But once inside, I was forbidden to descend to the cellars.
‘I have my orders, Master Justice,’ Sergeant Lisle told me, the two of us standing by the stairhead. ‘And this time, I fear I cannot make exception. The woman is to be left alone until she comes to trial.’ He paused, then added in a low voice: ‘It’s feared she will bewitch anyone who goes near. There’s even been a rumour that she might call on demons, to whisk her away.’
‘God in heaven…’ I raised my eyes. ‘Cannot I even speak to her through the door?’
In his customary stolid fashion, Lisle shook his head.
I considered, wondering if I might take this man whom I trusted into my confidence, in part at least. Instead, I asked him how Agnes appeared.
‘In truth, sir, she is restless,’ he answered. ‘I fear that, by the time she comes to trial, she will be in a sorry state.’
I faced him squarely. ‘It may be that matters will turn out otherwise,’ I said. ‘I have evidence that I intend to put before Justice Standish.’
But when the man raised his brows, I reined in my impulse to say more. With a heavy heart, I left him and got myself out into the street. Only then did I observe a small knot of people gathered near the doors, eying me suspiciously. Doubtless they had been there when I arrived… was I so intent on seeing Agnes again that I had failed to notice them? One or two eyed me in belligerent fashion – and on a sudden I halted.
‘I know you, do I not?’ I said.
The man I was looking at returned my gaze – whereupon recognition dawned on him, too. Before me stood one of the two who had stopped me at the Witching Pool that day. One, I now knew, was William Mount, who had disappeared after testifying at the inquest into Howell Rhys… and here was the other.
‘I think not, sir,’ he said, rather quickly.
‘Indeed?’ I moved closer, which caused the others – idlers, for the most part – to step back. ‘Let me refresh your memory. It was at the Witching Pool, where you kept guard. You serve Giles Cobbett, do you not?’
At that there was a stir from the other men, several of them wearing puzzled looks. But the one I addressed shook his head.
‘Nay sir, I do not.’ And he would have walked off, had I not placed hand on sword and summoned my best authority.
‘Wait,’ I ordered.
He stopped, glanced at his companions who were beginning to move away, then eyed me warily.
‘See now, I’ve a mind to have you arrested,’ I told him, finding myself exhilarated at having someone to punish. ‘I’m a private citizen, of course, and I’m unsure of the charge as yet, but I’ll think of something.’
He stiffened, then by instinct his hand went to the poniard at his belt.
‘That will serve,’ I said at once. ‘Threatening a gentleman and former Justice.’ For good measure I drew my sword part-way, leaving a few inches in the scabbard.
‘Nay, I…’ the man swallowed. ‘I do not threaten, sir…’
He stopped, finding himself suddenly alone. A few bystanders had gathered out of curiosity, but kept their distance. Seizing the moment, I drew close enough to make him start.
‘Give me some answers – truthful ones - and I’ll forget I saw you,’ I said, speaking low. ‘First, do you serve Cobbett or do you not?’
He hesitated, then managed a slight nod.
‘In that case, what do you do in Worcester?’ I demanded. ‘Let me guess: your master told you stir up trouble. To gather a few loafers, buy them a drink, then lead them to the Guildhall to cry out against Agnes Mason. Am I near the mark?’
He gulped, but it was answer enough – whereupon another thought struck me. ‘By the Christ – was it you who tacked that paper to the minster doors, calling for her death?’
The man caught his breath and made no answer, but it made little difference. Matters were clear in my mind now - as they had been, I realised, for a good while. I even broke into a smile of triumph, which seemed to alarm my victim even more.
‘I’m but a servant, sir,’ he blurted, ‘and can do no other than what I’m ordered.’ He was beginning to blabber, which for me had always been a token of guilt. ‘Everyone fears the witch - do not you? And if my master’s eager to bring about her end, what man wouldn’t be, when she caused the death of his daughter? I swear, I’d hang her myself if I could-’
That was as far as he got before I lost all restraint. Thrusting my sword back into the scabbard, I seized the varlet by the throat. ‘Shut your foul mouth,’ I breathed. ‘Were you not such a dolt, I’d wring your neck where you stand. As for your master…’ I caught my breath. ‘Your master’s a murderous tyrant, who will end his days on a scaffold. Now get out of my sight – leave Worcester, and take yourself back to Ebbfield. More, take my advice and leave there before the manor falls into other hands – for you may find you’ve no place left.’
