Liza

by Irene Carr

  * * *

  Liza closed the door behind her and shrugged into her coat, shivering in the chill of the night. The sky was overcast, with only a few stars pricking the dark and a glimpse of a waning moon between the clouds. She knew there was an early train to Newcastle and she could wait in the station until it drew in. The tears came now and she hesitated, her resolve weakening. But she knew she could not stay and started down the drive. She walked round the belt of woodland that screened the house from the road, stepping close under the trees. A figure loomed out of the darkness, a man who lifted his hat to ask, ‘Miss Cecily Spencer, I believe.’

  Instinctively, she played her part of the last four weeks. ‘Yes?’

  The man seized her, clamped a hand across her mouth, an arm round her waist, and threw her to the ground, her face pressed into the soil. She tried to struggle but could do nothing against his strength, spreadeagled as she was. He held her there while he jammed into her mouth a gag he took from his pocket, then tied it in place with another. Then he drew the rope out of his pocket and lashed Liza’s hands behind her. He yanked her to her feet, took a blackjack from his pocket and thrust it in front of her face. He whispered, ‘Give me any trouble and you’ll get this.’ And he led her away.

  * * *

  Flora stood with the trap in the copse opposite the gateway. She could not see Jasper or Liza, but the figure plodding up from the town was clear against the grey of the road. She watched him — in silhouette it was clearly a man — turn in through the gates. She wondered what she should do. How could she warn Jasper? But she was too late.

  * * *

  Vince saw the woman as the moon shone through a break in the clouds. He had expected Liza, but not with her face dirty, a gag in her mouth, being led on a rope by a man.

  ‘Here! What d’ye think you’re doing?’ he said.

  * * *

  The man lashed out with the blackjack, a blow that took Vince on the side of the head and he fell flat on his back. From the sound of that blow, like an axe into timber, and the way he had toppled, Liza knew he was dead, the life struck from him. Then the man, who had been crouching, teeth bared in a soundless snarl, stood up and hauled on the rope again.

  Out in the road they met a frightened Flora, who asked, ‘What happened, Jasper? A feller came up and went in. I wanted to warn you but I didn’t dare shout.’

  ‘He won’t trouble us,’ Jasper growled.

  ‘What have you done?’

  ‘I told you, he won’t trouble anybody.’ Flora gave a little moan but he ignored her and shoved Liza into the trap. She was beginning to recover. She was still shocked from the murder but she knew now she was the victim of a mistake, which she had made possible. When Jasper reached under her skirts to seize her legs she kicked out at him. He cursed as her heel tore skin from his hand, and lifted the blackjack.

  ‘No!’ Flora cried.

  He swung round and hissed, ‘Shut your mouth! Give me a hand with her.’

  He held Liza’s legs while Flora lashed them together, then thrust his face close to Liza’s. ‘You got me sent down but you never thought I’d come for you. Now, are you ready to beg?’ Liza mumbled incomprehensibly through the gag. ‘Keep your voice down, but I want to hear you sing.’ He took out the gag.

  ‘I’m not Cecily Spencer,’ Liza said, tongue thick in her dry mouth.

  ‘Yes, you are. And I’m going to bury you like you buried me, but they’ll find you five thousand miles away. Now will you beg?’

  ‘I didn’t lie. I’m not Cecily Spencer. I’m—’

  He shoved the gag back into her mouth and tied it in place. ‘You won’t beg? We’ll see, Miss High and Mighty.’

  ‘What are you going to do with her? You said a leathering.’ Flora sounded terrified.

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  ‘What if she isn’t the one?’

  ‘She is. Galloway fingered her, and that maid.’

  ‘Maybe he made a mistake and she was lying,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Don’t do it.’

  He started to climb into the trap. ‘She’s the one — said it herself. “Miss Cecily Spencer?” I said. “Yes,” she said.’ Flora clung to his arm. ‘No! You can’t!’

  ‘Can’t?’ He threw her off. ‘I’ll show you whether I can or not!’ And he struck her a blow that sent her sprawling. ‘You’ll be nothing but a bloody nuisance. Go down to the station and wait there for me.’ She lay inert, and he wheeled the trap out into the road and headed for the town.

