And Mildred was tough; poor Amy Harrington.
‘I knocked on his door. When I went in, he was sitting at his desk, yet half turned away from it, wearing a light dressing-gown instead of his usual smoking-jacket. A bluish green, it was, with a gaudy butterfly worked on the back in silks. And I can’t describe what he had on his head. I think it must have been something from his army days, but not what you ever see soldiers wearing now: a little round cap with a red button on top. He made an impatient movement with his hand to show me where to put the wine down. Then he took hold of the bottle and poured himself a glass, looked at me with the bottle still in his hand and didn’t seem able to make up his mind whether to pour some for me or not. After a little pause, he did fill the other glass, but he did not offer it to me. Instead, he said to me, “Mildred – it is Mildred, isn’t it?” He knew my name perfectly well, of course, but sometimes used to pretend that he’d forgotten it. “Mildred,” he said, “I want you to go over and look at that picture. The one in the second alcove from the left. Peter de Wint: Postmill near Cowbit.” I did as he asked, and I can’t say that I thought very much of it: a windmill and a flat countryside. In fact, the picture looked nearly all sky to me. “Now tell me what you can see,” he said. “No, don’t look round. Don’t look round. I want to see the way the light catches your hair while you talk to me.” You know what his voice is like, don’t you, Sergeant Brunt, always very soft and smooth and careful, but you feel all the time that he’s going to break out any moment and start shouting you down?
‘“Go on – tell me what you can see.”
‘But there was no story in the thing – nothing that you could possibly find to talk about. “It looks as if it’s going to rain,” I said, and he didn’t make any reply to that at all. I stood stock still, frightened to disobey him about moving, and then I heard him breathing close behind me – I hadn’t heard him come across the room. And then I jerked my head. I just couldn’t help it.
‘“Stand still!” he shouted, as if he had a troop of soldiers on the barrack square. And then I heard him turn and go back to his desk. I did turn round then, and all the fear and stiffness seemed to have gone out of me. Because he was simply behaving in a silly fashion, and there were limits to what I was prepared to put up with. I thought he was going to continue to be angry, and I was only going to half listen to what he said – but he was hardly looking at me now. He picked up his glass and finished what was in it, and the one that had been meant for me just stood untouched.
‘When he did speak again, it was quite quietly. “All right, Mildred,” he said. “You can go now.” And I did. It seemed a long walk back across that room. And when I got the door shut behind me, and was out in that long corridor again, I felt just as I had done on Gloucester station when I heard that guard’s whistle.’
Outside the cottage a man walked by in studded boots. A neighbour’s hens were cackling half-heartedly. A plover in the fields was calling stridently.
‘The next day, Mrs Palfreyman said to me, “You didn’t do very well with the Captain last night, Mildred.”
‘Well, what was I to do? I’ll tell you this, Sergeant Brunt, I think that Captain Kingsey could have done whatever he wanted with me, if only he’d been a little different. I’d have given in to him, I feel sure I would, if only there hadn’t been something about him that I can’t explain. I mean – he isn’t unpleasant to look at. He’s a lot older than me, but he isn’t disgustingly old. I thought he was the sort of man who would do his best not to hurt me. But there was something about him that I couldn’t be sure of – as if he was suddenly going to do something terrible, something you couldn’t possibly be expecting. Like when he suddenly shouted behind me, only very much worse – something out of this world.’
She brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. In her rocking-chair the old woman looked completely calm. Could she hear a word that was being said?
‘I know it must sound nonsense, but I can’t make it any plainer. It might have been easier if I’d let myself go his way from the start. But for one thing, I wasn’t going any man’s way without some sort of understanding first. And for another, there was no way of knowing what he really did want. Oh! If he’d only wanted that.’
Mildred was suddenly contemptuous.
‘I knew that sooner or later I was expected to be taken to his bed: but only after he’d gone through a whole lot of things first in his own mind – and I was expected in some way to help him through them – without having the least idea what they were. In some ways I’d almost given in to the notion. I didn’t want to. And yet I didn’t want not to – not as powerfully as I always had before, if I can make you understand me. But then there was the thought, never far from the top, of what was going to happen after that. Marriage, of course, didn’t come into the question – quite apart from the fact that I wouldn’t have fancied it, anyway, not with his way of life. And there’d have been other people with something to say about that, not forgetting Mrs Palfreyman. Then there was the thought that he might get me with a child. That was something that wanted a bit of consideration: I didn’t just dismiss it out of hand. It can sometimes be made to work quite well, carrying a bastard for the likes of the Captain. But I came down with a big No to that one in the end; too many things I couldn’t be sure of.
‘Then I knew full well that I was not the first and not going to be the last. And once we were over the hump, perhaps it wasn’t going to last long. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Fletcher was already on his travels again. And I rather thought he’d be wanting a companion for his homeward journey, if only to carry his pictures for him. So what happened to the Captain’s girls when he had finished with them? Somehow, I didn’t fancy Fletcher’s company, outward bound.’
Brunt had desisted from taking notes while she was talking. But there were some points that he was desperately anxious not to forget. There’d have been other people with something to say about that, not forgetting Mrs Palfreyman. And might Fletcher have cast off outward bound with Amy Harrington for company?
