Murder at the Ashmolean, page 23
‘I’m afraid not, ma’am. Which is why I’ve returned. There is a possibility that there may be some clues in his room as to where he may have gone, or who he may have sought refuge with, and with your permission I’d like to search it.’
‘I thought you searched it before,’ she snapped.
‘I did, but I may have overlooked something. A note left in a drawer, or something.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want your men tramping all over my house.’
‘I can assure you, ma’am, it will be just me. And, in order to make sure that nothing is disturbed, or if it is it’s replaced properly, I wonder if I could trouble you for your maid to accompany me while I’m in your son’s room.’
Mrs Stevens hesitated, then nodded.
‘Very well. Just in case anything needs putting back the way it was.’ She turned to the maid, who was waiting nervously, and said, ‘You may accompany the inspector, Vera.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ said Pitt.
He gestured for the maid to lead the way and followed her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to Piers Stevens’ room. Once inside, he turned to her and said gently, ‘I’ll be frank, miss. I haven’t come to search Mr Piers’ room, I’ve come to search the house, because it’s my belief that he’s hiding here.’
She stared at him, her face going white, and she began to tremble.
‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s not.’
‘Yes, he is,’ said Pitt, firmly but gently. ‘Now, I can call in a large squad of policemen who will comb every part of this house, from the attic to the cellar, and every outhouse. But that will upset Mrs Stevens very much, and there is the risk that when we find him, he will make a run for it and could be seriously injured as he attempts to escape. Or, you can tell me where he is, and I’ll go and have a gentle word with him and persuade him it’s in his best interests to come along with me quietly, without all the hoo-ha of a full-scale search. I promise you he’ll be treated fairly and gently, and he’ll be safe. I give you my word on that.’
He fixed his eyes on the maid, who averted her head from his gaze.
‘He’s not here,’ she said weakly.
Pitt said nothing while he studied her, then he said, ‘In that case I’ll go to Mrs Stevens and tell her what I suspect, and institute a full search. If she asks me why I think that, I’ll have to tell her because I believe you’ve given him sanctuary here and kept him supplied with food while he’s been in hiding. When we find him, which I know we will, and my suspicion is shown to be correct, I’ll leave it to you to consider what Mrs Stevens’ attitude to you will be.’ He saw tears fill the maid’s eyes, and berated himself for bullying her, but he knew it was the only way to get her to admit his quarry was hiding in the house. ‘However, if you tell me where he is, and I take him quietly, I’ll tell Mrs Stevens later that it was a clue I found in his room that led me to find him elsewhere, and there will be no suspicion that you were involved. Either way, I’ll take him in. But doing it with a full search puts him at risk, and also your position here when Mrs Stevens discovers he was in the house all the time.’
Vera’s head dropped, and she began to cry. Gently, Pitt led her to a chair and sat her down while she sobbed.
‘He needs help,’ he said. ‘He can’t spend his life being hunted. It will be the death of him. You know that.’
‘It wasn’t his fault,’ she moaned.
‘I know,’ said Pitt. ‘And I’ll help him all I can. Now, where is he?’
‘In the cellar,’ she whispered.
‘How many cellars are there?’ asked Pitt.
‘Just the one. There used to be a wine cellar, but that was knocked through into the other one.’
‘And the entrance?’
‘Outside the back door,’ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘It’s a low door set into the wall. The steps go down.’
‘Thank you,’ said Pitt.
He turned and headed for the door, and behind him her voice begged, ‘You promise you won’t hurt him.’
‘I promise,’ said Pitt.
The wagon, with Jeb Pick at the reins and Sergeant Mills beside him, and Daniel and Abigail sitting in the back, trundled through the village, then about three miles over a rough unmade road before pulling to a halt in front of a two-storey farmhouse with two small outbuildings next to it, and two large barns across a courtyard from the house.
As they dismounted from the wagon a woman appeared from the house.
‘Good morning, Jenny. Is your brother, Joe, about?’ enquired Mills.
Jenny Woodman immediately looked worried and cast a nervous look back towards the house.
‘Joe? No. Why should he be?’
