‘You have told enough,’ I said, after a moment. ‘Had I known…’ I frowned as it struck me. ‘Had I known such things were already occurring when I was a magistrate, I-’
‘Nobody knew,’ Jane said at once. ‘Save those who shared my father’s desires - or took payment for their silence.’
‘Indeed… there seem to have been a number of those,’ I said, feeling my anger rise anew. I thought back to what Boyd had told me of the first inquest, and what I had seen myself at the second – and on a sudden, I banged my hand on my chair.
‘Like Justice Standish,’ I muttered.
Childers gave a start. ‘Sir, that’s most-’
‘I know what it is,’ I snapped. ‘But one way or another, I will lay the whole business bare, or…’ I broke off; this was not something to air before Jane, who had told her story so bravely.
‘You humble me with your courage,’ I told her. ‘You have done right – and again, I assure you that you are safe here. You and your sister may remain under my roof, for as long as you wish. Meanwhile…’ I hesitated. ‘Meanwhile, I need you to trust me to take what actions are needed.’
I paused, weighing my words, but the time was past for avoiding the facts. Meeting Jane’s eye, I spelled it out.
‘The matter is, we may be speaking of murder, mistress: the double murder of your sister and her unborn child. And there are the deaths of Howell Rhys and Ned Berritt, who were almost certainly murdered too - though as yet, I know not by whom. Hence, I must ask: are you willing to swear an oath as to what you have told me? And if you do, and the law takes its course, do you realise what the consequences might be?’
A moment passed, while Jane lowered her gaze. Childers and I exchanged looks, but it seemed there was no more to be said. Terrible crimes had been revealed, as wicked as any I had heard. For the present, I thought, there was only the word of this girl to set against that of her own father, one of the most powerful men in the shire… but perhaps that could change. For I knew who to confront next – and woe betide Abel Humphreys, if he should try using that fixed smile to disarm me again.
My train of thought was broken by Jane’s quiet voice.
‘I will do whatever is needed to bring justice, sir,’ she said. ‘For my sister, and for Howell… even the old woodman.’ She sighed again. ‘Indeed, I fear I will not sleep soundly until it is done, and we may lay the past to rest.’
At last, for the first time since her arrival, she managed a faint smile. It was brief, but it was enough.
EIGHTEEN
For the remainder of that day I remained alone in my private chamber, dwelling on Jane’s testimony. Much was now clear, but it brought little comfort: the matter weighed upon me, and I could see no immediate source of aid. I dismissed Standish: he had questions to answer, but they would wait. I consoled myself somewhat in writing a letter to Boyd, giving him a full account of what had been revealed; Elkins would ride to Worcester and deliver it. Then came the difficult matter of informing Cobbett that his daughters were safe.
I confess I struggled over that, penning two versions of the letter before rejecting both. At last I decided to throw caution aside and tell him outright that the girls had sought my help, and were now lodged at Thirldon. I was uncertain what action he would take: given the kind of man he was, he might simply arrive in force and demand I hand them over. Or would he resort to the law, even accusing me of kidnapping? Hence, I took the decision to hold back the letter until the morrow. This day was the Sabbath, and I would wait before doing what I now burned to do: ride to Humphreys’ farm and force a confession from him. The way my mind was working, I might have resorted to force, which is why I decided to take Childers with me.
‘Once again,’ I told him that evening, ‘you will be my witness, as will Lockyer. We will be armed, but must draw no weapons. Leave the questioning to me. I mean to go early in the morning, and catch him unawares.’
He barely nodded; Jane’s testimony that day had affected him deeply. ‘And should you get some admission from Humphreys, what do you intend?’ He asked. ‘To take him by force?’
‘I’m uncertain,’ I admitted. ‘In truth, my powers are no different from those of any gentleman. But I believe I have right on my side. Let’s see what the day brings, shall we?’
Whereupon we parted, with my doing my best to appear calm and resolved. Yet I was in turmoil, and beset by doubt.
***
The day dawned fair, as the three of us got mounted and rode out of Thirldon. Hester was at the doors to see us leave; she was subdued, and had said little. Though she urged restraint on my part, she knew it was futile: she had always recognised my anger.
