by Anna Jacobs
‘Would you? You saved him getting caught last year and even he was grateful once he’d recovered from the drubbing you gave him.’
‘He deserved a pummelling, hitting you like that. You wouldn’t know when he’s planning to do whatever it is this time, would you?’
‘Must be Monday night. He’s told me to stay home then and not go gossiping next door. I’ve not to let anyone into the house an’ to keep the curtains drawn. I expect he’ll want to claim he was at home all evening if things go wrong. I live in fear of being sent to jail myself for lying under oath, and then what would happen to the children? I wish he’d drop dead, I do indeed. I could live with Mum and Dad and manage better on my own.’
Piper slipped her a sixpence and two threepenny bits. ‘Let me know if he changes the day he’s doing whatever it is or I’ll not be able to keep watch on him.’
‘Thanks, Piper. I will. I’m that grateful to you.’ She tried to summon up a smile and failed, so walked away.
He stayed in the gateway watching her go till she was out of sight. How old she looked these days, yet she was the same age as his own wife. If he could help lock that sod up in jail along with his brute of a master, he’d be a happy man.
It had made his stomach churn angrily seeing the big bruise on his cousin’s face today. Lallie had been such a pretty lass once.
In the large, comfortable house in Birch End, the clocks seemed to be ticking more loudly than usual for the rest of that weekend – or at least, so it seemed to Gertrude. The hours passed so slowly, there were times when she could have screamed.
After her husband came home from his office on Saturday, she watched him covertly, acting meekly, seeing how he enjoyed this. She kept wondering exactly what he was intending to do on Monday night. Some poor woman would suffer for what he called pleasure, she was sure.
On the Sunday, he retreated to his smoking room and refused to go to church.
When she and Edna got back from the morning service, he was still there, so they sat in her little sitting room instead of the best parlour. As usual, Edna wittered on about nothing. His cousin seemed to get more foolish by the day. But at least that saved Gertrude the trouble of finding something to talk about.
‘Cousin Clarence’s mood seems to have improved,’ Edna said suddenly. ‘I overheard him talking to a man who came to the side door yesterday quite late in the evening and he sounded pleased. You can hear a lot if my bedroom window is open.’
Improved, Gertrude thought. I don’t think so. It took only a little prompting to obtain more information from her foolish companion. ‘What was he pleased about?’
‘He seems to be planning a surprise for someone called Tess and the man who came is involved. Who is she? We don’t know anyone called Tess, do we?’
She knew who this Tess was, but didn’t intend to admit that. ‘No. I think it’s, um, the wife of one of his business acquaintances, a man he wants to keep happy. Don’t say anything. Clarence hates to think anyone has overheard him and he’ll get very angry with you, even though it’s his own fault for having such a loud voice.’ She was wondering whether he was starting to go deaf, and serve him right if he did.
Edna shuddered. ‘Oh no, I won’t, not now that you’ve warned me.’
‘Good. This surprise – did you hear when it’s supposed to be happening?’
‘Tomorrow night, I think. But I believe someone’s coming to see him tonight to go through the final details.’
‘Then we’ll go to bed early and leave him to it. That’s always the best way to deal with him.’ So the outing he’d told to her was about to be confirmed, was it?
Now she had to prepare for going into town alone. ‘By the way, I have to see my dressmaker for a fitting tomorrow. I won’t take you with me because I want to visit a former servant afterwards and their house is very tiny.’
‘I could walk round the town centre while you were visiting them.’
‘I don’t know how long I’ll be. And their house is on the way home, so I’d have to come back to get you. Best if you stay here this time.’
Gertrude went on with the rest of her day, hoping she looked as calm as usual. She’d certainly had years of practice at concealing her feelings.
Could she do it tomorrow, betray her husband? That might make her a social pariah. She fingered the scarf hiding the bruises on her throat. Yes, she could. She couldn’t take any more from him, had to find a way to change things permanently. Oh, how she longed to live in a happy, peaceful home! Even if other ladies shunned her, she would be better off.
Clarence acted as if he were a king here! But she knew he was hurting innocent women and children whenever he went out, which seemed to give him a terrible sort of pleasure. She’d felt helpless to prevent that. He was more like the devil than a king, she always thought.
She studied her companion. Edna’s presence seemed to annoy Clarence at times and yet he hadn’t allowed his wife to arrange to find a house for his cousin to rent because he was wallowing in Edna’s open adoration of him. What the silly woman needed was another husband to fuss over. Some women weren’t capable of living lives of their own.
Gertrude was beginning to worry that if Edna didn’t find someone, Clarence might make her his mistress and insist on keeping her living with them. She didn’t think she could put up with that. Everyone had their sticking point, didn’t they?
Was anything beyond him? She knew he’d been visiting that whore who’d been killed recently and she suspected he’d had something to do with that. She’d seen him come back towards the house on foot late that particular night, puffing and panting as if he’d been running, looking worried – more than worried, afraid. She’d never seen that look on his face before.
