The Ghosts of Ardenthwaite (The Northminster Mysteries Book 5)

by Harriet Smart

  “Lord knows what Parham was mixed up in to come to such a end,” Felix said. “You said you had a scrap of gossip about him?”

  Major Vernon nodded, and said, “I think he may have been up to his ears in debt.”

  “Which would explain him wanting to break the lease,” Felix said.

  “Yes, and in debt to some dangerous people. He had bad habits – he liked expensive whores and gambling, for certain. I think we can place him in Bickley’s establishment in some way or other.”

  “So you think Bickley is behind all this?”

  “The miraculous repentant Bickley, yes, perhaps. He seems a very likely candidate to me for this kind of organised mayhem, but I don’t have even a speck of proof. Just my intuitions which may be quite wrong. And after all, if Parham was in debt to Bickley, why murder a man who owes you money? It makes no sense.”

  “Life insurance?” Felix said. “Could that work?”

  “We shall have to go and talk to his widow in Swalecliffe,” said Major Vernon.

  They were interrupted by the sound of a carriage arriving.

  “That was very prompt work by Holt,” said Major Vernon, as they hurried downstairs.

  They came out of the house to see Lord Rothborough’s travelling carriage drawing up.

  “This is a pleasure!” said Lord Rothborough, handing Lady Maria out of the carriage. “We thought we would call on the Colonel on our way back to Holbroke and unsettle him with an invitation for dinner.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s rather late for that,” said Major Vernon. “Colonel Parham is dead. Forgive my bluntness, Lady Maria.”

  “Good grief,” said Lord Rothborough.

  “How terrible,” said Lady Maria. “How? Was he ill?”

  “No, that’s the worst of it,” said Felix. “He’s been murdered.”

  Lady Maria gave a little gasp and turned away to disguise her shock. Lord Rothborough reached out and took her hand.

  “Poor soul,” he said after a moment. “And to have such a thing happen here. Dear Lord! However, we will leave you to your business, and console ourselves with the knowledge that justice will be served, and promptly, if you are involved.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Maria, moving back towards the carriage. “That is something, I think.”

  Lord Rothborough settled her in the carriage, and then, before he himself climbed in, said, “If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to ask, will you?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is something,” said Major Vernon. “Might you take charge of the Colonel’s pointers? They have been left to starve.”

  “Oh no, surely not!” exclaimed Lady Maria. “That is dreadful. Yes, yes, of course.”

  Major Vernon went into the house and brought out Hector and Hero who were then put in the carriage and instantly lavished with attention from Lady Maria.

  “I wish I had his confidence in a speedy resolution,” Major Vernon said to Felix as the carriage drove away. “I have an unpleasant feeling that the path ahead of us is a stony one. These people –” He sighed. “Well, at least we know our best witnesses are in good hands.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Giles returned to the little house in Parker’s Lane, late in the afternoon, and found a domestic scene that would have made a fitting subject for a painter of ordinary life.

  The table was littered with dirty tea things while Kate stretched out on the bed, listening as Constable Hale, in his shirt sleeves, read aloud to her from The Bugle. The fire had been made up to terrific proportions, and the room was uncomfortably warm. Lying beside Kate was a large tabby tom cat, flat on his back and clearly in an ecstatic trance from her gentle rubbing of his chin. Better that the cat was enslaved than Constable Hale, thought Giles.

  Hale stumbled to his feet at the sight of him, and hastily put on his coat.

  When Giles had dismissed him, Kate said, “He was glad to be off his feet. Sounds like you are a hard master.”

  “Where did that cat come from?” said Giles.

  “He wandered in from downstairs. Lovely, isn’t he?” she said. “You always know where you are with a cat.”

  “Put your bonnet on,” he said. “We are going out.”

  “Just when I’d got comfortable,” she said, not moving from the bed.” Shame to waste such a good fire,” she said. “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  “Where are we going?” she said.

  He took her bonnet from the hook and held it out to her.

  “To my office. Something has happened. I need you to identify someone.”

  She sat up now, squinting at him.

  “Do you mean –?” she broke off and took the bonnet from him. “Who is it?” she said, getting up from the bed. “You want me to look at a dead man, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so, yes.”

  She fell silent and put on her bonnet.

  He took her in the carriage to the Northern Office, although it was very close. It was drizzling and he had not wanted to risk being seen with her in the streets.

  They reached the gloomy little forecourt that fronted the building and as he handed her out of the carriage, she looked around her with some trepidation.

  “Do I have to?” she said. “Isn’t there someone else? I don’t –”

  “It won’t take long,” he said, ushering her inside.

  They went downstairs to Carswell’s laboratory. He was standing at his desk, writing up his notes, while the newly delivered cadaver of Colonel Parham lay under a sheet.

  “Oh God, the smell –” Kate said, stopping on the threshold and covering her mouth.

  “It won’t take long,” Giles said.

  “I’ll turn up the gas,” said Carswell. “It’s getting dark in here.”

  “Who’s he?” said Kate.

  “This is Mr Carswell, the surgeon.”

  She shuddered, but allowed Giles to bring her into the room.

  “You’re going to cut him up?” she said, pointing at the mound under the sheet.

