24. Boiling Point
CHAPTER 24
Boiling Point
A t church on Sunday, Mr Charles called the banns for a second time. Joshua and Phoebe hadn’t come to the service this time, perhaps fearful of being shamed by Lord Ferndale again before the whole congregation. And while Mr Charles had agreed to continue to call the banns, he regretfully told Shaun and Louise that he could not legally perform a wedding ceremony while the question of her guardian’s consent was undecided.
“I’ll work on that,” Shaun said. “You call the banns… and by the time they’re done, things might be different.”
It was a beautiful, warm summer day. They spent a most pleasant afternoon at Ferndale Hall, returning home afterwards in the Ferndale carriage, and Shaun and Louise stood talking outside the bookshop while Brutus ran down the road to talk with another boy his own age who was playing with a dog on the green.
“Shaun!” Louise grabbed at his hand suddenly, her happy expression changing to one of alarm. “It’s Benjamin, look!”
Shaun spun around, to see Benjamin walking up to Brutus and the other boy.
“Go inside,” he said to Louise, before setting off at a run to intercept. He couldn’t hear what Benjamin was saying, but he could see the boy’s stance, shoulders squared and fists braced.
Brutus didn’t seem afraid of his brother, standing bravely straight. Perhaps he saw Shaun coming at a dead run, because as he got close enough to hear them, Brutus said;
“And what are you going to do about it?”
Benjamin took a swing, Brutus dodged, and Shaun arrived before Benjamin could swing again.
“Oh, no you don’t, sonny,” he said, stepping in between the two brothers.
“This is none of your business!” Benjamin snarled at him.
“It’s always my business when someone’s being a bully.”
“Why don’t you just go back to where you came from!” Benjamin yelled, red in the face and furious.
Shaun took a step closer. “That’s not happening, lad. This is my home, now. I’m staying. For ever ,” he emphasised. “And while I’m here? You’ll not be bullying anyone.”
Benjamin gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, and for a moment Shaun thought the boy might be foolish enough to throw a punch.
“You watch your back,” Benjamin said nastily after a moment, taking a step back.
Shaun laughed, not in the least intimidated. “I’m not afraid of you, boy. Run along home now. Before I give you the thrashing you so richly deserve.”
Benjamin hesitated, Shaun took another step forward, and the boy took to his heels.
Watching him run, Shaun was more certain than ever that Benjamin was the man he’d chased outside the bookshop that night, the one who’d dropped the tinderbox. Fast and agile, his gait was unmistakable, as was his height and build. Shaun watched until the youth was out of sight, before he turned to discover that Louise had not gone into the bookshop as he had instructed, but had followed him and now stood watching, her arm around Brutus’ thin shoulders.
Shaun smiled ruefully, going to join them. “Of course you didn’t do as you were told. And you!” He wagged a finger at Brutus. “Didn’t anyone teach you that poking a wasps’ nest is a bad idea?”
“I knew you wouldn’t let him hurt me,” Brutus said, and Shaun shook his head.
“He could have laid you out with one punch before I got there, if it had connected. Stay away from him, Brutus.”
“Yes, Mr Jackson,” Brutus said penitently.
“Did you really think I was going to go inside and leave you to deal with that on your own?” Louise asked as Shaun took her hand and the three of them turned to make their way back to the bookshop, Brutus’ friend and dog having already made themselves scarce.
“No.” He grinned. “But I don’t think my protective instincts are going to fade away any time soon, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to live with them.”
“And… you’re not angry with me for disobeying?”
Shaun ruminated for a moment. “I think the only time I could be angry with you is if you put yourself in danger without warning me that you’re going to do it first. So I can provide backup.”
Her smile was like the sunrise, and she squeezed his hand tightly. “Thank you.”
“You’ve done an excellent job of taking care of yourself thus far without me. You’re an intelligent woman, my love. I trust you to know when you’re out of your depth and to ask for help.” She’d already demonstrated the ability to do so, having told him all about her appeal to Renwick for help with the Chancery Court.
