The Heiress of Linn Hagh (18 page)

Woods nodded. ‘It has, ma’am,’ he said simply.

Finally, she seemed satisfied and turned to go.

‘Good day to you, Constable—give Detective Lavender my regards.’

When Lavender returned just after one o’clock, he ordered a mug of tea from Mistress McMullen, then joined Woods in the taproom. Jethro Hamilton and his cronies had disappeared, and the room was now deserted.

Lavender told Woods about his trip to Greycoates, and Woods relayed the message passed on to him by Katherine Armstrong.

‘Twenty guineas? Well, that’s something. It might bring forward some information. From what we’ve learnt about George Carnaby’s finances over the last few days, it’s obvious that the man will not pay the promised two hundred pounds for news about his sister. He doesn’t have it—as I’m sure everyone in this town knows.’

‘Miss Katherine seemed a bit put out that you weren’t here,’ Woods commented with a wink. ‘I think that ye’ve got yourself a bit of an admirer in that lady.’

‘Mmm, I doubt that.’ Lavender smiled. ‘But
you
definitely have an admirer in Bellingham. When you were taken ill last night, the good vicar called in at the tavern to see if he could be of assistance. He was most concerned to hear that his most talented baritone was sick.’

‘He’d have been after reading me the last rites.’ Woods scowled and shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Business in his graveyard must be slow.’

Lavender smiled.

‘His services might have been needed. Doctor Goddard tells me that the vegetable matter you ingested was digitalis.’

‘Foxgloves, eh?’ Woods now looked impressed. ‘It’ll take more than a few weeds to put me in a wooden surcoat.’

‘The problem is, Ned, she didn’t intend to poison you—that was an accident. The poison was intended for Helen or Esther Carnaby, possibly both of them.’

Woods listened with amazement as Lavender related Doctor Goddard’s fears about the death of Esther Carnaby.

‘Who’d have thought it?’ Woods shook his head. ‘I mean, neither George Carnaby nor his sister is pleasant—he’s a cocksure bully, and she’s a sly old tabby—but killers! Are they in this murderin’ lark together, d’ya think?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ Lavender sighed. ‘They must be. Fortunately, Helen Carnaby seems to be more intelligent than the pair of them put together. It’s obvious to me that she has a lot of discretion for a young woman; it’s just possible that she gulled them both and escaped from Linn Hagh unscathed.’

‘I still find it hard to believe that they would try to murder either their stepmother or their half-sister for money.’

‘Greed combined with desperation is an unhealthy mix,’ Lavender said darkly. ‘I believe the older Carnabys are becoming more and more anxious as Helen gets closer to claiming her inheritance. This ridiculous scheme to “sell” her in marriage to Lawrence Ingram is another sign of that desperation. The loss of four hundred pounds a year will hit them harder than we thought. As the cook at Linn Hagh hinted, no one knows what goes on behind the closed doors of a “respectable” family home.’ He ran his hand over his head and pushed back the hair that had escaped from its binding. ‘Unfortunately, I suspect that we’ve only just begun to scratch away the scabs that cover the festering sores of life at Linn Hagh.’

‘Poor gal,’ Woods said thoughtfully. ‘Then there is the fellah she reckons stalks her through Hareshaw Woods. He scared her. Where does he fit into all this, I wonder?’

‘I don’t know.’ Lavender shook his head and frowned. ‘We need to examine those caves at the edge of the gorge and see if we can find him. I think in light of this new evidence, we need to take the threat to Helen Carnaby’s life seriously. She was obviously scared to death—the fact that she had asked for refuge from her uncle is further proof of this.’

‘I just wonder why she never returned to that school in Whitby in September,’ Woods commented. ‘She’d have been safe there. Both Katherine Armstrong and Isobel Carnaby told us that she’d been invited to return. All she had to do was bide her time at the school for a few months until she came of age, then claim her inheritance and move away.’

Lavender smiled.

‘I think that sheep drover may have the answer to that question.’

During their trip to Linn Hagh the previous day, Woods had excused himself to use the privy. On his return to the Great Hall, he had managed a few quiet words with the cook in the kitchen. Lavender’s threat to take Gladys Norris into custody had worked; she had called Lavender a few choice names in his absence, then given Woods the name of the drover who had seen Miss Helen with her young man. The man they now sought was called Abel Knowles.

‘There is a lover lurking in the background of her life,’ Lavender continued. ‘She didn’t want to leave the area. Young women in love can be very foolish and stubborn.’