  “In due course,” said Carswell.

  “Show me him then, for God’s sake!” she burst out. “Before I heave my guts up!”

  Carswell folded back the sheet to display the Colonel’s face.

  “Oh, Christ in Heaven!” Kate said. Then she turned away, and began to retch.

  Carswell got a pail for her, and took her out into the lobby at the foot of the stairs, where she sat vomiting and crying for some minutes. A nip of brandy calmed her at length, and then Giles took her upstairs to his office, where she sat hunched and shaking on the chair in the corner.

  “So who was he?” Giles said, handing her a cup of coffee.

  “Was he murdered?” she said. “He was, wasn’t he? Why else would he be here, waiting to be cut up?”

  “Who was he, Kate?” he said, crouching down beside her, seeing her hesitate. “The truth now.”

  “The Colonel,” she said and glanced away, choking back more tears. “How did he die?”

  “He was hanged. Do you have any idea who might have done such a thing?”

  “How would I?” she said, with a dismissive shrug that seemed to imply the opposite.

  “Let’s start from the beginning,” Giles said, getting up and fetching a chair for himself. He sat down opposite her. “How often did you see him?”

  “Once or twice a week.”

  “For how long had he been coming?”

  “Two or three months. He’d do it for his health, like I said. I think he had a wife. She was delicate, the way ladies are, you know.”

  “And who brought him here?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “But you said he had a tab. And liked to gamble.”

  “Maybe. Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I know you think I do, but I don’t! Why can’t you just leave it?”

  “I can’t. I’ve two men murdered, and you are going to help me. If you don’t want to,” he said, getting up, “I can always let the p
eople you are so afraid of know that you did talk. That wouldn’t be difficult to arrange and then you would be in trouble.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “I will do what I need to. So think about that. You are far safer talking to me. And if you do, you will help your lover.” She screwed up her face and looked away. “Tell me about Bickley,” he ventured. She looked back at him now. “Is he your boss?”

  There was a long silence and then she sniffed noisily.

  “He’s not going to like this,” she said. “The Colonel was like a pet to him. They were always talking about horses and dogs and all sorts. He’d come into my room after we’d done it and then they would sit jawing on for hours. I used to fall asleep in my chair by the fire. Not that I am complaining about it – full belly, clothes on my back, no one bashing me about.” She gave a great sigh. “Oh God, why did I ever open my mouth?”

  “Because of the man you love,” Giles said.

  “Love is a fool’s game. I’ve know that all my bloody life and then along he comes and –”

  “What’s his name?” Giles said.

  “Johnny,” she said. “There, you might as well have it all. Johnny bloody Hopkins! There. But you won’t tell them I’ve said this, will you? Swear you won’t?”

  “You’ve done the right thing,” he said. “I know it isn’t easy. And Johnny works for Bickley?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “And Bickley owns the place you took me to?”

  “Yes.”

  “And there are gambling rooms, as well as girls like you?”

  “Yes. It’s more the gambling than girls. We’re just the entertainment. It’s good that way. You’re not working all the time. Is that what you want?”

  “It’s a start. How did you come to be there?”

  “I was working in Leeds. He picked me up. We had a night of it, and then he took me there saying I was too good for the street.”

  “Bickley did?”

  “Yes. He’s not rough, nothing like that, not with us girls. We get all we like to eat and ready money, and all that. It’s a good place for someone like me. It was, but I won’t be going back now, will I?”

  “No,” said Giles, but decided he would return at once.

  He gave directions for Kate to be returned to Parker’s Lane and watched as closely as before. Then he went down to speak to Carswell, whom he found examining his cadaver.

  “I’m considering having him taken over to the Infirmary,” said Carswell, “given that the morgue there is a good deal cooler. This muggy weather is hastening decomposition and as I shan’t get the necessary permissions until the day after tomorrow –”

  “Yes, that’s a good plan,” said Giles. “And if you are at liberty tomorrow, you can come with me to Swalecliffe to see the widow.”

  “Oh Lord, yes, I suppose so,” said Carswell, covering up the body again. “Poor woman.”

  “In the meantime, there is somewhere I want to go tonight. Will you come with me? I could do with another pair of eyes.”

  -o-

  Major Vernon took him to a quiet corner of town which he had never visited before, the parish of an old church dedicated to the Magdalen. From underneath the dark and dripping shadow of an overhanging yew tree in the churchyard, a man emerged to greet them. It was Lloyd, one of Major Vernon’s plain clothes constables.

  “I’m glad you came, sir,” he said. “It’s been as quiet as the grave today. Not a soul going in nor coming out. Constable Martin will tell you the same.”

  “No lights in the windows, even?”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “That’s very interesting. You can go home, now, Lloyd. Good work.”

  The constable left, and Major Vernon crossed the road and stood peering in through a locked gate which covered the entrance to an alley. Carswell joined him.

  “I wish I had a better map of this district,” the Major said. “It is hard to work out which property is which.”

  He was carrying a small lantern which he now hooked onto the gate. He lit the flame and then set to examining the lock.

  “Would you care to attempt this one, Mr Carswell?” he said, handing Felix his set of skeleton keys.

