Down Weaver's Lane

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Run and fetch Constable Makepeace,’ she ordered, and gave Cass’s arm a quick shake when the girl did not move. ‘Hurry! Mrs Jonas, please go back to the washing, and Cook—’ Her voice failed her for a minute and she looked helplessly at the other woman.

  ‘I’ll go back to my baking,’ Cook said gruffly. ‘Nothing I can do here.’ But even as she was turning away, she had an idea. ‘What about Jack Staley?’

  ‘Oh, my, yes. We should let him know.’ Prudence tried to think clearly.

  ‘I’ll send sexton’s lad,’ said Cook. ‘He’s allus hanging round.’

  Prudence nodded and went to find her husband.

  By the time the constable arrived, Gerald had joined the horrified group standing at the edge of the back lawn. A grave-faced Eli examined the footprints, following them across the almost bare winter earth of the vegetable garden. The trail led to the back wall of the churchyard. Beyond it was a little-used lane which led up to a track across the moors. But the ground there was too stony to reveal much, unlike the soft soil of the vegetable garden.

  ‘They’re bound to have taken her away in a vehicle, but where did they get it from?’ he muttered to himself, then went back to the Parson. ‘I have to get down to the Horse and Rider at once, sir. Can’t stop to talk.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Gerald offered.

  ‘No, best you stay here, sir. When Jack arrives, tell him what’s happened and make him wait here for me. Don’t let him do anything till I’ve seen him.’

  He strode down the lane to the alehouse. The place was empty but a woman was wiping the counter in a listless way. ‘I’m looking for Gus Norris,’ Eli told her.

  She stared round vaguely. ‘He were here earlier, but he’s gone out.’

  ‘Was he on his own?’ As she simply stared at him, he rapped out sharply, ‘Answer me! Was Gus on his own?’

  ‘No, he wasn’t.’

  Before she could speak another woman came through the door. Dorrie Milford had bought a half-share in the alehouse from George and had set up here with Gus. She had a hard, bitter face and a sharp manner and Eli did not trust her an inch.

  ‘What’s the matter, Constable?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m looking for Gus. He was in here earlier, apparently.’

  ‘Well, he isn’t here now, as you can see for yourself, so I’m afraid we can’t help you.’ Dorrie gestured to the barmaid to leave and began to turn away herself.

  Eli said mildly, ‘Running this place will be much more difficult for you if I don’t feel you’ve co-operated with me.’

  ‘And it’ll be no life at all if someone hits me over the head one dark night,’ Dorrie retorted.

  ‘Who would do that?’

  She hesitated, then sighed and lowered her voice. ‘Someone rich enough to do as he pleases. Someone as is very friendly with the previous owner. And if Gus is involved it’s because they forced him. All he wants is a quiet life - same as me.’ She folded her arms across her breasts and said flatly and emphatically, ‘I’m not saying another word apart from that because I daren’t.’

  Eli nodded, certain she was referring to Marcus Armistead which was no surprise. But it was a surprise to see how afraid she was of the man. This mystery was growing nastier by the minute. Not just the kidnapping of a pretty young woman, but a whole group of people afraid of Armistead. What had he done to inspire such fear?

  When the sexton’s son burst into the mill office, he rushed straight across to Jack. ‘You’ve to come at once to the Parsonage. They’ve took Emmy!’ Caught up in the excitement he didn’t even notice Mr Rishmore and Isaac inside the other office, staring at him in shock.

  Jack tossed his quill pen aside and thrust his stool away so violently it crashed to the ground. Isaac stepped out of his office. ‘I’ll come with you, Jack.’

  ‘So will I,’ Samuel echoed.

  But Jack had already left at a run, pounding through the town without cap or coat, his feet thudding on the cobbles. He burst into the Parsonage by the front door, heading straight for the Parson’s study. ‘Where’s Emmy?’ he gasped.

  When he heard what had happened, Jack spun round. ‘I’m going after her.’

  Gerald grabbed his shoulder. ‘Not yet! Eli Makepeace said you were to wait here for him.’

