The Heiress of Linn Hagh (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 1)

by Karen Charlton

  ‘Didn’t he just,’ Woods said. ‘This case has turned into a sack full of squirmin’ river eels. Slippery buggers, all of them Carnabys—especially the father.’

  ‘Indeed. I hope that this document at the lawyers’ will shed some light on what really went on at Linn Hagh.’

  ‘I’ll grab a bite to eat from The Rose and Crown before I go,’ Woods told him. ‘Oh—and I might just call on young Anna at her mother’s cottage on me way—just to check she got home safely the other night when she fled Linn Hagh.’

  Lavender smiled.

  ‘If you must,’ he said.

  Robert Goddard was reading in the parlour when the maid showed Lavender into the room. Goddard looked up from his news-sheet and frowned.

  ‘If you have come to search my outhouses for a murderer, Detective, then I am afraid that Captain Wentworth has beaten you to it; his men only left half an hour ago.’

  Lavender smiled but noticed that Goddard didn’t ask him to sit down. Despite the helpful information he had given Lavender at their last meeting, the doctor was clearly irritated with him again.

  ‘I’m here to ask you for some information. It won’t take long. Firstly, I need to know what happened when you were summoned by George Carnaby on Thursday night to examine the remains of the dead girl at Linn Hagh.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ Goddard said. He put down his paper and pointed to a chair. Lavender sat down opposite him.

  ‘There’s not much to report. Carnaby wanted me to identify the poor girl as his sister. Have you seen the body?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, you’ll understand that it was impossible. The corpse is burnt beyond recognition.’

  ‘Did you examine the corpse and come to a conclusion about how she might have died?’

  A frown creased the doctor’s handsome forehead.

  ‘The light was poor, and I wasn’t there very long, you understand? An argument quickly flared up between Carnaby and myself, and the brute told me to get off his property when I started to express my doubts. But I think she may have had her neck broken before she died. There was definitely something wrong with her neck, but I was compelled to leave before I could complete my examination.’

  Lavender sat back in the cushions of the chair, relieved.

  ‘I agree. It looks to me like she may have even been stabbed repeatedly in the neck.’

  The two men paused for a while in thought.

  ‘The poor girl,’ Goddard said. ‘What else did you want to know, Detective?’

  ‘My other question relates to Matthew Carnaby.’

  ‘No, I don’t think he is capable of murder,’ the doctor said quickly. He frowned again and stared into the fire.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that because that is also my impression of the man, but I’m not here to ask that question.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I need to know how Matthew Carnaby came by those horrific head injuries. Are you familiar with that information?’

  Goddard looked up, surprised.

  ‘Yes, I do know what happened to him. My predecessor, Doctor Oliver, told me the story when I took over the practice, on the understanding that I keep the information confidential. Baxter and Esther Carnaby—she was still alive at the time—wanted the details kept quiet.’

  ‘Well, they’re both dead now.’

  ‘It’s a gruesome tale. Is this relevant to solving this case?’

  ‘Extremely relevant.’

  Goddard eyed him curiously, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘As I recall,’ he said, ‘Matthew Carnaby received his injuries when he was about three years old. He was viciously attacked and beaten around the head with a hot fire poker.’

  ‘Strewth,’ Lavender exclaimed. Although he had expected something like this, he was shocked. ‘Who would do that to a child? Was it his mad mother, Martha Carnaby?’

  ‘No, but I understand that she had never been a natural mother to him. Matthew had been a difficult baby, a whining child, and this infuriated her. Apparently, she stood by—and laughed—while the attack took place. Her husband was outside. He heard the child’s screams and the woman’s manic laughter through the open window. He raced inside to find his youngest son a bloody mess on the floor of the Great Hall, his wife laughing hysterically over the unconscious child and the other children terrified.’

  ‘What?’ Lavender was appalled.