‘These people here are from Oxford and they’ve got orders for Joe to be taken to Kemp Hall to answer some questions.’
‘What sort of questions?’ demanded Jenny. ‘About what? Joe hasn’t done anything wrong!’
‘Then he won’t worry about answering the questions,’ said Mills.
‘Well, he’s not here,’ she said defiantly.
A man wearing rough clothes appeared from a barn and approached them.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded. ‘I heard raised voices.’ He looked at Mills and Pick and asked, ‘What are you here for, Jasper? And you, Jeb Pick, both in your uniforms?’
‘We’ve come to talk to Joe, if he’s here,’ said Mills.
‘I’ve told them he isn’t!’ shouted Jenny. ‘Why can’t you leave us alone?’
‘Now, now, Jenny, there’s no need for that shouting,’ said Mills gently.
‘Unless she’s doing it to alert someone in the house,’ Daniel murmured to Mills.
Mills nodded. ‘And there he is,’ he said, gesturing at a figure who’d appeared from the back of the house and was running towards a barn. ‘He’s going for a horse.’ He turned to Pick and said, ‘Constable.’
‘Ar,’ said Pick.
He leapt down from the driving seat of the wagon and, to Daniel’s and Abigail’s surprise for a large man, ran at an astoundingly fast pace in pursuit of the escaping Joe Goddard.
‘No!’ howled Jenny Woodman.
While Daniel and the sergeant ran after the speeding blacksmith, Abigail went to comfort the distraught farmer’s wife.
‘They won’t hurt him,’ she told her.
‘He’s getting away,’ said Daniel, as he realised that Goddard had quickened his flight and was definitely putting distance between himself and the blacksmith. Goddard had decided to abandon running to the barn and was instead making for open countryside, sure that the wagon wouldn’t be able to follow him at speed.
Suddenly, Pick stopped and reached down, and Daniel saw he’d picked up a small stone. Pick stood, as if weighing the stone in his hand, and suddenly he threw it.
The stone hit Goddard on the back of the head, sending him tumbling to the ground, where he lay.
Jenny Woodman let out a scream. ‘You’ve killed him!’
But Goddard wasn’t dead, just dazed, because they saw him trying to struggle to his knees. But before he could push himself up, Pick was on him, pushing him back to the ground. Daniel and Mills hurried and joined the blacksmith, and Mills dropped to his knees and clapped a pair of handcuffs on the fallen Goddard’s wrists, hauling him to his feet.
‘That was an incredible throw!’ said Daniel in admiration to the blacksmith.
‘Ar,’ said Pick.
At a nod from Mills, he took hold of Goddard and marched him towards the wagon.
‘Jeb’s the star of our cricket team,’ said Mills as he and Daniel followed them. ‘As a fielder he’s second to none. He can throw a ball and demolish a wicket from the boundary.’ He then stopped and lowered his voice and added, so that only Daniel could hear him, ‘This is also payback for Jeb for the way Joe made his life a misery when they were kids growing up here. You see how big Jeb is. Well, he was always big, and a bit slow, both in his movements and his thinking. He was alright, don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with him, but he took a bit longer that most to understand some things, and Joe used to tease him. Well, more than teased him. He was cruel. He used to call him Jeb Thick. And he’d take Jeb’s stuff and hide it and get him into trouble with Jeb’s dad, and Jeb’s dad was a hard man. Very hard. There was no softness about Reuben Pick. He had the forge before Jeb. Jeb was his dad’s apprentice and he took it over when his dad died. And now he’s got Joe Goddard in handcuffs.’
‘Everything comes round in the end and catches up with you,’ said Daniel. ‘I was told the Indians call it karma.’
‘I expect they’re right,’ said Mills. ‘They usually are.’
Jenny Woodman was standing sobbing, but she broke off as her brother neared her and made to go to him.
‘It’s alright, sis,’ said Goddard airily. ‘They’ve got nothing on me. It’s all a mistake. You’ll see.’
‘I promise you, I’ll see he comes to no harm,’ Abigail assured the unhappy woman.