  “I’ll try,” said Felix. “What is this place?”

  “Gambling rooms and brothel.”

  “Surely not? Here?” Felix said, matching the key to the lock and then inserting it. A few moments of gentle manipulation and the lock turned.

  “I knew you would surpass me,” said Major Vernon, smiling and taking up the lantern. He blew out the flame. “Shall we?”

  The gate was well oiled and opened with a touch. The Major went first, for which Felix was glad. It was not fully dark yet but the brilliance of the lantern had made his eyes crave light.

  They went down a twisting passageway, with high brick walls on either side, before turning into a courtyard which seemed to contain three terraced houses. There was no sign of life. The shutters were closed and no chink of light escaped from within.

  “The cat’s gone,” said Major Vernon trying the front door. He turned the lock successfully but the door would not budge. “It must be bolted from the inside. Are you ready for some serious housebreaking, Mr Carswell?”

  “I don’t know,” said Felix.

  “Those shutters haven’t been fixed properly,” he said, pointing to one of the ground floor windows. “If I break the glass, I should be able to get the window catch undone, and the sash up, as far as it can go. Then you can climb in.”

  Major Vernon stripped off his coat, and wrapped it about his hand to make a soft club with which he efficiently broke one of the astragaled panes of glass. He reached in, unhooked the catch and forced the window up a scant foot. He then pushed open the shutters.

  “You are quite practised,” Felix said, wondering how he was going to get through such a narrow gap.

  “You will need a leg up,” said Major Vernon, offering his clasped hands like a good ostler assisting a man onto a horse.

  Fortunately there was a sofa under the window, and Felix found a comfortable landing as he slithered through. He rolled onto his back, falling off the sofa as he did. He blinked, trying to see what sort of room it was. There was a dull glint of gold and mirrors, and the flash of a chandelier above him. There was also a strong smell of cigars and spirits.

  Catching his bearings, and feeling not a little terrified of discovery, he hastened out to the hall to draw the bolts and let Major Vernon in.

  “I hope to God there is no one here,” he said to him.

  “I don’t think there is,” said Major Vernon, relighting his lantern. “I think...” he broke off, looking into the room where Felix had come in.

  “If this is a den of vice,” Felix said glancing back into what seemed to resemble a drawing room that had seen better days, “it seems commonplace.”

  “Yes, certainly, but comfortable. Perhaps that’s the trick of it,” said the Major. “If you make the surroundings seem less strange, the sense of risk is diminished.”

  “If I was taking a risk,” Felix said, “I would want to feel it. To get my money’s worth.”

  Major Vernon crossed the room and opened a door to another chamber.

  “I think this is where the real business takes place,” he said. The room contained a large round table covered with a baize cloth. “Lord knows how much money got wasted here. All very nicely set up for the convenience of those enslaved by the cards and the dice. And so damned well hidden! I really should have guessed that there was something like this.”

  “Something that looks like a boarding house?” Felix said. “There are sentimental prints on the wall. How could anyone guess that this is a brothel and a gambling hell?”

  “Well, George Bickley is a cunning devil.”

  “Bickley? This is his place?”

  “The same. It’s no coincidence that this place is deserted. Bickley is taking no risks, and has closed down the operation. But how did they man
age it so discreetly?”

  Major Vernon left the room, and Felix followed him upstairs. They went up to the third storey and through a succession of interconnecting garrets.

  “Ah, this explains it!” said the Major stopping in front of a door and pulling it open. “I once saw this in another house in Horseferry Street. It’s a precaution against fire, but of course, it works equally well if you wish to leave the building unnoticed. And they didn’t remember to lock it, which was careless!”

  “And that’s another house through there?”

  “Yes, in Butcher Row, I think, if I have my bearings right. Which is quite a busy street, generally, and no one would notice a small exodus of light women and their band boxes.”

  He stepped through the door and Felix followed. They found themselves in a far tighter, lower attic, with ancient beams above them, and quite empty of lumber. A primitive stair that was scarcely more than a ladder led downstairs to another deserted room, and a final stair took them to what looked like a shop, with a counter and a shuttered window.

  “A shop with no stock,” said Major Vernon.

  “And no more than ten foot wide,” said Felix, looking about him.

  “Most convenient,” said Major Vernon opening the shutter a crack and looking out into the gas-lit street. “And even a bed and a fire for the doorkeeper,” he added, walking to the back of the shop, where an empty bedstead had been set up adjacent to the hearth.

  Then he went back upstairs.

  “How did you know this was all here in the first place?” Felix said, following him.

  “That woman, Kate, that I brought in to identify the Colonel. She worked here.”

  “And he was one of her clients?”

  Major Vernon did not answer. They were on the first floor now, looking at a long passageway, with doors opening off it. He pushed open one of the doors and went in.

  “Yes,” he said, as Felix came into what appeared to be a neatly furnished sitting room. The Major had set his lantern down on the mantle, and appeared to be examining the flowered wallpaper closely. “I told you I did something foolish,” he said.

  He snatched up his lantern and went through the door into an adjoining room, where a large bed and various large mirrors formed the principal furnishings. Again Major Vernon began to examine the walls.