With a shove I sent him reeling backwards, causing a muttering from the watchers. I had caused a stir, which was the last thing I needed just then. And yet, I took some satisfaction in seeing Cobbett’s man turn and make haste to lose himself, head lowered. I watched him disappear around the nearest corner, then let out a breath.
There was some time yet before I was due to return to Boyd’s house, which suited me well enough. I needed a drink; or perhaps, with the prospect of confronting Standish ahead of me, more than one might be better.
***
An hour later the two of us stood in the doorway of the Justice’s house, hearing his servant protest that his master was too busy to see anyone.
‘He will see me,’ I said firmly. ‘I have vital evidence to put before him, of a capital crime.’
‘Master Belstrang, I pray you…’ the man wore a pained look. ‘In truth, since your last visit the Justice has given me instructions not to admit you. He is weighed down with business-’
‘As am I,’ I broke in. ‘But this will not wait. Now stand aside, or I’ll-’
‘You will what?’ Came a voice from the rear, causing the servant to turn about. Standish himself was shuffling along the hallway towards us, wearing his familiar scowl.
‘Am I ever to be free of you, Belstrang?’ He sighed. ‘Pray state the purpose of your visit, and let me-’
‘It’s murder,’ I said at once, causing him to stop in his tracks. Holding up the report I had prepared, I made bold to step forward. ‘Do you wish me to read it aloud, here and now?’
A moment passed, in which the Justice appeared to notice Boyd for the first time. A wary look appeared, but it was clear that he had little choice but to hear us. With another sigh, he dismissed his servant and bade us follow him indoors.
No sooner were we in his closet, however, and he had retreated behind his cluttered table, than he became brusque. ‘What do you mean by presenting yourself in this precipitate manner, sir?’ He snorted. ‘If you have evidence of such a serious nature, why have you not sent…’
He stopped, a look of doubt on his features. Following his gaze, I experienced some relief at sight of my last letter to him, lying atop a pile of papers. With a flourish, I threw my new report down in front of him.
‘It’s all here,’ I told him. ‘I suggest you read it most carefully, along with the missive I sent. Have you troubled yourself to read that yet?’ Whereupon, taking his silence for a negative, I managed a thin smile. ‘Please do so,’ I added. ‘Meanwhile, the doctor and I will wait outside.’
It took him more than a quarter of an hour, during which time Boyd and I made ourselves comfortable in the main room of the house. During this time the Justice’s wife appeared, she who had accosted Hester in the street more than a week ago, I recalled. But when Boyd and I stood up to greet her, she disappeared with barely a nod.
‘It seems courtesy isn’t a priority in this house,’ my friend observed drily. ‘Or perhaps it’s merely because you are persona non grata here.’
I was about to make reply, but the sound of a door opening stayed me. Justice Standish stood at the entrance to his c
hamber, wearing a look which I might describe as one of angry dismay. At once, we rose to face him.
‘You had better come in here,’ he said.
TWENTY-ONE
Standish was shaken, yet he was still defiant. He now knew all that I had uncovered, though it seemed he had not yet been told of Humphreys being taken to the prison.
‘I had no knowledge of that man’s activities,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Nor of Cobbett’s?’ I asked, somewhat sharply.
‘I would swear to it.’ He glanced at Boyd, who was eying him without expression. ‘I suppose your concern, doctor, is that of the inquest once more?’ He enquired. ‘I fear you’re somewhat late in that regard…’
‘If you mean an inquest into the death of the man Berritt, sir, you’re mistaken,’ Boyd said at once. ‘I’m here to press for a new inquest into the death of Susanna Cobbett.’
Standish frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it again, whereupon I added my opinion that a new inquest into the death of Howell Rhys should also be held. But to that he shook his head again, more firmly.
