THE APOTHECARY’S DAUGHTER an absolutely gripping crime thriller that will take your breath away

by Jane Adams

  Hope’s nerve broke. She was only eight years old and had seen her dearest friend accused of witchcraft and now her own mother was accusing her too.

  ‘She isn’t evil. Kitty isn’t evil! And I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.’

  She flew at her mother, biting and scratching, screaming hysterically as Martha tried to fight her off. The child clung to her, tearing at her mother’s face and screaming Kitty’s name, and by the time they finally pulled her away, Martha’s face ran with blood, nail marks down both cheeks as though clawed by some giant cat.

  ‘Take my wife to her room and tend to her face,’ Randall ordered. Then he turned to his daughter, looking helplessly at her tearstained face and the bloody fingers. Finally, he reached out his hand and took hers.

  ‘We will go to the church,’ he said quietly, ‘and we will pray together, all night if need be, until you ask God to forgive you and I will ask Him to remember that you are just a child.’

  Chapter Forty-one

  That afternoon Ray went back to see Helen Jones.

  ‘You again,’ she said when Ray appeared on her doorstep, but she let him in and led the way into the kitchen. ‘Ian’s watching TV in there,’ she said, indicating the living room. ‘I don’t want him upset. You want tea? I’ll make it in the pot.’

  ‘Would you like me to do it?’ The comment earned him a half smile. He was beginning to value Helen’s smiles.

  ‘I went to see Halshaw,’ he told her as he filled the kettle.

  ‘That creep. I suppose he was slagging us off.’

  ‘Not really. In fact he said you were an attractive woman.’

  ‘Coming from him, that’s an insult.’

  Ray plugged the kettle in and leaned against the counter, watching her as she turned fish fingers on the grill.

  ‘Helen, I have to ask you this, did Guy Halshaw ever come back after that day they did the search? I don’t mean officially, I mean, did he come back?’

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I think he did and I think he was making a nuisance of himself. That Frank objected.’

  She nodded slowly. ‘I’ve never seen Frank so mad. That bastard Halshaw, he was spreading rumours, saying I was giving it to him when Frank was away.’

  ‘Did Frank believe him?’

  ‘First off, then he saw sense. We’d neither of us ever even looked at anyone else since we got together. I know that might be hard to believe, but Frank was a good man.’

  She turned to face Ray, ‘He was all I ever needed and I know he wasn’t perfect. He’d got a past and so had I but we’d made a clean start with one another.’ She paused, turned back to her cooking but her shoulders were shaking now and Ray could see she was close to tears. ‘Then that bastard came on the scene with his “you know that you want me” line and he had power. That was the thing that scared me. He kept saying what he could do to Frank if I wasn’t good to him. He harassed Frank every chance he got.’

  ‘Helen, I’m sorry, I really am. What did you do? Did you make a complaint . . . ?’

  ‘Complaint! I tried that before, remember? When did any of your lot listen to complaints about one of your own?’

  ‘I’m listening now.’

  She fell silent. The kettle had boiled and Ray made tea for them both, warming the pot first and keeping his back to Helen while she recovered.

  ‘I’m pretty certain that Halshaw sent me that clipping,’ Ray said.

  ‘Figures, still trying to rubbish Frank even now he’s gone.’

  Ray shook his head. ‘There’s more to it than that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I was quite happy to leave well alone until that clipping arrived. Now, I’ve got to get to the bottom of it.’

  She looked thoughtful. ‘Would he know that?’ she said. ‘I mean, would he be certain you’d look into it?’

  ‘We didn’t know each other that well, but I suppose it’s a question of reputation. Guy was always a go-getter. If everyone else said there was nothing to investigate, he’d find something.’

  ‘Even if it meant planting the evidence?’

  ‘Even that apparently. Me, I was always a slow starter. Bit of a lazy bugger, but once I’d sunk my teeth in I didn’t let go.’

  ‘So he wanted you to look at Frank. Do you think Frank was murdered?’

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder,’ he said.

