Constable Cronin drove the short distance to King’s Toll and pulled up outside Elizabeth Brewer’s house. Henry immediately had the feeling of something being wrong, and when he knocked on the door, this was confirmed by a neighbour coming out to see who he was.
‘But don’t you know already that she’s not here? She’s in the hospital. Man, she was attacked last night, in her own home – surely you know that?’
Henry exchanged a glance with the equally puzzled Walker. ‘Where has she been taken?’ he asked. They were told that she was in Market Harborough, that the local constable had seen to things, whatever that meant. Then, asking if they could get inside the cottage, they were told to go round the back.
The back door hung loosely on its hinges; it looked as though it had been kicked open. Inside the previously neat cottage, furniture had been overturned and the deep reddish brown of blood stained the braided rug beside the now cold fire.
Henry knelt and examined the bloodstain. It was extensive and seeped through to the floor beneath. He realized from talking to the neighbour that she had survived only because they had heard the noise of the door being broken down. Whoever had done this had been confident they could attack quickly and be gone before anyone could see them. He had no doubt the intent had been to kill, but Elizabeth Brewer had apparently still been alive when they had fled the scene – although they may not have realized that. Looking at the amount of blood she must’ve lost, he did wonder if that was still the case.
‘Why were we not informed?’ he asked Walker.
‘Different divisions within the county. Although geographically King’s Toll is closer to East Harborough and even closer to Husbands Bosworth, it falls within the purview of Market Harborough, and to make it even more complicated, the local constable they mentioned lives in this village. Of course, he would be first summoned, and equally naturally he would report to his own station. It seems to me she is lucky to have survived at all.’
‘Indeed. So that will be our next destination, and presumably we will need to speak to your colleagues in the local constabulary. If I leave that job to you, I will see what I can find out from Elizabeth Brewer, if she can speak to me. If she is still alive.’
They were silent on the fifteen-minute drive. Henry found himself regretting that this woman might be hurt or dead; he had liked her, even if he had not believed everything she had told him. Constable Cronin dropped him at the hospital and then took Walker the short distance to the police station. A few minutes later, Henry was standing beside Elizabeth Brewer’s bed, struck by how much could change in so short a time. She was still alive, just, but had lost a great deal of blood and lapsed into unconsciousness. Her doctor was not sure if or when she would wake.
She looked like a shadow of herself, Henry thought, the powerful and somewhat squared-off woman now diminished and deathly pale.
‘Can you tell me what might’ve happened to her?’ he asked the doctor.
‘From what I can gather, the neighbours heard the noise and the sound of a fight. Thankfully, they went to investigate very quickly and saw two men run away. Both had scarves tied across their faces, but one was tall and the other not so much. One of the neighbours gave chase; the man and his wife who live immediately next door went inside and found Miss Brewer lying on the rug beside the fire. They thought she must be dead, but then they saw her hand move. It is possible that she fought back. There was a poker lying close by, but she had no real chance against two of them. It was the stab wounds that were most serious.’ He lifted one of the blankets and showed Henry the bandages wrapped around the woman’s waist, thickly padded on one side. ‘She was lucky; it’s likely the blade went wide and there was no time for a second strike. She was lucky also that her neighbour had the wisdom to pack the wound and bind it tight.’
‘Miss Brewer had nursing training,’ Henry said. ‘I wonder if she was conscious enough to instruct her.’
‘I don’t know, but it undoubtedly saved her life.’
‘Has she regained consciousness since being brought here?’
‘Intermittently. But there’s no way of knowing when or if that will happen again. She lost a lot of blood – surgery was lengthy, and there was also the blow to her head, although whether that was inflicted by her attackers or when she fell, I can’t tell.’
Henry nodded. ‘If she regains consciousness, would you be so good as to inform me? If you contact the police station in East Harborough, they can likely get a message to me. This evening I will be at the Three Cranes Hotel, so you could reach me there.’
The doctor promised that instructions would be left at the nurses’ station, and Henry figured that was all he could do for the time being. Why had she been attacked? Why now? What did her attackers think she had told him? What did they think she knew? What had she done to bring this rage down upon her?
He waited just inside the reception area until Cronin and Walker returned. Walker had been able to read the statements taken from the neighbours, but they added little to what Henry had found out, apart from the confirmation of his suspicion that Elizabeth Brewer had been just conscious and able to instruct her friends in how to bandage her wound. It had been the landlord of the pub opposite the house who had taken her to the hospital, laying her on the back seat of his car, wrapped in blankets. That, too, Henry considered, had contributed to her survival. Whoever had attacked her probably assumed that she was now dead and was no longer a threat, and Henry knew that could be to their advantage.
He remembered belatedly that they had intended to speak to Percival White that evening and made a mental note that he must contact the journalist when they got back to the hotel. He made a second mental note to ask about Aiden Hughes, and if Mr White had ever come across the name, but there seemed little more that could usefully be done this evening. The investigation into Elizabeth Brewer’s attack was out of his hands, and there was a lot to think about. He found that he was eager to sit down with Mickey and discuss what they knew so far and plan what to do next.
Back at the police station, Walker announced that he would have to stay for a little while to catch up on some paperwork, and Henry and Mickey left to return to the hotel. Mickey was shocked to hear about the attack on Elizabeth Brewer.
‘Whose cage did she rattle?’ he wondered.
‘I think we may be closing in,’ Henry said. ‘Someone clearly believes that Miss Brewer told us something, or more likely that she knows something she could tell the police. We just have to hope that she wakes up.’