‘It isn’t possible. You were there when the verdict was given – it cannot be changed.’
‘Not even in the light of new evidence? I enquired.
‘What new evidence?’ On a sudden, the man went on the attack. ‘I’ll allow you have brought grave charges against Giles Cobbett, though nothing substantial in regard to Rhys’s death. And in my opinion, you have acted beyond the law in conducting these enquiries. Once again, I must remind you that you’re no longer Justice Belstrang. Moreover, in taking Cobbett’s daughters under your roof as you have, you might incur a charge of abduction – had you not considered that?’
‘You’ve read my account of what the man did,’ I retorted. ‘Would you truly wish to return those maids to his house?’
‘I…’ to my surprise, Standish faltered. ‘What powers do I have to tell him how to treat his daughters?’ he muttered. ‘Moreover, they cannot testify against him – nor are they witnesses to the death of their sister. Your only witness, in fact, appears to be Humphreys. Hardly the most reliable sort, would you not agree?’
I caught Boyd’s eye, struggling to contain myself. Was the man about to refuse to act? It was intolerable.
‘Perhaps - but then, all other potential witnesses are either dead or have flown the coop,’ I replied. ‘Ned Berritt, Cobbett’s man Mount, who lied at the inquest-’
‘That’s enough, Belstrang,’ the Justice snapped. ‘You go too far, as always.’
‘By heaven, you’re taking Cobbett’s side,’ I exclaimed, my restraint crumbling. ‘Indeed, you’ve aided him all along, have you not? Shaped both inquests to produce verdicts of suicide, done nothing to allay rumours of witchcraft… you’re determined to see Agnes Mason convicted, and have been from the start! Now I wish I’d-’
‘Robert.’ In agitation, Boyd turned on me. ‘I urge you…’
‘No, save your breath!’
Standish was on his feet, eyes blazing, as we had faced each other in this room before. Raising a hand, he pointed it at me – and to my surprise, it shook a little.
‘Let him spew his vile accusations!’ he cried. ‘He’s eager to damage me, and has been ever since I took his place as magistrate. Is it not so, Belstrang? I dare you to deny it!’
For a moment I made no reply; the meeting had turned out as I feared, and I was at least partly to blame. Drawing a breath, I looked down at my own report, still spread out on Standish’s table… whereupon a notion flew up from somewhere, and found its way into words.
‘Perhaps I should have mentioned that there is further evidence, which I’ve chosen to withhold until now,’ I said, summoning my bland look. ‘I was hoping you might act rightly and move to arrest Cobbett, this very day. But since you appear unwilling, I’m forced to keep it to myself.’
Silence fell. Boyd’s eyes flitted from me to Standish and back while the Justice, still on his feet, was breathing hard. I could read his thoughts: was Belstrang bluffing, or…
‘You lie,’ he said at last. But he sat down, somewhat heavily.
‘I beg your pardon?’ I threw back, my heart thudding. ‘Do you truly wish to accuse me of lying? If so, I’ll have no choice but to demand satisfaction…’
‘In God’s name!’ Boyd spoke up in exasperation. ‘This has become a comedy. Duelling’s unlawful, and-’
‘So it is, in theory,’ Standish broke in, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘The King disapproves strongly, and has legislated against it. But men with a grievance can always resort to a quiet place, and settle matters between themselves.’ He turned his gaze on Boyd. ‘Perhaps you will be called upon to be this man’s witness in somewhat different circumstances?’
‘I’ll be a party to no such thing, sir,’ Boyd retorted. ‘And I confess to a deep disappointment to see two magistrates – or one magistrate and one former – demeaning themselves in this manner. We are in knowledge of terrible crimes. Can you not put rivalries aside, and look to the matter in hand?’
He paused and looked at each of us in turn. ‘I speak of justice, sirs - or had you forgotten?’
My friend fell silent, but it was enough to shame me. Then, he had oft acted as my conscience. I threw him a look of approval, and waited. The silence dragged on, but Boyd’s words had proved effectual. Somewhat chastened, Standish gazed down at my report without seeing it, then finally looked up.
