The Honest and The Brave

by Rebecca King

  “That might be why the thief targeted it. The garden is secluded and there is a clear route in and out without being seen.” Luke stepped over the remnants of the plant pot and turned to study the room.

  “We need to speak to the vicar. I want to know if the church collection was kept here, and if it was stolen. I also want to know if any of the neighbours have seen anything unusual. We cannot just assume that nobody has seen anything,” Roger snapped.

  “Do you think it is wise to alert anybody to what’s happened? If we start asking if the neighbours have seen anything we will just alert everyone to the fact that the Warden has been burgled. When the locals realise the Warden is no longer around, even if the housekeeper doesn’t gossip about it, the locals will know something has gone wrong. If we don’t ask around we at least have a day or so before people panic. The villagers are on edge enough as it is.” As he talked, Dean wandered around to the back of the desk, but the chair was still neatly pushed beneath it.

  “He must have walked in on the thief while he was in here.” Roger scratched his head as he studied some of the papers on the floor.

  “Most homeowners would investigate if they heard a noise,” Joshua added.

  Roger nodded. “Especially if the church collection was in danger of being stolen.”

  “Given the amount of blood on the desk, it might be possible that the men continued to struggle once Mr Julian had been stabbed, and before he succumbed to his injuries and died.” Joshua edged around the corpse and ambled over to the window. It was still half-open, so he was able to poke his head outside and study the fresh footprints in the soil directly beneath the window.

  “Follow them, Joshua. See how far you can get with them. I want to know how long our target has been watching this house. There must be tracks in those woods if someone has been standing around in there for several hours. I also want to know which way the killer went when he left here. I want to know if he is local,” Roger ordered.

  “What are we going to do to catch him if we find him?” Luke asked. “Regardless of where he comes from, we must have some way of ensuring he is caught, preferably without confronting him in the middle of a burglary. We cannot have innocent homeowners caught up in the man’s arrest, especially if he is armed and prepared to kill.”

  “We have to set a trap,” Joshua warned. “I think the only way we can resolve this situation is to create ourselves an affluent fop who is not averse to flashing his wealth around. If we put someone in the village with money it might be enough of a lure that our burglar won’t be able to help himself. We could pretend that one of us is the relation of the now deceased Warden or someone else in the village who happens to need to go away for a while.”

  “We will have to pick the property of someone who doesn’t have a tendency to talk about what we are up to,” Roger warned.

  “I know someone who fits the bill, but I am not sure if he is going to be happy to leave his house for a while,” Hamish offered with a thoughtful frown.

  “Go and talk to him,” Roger ordered. “I don’t care if we have to put him into a hotel, get him to move out of his home for a few weeks. He is helping the War Office. Pay him well, and make sure he tells nobody what is going on.”

  “Mr Richardson is a little, er, reclusive. You would have to club him to get him to agree to stay in a hotel,” Hamish warned. “From what I gather, Mr Richardson has no relations, has never had any visitors in all the time he has lived in the village, and he never goes out. The only people he speaks to are two ladies who live next door to him. They are also inclined to keep themselves to themselves, and don’t bother him much. Mr Richardson’s house is in the perfect location because it is close enough to the main street to overlook most of the properties but is far enough away that we will be able to come and go without drawing suspicion from the already wary locals.”

  Dean grinned and slid a look at Joshua. “Mr Richardson’s house also has a line of trees out back that we can use for cover.”

  Joshua rolled his eyes and groaned.

  “Hamish, go and see what you can do. I hear that there is a nice property for sale over in Mickleton. Go and buy it and install Mr Richardson in there if you must. I don’t care what you do. Get that man to move out so we can move in. Joshua, you are now a wealthy fop. First, though, see what you can do to find our fiend.” Roger grinned when Joshua looked about to object to being given a disguise.

  “First I am a tracker, then I am a fop. I need to get out of here,” Joshua growled.

  “At least you are not going to have to be the new Warden and sit in church on Sundays,” Hamish offered.

  “I suppose I should be pleased for small mercies, eh?” Joshua drawled ruefully.

  “Peregrine, go and help him,” Roger ordered.

  “Me? I don’t have any idea what I am doing.” Regardless, Peregrine followed Joshua out of the room.

  Outside, Joshua turned his attention to the trail the murderer had left him to follow.

  “What do you need me to do?” Peregrine lifted his brows and waited.

  “Watch my back. I need to concentrate, but I don’t want anybody to creep up on me,” Joshua replied.

  “We are assuming that the killer uses a horse to get near to his target. He then approaches the house on foot,” Peregrine murmured when Joshua began to follow the trail.

  “It is a fool who leaves a horse unattended in a village like this. Not only might it get stolen but it might wander off and end up in someone’s garden. A riderless horse would draw attention,” Joshua murmured. “Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

  Before Joshua could move, a young lad raced around the corner of the house, his small face ashen, his thin chest sawing in and out as he struggled for breath. Peregrine and Joshua shared a wary look before they turned to the latest bearer of bad tidings.

  “Now what?” Peregrine breathed.

  “Sir. Sir. You have to come quick,” the boy panted. “Something terrible has happened.”

