Yew Tree Gardens (22 page)

‘Oh dear, walking too fast, am I?’ Chapman threw his head back and laughed. ‘As if a cripple like you could look after anyone.’

‘Mind your mouth or I’ll mind it for you,’ Horry growled. ‘And Mr Rycroft has a lot of friends who feel the same.’

‘If they’re all like you, heaven help him.’

They were at the house by then. Chapman flung open the door and stood with arms folded. ‘Go on! Search. I’ll wait for you here.’

By that time, others had joined them, including some women, one telling another what had happened.

‘We’ll all go inside,’ Jem said.

It took half an hour to search the house, which they did from the attics to the cellars. When they’d finished, Horry and Jem went to find Gil, who was pacing up and down the hall.

‘She isn’t here.’

‘Then he’s got her hidden somewhere else.’

‘Are you sure it’s him, sir?’ Jem asked.

‘As sure as I’m breathing,’ Gil said. ‘No one else would have kidnapped that child.’

‘But why would he do it?’

‘He’s claiming a share of my inheritance. He threatened me the other day, though he made sure there were no witnesses. Said I’d regret it.’

Jem frowned and looked thoughtfully at Chapman. ‘Wouldn’t hurt to search the whole village. I don’t like to think of a child being took.’

‘You go and wait on the village green, sir,’ Horry urged. ‘We’ll all report to you and then you can keep track of what’s going on.’

Bitter that he couldn’t do more to help, Gil went to sit on a wooden bench given to the village by Miss Bennerden. He sat rubbing his aching leg as people gathered at doors and garden gates. Some scowled at him, clearly on Chapman’s side, others gave him sympathetic looks.

A woman came hurrying down the path leading from Oakdene. Renie. He felt better just to see her.

She came to sit on the bench beside him and he picked up her arm, looking at the weal on her wrist. 

A woman who’d come to join him stopped to look. ‘Whatever happened to you, miss?’

‘Someone tied me up when they kidnapped Beth.’

‘I’ll fetch you some goose grease, and my daughter’s got the kettle on. I’ll bring you a cup of tea. It’s a comfort, a cup of tea is.’

Mrs Wyndham made her way across to join them, with one or two of her friends. Most of the men were still out searching.

One by one they came to report their inability to find any sign of the little girl.

They gathered in groups, murmuring, jerking round when any new person came into view.

‘Do you want to come and sit in my front room, sir?’ Mrs Wyndham asked. ‘You and the young lady.’

Gil realised most of them didn’t know Renie, so introduced her, adding, ‘We’re engaged to be married.’

‘That’s a blessing for you.’

‘Heaven help her with a husband like that,’ someone called.

Jem marched across to the smaller group of men and shoved one so hard, he stumbled backwards.

‘Here, what do you think you’re doing, Jem Rossley?’ The man shoved him back.

‘Making you mind your manners, Shep Horton.’

It looked as if a fight was about to erupt, with other men taking sides.

Renie had been staring at them idly, more concerned about Gil’s feelings than the crowd around them. Suddenly she noticed Shep’s boots and bounced to her feet. Most of the 
men were wearing very similar footwear, but one of his was tied with twine, the same sort of twine that had been used on her wrists.

‘It was him!’ she yelled, pointing. ‘He was the one who tied me up. He’s one of them.’

The men around him stepped back quickly, but Horry grabbed him as he turned to run.

‘Where is she?’ He shook Shep hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Horry drew his fist back and punched Shep, knocking him to the ground.

Jem joined in, hauling him to his feet by the front of his jacket and shaking him like a rat. ‘Let me deal with him. I’ve been itching to give him a thrashing ever since he kicked my dog and broke her back.’

As his fist connected with Shep’s cheek, the crowd gasped, but no one stepped forward to help till Chapman came striding across the green.

‘Stop! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

The group of Gil’s supporters at once surrounded him protectively, but Chapman wasn’t interested in him.

‘Lay one finger on me and I’ll have you up before the magistrate. Let me through.’

Reluctantly they fell back, but even as they did so, Horry laid into Shep again.

He lay on the ground, winded and groaning in pain.

‘Get up, man!’ Chapman said.

‘Stay away from me, you. This is all your fault. I said we shouldn’t take the little girl.’

Breaths were sucked in all around them and suddenly women were joining the circle.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Chapman started to walk away, shoving people aside and yelling, ‘You’ve searched my house. She isn’t there. This is nothing to do with me.’