  Ray took two mugs from the drainer and she passed him the milk. It occurred to him that Helen would probably never have thought she could have this kind of conversation with a policeman; he was touched by the trust she was beginning to show in him.

  ‘The way I read it at first was that someone had turned vigilante,’ he said. ‘That Frank was in the frame for the attack on me and someone decided to take the law into their own hands. So I asked around but no one was connecting Frank to me. The official line is that he was a petty criminal who fell off the towpath because he was drunk and even the rumour mill tells me the same thing.’ He sighed, his mind working, nagging at the problem. ‘Helen, I want you to do something for me.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Make me a list of Frank’s contacts. Past and present. Anyone he talked about.’

  ‘I told you, Frank was clean, he’d been straight for years.’

  ‘I know what you told me, but look. You still move in the same circles, live in the same place. The only difference is that Frank learned some sense. I want to know about those that didn’t learn. People he worked with maybe at the nightclub. Any little thing he might have said that you didn’t connect at the time.’

  ‘Why do you want to know this? You’re not even a copper anymore. Not a proper one anyway.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m not quite finished yet. Helen, I happen to know that my erstwhile colleagues aren’t going to follow this up. I want to know who did this to me and who killed Frank.’

  He glanced around the tiny kitchen, the cheap furnishings and the laminated chipboard counters and the woman who could be pretty if she had not been so scarred inside. ‘I’ve no proof,’ he said. ‘And I might be wrong but my instincts are telling me I’m not. All of this.’ He gestured as she had done three days before. ‘You, the boy. It meant everything. I didn’t know him but I’m willing to believe that. Frank was scared of something, wasn’t he? He probably tried to keep it from you but almost certainly he let something slip.’

  She stared at him, this big ugly man, standing with her teapot cradled in his hands and she nodded because her throat had tightened and at first she couldn’t speak.

  ‘He was scared,’ she managed finally. ‘Wanted us to move but I wouldn’t unless he told me why. I didn’t want to pull up roots, not when we finally seemed to be getting somewhere. Ian’s old enough for me to get a bit of a job. Frank’s mam was going to have him in the holidays and Frank was going on that course, the doorman’s training thing, you know, and suddenly all he wanted to do was up and leave.’

  ‘The night he died?’

  ‘We’d had a row about it. We didn’t row, not Frank and me, but this time he’d gone storming off. Said he was going for a drink. I thought he’d cool down and when he got back we’d talk. But he never came back. I thought he’d only gone to the local pub, not all the way to bloody Middleton, it never entered my head to go looking for him there. I went to the police station just down the road and I reported him missing next day but it was three days — three fucking days — before they told me his body had been found.’

  She sat down at the table, her head in her hands. ‘I’ll make that list for you,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you everything Frank ever told me, but please, find out what happened to him. Whatever it was and whatever he did, I want to know.’

  Chapter Forty-two

  James Eton returned home the day after Kitty’s arrest. The village could speak of nothing else, but at first, Eton could not believe what he was hearing.

  ‘A witch?’ he asked Mim. ‘They
are saying that Mistress Hallam is a witch?’

  ‘Mistress Randall has accused her, sir. She spent all night railing and shouting until finally Master Randall ordered her given an infusion of poppy. She slept, finally, just before dawn, when Master Randall brought Hope back from the church. The poor lamb has been up all night, though her father says she should be allowed to rest today.’

  Eton was confused. ‘Hope?’ he asked. ‘What has the child to do with this?’

  ‘The mistress accused her too. Afterwards, when we all gathered to pray together. The master took her to the church to pray God would cleanse her soul.’

  Eton shook his head. ‘And is her father satisfied that God has done so? Or will she, too, be bound hand and foot and dragged off to the courts?’

  Tears filled Mim’s eyes. ‘Don’t say that, sir. Please, don’t even think it.’

  Eton patted her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t fret, Mim. I’ll follow on to Leicester, see what can be done. You take care of the child, I doubt any other will if her own mother could accuse her.’

