James admitted that he knew about the knife attack and that, had Josh refused to confess he wasn’t Calvin, the lack of a scar would prove it. The young man’s defeated smile told him what he needed to know.
‘What you won’t know is that, had Calvin been able to relive that moment, he would have killed his father there and then. He wanted him dead for everything he inflicted on the family. On Boyd and his mother. An eye for an eye.’ Josh met James’ gaze. ‘So that’s what I did.’
He scanned the lounge and spotted Boyd. His expression softened. ‘Lord Harrington, I have no right to ask, but can you get a message to Calvin and tell him I’m sorry? And Lucy. I think she knew who I was but she didn’t let on. She did nothing wrong; she just got Boyd a passport. Is there any way you can get Boyd across to India? I’ve messed up on all fronts. I don’t want to mess up on what we originally planned.’
James wanted to help Boyd. He’d clearly had an awful start in life and it would do him good to see his brother. ‘Josh, I will do my best to fulfil your original wishes. As for Calvin, I think it best that you write a letter and Boyd can deliver it for you. I don’t profess to agree with the relationship you have, but a letter is something he can always read. Words from a stranger mean very little.’
Josh’s face was distraught as he rose wearily from his chair. Passengers began making their way onto the airfield. As Josh stood up, Boyd raced across the lounge and hugged him tight. Josh kissed the top of his head.
‘It’s all right, Boyd. You’ll be fine, I promise.’
‘But where will I go? I’ll not see Calvin, will I?’ As fast as he wiped the tears, more came.
Passengers, readying themselves to walk out to the plane, stared as they went by. Boyd couldn’t catch his breath he was so distraught.
James stood behind Boyd, drew him close and placed his hands on his shoulders as he watched George escort Josh away. The man didn’t stand a chance in the dock and would surely either hang or spend the rest of his life in prison.
Beth joined him. ‘I thought he might run.’
‘I don’t think he has anything to run for, darling.’ He turned Boyd. His pink eyes were red-rimmed and he began to shiver. James took his jacket off and wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders. He simply couldn’t begin to comprehend what the lad must be thinking. He sat Boyd down and pulled a chair across to sit opposite him.
‘Josh has asked that I do everything I can to get you across to see Calvin, and I promised I would. You may not be travelling on an aircraft right now, but I will do my utmost to make sure you travel on one in the next couple of days.’
Boyd gazed at him and then through the glass doors to see Josh being led away. His gaze never shifted until Josh was out of sight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The stone-built barn at the back of the Half Moon buzzed as villagers mingled back and forth. Bales of hay, deckchairs, school canteen tables and some wooden benches from the pub made up the makeshift seating. A queue of residents and farmers snaked along the wall, each waiting to pick up a portion of the harvest supper. Graham Porter, along with several farmers, had laid out a row of platters of roasted goose stuffed with vegetables and apples, followed by huge slabs of gammon boiled in cider. He placed a selection of food onto the plates. His wife, Sarah, ladled on an accompanying portion of pease pudding, a traditional British dish consisting of mashed split peas, onion and carrot.
At the end of the line, James, in his role as the Lord of the Harvest, distributed the traditional harvest bread moulded into the shape of a wheatsheaf. He tore pieces off for each villager. As the last of them went along the line, James picked up a plate to receive his own meal. He breathed in the smell of succulent meat juices. The goose was cooked to perfection. The gammon fell apart and the pease pudding was firm, yet fluffy. He remembered his grandfather speaking of the small village of Pease Pottage, a few miles up the road. Rumour had it that the village got its name from serving this dish to convicts in transit to London.
Donovan and Kate stood further along and handed out small tots of Harvest Gold ale. The villagers and farmers took their seats with their meals and drinks and the noise levels rose.
With Beth following behind, James found his way to a long bench where he was to preside as Lord of the Harvest. On either side of them were Stephen, Anne, GJ and Catherine. James stood and rang a large cowbell to quieten everyone down.