‘How d’ya know this?’ Woods smirked.

Lavender ignored his interruption.

‘When we find the lover, we’ll find the girl. I just hope that we get to her before the older Carnabys do.’

‘I’ll seek out Knowles, the sheep drover, at the Wednesday market tomorrow,’ Woods said.

Mistress McMullen arrived to collect the used crockery from their table, which ended all hope of more private discussion.

‘I’ve ordered a couple of horses from the stables,’ Lavender said as he rose to leave. ‘Are you feeling up to returning to the gypsy camp, Ned? I’m determined to track down that Geddes girl today.’

Mistress McMullen dropped the dish she held. It crashed down on top of the other crockery and shattered. Startled by the clatter, both men glanced up.

‘Is something amiss?’ Lavender asked.

‘Nowt. Nowt at all.’ Her hands shook as she picked up the broken shards of crockery.

Lavender moved towards her, took hold of her plump arm and forced her to look at him.

‘What on earth is the matter with you, woman?’

She flushed, averted her eyes and tried to pull away.

‘Nowt.’

Lavender held onto her with a vice-like grip.

‘Are you withholding information from an officer of the law?’ His voice was menacing.

She squealed and struggled against his grip. ‘Gerroff me! You’re hurting.’

Lavender tightened his grip.

‘Is it Jethro Hamilton and Isaac Daly? Do they intend to cause trouble up at the gypsy camp?’

She wouldn’t look him in the face. ‘It’s nowt to do with me. I said fer them not to do it!’

‘Do what?’

She ceased struggling and dropped her voice.

‘There’s talk about burnin’ them out.’

Lavender’s colour faded. He let go of the woman abruptly and turned back to Woods.

‘Let’s move quickly, Ned. If we ride like the Devil, we may just get there before they do.’

Chapter Eighteen

I
n the heavy drizzle, the faw camp looked even more desolate than it had in the weak sunshine of the previous day. The rain had driven the gypsies undercover, and the camp was almost deserted. A few curious faces peered out of the entrances of the dirty tents, and the embers of the abandoned fire hearths sizzled and smoked in the damp.

‘What do we do?’ Woods asked as they dismounted. ‘Knock at one of them cloth tent doors?’

‘Just wait,’ Lavender said. ‘They know we’re here and what we want.’

Sure enough, a few moments later Paul Faa Geddes walked out of the woodland. He chewed his tobacco slowly and eyed them with an irritating insolence, which was difficult to ignore.

‘We still need to speak to the girl Laurel Faa Geddes.’ Lavender’s tone was abrupt.

‘You and your kind need to leave our womenfolk alone,’ Geddes said.

‘Why? Who else has asked to speak to Miss Geddes?’

‘You can tell George Carnaby to keep that damned idiot brother of his away from the gal, fer a start. It ain’t right.’

Lavender stared at Geddes coldly. Yes, gypsy women across the country were known for their low morals, easy ways and frequent arrests for prostitution, and the poverty of this group was glaringly apparent. But he had seen Matthew Carnaby and Laurel Faa Geddes together only the previous day and had gained the impression that their relationship was innocent. Matthew Carnaby might adore the girl, but he was not an unwelcome stalker. Geddes was either misguided or he was faking this moral indignation.

‘What is it that you think she can help you with?’ Geddes asked.

‘I believe she knows something about Miss Carnaby’s disappearance, her current whereabouts, what happened on the night she fled and the man she is with.’

Geddes laughed. A large wad of stringy tobacco bobbed on the saliva between his teeth. ‘Say she does know sommat, why should she help you? When did yer kind ever do owt to help ours?’

‘Can you see into the future, man?’ Lavender asked. ‘Do you have the “sight”?’

Geddes’ eyes widened. His rugged face contorted into a scowl.

‘I see you don’t,’ Lavender continued. ‘Well, fortunately for you, Geddes, I can predict the future—and it doesn’t look good for you and your kind right now.’

He pointed down the road towards Bellingham.

‘At any moment, a gang of angry farmers will appear on that road—intent on doing you harm. As representatives of the law, we’re the only people standing between you and them.’

‘Ye’ve set us up!’ Geddes spat out the accusation with his tobacco.

