‘It never crossed my mind he was in danger!’
Lavender paused again. Her distress at his accusation seemed genuine and her story plausible enough, based on what he knew of Sculthorpe’s character. He could picture the greedy old man forcing her to hand over her mushrooms.
It would be hard to prove her guilt in court, despite her obvious motive to rid herself of the old man. Her lawyer could easily argue that Sculthorpe’s poisoning was accidental and self-inflicted. If he pursued this line of inquiry and arrested her, her bigamy would become common knowledge and the charge against her might come to nothing. In addition to this, the three men who later attacked Sculthorpe would face the lesser charges of burglary and assault. Did they deserve that? Common sense told him to let sleeping dogs lie but his innate sense of fairness was bothered by the thought that Judith Wallace should completely escape justice.
‘Detective.’ She leant forward and stared up at him earnestly. ‘I am a bigamist. Yes. I confess to that and I will accept whatever you decide to do with the information – but I am not a murderess!’
An idea formed in Lavender’s mind. There was always more than one way to skin a rabbit.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Thursday 8th March, 1810
Rockingham Castle, Northamptonshire
Footmen showed Lavender back to the gloomy Panel Room of the castle. Lady Anne Fitzwilliam sat alone by the crackling fire in the huge medieval stone fireplace. There was no sign of her companion Erskine, and Lavender was grateful for that. He bowed politely to the dowager countess as the footmen left him alone with her.
‘Well, Lavender,’ said the old lady. ‘I understand congratulations are in order. Most of the county’s villains now wallow in Northampton gaol thanks to you.’
Lavender smiled. He wasn’t surprised that word had already reached Lady Anne about his exploits the day before. Lavender wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t have a small network of spies all over the local countryside. He remembered how she had accused him of an arrogant disrespect for the law at their first meeting and his smile broadened as he recognised the irony of her words. Despite her age and fragility, this woman wasn’t afraid to interfere in the natural order of the world if she felt it was the right thing to do. She was the one with an arrogant disrespect for the law. He smiled again. Had she recognised in him a kindred soul?
‘These men – the army deserter, the labourer and the cobbler – are you convinced they are the ones who attacked William Sculthorpe?’
‘They are indeed, ma’am.’
‘Then you have done well. Pray, take a seat and tell me how you came to this conclusion and resolved the mystery.’ Her arthritic hand waved him towards the chair opposite to hers.
He sat down and briefly explained how he had discovered that Sculthorpe was a Catholic priest and how his inquiries had taken him back to London. Her sharp, dark eyes watched him closely while he spoke but her face registered no surprise when he talked of Sculthorpe’s disgrace and his predisposition for blackmailing his neighbours. Of course she wasn’t surprised, he realised. She knew all this already. The only time she raised her white eyebrows was when he mentioned his appointment with the Vicar Apostolic of London.
‘Bishop Douglass agreed to see you?’
‘Yes,’ Lavender said, ‘and he gave me access to some of the Chapel registers too.’
‘That was very helpful of him.’ No emotion passed over her pale, wrinkled face. No alarm registered in her eyes. ‘I have left your payment with my footman. You may collect it on your way out.’
Was this a dismissal? Lavender sat up straighter and returned her unblinking stare.
‘In fact, Lady Anne, during the course of my inquiries I have solved several other mysteries besides the murder of William Sculthorpe.’
‘You have?’ The room was hot. In the silence that followed he was conscious of the ticking of the exquisite ormolu clock on the mantelpiece.
‘Yes. For example, I know the truth about young Billy Sculthorpe, the murdered man’s son.’
A muscle spasmed in the skin of her sagging neck and she swallowed painfully. ‘What is it you think you know, Detective?’
‘I know he is William, Viscount Milton, your grandson, and that he is the real heir to the earldoms of Fitzwilliam and Rockingham.’
Lady Anne gave an unladylike snort and pushed herself further back into the cushions of her bath chair. ‘Ridiculous!’
