“It was just to make her sleep. That’s all.”
“That’s better. So what did you do?”
“I just put in the stuff he – I was given.”
“He gave to you? And who was that?”
“I shan’t say until you tell me I shall be safe.”
Giles got up and walked about the room before leaning on the table, and raising his voice a little, said, “This is your sister we are talking about, Miss Roper, whose cadaver is now lying downstairs being cut up by the surgeon to determine exactly how she died.” She flinched a little at that. “There is no safety for you in this. I could charge you with her murder and you could hang for it, soon enough. Do not think you can do deals with me or save yourself. Only God can save you, and I think He will be hard-pressed, particularly if you continue to obstruct justice in this fashion! Think about that for a moment, will you?”
“But it wasn’t my idea,” she said. “I told you.”
“But you did it all the same. You thought it a pretty good idea.”
“She wasn’t suppose to die of it! It was just until – until it was all sorted and we got our own place.”
“I see.”
Hammond, who was sitting in the corner, said, “Who’s your fella then, Miss Amy? He must be a lucky one to get a lass like you. I bet you have them flocking after you.”
She stared at him, unsettled by this intervention. Giles decidedly liked it and added, “Yes, I’m sure you are right, Sergeant. You would have no shortage of admirers, but this man is not like the rest of them, I think? He’s someone a little different, someone superior?”
She twisted up her mouth and said, “Maybe. At least that’s how he seemed at first.”
“That’s always the way. Charming, handsome, with tin to spare, yes?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And you gave him what he wanted.”
“Yes,” she said, “but I’ve had it with him! And that’s the truth!”
“Very sensible,” said Giles.
“I’m sick of him and I’m sick of all this!” she said. “He promised me a house of my own, somewhere else, London maybe or America. New York! What a fool I am! I could have had Jack Edwardes for a snap of my fingers – it was me he liked first before Sarah got her claws into him, and now he’s got all that business come to him – it wouldn’t have been so bad.” She sighed.
“Who is he?” Giles said.
“Billy,” she said. “Billy Armstrong.”
“And how did you meet him?”
“He’d come to see my father about something. I don’t know what. They knew each other way back, when they were lads. He said I looked like my mother. It seemed daft to me, that, because Billy looks much younger than my father.”
“So he’s from Northminster?”
“Yes, but he’s been away. Making his fortune – or at least so he said. I don’t believe a word of it now, but I did!” She gave a bitter laugh.
“So when was this, when he came to see your father?”
“About six months ago.”
“And what happened?”
“He and my father had words. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but then he stopped and talked to me and Sarah for a little bit and – well, he asked me if I would show him the way to the market. It was just an excuse, I knew he liked the look of me and I liked the look of him. He was different. So I went out with him and showed him the way (although Sarah was already telling me I shouldn’t) and we got talking, and one thing led to another. I’d never met anyone like him. He can charm the leaves off the trees, I suppose, and I know I’m not the only one, but –” She sighed, and again began to trace figures on the table top. “And now Sarah’s gone and my father and Jack’s pa...” She looked up and said, “Funny really. Two out of three of them. And you only want Billy to hang him, I dare say.”
“Two out of three of them?” said Giles.
“They were all prentices together,” said Amy. “Jack’s pa, my pa and Billy.” She shook her head. “I know – I couldn’t believe it when Billy told me that!”
“Here in Northminster?”
“Aye, I think so. It was at the livery-makers that Mr Edwardes had – he took it over from their master, I think. Billy said that it all used to make him spit, making uniforms for lackeys to show off how much money their masters had, so he ran away. To make the world better, he said.” She pressed her hands to her face for a moment. “All that talk. He does like to talk. All of it a lot of nonsense, if you ask me. Not that he ever did! I was just there for what a man needs. That’s the plain truth of it. He’s played me for a fool, and did very well with it. That thing you found in my room,” she said. “He gave me that. I shouldn’t have let him use it on me. If I’d got myself in the family way he’d have had to do something about it! I should have pricked it with a pin!”
“When did you last see him?”
“Yesterday,” she said, after a moment.
“And it did not go well between you?” Giles ventured.
“He didn’t want to give me the time of day. He said he was too busy to talk to me. I suppose he guessed I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, so he brushed me off properly. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“When and where was this?”
“Yesterday morning, near St Luke’s. I’ve met him there before. He wasn’t expecting me, but I managed to catch him.”
“Does he lodge near there?”
“I don’t know where he lodges. He’s never said, though I’ve asked him enough times. He’s just said to leave any letters with Mother Walker.”
“And that was why you were there yesterday, leaving a message for him, with her?”
“I told her to tell him I’d had enough of his games and that he could go to Hell!” she said. “And here I am, sending him to Hell.”
“You have done the right thing.”
“And are you sure you can’t do anything for me?” she said, with an expression that would not have disgraced a cocotte. “Given he has ruined me and I’ve been so very helpful?”
~
“She’s a fine one,” said Hammond when they had left the room. “Not a shred of grief for her poor sister.”