The way down to Powick was quiet, with few people about. I rode in front with Childers, the two of us wearing swords and poniards. Lockyer brought up the rear, armed with a dagger and an oak billet tied to his saddle. I had told him only as much as I needed to: that I intended to interrogate Humphreys for a suspected crime. He had taken in the news without expression, which caused me some disquiet: how much the Thirldon servants knew or speculated about our young guests, I did not know.
We clattered over the Teme bridge, and villagers stopped to observe us: an armed party, sober-faced and determined. In truth I felt like Justice Belstrang again, a magistrate with powers; whether Abel Humphreys would see it that way was a different matter. Yet matters would fall out, one way or another; and since the journey thereafter was quite short, it would be soon enough.
The farmyard was exactly as I had seen it last: untidy and deserted. Though the barn door was closed, and there was no-one watching. We rode up in a body, drew rein before the house and sat our horses in silence. But this time, nobody emerged.
A minute or more passed, and still all was quiet. Finally I dismounted, telling the others to do the same. Lockyer held the horses while Childers stood apart. Summoning my best authority, I strode to the house and knocked on the door.
At first there was no answer, though I fancied I heard sounds from within. Then came the scrape of a bolt being drawn, and at last the door opened - to reveal Mistress Humphreys in her black frock, gazing sightlessly past me.
‘My husband’s not here,’ she snapped.
‘It’s Robert Belstrang, mistress,’ I said, perhaps too loudly. ‘Formerly Justice Belstrang. I was here ten days ago-’
‘I remember,’ came the terse reply. ‘I may be blind, but I’m not a fool.’
‘Then perhaps you’ll tell me where he is.’
‘I cannot.’
I paused, thinking on my next move, which irritated the woman. ‘There’s nothing for you here,’ she said harshly – then she stiffened, as did I: there was a noise from within the house, as of a door closing. At once, I turned about.
‘The rear!’ I called to Childers. ‘He’s trying to flee.’
It was Lockyer who responded. Dropping the horses’ reins, he moved quickly to the side of the house where there was a fence and, beyond that, an open paddock. Vaulting the bars with an alacrity that surprised me, he disappeared from sight. Meanwhile, Childers came forward to stand beside me.
‘Will you accompany Mistress Humphreys inside?’ I asked him. ‘I fear she’s not been entirely truthful with me.’
At that, the woman caught her breath and would have spoken – then she felt my hand on my arm, and went rigid.
‘With your permission, madam,’ I said, bending close. ‘My servant is a gentleman… will you let him attend you?’
Leaving the two of them, I turned and made haste to follow Lockyer. I was unsure what to expect, but in the end the chase, if one could call it such, was short-lived. No sooner had I rounded the side of the farmhouse than the stout figure of Humphreys appeared, red-faced and out of breath, being marched forward by my servant.
‘It’s a while since I ran anywhere, Master Justice,’ Lockyer said, breathing hard. ‘But there was small need.’ With a jerk of his head, he indicated his captive. ‘The poor man is spent already.’
&n
bsp; I waited until they were at the fence, noting with satisfaction that, this time, Humphreys’ grin was noticeable by its absence. Panting, his thick tongue hanging loose, he regarded me with a mixture of fear and anger.
‘Will you climb over?’ I invited, placing a hand on my sword-hilt. ‘Then we can enter your house by the main door. I’m eager to avail myself of your hospitality again.’
For a moment, it looked as if he would try to break free, but Lockyer was ready. Tightening his grip so that the man flinched, he spoke in his ear. ‘You heard my master. Can you do it alone, or do you need my help?’
With a savage look, Humphreys put a hand on the top rail and prepared to get his portly frame over it.
***
The interrogation began badly.
‘You have no right,’ Humphreys protested, more than once. ‘You’re not a Justice, nor any officer of the law. I could charge you with trespass and affray, and more besides. I want you out of my house!’
‘Believe me, nothing would give me more pleasure,’ I told him, in my best magisterial tone. ‘But let’s have a talk first, shall we?’
