‘What would Connie know about that?’
‘I have reason to believe she might know something about a locket that was found with the woman.’
They heard hoofbeats outside and, through the kitchen window, they saw Connie ride into the yard and dismount. Jacob met her and took Star into the stable while Connie walked into the house.
‘Connie, we have a visitor. Robert would like to ask you about something.’
‘Oh, what is it?’ she asked, as she removed her hat.
He took the locket from his pocket and placed it on the table. ‘Have you seen this before?’
She walked over and picked it up. After a quick examination, she said, ‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘Sir Thomas gave it to Henry around the time he proposed to you because if you had married Henry your initials would have been CF.’
Connie looked at him blankly.
‘So, he didn’t give it to you, then?’ the constable asked.
‘I’ve already said that I’ve never seen it before. I turned down his proposal so he’s hardly likely to have given me a gift, is he? Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to change my clothes.’
Connie left the room and the men heard her climbing the stairs.
‘Well, that’s that then. I’d better get back.’ The policeman got up and made for the door.
It concerned Robert that he didn’t know how Kate had got hold of the locket between being released from Durham gaol and being killed in Weardale. Where did she go? Who did she meet? As he walked home, he decided that his next visit should be to the prison.
So the following day, Robert took the train from Stanhope to Durham. He walked to the gaol and went into the office. A large man with ruddy cheeks and a friendly smile sat at the desk.
‘Hello, I’m Robert Emerson, the constable from Westgate, up in Weardale.’
‘Good day, Constable. I’m Jim Stoker.’ He held out his hand and Robert shook it. ‘May I ask why you’re here?’
‘I’ve come to ask about a girl that was released last year. Kate Featherstone. She was in for theft.’
‘Featherstone. Yes, I remember. A pretty thing. Blonde hair. Said she was innocent, but don’t they all?’ He laughed. ‘Has she been in trouble again?’
‘You could say that. She was murdered, probably just after she got out.’
‘Sorry to hear that. So, what can I do for you?’
‘Well, I was wondering if she had any visitors while she was here or if she got any letters from anyone. Is there anything you can remember that might help me find out who killed her?’
‘Letters. Yes, she got a few letters. Not many of them do ‘cos most of them can’t read. She had some from her mother, one from a vicar and then there was a fella came and left a parcel for her — for us to give to her when she got out.’
‘Did you check the parcel? Do you know what was in it?’
‘It’s not my place to. Once prisoners are released, we don’t have any say over what they can and can’t have. They’re free to do what they want once they’re out, but saying that, I did have a sneaky peek.’
‘What was in it?’
‘There was a letter and — you’ll never believe this — a gold locket!’
Well, well. So that’s how she got it, thought Robert.
‘Did you read the letter?’ he asked.
‘Aye, of course I did. It was from her fella wanting to meet up with her when she got out. Said something like the locket was a token of his love. Asked her to meet him somewhere up in Weardale. Very romantic.’
‘Do you remember who sent it? Was it signed?’
‘No, there was no name on it. She seemed to know who it was from though. She must have been the only lass in here with just the one lad on the go!’ He laughed.
‘Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.’
On the long journey back to Weardale Robert thought about what Mr Stoker had said. He concluded that the person who wrote the letter and arranged to meet her was very likely to be the murderer. So, he thought, who had she been involved with and how did they get hold of the locket?
Chapter 27
Moorside Cottage, Westgate
December 1873
As Mary waited for Tom to return from work, she thought about how well the three of them had fit together as a family. Tom was kind and considerate to her and he liked to entertain Josie while Mary cooked and cleaned. Josie adored her new father and she held out her arms to be picked up by him whenever he was at home. They laughed loudly together as they pulled faces and made noises at each other. Josie’s favourite at the moment was sticking out her tongue.
Mary had fallen in love with the cottage and the garden. Being on the hillside, it had wonderful views of the dale’s landscape, and it was only a twenty-minute walk into the village to visit the shop and Library House — much more convenient than anywhere else she had lived. Mary found the domestic work easy compared to what she was used to. The house was small, just two rooms upstairs and two downstairs, and there wasn’t much food to prepare, so she found that she had plenty of time to spend with her family. It was only a month since they had moved in but already it felt like a home.
She went to get a clean tablecloth from the drawer in the kitchen table. When she opened it she saw two tiny mice staring wide-eyed at her in surprise, then they suddenly jumped out and scarpered. She couldn’t believe that they had been hiding in there all that time.
Ever since they had moved in, she had been looking for a mouse nest or a hole where they had been getting into the kitchen. The pests had been nibbling on any food left uncovered and they left little black droppings everywhere. Occasionally, she had seen them running across the floor, but she didn’t see where they went, and the trap in the pantry had remained empty.