  Liza was curled on the floor of the trap, her mouth packed with the evil-tasting rag. Jasper had one foot on her to prevent any movement, his boot grinding into her. She was able to ignore all these as minor tribulations. But fear filled her. She had to escape.

  * * *

  Elspeth sat in the firelight’s glow, huddled inside her dressing-gown, miserable. She was looking back over the weeks, remembering how she had been hostile when the girl first came — and for some time after. She had come to respect her, and eventually grown fond of her — very fond, she realised now. She could forgive the girl’s duplicity; she had been virtually forced into it by Cecily Spencer — and the need to provide for her child. Elspeth would miss Liza Thornton, and so would a lot of others.

  William, for one.

  She had known William since he first came to the house at the age of five, knew his ways very well, and she had thought lately that he was taking to the lassie. This business would hurt him, but he had to be told.

  Elspeth climbed the stairs and tapped at the door of his room but there was no answer. She opened the door and entered. ‘Captain Morgan?’ The light from the dying fire was enough for her to see that his bed was empty and had not been slept in. Oh dear, she thought. Now she knew how he felt about the girl who had gone. She left the room and went to the other, hurrying now. She entered without knocking and called, ‘William!’ as she had when he was a boy.

  He sat up in bed, blinking at her. ‘Elspeth?’ Then he realised where he was and looked for Liza.

  ‘She’s gone. Run away,’ the housekeeper said, ‘and if you want to stop her you’ll have to move.’ Then she turned her back on him.

  ‘What?’ He shot out of bed and reached for his clothes. ‘Gone? Gone where? And why?’

  ‘To her mother and her bairn in Newcastle.’

  ‘Her mother? A bairn?’ He jammed his legs into his trousers.

  ‘Aye, and she isn’t Miss Spencer. She’s a lady’s maid called Liza Thornton.’ She sketched in the story Liza had told her as he finished dressing, then followed him down the stairs. ‘You might catch her at the station.’

  In the hall he grabbed a coat and threw open the door. ‘I’ll find her. She’s been one for secrets this past week. I thought she might be hiding something, but to pull the wool over our eyes like this! I can’t believe it.’

  He was running down the steps when she called, ‘William! Be gentle. Don’t lose your temper with her. Please.’

  He glanced over his shoulder, exasperated. ‘Are you mad? I want her to marry me.’ That was said instinctively but in his heart he had known what he wanted for a long time. Then he was running round to the stables.

  * * *

  Jasper saw the same policeman patrolling his beat in Fawcett Street. The pony was trotting steadily and the man in blue heard its hoofbeats and turned to look. Jasper took one hand off the reins to grip the blackjack. He would not be taken now. But the constable remembered him and put a finger to his helmet in salute: ‘G’night, sir.’

  Jasper released the blackjack, waved his whip and called, ‘A girl! Mother and child both well.’ When he was out of earshot, he laughed.

  Liza heard this exchange, tried to shout but could only mumble, kicked with both legs together but the banging on the side of the trap was drowned under the clatter of the pony’s hoofs. Jasper cursed her, ‘Stay still or I’ll belt ye.’ She obeyed but went back to teasing at the rope on her legs. Flora had tied those knots and there was some give in them.
She could just reach them with her fingers, her hands being bound at the wrists. It was slow, painful work and she knew that time was running out.

  * * *

  Flora lay on the ground and wept, frightened and alone. She was afraid of what Jasper intended to do, although she did not know what it was, afraid for herself and the part she had played. She was also afraid for the girl Jasper had abducted. She climbed unsteadily to her feet and stumbled out on to the road, then passed through the gates. She started along the drive, then heard the sound of an engine and the beam of headlights swept around the side of the house and blazed in her face. There was a screech! of brakes and a spurt of gravel as the Vauxhall came to a stop. Flora bent her head and put up a hand to shield her eyes. Then she saw the body lying at her feet. This was too much for her shattered nerves and she screamed.