‘Do carry on eating. Before I ask Stephen to ask for a blessing on us this evening, I wanted to share some good news with you all.’
A murmur went through the barn.
‘As you know, a young man arrived at our old stables back in the spring and, thanks to some detective work and good luck, we were able to help him move on from his homeless existence. GJ here has since opened up a thriving art studio at Harrington’s and you’ll see that he’s had this rather lovely lady in tow all summer.’
James paused as a few suggestive comments were uttered by the farmers. He cleared his throat.
‘To get to the point, I’m honoured to announce the engagement of GJ and Catherine.’ A huge cheer rang around the barn and James had to ring the cowbell again to quieten everyone. ‘The wedding will be on the first of December here at St Nicholas’ church.’ He raised a glass. ‘Please raise your glasses. Congratulations, GJ and Catherine!’
‘Congratulations!’ everyone chorused.
Stephen, looking more like a cowboy than a vicar, in his checked shirt and blue jeans, took over and asked that they remain silent for a short prayer.
‘Lord, we ask that you bless this food that you bring to our table and join us in celebrating this harvest s-supper. We thank you for providing our farmers with the tools and skills to b-bring the harvest in and allow us the pleasure of enjoying this feast. Amen.’
Bert, who sat alongside Donovan, shouted, ‘Nice and short, vicar, that’s what we like!’
A chuckle went round the barn; Stephen took his seat next to James.
‘W-what a wonderful turnout.’
‘Isn’t it. Out of all the festivals we celebrate through the year, I think this one brings more villagers out than any of them. I honestly believe the whole village is here.’
Beth closed her eyes in delight. ‘This food is delicious.’
Anne announced that she’d already asked Graham for the gammon in cider recipe. Beth asked that she make a copy for her too.
‘S-so, is everything wrapped up with this C-Cameron business?’ asked Stephen.
‘More or less, yes. George got a straight confession from Josh. He knew things had gone horribly wrong. The police aren’t fools and were already piecing together the flight details, or lack of them. Lucy, I believe, may be charged. She knew a lot more than she led us to believe. She certainly should have come forward sooner.’
‘Did you ever l-learn why Boyd sent you the letters?’
James said he was an astute young man. ‘He’d seen the difference in the spelling of Calvin’s alleged wife and he heard movement in the passage the night Christie was killed. He sent the letters to me so they wouldn’t be found. I think he thought it was Calvin and he was trying to protect him. He trusted me. Unfortunately, I abused that trust.’
Anne reminded him that, if he hadn’t, a murderer would have gone free. James thanked her for her words, but suggested that the net had been closing in even at that point.
‘There were a couple of things, in hindsight, that now make sense,’ said James. ‘When we met Lucy at Elsie’s, she seemed overly worried about where the letters were. Although she hadn’t read them, she was worried about what was written in them. And when I announced to the others that Calvin had arrived, there was anxiety written all over his face. I now know that this was the moment of truth. If Boyd didn’t recognise Josh as Calvin, his cover would be blown. I’m still not sure whether Lucy recognised him. And, of course, when we went to hunt for the secret passage, he was careful to ensure that I searched an area well away from where the passage really was.’
‘When first we practise to deceive,’ added Anne. ‘And he didn’t put up a fight.’
‘No, and Calvin’s prognosis isn’t good. He’s been struck down by two serious illnesses. Josh has done what he set out to do.’
‘A-and did Calvin ever m-marry?’
‘No. It appears this Jayne girl was part of their crowd. He made all that up to get the inheritance.’
‘I thought it might be Suzie who was the killer,’ Anne said. ‘She just seemed too sure of herself.’
Stephen groaned at his wife’s logic and turned his attention to James. ‘A-and Boyd?’
James put his knife and fork down. ‘Ah, well, that was one piece of good news. Kushal has taken Boyd under his wing and they are in Bombay as we speak. Kushal has arranged for Calvin to be taken to a better hospital and has promised to update me once he has news.’
‘Sweetie,’ said Beth, ‘if Calvin recovers, will he be charged with anything?’