As soon as Tom came home, she said, ‘Tom, I found the mice!’
‘Where were they?’
‘You know the drawers in the table?’
Tom burst out laughing. ‘We never thought to look in there.’
‘They made a nest out of one of my tablecloths,’ Mary said, looking affronted. ‘It’s ruined.’
‘Never mind the cloth, we can get another one. Cheer up, at least the mice won’t bother you again, not after the fright you must have given them!’
Reluctantly, Mary smiled at him.
‘I’ve got some good news as well. You know it’s a long walk to and from work at the moment — it’s over an hour each way. Well, just after I rented this house, I asked the manager about getting a transfer to a mine closer to home. Today he said that I can start at Low Rigg on Monday. It’s only about quarter of an hour walk away, so I’ll have much more time to spend with you and Josie.’
‘That’s great. Who will you be working with?’
‘Lads I’ve known for years — Watson Heslop, who was my best man, and his partners Harry and John from Westgate. There was an older bloke working with them, but he’s had to pack it in because of his health — his breathing’s bad.’
Mary served out the beef stew she had made for tea and they sat down at the table to eat.
‘If you fancy a walk on Sunday, I’d like to show you where the mine is.’
‘Yes, that would be nice.’
On Sunday morning, they set off after breakfast. Tom carried Josie in one strong arm and reached for Mary’s hand with the other.
‘Low Rigg is one of many workings that cuts into Rigg Vein,’ he explained as they walked down the hill. ‘In its day, it used to be one of the best mines in the dale but there’s not many men working there now. The bosses say that the cost of production has increased almost to the point that it’s not worth getting the ore out anymore, but they haven’t given up on it altogether. They set a couple of partnerships on at the last bargains to explore working the vein at depth. If there’s more ore further down, it might still be worth keeping it open. What me and the lads will be doing is blasting a cross-cut through to
the vein that’s about twelve yards beyond it. That vein’s been worked from the surface before, years ago, but it’s never been mined underground.’
‘So, you’ll be the first to see it?’ asked Mary.
‘At that depth, yes. It’s quite exciting really. You can predict what minerals and ores should be there, but sometimes you get a surprise.’
‘My father said there was silver in the mines. Is that true?’
‘There’s a little bit, but it’s mixed in with the lead ore. They take it out at the smelting mill over at Rookhope.’
‘Is there any gold?’
‘No, there’s not been any gold found in Weardale. Have you seen fool’s gold?’
‘Yes, me and Annie used to find it when we were looking for bonny bits on the spoil heaps.’
‘Underground, in candlelight, it can look like the real thing,’ said Tom. ‘The older miners like to tease the new lads and quite a few of them have been fooled into thinking they’d found real gold!’
Mary and Tom laughed.
Next to the Middlehope Burn, they walked towards a hole in the ground that was protected on three sides by wooden railings. Mary looked down the vertical shaft.
Tom said, ‘This is the way in. It’s 30 fathoms down to the level — that’s 180 feet. You’d be surprised how long it’ll take us to climb up all them ladders at the end of a shift!’
Mary could see that he was happy with his new job — both the work he would be doing and the men that he would be working with, and she was glad for him. She was pleased that he would have more time to spend with her and Josie too.
Mary realised she was standing with her hand on her lower tummy and quickly removed it. She suspected that she was pregnant, but she thought it best not to say anything for a while because she might be wrong, and babies were sometimes lost in the first few weeks. She wasn’t suffering from sickness like she had when she was pregnant with Josie, so her condition was easy to hide from Tom. It would be Christmas soon and, as she didn’t have much to give to him, just a hat and a scarf that she had knitted for him, she decided that she would tell Tom on Christmas Day.
Chapter 28
Westgate Village
December 1873
Robert Emerson asked the villagers about Kate and whether they knew who she had been courting in the weeks leading up to her trial. Most just shook their heads and said they hadn’t seen her with anyone.
He went to Burnside Hall and asked both the family and the staff if they had seen her with anybody. One of the kitchen maids said she thought Kate had met a lad a couple of times, but she didn’t know who he was.
Henry Forster had returned from Newcastle, so Robert asked him if he could speak with him alone. They went into the drawing room and sat in chairs at opposite sides of the fireplace, where a wood fire burned brightly in the grate.
‘Mr Forster, I understand your father gave you a locket that belonged to your grandmother. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, he did.’
‘And he suggested that you should give it to Connie Peart?’
‘Yes, that’s right. The locket was engraved with my grandmother’s initials. If we had married, Connie’s initials would have been the same as my grandmother’s.’
‘Did you give it to Connie Peart?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Then what did you do with it?’
