by R J Lynch
‘That is so, James. And, you know, farmers maids have friends who are maids at other farms…’
‘And so the story was passed on yet again?’
‘It was. And this time, the maid who received the story works here, at Chopwell Garth.’
‘And so you have heard the story?’
‘I have. It seems that Wilkin Longstaff has two sons, and one of them has a daughter called Matilda. And Matilda was disturbed by the way a man was looking at her. Watching her.’
‘Did she recognise this man?’
‘She did not. He wore a hat pulled down on his head, his face was largely covered and he wore a wide flowing cloak.’
‘That is a pity. But I do not see…’
‘James. The man she saw carried a red rose.’
‘Ah. Now, that is interesting. Because a red rose was found beside the body of Ezra Hindmarsh, and I have assumed that the killer left it there.’
‘And such a rose was also left at Hope House Farm when Joseph’s wife Margaret was killed.’
‘You are right. Of course, there is no reason why someone should not be carrying a rose and we cannot assume for certain that whoever looked at Matilda Longstaff was the killer I have been seeking. Nevertheless…’
‘It is an interesting coincidence.’
‘It is indeed.’
‘Will you have Joseph released from Durham jail?’
‘It is not as simple as that, Kate. I have no such authority. The only person who can be relied on to release him is the only person who could also hang him – the Assize Court Judge. And I should still like to have his explanation as to why he attacked me. But I think I may speak to the rector, who is a Justice of the Peace, and ask his advice.’
‘And Matilda Longstaff? What will you do about her?’
‘I think I shall speak to Wilkin Longstaff and tell him to exercise great care.’
But, later, Blakiston decided that that was not enough. Lady Isabella’s remarks about paupers and overseers had combined with Kate’s news about Matilda Longstaff and an unknown watcher to suggest something else he could also do. And so, after calling in at the Longstaff’s farm and telling Wilkin Longstaff to take care of his granddaughter, Blakiston rode onwards to see Walter Maughan.
Chapter 19
He was met at the Maughan farm with the same civility as previously. He was shown into the parlour and served with coffee, fruit cake and cheese, just as before. Tasting the sharp cheese, he wondered whether the rector had ever been a guest in this house. If Maughan was correct, then the rector disapproved of Maughan’s possession of a pew and of the way his servants shared it. The rector might regard the farmer as being too far beneath him socially for this sort of intercourse. If so, that would be a shame, because the rector with his love of cheese and plain speaking would have enjoyed the hospitality of the house. But the enjoyment of hospitality was not the purpose of this visit.
‘Maughan,’ said Blakiston. ‘I have a question to ask you.’
The farmer’s eyebrows raised in a mute signal that Blakiston should proceed.
‘Your daughter died at the hands of some villain as yet unidentified. And so did the grandchild of Ezra Hindmarsh.’
‘That is true.’
‘The question I would like to ask is this. Did you ever sit as an overseer of the poor with Ezra Hindmarsh and Wilkin Longstaff to examine the case of a pauper?’
A look of shock passed across Maughan’s face. ‘Longstaff? Oh no! Surely he has not also been visited by this murderous person?’
‘He has not lost anyone. Or not yet. But there is reason to think that his granddaughter Matilda may have been watched by the person we seek.’
‘Longstaff is a good man. I doubt not that his granddaughter is a good girl. He must be warned.’
‘I have already taken care of that, Maughan. But my question?’
‘The answer to your question, Blakiston, is: yes. Hindmarsh, Longstaff and me, we have sat together. And more than once.’
‘That is what I was afraid you would say.’ And yet, he thought, it is also what I hoped you would say, because perhaps it may be the first step on the path that will lead us to a solution to this awful mystery. ‘So now I must ask you to rack your brains and search your memory and give me the name of every pauper whose case the three of you have supervised together.’
‘Mister Blakiston. I first sat with both of those gentlemen a goodly number of years ago. And we have done it since, too, because, you know, an overseer of the poor serves for a period and is then excused while someone else takes his place, but is then elected to serve again. We three may have sat together three or four times over a long period. And that would take in a great many paupers.’