‘Two nights passed, and the Captain did not call for me. The last encounter had shaken me up, and I didn’t settle down straight away back into the ding-dong of kitchen life. I was just beginning to feel my feet again when Mrs Palfreyman came in and nodded knowingly.
‘“The Captain wants to see you.”
‘I looked expectantly at the butler.
‘“No wine tonight. It’s only company he wants.”
‘I don’t know how I didn’t mutiny. Just for a second or two, I thought I was going to. Then Mrs Palfreyman came and put her hand on my sleeve.
‘“There’s no need to be afraid of him tonight.”
‘So I went back along that corridor. And the Captain smiled at me as I came in. He was still wearing the bluey-green dressing-gown and the hat with the red button; and he was smoking a long pipe with a porcelain bowl and a green tassel. He took it and hung it in a rack when I came in, saw my eyes straying over towards his pictures, particularly the windmill scene.
‘“No – I don’t think we’ll do a tour of the gallery tonight. I don’t want to be told that the weather doesn’t look very promising for a picnic. Go and look out of the window.”
‘I was pretty near to rebelling, but he spoke very persuasively, though not exactly pleading. It was rather as if he were asking for something quite ordinary, like a glass of water or a slice of lemon in his tea.
‘“Please do as I ask, Mildred. You really do have it in you to give me very great pleasure.”
‘So I went to the window and looked out over the trees.
‘“Keep as still as you can,” he said, “but not so still as to make yourself uncomfortable. I promise I won’t shout at you tonight. I just want to look at you. The back of your head really is beautiful. I ought to have stood you there last time, instead of in front of the de Wint.”
‘I heard him come up behind me, and I felt my head and neck trembling with the effort of keeping them
still. But he did not say anything. He came closer and I could smell the tobacco, still on his breath, over my shoulder. Then he put his arms round my waist, hands down on my thighs. I felt my body stiffen.
“You really aren’t relaxed at all, are you?” he said.
‘I could feel him behind me, pulling me close to himself. His hands were caressing the silk of my dress, moulding the shape of my legs, his thumbs on the inside.
‘“Not relaxed at all.”
‘I wriggled out of his hands – and he held out both arms, wide, letting me go – a gesture to show me that I was as free as I wanted to be. He went to a little cupboard set into one of his book-cases.
‘“I hope you don’t want to go already? You’ll stay for a liqueur? I won’t touch you again. I’ll wait for you to touch me.”
‘And I could have done, so very easily. I could have pulled at the knot in the cord of his dressing-gown and watched it fall open in front of him.
‘“I think I’d better go now,” I said. He nodded as if he understood perfectly.
‘“I won’t call for you again, Mildred. I’ll wait for you to call on me. You know I’m alone here every evening after nine o’clock.”
‘I felt at first as if I had just got rid of a heavy load. I didn’t ever have to come back to this room, if I didn’t want to. Did I say ever? How long was Captain Kingsey’s patience going to hold out? His patience wasn’t natural, anyway; he isn’t naturally a patient man. How long was he going to put up with me living off the fat of the land in his kitchen, not pulling my weight with his other servants? What was going to happen to me when Fletcher came back with a fresh find? I was drawn to that long corridor, and yet I hardly dared put my foot in it. I could make you a drawing of that study door – from the outside. I can remember every nail in it, every stud. Sometimes I had to struggle not to knock on it. But after all that, what?
‘“If I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting too long.”
‘That was Mrs Palfreyman, all patience too. She knew stage by stage exactly what was happening.
‘In the end, I did go through the door. I knocked, and he looked up hopefully, but finished something he was writing before he spoke.
‘“Sir,” I said, “I want to go away from here.”
‘“You do, do you?”
‘I expected him to bellow at me, but he stayed calm.
‘“Yes. I had hardly expected this, but I must agree that it is probably the best solution. Your stay here has not worked out either to your satisfaction or mine, has it?”
‘“No, sir.”
‘And then he changed his tone completely. He became really acid.
‘“And may I ask where you propose to establish yourself as an honoured and non-contributory guest? Of what club next do you propose to make yourself a country member?”
‘“There is an inn in the village,” I said. “I thought I might go along and see if they could use another pair of hands.”
‘And for some reason – he is not a man you can say that you even begin to understand – he seemed to accept this. He calmed down again at once.
‘“Yes, I think that is a good idea,” he said. “A very good idea indeed.”
‘So I went to The Crooked Rake, but it wasn’t all quite plain sailing. Mrs Nadin quite wanted me, but Nadin didn’t. He called me one of the Captain’s cast-offs and didn’t want to have anything to do with me at first. He was sure that Kingsey would get at him in some way. That was why he was so terribly worried when you arrived. He didn’t want the Rake connected with the Hall. But when I said that I would work for them without wages …’
‘You’ve been working at The Crooked Rake …?’
‘For my keep. And to get a character.’
She got up and began to carry the tea-cups over to the old woman’s sink. Mrs Hallum signalled to her to leave them for the time being.
