Death Between the Pages

by Beth Byers

Joseph hid his reaction, but his stomach dropped. The last thing he wanted to do was take in the woman Robert had been obsessing over. His brother had watched Evelyn for months and therefore, Joseph had done the same. She seemed like a nice woman. She talked to little kids and they left her smiling. Her supervisor at the Yard said she was his best file clerk and the most conscientious employee. Very few people in Harper’s Hollow seemed to know her at all. She was quiet. She was, in fact, rather a lot like Georgette had once been.

  Joseph let his gaze linger on Lenz and asked, “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Lenz replied. “I heard Evelyn and Mrs. Hobbs screaming and I came running. Warren was in the grass bleeding, Evelyn was covered in blood, and Mrs. Hobbs was saying Ev had hurt Warren.”

  Joseph watched as Charles, Jimmy, Dr. West, and Rogers, along with one of the farmers from nearly, lifted Warren’s body and took it away. Joseph frowned as he watched and then he turned to speak with Mrs. Hobbs, leaving Lenz behind with the statement, “We’ll be speaking again.”

  Mrs. Hobbs was rocking back and forth as the body of her son was taken away. She wasn’t, however, insisting that she go along. Joseph couldn’t imagine the women in his life not accompanying their loved one when they might die.

  “Did you arrest my niece?” she demanded the moment he approached. “A snake in the nest. I never should have taken her in. Her father was a demon with a pretty face and she doesn’t even have that pretty face.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw my niece murdering my son.”

  “How?” Joseph demanded.

  Mrs. Hobbs paused. “He was stabbed, wasn’t he?”

  “Did you see the knife in her hand?”

  Mrs. Hobbs started to shake her head and then said, “I saw something.”

  Joseph would have bet every penny he had that Mrs. Hobbs was lying to him. “What happened to the something that you saw?”

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Hobbs hissed. “She was murdering my son. I was focused on other things.”

  “Like attacking her?” Joseph asked flatly. His gaze narrowed on the woman.

  “She was murdering my son,” Mrs. Hobbs snapped again. The woman looked as though she were about to murder Joseph if he didn’t immediately comply with her wants.

  “She wasn’t,” Martha argued, approached. “Evelyn was trying to stop the bleeding.”

  “She was murdering my son,” Mrs. Hobbs hissed. “I had to stop her.”

  “Evelyn wasn’t touching Warren when Mrs. Hobbs attacked,” Martha told Joseph. “Ev was begging Dean to put pressure on the wounds. Evelyn had been doing it and then she stopped when her aunt came out.”

  “Liar!” Mrs. Hobbs growled. “Liar!”

  “Enough,” Joseph snapped. “We’ll be talking again about what happened to your niece and your son.” Joseph shook his head and then turned to Martha. “What did you see?”

  She shook her head, shuddering. “Will he die?”

  “I don’t know,” Joseph lied. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Martha said, hiccupping and then putting her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t see anything.” She turned and ran into her house.

  Joseph put his hands on his hips, staring after her. He crossed to where the body lay and noted the large blood pool that had soaked into the dirt. He walked through the grass and then turned to gesture to Rogers and Jimmy.

  “Search the area. If there’s a weapon, we need to find it, and we need to find it now.”

  They both nodded and Jimmy looked to Rogers for more immediate instructions. Those happened while Joseph squatted next to where Warren had been lying. There were signs of a struggle, the grass bent with footprints amongst the long grasses. Nothing that was distinctive but enough to tell that Warren had tried to fight off his attacker.

  “Are we taking her in?” Constable Rogers asked a good hour later. They’d found only a large branch with blood on it. There was no sign of a weapon but there was no question Hobbs had been stabbed with something.

  “Where did you find the branch?” Joseph asked instead of answering.

  “A ways down that path,” Rogers replied. “Just because we didn’t find the weapon yet doesn’t mean we won’t.” No doubt the constable was wondering why Joseph hadn’t taken the girl in already.

  “We need to talk to her,” Joseph replied, “before we come to any conclusions. Was there a blood trail from where you found it?”