‘I don’t ask for an immediate answer, Maughan, although I would like to receive a list as soon as possible. It may be that I will find on that list the name of the person I seek.’
‘I will do it, of course. But it will mean consulting the minutes books of the overseers of the poor in all three chapelries over a long period, first to find those times when we three sat together and then to find the names of the paupers we discussed. It may be a week or so before I can give you an answer.’
‘Then a week or so it will have to be. I suppose there is no name so glaring that it occurs to you immediately?’
He could see that Maughan was thinking hard, but then the farmer shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. There is nothing that springs immediately to mind.’
‘No matter. When you have an answer, send word and I shall come to examine your list. Will you be in church this Sunday?’
‘I am in church every Sunday, Mister Blakiston.’
‘Then you will witness my marriage to Kate Greener.’
‘And a great deal of pleasure it will give me, sir.’
‘Thank you for that, but the reason I ask is to say that the rector intends to invite all those who are present in the church at the time of my marriage to join us all in the rectory’s barn for a meal in celebration.’
‘And our servants? Are they to be invited, too?’
‘I did say all who are present.’
‘Then we will be delighted to accept the rector’s invitation. Sir, I look forward to celebrating in your company.’ He smiled. ‘I look forward also to seeing how Susannah Bent responds to the rector’s invitation,’
Next morning, Tom and Ned armed themselves with stout cudgels for defence against footpads and set off in the cart to visit Joseph Laws in Durham jail. They carried with them two sets of clean clothes and a basket of victuals put up by Lizzie.
When they reached the jail, Ned was so incensed by the hostile welcome from the jailer that Tom had to put a restraining hand on his arm. He gave the jailer three pennies, as Blakiston had recommended, and asked him to bring a bowl of water so that Joseph could wash before putting on a change of clothes.
‘Joseph,’ said Tom. ‘Mister Blakiston knows by now that you probably did not kill your wife.’
‘Probably? Probably! Do you doubt it?’
‘Joseph, I have been sure from the beginning that it was someone else who strangled Margaret to death. And now young Ezra Hindmarsh has been done away with in the same way, and that could not have been you because you were here. And since that happened, it seems very likely that the person who killed Margaret and the Hindmarsh boy was on the verge of killing Matilda Longstaff – and you were still in here.’
‘There you are, then. If the second and third were not me, who could believe that I was responsible for the first? And if that is so, then why have I not been released?’ He had by this time finished his ablutions and was gratefully casting aside the clothes he had been wearing and donning new. He pointed at the ones he had dropped to the floor. ‘Those will be fit now only for burning.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Tom. ‘But we will take them home and let Florrie and Lizzie make the final judgement. Joseph, you have not been released because no-one can understand why, if you had done nothing, you attacked Mi
ster Blakiston in the way you did. Give me something I can take back to him. An explanation.’
Joseph took from the basket a hunk of bread and a slice of ham. He stared at the floor. ‘I never wanted to marry Margaret. In fact, I disliked her. When we were alone in private, she had nothing good to say about anyone but herself. You, Ned here, Lizzie – and as for what she said about Kate… Well, you don’t want to hear it and that is as well because I’m not going to say it.’
‘We know all that, Joseph. You took Margaret as a wife so that you would not lose your farm. Everyone knows that, including Mister Blakiston. You are not the first person to have accepted marriage with someone they did not want in order to gain something they did. Look at Lizzie and me – she made it clear from the very beginning that she wanted nothing to do with me and it took a very long time before we came together as man and wife.’
‘That would never have happened with Margaret and me. And you wanted Lizzie, long before you knew she was carrying Wrekin’s bairn. So, in the end, you got what you wanted. And I did not, because the person I wanted was Kate.’
‘Kate!’
‘The moment you moved into Chopwell Garth and Lizzie brought her family with her – Ned here, Florrie and Kate – I looked at Kate and I knew from that first moment that she was someone I could be happy with. I had already begun to feel that, just from seeing them in church, but seeing her close like that – hearing her talk, understanding what a good person she was, listening to that clear, firm voice – I wanted her.’