‘I pawned it in Durham.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘For money, what else?’ Henry laughed. ‘It was no use to anyone else with those initials engraved on it. The gold was worth something and I wanted the money for it.’
Robert disapproved of what Henry had done, selling a family heirloom, but his story sounded credible. He knew Henry had expensive pastimes — drinking, gambling and whoring — and that he had been in many scrapes over the years. Sir Thomas had called on Robert to appease the local constabularies more times than he cared to remember.
He tried to work out how the locket could have reached Kate. Perhaps it was displayed in a pawn shop window in Durham and Kate’s lad had seen it. Realising the initials were the same as Kate’s, he could have bought it for her as a love token. An expensive gift, but people did strange things when they were in love. But, he wondered, if this lad had loved her, why would he have killed her? Jealousy — had she been with another fella? Spurned — did she not return his love? Anger — had she refused his advances?
As Henry walked him to the door, he said, ‘By the way, you wanted to know if that servant girl was seeing someone. You should talk to the Milburns.’
‘Thank you for your time,’ Robert inclined his head to him and walked down the drive. He left Burnside Hall with more questions than answers.
On his way home, Robert called into Mr Graham’s shop for a bottle of whisky.
‘Good afternoon. I hear tell you’ve been asking about the Featherstone lass, wanting to know who it was she was seeing.’
Robert kicked himself. He should have come to see Mr Graham first. As the old man spent most of his time in the village shop, gossiping to all of his customers, he knew most folks’ business. He liked to gossip as much as anyone.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Robert replied. ‘Do you happen to know who had an interest in her?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
Mr Graham leaned over the counter towards the policeman and, although there was nobody else in the shop, he whispered, ‘She came in here with a lad one day, not long afore she was sent to gaol. It was Tom Milburn.’ He raised his eyebrows and waited for a response.
‘Thank you, Mr Graham.’
Robert left without his bottle. That was two people who had connected the Milburns with Kate Featherstone. He would have to go and talk to the brothers.
Joe was in the yard cleaning off his boots when Robert arrived at Springbank Farm. Tip ran up to greet him and sat by his legs. He reached down and stroked the dog’s head.
‘Afternoon, Joe. Sorry to bother you again, but could I have a word?’
‘Hello, Robert. I’m afraid Connie’s not in. She’s out riding again.’
‘It’s you I need to talk to this time.’
‘You’d better come in then.’
When they were seated in the farmhouse kitchen, Robert said, ‘Well, I know this might be a bit delicate with you being married now, but I have to ask.’
Joe looked puzzled. ‘Go on.’
‘Did you know Kate Featherstone?’
‘By sight, aye. She was a bonny lass.’
‘Did you have any interest in her? Did you ever meet up with her?’
‘No, I didn’t know her really. Don’t think we ever spoke other than a ‘hello’ when we passed in the village.’
‘You’re sure about that? This is very important.’
‘Aye, I’m sure. Just what are you getting at?’
‘Sorry Joe, no offence, just doing my job.’
The constable stood up and shook Joe’s hand. ‘Well, I’ll be off.’ He walked briskly out of the house and took the path that led across the fields to Moorside Cottage.
About fifteen minutes later, Robert knocked at Tom’s door. Mary opened it and smiled brightly at him. ‘Hello, Mr Emerson.’
‘Hello, Mary. Is Tom in?’
‘He’s not back from work yet. He shouldn’t be long if you’d like to come in and wait for him?’
‘No, thank you. It’s alright. I heard he’s started at Low Rigg. Does he walk back this way?’ he asked, pointing towards a stile leading into the field in front of the house.
‘Yes, he does.’
‘I’ll walk down and meet him. Thank you, Mary. It’s nice to see you again. I must say you’re looking well — marriage must suit you!’ He smiled and went to the stile. She watched him climb over and wave from the other side. She waved back and went indoors, wondering what Robert wanted with Tom.
As the constable went down the slope, he saw Tom walking towards him. Robert could tell that Tom was feeling uneasy.
‘Yes, what’s wrong? Is Mary alright?’
‘Yes, she’s fine.’
‘I was worried there when I saw you walking down from the cottage.’
‘There’s something I need to ask you. You understand I’m just doing my job, don’t you? I have to follow up every lead.’
‘Aye, of course.’
‘Kate Featherstone, did you know her?’
Tom sighed. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘Were you and her...friends?’
‘Aye, I suppose you could say that. I liked her and one day I plucked up the courage to ask her if I could walk her home from work.’
‘And did you walk her home?’
Tom nodded. ‘I met her by the gate at Burnside Hall and walked her back up to The Moss.’
The Lead Miner's Daughter Page 17