‘Mr Turton is in the hedgerow on the walk approaching the big gazebo,’ I told the first outdoor lad I saw. ‘Take the fastest horse in the stable and tell Dr Highworth the young man could well die. And tell them to saddle a horse for me.’
He blenched; I probably did myself at saying aloud what I feared.
I couldn’t fault his obedience. He was into the stables and on a horse in moments. As he clattered off, I ran indoors, calling for towels and sheets and blankets and a team of footmen to carry them. At home at Thorncroft there would have been an instant and efficient response; here it seemed I had to ask for each item from a bemused maid. At last Mason appeared, and took control. I could dash back into the bright sun again, to be greeted by an alert stable lad who threw me swiftly into the saddle. ‘We’ll need a gate to carry him on, too,’ I shouted over my shoulder.
At Thorncroft the trustees had set a whole wing set aside to nurse Lord Croft. Gradually it had become a well-run hospital for villagers and estate workers too, and always ready to deal with emergencies. Our excellent village doctor was a man to whom I would trust my life; I could only hope that Highworth, who had not endeared himself to me, would be half as good and would know where his patient could be safely treated – certainly, in my view, not the house. There was still no sign of him as I galloped back along the quiet walks – and then I recalled his bad back. Pray God it did not require him to drive a sedate dog-cart.
Harriet had propped her sunshade over Jeremy’s head to protect him from the increasingly warm sun. Pads and bandages made with her petticoat and my shirt covered his wounds – I realized for the first time that I had stripped it off and not replaced it. But she was not there. What could have separated her from a young man she was so protective, so fond of? I was torn in two: should I stay with him, talking to him and trying to bring him back to consciousness, or go in search of the person who mattered most to me on earth?
A scream. A loud scream! But it wasn’t her voice. Surely it was a man’s? Abandoning Turton, I ran towards the thicket from which the sound seemed to be coming – to find Harriet, still tearing at a cloth that blindfolded her, stumbling towards me. As I unbound her she pulled something from her mouth – pieces of paper?
‘Who did this? Has he hurt you?’
‘Someone – a man – I don’t know. And I am unhurt, I think. A bit of a headache and my dignity apart. How’s Jeremy?’ She clutched my hands in fear.
‘Alive. Highworth should be on his way by now. But you – what happened?’
‘Someone came up behind me. Hit me on the back of my head, but not – I don’t think it was very hard, because I’m still just about able to think.’ She ran her fingers over her thick chignon. ‘He tied this over my face. Dragged me off.’
‘Good God – did he … did he …?’
‘Whatever he intended, he did not manage it. I remembered my hat-pin.’ She smiled, almost impishly. ‘The one you bought me in Venice. And I stuck it quite deep into him. That’s when he let me go. Matthew, what if I killed him?’
‘What if you did? It would save me the job.’
Shouts from the path told us Mason and his team were on the way. Some farm lads were staggering in the rear, carrying the gate I had asked for. We could make the young man as comfortable as we could – but we still awaited the doctor. I sent two of the youths to see if there was any sign of the monster who had attacked Harriet – ‘No, don’t touch anything he may have left, and don’t touch him either!’ I told them, more out of duty than a hope the assailant would survive intact.
‘Can we give chase, like, if we see him? Run fast, we do.’
‘I’m sure you do. But just follow him – see where he goes, but don’t try to stop him.’
The farm lads dumped the gate, rolling up their sleeves as if they intended to lift the still unconscious Turton. I joined them.
Shaking though she was, Harriet stopped us. ‘Dr Page would insist he was kept still until a physician had examined him. I am sure Dr Highworth would want the same. I do believe Jeremy’s pulse is stronger, less tumultuous. Maybe – dare I risk using my vinaigrette to see if that helps him? And maybe someone could fetch some water?’
Mason proffered a flask. ‘I have brandy, ma’am, if you think that would help?’
She took it, doing no more than moisten the boy’s lips. ‘Thank you. But some cold water to treat the bruises? The colder the better.’
‘Ice? The ice-house is just beyond the gazebo.’ Off he ran.
As he did so, up ran one the lads I had sent to see if there was any sign of Harriet’s attacker. There wasn’t – Harriet might have hurt him but not, it seemed, fatally.
The boy was a scrawny child with the biggest knees I’d seen working their way through breeches that had surely been worn by many thin legs before his. Tugging his forelock he said, ‘Please, your honour, you can see where someone’s been, your honour. And there is stuff caught in tree branches and some paper. We thought it best, begging your pardon, if we left it where you could see it, there being not a breath of wind to blow it away. Albert is standing guard, just in case anyone comes back to tidy up, like. I could show it you if you want, sir.’
‘It sounds like a good idea, but it’s Constable Davies who needs to see it. He’s the one in charge, after all.’ And as if on cue he came riding up. It was more than a canter than a gallop, and he didn’t manage a heroic leap from the horse; in fact it was the cautious approach I had come to expect from him. But at least there was now someone with genuine legal authority among us.
‘Dr Highworth is following me, Mr Rowsley,’ he said. ‘Damn whoever let that bridge fall down – it means everyone has to go the long way round.’
‘Of course. How could I have forgotten that?’
‘He’s in his gig – it’s got a little trailer attached, which he uses to carry any patient who can’t walk. He keeps a spare bed chamber for patients – his wife is already preparing a bed – who need help and can afford it, of course.’
‘What Mr Turton can’t pay, I will.’ At least I could now see the gig, which was coming at a very decorous pace. ‘Davies, this lad has found evidence you may want to look at before you move it. But it’s evidence of a man who attacked Harriet, and not necessarily the criminal who beat Mr Turton like this.’
