Chapter 12
The next morning Beatrix woke with a dreadful headache, stating she couldn’t possibly get out of bed. Obviously, Arabella’s first thought was, ‘I’ll give her a deuced headache.’ However, after a few minutes of careful thought, she concluded that all was not entirely lost.
There was no use asking Bernice to attend in her twin’s stead since Bernie would likely refuse point-blank when presented as an alternative to afternoon tea, so who did that leave?
Both Daisy and Florence were to attend the monthly Paignton Ladies' luncheon, while the rest of them were otherwise engaged.
Crying off such an engagement entirely would be unwise, given that the gossip mill in Paignton was alive and kicking and very prone to putting two and two together and making a round half a dozen – especially when it involved the Shacklefords.
The last thing they needed at this point in time was to be the subject of the local busybodies.
Which left either Peggy or Billy.
Unfortunately, Peggy was otherwise engaged on an errand for Mrs Williams, however, Billy proclaimed himself delighted to play the part of chaperone.
Looking at the boy’s enthusiastic face, Bella swallowed her misgivings.
It would be fine. All she needed was for Billy to be present while she and Benedict were alone.
What could possibly go wrong?
They were a little late picking up Benedict since Billy had to see to his chores first and given the fact that Bella didn’t want to advertise the fact that she was taking a nine-year-old boy as the sole protector of her honour, she actually spent half an hour emptying the chamber pots from under each bed and cleaning her own boots -all to hurry Billy along.
Which she told herself was character-building…
Still, they managed to collect Chief Inspector Hartley before ten a.m., and if he was dismayed to see Billy’s beaming face as he opened the carriage door, he hid it well.
‘We’ll attempt to call on Mrs Mary Blackthorne first,’ Benedict told them as he climbed in after giving the coach driver the address.
‘Is name’s Evans,’ Billy informed him brightly. ‘e’s from Wales. Everybody’s called Evans in Wales.’
Since neither Bella nor Benedict could think of an answer to the boy’s statement that didn’t involve a map and a family tree detailing the entire Welsh population, they chose to simply ignore it.
Instead, Ben went on to describe how he thought they should proceed, trying hard not to look at Billy’s gravely nodding face as the lad listened.
‘O’ course I ain’t ‘ere to tell you ‘ow to do yer job, Chief Inspector,’ Billy announced solemnly when he’d finished, ‘but ‘ave you thought about proddin’ ‘er along a bit? P’raps givin’ Mrs Blackthorne summat to think about?’
Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘What did you have in mind?’ he said - admittedly through gritted teeth.
‘Well, if yer need ‘er to tell you wot the ‘ell’s goin’ on, mebbe you can tell ‘er about the stiff. There’s nowt like a corpse to get someone to start blabbin’ – or so me dad always said.’
Fortunately, they arrived at their first destination before Ben could think of an answer that discouraged Billy’s bloodthirstiness while privately thinking the boy actually had a point…
‘Stay in the carriage, Billy,’ Arabella ordered him as Benedict held out his hand to help her down. ‘We won’t be long.’
‘Can I sit up on top wi’ Evans?’ the boy shouted after her. He wasn’t entirely sure that her nod was an answer, since she was laughing at something the Chief Inspector said, but Billy believed in always looking on the positive side of everything.
Excitedly, he climbed out and then up onto the coach box where Evans was busy pulling on a pipe. While the driver didn’t exactly look overjoyed to see him, neither did he tell him to scarper – which again, in Billy’s book, meant he was welcome.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Evans puffing on his pipe and Billy counting the pigeons under the eaves of the roof.
He sniggered a bit as he watched a couple of them get a bit fresh until his eyes were drawn towards an alleyway down the left-hand side of the house.
The boy had already seen Miss Bella and the Chief Inspector walk through the front door, but he couldn’t help wondering if there was another door at the end of the narrow passage.
Not that it mattered, he told himself, but still…
He leaned forward and to the side, earning him an irritated look from Evans.
He still couldn’t quite see exactly what was there, so he decided to hop down.
After telling the coach driver he wouldn’t be long and getting a grunt in response, he crept into the front garden and followed the path along the wall.
Seconds later, he turned into the alleyway.
The space was dark and dingy with almost no sunlight reaching it.