Mrs Wyndham yelled, ‘Stop him! I’ve remembered something.’

The men immediately regrouped around him.

‘I’d like it if I have to force you to stay here, Chapman,’ Horry said with quiet menace.

‘He borrowed the church key. I saw him take it yesterday.’ She pointed her finger at Shep, who cringed. ‘And I saw him coming out of the churchyard this afternoon.’

Chapman laughed, but it sounded forced. ‘Go and search the church, then. You’ll not find the girl there.’

But a lad pushed through the crowd as he spoke, followed by Lizzie. ‘I know a hiding place in the crypt. I bet she’s in there.’

Renie watched Chapman lose his smile, watched anxiety replace it and knew they’d found the answer. ‘Can you take us to the hiding place, lad? Jack, isn’t it?’

The boy nodded. ‘Only don’t get mad at me. We only play there sometimes on rainy days an’ we don’t do no harm.’

‘No one will get mad at you, I promise.’

Gil stood up. ‘I’ll go with young Jack. I don’t want anyone frightening my girl.’

Renie went to walk by his side and Mrs Wyndham followed her.

The crowd held back, silent for the most part, though some were muttering to one another. Others made sure Chapman didn’t get away, ignoring his threats. Jem and 
Horry kept an eye on Shep, prodding him to go with them. One of his eyes was puffy and closed, there was a graze on his jaw and he was limping.

The front church door was locked.

‘Try the side one,’ a woman called.

The side door was locked as well.

‘Where’s the key?’ Gil asked Chapman.

‘How should I know? This is nothing to do with me.’

Mrs Wyndham pushed forward. ‘Try the back of the offering box in the church porch. I doubt there’ll be anything else inside. That’s where the curate hides his key because it’s a heavy old thing.’

There were one or two mirthless sniffs. No one liked the curate’s idea of what they called ‘the begging box’, so no one from the village put extra money into it. They put their pennies into the collection box on alternate Sundays and that was enough.

One of Lizzie’s brothers ran round to the front door and returned carrying the box.

It rattled as Gil took it from him. He undid the hasp at the back and tipped out a large key.

Mrs Wyndham took the key from him. ‘There’s a trick to this door.’ She slid it into the lock, tugged the door towards her and then the key turned. ‘There.’ She stepped back and gestured to him.

Gil beckoned to Lizzie’s brother, who led the way confidently down the worn stone steps to the crypt. No one pushed ahead of Gil’s slow, limping pace. And they made sure Chapman and Shep stayed with them, guarded by Jem and Horry.

In the crypt the lad went to one corner, behind a raised 
grave. ‘You have to push it here.’ Something clicked and a stone slid away, to reveal a low doorway.

‘About time,’ a voice said from inside. ‘You said I’d not be here for long, Mr Chapman. I want my money now and you can look after her. She’s a cheeky little devil, this one.’

‘Shut up, you fool!’

A man stuck his head out of the opening, gasped and yelled in shock as Horry yanked him out through it by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall.

Renie didn’t wait to see what happened to him, but bent down and eased herself into what proved to be quite a big space. ‘Beth love, we’ve come to rescue you.’

There was the sound of a child sobbing, and Gil pushed forward, ignoring his arm as it knocked against the entrance stone, managing somehow to get inside as well.

Renie was already cradling a sobbing Beth, making hushing noises and rocking her. ‘You’re safe now, my darling, safe from those men.’

Beth sniffed and tried to cuddle her uncle and Renie at the same time.

A woman next to Beth’s captor slapped his face good and hard. ‘I’ll never speak to you again, you brute. A little lass like that. She must have been terrified.’

‘Shh,’ Gil called. ‘Don’t frighten her.’

‘She don’t frighten easy, that one,’ her captor said. ‘Who do you think bit my hand?’

‘Good for her!’ someone called. ‘I’d like to set my dog on you. Frightening a child as has already gone through so much.’

Gil and Renie eased themselves and Beth out of the hidden chamber and she stared round, wide-eyed. 

‘See how many people came to rescue you,’ Renie whispered.

But Beth was staring at Chapman. ‘He said he’d hurt me if you didn’t give him money. I heard him. He’s a bad man.’

‘Don’t come much worse than him,’ Horry agreed.