Shaun joined the Baxter sisters for a light supper in the kitchen above the bookshop, prepared by Mrs Poole. Dr Williams joined them too, and afterwards they played a merry game of lottery tickets, pleasing Brutus who loved the game.
As always, Shaun did not want the evening to end, but at last Mrs Poole pointedly told him and Dr Williams that it was time they were in their own beds. Louise walked them downstairs to let them out and lock up behind them, Shaun lingering for one heavenly but all-too-brief kiss.
“Have you found a house yet?” Dr Williams asked laughingly as they listened to Louise locking up the bookshop before walking away.
“Not yet.” The one and only fire Benjamin had been able to set when he returned to Hatfield had been the house Shaun had been looking at before he went away, and it had burned to the ground. There was really nothing else suitable, and Shaun was beginning to wonder if he would need to build new. At least the doctor’s cottage was almost finished now the men working on it had returned home. Glynn would be able to move there soon.
“Good night,” he said to the doctor, and made his way to the inn. Riot was standing in the yard, leaning on his crutch, briefing the three men who would be patrolling town that evening. All of them offered respectful nods, but Shaun stood back and waited until Riot had finished and sent the men on their way.
“All good?” Shaun checked.
“Aye. Norbury’s new, but the other two will show him the ropes.” Riot sighed, tapped his crutch on the ground. “Can’t wait until I can be rid of this bloody thing.”
“Not long,” Shaun consoled. “You’re almost sound on that leg.”
Riot looked a bit despondent. “Not sure I’ll ever be as fast as I once was.”
Shaun patted his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer before I turn in.”
“You’ll put it on Lord Ferndale’s account, you mean,” Riot gibed.
“He’s a generous employer,” Shaun said with a grin.
“Eh, we’ve fallen on our feet here and no mistake,” Riot said. “Twas a lucky day for me when I ran out of money to travel home here in Hatfield. Found a fine job, the girl of my dreams, and a good friend.”
Riot had hit the nail squarely on the head there, Shaun thought as Mr Haye brought them two tankards with a cheerful smile. They raised them in a silent toast to each other, before enjoying the excellent brew always served at the Red Lion.
“Well, I’m for bed,” Shaun said, when his jaw cracked in a yawn. Normally, he would take the first evening shift, but since today was Sunday and he hadn’t been able to sleep in the afternoon, he and Riot would swap over. Riot would wake him sometime after midnight, and until then Riot would be out the front of the Red Lion on a bench placed there, where the patrollers would check in with him regularly… and where Riot could conveniently keep an eye on the bookshop.
Hours later, Riot woke him. Shaun sighed and dragged himself from the comfortable bed. When he was officially the magistrate, he wouldn’t be doing night patrols, he decided. Though hopefully he’d have Benjamin Baxter in custody long before that, and they wouldn’t need to be so vigilant.
The new man, Norbury, was waiting as Shaun reached the front of the inn. “Evening, sir,” he said with a nervous little nod.
“Anything to report?” Shaun said, manfully swallowing another yawn.
“Well…”
“Out with it.” Shaun’s attention sharpened.
“I was just by the livery yard,” Norbury pointed through the archway between the Red Lion and the bookshop, that led into the inn yard and then to the livery stables behind. “I did think I saw someone in the field behind, and then climbing over the wall.”
“Which wall? Show me.”
It was quite dark, with only a sliver of moon showing. Norbury was carrying a lantern, though, so they could see their way quite well.
“This wall, sir.” Norbury stopped and pointed.
Shaun felt a sudden cold fear clutch at his heart. It was the wall that separated the bookshop’s small back garden from the livery stable’s side yard. Not an easy wall to climb, by any means, but for a tall, light youth… “Cover that lantern,” he said sharply. Norbury put the lantern down and draped his coat over it.
“Give me a leg up,” Shaun ordered tersely, and Norbery obeyed, enabling Shaun to get his hands to the top of the wall and pull himself up.
For a moment, while his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he couldn’t see anything. Then, faint movement caught his eye. Someone was climbing the ivy at the back of the building!
“I see you!” he shouted.
The figure froze.