He was about to reply, but instead threw a baleful look at Childers and I, facing him across his table. Lockyer had remained outside with the horses, but Mistress Humphreys was seated across the room. She had insisted on being present: an angry, silent figure, fists clenched in her lap.
‘The young shepherd, Rhys,’ I said, leaning forward abruptly. ‘Did you kill him, or have someone else do it?’
Humphreys blinked in that owlish way of his, but gave no answer.
‘Or what about Ned Berritt?’ I continued. ‘You once beat him severely, so I heard. Did you kill him too?’
There was a stir from across the room, as Sarah Humphreys shifted on her stool. Her husband had gone pale, but still said nothing.
‘See now, I can take all day if need be,’ I lied, fixing him with my blandest look. ‘But I mean to have answers, which I can take to my friend Justice Standish in Worcester. Did I mention that he’s most interested in the case, as are others?’
‘What case?’ Humphreys demanded then. ‘I don’t understand why you’re here, charging me with these crimes-’
‘I’ve laid no charges,’ I broke in. ‘I merely want to hear what you know of those deaths.’ I paused, allowing a trace of anger to show. ‘You see, I made a promise to the father of Howell Rhys, that I would try to find his son’s killer. He doesn’t believe Howell took his own life – and nor do I.’
‘By God…’ Humphreys swallowed, looking round for something to drink, but the table was unladen. Meeting my eye briefly, he drew a breath, then: ‘I swear on my father’s grave, I did not kill him.’
‘But you know who did,’ I said, taking a gamble.
He said nothing; across the room, his wife sat motionless.
‘Let’s say it was Giles Cobbett who had him slain,’ I suggested. ‘After all, he’d threatened to do it. Though after his daughter’s death, one might wonder at his motives - unless, that is, the youth knew things Cobbett didn’t want spread abroad. I think you know what I speak of.’
Having said that, I sat back. I had touched on the topic of Cobbett’s and Humphreys’ treatment of Susanna sooner than intended, and was in danger of allowing my anger to burst forth. Catching Childers’ eye, I saw that he thought the same.
‘But I don’t,’ Humphreys said, shaking his head. ‘Know what you speak of, I mean…’
‘Please don’t take me for a fool,’ I retorted. ‘Matters have come to light, concerning your frequent forays across the river to Ebbfield. Did you not know that the missing Cobbett girls have been found, and are being most helpful?’
The silence that fell then was deadly. I glanced briefly at the man’s wife, who was still as a statue. Facing Humphreys again, I raised my eyebrows and waited.
‘What is it you mean to do?’ He asked, somewhat hoarsely. ‘Were I to speak, I…’ he gulped, and swallowed noisily. He was afraid now, as well he might be. ‘I might have done things I regret,’ he added, avoiding my eye. ‘But murder is not one of them. I knew nothing of Rhys’s death until he was found-’
‘Tell him about Berritt!’
Sarah Humphreys’ voice cut him short like a whipcrack. Startled, the three of us turned to see her on her feet, pointing a shaky finger at her husband. For his part Humphreys let out a moan, then slumped, his head in his hands.
‘Damn you to hell,’ he muttered. I looked from him to his wife, who at last gave vent to her feelings.
‘You vile wretch - you worm!’ She cried, taking a step forward. ‘Do you think you can lie your way out of this, as you’ve lied all your miserable life? Make confession like a man, if you can remember how to behave as one!’
Trembling with rage, she jabbed her finger at him. Years of hatred and resentment, I realised, were spilling out – and all the while Humphreys remained still, his face hidden.
‘Well now…’ Taking a breath, I bent forward and seized the man’s wrist, causing him to start. ‘Will you not do as your wife bids, and tell me about Ned Berritt? I would prefer to see your lips move when you do.’
He lowered his hands, revealing a face haggard with fear.
‘Or should I let her speak for you?’ I enquired.
‘No – let him condemn himself!’
Once again, Mistress Humphreys cried out. She took another step, until she was close to the table – and I swear her husband flinched, as if he believed she would strike him. It occurred to me that it might not be the first time that had happened… but she lowered her arm, and turned to me.
