Peace Comes to Honeyfield

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Hell fire!’ Cotterell muttered. ‘We need to stop this before they wake the village.’

  They hauled the stranger off him and Cotterell said, ‘Keep quiet, you, or I’ll knock you unconscious!’

  The moon was starting to show, though it wasn’t a full one by any means. It was enough, however, for Cotterell to recognise the man and whisper, ‘Gregory Clarke, what the hell are you doing out here?’

  Their captive froze for a moment, then grinned and got up as they let go of him. ‘Mr Cotterell. Nice to see you again, sir. I’m just helping catch one or two villains who’re trying to disturb the peace in our village. This one was lying in wait near the car, and if it’s your car, he was probably going to attack you.’

  Wally was alternately glaring at Gregory and trying to brush the worst of the mud from his clothes.

  Cotterell stepped in. ‘This one is a young relative of mine and he’s helping me out tonight.’

  ‘Ah. Sorry, lad.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what’s going on in Honeyfield,’ Cotterell said. ‘Every single detail.’ He listened carefully to the tale of strangers causing trouble and the vague plans put together by Gregory and his friends.

  ‘So my daughter is all right?’

  ‘Yessir. Mr Farrell knows what he’s doing. Good chap, he is.’

  While he was speaking, Frank appeared out of the darkness, hands held out sideways to show he came in peace.

  ‘This is Frank, sir,’ Gregory explained.

  ‘I know Frank.’

  Frank touched his hat in a gesture of respect. ‘Nice to see you again, Mr Cotterell. But we’ve caught a fellow over near the gates of Honeyfield House, a gentleman by the way he talks, who says he’s working for you, sir.’

  ‘His name?’

  ‘Jordan. He’s not feeling so good, I’m afraid. Our chap must have hit the noble captain a bit hard.’

  ‘Tell your friends to save their muscles for our enemies. They can hit them as hard as they like.’

  ‘They’ll enjoy doing that. Everyone’s a bit annoyed at having our peace disturbed.’

  ‘And rightly so. I think we need to go to Pear Tree Lane first and see whether the men I’ve been watching have managed to catch my daughter.’

  Frank chuckled. ‘They haven’t managed it. She and her friends were staying at the house next to Mr T’s, but I saw all five of them leave it earlier. They went through the orchard towards Honeyfield House.’

  ‘You’re sure of that?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I make it my business to know what other people are doing when they’re out and about after dark. I’ve kept out of the hands of the law all these years by keeping my eyes open.’

  ‘How many from the village are keeping watch tonight?’

  Frank shrugged. ‘Good few. Not sure. Ten, maybe more.’

  ‘Right. Then I have a job for you and your friends. Get to the house in Pear Tree Lane and see if you can catch the villains who’re about to attack it, thinking my daughter is still there.’

  ‘What shall we do with them?’

  ‘Tie them up, take them to the police station and hold them there. It doesn’t matter who they say they are, if they’ve tried to break into that house or hurt someone you know is decent and honest, they’re our enemies. I’ll have some people sent down from London to take them away tomorrow, but first I’ve got to catch the ringleader. I doubt he’ll be doing the dirty work tonight but I think he’ll have felt obliged to come and oversee things here, given the importance to them of getting hold of me again.’

  ‘Happy to oblige in any way we can, sir. Um, who is the ringleader, in case we bump into him?’

  ‘Not someone you know. His name’s Butterly and he’s about five foot five tall, almost completely bald and talks very softly. You stick to hunting his minions and leave him to me and my helpers. There are a few villains around, so there will be a reward for anyone who captures one of them. Ten pounds to each man involved in a capture.’

  Frank brightened. ‘That’s well worth fighting for. They won’t escape, sir. But I think I’d better come with you and let my friend here spread the word. Otherwise someone might kill you by mistake.’

  Cotterell laughed. ‘Very well. This is turning into quite a farce.’

  Mathers said sharply, ‘Farce or not, bullets can still kill you, sir, so please don’t take any chances. Frank, I want Mr Cotterell properly protected. What he’s doing is important for our country.’