  Jack stared at him, anguish in his eyes. ‘How can I just stand here when they’ve got Emmy? Who knows what they’re doing to her?’

  ‘Sometimes it doesn’t pay to rush into things. Eli is a wise fellow. Wait for him, Jack.’

  When the cart began to slow down Emmy moaned in her throat.

  Her captor didn’t say a word, just wrapped a cloth round her head so that she couldn’t see where she was, then picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She hung there helplessly, head down, as he strode across ground that seemed soft underfoot. She strained her senses, desperately trying to work out where she was. The country, definitely. There were no noises around them. Surely there’d be noises if this were the Grange? If it was another isolated cottage, she doubted she’d get away from Armistead a second time, and since she had made a fool of him before, she knew he’d be wanting his revenge. He’d hurt her, and enjoy doing it.

  Terror roiled along her veins.

  She could feel the soft ground give way to some sort of paving and a few seconds later there was the sound of a door opening. The man took little care with her and bumped her head on the lintel as he entered. With a gag in her mouth, she couldn’t even cry out.

  When someone took off the blindfold she saw that she was in a room with a barred window that looked out only on to a wall. An old woman was waiting for her, face impassive. There were two men with her, Gus and a stranger. The latter said harshly, ‘Call out if she gives you any trouble.’

  ‘She won’t.’

  When the men had gone the woman stared at Emmy as if she was a bit of meat on a butcher’s slab. ‘If you promise to behave, I’ll help you relieve yoursen an’ give you a bite of food. If you cause me any trouble, you’ll go hungry and thirsty and can piss yoursen for all I care.’

  Emmy swallowed hard. ‘I’ll behave.’

  The woman loosened the bonds round her legs, then helped her use the bucket in the corner. ‘Didn’t think I were goin’ to untie your hands an’ give you a chance to escape, did you?’ she jeered. ‘He pays me well to keep an eye on his lasses.’

  ‘Marcus Armistead, you mean?’

  The woman slapped her across the face. ‘If you say that name again, I’ll gag you an’ you’ll get nowt to eat.’

  Emmy said nothing more. She forced herself to eat and drink, telling herself she had to keep her strength up, though the bread was tasteless in her mouth and hard to chew, and the lukewarm black tea was a foul brew.

  ‘What’s going to happen now?’ she asked.

  The old woman shrugged and sat down, closing her eyes. Emmy was left to sit awkwardly on the chair with her hands still tied behind her. After an hour, it was so painful she said, ‘Please could you tie my hands differently? My arms are going numb.’

  The old woman stared at her, then went to the door. ‘Need to do summat about her hands.’

  The man she didn’t recognise came in, yawning as if he had been taking a nap. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Her hands are going numb. You can tie ’em in front of her while I’m with her. She won’t get away from me.’

  Emmy could not help crying out when her hands were loosened and the numbness turned to a tingling that became very painful.

  ‘Let her stay loose for a few minutes till her arms are all right.’

  After a while they tied Emmy up again and dumped her on the chair. Time passed very slowly. It was dark now, with the moon appearing and disappearing from behind some clouds, its light adding to the single candle burning on the mantelpiece and the dull glow of a smouldering fire in the small grate.

  Emmy did not see how anyone could possibly find her. Even if they went looking for Marcus Armistead they’d
discover no sign of her with him. As the minutes dragged into hours, fear sat like a heavy stone in her belly, making her jerk at every sound.

  One or other of the men peered into the room at regular intervals to check on her, but neither said anything. The old woman brewed some more tea and offered Emmy a drink when it had cooled down. ‘I could put a few herbs in it. Calm you down a bit, stop you fighting him. Won’t do you any good to fight and it’ll only make him wild. He can be dangerous when he’s angry.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Suit yoursen. But them as took my advice got out alive an’ whole afterwards,’ she said as off-handedly as if she were chatting to a neighbour at the market.

  After which Emmy felt even more terrified. What others? And surely Marcus Armistead wouldn’t kill her?

  Isaac turned up at the Parsonage shortly after Jack, accompanied by Samuel Rishmore. Prudence let them in and showed them into the parlour. ‘We’re waiting for Eli Makepeace to return,’ she said, then went back to the kitchen.