‘Is it?’ Lavender asked. ‘Billy Sculthorpe was born on the same day that, according to the records, the infant William, Viscount Milton, was born and died. There is also the matter of the great favour William Sculthorpe once did for you. You told me yourself that you were indebted to the man for some great service. I believe that Sculthorpe, along with Bridget Ahearn – whom I assume was a wet nurse – took care of the unfortunate child virtually from its birth.’
‘What nonsense you talk, Lavender!’
‘I assume you were at the birth of your first grandson, at Parkside House on that hot July day?’ She gave no response. ‘Billy’s deformities would have been obvious from the moment he first appeared and this would have caused incredible distress to yourself and his parents. After all, he was their firstborn son, their heir. I assume you turned to Father William Sculthorpe for comfort, advice and help, despite his recent disgrace and ejection from the British Catholic priesthood.’
Lavender paused and waited. He expected Lady Anne to rebut his accusation again but she didn’t. She sat silently in her bath chair, watching him closely. He sensed that she wanted to find out what else he knew and she watched him for his judgement, his reaction.
‘Billy’s birth was an absolute disaster for the Fitzwilliam family,’ he continued. ‘The child would never lead a normal life. If he survived until adulthood he would never be able to run the family estates or take his place in the House of Lords, the Privy Council or in the ruling elite of the country as your son had done. It would have been better for everyone else if Billy had died – but he didn’t. The child was deformed – but otherwise healthy. Someone formed a plan to “remove” Billy from public sight and fake his death.’
‘Do you have any proof to support this wild accusation, Detective?’
He didn’t, and the elderly, white-haired woman before him knew it. She was now the only living witness to the child’s abduction twenty-five years ago.
‘Was it your idea to pretend the child had died – or did William Sculthorpe suggest it, I wonder?’
He paused again but Lady Anne remained silent.
‘I don’t know how this trick was executed – or if the earl and countess are party to the deception . . .’
‘They’re not.’ The words poured out of her mouth in a torrent. ‘My son and Lady Charlotte know nothing of Billy Sculthorpe’s existence.’
Ah, he had found her weakness: her son.
‘Father William – I mean, Sculthorpe – fetched the body of a dead infant from the poorhouse,’ she continued. ‘We swapped the two babies and smuggled the live one out of the house. No one noticed. No one wanted to look at the cretin in his coffin.’
She paused in order to catch her breath. When she spoke again, her voice was hard as iron. ‘There, Detective, you have your confession. Although I will strenuously deny to everyone – so help me God – that this conversation ever took place.’
‘Please continue,’ Lavender said. ‘I want to know what happened next.’
‘Everyone was distressed when I announced the child’s “death” but they were relieved too. My son and Lady Charlotte had another son the following year, a healthy baby boy. He is now Charles, Viscount Milton. ’ She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. ‘I don’t know what you intend to do with this information, Lavender, or what you think you can do . . . but I have never regretted for one moment the decision I made. God was testing us that night – and I believe I carried out his will. Father William assured me that God would smile kindly on our actions. That this was the best course to take for the child,
for my son and for the earldom . . . God would understand.’
‘And at the same time, the disgraced priest guaranteed himself a decent income for the rest of his life.’ Lavender struggled to keep the cynicism out of his voice. ‘You paid Sculthorpe and Bridget Ahearn ten pounds a month for the last twenty-five years to secretly take care of your grandson.’
She frowned. ‘You may mock him, Lavender, but Father William was a good man – a special man. He was fallible like the rest of us, yes – but essentially in his heart he was a good Christian. His selfless service to me will have redeemed him in the eyes of God. He will sit at the Lord’s right hand again.’
‘I doubt his blackmail victims will share your confidence in that,’ Lavender said.
Lady Anne turned away and stared into the crackling flames of the fire. She doesn’t want to know about the seedier side of Sculthorpe, Lavender realised. She wants to remember Sculthorpe as the charismatic priest she knew in her youth.
‘The child wasn’t supposed to live,’ she said wistfully. ‘They rarely live for so long – that kind.’