‘I wouldn’t imagine so. George said he doesn’t really have any tangible proof. The statement Josh signed indicates that the plan was his; he’s not incriminated Calvin at all.’
Bert raised a glass and called across. ‘Nice nosh.’
James held his own glass up. He scooped the rest of his pease pudding up and savoured the last morsel of gammon. After dabbing his lips with a napkin, he pushed his plate away.
Stephen turned quickly as if he’d just remembered something. ‘W-what about Locksmith Joe?’
James was aware that both Beth and Anne were keen for an update but all he could give them was a helpless shrug.
‘He’ll have to give himself up. We searched every nook and cranny in that house for a camera. We found one, but there was no film in it. Boyd searched his room, too, but he says he never saw it. Cameron must have thrown it all out when they moved.’
Stephen frowned and looked at Anne. ‘Have you asked Luke and Mark? D-did they take anything from that r-rubbish tip? I know the pair of them went through it along with a few others.’
‘I told them they weren’t to take anything but I know they all did,’ said Anne. She shivered. ‘Typical boys messing about in a place that’s filthy and probably full of germs.’
Stephen sought out their two boys, who raced across from the small play area that had been set up for the children.
‘Luke, M-Mark, that rubbish tip at the back of Cory House. Did you t-take anything?’
The boys remained quiet but the rising colour in their faces gave them away.
‘Y-you know you should always ask p-permission before taking things, don’t you?’
‘But it was rubbish,’ said Luke.
‘And it wasn’t just us that took things,’ Mark added, his bottom lip protruding.
James squatted down. ‘How would you like to solve a mystery?’
Their eyes lit up.
‘Among those things you took, was there a camera?’
‘It’s a rusty old thing. I’ve got it in my cupboard. Have I got to give it back?’ Luke said.
‘Is it going to solve a murder?’ asked Mark excitedly.
James felt an adrenalin rush. ‘Do you know, Mark, I think it may well do.’ He turned to Stephen. ‘Can you nip across the green with the boys and find it?’
Anne, not wanting to miss out, said that she, Stephen and the boys would go and hunt down the camera. Within a minute, they’d gone.
Beth got up. ‘Mr Chrichton is over there. Shall I ask if we can make use of his dark room?’
‘Good idea. You do that and I’d best get on and announce the distribution of the cake.’
He sought out Rose and Lilac Crumb who were already levering off the lids to several cake tins. Inside were home-made caraway cakes. The smell of freshly-baked sponge overwhelmed him.
‘I say, ladies, these look wonderful and smell delicious.’
‘Took us all weekend to cook,’ said Lilac.
‘A real treat for everyone,’ her sister put in.
‘Are you announcing it?’
‘Don’t want ’em going stale.’
Without further ado, James picked up the cowbell and rang it. The room hushed.
‘Ladies, gentleman and children. In keeping with the tradition of the harvest supper, Rose and Lilac Crumb have baked this year’s caraway cake.’ He breathed in the aroma. ‘I have to say, this may be one of the best we’ve tasted. Once you’re ready, come and get a piece. We’ll then clear the floor a little and Bob Tanner will be leading a barn dance.’
The noise levels rose again as villagers scrambled to queue for cake. The ladies of the WI sorted out tea and coffee and a number of men began clearing bales of hay to one side to allow room for dancing. Beth negotiated her way through the crowds to join him.
‘Mr Chrichton is more than happy to develop the film. He can do it now, if it’s urgent.’
James brushed her hair from her eyes. ‘I hope and pray that this is the camera we’re seeking.’
Beth agreed and commented that Bert would also be pleased to have this particular event cleared up. Luke hurtled up to him and held out a dirty, dusty camera.
Chrichton joined them. ‘Is that the one?’
James turned the camera over in his hand; a wide grin on seeing the make: Exakta. ‘This is the one! Are you all right to do this now? It is harvest supper, after all.’