  Jack looked at his employer and the head clerk, too miserable to care what he said or did in front of them. ‘If he’s hurt Emmy, I’ll kill him.’

  ‘If he’s hurt your young woman, the law will deal with him,’ Samuel corrected.

  ‘Armistead’s rich enough to get away with it if we don’t stop him ourselves,’ Jack said bitterly. ‘The law won’t be any use to us.’

  ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t escape retribution, believe me,’ Samuel promised. ‘He hurt my daughter, too, you know.’

  Both Isaac and Gerald stared at him in shock, but Jack hardly heard and went back to pacing up and down between the window and the door. The others did not try to stop him but exchanged anxious glances from time to time.

  Jack saw the constable coming along the street and rushed out into the hall to fling the door open. ‘What’s happened?’

  Mrs Bradley joined them without a word, looking as if she’d been crying.

  Eli went to stand in front of the fire and warm his backside. ‘Gus Norris was seen earlier today with a stranger, but he’s left town. It’s very possible he was the one who took Emmy. Dorrie Milford seems to know something but will only hint that a rich man is involved, for fear of retribution.’

  ‘Armistead,’ Jack growled. ‘We should be out trying to find him, not wasting time like this.’

  ‘Let the constable speak, lad,’ Gerald put in quietly.

  ‘I think it is Armistead,’ the constable agreed, ‘but I’d guess this has been very carefully planned and it’ll be hard to prove that he’s involved. I’ve asked around and no one seems to have seen a vehicle waiting in the lane.’

  Prudence leaned forward on a sudden thought. ‘Have you spoken to the grave digger? He was working in the churchyard earlier.’

  ‘Can you send someone to fetch him?’ Eli asked.

  Samuel said quietly, ‘My carriage is completely at your disposal, Makepeace, and as much money as you need to hire other help. Can you send for my coachman as well, Mrs Bradley?’

  She bustled out, glad to have something to do.

  Eli nodded, thinking it through carefully. ‘We need to check several things. I wonder, Jack, if you and Mr Butterfield would go into Manchester and see if you can find any sign of Armistead and Emmy there? Do you know where his office is situated?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jack, bouncing to his feet.

  Samuel held up one hand to stop him. ‘I can give you his home address as well.’

  Eli looked sternly at the distraught young man. ‘I want you to do nothing except try to find him and stay near him. You can leave a message for me with the night watchman at his office.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘I’ve been making inquiries for a while now and have spoken to the watchman a few times. He isn’t fond of Mr Armistead and has been as co-operative as he dares. Like Dorrie he’s afraid. If I don’t receive your solemn word that you won’t confront Armistead, Jack, you’re going nowhere. I’ll lock you up to stop you if I have to.’

  With the prospect of action in front of him, Jack felt the tension inside himself ease a little. ‘I’ll do nothing unless Emmy’s in danger.’

  ‘I’ll be with him, Eli,’ Isaac said in his usual calm, dry tone, ‘and I shan’t allow him to do anything rash, I promise you.’ He pulled out his watch. ‘If we hurry we can just catch the afternoon stage coach into Manchester.’

  When they had gone, Eli admitted to the two gentlemen, ‘It’s my opinion we shall find the young woman out at Moor Grange or one of the nearby farms, but I wanted Staley out of the way. He’s as strong as his father and I don’t want him going berserk with Armistead.’

  Cass knocked on the door and showed in the grave digger who seemed ill at ease in such company. However, he had not only seen a cart in the lane but had recognised the men on it.

  ‘Ah!’ said Eli softly, glad Jack had left. ‘Who were they?’

  ‘Gus Norris an’ Bill Sully,’ the grave digger said. ‘He’s got a smallholding out on the moors, Bill has, Nasty sod he is. Lives with his mother an’ she’s as bad. I thought better of Gus than mixing with folk like that.’

  With some careful questioning, Eli found out where the smallholding was situated and sent the grave digger out to give directions to Rishmore’s coachman when he arrived.

  ‘Shall we go then, gentlemen?’ Gerald asked.