  ‘Yessir.’

  Cotterell took over again. ‘Thank you, Mathers, but I usually manage to look after myself. Now let’s go and find out who they caught up at Honeyfield House, whether it really is Jordan.’

  Mathers turned to Wally. ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’

  ‘Just a few bruises. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Good lad.’

  Mathers moved forward. ‘Shall we walk there or drive, sir?’

  ‘I think we’ll drive. It might be safer to ride in a car, and anyway, I’m a bit tired. It’s been rather a hectic few days. Butterly must have had quite a few people chasing me. It kept me on my toes.’

  As they got into the car, Mathers asked, ‘Are you sure the traitor is Major Butterly, sir? He seems such a fusspot, not at all the sort to use force. And his family goes back to the Norman Conquest. They’re British to the core.’

  ‘I’m very sure of him. There are bad eggs in every basket, you know, especially if they’re paid handsomely. Butterly’s family have lost nearly all their money and land. I must say he’s been very cunning, had us all fooled for years with his fussy ways. It’s Captain Jordan I’m not quite certain about, fairly sure, but you know me: I like to be totally correct before I act.’

  ‘He came to the London house to keep an eye on your daughter.’

  ‘Yes. And he had a chance to capture her then but didn’t, so that speaks well for him.’

  ‘He hired the men looking after her, ex-soldiers who’d been invalided out. He chose well. I’d have trusted them too. No, I’d not have thought him a traitor.’

  ‘I don’t really, but I’m not taking anything for granted.’

  As they were about to set off, they heard a sound and Cotterell said quietly, ‘Don’t do anything till we see who is coming up the drive.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cole rushed into the kitchen of Honeyfield House. ‘There’s a car coming up the drive and the person isn’t trying to hide his arrival. It’s no one from round here or I’d recognise it. We’ll take care of it; you go and hide, miss. Just to be safe.’

  ‘Let’s see who it is first,’ Georgie said. ‘Where can I see the car from?’

  ‘The front drawing room, miss. This way.’

  Patrick joined them. ‘You’re still not going anywhere on your own, remember, Georgie?’

  ‘I was with Cole.’

  ‘You’re with me all the time for the moment.’

  Sal watched them leave the kitchen and looked at Rosie. ‘Men! They always leave the women out of it if they can, don’t they? Let’s go and take a peek from the dining room.’

  The car drew up and a man jumped out of the front passenger seat to hold the rear door open and allow an older gentleman to get out.

  ‘I know that man,’ Georgie said almost immediately. ‘He works with my father. He’s all right, I’m sure.’

  Patrick studied the two men who’d got out of the car. ‘Your father is chasing a traitor. I don’t think you should trust anyone.’

  ‘But Major Butterly’s been at the bureau for years. He handles all the administration and paperwork, so they must trust him absolutely.’

  ‘Nonetheless, we’ll hold back and keep an eye on him.’ There was a steely edge to his voice as he added, ‘What better position than that from which to betray his country without being suspected?’

  ‘But he—’

  Cole said quietly, ‘We can invite him in on his own and insist he leave his men outside. Then you can watch every move he makes, Mr Farrell. Just make
sure you don’t let him persuade you to leave with him, miss, whatever he says.’

  ‘This is ridiculous. I tell you, he’s well respected, dines with my father at his club regularly.’

  ‘Humour us,’ Patrick said quietly.

  ‘Oh, very well.’

  ‘I’ll let him in,’ Cole said.

  ‘No, I’ll let him in,’ Sal said from the doorway. ‘It’ll look better to have a woman at the door. You go and wait at the back of the hall, Cole. It’d look strange to have you sitting in here with Miss Cotterell.’

  ‘I’m not leaving her,’ Patrick said firmly.

  ‘Of course not.’

  The door knocker sounded loudly.

  She made a shooing motion towards Cole. ‘Go on. Get out of sight.’

  When she opened the door, she found the man who’d opened the car door for the passenger pointing a gun at her. ‘Major Butterly is here to see Miss Cotterell. Take us to her. If you want to stay alive, you’ll not move an inch from now on without my say-so, woman. And you’ll keep your mouth shut. Not even a squeak.’