“The question is what to do with her, as with Walker. I don’t want Armstrong thinking that we are on to him. I’m sure they have a great deal more to tell us, but I am not quite ready to charge either of them.”
“Walker will do anything we tell him, he’s got the fear of God in him,” said Hammond. “You might have to offer her a sweetener, though, sir.”
“If that doesn’t provoke a torrent of false coin,” said Giles. “Go and write up what she said and present it to her. See if she has anything more to add. She will enjoy thinking she can charm you, and she might be more forthcoming.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“And I think we can use her to our profit in luring Armstrong out. He obviously had a weakness for her. He won’t be happy at being cast aside. Perhaps if we send her back to beg his forgiveness? His vanity must surely like that.”
“Would you trust her to do that, sir?”
“It would be a risky strategy, certainly, but it may be necessary. We need to draw him out of hiding before he spoils Christmas for all of us.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Giles stole back to Rooke Court to see how Emma was. Gratifyingly, he found her sleeping peacefully, and so sat in their bedroom by the fire, making a chart of what he knew about Billy Armstrong. It was certainly interesting that he had served his apprenticeship alongside Messrs Roper and Edwardes, and decided that his next call must be to Jack Edwardes and the livery-making establishment.
“What are you doing home?” said Emma, waking and seeing him.
“Bringing my paperwork to a warm fire,” he said, getting up and going to the bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“A little steadier,” she said. “I was rather bad earlier, but I have managed some soup and it sent me quite to sleep.”
“
I shall let you sleep some more,” said Giles. “I don’t want to leave you, but the case demands it.”
“Are you making progress?”
“Of sorts,” he said.
“You must lay down plenty of bait, Mr Ratcatcher.”
“We shall have to. He is a brute. But at least we have his name and description now.”
“Off you go, then,” she said. “I shall sleep now.”
“You might as well, as it is so quiet,” he said. “The children are behaving themselves.”
“They are all at your sister’s,” said Emma. “Tom is back from Edinburgh today, remember?”
“Yes, of course,” said Giles. “It will be Christmas Day before we know it,” at which he frowned, thinking how little they knew about Armstrong and his plans.
Emma noticed this and said, “I thought you liked Christmas?”
“I do. It is just –”
“I am sure it will all come right,” Emma said. “It always does. I have great confidence in you.”
“Even when I make impetuous decisions and fail to consult you as I should?”
“Perhaps,” she said, “such decisions need to be made for one. Forced upon one, even. Too much sensible deliberation can lead one into cowardice. Who knows what we might lose if we did not act recklessly on occasion?”
He kissed her and left her to sleep.
~
Business was continuing as usual at the livery-makers, despite the death of the proprietor. Perhaps that was what the late Mr Edward Edwardes would have wished.
He went up to the family living quarters and found Mary-Jane, the housekeeper, tending the kitchen fire.
“I cannot tell you where he is, sir,” she said, when he enquired for Jack. “I wish I could. He came back this morning and left again without saying a word. He told me what had happened to Miss Sarah and left –” She could not go on for a moment. “His heart broken twice in a week, sir. How will he bear it? He’s such a good, sweet boy.”
“Have you been with the family long?” he asked.
“It was before the late master married. I came here when he was still a prentice, in fact.” She sighed. “That’s going back a while, isn’t it?”
“So you knew the other apprentices?”
“Oh yes, sir. And a load of trouble they were. They used to live in the attic up at the back there. They live at home now. Things change. But it saves having to feed them, for they always ate like animals. And they were cheeky too. Not Mr Ned, though.”
“Mr Edwardes, you mean?”
She nodded.
“He was always a cut above the others, and the master, old Mr Finch, liked him best of all, because he was always such a hard worker. He loved the business and it was no surprise he took it over when he could. He did it soon enough.”
“Where did he get the money?” Giles asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Why would I know about that? I think he got some money coming to him, and he bought out his master, who wanted to retire. I could have gone with Mr and Mrs Finch but I liked Mr Ned, so I stayed on. He was always kind to me. The others, well...” She shook her head.
“You mean the apprentices who were trained with Mr Ned?” said Giles, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Do you remember any of them in particular?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Miss Sarah’s father, for a start.” She shook her head. “Oh, that was a terrible business when they started courting. I wish he had never laid eyes on her, for I knew right from the start it would all end badly. And it has,” she said. “But I couldn’t say anything, could I, because he was so happy and – poor lamb – he’s had little of that over the years.” She sighed again.
“Do you know why they quarrelled? Mr Roper and your master, that is?”
“You know what happens when you put cocks together in a pen – they fight.”
“Yes, of course, but this seems to have been a very long-held grievance,” Giles said. “Can you remember what the cause of their original quarrel was?”
“They just couldn’t bear the sight of one another,” she said, after a moment. “That’s all there was to it.”
“And that was enough to make a marriage between their children utterly unacceptable?” Giles said. “I wonder if there wasn’t something more to it, something you aren’t telling me. Remember, if you please, they are both dead,” he added, “and in such curious circumstances.”
