Children of Fire

by Paul CW Beatty

  ‘Yes,’ said Peter.

  ‘Good. I will repeat my question, why did you say she would never kiss “any man”?’

  The expression on Peter’s face was one of agony. ‘Because I have tried and always she has rebuffed me. She cannot stand to be kissed by me, or even touched by me!’

  ‘You did not say “me” you said “any man”. How do you know that is true?’

  ‘Tell me if she has ever kissed you, or was that just hot air to make me fighting mad?’

  Josiah paused. He couldn’t think of any advantage of continuing the illusion that Rachael had shown him physical affection she had denied Peter. He decided to tell the truth.

  ‘No I have never kissed her. I have tried but she has rebuffed me as well. We have common ground after all.’

  Josiah noticed a slight smile appear and as quickly disappear on Peter’s lips. Poor fool, he thought. All it takes is one admission from me to rekindle his hope that one day she will turn back to him and away from me. We are all too easily comforted by the discomfort of others. We are all fools in the court of love.

  ‘I want to turn to another issue. What do you know of Rachael’s relationship with Elijah before they came to Long Clough?’

  ‘You mean what happened in Liverpool?’

  ‘Yes, about how they met?’

  ‘Not much?’

  ‘Come now, Peter. You and Rachael were an important part of Elijah’s inner circle and closest to him. You have admitted that you love her. I find it very hard to believe that you never discussed Rachael’s life before she came here.’ Josiah circled Peter again.

  ‘Not in detail.’

  ‘Will you swear to that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Even if I tell you that I know? I know about Aunty and the opium when Rachael was only eight and alone in the world without protection.’ Josiah pressed on, pacing up and down a bit more quickly. ‘I know about the organised begging.’

  Peter shook his head, surprised. ‘No you cannot. She would never tell you.’

  ‘I know what else Aunty sold in her house near the docks.’ Peter went to get up but Michael had anticipated him and a large hand on his shoulder, returned Peter to his seat.

  Josiah stepped forward, bent down and looked Peter in the eye with his face no more than a hand’s span from Peter’s.

  ‘I know, Peter,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No!’ Peter wailed. ‘No! She swore she would not tell anyone else.’

  ‘If it is any comfort, I do not think she ever envisaged having to tell anyone else.’

  ‘Before she met you!’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  Peter hung his head and covered his face with his hands. Josiah watched, feeling sympathy despite their rivalry.

  Slowly Peter looked up. ‘Is that why you suspect me of Elijah’s murder?’

  Josiah resumed pacing. ‘You must admit that the childhood abuse of the woman you love, by a man you respected, such that she cannot respond to any sort of physical expression of your affection, is a very strong motive for murder. Especially, when today and on Pulpit Rock you showed how jealous, hot-headed and violent you can be in defence of your affections towards Rachael.’

  Peter looked stunned as the logic of Josiah’s statement sank in.

  ‘But let us move on again,’ said Josiah. ‘Do you know a man called McBrinnie?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The farrier at Mr Hailsworth’s mine?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Our horse badly damaged a rear hoof during the winter. We did our best to stop it being infected, with poultices and the like, but it got worse and worse. Eventually the hoof cracked almost in two. A horrible green pus started to ooze out of it and she was so lame she could not bear any weight on that leg. All she could do was lie in her stall. We were frightened she would die.

  ‘I was going to Marple one day when I met Mr Hailsworth’s coachman on an errand. We fell to talking and I mentioned the problem with our horse. He suggested I ask McBrinnie if he could do anything.’

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘Yes he was very good about it. He came down here the following Sunday to look at the hoof. He cut out the infected tissue, sealed the wound with a hot iron and then closed up the crack by nailing the halves together. He sealed it with some pitch and secured the lot with a new horseshoe. He said the damage had most likely been done by a slip on a patch of ice. So he put some special nails into the new shoe and into the shoe on the other rear leg. He said they would help her feet grip on slippery ground.’

  Josiah glanced at Michael. He had stopped smoking. Josiah felt in his pocket and pulled out a nail from Pulpit Rock.

  ‘Were the nails the same as this one?’ He handed it to Peter.

  ‘Yes, it was, how strange that you,’ his voice tailed off. ‘Where did you get this one?’

  ‘Pulpit Rock. I am surprised you didn’t notice them when you took Elijah down. It is one of the ones used in the murder.’

  Peter went pale.

  ‘Did McBrinnie leave any spares behind?’

  ‘Yes. He left me six. We don’t do much smithying but he showed me how to replace any that broke off before the hoof was completely healed. He wanted the horse to work, when she could, to help encourage the growth of a new hoof.’

  ‘Do you have any left?’

  ‘No I had to use them all. In the spring the old broken part of the hoof fell away and was replaced by new growth. It’s not quite grown back yet but it is sound and it doesn’t seem to hurt her anymore.’

  ‘And the used nails?’

  ‘They got thrown away when she had new shoes fitted a month or so ago.’