  He stayed long enough to eat and have a fresh horse saddled for him, then James Eton left in pursuit of Kitty and Randall. The cart had left at dawn, but Eton on horseback would be faster and he calculated that he would be no more than an hour or two behind by the time they reached the town. He would find Matthew Jordan, go to the assizes and see what went on, and if an end could be put to this nonsense.

  Even as he made plans, James Eton’s heart sank. He remembered that day when Kitty had told him of her dreams and shuddered as he thought of what might happen if she were tricked or forced to confess such thoughts to others.

  He had heard of many accused of working for the devil. He had never heard of any being released or found innocent when matters had progressed this far.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Early on the Friday morning, Ray went back to talk to Superintendent Walters. Walters was surprised to see him, but made him welcome. ‘Have you thought any more about this retirement deal?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it, yes. I don’t think I’ll be coming back, there are other things I’d like to do with my life and I’m not getting any younger.’

  Walters smiled broadly and Ray knew that he had given him the right answer. ‘I’ll set things in motion,’ Walters told him. ‘I think you’ll find it’s for the best, Ray.’

  Ray nodded. ‘I’m sure I will,’ he said. ‘But that’s only part of what I came for. I went up to see Halshaw, asked him about that clipping?’

  ‘Oh?’ There was a wary note in Walters’ voice. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He didn’t admit to anything.’

  ‘Then presumably it wasn’t him. It’s hardly something you’d go to lengths to hide. It was only a news clipping after all.’

  ‘So why deny it if he did? And I’m sure he did. I’ve done some checking. The letter was forwarded to me from the hospital. Halshaw sent it care of them.’

  Walters frowned. ‘Ray, I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought you were retiring from all this. I don’t see what’s got you so fired up.’

  ‘Halshaw sent me that clipping because he knew I’d respond. He had dealings with Frank Jones.’

  ‘From what I heard he had more dealings with Frank Jones’s wife. Look, Ray, Jones fell in the canal and drowned. He’d drunk too much. End of story. It’s tragic, but it happens. And as for Halshaw, well, we know that things weren’t exactly friendly between them. Halshaw was after the man’s wife. Maybe he was just trying to stir things up.’

  ‘And why would he do that?’

  Walters sighed. ‘If you’ve seen him recently then you don’t need to ask. He’s lost it, Ray, completely unbalanced and drinking like a fish. He’s been that way since before he retired, took a lot of covering up, but he’d been a fine officer in his time and it seemed better for everyone just to let him slip off quietly. Kinder all round than making an issue.’

  Ray considered that and how it fitted, or not, with what George had told him. ‘Was there anything to connect Frank Jones to what happened to me?’ he asked.

  Walters shook his head. ‘You think he might have been looking for Guy Halshaw?’

  ‘That’s always been the assumption. I grant you, different reasons, but it’s not a new idea.’

  ‘I can’t tell you anything more than you already know. The investigation will go on until we’ve found who did this to you. But there’s never been any reason to suspect Frank Jones.’

  ‘Helen Jones thinks he was pushed,’ Ray told him.

  ‘On what evidence?’

  ‘None that would stand up in court. She says that Frank was being harassed by our lot. Not just Halshaw, he’d long gone by then, but others after Halshaw left. She thinks that Frank went to meet someone the night he died. Why trek all the way over to Middleton when his local was just down the road?’

  Walters’ face was expressionless and Ray wondered what buttons he’d pushed. He hoped Helen would forgive him for putting his theories out as hers.

  ‘Helen Jones is a troublemaker,’ Walters said. ‘If she had a complaint — a legitimate complaint — then she should have made it when her husband was still alive, not go mouthing off when it’s too late.’

  ‘She did make complaints, about Halshaw. They were never followed up.’

  ‘Is that what she told you? Fuck’s sake, Ray, you believe a little cow like that? OK, I know Halshaw’s reputation, but she encouraged him. And I suppose, who can blame her? Compare Halshaw to a loser like Frank Jones. But I don’t like this kind of talk, Ray. I think you’re forgetting which side your bread is buttered.’

