The young man grinned. He had been very upset by the arrest of Sawyer but Woods’ good humour seemed to lighten his mood.
‘I’d have thought you had enough to drink last night to last you a while,’ Lavender said.
‘Now, now, sir,’ Woods said. ‘Don’t be talkin’ like that or the young lad will think I’m a tosspot.’
Apart from Old Pete Jarman, who sat alone with his glass by the fireside, the only other men who remained in the taproom were Captain Rushperry and Mr Howard. Lavender remembered that Caleb Liquorish and Morgan Turnbull-Thatcher had been the first two to scurry out of the door when he arrested the three murderers. The relief that Lavender didn’t intend to expose them had been etched across their faces.
Mr Howard reached out and shook Lavender’s hand. ‘Congratulations on the arrests you’ve made, sir.’
There was no sign of either the landlord or his barmaid so Woods and Clancy left the room in search of some ale. Lavender sank wearily down into a chair next to Captain Rushperry. The lack of sleep over the last few days had caught up with him again.
‘Mr Howard is right,’ Captain Rushperry said. ‘You and Woods have done well. Like I said earlier today, I’ll see you are both rewarded for this. You have rounded up not one, but two dangerous gangs of villains. Northamptonshire owes you a great debt, sir.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Talking of expenses,’ Rushperry said, ‘did you find out if Billy Sculthorpe was William Sculthorpe’s legitimate son while you were down in London? I’m concerned that now we know Sculthorpe was a priest, the law will assume they weren’t related and I will be unable to recoup the expenses I have incurred for his care over the last few weeks.’
Lavender shook his head, sadly. ‘I found no evidence of a connection between Sculthorpe and Billy.’
‘It’s a shame,’ Rushperry said. ‘Now Billy won’t inherit Sculthorpe’s money and if no other heirs come forward, it will pass to the crown. There is no money to provide for Billy’s care. He can’t go into the poorhouse as he’s unable to work. No, I’m afraid it will have to be the county asylum.’
Lavender winced. ‘Perhaps the Lady Anne . . .’ he suggested.
‘The Lady Anne?’ Rushperry asked sharply. ‘Why should she care about a fatherless cretin with no visible means of support?’ He shook his head. ‘No, I’ll send a note to the county asylum tomorrow and ask them to collect him as soon as they can. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.’
Lavender was about to speak when the door opened and Constables Woods and Clancy appeared, clutching tankards and a pitcher of ale. They placed the tankards on the table, pulled up stools and sat down. Woods poured out the ale and Lavender downed his drink in one, his throat parched. Woods immediately refilled his tankard.
‘You’ve done well, sir,’ he said. ‘That were probably one of the most confusin’ cases we’ve ever had to solve – and I’m just sorry I weren’t able to find out who J.D. were for you.’
Lavender managed a tired smile. ‘Oh, I already know the identity of J.D.’
‘Constable Clancy?’ Captain Rushperry’s podgy fingers raised his tankard in the air. ‘Will you join me in a toast to these two clever London policemen?’
Clancy happily followed the magistrate’s example. ‘Detective Lavender and Constable Woods!’
‘Well, the villains had me fooled,’ Constable Clancy admitted, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I still can’t believe they hurt the Sculthorpes so badly and then returned to the cottage as their saviours only a few moments later. The gall of those men!’
‘It’s often the ones we least expect,’ Lavender said. He felt utterly exhausted.
‘I’m particularly distressed about Constable Sawyer,’ the young man added. ‘I’d always admired him as an officer and now I feel, well, foolish.’
‘Don’t worry about it, son,’ Woods said cheerfully. ‘The detective here may have marked Sawyer’s card early on but I never saw his perfidy. He gulled me too.’
Lavender glanced at Woods’ ear, which was still red, sore and swollen. ‘It was probably Sawyer who attacked you the other day in Cottingham. As far as I can make out, the other two were still at their work.’
‘I hope the bugger hangs!’
‘He tried to steer us in the direction of blaming the Panther Gang for Sculthorpe’s murder and made several attempts to extract information from us. When we turned down his offer of help and wouldn’t let him near the investigation he decided to try and sabotage it instead by crippling you.’