Toby Woodman stood and watched the scene, his face showing his anger. ‘I told you it was trouble, him coming here!’ he stormed at his wife. ‘It always is with him!’ Then, as Jenny Woodman subsided into more sobs of misery, he went to her and pulled her close to him in a comforting hug. ‘I’m sorry, lass,’ he said.
Pitt stood in the rear yard, looking at the low door and wondering if Stevens was still hiding in the cellar, or if he’d sneaked out. But the yard was enclosed by a high brick wall, with no rear access. If he had sneaked out, he would have had to pass the constable at the front door.
Pitt tried the handle of the door, and as it opened, he heard a scuttling sound from below. The sound was too heavy for rats.
He stepped into the darkness and sat down on the top step of the short flight that led downwards.
‘Mr Stevens,’ he said quietly. ‘This is Inspector Pitt from the Oxford police. I know you’re here and I’ve given my word to someone who cares for you very much that I won’t harm you. I made that promise and I intend to keep it.
‘If you come with me now, there is no need for your mother to know that you were hiding in the house, and that the maid has been looking after you. As I say, Vera cares for you, and I believe you care for her. I don’t think you’d want her to be dismissed from this house, without a reference, which is what will happen to her if your mother discovers she’s been harbouring you here.
‘So those are the two options. One, you come with me quietly and your mother will never know you were here, and I promise you will be looked after and not mistreated in any way. The other: I send in a squad of policemen who will take you out forcibly, and the resultant fuss and noise will mean that Vera’s role in hiding you will be revealed to your mother. The choice is yours.’
There was silence, and for a moment Pitt wondered whether he’d been wrong, and Stevens had managed to get away and he’d just been talking to himself. But then there came a shuffling sound, and a nervous voice asked, ‘You promise Vera won’t be named?’
‘I promise,’ said Pitt.
‘And my mother won’t know I was here?’
‘I promise,’ repeated Pitt.
‘And you won’t hurt me?’
‘I promise,’ said Pitt for a third time.
There were more shuffling sounds, then from the darkness a short, forlorn, dishevelled figure emerged from the darkness with his hands held up in surrender.
As Inspector Pitt led Piers Stevens quietly along the passageway to the front door, he heard Mrs Stevens call out imperiously from the drawing room, ‘Is that you, Inspector?’ Pitt glanced at Stevens, who looked panicky.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he called back. ‘I was just coming to see you to say goodbye.’
He ushered Stevens to the front door, where he handed him over to the constable.
‘Keep an eye on him,’ he whispered. ‘But don’t hurt him.’
With that, Pitt hurried back to the drawing room. Just before he entered, he saw Vera standing on the stairs, looking anxiously down at him. He nodded and gave her a thumbs up sign, then stepped into the drawing room.
‘You’ve been an inordinately long time, Inspector,’ Mrs Stevens reprimanded him.
‘Yes, and my apologies for that, ma’am. But I may have found some information that will help us find your son. As soon as I’ve located him, I’ll report back to you.’
‘Please don’t,’ said Mrs Stevens. ‘I don’t wish to be involved any further in this sordid affair. If you find him, then deal with him as you see fit. I have no wish to receive any further information about him. As far as I’m concerned, he is dead to this family, so I don’t anticipate seeing you again.’
‘I understand, ma’am,’ said Pitt. ‘And please accept my condolences.’
‘Your expressions of concern in this matter are irrelevant to me,’ said Mrs Stevens stiffly. ‘I wish you goodbye.’
Pitt bowed, and left. Stevens was waiting by the front door next to the constable. Pitt noticed he was still trembling. The inspector took him by the arm and guided him out of the house to the street. As he closed the door behind them, his last sight was of the forlorn and desolate Vera, still standing on the stairs.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The handcuffed Josiah Goddard had remained silent during the journey to Oxford, after one defiant statement of ‘I’m innocent!’ just before the wagon set off. Sergeant Mills drove, having left Jeb Pick behind to mend the broken axle of his cart. ‘Jeb can do it quicker than I can, and make a better job of it,’ he told Daniel and Abigail. Daniel and Abigail also remained mostly silent during the journey, not wanting to say anything that might give ammunition to Goddard when it came to Inspector Pitt interviewing him. Mills was happy to do the talking as he drove, pointing out places of interest they passed, the sergeant obviously very proud of the Oxfordshire countryside and keen to show it off to these visitors from London.