  Ray looked thoughtfully at his erstwhile superior and then got up to leave. ‘I don’t think I ever forget that,’ he said.

  Chapter Forty-four

  ‘I cannot allow you to visit her. I’m truly sorry, Master Eton, sirs, but until their lordships have considered her case she is to receive no visitors.’

  ‘Sir, I have known this woman these last eight years. Never have I known anything but good to come from that association. I cannot believe now that any should see evil in it. And though I may almost, almost mind, understand that you must keep us out, this gentleman is her brother. Surely you cannot deny access to her kin.’

  ‘I follow orders, sir. Nothing more, and until those orders are modified, no one can be allowed to see the prisoner.’

  Beside the wall in the governors’ chambers stood a wooden bench and Matthew sat down upon it. He had not been well and the shock of this news had been very grave. Kitty’s brother turned to him in concern.

  ‘Are you all right? Is there something can be brought for you?’

  ‘Jonathan, I thank you, but I will be well enough. It is Katherine that concerns me, the rest is nothing.’

  Eton was still arguing with the governor, but to no avail. Until Kitty’s case had been heard, there could be no contact. Finally, they had to be content to hand over the food and wine and extra blankets they had brought for her and leave, hoping that their gifts might be delivered.

  ‘Have a mind, sir,’ Eton said. ‘Sir Henry Hastings is a friend of long standing and I will be appealing direct to him.’

  ‘And I will be glad to hear his words. If the high sheriff decrees that you might see the woman then so be it. Until then, gentlemen.’

  ‘What now?’ Jonathan Hallam wanted to know as they stood outside the courthouse.

  Eton shook his head. ‘I do as I have said I will and make my appeal.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Jonathan said. ‘Katherine, accused like this.’ He looked at Master Eton. ‘Sir, I have to ask this. I can stay here only a short time. Our father is ill and there is the business to run, my family to care for. While I am gone . . .’

  ‘Matthew and I will do all we can.’ He took the young man’s arm, half angry at the unspoken reasons Jonathan was so eager to depart, but respectful of them all the same.

  ‘I understand,’ he told him gently. ‘Matthew and I
have no family to taint with this business and I have friends powerful enough to keep me safe from harm. Kitty will understand that you must protect your own. Your wife and child and father and you may be assured, we will do everything we can.’

  * * *

  Randall had already departed. He had changed his horse at the inn and then ridden back, arriving close to evening. His wife, he was told, was still confined to her chamber, but she had consented to eat some of the broth that Mim had prepared for her.

  ‘And Hope?’ Randall asked.

  ‘She slept for a time, sir, then insisted on getting up. The rest of the day she has spent with Mim, helping in the kitchens. The child seemed happier with company and with something to occupy her mind.’

  Randall nodded his approval. Hope should not be left alone to brood. He was tired and hungry and his bones ached from the long ride, but there was still much to be done. He glanced outside. It was already dusk, but Randall felt that one more thing had to be completed before he could allow himself to rest.

  ‘I want everyone gathered on the green, an hour from now, and I want a fire built. Have my wife told that she must be there. Hope too. I would see this business finished.’

  * * *

  An hour later it was almost completely dark and the wind had grown chill after a warm day.

  The village watched as Randall had everything Kitty owned dragged from her house. Clothing, bedding, the brightly woven rugs. Even her books and the little stock of medicines she had begun to prepare, ready for the winter.

  The fire was burning well. Randall began to pile her belongings onto it, the flames roaring as he fed them. He tore the clothing and bedding into strips between his hands, as he had torn the Lammas dolly, casting them into the inferno as though he cast the evil back to the fires of hell, and, watching him, Hope knew that it was Kitty that he burned. Kitty that he imagined curling and twisting in the heat, devoured by the flames. She could hardly bear to look, but the memory of her mother’s accusations and her father’s genuine fear as they had spent that last night in prayer proved enough to keep her eyes fixed on the burning and on the shadow of her father, cast upon the wall of Kitty’s house as the flames seemed to dance around him.