‘He’ll tell you what he did,’ she said, breathing fast. ‘For if he does not, he knows that I will.’ Whereupon she waited as did we all, Childers and I looking hard at Humphreys… until at last, he made confession.
‘I killed Berritt,’ he admitted, in a voice so low he could barely be heard. ‘I had to, or…’
‘Or what?’ I demanded.
He shook his head. ‘I hired him to rid the farm of rats. He would never turn down the chance of a few pennies. He came in the afternoon… we cornered him in the barn, once he’d laid down that whoreson bow of his. It was easy enough.’
‘Who’s we?’
‘My labourer and me. He knocked Berritt senseless, then we trussed him and took him upriver, after dark…’
‘And threw him in, to drown,’ I finished.
I met his eye, forcing him to look away. But I had my confession now, and I meaned to draw every last scrap of intelligence from him.
‘His body was supposed to wash downstream, was it not?’ I persisted. ‘Save that the water’s somewhat low, so it got caught in an eddy and fetched up in the reeds. Which is where Dan Tait came in, was it not?’
He continued to avoid my gaze – but at the mention of Tait, a sickly look appeared.
‘So, at last we have it,’ I sighed, with no small relief. ‘Berritt was an unwanted witness at the inquest: the finder of the body, who could make difficulties for your landlord. Which is why I assume it was on Cobbett’s orders that you despatched the fellow.’ I paused, then: ‘Not that it matters, for you’ll stand trial for his murder. I promise you that.’
There was a movement then - but not from Humphreys, who slumped like the beaten man he was. I looked round to see his wife step back to her stool, and sit down heavily.
‘May God forgive him,’ she murmured. ‘For I cannot.’
‘No… you could never forgive, could you?’
Like an animal her husband turned upon her, his voice a savage snarl.
‘Not me,’ he cried, ‘nor the miscarried children, nor our grasping landlord – not a soul, could you ever forgive! The whole world must pay for your misery, and not be allowed to forget! And whatever I did, it was never enough! Would that the God you claim to worship could pay you out for what I’ve endured – to the devil with your whoreson piety! Now I’ll be gone from here, and you can stew in your own hatred until you die! At least I’ll never have
to listen to your whining voice again!’
Whereupon he fell back, and said not another word.
Nor would he, until he was taken away tied to his horse, destined for the prison in Worcester. His rogue of a labourer, I would learn, had already fled, paid off for his silence.
As for Humphreys’ other crimes, the wicked abuse of Susanna Cobbett in collusion with her father: I decided to spare his wife that part of my interrogation. She too was broken, I knew, though she refused to show her feelings. She would say nothing further to me or my servants. In silence she let us leave while remaining seated, in a corner of the room where the sunlight did not reach.
The last part of Humphreys’ confession took place on our return journey, away from prying eyes at the quietest spot I knew: the Witching Pool.
NINETEEN
It was mid-morning by the time we arrived at the edge of Newland Wood, where I drew rein and bade Childers and Lockyer dismount. Humphreys was left on his horse with hands bound before him, while the three of us gathered in a close group. On the journey I had told Lockyer what I intended, which meant letting him know something of Humphreys’ crimes. He listened closely, then frowned.
‘In truth, sir, I’ve heard rumours about him,’ he said. ‘Never paid much mind to them, but…’ he tensed. ‘That’s why the Cobbett maids sought safety with you, is it?’
I met his gaze, but said nothing. Whereupon, with a shake of his head, he stepped away and returned to the horses. When he looked up at Humphreys, the man quickly turned from him.
‘What do you mean to do here?’ Childers asked me, with a glance at our captive. ‘Threaten to drown him?’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ I said. ‘But I need to sweat him enough to incriminate Cobbett. Hence, I will allow my anger to boil over. Your task will be to restrain me, until we’ve put the fear of God into the man. Can you do that?’
His reply was a curt nod. Whereupon we gathered about Humphreys and helped him down from the saddle – somewhat roughly, I confess. Once on the ground, he began to shake.
The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) Page 14