  The passenger walked calmly up the steps and into the house. ‘Well, where is Miss Cotterell?’

  Sal didn’t hesitate to tell him that. There was such an icy look in the eyes of the one holding the gun that she was certain he’d kill her without hesitation. ‘Miss Cotterell is in the drawing room, sir. This way.’

  ‘And remember, if you value your life, no move without my instructions.’

  Feeling like a traitor herself, terrified they’d kill her out of hand, Sal led the way into the drawing room. There was no sign of Cole in the hall, thank goodness.

  Her husband was their only hope now.

  Patrick was standing behind Georgie’s chair, trusting in Cole and Sal to check out the visitor. Expecting only the gentleman who’d been driven here, he was first surprised, then dismayed to see two men follow Sal into the room. She was looking terrified, and no wonder, with a gun prominently displayed in the second man’s hand.

  Bitter self-blame ran through him. He had failed Georgie.

  She didn’t say a word, but stiffened and waited.

  ‘Stay where you are, both of you,’ Major Butterly said. ‘Who is this man, Miss Cotterell?’

  ‘He’s a soldier who was employed to drive me here. He was about to take his leave of me before returning home.’

  ‘Come, come. We both know that’s not true. He’s been acting as your bodyguard since you left London. I want to know where he’s from. What’s your name, fellow?’

  ‘Farrell, sir.’

  ‘Come round and stand where we can see you and do not, if you value Miss Cotterell’s life, make any move to resist.’

  Patrick moved round to the place indicated, exaggerating his limp.

  Butterly watched him with a slight frown. ‘Jordan said you’d been injured, but I’m surprised he’d employ someone who walks that badly. Probably out of sentimentality.’ He turned back to Georgie, leaving his bodyguard to keep an eye on Patrick and Sal. ‘Has your father arrived here yet, Miss Cotterell?’

  ‘My father? He’s in London. I haven’t seen him or heard from him for days.’

  He studied her as she spoke. ‘Your words have a ring of truth. But that only means he hasn’t told you he’s coming here, so I think we’ll wait for him. You, woman. Go and sit in that chair in the corner and do not move from it.’

  Sal did as he ordered, visibly shaking with terror.

  ‘I do not require you to make conversation,’ Butterly said. ‘If anyone tries to escape, my friend here will shoot to kill. And he’s a very good shot. Is that clear?’

  They all nodded.

  To Patrick’s amazement, Butterly picked up a copy of The Spectator from the table and began to read it.

  His henchman stayed by the door, still and watchful.

  Patrick felt sick to the soul for being so careless. How the hell was he going to get Georgie out of this?

  Just before the turn-off to Honeyfield House a man ran out into the road, waving at them to stop.

  ‘I know him. He’s all right,’ Frank said. ‘Hurry up and tell Mr Cotterell whatever it is you stopped us for.’

  Mathers let down the window and the man bent towards it.

  ‘You know the car that’s driven up to the big house not long ago?’

  ‘Yes. We were just about to go and find out who was in it. Did you see?’

  He nodded. ‘I have good eyesight at a distance and it’s starting to get light. Man with a scar on his cheek got out of the front and opened the back door to a bald fellow wearing posh clothes.’

  ‘Was the old fellow tall or short?’

  ‘Short.’

  ‘What colour was what’s left of his hair?’

  ‘Gingerish.’

  ‘I know him. He’s the traitor I’ve been trying to trap.’ Cotterell turned to Frank. ‘I think you’d better get out of the car here and find your own way to the big house. Have you got a gun? Good. See if you can get inside at the back without being seen and be ready to shoot the bald man or his henchman if they get away from us. Shoot to kill.’

  Frank slid quickly out of the car and set off for the trees at a loping run.

  ‘And there’s another man as says you’ll vouch for him, Mr Cotterell. We got him locked in a shed. Jordan, he says he’s called.’

  ‘Ah. I was going to check him out. Can you bring him to me?’

  The man beckoned and they brought Jordan out from some outbuildings. His eyes brightened at the sight of Cotterell.