  Rogers nodded and then said, “Hard to believe that the quiet little thing could be responsible for a crime so vicious. I guess you never know what’s going on behind the eyes of the quiet ones.”

  Joseph didn’t reply. He stared at the houses. The end of the lane had Thorland Farm on one side with their property rolling out behind them. On the other side was the trio of small cottages that were tucked into a clearing. There was a good stretch of trees before the next round of houses, but that didn’t mean that it was hard to travel from those houses to the little back garden where Warren Hobbs had been found.

  “What’s over that way?” Joseph pointed towards the area behind the back garden.

  Rogers shook his head and Charles said, “I could walk it out and see where it ends.”

  “Would you?” Joseph asked and Charles nodded. “Be careful. If there’s a madman, that’s the most likely escape route. Fewer witnesses. Who knows where Thorland or his hands would be, so the farm would be too risky. Especially if Thorland has dogs.”

  “He does,” Rogers said. “They’re mean too if they don’t know you. Thorland had problems with chicken thieves in the past. And probably not of the fox variety.”

  Joseph nodded. If the farm was out, the back of the trio of houses seemed to be the best way to flee. Would someone know that?

  “Go with Charles, Rogers. Look for a weapon, watch his back, and look for signs of someone fleeing. If there is anyone to speak to, make sure you ask if anyone was seen going that way.”

  Rogers nodded and Charles told Joseph, “You have my auto.”

  Joseph nodded and Charles followed Rogers towards the back of the property. Joseph headed for the Hobbs house. He sent Mrs. Hobbs with Jimmy to the doctor’s office with a well-placed guilty message and so took the chance to walk through her house.

  Mrs. Hobbs’s bedroom was at the back of the house with a neatly made bed and little else other than a few dresses on pegs. He followed the stairs up and found two bedrooms, one of which was clearly Warren’s and disgusting. The other was filled with boxes and random things that looked to have been collected over a lifetime. There were signs that, perhaps, the late Mr. Hobbs had once used the room, but he had been dead for a while if Joseph remembered correctly.

  Joseph returned to the small hallway, found the bath, but had to wonder where Evelyn slept. There was nothing that showed her bedroom. Joseph passed back and forth several times before he noted the opening in the hall ceiling and the hanging cord.

  “No,” he said. She couldn’t possibly sleep up in the attic, could she?

  He pulled the cord, climbed the rickety ladder, and then peered through the opening. Boxes and trunks, cobwebs, and then near a small window, a cot. Joseph stared for a moment and then pushed through the opening and crossed to the small area where Evelyn Hobbs was housed.

  Joseph wasn’t able to stand upright and when he reached where she lived, he cursed in disbelief. She had a small cot with several thin blankets, a small trunk with a few dresses, and then another much larger trunk that had been filled with books. He went through her things carefully, guessing she would hate it, not because he was snooping but because of her situation. He found a propped mirror and a chipped pitcher and basin to serve as a wash room, along with a couple rags that must have passed for towels.

  On his second pass, he found a small bag tucked into an old shoe where she kept her funds. She hadn’t saved much, but given how carefully it was hidden, Joseph assumed she had every reason to believe that her family would take the money if they fou
nd it.

  A slow, rising anger grew in Joseph. As a man who had been raised by relatives himself, he was disgusted to see how she was treated and he had a moment of intense gratitude for his uncle who had—without a pause—taken in Joseph and Robert and loved and respected them, never once making either feel unwanted.

  Joseph made notes about what he found and had to admit what he was seeing was a reason that Evelyn Hobbs might be feeling a little murderous. Continued abuse that it seemed she might have experienced was a motive for the attack that Warren Hobbs had experienced.

  Had he done something that pushed the otherwise sweet Evelyn Hobbs over the edge of her tolerance? Perhaps he’d left her after whatever that was, and she’d picked up a nearby branch, bashed him hard, disabling him long enough to stab him a time or two.

  He considered the timeline and then looked again through her things. Given the amount of empathy he had for the woman who had been treated as he was seeing, he hated himself for taking her journal when he discovered it.