His clothes had had blood on them and he’d told the maid to burn them. But Gertrude’s maid had told her about that and she’d told her maid it’d be wasteful. Far better to put them in the poor box instead, and she’d do that herself. If the master asked, they should just tell him the clothes had been disposed of.
She hadn’t given them away, though. She’d hidden them in an old trunk in the attic. Evidence that he’d been involved in the whore’s death, that was.
She was hoping Deemer would be able to use it and that it would help free her from her brute of a husband.
On the Sunday evening, once Edna had obediently gone to bed early, Gertrude crept into the empty bedroom next to Edna’s and, like it, above Clarence’s so-called smoking room. No one was supposed to know that people visited him there. He seemed to think that the other occupants of the house were all blind.
She waited, sitting by the partly open window in the darkness. She was just starting to think Edna must have been mistaken about someone coming to see Clarence tonight when a shadowy figure slipped across the garden to tap softly on the door below her.
She leaned forward and was able to hear some of the conversation between this person and her husband because it was a warm night. Clarence must feel very secure to leave his windows and door open like this. But he didn’t realise how loudly he always spoke.
‘It’s all arranged, sir. Tomorrow night we’ll raid that car sales place. Three of us should be enough, even if there’s someone guarding the woman. If it’s the same girl you’re after, we’ll snatch her. After all, there’s only one man living there.’
Gertrude felt sick with disgust as she listened. Was he planning to kidnap another young girl and ravish her? He’d done it once before that she knew of, and he’d had that horrible gloating look on his face then, too. Usually he went with willing older women but some nastiness inside him made him do strange things, like nearly strangle her. He had a dangerous streak in him.
He hadn’t had the house just outside Backshaw Moss then. He’d bought it afterwards and used it from time to time. She’d gone for a walk once when he was away on business and had a look at it. There were no close neighbours. Heaven help an unwilling woman trapped out there.
He seemed to think no
one knew about it or when he went there. But she did. She had become good at eavesdropping, in sheer self-preservation. And some of his men must know too. Blind arrogance, that. A weak point, she hoped, that would one day trap him.
There had been a big fuss and hunt for the first girl he’d kidnapped and her parents had not stopped searching for her. It had been a month before she’d been found wandering on the moors, half out of her mind with terror.
According to the local newspaper she’d been kidnapped by tinkers and was frightened but unhurt apart from a few bruises. She and her family had left the valley the next day, however, and had never been heard of again.
All Clarence’s doing, she was sure. He must have paid that family off. But he hadn’t killed that girl, had he? Someone had killed the whore, though. Was it him? Or another man?
It was definitely time to go and see Sergeant Deemer and confide all her worries in him, ask him what to do with the bloodstained clothes. She knew from the way Deemer looked at her husband that he didn’t like Clarence, to put it mildly.
Gertrude sat there in the darkness for a long time after the man left. Did she have the courage to act?
Yes. This time she did. She couldn’t live any longer with the burden of knowing what her husband was doing.
If this didn’t get rid of him for good, she’d flee. She had enough money of her own to live simply in some remote place. Anywhere would be better than living with him.
On the Monday morning, Gertrude went out to see her dressmaker, then took another route home, hurrying along back laneways, where she hoped not to meet anyone she knew.
She had told Edna she was visiting a former servant, but in fact she went to the back door of Sergeant Deemer’s house. She was about to knock when she heard someone approaching in the laneway, so let herself in. Bad enough if someone had seen her in a laneway and told Clarence; life-threatening if he heard she’d gone into the police station.
Inside the hall, she leaned against the wall, trembling. Mrs Deemer came out of the back room, staring at her in shock.
‘I’m sorry to just walk in. I have to see your husband, and I didn’t want anyone to notice me coming in here. It’s very important but has to be kept secret.’
Mrs Deemer nodded and patted her arm, speaking soothingly, as if to a child, ‘Come into my sitting room, Mrs Rathley. I’ll fetch him to you then no one will see you talking to him.’
The sergeant came in, unable to hide his surprise. But what she told him brought an expression of intense satisfaction to his face. ‘Aaah! You’ve done the right thing, Mrs Rathley. I don’t know exactly what he’s planning, but if I’m sure it’s for tonight, I can have watchers placed here and there. Do you know about the cottage he uses sometimes for his pleasures?’
‘Of course I do. And it’ll be there that he takes whichever poor woman he’s decided to use.’
‘Your information adds more pieces to the jigsaw puzzle I’m putting together.’
‘There’s more. He told the maid to burn the trousers and waistcoat he was wearing on the night that woman was killed. They had blood on them, you see. I told her I’d give them to charity, but I hid them in the attic instead. Any of the servants will recognise them as his if you need to identify him as being involved. Will they be of any use to you?’
That brought another ‘Aaah!’ after which he looked at her very solemnly. ‘Very useful. What I don’t understand, though, is why you’re betraying him now, if you’ve been unhappy for a good while.’
For answer she uncovered her neck and showed him the bruises. ‘This isn’t the first time, but I hope it’ll be the last. It was worse than before. I thought he was going to kill me. I couldn’t breathe for a few moments, was near to passing out.’
He closed his eyes for a minute, looking upset. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to face that, my dear lady.’
