Harriett (31 page)

“
We were going to interview her this morning,” Isaac drawled.
They had called by the ageing spinster’s house just after nine that
morning, only to find the house empty once again. “Do you want to
go after her?”

Mark
contemplated following the woman home but then shook his head. He
desperately needed to go back to Harriett and make sure that she
was alright.

“
We will go once we have found out what Miss Haversham has
discovered. At least we know now that Miss Smethwick is back in the
village. We will go around to hers once we have left the tea
shop.”

“
Wait!” Isaac growled and turned to study the window display
of the general store. When Mark drew alongside, he looked up at the
perfect view of the Coal Merchant’s yard directly behind them.
“Move to stand beside me, Mark, and look at the reflection in the
window. What do you see?”

Mark
scowled at him and studied the row of houses for several moments
before his gaze was drawn to the large green doors of Brewster’s
Coal Merchants. There, in the far corner of the yard, under a large
open-fronted storage barn was a large, perfectly black, carriage.
He didn’t need to search the yard to know that somewhere nearby
would be an equally large, very black horse.

“
Jesus,” Mark whispered. He longed to turn around, march
across the road and go and search the building, yard and
surrounding area but, given that the carriage had just been seen
used, daren’t alert the driver to the fact that they had been
discovered.

“
What do you want to do?”

“
Right now, I think that we ignore it. We will arrange for
Fred to keep watch. I want to see who comes and fetches it. They
have a lot of questions to answer.”

Neither
man even looked at the yard as they passed and appeared to be deep
in conversation as they returned to Harriett. Within minutes of
their return they had dispatched Bobby to find Fred.

“
Do you want me to go and question the coal merchant?” Isaac
growled as he hungrily eyed the large plate of cakes on the table
in the back room of the tea shop.

“
I will do it later.”

The men
sat down and helped themselves while Babette and Harriett began to
close the shop. As soon as the last patron had left and the closed
sign had been flipped over, Harriett recounted Miss Haversham’s
revelation.

CHAPTER
SIX
TEEN

Mark
was thoughtful when he followed Harriett into the sitting room at
the back of 29 Daventry Street an hour later. Given the latest
revelations about Miss Smethwick, he needed to question Harriett a
bit more before he decided whether to pay the old woman a visit
with Isaac, or the rest of Great Tipton Constabulary behind
him.

He took
what was rapidly becoming his habitual seat at the table while
Harriett removed her cloak and put a pot of water on to boil. It
seemed a strangely domesticated scene; one that he had never
considered before, but it felt eminently right, entirely
comfortable, and something he would be happy to do time and time
again.

“
I think that you have to be very careful around Miss
Smethwick,” Mark sighed. He didn’t want her to be terrified of
going out, just wary about Miss Smethwick. Right now Miss
Haversham’s suspicious, confirmed as accurate by Harriett and
Babette, was the only valuable piece of information they had, and
it pointed to the fact that Miss Smethwick had something to do with
the threats at the séance and the attempt on Harriett’s life.
Unfortunately, it also looked as though she was involved in the
murders although, as yet, he couldn’t prove it or link it all
together.

“
What do you think the person who is pretending to be Miss
Smethwick has done with the real one?”

Mark
looked at her pointedly over the table. “I think that we have to
take into account the fact that there have been two murders here,
Harriett. The only leads I have are the threat that was issued at
the séance table, and the reports that Miss Smethwick has recently
grown considerably younger.” He rose to lift the kettle off the
stove when it began to bubble and carefully poured the steaming
water into the teapot before he sat back down. “Can you remember
when you last saw the old Miss Smethwick?”

After
several moments, Harriett shook her head. She honestly couldn’t
remember.

“
Miss Smethwick has always been rather odd, you understand.
She is a spinster; has never married and, although she isn’t cruel,
has never been particularly friendly to children who played in the
street outside her house. Everyone generally keeps a wary distance.
She has a way of being rather spiteful with her comments, so I
don’t usually stand and chat with her. I think – and this is only
an approximation, you understand – that the first time I thought
she seemed a little odd was about three or four months ago.
Whereupon once she used to stand and chat to Mr Abernathy on the
high street, she now scurries past and keeps her head down. Along
with the facial blemish, and her unlined face, I think that the
woman in Miss Smethwick’s house is not the old woman at
all.”

“
Does Miss Smethwick still go to church?”

Harriett
nodded. “But she sits at the back of the church and doesn’t take in
her usual seat any more. It raised a few eyebrows when she first
did it, but she was limping at the time and everyone put her
seating choice down to the fact that she didn’t want to walk very
far.”

“
Does she have any relatives in the village, or the
surrounding area?”

Harriett
shook her head. “I think that she does have someone who visits
occasionally, but they live miles away and certainly haven’t been
around of late, I don’t think.”

“
So, it’s about three or four months ago that you can recall
the old Miss Smethwick?” Mark puffed out his cheeks and took a sip
of his tea.

The
sudden rattle of the front door was accompanied by the rapid clip
of footsteps as Babette returned home.

“
Tea?” Harriett called when Babette didn’t immediately appear
in the doorway.

“
No, thank you. I am going to get some supper on before
Charles comes back. Then I have to go to the church to sort out the
flowers for the Sunday service,” Babette replied as she stomped up
the stairs.

“
Would you care to stay for supper with us, Mark?” Harriett
felt a tiny thrill of anticipation sweep through her at the thought
of sharing a meal with him, and felt more than a little deflated
when he shook his head.