  ‘Martha Carnaby and the culprit were restrained,’ Goddard continued. ‘The next day Carnaby had her committed to an asylum. Doctor Oliver was called out immediately to see what he could do for the little boy. Matthew’s injuries were horrific, and they didn’t expect him to live, but he did, although he suffered damage to his brain as a result of the attack.’

  ‘So who did it, if it was not Martha Carnaby? Who was the culprit?’

  Goddard watched him closely. ‘It was the eldest son—a ten-year-old boy. I can’t remember his name. He was egged on by his insane mother, I understand. Prone to violent rages, Martha Carnaby had become virtually impossible to control. She was a danger to herself and all those around her. The children were all wild and out of control—the eldest son worst of all. God only knows what else those children witnessed. Baxter Carnaby should have had her committed a long time before, but he didn’t. He had no choice but to act after that. However, rather than blame his eldest son, he decided to cover up the boy’s part in all this and exile him instead. He blamed himself for not having acted sooner to deal with his wife. He pleaded with Doctor Oliver to keep the details of the attack a secret. Then he sent the eldest boy away to boarding school. I understand that the lad later died there. Doctor Oliver felt sorry for Carnaby and did as he requested. Like I said, I can’t remember the boy’s name.’

  ‘He was called Baxter Carnaby after his father,’ Lavender said.

  Goddard’s eyes widened with surprise.

  ‘And I’ve more news for you, Doctor. The wretched boy didn’t die. He survived, joined the army and is back now in Bellingham, trying to murder another one of his siblings.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Lavender was surprised to see that Woods was waiting for him in front of the hearth when he called back in The Rose and Crown.

  ‘I thought you would be on your way to Newcastle and the chambers of Mr Agar, the lawyer,’ he said.

  Woods shook his head, stood up and leant forward conspiratorially.

  ‘I had to wait for you,’ he whispered. His eyes shone with excitement in his broad face. ‘There’s been a development.’

  ‘What?’ Lavender took off his gloves, ordered a plate of cold meats and a glass of ale and sat down at their table.

  Woods clutched a brown paper parcel in his big hands. It was loosely tied with string.

  ‘I called on Anna’s mother, like I said I would, but the girl weren’t there.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Her mother said she’s “gone away for a while” .’

  ‘Gone away?’ Lavender’s frown deepened. ‘Servant girls who have just walked out of their jobs without their wages don’t “go away for a while”. They spend every minute trying to find a new position.’

  ‘Exactly what I thought, sir, but the mother weren’t prepared to say any more. She clammed up. I’m thinkin’ that Anna’s gone off to join the missing heiress.’

  ‘Ah,’ Lavender nodded. ‘That would make sense, considering that we’re convinced that Helen Carnaby is still alive. Do you think Anna knew where her mistress was from the start?’

  ‘I don’t rightly know about that, sir, but there’s more to tell.’ Woods pushed the parcel across the table towards him. Infected by his constable’s enthusiasm, Lavender found himself smiling.

  ‘Tell me what it is,’ he said.

  Woods opened the parcel and lifted out a couple of pieces of paper, one of them badly scorched, and a piece of burnt smo
ke-damaged material.

  ‘She left me a note sayin’ as how George and Isobel Carnaby used this scrap of cloth from a dress to identify the dead girl.’

  Lavender picked up the dirty rag and recognised the pattern immediately. Earlier that morning he had noted that a piece had been chopped out of the hem of the victim’s dress.

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, Anna says in her note that it weren’t Helen Carnaby’s dress—not anymore.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘Do you remember she told us that Miss Carnaby had given one of her frocks to the gypsy girl, Laurel Faa Geddes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, Anna says that this is the same dress. The dead girl is the gypsy. You were right. She were wearin’ Miss Carnaby’s cast-off dress when she were murdered.’

  Lavender sat back and breathed deeply.

  ‘The murderer might have known this. He might have seen Miss Carnaby give the dress to the gypsy girl. You’ve done well, Ned. The time you spent building up trust with that maid was invaluable.’

  Woods beamed with pleasure.