She couldn’t prevent her voice from wobbling. ‘Years I’ve had of it, but never this bad before. Mostly he ignores me. I’m sure it’s only the existence of my family nearby that has kept me alive. I told him once I’d given them a letter, in case anything happened to me. If I hadn’t done that, I’m sure he’d have killed me by now and found a younger, more co-operative wife.’
‘You’ll testify against him in court, if necessary?’
‘With the greatest satisfaction.’ She glanced towards a clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I can’t be away for too long. Is there anything else you need to know?’
‘You’ve no idea exactly what he’s planning?’
‘Not more than I’ve told you already.’
‘Thank you for doing this. Can you get home safely?’
‘I’d be grateful if you’ll look out and tell me when the way is clear for me to leave here the back way without being noticed.’
Gertrude got into town without meeting anyone she knew and went into the chemist’s. There she asked for something to help take away a bruise. She didn’t show him her neck, but wanted an excuse for being out on her own for so long, so also bought some lotion for the hands, for Edna as well as for herself.
Then she braced herself and went back home, fear juddering in her belly as she walked through the front door.
But though he was in the house, not at his office, Clarence didn’t seem to notice that she’d been out nor did he come near her. She heard him pacing to and fro in his smoking room. Like a rat in a cage, she thought.
He had his lunch taken in to him, saying he had paperwork to attend to, and ordered that his dinner be taken there as well. Thank goodness. She didn’t want to see him, was still nervous about what she’d done.
Edna noticed her agitation, however, so Gertrude told her she had a sick headache and had visited the chemist for help, which was how she’d found the lotion as well. That distracted Edna, as expected.
‘That was so kind of you to buy it for me, Gertrude.’
‘Don’t say anything to Clarence. You know how bored men get about such things and how they resent us spending money on cosmetics. But we women have to look after ourselves, don’t we?’
‘Oh, yes. Douglas was just the same, didn’t realise how much effort it takes for a lady if she wants to present a good appearance.’
‘You’re right. I think I’ll lie down and rest for a while, if you don’t mind. It’s the only thing to do when my head is like this. Next week I’ll start introducing you to families with single gentlemen or widowers in them.’ She winked.
Edna beamed at her.
Gertrude spent the afternoon in bed and it seemed to go on for ever, so she joined Edna for the evening meal.
The evening dragged past just as slowly, but eventually it was time to go to bed and she went into her room, locking the door after her maid left her in utter relief at having got through the day.
As she lay sleepless on her bed, she prayed this had been her last day of living with him.
That was in the hands of fate now. And Sergeant Deemer.
30
R athley had sent men to look for the girl in every possible place in Birch End and Rivenshaw, and had come to the conclusion that the men who claimed to have seen her at the car yard must have been right. He hadn’t believed them because he knew from chatting to a young town hall clerk he was cultivating that Jo Melling was staying there. He’d thought they must have mistaken her for Tess.
But where else could Tess be? Perhaps both young women were staying there.
Jo was another person on his list. That insolent young woman would learn what it cost to defy him. Oh, yes. It was something to look forward to, but that was for another time.
In the end, he decided to send three men he’d employed previously on delicate matters to see whether the girl really was at the car sales yard, with Hobbs in charge. If they found her, they had orders to use whatever force was necessary to capture her, but were not to seriously hurt anyone. If they didn’t find her, they were to capture Jo instead. He’d keep her in his house outside Backshaw Moss for a while, chained up. He smiled
. He’d enjoy seeing her so helpless. Then he’d get rid of her when he tired of her.
He had to have a younger woman. It had been too long. No one in this town would dare accuse him of anything, he was too important. And anyway, Gertrude would say he’d been with her. He’d make sure of that.
He reminded Hobbs that they mustn’t let their faces show or say who they were working for. Really, he’d rather not have had to send them to a place in the town centre, where there might be nosy parkers looking out of windows nearby or taking a shortcut down the back laneway.
If they went there late in the evening, but before the pubs closed, they ought not to meet anyone in the laneway behind the house. He hoped it was Tess they found. She was younger.
He pictured her and smiled. So soft and ripe for the plucking. He might even keep her as a mistress if she learned to please him, because she didn’t have a mother to interfere now. Moira’s death had been a lucky accident for him, really, and all her own fault.
And though people talked about that whore being murdered, he knew he was innocent, so he didn’t feel at all guilty about having been present when she’d had her accident. No one would ever know about that, of course, because the clothes he’d been wearing that night had been burned and his wife knew nothing at all about any of it.
He told Hobbs to take the girl to his cottage near Backshaw Moss and to go there and get it ready for occupation first, with some simple food and tea-making materials.
Once they’d captured her, one of them was to come to his home and fetch him. It was close enough to walk to the cottage, if he took the short cut along the public right of way. He’d bought the cottage partly for that reason and partly for the way it was hidden by the slope and some trees, and out of earshot of the nearest houses. He’d put up big No Trespassing signs and there were already high fences.
He supplied the men with something to prevent her struggling. Always the best way. He didn’t want her to struggle because they might mark or hurt her.