  “How did you know we are here, lad?” Peregrine asked.

  “The woman down the street, Mrs Danvers, told me.”

  “What’s happened?” Joshua lifted his brows at the boy.

  “Another burglary. There has been another burglary.”

  “There goes our secrecy,” Peregrine growled but only so Joshua could hear. He turned to the young boy who was jumping from foot to foot, clearly eager to lead them to the victim’s house. “Do the villagers know about Mr Julian’s burglary?”

  “I should say so, sir,” the boy snorted. “It’s all over the village. Mrs Colton told everyone on this street when she found him this morning. She screamed as if she was summoning the dead, she did. Gave everyone a right start.”

  “What about the latest victim? Who is it?”

  “It’s Mrs Dilleray. There’s a right commotion, sir. Doris said you had best come quick.”

  Peregrine opened his mouth to ask who Doris was only to watch a grim-faced Roger step out of the house followed by the rest of his colleagues from the Star Elite. Roger pointed a finger at Joshua.

  “You stay here.” A wealth of hidden meaning was in the pointed look Roger levelled on him. “Do what we agreed.”

  Joshua’s nodded solemnly and waited until he was alone in the garden with Peregrine before returning to the task at hand: following the killer. They had barely reached the end of the garden before Roger poked his head around the end of the property and whistled at them.

  Peregrine and Joshua paused and looked at him.

  “Meet us at the Smithy.”

  Peregrine cursed but nodded.

  “The Smithy?” Joshua whispered.

  “The second – third victim’s house,” Peregrine warned. “Unless I am much mistaken, it isn’t all that far away from here.”

  With a disgusted sigh and renewed determination, Joshua set to work.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The men made their way into the woods and turned to the left. They walked past the en
d of the gardens of three houses before coming to a stop at the back of a small outbuilding.

  “Let me guess, Mrs Dilleray’s house,” Joshua muttered in disgust.

  Peregrine nodded. “He left Mr Julian’s house and came straight here then.”

  “Seems like it.”

  Together, the men made their way to the house. Throwing a cautious look at Peregrine, Joshua stepped into a narrow hallway off which ran a small, rickety staircase on either side of which was a door. To the right was a small sitting room which was furnished with nothing more than a chair positioned before the fireplace, a dresser on opposite side of the room, and an old rocking chair in the corner beside the window. All the furniture was old, careworn, and of little value to anybody other than the owner. To the left of the stairs was a room which ran the length of the property and comprised of a sitting area and dining table directly beneath the window. This second room was equally as sparsely furnished but did contain the property’s occupant; a somewhat elderly woman who appeared as angry as she was upset.

  “I don’t have much,” the elderly woman cried. “Whoever would do this to me?”

  Nobody answered her as she continued her lament.

  “Did you see or hear anything?” Roger interrupted.

  “No. No. I woke up, came downstairs, and found the window had been forced open. My coins have gone. I kept everything I owned in a tin on the mantle. Only I knew what that tin contained. To anybody else, it was just a battered old tin. To me, it was everything I owned,” Mrs Dilleray moaned.

  Joshua listened but remained next to the door and didn’t speak. He hoped the woman was too pre-occupied with her wailing and weeping to notice he was there because he didn’t want her to remember him, not seeing as he had a part to play.

  “How much was taken?” Roger asked the woman quietly.

  She sniffled a little more before she sucked in a breath and pointed to an empty spot on the mantle. “About three pounds, four shillings and six pence.”

  Suddenly, there was a tap on the door.

  Joshua slid out of the room and yanked the door open.

  “There is another one,” Luke bit out.

  “Where?”

  “Across the village. A gentleman by the name of Mr Smitherson. He has been murdered."

  Joshua looked over his shoulder and met Roger’s gaze. He slid one finger slowly across his neck and nodded toward the door before disappearing after Luke. He knew Roger would reassure the lady before following. By the time he reached the path, Joshua found Peregrine right behind him as well.

  “This one has also been stabbed in the back,” Luke informed them both.

  “How many has he managed to get around in one night?” Peregrine growled.

  “This one may have been done first. The body is stiff. I think the killer may have gone to Mrs Asquith’s house, then called in on Mr Smitherson, stabbed him in the back, then went on to Mr Julian’s and stabbed him in the back before stealing another pouch of coins from Mrs Dilleray.”

  “And nobody has seen or heard a thing at any of the houses,” Joshua snorted. “How? How is that possible?”

  “Well, it is because nobody has seen anything,” Peregrine replied.

  “Who found him?”

  “The neighbour called in on him. Mrs Browning does his cleaning and found him dead on the floor.”

  “He had a vase on there but it has gone,” Mrs Browning reported when they arrived to question her. She pointed a gnarled finger at an empty spot on the mantle.

  “Have you looked for it? Might he have just relocated it?” Joshua asked as he studied the otherwise untouched room.

  Mrs Browning shook her head. “I can’t see why Mr Smitherson would want to move it now, dearie. That vase hasn’t moved in all the years I have been coming here. His wife put it there when she lived here. She died nigh on twenty years ago now and he hasn’t moved it since. Why, I can’t believe anybody would ever be so cruel as to do such a thing as steal it, really I can’t, but it isn’t there now.”

