Authors: Rebecca King
Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #historical romance, #romantic mystery, #historical mystery, #mystery detective, #victorian romance, #victorian mystery
“
What would you know about it?” Bentwhistle snorted. “You
don’t even live in this God forsaken little place. I told father
before he died that the village wasn’t large enough to keep us
afloat but he would have none of it. He insisted that we stay here
because that is where his father founded the business, in spite of
the fact that most of our business comes from Great Tipton. The
stupid old bugger refused to relocate and cut down on expenses. By
the time he did bloody well die, the business was barely able to
function.”
“
So you thought you would steal from your customers. After
all, the dead can’t speak, can they?” He knew now that Alan
Bentwhistle had pushed the glass to warn Harriett, and had
undoubtedly used enough of the gossip to convince everyone that the
spirits were around and about them in their daily lives, and knew
what everyone was up to.
“
Do you really think that I believe in that bloody nonsense?
The dead talking to us?” Alan shook his head in mock pity. “I have
been working with the dead since I was a young boy and none of them
have ever spoken to me, I can tell you. Do you really think that I
want to spend the evening sitting in the dark with a bunch of
people I don’t even like? To do what? Talk to the man who got me
into this mess in the first place?”
“
It doesn’t excuse you helping yourself to other people’s
belongings. Theft is one thing, but why murder?”
“
Minerva Bobbington had a gob on her, that’s why. She was
always whining about that missing jewellery of her aunts. She came
around to the parlour several times as though she expected me to
materialise the bloody stuff out of my drawers. When she didn’t get
what she wanted, she told everyone about it; as many people as she
could, when she could. I had to shut her up.”
“
So you killed her. You used a piece of muslin – very
inventive by the way – in her drink to scare her?” Mark tipped his
head to one side and studied the satisfaction in Bentwhistle’s
eyes. Was the man mad? Or was he just backed into a corner and
determined to do whatever he had to do to get himself out of the
mire? Whatever the case, Mark had to keep him talking. The issue of
the thefts was going to be difficult to prove because they could
only go on vague descriptions. Getting Bentwhistle to admit to his
crimes in front of so many witnesses would mean that a trial was
merely a procedure Bentwhistle had to go through on his way to
prison.
“
Why the séance, though? Why kill Minerva at the séance with
so many people around?”
“
Because it was dark and everyone was scared. I don’t move in
Minerva’s circles. Do you really think I want to sit and share tea
with that odious harridan and trade gossip and lies? The circle
gave me the perfect opportunity to slip the muslin into her drink.
I was going to give a message at the table to warn her to keep her
mouth shut, and hoped that the muslin in her drink would scare her.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the opportunity to give a message
because of the stupid stool and the other ridiculous messages given
by someone else. Luckily, the muslin worked better than I had
hoped, and I shut her up once and for all.”
“
It’s murder, Bentwhistle. You took the woman’s life.” Mark
sighed and shook his head. “Hugo was a gossip, so you went and had
tea with him in his shop. Because your parlour is directly across
the street, you could choose your moment and get to Hugo’s without
too many people seeing you. Even if they did notice, they wouldn’t
think anything odd about you being in the street. Was he gossiping
too?”
“
Hugo and that Harriett have always got their heads together.
She is always scurrying over there and having tea with him while
she traded the gossip she hears in the tea shop. It’s scandalous
the way those two fed on other people’s lives.”
“
Do you know what beggars belief, Bentwhistle?” Mark didn’t
wait for Bentwhistle to reply. “You have lived in this village
nearly all of your life and you don’t know anyone. Hugo Montague
was a lonely old man whom Harriett had a cup of tea with
occasionally while they talked about their own lives. Nobody else’s
lives, you understand. Minerva Bobbington, had every right to ask
if you had seen her jewels and, of course, she would be upset about
them going missing. Killing Minerva, Hugo and Harriett, to silence
them wouldn’t stop the gossip.” It nearly choked him to include
Harriett in the trio of deaths, but he had to do it. He was
watching Bentwhistle closely, and had seen the man glance down at
the coffin when he had mentioned Harriett’s name. Mark felt
strangely sick at what he was potentially going to find beneath the
lid. “More and more people are gossiping now about the deaths, and
looking for links in all sorts of areas, including yours. What did
you intend to do? Work your way around the village, killing people
off whom you think are talking about you? Did you plan to keep
stealing from the dead and hope the relatives were too upset to
notice that their heirlooms were going missing? What then? What did
you hope to do when this all ended? Do you really think you can dig
yourself out of financial debt through thieving from the dead, and
build on your business by creating your own customers?”
Mark
heaved a sigh. While he knew that he had to get Bentwhistle to
admit to his crimes in front of witnesses to be able to ensure he
met the full force of justice, he was acutely aware that Harriett
was entombed in the box at his feet. If she needed medical
assistance, Mark had to get it to her as quickly as possible. He
nodded to Isaac and Fred, who moved to stand behind Bentwhistle.
Mark watched the funeral director glance warily at the men and
shift uncomfortably. He wondered if the killer would have the
audacity to try to make a run for it, but the sight of the men from
the pub scattered about the church yard seemed to deter
him.
“
You cannot prove the thefts,” Bentwhistle snorted defiantly.
“Having nothing more than a vague description of the items isn’t
enough.”
“
Oh, I think you will find that I have more than enough
evidence against you to stand up in court and make sure that you go
away for a very long time. We already have descriptions of you from
the pawn brokers, and have already obtained several of the items
back. These have been identified by relieves of your customers as
stolen. The case is coming together against you. Fred, arrest him
and get him out of here.”
Mark
didn’t bother to watch Fred, and several of the men from the pub,
escort Bentwhistle out of the churchyard. No sooner had Bentwhistle
turned away than Mark bent over the coffin. He flicked a worried
look at Isaac.