The anger among the crowd was almost tangible, it was so strong. If the village constable hadn’t turned up just then, more violence might have erupted against the three kidnappers.

A dozen people tried to explain to him at once what had happened.

‘Let’s get Beth home,’ Gil said. ‘Can you walk, darling?’

‘Yes. But I want to hold your hand and Renie’s. Oh, and there’s Lizzie.’

They took the child away, leaving Horry and the villagers to make sure Chapman and his cronies were safely locked away.

Gil was limping badly now. Renie’s wrists were throbbing and swollen, but both were smiling as they chatted to the child and tried to ease her fears.

‘I knew you’d rescue me,’ Beth said to her uncle.

‘Did you?’

‘Yes. Because I know how much you love me.’

His voice was thick with tears. ‘I do.’

‘I love you as well,’ Renie said.

Beth looked at her. ‘You’re nice. I like you being here.’

‘And that man will be locked away so that he can never hurt you again.’

The little girl smiled tiredly. ‘That’s good. So when you marry my uncle, Miss Fuller, we can all live happily ever after, like in the story books. Can I be your bridesmaid?’ 

‘Of course. With a pretty new frock.’

As they reached the house, Lizzie moved forward. ‘It must have been very dirty in that hidey-hole. Your clothes are all tuzzled up. Every one of you needs a wash and change of clothes. I just hope we have enough hot water. Let me run and tell them in the kitchen, then I’ll bathe this young lady for you.’

She was back within a couple of minutes. ‘Come on, missie.’ She held out her arms and Beth went running into them.

Gil stopped for a moment to watch Beth walk up the stairs with her nursemaid. ‘I hope this doesn’t give that child nightmares.’

‘If it does, she’ll have plenty of people to cuddle her and make her feel better. Let’s go and have a wash.’ Renie reached out to brush a cobweb off his jacket.

‘Come and chat to me afterwards. You and I have some wedding arrangements to make.’ He stepped closer and kissed her cheek, then turned towards his own bedroom.

Renie lingered to watch him go then went into her bedroom. Now all she had to worry about was Judson and where her sisters were.

Surely he wouldn’t dare attack her again?

Surely she would find them again one day? 

Mrs Tolson saw him coming from the landing window and went running to tell Dennis Carling. They stood by the window of his office, staring down at the street.

‘It’s him, isn’t it? Judson,’ she said anxiously. ‘Where do you suppose he’s been all this time?’

‘Who knows? I’d hardly have recognised him, he’s changed so much. He was always so well turned out.’

‘He looks haggard and ill. Good heavens, he’s coming across to the hotel!’

‘I don’t like the expression on his face. He looks absolutely furious. Better get some strong men. He’s dangerous and violent.’

‘Nonsense. He and I have always got on well. I’ll speak to him, offer him some money if he needs help. He’ll go quietly after that. You’ll see.’

She watched Dennis go, fear clutching her heart. She didn’t think Judson would listen to reason. In fact, she was so sure of it, she went running to the porters’ office, taking care not to be seen from the foyer.

‘Judson’s come back,’ she told the two men on duty, ‘and I’m afraid he’s going to attack Mr Carling. Do you think you could find something to do in the foyer and stay nearby?’

They looked at her in shock. ‘Are you sure, Mrs T?’

‘Very sure. Please. Go now.’

One of the porters took hold of a trolley and put a suitcase on it. The other one picked up a broom and began to sweep the floor near the door.

Other eyes were on Judson, but he’d spotted Eunice and was looking only at her. Oh, heavens! She’d let herself be visible through the open door of the porters’ room.

He began striding across the foyer towards her, pushing people out of his way.

When Dennis Carlson approached him, Judson
flat-handed
him away violently, sending Dennis tumbling across the floor.

Eunice turned and ran, hearing the heavy footsteps thumping along behind her.

By that time customers were calling out and huddling together behind luggage or furniture. One woman began screaming but no one paid her any attention. The staff had all abandoned their duties and were also seeking shelter, except for the two porters and the commissionaire, but even they hesitated to approach such a wild-looking man.

Eunice fled up the stairs, but she wasn’t young and nimble, and couldn’t gain any advantage over him. He was behind her, cursing her, threatening her.

Just as she passed the lift, it stopped and the pageboy yanked her into it. He slammed the outer metal grill that served as a door to prevent customers walking into the lift well.