  ‘Sir, Major Butterly’s the traitor, not me. And they tell me a car went up to the house a short time ago.’

  ‘Yes. Butterly was in it. They described him to me. He’ll be waiting for me there and I was already aware that he was the traitor. What I’m not sure about is whether you’re working with him.’

  ‘I’m damned well not!’ Jordan hesitated, then said, ‘I’ve been liaising with Torson at the Admiralty, actually, trying to find proof about Butterly. It was thought you had enough on your plate. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was ordered not to.’

  ‘Ah. You even knowing Torson’s name speaks well for you.’ Cotterell studied him. ‘You don’t look all that steady on your feet, so you’d better stay with these men until I’ve sorted things out.’

  ‘Butterly will have you killed, sir.’

  ‘He can try. But there are several other people at the house. It’s Georgie I’m most concerned about. Wait for us here.’ He looked at the man guarding Jordan. ‘This man is definitely not a traitor.’

  ‘If you say so, sir.’

  The car drove on and Jordan turned to his companion. ‘Look – Mr Cotterell is in grave danger. He might care most about saving his daughter, but our country needs him. We’ve got to go and help him, stop them killing him.’

  Frank came round the side of the shed to join them. ‘I was going up to the house, but waited to see what was happening. Let’s get right out of sight before we discuss it, then. Have you lot no more sense than to stand there in full view of anyone passing by while you work out what to do? Best we move into the woods.’

  Frank led them away from the shed and stopped behind some holly bushes. ‘This place is as good as any. Keep your voices low and tell me what you’re planning to do, Mr Jordan.’

  ‘Mr Cotterell told me to stay here but I think we should go up to the house because I reckon they’re planning to kill him. Before we do that, I need a handgun. They took mine away when they captured me. I’m a pretty decent shot and I may be of use to Cotterell in a crisis.’

  Frank gave him a thoughtful look, then felt inside his rather baggy jacket. ‘This one do? It’s my spare.’

  Jordan examined it. ‘Good gun. Expensive. How did you get hold of it?’

  Frank merely tapped the side of his nose and winked. ‘I’ll come up to the house with you. We don’t know how many of them are still on the loose.’ He turned to the other man. ‘You stay outside and if the bald man or his scarred fr
iend come out, shoot them on sight. Mr Cotterell says shoot to kill. If you’ll follow me, Mr Jordan—’

  ‘It’s Captain, actually.’

  He ignored that. ‘I know a way through the shrubbery that takes us round to the laundry door. It can be jiggled open if you know the trick of it.’

  ‘Wait a minute. What about the women who’ve taken refuge in the house? They could be used as human shields.’

  ‘They’ll have hid. Them as run the place have got a hiding place or two set up, but Sal told me some of the women have their own places too, they’re that afraid of being caught by them as have hurt ’em before. You don’t have to worry about them, but you do need to keep quiet.’

  He led the way, followed by Jordan who proved to be surprisingly good at moving quietly.

  When they got near the house, they saw the car still sitting outside the front, with a man standing beside it, looking rather nervous and holding a handgun.

  Putting one finger to his lips, Frank took them on a little detour that wound up at a one-storey addition at the rear. He grinned at Jordan, pushed the poorly fitting door a couple of times as if to get the feel of it, then bounced it slightly. He let out a pleased grunt as it jerked out of its big, old-fashioned lock.

  When they went inside they found Cole standing there with a couple of scrawny women, all three of them armed with laundry implements. At the sight of Frank they relaxed.

  ‘Have you called the police?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Daren’t make a noise. And what can Browning do, anyway? He hasn’t even got a gun like these sods have. They keep pointing one at my Sal. Thank goodness she’s had the sense to keep quiet and do as they ask.’

  Jordan asked, ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘They’re holding Miss Georgie, Mr Farrell and my Sal in the drawing room at gunpoint, threatening to kill them if they move. Sounded as if they were waiting for Mr Cotterell. I couldn’t hear what they were saying once they shut the drawing room door. I been trying to work out what to do, only I don’t want my Sal hurting.’