  ‘Was that when the idea of the crucifixion came to you, when you had the old nails in your hands? Maybe it wasn’t then but while you were raising the new cross above Pulpit Rock? Perhaps it was just a delusion up to that point, a daydream of revenge but when the cross was there then it gradually dawned on you that murder could be made to look like religious fanaticism as well as providing an opportunity for sweet, violent revenge on the man who had dashed all your hopes of happiness.’

  ‘No I never did anything of the sort! I never would, as God is my witness!’

  ‘It would be better to confess now, if you are lying.’

  ‘No, I will not confess to something I have not done. In any case did you not say at the inquest that Elijah was killed by two people?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Then who do you propose was my accomplice?’

  ‘One other person has as direct a motive for revenge as you.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The person that Elijah first abused.’

  Again Josiah watched as the logic sunk into Peter’s mind. ‘You cannot mean Rachael?

  You must admit she would have a motive.’

  28

  Waiting and Watching

  Josiah sat in the courtyard and waited. He was tense, but his mind was resolved. This had been necessary, and whilst he recognised that it ruined any sort of future friendship with Rachael, it was his duty and could not be shirked.

  She was sitting a few yards to his left with Peter and some other members of the community. She was upset but, like Josiah, in control, hands folded in her lap.

  They had been waiting for over an hour; as occasional noises from the house suggested how the search was proceeding. It was clearly an extremely thorough search. Judging by all the clanging, Brother James and Michael had spent a goodly time checking all the pots and pans in the kitchen. At one point a sweep’s brush had appeared through the top of one of the chimneys, complete with a puff of soot. The barns, the chapel and even the field-walls near the house and in the paddock had been scrutinised. But now it was quiet and it crossed Josiah’s mind that Michael and James were d
eciding if anywhere else needed attention.

  The same idea had struck all those who waited because they were all still and quiet, their eyes fixed on the door from the house into the courtyard.

  It seemed a very long time ago, though it was only yesterday afternoon, that Michael and Josiah had watched as Peter walked off back to Long Clough after the questioning at the sawmill. Even from the back, he had looked dejected, and occasionally, as Michael had predicted, he shook his right arm, trying to get some life back into it.

  ‘Do you think I am right to let him go?’ Josiah said.

  Michael puffed on his pipe. ‘He’s very jealous of you, there’s no doubt about that, and he’s a real hot-head. I think you were right to have my help on hand.’

  ‘Thank you for responding so quickly to my note.’

  ‘You’re welcome, lad. I was glad I was here. I think he could well have killed you if you’d been alone. You goaded him as well as any Dublin drunk looking for a fight after the pubs have shut.’

  Josiah rubbed his ribs. ‘I couldn’t help thinking you could have been a bit quicker when he had me fixed in that hug.’

  Michael grinned. ‘Well the way I look at it, you both had something to get out of your systems. But in your case, it might make you a bit more cautious in using a technique like that to get information out of a suspect. When did Josiah Ainscough, the well thought of and reliable Methodist preacher, become so reckless?’

  Indeed, though Josiah exactly when. ‘About the time Rachael told me about Liverpool.’

  ‘First time is it, lad?’

  ‘Not exactly, but she was my ideal, Michael: a good, practical and faithful girl. A girl to sooth my pains and ease my doubt,’ And assuage my feeling of guilt, he thought.

  Michael laid his hand on Josiah’s shoulder. ‘First love is the worst and the best. You have a very bad case of it, as you well brought up sheltered boys often do. I can’t do much for you there, except to say time heals.’

  ‘Thank you, my friend.’

  ‘Welcome as ever, lad.’ Michael paused and then returned to his practical self. ‘Well I can’t help your heart but I can do something to improve your fighting skills if you want to take advantage of the experiences of my misspent youth. I could show you some tricks that aren’t exactly fair but they are effective and will help keep you safe in a tight corner.’

  Josiah smiled. ‘I will take you up on the offer when we are back in Stockport.’ He looked again at Peter’s receding figure. ‘At present the question is whether he is guilty?’

  ‘Do I gather that the nails and his knowing the farrier McBrinnie was a surprise?’

  ‘I knew McBrinnie was the source of the nails, though it was good to have Peter’s story confirm it. Now we know that Peter had some of those nails, his guilt is more likely.’

  Michael took a big thoughtful draw on his pipe. ‘What about Sister Rachael?’

  ‘I admit she has motive as well but.’

  ‘Come now, lad, don’t let love cloud your judgment.’

  ‘I doubt if she would have the strength required. It took two men one on each block and tackle to get Elijah down.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have had to do the heaving, just be strong enough to hold one at a time as Peter went backwards and forwards between them lifting the body gradually.’

  ‘Sounds terribly a clumsy method. Why not use block and tackle you can lock off?’ said Josiah.

  ‘Could McBrinnie and Peter have been partners?’ asked Michael.

  ‘McBrinnie would have to share Peter’s motive which seems very unlikely. Surely Peter would not have told us about having the nails from McBrinnie if they had been partners.’

  ‘What you need lad, is a direct piece of evidence, an object or piece of information that only the murderer could have.’

  Josiah had chuckled. ‘There is one. At least I think there’s one. The shirt Elijah had on the night he was killed is missing. I found all his other clothes in the woodpile store I told you about but the shirt was not with them.’