‘He damn near killed me!’
‘All’s well that ends well,’ Rushperry said. ‘By the way, Constable, why did you bring in the ale?’ Rushperry glanced around the miserable, empty taproom. ‘Where’s Bunning and his barmaid?’ In the pause that followed, they heard the sound of banging and raised voices drifting from the rooms upstairs.
Woods leant forward across the table. ‘He’s a bit busy, sir,’ he said in a low voice. ‘He’s upstairs arguin’ with that Susie Dicken and throwin’ her out. Unfortunately, Mr Bunnin’ wouldn’t believe his nephew had anythin’ to do with the attack on the Sculthorpes. So I enlightened him on the quiet about why Sculthorpe were blackmailin’ his nephew.’
Captain Rushperry laughed. ‘Young Isaac was a bit of a lad, was he?’
‘Aye,’ growled Woods, ‘and his uncle is a soft-hearted fool.’
‘William Sculthorpe found out about it and blackmailed Isaac Bunning in exchange for his silence,’ Lavender said. ‘I should imagine the young lad was only too willing to join Sawyer and Goode in the attack.’
‘I think most of Middleton knew about Isaac and the girl,’ Constable Clancy said. ‘It was only a matter of time before his uncle found out. Was Sculthorpe blackmailin’ Harry Goode too?’
Lavender shook his head. ‘There’s no evidence of that. I suspect Goode was motivated by the promise of Sculthorpe’s gold. He was penniless and heading for debtors’ gaol.’
Captain Rushperry threw back his head and downed the last of his ale with a belch of satisfaction. His fingers reached for the buttons on his coat and he stood up. ‘Well, Lavender, thanks to you, for the second time today, I now have to escort a gang of villains to the gaol at Market Harborough. I just hope it’s big enough to hold them all. Come along, Constable Clancy.’
Rushperry stopped and turned back before they left the tavern. ‘Once we’ve locked up this gang, the militia intend to hold a little celebration – in The Angel Inn with Alby Kilby. Will you join us?’
Lavender shook his head but he felt Woods sit up straighter beside him. ‘I’m afraid I won’t, Captain Rushperry – although Constable Woods will probably be there. I’m for an early night in my bed tonight. And tomorrow I must call on Lady Anne at Rockingham Castle – and find a barber.’
There was a nonplussed silence.
Woods leant towards the magistrate and winked. ‘You should see him celebrate down in London, sir. When he gets really excited, sometimes he reads a book.’
Rushperry and Clancy laughed.
‘Well, if you’re sure you won’t join us, Lavender?’ Rushperry reached for his gloves. ‘And on behalf of the magistracies of Northamptonshire and Leicestershire, thank you. Thank you, once again.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
Thursday 8th March, 1810
Middleton, Northamptonshire
Despite the warmth of the spring sun and the prettiness of the primroses and lilac hellebores in Mrs Tilley’s garden, Lavender felt an icy sense of foreboding as he walked up to the door of Willow Cottage. He intended to seek an interview with Judith Wallace and he knew it would be distressing. He had no idea how she would react when confronted with her past but he suspected it would be painful for her. He wanted to give her a chance to explain herself before he made up his mind about what course of action to follow. His duty was to clap the damned woman in irons and drag her off to the gaol and trial but his conversation with Lady Caroline and Duddles had made him
think twice and he wanted to talk to her first.
Lavender had come to Middleton alone. Woods was back in Market Harborough spending some time with his brother before they returned to London later that evening. He’d heard the two men plan to go fishing on the canal. He regretted his decision to leave Woods behind now and he wished Magdalena was here too. Her counsel in this matter would have been welcome.
The weather-beaten sign swung in the breeze above his head. A sudden flash of irritation made him frown and he paused on the doorstep of the guesthouse. What was the matter with this damned place? he wondered. Why were there so many criminals and law-breakers in this rural community? Was there something in the spring water they drank that made them into such a large and diverse band of ruffians?