“
I am sorry, but I have to get back to the station before I
can call it a day,” he replied gently, although made no attempt to
leave the table. “I take it that you are not going out
tonight?”

Harriett
shook her head. “I have some embroidery to do, then I am going to
get an early night. With everything that has happened over the last
few days, I need to see if I can get a good night’s
sleep.”

“
You are worried about the carriage nearly running into
you?”

“
I cannot see what I could have done to anybody to make anyone
want to kill me. I mean, I go about my business. I don’t engage in
gossip much at all and am either here, or at work at the tea
shop.”

“
I don’t think it is you, Harriett,” Mark replied. He couldn’t
resist some kind of contact with her and pushed away from the table
to draw her out of her seat. Once she was settled comfortably in
his arms, he rested his chin on her head and savoured the feel of
her feminine curves against him. He could hear the soft thud of
Babette’s feet on the floor boards above and mentally thanked the
woman for her discretion.

“
I promise you here and now Harriett, that as long as you do
as I suggest and don’t take any risks, you will remain safe.
However, it is imperative that you stay away from Miss Smethwick
until I can check her out. I will go and see her because I need to
see for myself that everyone’s suspicions are accurate. I just need
to catch her at home.” He leaned back to look down at her face. He
didn’t raise the question as to what Miss Smethwick could be up to
that took her out of the house so early in the morning and kept her
away for practically most of the day, especially if most of the
villagers kept a wary distance and she had no relatives in the area
to visit.

Harriett
had to tip her head back to look him in the eye. He was so close,
and she couldn’t move away from the temptation he placed before
her. She felt slightly brazen in allowing him to hold her so
tightly but the warmth of his hold felt wonderful.

“
The sight of that carriage last night is enough to put paid
to any untoward outings. The house would have to be on fire for me
to go out at night,” she murmured softly.

Her
thoughts turned toward Babette’s mysterious journey in the early
hours of the morning. It was on the tip of her tongue to confide in
him: he was a police officer after all, but the tug of family
loyalty kept her silent. She knew that she had to raise the issue
with Babette, she just didn’t know how yet. It bothered her that
her aunt was being so secretive, but she couldn’t conceive of any
way that Babette might be linked to either of the murders, or the
black carriage. It just wasn’t like her aunt.

Mark
knew she was worried about what had happened and tried to find a
way to reassure her but couldn’t without giving her promises that
he wasn’t sure he could keep. It was going to take some time before
she started to feel secure again. He could only hope that those
doubts and insecurities would be eradicated once she moved into
their marital home.

When
Babette was on the stairs, Mark slowly eased his arms from around
Harriett but not before he dropped a very thorough kiss on her
lips. His mouth captured her soft gasp and he almost groaned with
the need to plunder. Instead, he was forced to loosen his hold and
only just managed to put some respectable distance between them
before Babette appeared in the doorway.

“
Oh, are you off already?”

“
I am afraid so, I have a few calls to make before I go back
to the station,” Mark sighed.

Although
29 Daventry Street was a far cry from the huge house he had grown
up in, he liked Harriett’s home. It was of an average size for a
middle class house, but was warm and inviting. He would much prefer
to stay and laze in front of the fire than traipse out into the
dark to think about death and theft. With a sigh, he captured
Harriett’s hand and drew her after him as he walked toward the
front door.

“
I will be back in the morning, same time, to escort you to
work again,” Mark warned her and took the opportunity of being
alone with her again to drop a kiss on her lips. “Lock the door
behind me.”

He
disappeared into the night and drew his jacket closer around him
while he waited for Harriett to slide the bolts home. As soon as
the metallic clunk resounded through the night air, he left the
front step and headed off down the street toward the
pub.

The
heady atmosphere of the busy pub was in contrast to the relative
quiet of the street outside. All of the shops were now shut,
leaving the streets practically deserted. Only a few stray people
hurried this way and that before night fell upon them completely.
The pub was full of miners and various tradesmen: most of the women
were at home cooking tea or getting children in bed. The air was
heavy with tobacco smoke and the heady scent of ale, but Mark paid
no attention to any of it as he made his way toward the bar. He had
already walked past the coal merchants and noted the gates closed
to trade.

“
Ale please, barman,” Mark dropped a couple of coins on the
table and waited until the barman returned. “Can you tell me if
Brewster from the Coal Merchants is here?”

“
Down there.” The barman nodded to the far end of the room.
“The one with the hair like a foggy day.”

Mark
immediately knew which man he meant. Not only was the coal man
still covered in black dust, and had a wild mass of tangled white
hair that stood out like a beacon on his head. Mark headed in his
direction and, moments later, placed his glass next to the man’s on
the bar. When the merchant glanced sideways at him, Mark
nodded.

“
You’re that Detective who is working on the murders, ain’t
ya?” Brewster muttered with a frown.

“
Afraid so.” Mark took a sip of his ale. “I need to ask you a
few questions.” He felt, rather than saw, the man’s hackles
raise.

“
I ain’t got nothing to do with it.”

“
I know. I just need to ask you a few questions.” He nodded to
an empty table in the corner of the room and waited for the man to
sit with him. As soon as they were seated, Mark leaned his elbows
on the rickety wooden table.

“
Is the black carriage in the yard yours?” He knew that it was
not likely to be but had to ask.

“
Do I really look like the kind of man who would use a bloody
contraption like that?” Brewster snorted.

“
Whose is it?”

Brewster
shrugged. “Damned if I know. A woman turned up one day for a basket
of coal. Don’t know her name. I don’t think she was from around
here. She started nosing around the yard, you know, petting the
horses, that kind of thing.”