“Is it possible,” Mira said slowly, “that both girls were on their way to or from Blackwell?”
“Only if they were lost,” Nicholas said with a smirk. “Both girls lived in Upper Bidwell, and if they were traveling to or from Blackwell they would have taken the same road you did coming here, traveling due north from the village to the estate. They were both well off that road. I suppose if they were trying to travel without notice, but even so they would have been going far, far out of their way.”
“So what is there, where they were? What is between Upper Bidwell and the sea?” Her tone was contemplative, giving the words a sing-songy quality like a child’s riddle.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” he answered. “Look, perhaps it makes sense to consider Tegen Quick’s route first, as she was actually found near an established pathway. That pathway starts in Upper Bidwell and curves across the moor and around this little bit of forest, heading north and west to reach the coast about midway between Blackwell and Upper Bidwell, at a small inlet where a few of the fishing boats put in. But there the path begins following the line of the coast to the southwest, away from Blackwell, all the way down to here,” he rested his finger on a slight indentation on the map, “where there is a somewhat larger inlet where more of the local fishing boats moor themselves. As the daughter of a fisherman, Tegen would know that pathway and those inlets. Perhaps she was going there.”
“But why? Why would she be going to a place where boats moor in the middle of the night?” Mira shook her head. “What else is along this pathway?”
“Again, not much.” Nicholas sighed. “The only sheltered spot along that pathway is the cottage at Dowerdu.”
Mira’s head shot up. “Dowerdu?”
“Yes, it is a Cornish word meaning—”
“I know,” Mira cut off his explanation with an impatient wave of her hand. “Wasn’t Bridget found near Dowerdu?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so. Not very near.”
“Where exactly is the cottage, Nicholas? Show me on the map.”
Nicholas tensed, but did as she asked, pointing to a spot right on the coast, due west of the village.
Mira gasped. “Nicholas, if you traced a path as the crow flies between Upper Bidwell and where Bridget was found, and you continue along it, you would reach the coast very near Dowerdu.”
She began to pace in agitation. “So let us assume that both young women, for whatever reason, were traveling to Dowerdu. Why would they take such different paths?”
“Because Bridget Collins wasn’t a fisherman’s daughter. She wouldn’t have been as familiar with the path Tegen took.”
Suddenly Mira plopped down onto an upholstered footstool, her skirts billowing out about her legs as she did so. She raised her hands to her face and nodded her head slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed. Nicholas marveled at the picture she presented, so enrapt in her thoughts, her energy focused so profoundly. She might have forgotten he was even present, she appeared so intent on figuring out this puzzle.
“All right,” she finally said, having apparently convinced herself that Nicholas’s logic was sound. “So they were both traveling to or from Dowerdu when they were killed. But why?”
She huffed a small sigh and answered her own question. “To meet a man.”
“Why a man?” Nicholas countered, more to play devil’s advocate than to really challenge her conclusion. He could not imagine much in the world that would drag two hardworking girls from their beds in the middle of the night other than a tryst. Still, if she was intent on being logical, all possibilities had to be considered. “What if they were going to meet a woman, or a group of people? Or just out for a stroll?”
Mira shook her head, sending her blazing curls bouncing. “No, they were going to meet a man. Quite possibly the same man.” She looked up at him then, her expression a bit sheepish. “You see, I have already made a few, very discreet, inquiries about the murders. And I know that both Tegen Quick and Bridget Collins were romantically involved with a wealthy man.”