  * * *

  William saw the woman and his hopes soared. Then he realised she was not Liza. He jumped down from the Vauxhall and ran to her, his overcoat flapping open over his dinner jacket. He held her for a moment: ‘All right. I’ll fetch someone to look after you.’ He had no need.

  Elspeth was trotting down from the house, the front door open behind her, the skirts of her dressing-gown lifted so she could run. ‘Oh, Lord help us! What’s happened?’

  William was still grappling with the shock of learning Liza’s identity. ‘I don’t know.’ He handed over Flora to Elspeth, knelt by the body and examined Vince. ‘He’s dead.’ Now he looked up at Flora: ‘What do you know about this?’

  She sniffed, Elspeth’s arms about her, and peered out at him. ‘Jasper done it.’

  ‘Jasper Barbour? They arrested him.’

  ‘No. They got the wrong man. He came here tonight to break in and bring out the lady, that Cecily Spencer. Stupid little madam!’ she said. ‘If she’d kept quiet none of this would have happened. This feller here must have got in Jasper’s way, that’s all. I begged him not to do it, but he just hit me.’

  William gripped her shoulder and shook it. ‘That wasn’t Cecily Spencer!’

  She clung to Elspeth and gaped at him. ‘What? She said she wasn’t but—’

  William shook her again. ‘Where has he taken her?’

  ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say what he was going to do either, except that he was going to bury her and she’d be five thousand miles away when they found her.’

  William stared at her. Five thousand miles? That meant a ship, but which one?

  Gibson came running now, jerked out of sleep by the Vauxhall’s engine, his nightshirt tucked into his trousers. ‘What’s going on, sir?’

  But William had no time for explanations now. He was swinging in behind the wheel. ‘Help Mrs Taggart!’ Then he was accelerating down the drive, heeling over in the tight turn as he steered the car out of the gate and on to the road. He thought he knew where Jasper had taken his prisoner and what he intended, and William was frightened as never before.

  And if he was wrong?

  * * *

  Jasper stopped the pony some fifty yards from the coal staiths and the watchman’s cabin. He walked up to it and peeped in at the window to see the old man sprawled asleep in his chair, mouth open and eyes shut. Jasper retraced his steps, found the weak spot in the fence that he had marked earlier and wrenched at it until it was wide enough.

  He had left Liza lying on the floor of the trap. Now she undid the last of the knots and stood up. Her hands were still bound but that did not stop her opening the little door at the back of the trap and then she was out on the cobbled road, running. Jasper turned and saw her, swore and set off in pursuit. Liza ran as though her life depended on it, and so it did, but Jasper was faster and overhauled her. He snatched at her shoulder and caught a handful of her coat and the brown dress. Both were made of stout cloth and while they tore from neck to waist, they did not rip away completely. Then he seized her upper arms, and dragged her back to the trap.

  He tied her legs again, blaspheming and threatening all the while. This time Liza felt the rope tighter: there was no slack, as there had been last time, to enable her to wriggle free.

  When he was done he glared down at her, her bare shoulders white in the moonlight. ‘You won’t get out o’ that.’ Then he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and headed for the gap in the wire fence. He passed through it as if it were an open door and made for the ship where it lay alongside the quay. He did not like the light: the moon was shining brightly out of a clear sky now, although more clouds were gathering. ‘Anybody can see me,’ he muttered.

  There was a gangway, but he stopped short of that and set Liza down. He watched and listened for two or three minutes, but saw no one on deck. At last satisfied, and impatient now —he knew it would be dawn soon — he heaved her up again and crossed the gangway. He glanced up, saw that the coal chute was positioned over the forward hold and made his way to it. The holds were open, the hatches off, ready to receive the cargo of coal.

  He hesitated over whether to throw Liza down, because he did not know how much noise her body would make, whether someone would hear it. Her fate hung on such a triviality. Finally he decided it was not worth the risk. And he had to get on: the first pink and grey of dawn was showing in the east. A steel ladder ran down into the hold, put there to give access to the cargo. He hitched Liza more securely on to his shoulder and started down.