‘No, they don’t – but Billy Sculthorpe did live,’ Lavender reminded her, ‘and he lives still. Why did you persuade Sculthorpe to move here from Brighton? Was he attracting attention to himself with his blackmailing activities again?’
She shook her head, then dropped her gaze. The frilled lacy cap that covered her thin hair was too large for her, and cast her face into shadow. ‘Sculthorpe wrote to me that the Ahearn woman was ill – dying. He had begun to feel the infirmities of old age. He worried he wouldn’t be able to cope for much longer with Billy on his own.’
‘So you moved the family up to Northamptonshire to keep an eye on them?’
The black bonnet nodded again. ‘He wasn’t supposed to live . . .’
‘But he did live, Lady Anne,’ Lavender said, ‘and at this moment Billy Sculthorpe shows every sign of outliving you all. Pray tell me, what do you intend to do when you follow William Sculthorpe and Bridget Ahearn to the grave? Will you be able to make provision for Billy without revealing the secret you have kept hidden for almost twenty-five years?’
Her head jerked back in his direction. ‘Why do you care, Detective?’
‘I have become fond of the young chap. I don’t know if you have ever met him but he’s entertaining company – and an excellent artist.’
‘No, I have never met him. Looking at him on those first few days of his life was enough.’ She narrowed her eyes and observed Lavender shrewdly. Then she sighed heavily. ‘What is your price, Detective?’
‘My price?’
‘Yes, your price. The price of your silence? Sculthorpe took ten pounds a month. Every man has his price.’
Lavender leant forward in his chair. ‘This is my price, Lady Anne. Provide Billy Sculthorpe with a new and comfortable home, a manservant to dress him in the morning, a tutor to fill in his afternoons – and a drawing master to enhance his talent.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘You jest, surely?’
‘No, ma’am, I don’t. It will be seen as a generous act of benevolence by a wealthy lady of quality, nothing more. No one will ever suspect Billy is your grandson for I will keep your secret.’
‘Is that all you want?’
‘Yes, Your Ladyship – but you need to act soon. Captain Rushperry intends to contact the county asylum today to come and remove Billy into their care.’
She stared at him, her expression a mixture of distrust, disbelief and pity. ‘I knew you had an arrogant disrespect for the natural order of law, Lavender, but I had no idea you were such a soft-hearted fool, as well.’
He smiled. ‘Then my failings have worked to your advantage, Lady Anne. I shall disregard the laws prohibiting kidnapping and you may take your secret to your grave in exchange for the lifelong comfort and security of Billy Sculthorpe. Do we have an understanding?’
She nodded. ‘We do. I shall write a note for you to take back to Captain Rushperry. Billy Sculthorpe shall have a valet and a drawing master and I shall leave ample provision for him in my will. Now, do you have anything else to report to me about this case?’
‘William Sculthorpe was blackmailing Mrs Judith Wallace.’
She gasped at the bluntness of his statement. Her mouth fell open, the jaw slack. A trail of spittle appeared at the corner of her mouth.
‘William Sculthorpe had married Judith Debussy to Baron Danvers. He recognised her in Middleton and threatened to expose her bigamy.’
Lady Anne’s gaping jaw snapped shut. ‘You know about that too?’
‘Oh, yes.’
He watched her throat jerk as she swallowed painfully. ‘My goodness, Detective, you certainly leave no stone unturned during your investigations.’
Her tone was acid but he bowed his head at the compliment nevertheless. The action enabled him to hide his smile. ‘Well, that is the instruction you gave me, ma’am.’
‘Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? It seems I underestimated you, Lavender. Pray tell me what you propose to do with regard to this latest discovery?’ He could hear the tightness in her throat as she spoke.
‘Nothing about the bigamy,’ he said. ‘It is not in my remit to catch bigamists. You didn’t bring me up here to do that and I fail to see how anyone will benefit from such a disclosure after so much time has passed. Baron Danvers has a new wife and an heir and Mrs Wallace’s family are all ignorant of her crime.’
She visibly sighed with relief.
‘But I felt you should also know about the mushrooms.’
‘The mushrooms?’