They pulled into the courtyard at the rear of Kemp Hall, and Daniel helped Goddard down from the back of the wagon while the sergeant tethered the horse. That done, Daniel, Abigail, Mills and Goddard made for the entrance to the police station, with Goddard uttering a last defiant, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong!’
As they entered the station, they were surprised to see Inspector Pitt waiting for them.
‘You were expecting us?’ asked Abigail.
‘No, I’d just brought in a prisoner myself and handed him over to the turnkey when I saw the wagon pull into the yard.’
‘You found Piers Stevens?’ queried Daniel.
‘I did. He was exactly where you said he’d be, in the cellar of his house.’ He turned to Mills, who was holding Goddard by the collar of his coat. ‘It’s good to see you again, Jasper.’
‘And you, Bradley. And as you can see, I’ve brought you something. Meet Josiah Goddard, who I believe you’re looking for.’
‘I am indeed,’ said Pitt.
‘I’ve done nothing wrong!’ said Goddard defiantly.
‘What do you want done with him?’ asked Mills.
‘We’ll hand him over to the turnkey for safe passage to a cell, and then you and I can go to my office and do the paperwork. Let’s have a brew together and catch up. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ said Mills.
Pitt turned to Daniel and Abigail. ‘Give me half an hour and then we’ll talk to Stevens.’
‘You haven’t done that yet?’ asked Daniel.
‘I was waiting for you to return.’ He grinned. ‘You have a knack of getting people to talk, Daniel. I want to see it in action.’
‘That suits us,’ said Daniel. ‘We’ll get a coffee and see you back here in half an hour.’
Daniel and Abigail left the station and made their way to a nearby coffee house.
‘Cake?’ Abigail asked Daniel as the waitress took their order for coffee.
‘No, thank you,’ said Daniel. ‘The whole protocol of when and when not to have cake is starting to disturb me. I shall go without.’
‘It will be interesting to see what Stevens says,’ said Abigail.
‘He’ll protest his innocence,’ said Daniel.
‘He might not,’ said Abigail. ‘He didn’t strike me as a particularly resilient character.’ She sipped at her coffee reflectively, then added, ‘But then, he doesn’t have to be to plead his innocence.’ She looked thoughtfully at Daniel, then said, ‘Inspector Pitt is right, you know. You do have the knack of getting people to talk. When I try and question people they seem to clam up or get evasive.’
‘I think some of them feel intimidated by you,’ said Daniel.
‘I’m not intimidating!’ protested Abigail.
‘Yes, you are.’ Daniel smiled. ‘When I first met you, I was intimidated by you.’
‘And now?’ demanded Abigail.
‘Now, I just love you. I still think you’re formidable and you’d make a terrifying opponent, but I’ve seen the softness underneath, the good heart and compassion. For me, that’s the real you. Along with the fact you’re the most clever person I’ve met.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘No, it’s true. You’re clever and tenacious. When you feel you’re right, you stick to it like a terrier.’
‘So do you.’
‘Yes, but not so obviously.’
‘Is that what I am: obvious?’ she demanded.
‘In a way,’ said Daniel. ‘Although I prefer to use the word “honest”. Straight.’
‘That’s two words.’
‘And pedantic,’ said Daniel.
They finished their coffee and returned to the police station, where Pitt was waiting for them.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ apologised the inspector. ‘It would have been rude to just send Jasper off without offering him a cup of tea and catching up.’
‘Absolutely understood,’ said Abigail. ‘You never know when you might need his help again.’
‘It’s not just that. Jasper’s had to deal with a lot of troubles over the past few years. One of his young sons drowned, then his father killed himself, but with all that to cope with he’s kept to his work and done a really good job out in that area. He’s very reliable, but sadly reliable people often aren’t appreciated by the powers that be; the go-getters seem to get the promotions and any awards that are going. So it’s nice to let Jasper know he’s appreciated.’ Then he gave a grin at Abigail and said, ‘And, of course, I never know when I might need his help again. Shall we go and talk to Piers Stevens?’