Closing the inner grill he locked it and set the lift in motion. It began to sink slowly down, then stopped part way.

Judson reached them, separated only by the metal grills. He reached out and shook the outer one, roaring curses and threats at her.

For a moment she thought he’d get to her, then slowly the lift began to move again. The last sight she had was of his legs and shoes.

‘When we get to the ground floor, run for help,’ the lad said.

But before they got there, they heard the screeching of metal above them.

‘What’s he doing?’ the lad gasped.

‘It sounds as if he’s forced the outer grill open. Surely he can’t do that?’

‘I mustn’t have shut it properly. But the lift ought not to have set off if both doors weren’t closed. What’s he doing up there?’

They could hear muffled shouting and roaring, but they couldn’t see anything.

‘I’m going right down to the basement, Mrs T. I know a room we can lock ourselves into, so even if he follows us down, he won’t catch us. We can stay there till someone rescues us.’

They passed the foyer, watching people looking upwards, hearing people shouting, ‘No!’ or ‘He can’t!’ or simply crying out in panic.

Two voices sounded louder than the rest, two men yelling at one another.

Then the sounds became muffled as the top of the lift
passed the foyer and moved down again to the basement.

‘It isn’t far, Mrs T. Be ready to run.’

She nodded, but glanced up as someone began to yell again. It sounded like Judson.

Dennis Carling chased up the stairs behind Judson, too late to help Mrs Tolson, but not too late to see Judson heaving at the lift door, shaking the metal grill and shouting loudly.

The man must have run mad. He was trying to open the grill without a lift there. Well, it wouldn’t work. There was a fail-safe to stop that.

Dennis came to a halt, not sure what to do next. To his horror, Judson did manage to haul the door part-way open. He stuck his head into the lift well, shouting down it, his voice booming and echoing, so that it was hard to make out what he was saying. It sounded like threats and curses.

The porters joined Dennis.

‘He’s mad as a hatter,’ one of them said. ‘Shall we catch him and lock him up? If you help us, sir, we should be strong enough.’

‘We’ll have to try, or he may attack the customers.’

The three of them crept towards Judson, but he must have heard them, because he swung round to face them.

‘Stay back. I want to see where they go to. I’m going to strangle that bitch if she doesn’t tell me where she’s hiding Renie.’

As he turned to peer down the lift well again, the porters nodded to one another and all three men rushed towards him.

They grabbed him and tried to drag him back, but he fought them every inch of the way, landing a lucky blow on one porter’s face that sent him spinning backwards.

‘Come away, man!’ Dennis panted, trying to keep hold of the heaving, bucking body. ‘You’ll fall.’

‘If I fall, you’ll go with me.’ Judson clamped his hand on Dennis’s jacket and tugged.

With a yell, Dennis let go of him and grabbed for the metal grill. The porter beside him stopped trying to tackle Judson at exactly the same moment.

The other porter had stood up by now and grabbed them both, hauling them backwards.

With a yell, Judson tried to regain his balance, reaching out to grab Dennis, but he missed. It seemed to happen very slowly. Arms flailing, he teetered on the edge of the lift well, then suddenly vanished from view.

There was a thump from down the lift well, then silence.

Dennis crawled to the gap and peeped cautiously down.

Judson was lying on top of the stationary lift cage on his back, eyes open, staring up in frozen surprise.

Dennis had seen that look before after a street accident. He edged back. ‘He’s dead.’

Silence, then, ‘Let me help you to your feet, sir. Nasty shock, you’ve had.’

Dennis shuddered. ‘If you hadn’t been there to help, he’d have taken me with him.’

‘I don’t think he meant to kill himself,’ the other porter said. ‘Did you see the look of surprise as he fell. I’ll not forget that as long as I live, not if I live to be a hundred, I won’t.’ He gulped and suddenly leant over a nearby ornamental plant and vomited.

‘We need to call the police,’ Dennis said, trying to pull himself together. If only he could stop shaking, he might manage to take charge again.

A man touched his shoulder, making him jump. ‘Come and sit down. I’m a doctor. There’s nothing you can do for that poor soul. Someone should call the police and fetch these men some hot, sweet tea.’

‘What about Mrs Tolson and the pageboy?’ one of the porters said suddenly. ‘Do you think they’re still in the lift?’

‘I’ll go down and check. They might not know they’re safe.’ His companion vanished through the emergency door.