“Come down from there!” Shaun roared. Looking down at Norbury on the other side of the wall, he added quietly, “Run around to the front of the bookshop, quickly, and start banging on the door and making a ruckus. We need to rouse them, and fast!”
Norbury set off at a dead run, and Shaun looked back at the dark figure who was clearly up to no good, just in time to see an arm swing wide.
“No!” Shaun shouted, but the crook wasn’t listening. A window shattered and something was flung inside. Shaun was grimly sure he knew what, as he heard more glass breaking.
“Louise!” he yelled, as loudly as he could. “Wake up! LOUISE!”
The dark figure was scrambling sideways along the ivy like a damned spider, heading for the side of the building, before leaping down onto the wall and then into the inn yard.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Shaun scrambled down off the wall and raced after them. “Benjamin Baxter!” he roared, quite sure he knew who he was chasing. “Stop right there!”
The lad froze for the briefest instant before taking off like a startled rabbit. Damn, he was fast; how was Shaun going to catch him? But as the boy reached the front of the Red Lion, he tripped over something, and suddenly fell full-length on the cobblestones.
“And stay down, cnaf !” Riot Jones snapped, planting the end of his crutch on the back of the lad’s neck.
“Well done, Riot!” Shaun caught up and bent down to yank back the hood over Benjamin’s head, revealing the lad’s furious face. “Well now,” he said. “What do we have here?”
“Shaun?” he heard Louise’s voice, but didn’t look up.
“He broke a window and threw a hurricane lamp in.”
“I know, it was right into my bedroom! I smothered it straight away.” She came to his side, pulling her cloak tightly around her. “Oh, Benjamin,” she said, looking at the boy on the ground. “What a mess.”
“What do we do with him?” Riot asked.
“Nothing! My father’s the magistrate!” Benjamin shouted. “You can’t do anything to me!”
“Is that what you think, lad?” Shaun laughed. “You were caught in the act. Not even your father can save you from what’s coming.”
Fear dawned on Benjamin’s face as Shaun reached down and yanked him to his feet. Others were coming out of the inn now, drawn by the shouting and noise, and there was a circle of furious faces looking back at the boy.
“You caught him, then?” Mr Haye said.
“Indeed. Climbed the back of the bookshop and broke a window to throw a hurricane lantern in. Pretty conclusive, I’d say.”
Riot reached into Benjamin’s pockets and pulled out a tinderbox. “Indeed, what’s a boy of sixteen doing roaming the streets at two in the morning with this in his pocket?”
“String him up,” someone said, and too many people made noises of agreement.
Louise gripped Shaun’s arm, giving him a panicked look.
“That, we’re not doing,” he said loudly. “That’s not justice. If someone could take a horse and ride for Ferndale Hall, though… ask Lord Ferndale to come at first light.”
“And in the meantime, the coal cellar’s got a lock on it and no other way out,” Mr Thomas suggested sensibly.
“That’ll do nicely.” Shaun dragged Benjamin over by the scruff of his neck, half-hoping the lad would fight back, but he was limp and unresisting. Still confident his father would get him out of this, Shaun guessed. Well, the lad had another think coming.
“Should we get Mr Baxter?” Mr Haye asked.
“Absolutely not.” Shaun grinned tightly. “Our good magistrate has insisted ever since patrols began that he wasn’t to be bothered in the night by any criminals we might happen to catch. We’ll obey his instructions and not fetch him until after he’s breakfasted.”
Laughter greeted this suggestion, and then willing hands were grasping hold of Benjamin and tossing him into the coal cellar.
“Go back to bed,” Shaun told Louise quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders to hug her tight. “Or maybe, go and share with Bernadette for the night. I’ll come and put a board over your broken window in the morning.”
“All right.” She reached up to kiss him, a smile on her lips. “You did it,” she whispered. “You caught him.”
“It’s not over yet,” he cautioned, but privately, he was feeling confident. He walked her back to the bookshop and waited until she had locked the door before returning to the coal cellar door, where Riot was standing guard with Norbury.
“You did well,” Shaun told Norbury, who puffed up and looked proud of himself. “But now, I want you to go and get some sleep. In the morning you’re going to need to be very clear about what exactly you saw, so get some rest and be ready to be questioned.”