‘Of course, I know that what really interests you is Amy Harrington. But I don’t think I can be of any help to you. I never knew the girl. I never spoke to her. I know that she’s no longer at the Hall, but no one saw her leave. I know that Fletcher set out on his travels the day she is supposed to have gone. But he went alone. I saw him go down the valley. I did set eyes on her just once – when Fletcher brought her into the Rake while he had a quick drink, the day he first brought her up the Clough. You can guess I was dead keen to see who was going to step into my shoes. And I said to myself: Mrs Palfreyman’s going to have to do a fair job of work on this one before she’s allowed to carry a tray of wine into the study. I’m not saying that she was bad looking – something might be made of her. But she certainly did not look the type. Fletcher once told me that he never makes mistakes, but he’s made one there, I said to myself. She looked so serious – and she’d such a distant look in her eyes. She didn’t even sit near Fletcher while she waited for him to finish his beer. She seemed to be trying to make it look as if she didn’t belong to him. And I thought to myself, if it didn’t work with me, God knows how it’s going to work with her. But you can never tell for certain, can you, some of these angelic looking types …’
Brunt left the cottage shortly after that and on his way to call at the inn, in case Potter was waiting to be picked up there, he ran into one of Thos Beresford’s wives, the little fat one with the smile.
‘Oh, Sergeant Brunt, we’ve all seen where you’ve lodged the young lady, and what a relief it is to the whole village to know that something really is going to be done at last. But why ever didn’t you bring her to stay with us? My sister and I would have been overjoyed to have her. We have much more room than Jenny Hallum – and she could talk to us. For years now, it’s been a disgrace, the things that have been going on at that Hall.’
‘It’s scandalised you all, I’m sure,’ Brunt said. ‘But it’s taken long enough for an inkling of it to trickle to the outside world.’
‘But we’ve all been so afraid, Sergeant. And this always has been a village to keep itself to itself. But Beresford always has carried on about the things that the Captain gets up to. That last girl – the miner’s daughter – he was most concerned about her.’
‘Since when?’ Brunt asked.
‘You’d better ask Beresford.’
‘I shall. Of that there’s no doubt.’
‘But don’t make it sound so frightening, Sergeant Brunt. We’re all on your side. The whole village is on your side. My sister and I are just about to call all the women together.’
It wanted just something like that. If Brunt needed any impulse to get the case settled, here was a new one.
Chapter Thirteen
First there was Nadin to be tolerated.
‘No offence meant,’ he said.
‘If you’re waiting for me to say None taken, I just can’t be bothered. You’re a fool, Nadin.’
‘All I’ve ever tried to do is to keep trouble away from this house.’
‘And other people’s troubles haven’t concerned you.’
‘Let bygones be bygones, Sergeant Brunt. You’ve got this village on your side.’
‘Yes, now. And Until.’
‘Until? I don’t know what you mean – until.’
‘Until someone finds he’s going to have to be the first to clack on a mate.’
‘Kingsey’s got no mates in this pub,’ Nadin said.
‘And what do you know about Kingsey?’
‘Only what Mildred told my wife.’
‘Leaving me to waste forty-eight hours finding that all out for myself. Come along, Albert, before I spew into this spittoon.’
Brunt did not attempt to outline his morning’s discoveries to Potter. It would have taken too long and Potter would have needed too many things said twice.
‘We’ll go and see what we can find in Brindley’s, and then we’ll go and talk to the great collector.’
‘Of stolen art?’
‘Of virgins. Maybe it gratifies the same sort of urge. Unique possession.’
They stumped up to Brind
ley’s Quarter, Brunt walking almost too fast for the older man. But Potter panted alongside without complaint. He had collected gear – Brunt did not ask him where – and had dumped it on a corner of the pile of waste outside the mine: hurricane lamps, paraffin, ropes, a crow-bar, candles and two balls of twine. But before they entered the mine, Brunt insisted on leaping up to the warren above, to see whether anything had happened yet to the abandoned traps. He was too far ahead to hear Potter trying to save him the trouble.
‘I was up there first thing this morning, Sergeant: there was still a rabbit, a cat and a hen.’
But when Brunt reached the warren, he found no sign of the carcases: the traps had been freshly reset, their spring-arm newly greased. He immobilised one of them, tugged it out of its anchorage.
‘Thos can take a hint. He must have been up here very early.’
‘Not early.’ Potter repeated his own findings.
‘Somebody else, then. I watched Thos down the Clough during my dawn ramble.’
Brunt pulled up the other two traps.
‘We’ll sequestrate these, Albert. Make long ears in the Rake for who misses them.’
Then they were walking down the side of the fissure, lighting their lamps in the lee of the mine entrance, lowering their heads and scraping their shoulders against the walls. Brunt led the way, through the puddle that covered the first few yards. Their boots slipped on the ordure of the bats. The lights from their storm-lanterns showed up Brindley’s pick-marks. A nest of baby spiders scurried away over the stones.
But there was no other sign that the place had been visited by any other human agency within living memory: indeed, why should anyone ever think to come in here, except out of passing curiosity, or to shelter from a shower?
Gamekeeper's Gallows Page 10