Dennis gave up trying to take control. He had only enough energy to stagger along to his office and sink down in his chair, shuddering and struggling not to be sick.

A voice was calling, ‘Mrs Tolson! Mrs Tolson, where are you? Are you all right?’

‘That’s Monsieur Leduc,’ she said, pressing her ear to the door. ‘I’m fine,’ she called.

‘You sure, Mrs T?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. We’re here,’ she yelled back.

‘Thank goodness. It’s safe to come out now, madame.’

She unlocked the door and found the maître d’hôtel standing there, flanked by the commissionaire and Miss Pilkins.

‘Have you got him safely locked up?’ she asked, looking down the corridor behind them.

There was a moment’s silence, then he spread his hands wide. ‘I’m afraid he was killed, madame. He fell down the lift well.’

Eunice stared at him in silence, then closed her eyes in sheer relief. ‘I can’t be sorry.’

It wasn’t until she was in bed, being fussed over by her senior staff, that she let herself think of Irene. She must set
that tangle in order now that the girl was safe. No need to involve anyone else. It would only take a letter from her.

When Irene had escaped, Eunice had typed out a letter supposedly from the girl and sent it to the father’s address, scrawling a signature at the bottom as near to Irene’s as she could manage.

Now she had to write another letter and send that to clear up the deception. She was sorry to have come between the poor young woman and her family, but still felt it had been the safest thing to do.

As Judson’s actions had proved. If he’d caught Irene, he’d surely have killed her.

He’d have killed Eunice, too. No, best not to think of that.

The following morning, Eunice went to find out Mr Rycroft’s home address from the customer cards, then started to draft a letter.

It took her a long time to explain everything. Surely Irene would still be with Mr Rycroft? This time, Eunice wanted to contact Irene first and let the girl find her sisters for herself when the time was ripe.

She thought about it for a few days, then managed to put together a letter that more or less satisfied her. She hoped they’d forgive her for the deception.

When she posted it, she said a little prayer that it would find Irene and set things right for her.

Horry intercepted the postman and took the mail in to Gil, slipping a letter of his own into his pocket before he did so.

‘Here you are. And there’s a letter for Miss Fuller.’

‘I’ll give it to her.’ Gil looked at the letter, saw the Rathleigh crest on the envelope and went straight up to the schoolroom. If this was bad news about Judson, better they find out about it straight away.

Renie was discussing Christmas and wedding preparations with Beth, her governess and Lizzie. Everyone in the house and village seemed to be getting together to make it a double celebration, and one to be remembered.

Chapman was safely locked away and a meek little woman who proved to be his wife had turned up to claim the tumbledown house for herself and his child.

To everyone’s surprise, it was she who was distantly related to Miss Bennerden, but she denied any desire to lay claim to Oakdene. All she wanted was a home for herself and her child.

That left only Judson to worry about. Gil was considering hiring a private detective to find out what had happened to him.

He waited for a lull in the exciting discussion as to whether they should have the new square yoke collar to the bride’s bodice, and how long her veil should be. ‘There’s a letter for you, Renie. I think you should open it straight away.’

She took one look at his serious face and got up, disentangling herself from Beth, who loved to cuddle up to people, as if that way she could make sure of keeping them nearby.

He handed the letter to her. ‘Do you want to open it alone?’

She shivered. ‘No. Let’s go down to the sitting room.’

When she’d sat down next to him on the sofa, she stared at the envelope for so long without attempting to open it that he was hard put to keep quiet. But somehow he held
back his questions and waited for her to slip her finger into the gap in the envelope and tear it open.

He watched her read it and then saw tears well in her eyes. She let the letter drop and turned to fling herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Whatever it was that had upset her, he’d sort it out, he vowed as he cuddled her and hushed her.

Eventually she stopped sobbing and surprised him by giving him a beaming smile.

He looked at her in puzzlement.

‘Sorry. I didn’t even tell you … Oh, Gil, this is from Mrs Tolson. She knows where my sisters are.’

‘I thought it must be about Judson.’

‘No, he’s dead. Is it wrong to be glad about that, do you think?’

‘Not when it’s a man so evil. Tell me about your sisters. That’s much more important.’

‘Read it for yourself.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Good heavens!’ He gave Renie a hug and wiped away a tear with his fingertip.

‘Can we go to this Three Elms Farm today? I can’t bear another minute to wait to see my sisters again.’