  * * *

  The Vauxhall had raced down Fawcett Street. William had seen a policeman standing on the pavement, waving at him to stop, but he ignored the man and drove on, racked by doubt. He had come to a conclusion, based on what Flora had told him, but was it right? And if he was wrong, what would that mean for Liza? He groaned in anguish as the Vauxhall tore across the bridge. From there he could see the staiths on both sides of the river. Had he chosen the right ones?

  He drove over the bridge and through narrow streets. There were the staiths, a light in the watchman’s cabin, its door shut. He jumped out of the motor-car, found that the door was locked and put his shoulder to it. He ran past the watchman, who had been snatched from sleep and was blinking blearily, through the cabin and out on to the quay. It lay before him in that first grey light and it was empty.

  * * *

  The hold, open to the sky, was not so dark as it had appeared from above. When Jasper stepped off the ladder he carried Liza to the side where the deck overhung that strip of the hold and laid her down. ‘Anybody having a look into the hold won’t see you lying here.’ In the gloom he could just make out her face, a pale oval distorted by the gag, the shine of her eyes. He wanted to see her fear, and went down on his knees to bend over her. ‘Now will you plead?’ But just then a locomotive engine chuffed and its siren hooted, close by. It drowned his words so he repeated them: ‘Will you plead now? Will you?’

  He saw her eyes, wet with tears, widen. Then he was seized and thrown aside, hurled out into the hold as if he were a bundle of clothes. His head had slammed on to the steel deck and he lay stunned for some seconds. As his senses returned he saw the man who had taken his place kneeling by the girl. Jasper reached for the blackjack and jumped to his feet, intent on murder. He did not hear the thunder approaching. Then William looked round — to see Jasper and the threat he posed. He had taken the gag off Liza and loosed her wrists, but now he stood up, raging inside and looking for a target for that anger.

  The thunder was close now, deafening, then the first wagonload of coal, tons of it, fell from the chute. In that last split second Jasper realised the locomotive he had heard was starting the process of loading coal into the holds of the ship and the one in which he stood was the first. He realised the growing thunder had been the sound of the coal, tipped from the first wagon, rumbling down the chute. And in that last split second he instinctively looked up.

  * * *

  William saw Jasper struck down as if by some gigantic hammer. Then there was nothing but a pile of coal and a cloud of dust that filled the hold. He turned and scooped up Liza from the deck. She had freed he
r legs but was stiff and unsteady. He wrapped his arm about her waist and carried her thus as he felt his way round the hold to the ladder. He had to rely on touch because the dust was blinding now, as wagonload after wagonload followed the first at intervals of only a few seconds. At the ladder he hoisted her over his shoulder as Jasper had, and climbed to the deck above, then went across the gangway to the quay. There they were clear of the dust, which was blown away downriver by the wind. A group of startled workmen, just arrived to work, stared at them, as if they had climbed up out of hell. In a way, of course, they had.

  William set Liza on her feet but held her as she clung to him. She wiped a paste of coal dust and tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘I thought I was going to die. How did you know where I’d gone?’

  ‘Flora told me he meant to bury you, and nobody would find you until you were five thousand miles away. That last bit sounded like a ship and I knew one that was sailing that distance: the Wear Trader, one of ours, a Spencer ship. And I knew she was due to load a cargo of coal from these staiths first thing today. But I wasn’t sure, until I looked into the hold and saw you there with him.’

  ‘Flora?’

  ‘Jasper’s woman. The report of his arrest was a mistake. They had the wrong man.’

  A foreman came hurrying. ‘Now then, what’s going on here?’

  William faced him. ‘I’m Captain Morgan of the Spencer Line. A man abducted this young lady and he’s still aboard, lying in the forward hold.’ As he spoke another wagonload thundered down the chute.

  ‘Good God! I’ll have to stop the loading!’ The foreman spun round and broke into a run.

  William turned back to Liza and lifted her blackened chin with his blackened fingers. ‘Liza — I know it’s Liza, Elspeth told me. We have a lot to talk about, but not here.’ He indicated the curious workmen. ‘We look a couple of sweeps.’

  She did not want to go with him, was reluctant to face the final reckoning from which she had fled, and yet ... She said weakly, ‘I told my mother and my little girl I would be home soon. I was going today.’