  ‘There’s no need for you to come, Parson,’ Eli objected.

  ‘You may need every bit of help you can get,’ he said quietly.

  But first they had to wait for the carriage, pacing up and down while Eli stood very calm and collected, knowing some things could not be hurried. ‘Ah, there it is!’

  The men got quickly into the carriage while the grave digger gave directions to the coachman. At the last minute Hercules scrambled into the coach with them.

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t come with us, my lad,’ Gerald told him.

  Eli frowned. ‘Wait! That’s Emmy’s dog, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then he might be able to find her where we couldn’t,’ Eli said. ‘Let him come with us. We just need something to tie him up with, if necessary.’

  So after a short delay to find a piece of rope they set off, Eli in his usual thoughtful silence, Gerald stroking the dog absent-mindedly and Samuel lost in his own dark thoughts, wondering where his daughter was and how she was managing. The longer she was away, the more he worried about her.

  21

  The night seemed to go on for ever to Emmy and when she heard a rider outside she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that something was going to happen.

  The old woman went to look out of the window. ‘Ah. Wondered what was keeping him.’

  Emmy could hardly breathe for terror. Surely this wasn’t him?

  Another stranger came in, breathless. ‘That bugger Makepeace has been asking around at the alehouse in Northby an’ he’s out searching, so we’d better move her on quick.’

  The terror eased just a little as Emmy realised she wouldn’t have to face Marcus Armistead yet. And if people were looking for her, there must be a slight chance of rescue. She had to hold tight to that hope, had to. If only she could leave them a sign. They were whispering to one another, their backs turned to her, so she eased her handkerchief out of her waistband with her fingertips and flicked it to one side. She didn’t even have time to see where it fell.

  Gus stepped forward. ‘Come on, you.’

  ‘Just a minute!’ The old woman stopped to pick something up and wave it at Emmy. ‘You dropped this! Nice little handkerchief that is. Finder’s keepers.’ She stuffed it in her own waistband.

  ‘Don’t try anything like that again or you’ll regret it,’ Gus snapped.

  Emmy swallowed hard and said nothing, but tears welled in her eyes and she thought for a moment she saw a look of shame in his. But if she did it was soon gone and she let out an involuntary grunt as he heaved her over his shoulder and started moving.

  They shoved her into a carri
age and this time Gus got in with her. The other two climbed up on the box and they set off. The bumping and jolting were so bad that Emmy was tossed about, but Gus did nothing to keep her steady, just continued to stare at her sourly.

  Once they stopped and one of the men got down, calling farewell to the others. As the carriage set off again, Gus said abruptly, ‘When we get there you’d be well advised to do as the gentleman asks. It’ll go easier for you that way.’

  He slumped down, hating to see the terror on her face, wishing he were anywhere but here. He was getting more than a bit worried about the fate of the other girls he had delivered to Marcus Armistead. One had not been seen again while others had left the district immediately afterwards, refusing to say what had happened to them but vowing never to return.

  ‘I’ll never do as he asks,’ Emmy said fiercely. ‘And I don’t know how you can live with your conscience, doing something like this. I’ll tell them who captured me.’

  ‘By the time he’s done with you, you’ll be glad to keep your mouth shut, just like the others were.’ But Gus sighed. He didn’t like this, not at all. It was not his conscience that was worrying him so much as his sense of self-preservation. He didn’t want to be involved in murder - or anything else that weird bugger did!

  Jack and Isaac sat in silence as the stage coach rumbled along the Manchester road. The other passengers made no attempt to converse. In the flickering light of the single lamp suspended from the ceiling their faces looked weary and drawn.

  It seemed to take longer than usual to reach Manchester, and when the coach arrived they had trouble finding a cab. Isaac waited with arms folded while Jack paced up and down near the cab stand, scanning the street. When at last they heard the sound of hooves and a cab came clopping round the corner, Jack heaved a sigh of relief.

  Isaac stepped forward to say to the driver, ‘I’m prepared to pay handsomely if you’ll stay with us for the next few hours and, if necessary, lend us a hand. A young woman has been kidnapped and we’re searching for her.’