‘Did you ever tell her that?’
‘I did. I was mebbes clumsy, because it was so important to me and I have not the way of speaking to women. And she was nice about it, and she did not make me feel bad, but she told me it could never be. And I knew she meant it. And so, when I knew I must have a wife or lose the farm and end up a collier, I looked around for someone else. And there was no-one but Margaret. She put herself forward, you know.’
‘Did she, the hussy?’
‘Well, she did. She came to see me and she said she knew I must be wanting a wife, and she was wanting a husband. She said she knew what people said about her and she said she had not always been the person she should have been, but she was older now and she knew what was needed of her. She said she would be a good wife to me, and faithful. And she was Walter Maughan’s daughter – a farmer’s daughter – so she knew the life. And so I accepted her.’ He had finished the ham and now took a slice of beef. ‘This is so good, compared with what we get to eat here. And we only get that if we can pay the jailer.’
‘Mister Blakiston has sent you some money. I have it here. Lord Ravenshead has told him he can spend what he needs to keep you fed and clothed.’
‘That is good of his Lordship.’
‘It is good also of Mister Blakiston,’ said Tom.
‘Yes, yes, it is good also of Mister Blakiston, but you cannot expect me to feel grateful to the man who will wed the woman I loved and who is the one who keeps me in here.’
‘He is also the man who might get you out. If I am able to take back proper answers to the questions I have asked you. And a proper answer would not be that you had wanted to marry the young woman that Mister Blakiston is engaged to.’
‘Well, I did. But I had given up on that. I have told you so. And I had married someone else. But when I saw him – Blakiston, the overseer – and I saw Kate, and I saw how they looked at each other, and I compared that exchange of feelings with the way I felt about Margaret – it was a stupid thing to do. I knew that when I did it.’
‘You were jealous? was that the sum of it?’
‘It was. For Margaret led me such a dance. She had said she would be a good wife to me, and faithful, and she was not. That first night we lay together – the night we were wed – she laughed at me.’
Tom looked at his brother. Not for the first time, he thanked God for the fate that had matched him to Lizzie and not to someone like Margaret. Tom’s face resembled the darkness of clouds before a storm and Tom wondered just how close to madness Joseph might have been brought. He said, ‘She was not faithful to you?’
Joseph shook his head. ‘After that first night… We never again…’
‘Mister Blakiston said that she bore the bruises of a number of beatings.’
‘The law gives a man the right to mate with his wife. And I tried to take by force what she refused to give me by right. Did you never do the same with Lizzie?’
Tom shook his head. He was more shocked than he wanted to admit to himself. ‘Never. There was a long time after we married when she refused me her bed.’
‘And you never forced the issue?’ Joseph looked as though he found this difficult to believe.
‘Never. In fact, it was not until Ned here, her brother, had been taken by the press men and I was shot and close to death getting him out of their clutches that she found that she loved me after all… That she had come to love me… And since then… She has been my wife and I have been her husband. This child Margaret carried…?’
‘It could not possibly have been mine. But I did not kill her for it, Tom. You must believe that.’
‘I do. And I will tell Mister Blakiston that. And we will see what he chooses to do about it. But here. Take this money. And give me back that basket. Ned, do you pick up those filthy clothes and we will see what Florrie and Lizzie can do with them. Joseph, we will be back soon. Do not allow your spirits to sink as low as they did when you attacked Mister Blakiston.’
Ned said, ‘The letter, Tom. You have forgot the letter.’
‘So I have. Joseph, you said that Margaret read to you a letter from some Lord telling you to meet him in a pub that was as imaginary as the lord was. Mister Blakiston asked you to show him the letter, but you could not.’
‘It did exist. I was not lying.’
‘We know it existed, because the post boy said he delivered it. And it had been paid for. But there was no sign of any letter in Hope House Farm when Jeffrey Drabble and Mister Blakiston searched for it. So where did it come from? Who sent it? Why did they do so? And where is it now?’