  ‘But that’s not all, sir.’ He now handed Lavender the charred piece of parchment that had also been in the parcel.

  ‘She found this when she were cleanin’ the hearth in the Great Hall at Linn Hagh. She thinks George Carnaby had been burnin’ some old documents and was careless. This one must have fallen from the flames, and she rescued it the next day.’

  Lavender’s eyes scanned the parchment and lit up.

  George. Meet at Redesdale Arms. Thurs. next. 18th November. Baxter.

  ‘I don’t think the lass realised what she had found,’ Woods said. ‘She says something in her note about it being a letter from George Carnaby’s father.’

  ‘We have him,’ Lavender said simply. ‘The eighteenth of November fell on a Thursday this year. We have him, Woods. We can link George Carnaby to his murderous sibling.’

  Lavender felt the excitement rise inside him, and he could barely contain his satisfaction. It was moments like this that made it all worthwhile; the moments when he knew, for certain, that he could drag a criminal into the dock at the next assizes.

  ‘Oh, and this also arrived for you about an hour ago.’

  Woods lifted a bigger package from the chair beside him and placed it on the table. It was a pile of legal documents.

  Baxter Carnaby’s will had finally arrived from Mr Agar.

  ‘I think it’s from that lawyer in Newcastle. I had a hell of a job to persuade the young lad who brought it here to hand it over. He claimed he’d been told only to give it to the detective with the silver-topped tipstaff from Bow Street.’

  ‘We’ll have to get you a tipstaff of your own.’ Lavender smiled as he pulled out his pocketknife and slit open the wax seal.

  Woods beamed at the thought; the ornate tipstaffs with their intricate engraving and moulding were objects of envy in Bow Street. Then Woods shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘They’d never give me one—and the other lads would get jealous. Just let me hold yours now and then so as I can wave it around for a bit.’

  Smiling, Lavender carefully unfurled the documents.

  The start of the will contained the usual small bequests of money and personal items to relatives and loyal servants. The bulk of his estate, monies and land were left to George Carnaby.

  The next paragraph made Lavender smile:

  Unto my natural daughter Laurel Faa Geddes, I grant the right for her to remain with her people on my land at Linn Hagh for the rest of her life.

  ‘I correctly concluded that the gypsy girl was Baxter Carnaby’s illegitimate daughter,’ he told Woods. ‘He gave her and the faws the right to remain at Linn Hagh in his will.’

  ‘D’ya think that is why they’ve gone?’ Woods asked. ‘Because she’s dead? They must know that the murdered girl is one of their own.’

  Lavender stopped reading and frowned. He was suddenly conscious that he had overlooked the reaction of the faws. His mistake with Matthew Carnaby had made him more cautious; he could not afford to overlook anything.

  He had assumed, like the manservant Peter at Linn Hagh, that the faws had vanished because they were frightened of getting the blame for the murder. If the body was that of Laurel Faa Geddes, then Woods was right; they would already know this. Their silence was as worrying as their sudden disappearance. He didn’t really expect them to seek redress or justice through the legal system; they didn’t trust the authorities. But it still bothered him. He had made a mistake overlooking Matthew Carnaby, and he wasn’t prepared to dismiss anyone else so easily.

  ‘What does the rest say?’ Woods brought his attention back to the document in his hand. He continued to read the will.

  After all are valued and everyone knows their just part, I will that Linn Hagh be carried on in the same manner by my wife, Esther, and son George and for all my family to continue at Linn Hagh as they are for so long as they please, and my son Baxter Carnaby I disallow to have any right at all to the estate or monies . . .

  Lavender had to read the last line twice before its significance dawned on him. He hadn’t expected it.

  ‘He was alive,’ he said. ‘We’ve proof. Baxter Carnaby the son is mentioned in his father’s will. This will was written only five years ago. The old man knew that his eldest boy was still alive, and he legally disinherited him.’

  ‘That’s good evidence,’ Woods said. ‘Is there more?’

  There was more. This time Lavender read it aloud.