  Joseph returned to the lower part of the house and carefully went through Warren Hobbs’s room. He found IOUs, but they all looked to be satisfied. There was nothing so convenient as a journal or letters to explain why Hobbs might have been attacked. Dirty magazines, dirty clothes, even dirty dishes but nothing more to clear up what had happened to Hobbs or why.

  Joseph returned to Mrs. Hobbs’s room and to his surprise found an accounting book. As he glanced through it, he frowned once again. Regular supplements from “E” added onto the motives. He wasn’t sure what file clerks at Scotland Yard made in salary, but what he was seeing had to be most of it. They gave her a corner of the attic and took all of her money. It was enough to push anyone towards murder.

  Perhaps she’d simply had enough and told them that she was going to leave. If Hobbs had told her no or tried to stop her, what happened to him could have been self-defense. By Jove, Joseph hoped that Evelyn was smart enough to elucidate how they treated her, perhaps an attack or fear for herself against Hobbs. A small woman like her, a big man like Hobbs, it would be enough to save her from hanging if she were smart about the information she gave.

  11

  CHARLES AARON

  “I don’t know the Hobbs family,” Charles said to Rogers as they walked out of the back garden and found a foot path. “Do you?”

  Rogers shook his head. “Well, Warren is a bit of a piece of work to be honest. Big fellow like that, ready with his fists. Today was hardly my first time taking note of him.”

  “What about Miss Hobbs?”

  “Never noticed her,” Rogers muttered, leaning down to examine a bush like some sort of master tracker. Charles watched quizzically, wondering if Rogers was working from a place of skill or if he were just guessing at what might be important. Charles was more of a city man himself and only since he’d met Georgette had he spent quite so much time on foot. She hadn’t had an auto when he’d met her and even though she’d learn to operate a vehicle now, she was far more inclined to get where she needed to go using her feet.

  Charles followed in silence for a while and then asked, “When did you get the call about the attack on Hobbs?”

  “About 1:30 or so,” Rogers said. “Jimmy should have written down the exact time when the call came in.”

  Charles nodded. Their afternoon tea had been scheduled for 2:00 pm. Marian and Georgette had planned for the courses of the tea to come slowly so they could get to know Evelyn Hobbs better.

  Would his nephew be heartbroken when the woman he had been watching so carefully for so long was arrested for murder?

  Charles couldn’t help but think back to those early days with Georgette. She’d snuck up on him, but he had read her book, and he’d met with her a time or two before the fascination had overcome him. Would he have fallen for her if he’d just seen her with a big bloke he assumed she was married to? Thinking of her now and only knowing her through watching her, he could admit that with her calm demeanor he’d have to have been quite observant to realize the depths of Georgette’s quiet personality.

  What about Robert? If anything, Robert was far more observant than Charles. They got that from their mother, Charles thought, thinking back to her. His brother had fallen in love with her in a few short days. They’d met at a fete and James had never looked at another woman until the day they died.

  Perhaps, Robert got the ability to see into Evelyn from his mother and the ability to throw his heart into a woman’s hands so quickly from James. Charles frowned as he walked and it took them a good twenty minutes to reach the end of the trail and come out behind the church.

  “How far do you think it is to my house from here?” Charles asked.

  “At least another twenty minutes,” Rogers added. “I didn’t see anyone along the way, but that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t someone. I’m going to go back and follow those possible side trails and see if they lead anywhere interesting, but first I’ll go to the vicar and see if anyone came walking through the churchyard earlier.”

  Charles nodded and then took the walk home. If it really was twenty minutes, the very precise Miss Hobbs would have been late to their tea. He frowned as he considered, wondering how seriously he could take the timing? Perhaps she had left quite a bit before to give herself time to reach his house. If she had, she might have run into her cousin, had a confrontation, and only called for help once she realized what she had done?

  Charles frowned. He wasn’t sure he believed it, but he couldn’t help but think of little Janey and her idea to resolve the matter with a cricket bat. Rogers had spoken of a sturdy branch. Perhaps a sturdy, convenient branch for a poor woman who had been pushed too far?