He sighed, shook his head and rapped on the door.
Mrs Tilley led Lavender upstairs to the Wallaces’ sitting room, where Judith Wallace was alone with her embroidery. The colour drained from her face when she saw him. Has she been expecting me? he wondered. Her husband would have already told her they had uncovered a woman amongst Sculthorpe’s blackmail victims.
Once they were alone, she rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘How, how can I help you, Detective?’
‘I will be brief, Baroness Danvers,’ he said. ‘I know William Sculthorpe was blackmailing you and I know why.’ She gave a little cry and her hand shot over her mouth. She sank back down onto the sofa and covered her face with both her hands as she struggled to hold back her sobs. Her shoulders shook.
He sat down unbidden in the upholstered chair opposite and gave her a few moments to compose herself. When she finally glanced up at him he saw the fear burning in her eyes.
‘You know?’ she whispered. ‘How?’
‘You gave your maiden name to your son for his second name and I saw it in the school register. During my investigation into William Sculthorpe, I was given access to the marriage registers at the chapel of the Sardinian Embassy. I have seen a record of your first marriage to Baron Lionel Danvers and I know William Sculthorpe conducted the service. I also know you paid him three shillings a week for his silence. He recorded your payments in his ledger next to the initials J.D.’
Her face crumpled and she sobbed into her hands. Her own handkerchief was soaked within moments. Lavender pulled out his handkerchief and passed it across to her. She nodded gratefully between great gulping sobs. ‘Please don’t tell John! Please don’t tell my husband! I don’t care what happens to me – but please don’t tell John. It will kill him!’
‘Doctor Wallace doesn’t know about this?’
She shook her bowed head.
‘Your affection for Doctor Wallace does you credit,’ Lavender said. ‘However, I can’t see how we can avoid telling him that you are not his legal wife. How long have you been together?’
She blew her nose on his handkerchief and made an effort to pull herself together. ‘For over twenty years.’ Her voice was croaky. ‘We met at an Assembly Room dance in Glasgow.’
‘I think you had better tell me what happened, Baroness – from the beginning.’
Still clutching his handkerchief, she folded her hands in her lap and sat up straighter. The previous stiffness in her manner had now vanished. The woman looked vulnerable – and far older than the cold and confident doctor’s wife he had first met in this room. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll tell you – but please don’t call me Baroness. I have no right to that title.’
He nodded and waited. The wooden clock ticked quietly on the mantelpiece.
‘I made a foolish decision when I was a young woman.’
‘How so?’
‘I was very close to my father, Detective. My mother died when I was born and I had no older siblings. Although we were related to the Fitzwilliams, we were from a poorer branch of the family and my father was besieged by money worries and hounded by his creditors. When I was seventeen, Lady Anne Fitzwilliam offered me her patronage for a season in London. This was my chance to make a good match that might help my father. His health was precarious and I worried for him constantly. I planned to marry the richest man I could find.’
‘You hoped your future husband might help to alleviate your father’s debts?’
‘Yes. I was naïve, Detective, I know that now. I thought that if I made a good match I might be able to help my father. Danvers was the wealthiest of my suitors and promised to help him. I deliberately pursued a loveless marriage for financial gain.’
She paused and Lavender waited while she struggled to find the words to talk about her marriage. ‘I didn’t know of Danvers’ reputation for brutality at the time. Lady Anne warned me that there were unsavoury rumours attached to his name but I brushed off her concerns. I was determined to have him. It wasn’t until after the wedding that I . . .’ She stopped and lowered her head in embarrassment. He watched the colour flushing up over the top of her high-necked gown onto the lower part of her face.
‘Let me assure you, Detective, I had good cause to flee from my home and my husband.’ Her hands began to shake and he heard the catch in her voice. ‘I was abused, violently abused. My husband violated and humiliated me in ways a woman should never have to endure.’ She swallowed and looked up straight into his eyes. ‘My husband treated his dogs better than he treated me – and he thrashed them regularly.’
Lavender looked away, embarrassed. ‘I have heard worrying reports about his reputation,’ he said.