‘I will set things in motion, to bring Giles Cobbett in for questioning,’ he said quietly.
‘And what of Humphreys?’ I asked.
‘He will be questioned too, of course.’
I tried not to show my relief. For there were matters yet untangled, that weighed on me still.
‘The parson, Woolland,’ I said.
‘What of him?’ Standish demanded, with a look of suspicion.
‘Do you claim you knew nothing of his activities too?’
‘Most assuredly I do.’ The man was growing angry again. ‘And are you presuming to interrogate me now? You stretch license to its limits, Belstrang…’
‘Your pardon,’ I broke in, managing to contain myself. ‘But I was somewhat surprised to see you in private conversation with the man that morning in Powick, after the inquest. Mistress Dowling was there too, as I recall.’
Another of those moments passed, in which Standish seemed to be torn between making some dry response or losing his temper. This time he chose the former.
‘Mistress Dowling is an acquaintance, nothing more,’ he said in a flat tone. ‘As for Woolland…’ he allowed a frown to appear. ‘Since you are so concerned, I will tell you in confidence. I offered him some advice: to quit his living and depart for some other place, while he still had the chance.’
I met his gaze, but saw no guile… was there even a hint of disgust? But I believed the man, which brought some further relief. If I had harboured the least suspicion that Standish too shared Woollard’s and Cobbett’s tastes, I would have struggled in vain to contain my anger.
‘Well, he has heeded your advice,’ I said. ‘He assured Mistress Cobbett that he would never be seen again.’
Standish said nothing, but sat back and lowered his gaze. On a sudden he looked tired, and in no mood for further debate. It was time to leave: I caught Boyd’s eye, and signalled assent. But there was one thing more: a burning desire that I would not leave unaired.
‘Who will you send to bring Cobbett in?’ I asked. ‘Sergeant Lisle, and others?’
‘It’s likely he will be given the order,’ he replied… whereupon he sat up sharply. ‘I hope you’re not proposing to go along too? That would seem to be a matter of vengeance, given your sympathy for Cobbett’s daughters. I cannot-’
‘Allow it?’ I broke in. ‘Well, I fail to see on what grounds you can prevent me. I’m a private citizen with an interest-’
‘Nay sir, you overstep yourself,’ Standish broke in. ‘You may in time be called as a witness, and-’
‘I will r
elish that,’ I said, becoming heated again. ‘Yet I might remind you that I spoke of certain matters known to me alone, that touch on this whole affair. One of them…’ I paused, aware of Boyd groaning under his breath, but blundered on; I was determined, and would not be gainsaid.
‘One of them is an account of certain men who have enjoyed secret stipends from Giles Cobbett, to further his aims,’ I finished. ‘I name no names – as yet.’
It was a bluff, of course; but sometimes even a Justice may be susceptible to what I term the Minatio Celata - the Veiled Threat. Standish had stiffened, struggling to appear calm, but I saw it at last.
He was in Cobbett’s pay – and he suspected that I knew it. Henceforth, I had a notion he would be more amenable to any request I might make of him; the notion gave me quiet satisfaction.
‘I will make request of you,’ I said. ‘Might I be permitted to offer support in the arrest of Giles Cobbett, when the party sets out for Ebbfield? As a former Justice myself I deem it a public duty… can we agree on that, at least?’
I waited, allowing him to read my gaze in any way he liked, until at last came the answer I sought.
‘Go, then - ride with Lisle,’ Standish said, in a voice of weariness. ‘It’s clear you mean to do so anyway, as you have striven to wear me down from the moment you arrived here. Indeed…’ he paused, nodding slowly. ‘I think in your heart you intend to take revenge on me too, by any means you can. In which case, Belstrang, you will find me equal to the match – whether it be at sword-point, or in a court of law. For now, I have business to conduct – are you content?’
My answer was a polite nod, and soon afterwards Boyd and I left his house.
It would be some time before I was in Standish’s company again. But the burr that chafed me remained, and doubtless it chafed him too. There would be a reckoning between us, some day; it was but a matter of where, and when.
TWENTY-TWO
The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) Page 16