  ROBERT AARON

  Evelyn’s wheezing had stopped, which gave him a little comfort but not much. She needed the doctor, but West was busy with Hobbs and those seeping wounds. Robert spoke to Evelyn nonsensically, not even sure of what he was saying as he monitored her pulse. It seemed fast, but he wasn’t sure what that meant. Slowly, the wooden look had left her and a sort of broken horror had followed.

  Robert wanted nothing more than scoop her up, take her home, and tell her that everything would be all right. He wasn’t sure, however, that he wasn’t falling for a figment of his imagination. Yes, her looks had stolen his gaze and her quiet demeanor had intrigued his mind, but he knew that he didn’t actually know her. Still, he felt a sense of loyalty to her that he knew their time together didn’t bear out. That being said, he was going to do all he could for her simply because if he didn’t, he’d always wonder and regret. In the twilight of his days, when he looked back, he wanted to know he’d pursued this senseless intrigue to its end. Even if that end was wishing her well and moving on his with his life.

  “I need to talk to her,” Joseph told him and Robert started.

  “She can’t really talk,” Robert told Joseph. “The only reason I haven’t insisted we go straight to the doctor is because he’s got his hands full with Hobbs. I think she’s in shock.”

  Joseph took in the broken look, the slow tears, the sound to each breath as she struggled to breathe through her wounded throat. The bruises hadn’t formed yet, but the red angry marks on Miss Hobbs’s neck were sufficient to provide her a reasonable excuse.

  “Take her to Dr. West,” Joseph told Robert. “I need you to stay with her until either myself or Rogers arrives.”

  Robert’s gaze narrowed on Joseph and he crossed to his brother and hissed, “You don’t think she did this?”

  “She was found over the body and she’s covered in blood,” Joseph told Robert even though he had his own doubts. “Robert, you wrote a scene not all that different than this.”

  “Lottie wasn’t guilty in my book,” Robert reminded him in an angry whisper. “And Evelyn isn’t Lottie. Lottie was based off of Evelyn’s looks not a personal knowledge of her.”

  “Take her to Dr. West. Stay with her. I promise, I will do my best to find out what happened, but Robert—” Joseph reached out
and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “The truth might not be what you want to hear.”

  Robert frowned darkly and then nodded. “She might not be what I want her to be, but everything I’ve seen from watching her and,” Robert blushed lightly, “we both know I have done too much of that, has told me, Joseph, that she’s a good woman.”

  “Good people can be driven to the edge of reason,” Joseph whispered back. “I don’t want her to be guilty. I want her to be all that you hope, but we have to follow the truth.”

  Robert nodded and then clasped his brother on the shoulder in return before he crossed to Evelyn and squatted in front of her. “We need to go to the doctor’s office and have you checked out.”

  “I want to change,” she said, her voice scratchy and thin. Her tear-filled gaze turned to Robert and then to Joseph, who paused.

  “I’ll have something brought to Dr. West’s office,” Joseph told her as gently as he could.

  Evelyn nodded, but another, bigger tear slipped down her cheeks. “Is Warren still alive?”

  Joseph paused again before he said, “Yes. Alive and in the doctor’s care.”

  Robert watched her carefully, but there wasn’t a reaction in her expression. Was she without emotion? Was she so overwhelmed that she wasn’t processing what he said? Was she simply at her limits? If she wasn’t guilty, she’d found her cousin, tried to save him, been attacked by her aunt, and accused of murder. It was a lot for any one person to handle and it wasn’t fair to judge her reactions at a moment such as this. Robert could only hope that Joseph felt the same.

  Robert considered Evelyn, noted her still struggling to breathe, and then he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the auto. He tucked his coat around her again and then took the blanket from the boot and put it over her lap.

  As he left, he saw Jimmy return and join Joseph back at the Hobbs house. They were going to search that house for a weapon, Robert thought, and pray that they didn’t find anything that directed their attention to Evelyn again. As they drove away, Robert saw Mr. and Mrs. Lenz on the side of their house. They were watching what was happening without speaking. Was it entertaining from their perspective? Or just something that they couldn't quite turn away from. Neither of them seemed happy.