‘As an officer of the law, I’m sure you know that a man can rape and sodomise his wife with impunity . . .’
‘What made you decide to leave?’ Lavender asked quickly.
‘It was Lady Anne’s idea,’ she said. ‘We had become good friends – despite the age difference between us and the opposition from my husband.’
Why doesn’t it surprise me that Lady Anne was behind the elaborate plot to extricate Judith Danvers from her marriage? Lavender thought. The dowager countess was probably the most manipulative woman he had ever met. Her devious scheming would have put the legendary Lucrezia Borgia to shame.
‘My father had died by then. Lady Anne was my only comfort and ally. We knew Danvers would never let me go and she suggested I pretend to drown myself in the river. Lady Anne organised everything, the change of clothes and the hidden carriage on the lane by the riverbank. I fled up to Glasgow and lived there quietly.’ She flinched at a memory and clutched the handkerchief in her lap tighter until her knuckles turned white. ‘It . . . it took me some time to recover from what I had been through with Danvers.’
Lavender grimaced and shuffled uncomfortably on the chair. ‘I understand why you fled your marriage, Mrs Wallace, but not why you bigamously married Doctor Wallace a few years later. You did know, didn’t you, that this is a crime?’
The dark and tearful pools of her eyes looked into his again. ‘I saw a chance for happiness, Detective,’ she said quietly, ‘and I snatched at it.’
He sighed. What else was there to say on the matter? After all, what did they all do in this tenuous and fleeting life, but snatch at happiness?
‘The last twenty years have been the happiest of my life, Detective. My marriage to John, our daughter and our son, they have all given me such joy. I know what I did was wrong – and I know it will break their hearts when they find out the truth about me – but if I found myself in the same situation, I would marry John all over again.’
Lavender heard the quiet passion in her voice but he frowned. Whatever the moral rights or wrongs of her initial deception, the woman had broken the law and become a bigamist. Would such a woman have any compulsion about poisoning an old man who threatened her life and blackmailed her?
‘What happened with William Sculthorpe?’
She threw up her hands in a gesture of despair. ‘Lady Anne forgot to warn me that Father William – Mr Sculthorpe – now lived in the area when John and I moved down here from Glasgow. It slipped her mind that he had married me to Danvers. I bumped into him in the village and he recognised me too. The threats and
the blackmailing began almost immediately.’
‘Is that why you tried to poison him?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You gave poisonous ink cap mushrooms to William Sculthorpe.’
Her mouth fell open in surprise, then clamped shut again. Confusion clouded her eyes.
‘You knew that ink cap mushrooms are poisonous?’
‘Well, yes, but only when taken with alcohol and I didn’t give them to him. The mean old man demanded those ink cap mushrooms from me when he saw them in my basket. You should have seen his eyes light up with greed.’
‘I only have your word for that, Mrs Wallace. A prosecution lawyer might argue that because you knew your friend Lady Anne kept Sculthorpe supplied with brandy you saw an opportunity to get rid of the old man for once and for all.’
She took in a sharp intake of breath and seemed to recoil. ‘Are you accusing me of poisoning William Sculthorpe?’
Lavender shrugged. ‘You had a motive and it is obvious from the report your husband wrote after Sculthorpe’s death that the poison was already taking effect when Sawyer and his gang assaulted him. If the attack hadn’t happened, Sculthorpe would have died from mushroom poisoning.’
She looked horrified. ‘But I didn’t try to kill him! How was I supposed to know the old sot drank brandy with his breakfast?’
Lavender hesitated. He had the curious sensation he had just been wrong-footed. ‘Breakfast? What do you mean “breakfast”?’
‘He wanted the mushrooms for his breakfast. I warned him – as I warned you – that the flavour is never good unless they’re cooked almost immediately after harvesting. I assumed he would eat them for breakfast. I had no idea he drank brandy in the morning.’
‘He drank brandy every evening. Even a gap of several hours between the mushrooms and the brandy would have been enough to make him ill. As it happened, he saved the mushrooms until later and ate them for his supper.’
The Sculthorpe Murder Page 26