  ‘And for the good behaviour of George and Isobel, I appoint my lawyer, Benjamin Agar, to ensure that they behave themselves as they ought towards my wife, my daughters Helen and Laurel, and my son Matthew, and that they carry on their business in a right and orderly manner, and in case of any misdemeanour, I desire the aforesaid Benjamin Agar to rebuke and admonish and pray them to do well. If either George or Isobel do not behave well towards my wife, my daughters or my son Matthew, then I appoint, constitute, authorize and allow the aforesaid Benjamin Agar to turn either George or Isobel off the estate.’

  ‘Strewth,’ Woods said. ‘This old guvnor really knew his nippers. He must have been fearful about what would happen in that pele tower after his death.’

  ‘He was right to be frightened,’ Lavender commented dryly. ‘George Carnaby flayed the younger ones with his whip, Isobel tried to poison her stepmother; and now the two of them have ganged up with the family outcast to commit murder.’

  ‘Why didn’t he appoint someone closer to keep an eye on his wife and young nippers, though? A Newcastle lawyer is a long way from Linn Hagh.’

  Lavender sighed. ‘Baxter Carnaby spent most of his adult life hiding the truth about his family from his neighbours in Bellingham,’ he said. ‘He had a lot to hide, including the extent of his first wife’s insanity, his eldest son’s brutality and his youngest son’s disability. In order to avoid difficult questions and scandal, he even spread the lie that his eldest son was dead. When it came time to write his will, there was no one left in Bellingham in whom he felt he could confide. No one else knew the truth. He had to tell his lawyer the truth to write his son Baxter out of the will, but he must have died a very desperate and worried man.’

  ‘Why did he cast off the eldest lad?’

  Lavender told Woods what he had learned from Doctor Goddard.

  Horror and outrage replaced the smile on Woods’ face.

  ‘Who would do that to a little nipper?’ he demanded angrily. ‘What sort of evil bastard are we dealin’ with here?’

  The sudden appearance of Mistress McMullen with a message from Katherine Armstrong saved him from replying. Lavender read the note and gulped down the last of his ale.

  ‘We’ll have to move fast. George Carnaby has returned from Newcastle with his pet doctor. Horrocks has identified the body as that of Helen Carnaby
. . .’

  ‘But it’s not Helen Carnaby—it’s the gypsy girl!’

  ‘They plan to bury the corpse in Esther Carnaby’s grave in St Cuthbert’s churchyard on Monday at ten.’

  ‘What can we do?’

  Lavender reached for his gloves. ‘We’ll ride out to The Redesdale Arms and try to get more information about our murderer. Then we’ll travel back to Morpeth and get a warrant from Magistrate Clennell for the arrest of George and Isobel Carnaby.’

  ‘Do we have enough evidence now?’ asked Woods as the two men pushed back their chairs and rose to their feet. Lavender began to gather up the documents scattered across the table.

  ‘I’m sure of it. If we can’t arrest them for being accomplices to murder, then at least we can arrest them for trying to pervert the course of justice. That should be enough to hold them until we track down their big brother. They may know that Helen Carnaby gave that dress to Laurel Faa Geddes—or they may not. Either way, by the time I’ve presented the case to Magistrate Clennell, they’ll sound like the guiltiest pair in England. And once I’ve warrants for their arrest . . . it’s time for Miss Carnaby to come out of hiding . . .’

  The door of the tavern burst open, and Isaac Daly staggered into the taproom. The lanky farmer had been running. He was sweating, red-faced and breathless. He pointed at Lavender and Woods and gestured frantically for them to follow him.

  ‘It’s that gadgie you’re after,’ he gasped.

  ‘What? The murderer?’

  ‘Aye,’ Daly nodded and breathed heavily. ‘Jethro and I’ve bin searchin’ fer him. We’ve jest seen him—he’s headed back into Hareshaw Woods . . .’

  ‘Mistress McMullen! Where are Captain Wentworth and his men?’