  ‘Why do you think the murderer has it? Couldn’t it just have been destroyed during the murder?

  ‘Whoever it was kept everything else, they didn’t even bother to clean them. Maybe the murderer took it as some sort of macabre trophy.’

  ‘Or as proof for someone else that he had killed Elijah?’ mused Michael.

  ‘Who would need such proof? No one local that’s for sure; they would know Elijah was dead because of the gossip, the inquest and the reports in the papers, all of which are much better proofs of the death than a torn, bloody shirt that could have come from anywhere. But in someone’s hands whose already a suspect it would be enough for a hanging. In the case of Peter and Rachael it’s the only thing that can confirm their guilt but without it I would have to follow my instincts and look elsewhere for the murderer.’

  ‘Can you search for it at the farm?’

  ‘I suppose we must. But I think I’ll sleep on it before I make a final decision.’

  Off and on last night, in the fitful spaces between sleep, Josiah had tried to decide if he could bring himself to search Rachael’s clothes and other personal possessions. The idea was repugnant to him. There was a practical problem as well, which he had not thought of initially. Though he had been living in the community for over a fortnight he had no idea if its members had any personal possessions, let alone where they might keep them.

  As a result he had been sitting in the courtyard for some time that morning, trying to work out an acceptable plan as how to search for Elijah’s shirt, when he heard the determined stride of an angry Rachael coming down the corridor from the kitchen. He had tried to escape but he was not quick enough.

  ‘Stay there, Josiah! I wish to speak with you.’

  ‘Of course, Sister Rachael. It would be a pleasure.’ He had tried to smile but thought it had probably been rather forced and unconvincing of his sincerity.

  ‘When you have heard what it is about, I doubt you will find it any sort of pleasure.’ She hurried up to him.

  ‘I have only just seen Peter this morning, or more specifically I have just seen the condition of the bruises on his face, especially his nose. He was reluctant at first to say how he had got them, giving me some cock and bull story about falling over when chopping wood out at the sawmill. In the end I forced an explanation out of him. He said he was given them by you when the pair of you were fighting over my affections. Is that true?’

  Josiah looked her in the eye. ‘I did give him the injuries in a fight and I made him fight me by goading him about my affections for you. That much is true.’

  ‘How dare you! On many occasions in my life I found situations when I have doubted the common sense of men folk, when I have found your race doing or acting in ways that were degrading, pointless or worse. But this is the first time I have been fought over by idiots like you two!’

  ‘Rachael please let me explain.’

  ‘Let you explain! Explain! What possible explanation is there for either your or Peter’s actions?’

  Rachael paused for breath before launching another salvo of criticism, allowing Josiah time to speak. ‘Please, Rachael, I had a very serious reason for my actions.’ She paused and he continued. ‘I admit it may have been a bad way to proceed but it was only because I could not think anything better.’

  ‘I beg your pardon! Are you trying to tell me that there was some sort of higher motive for you instigating a brawl with Peter?’

  ‘I suppose I am, though I know it must sound a pretty thin sort of excuse.’

  ‘That is a grave understatement.’

  ‘I deliberately goaded him into a fight in the hope that when angry he might let slip evidence to support a suspicion I had come to as a result of my investigation into Elijah’s death.’

  Rachael frowned. ‘A suspicion about Peter?’

&n
bsp; ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you telling me that you suspect Peter of being involved in Elijah’s death.’

  ‘In short, yes.’

  ‘But that is impossible. Peter loved and respected Elijah, he would never have done anything to hurt him.’

  ‘It was in fact you who gave me the initial cause for my suspicion.’

  ‘How could I?’

  ‘You said, when we talked about your feelings towards me, that there was only one other person who knew about what happened between you and Elijah in Liverpool when you were a little girl.’

  ‘And you decided that must be Peter?’

  ‘I thought it highly likely. I knew from your reaction to my affection that you would have rebuffed him as well and you have to admit Peter is a man who is easily angered. I thought he might focus his disappointment on the person who had blighted his chances of happiness by abusing you.’

  ‘That is still ridiculous. If you suspect Peter for that reason you might just as well suspect me. My hopes of happiness in marriage hang by a thread, as do those of any man in love with me.’ Then she had paled, staggered a little and sat down on the edge of the water trough to stop herself fainting.

  ‘For the love of God, say you do not suspect me.’

  Josiah felt as if he had been hit in the stomach. He took a deep breath. ‘I do suspect you.’

  ‘Josiah, I will make any affidavit, take any oath, in any way you require that I had no hand in killing Elijah.’

  ‘Unfortunately, it needs more than an oath from both of you to clear my mind of this suspicion.’

  ‘Then we are lost, for how can anyone prove they have not done something?’

  ‘In the absence of a confession, the law demands evidence, something to connect a suspect to the crime. There is something that I believe is in the possession of Elijah’s murderer that would provide such a link. I would like to search Peter’s and your possessions and in fact Long Clough in general for this piece of evidence. If I do not find it, then I cannot sustain my suspicion of either of you and I will be satisfied you are both innocent.’