‘I doubt we could prove it in court but Judith Wallace gave William Sculthorpe those ink cap mushrooms knowing, as I am sure she did, that he was a heavy brandy drinker. It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?’
Her eyes never left his face as she paused to consider his implication. ‘I’m sure there is nothing to be suspicious about, Detective,’ she said eventually. Her voice was lighter now and she waved a dismissive hand in his direction. But he could see that her eyes were troubled.
‘I’m sure you’re right, Lady Anne.’ He bowed low and bit back another smile as he left the room. Lady Anne was no fool and she had been very fond of William Sculthorpe. She wouldn’t be pleased with this news. He had planted a seed of doubt in her mind that he suspected would damage her friendship with Judith Wallace. The doctor’s wife wouldn’t find her patroness quite so obliging in the future.
Justice of a sort had been served.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Thursday 8th March, 1810
Market Harborough, Leicestershire
The sun was low in the sky when Lavender arrived at the deserted canal basin. The trees on the far bank of the canal cast long shadows across the still water. The roosting birds in the trees had fallen silent, although the waterfowl still squabbled in the reeds and called out to their young. The empty barges in the water drifted gently in the breeze, their mooring lines slowly tightening, then sagging once again.
Lavender strode past the high stacks of timber and headed for the towing path, where Woods sat on a low stool, fishing in the canal. The mountains of glistening coal on the wharf across the water stood silent and still.
‘Evenin’, sir,’ Woods said. ‘Nice haircut.’
Lavender ran his hand self-consciously through his shorn locks and glanced around. ‘It’s very quiet here today,’ he said.
Woods never took his eyes off his taut line. ‘Yes. They’ve all had to go home early. There’s no work on the wharf at the moment. Some daft saphead set fire to a wooden barge further downstream and blocked the cut.’
‘Ah.’ Lavender grinned, lowered himself onto the vacant stool beside Woods and stretched out his long legs. The sky over the wooded escarpment turned pink as the sun set. He watched a shoal of tiny fish dart between the strands of weed at the edge of the water. ‘How’s the fishing, Ned?’
‘Fair to middlin’.’ Woods gently nudged a pair of fat carp lying in the grass w
ith his boot. One of them still gulped for air. He leant down, picked it up and knocked it on its head.
‘Where’s Kilby?’
‘He had to return to the tavern. His missus needed his help.’ Woods rummaged around in his coat pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his hands. When he replaced it, he pulled out a small leather pouch and handed it across. ‘While I remember, Captain Rushperry sent this for you.’
Lavender smiled when he saw the glint of gold inside. ‘Did you get one too?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes. There’s twenty-five golden boys for me and Alby and fifty for you.’
‘Magdalena will be pleased,’ Lavender said. ‘She’s been pestering me to buy a dining table and chairs for some time. She wants to invite Lady Caroline around to eat with us but doesn’t think we can ask an aristocrat to join us at the kitchen table with Teresa and Mrs Hobart.’
Woods laughed. ‘I told you settin’ up home would cost you a fortune.’
‘How will you spend yours?’
‘I’ve a mind to come back here at Whitsuntide with Betsy and my nippers. Rosie wants to meet Betsy and I want them all to fill their lungs with fresh air and enjoy the peace of the countryside.’
‘Peace?’ Lavender said. ‘We came up to Northamptonshire to catch a vicious gang of thieves – and ended up catching two. During the course of the investigation we’ve also uncovered a fugitive from the law, a cheating shopkeeper, an army deserter, a child kidnapper and a bigamist.’
Woods chuckled. ‘All in a day’s work for you, sir.’
Lavender fingered the bag of coins again. ‘They’ve certainly had their money’s worth out of us.’
‘So what happened with Judith Wallace and Lady Anne?’ Woods asked.
Lavender told him.
‘You let them both get away with it?’ Woods’ mouth opened and snapped shut like the mouth of the dying carp at his feet. ‘You didn’t make any arrests?’ His eyes were as round as the fish’s. ‘I knew I should never have let you go on your own today. You’re ruddy useless with women!’
The Sculthorpe Murder Page 27