“
Help me get this lid off,” he ordered darkly. He tugged and
pulled before a curse broke the silence.
“
Here, use these,” Charles offered and began to unscrew the
shiny silver knobs on the lid. Several hands moved forward to help
and, within minutes, the lid was lifted.
“
Jesus,” Charles whispered as he stared in horror at Harriett,
who was laid out with her arms across her chest as though she was
dead. Her head was matted with blood, which had stained the white
silken material that covered the inside of the coffin.
Mark
couldn’t speak. His heart hammered and a huge lump had formed in
his throat that almost threatened to choke him. He gently slid his
arms under her shoulders and knees, and lifted her carefully out of
the casket. She was still warm. Unable to find the words necessary
for even practical things, he simply stood and cradled her. He was
only vaguely aware of Isaac ordering someone to fetch the
doctor.
“
Is she alive?” Isaac demanded.
Mark
buried his face in her neck and almost wept with relief at the
faint flutter of her breath on his cheek. “She is.”
“
Let’s get her home. The doctor can see her there. We have to
get her warm and dry.”
It was
the most that Mark had ever heard Charles say, but each word was
enshrined on his memory. He knew that until the day he died, he
would never forget the feelings that battered him as he stalked
across the churchyard. He ignored the sea of curious faces that
lined the streets of the village as he carried her home.
Once
there, he had no sooner placed her on the bed than the heavy thump
of boots on the stairs heralded the arrival of David
Woods.
“
Isaac has already told me,” David announced as he swept
through the door. “Let me check her over. I will come downstairs
and see you when I have done.”
Mark
shook his head. Nothing would persuade him to be parted from her
from now on. He glanced at Babette who had appeared in the doorway
but, rather than leave, he dragged a chair closer to the bed and
took a seat. He couldn’t break contact with her and continued to
hold her hand while David carried out his examination. Babette
returned at some point with a bowl of water and began to help David
bathe and dress the cut on the back of Harriett’s head. The
discomfort they caused was enough to bring her out of her
sleep.
“
Thank God,” Mark murmured and shoved some strips of cloth to
one side to sit beside her. He drew her tenderly into his arms and
positioned her head against his shoulder while David finished
dressing the wound.
“
She will be a little groggy for a while, but there is no sign
of any other injuries apart from cuts to her hands. I will leave
some powders for the headache. Meantime, I will be back later to
check on her.” David gave Mark a rueful look. “I left a surgery
full of curious patients who will be banging on the door with
impatience. If there is anything else, just send for me again. I am
only just down the road.”
“
Thank you, David. I am just glad that you were so close and
able to get here so quickly.”
Even the
sight of her blood on the white pillow case made Mark’s blood boil
and he stared blankly at the wall for several long moments while he
tried to get his shattered emotions under control.
“
I will just be downstairs, Mark. You look like you could do
with a cup of tea.”
Mark
snorted and shook his head. “We need to get hold of the vicar if he
is available.”
Babette
froze and turned to stare at him in alarm. “She is alright,” she
protested. “The doctor said so. Hugo’s funeral can go ahead without
Harriett. I am sure everyone will completely
understand.”
“
I know. Harriett isn’t fit enough to go anywhere for the time
being but I can promise you, Babette, that when she is, the first
place we are going back to is that church.”
“
Why?”
“
Because the only way that I can remain in my job and stay
safe is with the knowledge that Harriett is alive and well, at home
where she belongs, where I can check on her whenever I need to,
provide for her, love her, and give her anything and everything she
wants, whenever she wants it. I won’t settle for anything
less.”
“
You love her,” Babette whispered gently. She felt the sting
of tears for her own personal loss and quickly blanked out all
thought of Andrew.
“
I love her,” Mark whispered and placed a gentle kiss on her
hair.
“
I heard that,” Harriett murmured shakily.
“
I hope you did, darling, because I meant every word of it. I
know that we haven’t known each other very long, but we are meant
to be together. I fell in love with you from the first second I set
eyes on you in your sitting room downstairs, and I won’t settle for
anything less than a lifetime with you.”
He hoped
to God that when they were old and grey he would be the one to die
first because he never, ever wanted to see Harriett in a casket
again.
Harriett
peered up at him, only vaguely aware that Babette had quietly crept
out of the room and left them alone. “What happened to
me?”
“
What can you remember?” Mark frowned down at her. If she
couldn’t remember, there was no reason why she had to know the
macabre details. He could ensure that gossip would work in her
favour for once, and nobody would speak about the true nature of
her ordeal.
“
I can remember seeing Alan Bentwhistle in the door of the
ante room but nothing else.” Harriett frowned. Her head ached
fiercely and she lifted a trembling hand to the large lump at the
back of her head. “What happened?”
Mark
briefly sketched details of what he thought may have happened, but
left out the business with the coffin. At some point in their long
life together he would undoubtedly have to tell her but, for the
time being, she had been through enough trauma.
Now
wasn’t the time to look back, it was the time to look forward to a
brighter, more positive future. Together.
“
I cannot believe that he would be so duplicitous, so callous,
toward people he has known for so long.”
“
There is nothing a desperate man won’t do,” Mark replied
knowingly. He placed a tender kiss on her head. “I know that we
have some courting to do.” His voice held a hint of gentle humour
to it that made her smile in return “But I am afraid it is going to
have to be a very short period of courting.”
“
Oh, why is that?” Harriett should have been scandalised that
she was not only in her bedroom alone with Mark, but he was seeing
her in such a disreputable state. She glanced down at her dirty and
soiled clothes unconcernedly. The blatant look of adoration on his
face was enough to assure her that he wasn’t bothered in the least
about the way she looked right now.