‘I didn’t have to,’ Lavender told him sharply. ‘You’ve managed to upset them all by yourselves—with your constant thievery from their farms. Petty theft is a matter for Constable Beddows. We’re here to find a missing girl—but right now we find ourselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would urge your people to arm themselves quickly. You may need to protect your homes and your families—I believe they intend to burn you out.’

A look of horror now flashed across Geddes’ face. He spun around and hollered out instructions in his alien tongue. Men and women appeared from nowhere, and the deserted camp filled with movement, screams and panic. Faces pale with fright, the gypsies scurried from tent to tent like a colony of beetles, scooping up possessions and herding children towards the safety of the forests. The elderly hobbled painfully after them.

When the panic had subsided and the area was cleared, eight men remained. They pulled out their knives with a flash of steel and ranged themselves silently in front of their ragged homes.

It would not be enough: the farmers would easily outnumber them. Despite the drizzle, the whole place would go up like a tinderbox if the farmers got near enough to the camp with their torches.

Lavender wondered how many gypsies remained in the flammable tents, too sick or too stubborn to flee.

‘We’re going to have to help them,’ he whispered to Woods.

The two officers moved away from the camp and positioned themselves halfway down the slope between the gypsies and the road. Woods glanced in the direction of Linn Hagh, where the smoking chimney stacks rose silently above the trees.

‘Should we go to Carnaby and ask for his help?’

‘I doubt we’d get any help from him.’ Lavender’s tone was bleak. ‘A lynch gang of farmers attacking the faws will play right into his hands. From what we’ve learnt of his cruelty, he’d probably just come out to watch.’

A crowd of twenty farmers appeared round the bend on the road. Angry and determined, they marched purposefully towards the gypsy camp. Brandishing pitchforks, scythes and flaming brush torches, they moved as one, the still air amplifying the thud of their boots. The once friendly men of The Rose and Crown and St Cuthbert’s Parish Church were now a seething mob and hard-faced as granite.

When they saw Lavender, Woods and the faws ranged against them, their pace faltered. They stopped about thirty yards below the encampment, pointing and murmuring amongst themselves.

‘Make sure your pistol is primed, Ned,’ Lavender said.

‘I’m ready.’

Lavender left Woods with their horses and walked down the slope towards the mob.

Jethro Hamilton scowled angrily as Lavender approached. His hair, heavy and wet from the ceaseless drizzle, was plastered against his head.

‘Whadd’ya want, Detective?’ he snapped. ‘This ain’t yer quarrel. I reckon ye’d best gan back to Bellingham and yer investigation.’

‘I’m afraid it is my quarrel, Mr Hamilton. You see, I’m an officer of the law, and I cannot stand by and watch you burn the homes of these people and put their lives at risk.’

‘What you tokkin aboot? They ain’t
people
—they’re bloody thievin’ scum who live like animals!’ The other men roared approval.

‘D’ya hear that, Geddes? You’re all parasites—leeches! Not one of you bastards has ever done a decent day’s work in yer damned life!’

‘You tell ’em, Jethro!’ Isaac shouted. The rest of the men growled and cheered encouragement. The menacing noise echoed back from the trunks of the ancient woodland, where the frightened women and children cowered in the undergrowth. The flames of the torches cast flickering demonic shadows across the contorted faces of the mob.

‘They do nowt but steal from those of us who work our backsides off from dawn till dusk—and we’ve had enough. We’ve had enough, I tell ye!’

‘Then take your grievances to the proper authorities,’ Lavender urged. ‘Complain to Beddows—get the magistrates to issue writs for arrests.’

‘D’ya think we haven’t tried? Beddows is useless—useless. Enough tokkin. Come on, men, let’s do what we set out to do!’

Hamilton stepped forward and the pack of farmers began to surge up the hill.

Woods fired his pistol into the air.

Startled by the blue powder flash and the sharp retort, the farmers stopped. A nervous horse whinnied, and a whole colony of rooks rose shrieking into the sky. Lavender sensed the faws stiffen behind him. In the short silence that followed, Woods lowered his gun and aimed it at the chests of the nearest group of farmers.

‘The next one of you joskins that moves gets the second barrel.’ Woods’ deep baritone voice had never sounded more threatening.

Lavender pulled his own pistol out of his pocket and made it visible to the farmers.

‘Listen to me!’ he yelled. ‘On Friday, I have a meeting with Magistrate Clennell in Morpeth. On Friday, I’ll take your complaints to him, and if you furnish me with evidence of the crimes committed, I’ll seek warrants for arrests on your behalf.’