An anxious glance at Harriet told him that Turton was in more immediate need. He knelt beside him, looking at each bruise as if he was a doctor. ‘Poor gentleman,’ he said at last, getting to his feet to peer at Harriet’s face. ‘And you, ma’am – you were attacked too?’
‘I retaliated,’ she said. ‘With my hat-pin. He screamed as if I had hurt him badly. I couldn’t get it out – and it was quite a favourite item.’
Ignoring the sudden tremor in her voice, he said, ‘Excellent. That should make him easier to track down and bring to justice. Right, young Morris, take me to Albert, and make it snappy.’
Dr Highworth’s examination of his patient was as frustratingly slow as his journey here. But no one wished to rush him. He was as thorough as Ellis Page would have been, which was praise indeed.
‘It is my belief that no bones are broken, but that he is suffering from a deep concussion possibly brought about by a fall when he was kicked and beaten. There may of course be internal bleeding, which would be regrettable: you did well, Mrs Rowsley, not to have him moved. Ah! Do I smell brandy?’
‘I moistened his lips with some – no more. And here is Mason bringing ice. For those poor bruises.’
‘Excellent. There is a widespread belief, which I do not share, that steak is a remedy for black eyes like this. My own preference is for ice. But not straight on to the skin, if you please. Wrapped in fabric.’ He looked about him expectantly. ‘Ah. You extemporized, I see. I have proper bandages in my bag, if someone would be good enough to pass it to me.’
At last, a slow procession round through the estate, the young men walking alongside the trailer which they could lift off the road and carry when it had to cover rough ground. The gate stayed where it was.
Davies called and beckoned us, Harriet bustling along as if she had simply spent a serene day in the garden. ‘Look what these clever lads have found. Eagle-eyed, that’s what they are.’
I slipped them appropriate coins. ‘Well done. Now, what can you see, lads?’
‘There’s a bit of material on that bush, see,’ said the one with knobbly knees. ‘And he’s left a footprint in the mud. Left boot. Right boot over there, we think. But we didn’t want to go trampling all over the place, see. That right, Albert?’
Puce with embarrassment, the boy nodded.
To my amazement, Davies dug in one of his tunic pockets, producing a tiny ruler, hinged in the middle – ivory? Bone? ‘My father was apprenticed to a carpenter,’ he said. ‘Matthew, could you write down the measurements if I call them out? We could really do,’ he reflected, ‘with young Mr Turton at this point, couldn’t we? To sketch the footprints.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Harriet said. ‘But I’m not in the same league as Jeremy. Just leave that ruler where I can see the markings, if you please. Oh, botheration – I find my hand is shaking.’ It was. But she battled on anyway and by the time she had finished her normal demeanour was almost restored. ‘Do you suppose that he will throw away his shoes? Or perhaps he doesn’t even know he’s left prints. Now, can one of you safely reach that piece of material?’
Albert almost literally swung from tree to tree – at least supporting himself by clinging on to one handhold while he reached for another branch.
‘Excellent – it looks like a piece of rather good gentleman’s suiting, doesn’t it?’
‘Would it be possible to repair a tear like that?’ Davies asked.
‘It depends where it is. I think it would show wherever it was, actually, especially if someone unused to darning tried it. Even an expert to be fair. It would be hard, would it not, to explain away the damage. But I would truly prefer not to go through gentlemen’s wardrobes myself, not now you are here to do it. Oh, dear me!’ She turned to Albert. ‘I’m sorry. I forgot you were hanging on by your fingertips. Can you try to reach the piece of paper? Thank you.’
What would someone looking at us from afar have thought? On this perfect day, with the bushes alive with birds, with plants ready to flower, and the sky the clearest blue, why were all these solemn faces looking at such tiny and probably insignificant scraps as if they were as precious as Holy Writ? And why should the trim and hatless woman, surrounded by urchins and tall men, be straightening out a disgusting mess she had retrieved from her pocket?
‘How dare he?’ she cried. ‘Look what he gagged me with – one of Jeremy’s sketches. What’s on the other piece of paper, Constable?’
‘Nothing special, ma’am. Any more than the sketch on your gag. I can’t see any reason why he should choose to destroy those, can you?’
I peered over her shoulder. The gag showed young Lord Webbe bowling; the other was a nice study of a bat. Entirely innocent, as far as I could see.
‘I suppose he could have just grabbed a couple of pages at random,’ Davies said doubtfully. ‘But somehow I don’t think he did.’
‘Both to do with cricket,’ she said. ‘But …’ She shrugged, almost helplessly.
‘If you’ve got a man capable of killing one or two people and attacking two more, I’d say there’s a corner of his mind where this makes sense. Ma’am, did you notice anything at all about him? Smell, touch, anything on his hands? I’m sorry if this seems impertinent, especially at the moment when you’ve had a double shock, like, and I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I really want you to think.’
‘There is something – it’s lurking. But the more I try to recall the further away it drifts. Does that make sense?’
‘Something to do with the bang on your head, I should expect,’ I said, rather too bracingly.
Davies watched her, eyes narrowed, head slightly on one side. Whenever Harriet did the same, she reminded me of a robin eyeing a morsel. Now he reminded me of a blackbird – less, perhaps, when he took off his heavy hat and mopped his brow with its red furrow where it had pressed into his flesh. ‘Sometimes when you are really thinking about something else a memory will come to you. And in this case it could be important. And it may not be very nice when it does.’