  Joshua closed his eyes and dug deep for his patience. He made his way over to the body and studied the handle of the weapon sticking out from the victim’s back.

  “It is different to the other knife,” Peregrine whispered. “I wonder if he is using ones already at the houses he burgles rather than carrying his own? The kitchen knife used on Julian was in the study. I doubt the burglar would rush to the kitchen, fetch a knife, and stab the homeowner if he was disturbed.”

  “Do you think the burglar made no attempt to keep quiet, and when the homeowner did appear, murdered his victims using their own knives?” Luke scowled at the callous planning behind such an event.

  “It seems likely because the kitchen is at the back of the house.” Joshua pointed to the room they could all see that contained a dresser and a kitchen table.

  “If he is planning to kill his victims, and using knives at the property, what link would the victims have to the killer? Why these people? Yes, they are all in the same area, except for Mrs Asquith.”

  “The killer has focused on three houses within walking distance of each other,” Luke whispered in deference to Mrs Browning. “We just don’t know why he chose to target these three houses.”

  “Two men and two women,” Joshua murmured. He shook his head because there didn’t seem to be any logic to why the killer would steal from two seemingly impoverished and elderly women while killing two seemingly innocuous gentlemen all in one night.

  Joshua looked at Mrs Browning. “Do you know if Mr Richardson kept a pouch of coins in the house?”

  “I don’t rightly know. I only came to cook for him occasionally and clean through. You know, beat the rugs and the like. It was more of a trade, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir. I used to do bits and bobs for him, and he used to give me vegetables on account of there being plenty in his garden that he couldn’t eat all by himself, sir. It was an arrangement that suited us fine.”

  “Do you know if Mr Smitherson had any connection with Mrs Asquith, Mrs Dilleray, and Mr Julian?”

  “Apart from the fact that they all come from the same village sir, no I don’t.”

  “Did they all go to church? Were they familiar with the Warden?”

  “Why, no, sir. Not many people are going to church now on account of all these burglaries. People don’t know who to trust, and don’t want to go out anymore on account of them not knowing what they will find when they get back.” Mrs Browning began to look fretful.

  Joshua sighed but decided not to press for more details just yet. The woman was watching them like a hawk and doing her best to listen to their conversation, undoubtedly so she could gossip about what they had said once they had gone.

  “I’ll see you home,” Luke offered.

  “What about locking up here and tidying and the like. Someone has to do something about Mr Smitherson now, don’t they?”

  “Leave that to us. We will make sure that the house is secured, and Mr Smitherson’s body is moved. We will also inform the family and notify the magistrate. For now, you need to go home and get some rest.” Luke guided the woman out of the house and closed the door firmly behind them before the woman could find any more excuses to stay.

  Once she had gone, Joshua and Peregrine covered the corpse, searched the kitchen for more of the same type of knife, and scoured the property for valuables. When they had done, they secured the window before locking the door.

  “I’ll get the team to move him,” Peregrine muttered.

  “We need to see where the trail goes,” Joshua replied. “Let’s go and find out, shall we?”

  It wasn’t really a question. Joshua was already heading toward the trees at the end of the garden. It was a relief to get out of the dire atmosphere in the house, not least because he needed some fresh air and peace to think.

  “Do you think you might be able to follow the blackguard?”

  “Let’s see, shall we?”

  Joshua suspected he knew already what t
he thief had done. It was what he had done every time he had raided innocent people’s houses. He had ridden into the area, left his horse hidden in the trees, walked to his victim’s property on foot, helped himself to the contents of the property by climbing in through a window, always a window, before retracing his steps. He always chose houses which were largely occupied by people who lived alone. Moreover, the thief made no attempt to remove his footprints as he left, but always managed to disappear as soon as he returned to his horse.

  Peregrine watched Joshua work and shook his head in disbelief at his colleague’s skills.

  Joshua was one of the calmest, most matter-of-fact men Peregrine had ever met. He was always thinking, and only spoke when he had something to say. Otherwise, he listened and watched other people’s conversations with a lazy curiosity that was unnerving not least because Peregrine knew Joshua not only sized up whoever he was listening to but learnt a lot about them by not just what they said, but how they said it.

  “Off you go then,” Peregrine teased. “Go and find him.”

  Joshua smirked. “Well someone has to find him seeing as you don’t seem able to find your own backside in the dark.”

  Peregrine snorted.

  Joshua turned his attention to the footprints and began to follow the trail across the garden. To anybody else, all that could be seen was grass with the occasional smudge of dirt. But Joshua was able to see faint indentations in the grass which stood out at intervals and were identical in shape to the boot prints beneath the windows.

  “How do you do it?” Peregrine turned to look at the lawn behind Mrs Asquith’s house in astonishment.

  Joshua sighed. “Practice. Look, I will show you.”

  Peregrine stepped closer.

  “At first glance these trees look to be undisturbed.”

  “Well, yes. It is most probable that nobody ever comes in here.”