‘I do not know. When I realised I had been made a fool of and sent all that way for no reason, I thought Margaret had done it so that she would have a night with some man and me out of the house. I can tell you I was in such a fury by the time I got home. And then, of course, I found her lying dead and I did what I could not imagine doing which was to leave Samuel alone in the house with his dead mother while I rode to Chopwell Garth. That was a measure of the confusion I was in.’
‘What did you think when you found her lying there?’
‘That God’s justice had been done. That she had betrayed me with another, and the one she betrayed me with had killed her.’
‘We will tell all of this to Mister Blakiston. And we will be back soon as we can to bring whatever news there is.’
Chapter 20
He hadn’t been able to do it. He had wanted to do it; he was aware of his duty to do it – a duty owed to those who had themselves been condemned to death and on whose behalf he had condemned this girl – but, in the end, he had not been able to do it. It wasn’t fear of being caught; he would prefer not to hang, but if that turned out to be the price he had to pay for four deaths administered in justice, he would pay it. It wasn’t that he lacked the strength or the opportunity; his ability to overpower such a victim was unquestioned and the opportunity had been there, staring him in the face. But he hadn’t been able to do it.
He told himself that this was merely a delay, a short interruption to his plans, and that he would execute the girl within the next few days and deal with his fourth and final victim after that. And he did not believe it.
He was reduced almost to tears by the way old Ezra Hindmarsh grieved for his lost grandson. Was he to inflict the same grief on Wilkin Longstaff? Longstaff deserved it – that was not in question – and Hindmarsh had deserved it, too. But pain is pain and inflicting it hurt more than he would ever have believe
d. He had grieved for those he had lost and he had believed that inflicting that same pain on those responsible for his losses was not only justifiable but also right.
Perhaps, if he had stayed away, got someone else to carry out the work, and heard about it at a distance, all would have been well. But that was not how it had been. He had killed these people himself. And he had seen Hindmarsh afterwards.
The killing of Margaret Laws had been a false start. It had caused him no pain at all, the woman herself had been a detestable trollop, Walter Maughan had given no sign of being troubled and any grief caused to Joseph Laws was the result only of losing his farm and being cast into jail for attacking the overseer. When he had finished with Margaret Laws, he was reinforced in the view that he was doing the right thing. An eye for an eye. A life for a life. One life for one life and three more lives to be claimed for three that had been taken. The way of justice.
But the Hindmarsh boy had been different. Just like those four he could never forget, the Hindmarsh boy had had his whole life in front of him. And he had taken it away. He did not believe in God, but he certainly knew that God was not him – and yet, he had acted like a god.
And then he had gone to the place where he knew he would find Longstaff’s granddaughter. His heart had been full of thoughts of vengeance; that now Longstaff would know the pain of loss that Longstaff had once caused him to know himself. Justice would be done. You took mine; I take yours. And he had not been able to do it.
Was he really going to be able to return? Would he, next time, carry out the act of vengeance that he had not been able to commit this time? He told himself that he would. He knew, deep in his heart, that he was wrong.
What now? He had not the faintest idea. But he had done himself the most serious damage. There had to be a way to put things right.
Thomas Claverley was not a foolish man and neither was he an unworldly one. He knew that not all of his parishioners were firm believers in the God that Thomas as rector of Ryton parish preached every Sunday in the Church of the Holy Cross. That was all right; this was not the time of Oliver Cromwell and the puritans; it was enough that people came to the House of God without demanding control over what they believed. Some came from a fervent dedication to the Lord. Kate Greener was one of those, and Kate would soon be married to James Blakiston, who most certainly was not. If this caused any difficulty between husband and wife, it was a matter for them alone. Thomas would not intervene. James Blakiston came to church because his employer, Lord Ravenshead, expected him to. Others came for the social occasion – to see neighbours who they might not meet again for a whole week, to exchange news and simply to gossip. Some – and here the rector thought with a sad smile of the disappointed Susannah Bent – came in the hope of attracting the attention of a suitor.