‘I’ve had my meal,’ replied Chrichton. ‘I’m not too fussed about dancing. You stay here and do your Lord of the Harvest duties. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
They watched him go. James felt like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. He wished he had patience during times like this and forced himself to calm down.
‘Well,’ he said to Beth and the Merryweathers, ‘there’s nothing we can do now until that film’s developed. Let’s have some caraway cake and take our mind off of things.’
The caraway cake, though, did nothing to distract James from thinking about the film. He watched as Bert shared a joke with Charlie Hawkins and his children. If that film did not provide the evidence Locksmith Joe sought, the escaped convict would have to give himself up. Bert rode his luck at times and the longer he sheltered a convict, the more trouble he was likely to be in. He didn’t like to think of his old friend being charged for harbouring a criminal.
George interrupted his thoughts.
‘Ah, hello, George. I didn’t think you would make it.’
His friend shrugged his raincoat off and put it over the back of a chair. ‘Don’t like to miss out on these unless I have to.’
‘Any news?’
‘Yes, some of it good. Josh is under lock and key. Lucy’s been cautioned. I gave her a telling-off about holding information back.’
‘I get the feeling that Lucy is a law-abiding citizen.’
‘She was shaking like a leaf when I spoke with her. I don’t think she’ll be breaking the law again.’ His expression brightened. ‘And Mr Patel called. It appears that, on seeing Boyd, Calvin has taken a turn for the better. They’re not promising anything yet, but it seems his affection for the boy, and the new hospital he’s in, have perked him up.’
‘That is good news,’ said James, ‘although I’m sure Calvin will be heartbroken over what happened with Josh. Listen, Donovan has the harvest tot over there. I think you probably deserve a couple, so why don’t you relax and forget about today’s activities?’
George thanked him and said that he would do just that. He waved hello to Beth and made his way to the WI table to see what was left to eat and drink.
Beth dragged James away and they joined in a couple of dances. Breathless after an energetic reel, James checked his watch and found himself repeatedly looking at the door. Time dragged terribly when one was waiting for urgent news. It was like waiting for the twins to be born all over again. He’d never forget that day; the matron had ordered him to sit down while the midwife and the nurses rushed here and there. He remembered a clock
on the wall opposite where he had watched the second hand tick, ever so slowly. Sometimes, it had felt as if it were going backward. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry and Oliver arrived into the world.
The evening drew to a close and, one by one, the villagers gathered their things and said goodbye. Many, the worse for wear on cider and brandy tots, weaved from one side of the pavement to the other, their arms around each other, singing songs about the harvest, cider and farming. The ladies of the WI scurried around with brooms and bins tidying up. The Merryweathers, Donovan, Kate, Bert and the Snoop Sisters all came together to help.
The door opened. James swung round to see Mr Chrichton striding toward him holding out the photographs.
James tugged George’s sleeve. ‘You’re going to want to see these.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
James, George, Bert and the Merryweathers huddled in a corner of the stone barn with Mr Chrichton. George chivvied the Snoop Sisters back to their tidying up and Donovan and Kate returned to the pub. After some pleading, the Merryweathers allowed Luke and Mark to stay over with Tommy and Susan Hawkins. They now had the barn to themselves and George, having leafed through some photographs of paintings and antiques, stopped at the last one. James peered over his shoulder.
The black and white shot showed a heavily-built man with his hands around a woman’s throat. The woman’s eyes bulged and her face appeared flushed as she grabbed at her assailant’s hands. Beth, standing the other side of George, shook her head in exasperation.
‘But we can’t see who that is. How does that prove anything? The man has his back to the camera.’ She looked at Chrichton. ‘Were there no more prints?’
‘No,’ said Chrichton. ‘that was the last one used on the film.’
‘No, wait!’ James snatched the print from George. He prodded it hard. ‘See here, here’s the proof you need. Look at the reflection. There.’
George ordered everyone to give him some room. ‘You’ll get your turn. Now, James, what’re you looking at?’
Lord James Harrington and the Autumn Mystery Page 20