Norbury gulped - he was only a young lad himself, not more than twenty - but nodded bravely. “Aye, sir, I can do that.”
“Off you go, then. Mr Jones and I will stand guard here.”
“For sure I’m not risking anyone letting the little cnaf go,” Riot said with a triumphant grin. “Not after so much effort to catch him!”
“He’s lucky he doesn’t have a broken ankle. Quick thinking, to trip him with your crutch!” Shaun congratulated.
“Fast as a rabbit, that one. You weren’t going to catch him!”
Shaun acknowledged the truth of that, but he and Riot were both far too jubilant to gibe at each other. They leaned against the coal cellar door, grinning happily, until dawn came.
Mr Thomas had taken a horse to Ferndale Hall himself, and clearly roused Lord Ferndale at the crack of dawn, because the church clock was just striking seven when the Ferndale carriage rolled into the inn yard.
“Well, well.” Lord Ferndale stepped down, all smiles. “I hear you’ve caught our miscreant, Jackson!”
“It was a team effort, sir,” Shaun said, determined to give credit where it was due. “He was spotted by young Mr Norbury, a new man, and Mr Jones here apprehended him by tripping him while he was making a run for it.”
“Excellent! And he is secured in the coal-cellar, Mr Thomas told me?”
Shaun gestured to the heavy wooden door behind him. They’d not heard a peep out of Benjamin since locking him in, but Shaun trusted Mr Thomas; there was no way for Benjamin to make an escape.
“In that case, I think we might leave him here with Mr Jones and Mr Thomas to keep an eye on him, and you and I shall go and pay a call upon Joshua Baxter, what do you say?”
“With the greatest pleasure,” Shaun said happily.
The Baxter’s housekeeper looked astounded to see Shaun and Lord Ferndale at the door at such an early hour, but she admitted them to the breakfast-parlour, where Joshua and Phoebe were sitting together. A maid had their youngest, Barnaby, in her arms and removed him from the room.
“Good morning,” Lord Ferndale said. “I’m afraid Mr Jackson and I come as the bearers of quite dreadful news.”
Phoebe and Joshua looked at each other in apparent puzzlement before looking back at Lord Ferndale.
“The arsonist was apprehended last night,” Lord Ferndale said.
“Well… that is good news, is it not?” Phoebe said with a silly little laugh.
“For Hatfield, certainly,” Shaun agreed. “For your family, I regret not. We caught your son, Benjamin, in the act of smashing a window and setting fire to Baxter’s Fine Books.”
Both Joshua and Phoebe looked absolutely shocked, and Shaun realised they had either not heard the rumours about Benjamin or had not believed them. Did they know their son at all?
“That is ridiculous!” Phoebe cried. “My darling boy! Of course not! Why, he is fast asleep upstairs, where he has been all night?”
“Is he?” Lord Ferndale said, his tone quite kind. “Would you care to go and check, Mrs Baxter?”
“Go and look, Phoebe,” Joshua said, his voice strangled, and Shaun could see that the truth was beginning to sink in. Shaun and Lord Ferndale would not be here grave-faced at this hour of the morning with false information.
Phoebe, going pale, stood up and hurried past them. They waited silently while her feet pattered up the stairs, and then there was a distant shriek.
“I think you’d better come with us, Mr Baxter,” Lord Ferndale said.
“I… this cannot be right,” Joshua blustered, even as Phoebe came rushing back down. “You have… set Benjamin up somehow! Framed him!”
“The only person who has set him up is you,” Shaun said coldly. “You have set him up to fail in life by coddling him beyond sense and spoiling him rotten.”
Phoebe shrieked, and Joshua turned on her. “This is your fault, woman!”
“Casting blame everywhere but at yourself? How very like you,” Lord Ferndale said, shaking his head slowly. “Mr Baxter. It is time to face the truth. Your son is a criminal, and your failure to even notice what he was doing could be considered aiding and abetting his crimes. Now, will you come with us to discuss what has to be done, or do I need to ask Mr Jackson to drag you?”