“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed. “Of course, I remember that! How am I to forget it, sir, when my own dear master is... and after all these years, just when it was all going so well for him!” She sat down and sobbed. “This should have been the best of times, and instead we will be burying him, Master Jack and I, and no one else will care to come to his grave!”
“Tell me what you know,” Giles said, drawing his chair nearer. “It is your duty to do so, and it will ease your pain.”
She shook her head and continued to cry, and then at last scrubbed dry her tears with her apron, and looked directly at him with a trembling lip.
“But I promised him, sir, I promised him. That I would never say a word –”
“The time is past for keeping such secrets,” he said. “You know that. You have done as you promised. Now tell me: what happened between your master and Roper all those years ago?”
She sniffed and nodded, and then, knotting her hands together and with her head bowed, said, “It was old Mr Finch’s money. They found it, you see, and took it, bit by bit so he wouldn’t notice it. The silly old fool kept it in a bag behind a loose brick. And Roper and Mr Ned found it, and took out a coin, one at a time, and replaced it with bits of broken pot so that he never noticed it was all slipping away.”
“And how did you learn this?”
“I caught them at it one day, and Roper said he’d kill me if I told a living soul, and he meant it. So I didn’t. And Mr Ned said he’d look after me if I didn’t say a word, which he has, God rest his soul, for his own son has told me that he has left me some money in his will and that I am to stay under this roof for the rest of my life.”
“You ought to have told someone,” Giles said.
“I know, sir, I know,” she said. “But who’d have believed me? And how could I do it when Mr Ned was always so good to me? No one has ever been as kind to me as he was. Even before, when Billy Armstrong was still there, he kept him away from me.” She gave a shudder.
“Ah yes, Billy Armstrong. Tell me about him.”
“He had the Devil in him, that’s what I think. There was a girl here, younger than me, and pretty, and he used her. Got her with child and then she killed herself trying to get rid of it. We were right glad when he ran off.” She sniffed.
“And how did Roper and your master regard him?” said Giles.
“They hated him. But he always seemed to get the upper hand over him. He had a way of stirring it up between them, taking one side and then the other, just for the fun of seeing them fight. He was as bad as they come. A wicked one, through and through. And always going on and on, like a preacher, about how all the masters ought to be put down and we should have a revolution like the French and clean out the dirty stables with blood. And how can you clean a stable with blood? I always wanted to ask him that but I was too afraid of him, even though he was younger than me.”
“Did Billy know about the money?” Giles asked.
“No, sir, that was after he had gone.”
“And can you remember when he left?”
“It was 1817. I remember because it was after Princess Charlotte died, in the winter.”
~
Giles called in at the Infirmary on his way back to the Northern Office, and found Carswell changing the dressing on Coxe’s head.
“Healing nicely,” said Carswell. “You will be able to go home soon.”
“Excellent. And I have some information for you both, about which I would like your opinions. I have just called at Mr Edwardes’ livery-making establishment.”
He
proceeded to tell them what he had learnt.
“That gives Edwardes a strong motive to murder Roper,” Carswell said. “Perhaps he feared exposure? Perhaps Roper threatened him with that.”
“Or tried to get more money out of him,” said Coxe.
“That makes sense,” said Giles. “After all, Roper has not behaved in a straight manner with anyone. He has been playing two manufacturers off against each other, promising exclusivity. He also took a hundred pounds from Jack Edwardes towards the sewing machine. Selling his silence would be in character.”
“But why now?” Coxe said.
“I think you both may be right,” said Giles. “Edwardes had just taken over Loake’s business, and maintaining a respectable appearance could not be more important. Perhaps Roper asked for an extortionate amount of money to maintain his silence and Edwardes lost his temper. And in making his escape, having left Roper bleeding to death on the floor, slashes his leg on that nail.”
“What a fool that old tailor was to keep such a sum of cash hidden in his house,” Carswell said.
“It’s not uncommon, sir,” said Coxe. “People don’t trust banks. They like to see and touch their money.”
“Speaking of which,” said Giles, “there is no sign that Roper had banked any of the cash he got from Williamson and Blake.”
“Perhaps he had it on the premises, then,” said Carswell, “and Edwardes and Armstrong were attempting to get hold of it, and when Roper tried to stop them he was killed?”
“That’s an interesting idea,” said Giles.
“That would explain why Armstrong was there on Saturday,” said Coxe, “if he wanted to try again to find the money.”
“But we went over the place thoroughly,” said Giles. “There wasn’t anything that suggested a recently emptied cache.”
“Maybe he kept it elsewhere, sir,” said Coxe. “At another property. After that experience with his old master, he’d be wily, I’m sure, sir.”
“Excellent suggestion. And given the amount of cash he had, it would have been easy to rent other premises.” He thought for a moment. “He met both Blake and Williamson at The Greyhound in Darnell’s Cross. Was that district perhaps convenient for him, as well as discreet? I think I might just ride out there before it gets dark and see if he was known in that neighbourhood. Perhaps you’d care to come with me, Mr Carswell?”
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