Overgrown bushes ran along the boundary wall to the left, and the ground was soggy underfoot.
As he tiptoed forward, Billy felt the first stirrings of disquiet.
What in tarnation did he think he was doing?
There was nothing here, and he’d cop it if the Chief Inspector caught him.
The boy was just about to trace his steps back into the spring sunlight when he saw a door begin to open about twenty yards in front of him.
He hadn’t noticed it in the gloom. Stomach roiling in sudden fear, Billy squeezed himself into the centre of the nearest bush.
Seconds later, a man stepped through the door, immediately turning to speak to someone still inside.
‘He said Castel-a-Mare? Are you sure?’
Another figure appeared at the door. Billy couldn’t see his face, but he was dressed like a bone picker.
‘That’s wot ‘e said. If yer reckon ‘e’s bein’ a bit ‘asty, you could always tell ‘im so.’ The man gave a dark chuckle.
‘Very funny,’ was the grated reply. ‘I’m just surprised, that’s all. Trust me, I have no intention of arguing with Jacob. What happened to Margaret was a salutary lesson for us all.’
The footman grinned, unperturbed. Even from his position in the bush, Billy could see that most of his teeth were missing, and those left were blackened and rotten.
How Mrs Blackthorne could stomach having someone so disgusting serve her at the table, he had no idea. It would put him off his dinner.
‘If I ‘ad ter guess, I reckon old Jacob’s a tad worried things are gettin’ out of ‘and. Wot wi’ the peelers nosin’ around an’ all.’
‘I’m well aware we need to move quickly. What Margaret did was the height of idiocy, and she paid for it. But that stupid bitch leaving her body in the house…’ The man’s icy, emotionless tone gave Billy the shivers. His voice was familiar.
‘Maybe we should tell ‘im we think the old bag’s outlived ‘er usefulness. I mean, she’s the bloody reason the peelers are stickin’ their noses in, an’ now lookin’ for a murderer as well as a mug hunter.’
Billy bit his lip to swallow a whimper. After this, he was definitely not going to do any more nosing…
‘Don’t be a damn fool. It’s more than our lives are worth to tell Jacob anything, as well you know,’ was the cold retort. ‘And anyway, he already knows. I suspect he intends to make an example of her - and this time they’ll never find the body. Tell him I’ll be at Castel tomorrow night.’
The footman nodded and stepped back inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. A few seconds later, the man left on the doorstep turned and strode decisively up the passageway towards him. As he passed, Billy covered his mouth with his hand and shut his eyes.
The man just leaving Mary Blackthorne’s house was John Thorpe.
After waiting a good five minutes to make sure his exit was clear, Billy cautiously crawled out of the bush and hurried towards the front of the house.
Once there, he peeked round the corner but could see no sign of Thorpe.
The only movement on the road outside the house came from the two horses attached to Lord Tavistock’s carriage, chomping contentedly on some grain Evans had given them.
Hastily, Billy made his way back to the carriage.
Giving a brief wave to the coach driver, he pulled open the door and threw himself inside.
Then, after checking the road was still empty, he yanked the door shut and sat with his knees up to his chin, rocking backwards and forwards to calm himself down.
After about five minutes, he began to breathe easier, and he allowed his mind to go over the conversation he’d just heard.
The boy went over the whole exchange, committing as much as he could to memory.
He’d heard the Shacklefords speak of someone named Jacob before – and according to Thorpe, this bloke was going to be at Castel-a-Mare tomorrow.
Why the devil would they want to hold a meeting there?
Everyone knew it was haunted. Billy shuddered.
He’d never visited and had no desire to after his dad threatened to lock him in and leave him there all night…
From what Thorpe said, it looked as though they knew who’d slit Margaret Finch’s throat, just as Mr Henry suspected.
Was this Jacob going to leave whoever did it for the ghosts in that haunted the place to finish off?
Billy shivered again, then almost jumped out of his skin as the carriage door was suddenly opened.
A moment later, he relaxed as Miss Bella climbed inside, seating herself opposite him while Chief Inspector Hartley told Evans where to go next. ‘What on earth’s the matter, Billy?’ she said after taking one look at his white face.
Billy fought the urge to burst into tears lest they make him look unmanly. ‘I reckon I better wait until the Chief Inspector gets in,’ he managed thickly.