The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (i am malala young readers edition .txt) 📕

moving at last in her favour, even if I could not assure her of imminent release; and secundus, I might satisfy myself that she was not being maltreated. I was unaware how matters stood just now in the city. And as I rode, suspicions arose again about who might have arranged for that paper to be nailed to the doors of the minster. All trails now seemed to lead back to the one who had begun this whole affair: Giles Cobbett, a man I now burned to see arrested.

It was approaching mid-day when I entered the city, walking Leucippus slowly through the bustling throng. By now, I had striven to put behind me the distressing hour Hester and I had spent with Jane and Alison, in which I told them the circumstances of their sister’s death. We had expected them to be distraught, and so they were, but in the last moments I spent with them, some degree of calm seemed to have settled. I left them in tears, hugging one another, while Hester remained to offer what comfort she could.

Hence, it would be untruthful of me to say that I approached the task ahead with dispassion. I feared my anger would triumph once I faced Standish again. But I hoped to have Boyd as my hand of restraint: I had sent Elkins early with a letter, giving the good doctor a fuller account of events. In this frame of mind, having found a horse-holder, I walked to his house and made my presence known. Boyd’s servant admitted me, then coughed to gain my attention.

‘If I might make bold, Master Justice,’ he said quietly, ‘I should tell you that the doctor is out of sorts. There has been an incident.’

I paused. ‘What manner of incident?’

‘I think it best he tells you himself.’

I entered Boyd’s parlour, hat in hand, and he rose to greet me… whereupon I stopped in mid-stride. There was a large purple bruise on his temple.

‘What in God’s name has happened to you?’ I asked.

‘Well might you wonder,’ he replied, in dour tones. ‘You could say that the wound is a result of your request, to visit your incarcerated friend at the Guildhall.’

In consternation, I returned his gaze. ‘What, was there an affray?’

‘After a fashion. I told you that feelings are running high. People gather outside, and anyone who visits the witch – or Mother Blackcat, as they’ve dubbed her – is suspect. In short, a handful of ruffians jostled and insulted me, to the point where I was obliged to draw sword. Several missiles were thrown – the evidence of which you see.’

He sat down, gesturing me to do the same.

‘You poor fellow,’ I murmured. ‘I can but ask your pardon-’

‘You need not trouble yourself,’ Boyd broke in. ‘For what I have to tell you is somewhat unpleasant.’ He waited until I was seated, then: ‘It seems Mason has not refused food – not entirely. She takes a little.’ He paused, then added with a frown: ‘Though there’s a jailer who appears to enjoy watching her suffer. I do not know his name-’

‘Burton,’ I snapped. ‘By heaven, I’ll make him pay.’

The doctor sighed, then fumbled on his side-table and held up what I saw was my recent letter.

‘What a wicked and tawdry business you have uncovered,’ he said. And when I barely nodded: ‘I have given it some thought, yet I’m uncertain what is the best course of action. Do you still mean to go to Standish?’

‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘He’s both Magistrate and acting Coroner. And he knows I will not let the matter rest, but call on other authorities if I must. Whatever his relations with Cobbett, he will be damaged by association. He has to act, or appear to be at fault himself.’

‘And you believe you have enough evidence to accuse Cobbett of murder?’

‘I do.’

He was silent for a while, whereupon I asked him if he had seen Agnes in person. He shook his head.

‘I was not permitted. However, I spoke with one or two people I know, and the sergeant-at-arms. When I told him that I came at your behest, he was willing to talk.’ A frown forming, he added: ‘The man seemed ill-at-ease. I believe he might even suspect that Mason is innocent of the charges.’

I thought on that, before broaching the matter that now troubled me. ‘In view of what’s happened, I cannot ask you to come with me to Standish,’ I said. ‘I’ve involved you more than I had right to.’

‘Well now, as I recall,’ my friend said, ‘I asked you to keep me informed of the case, as I was more than willing to accompany you to Ebbfield that day. And now…’ a wry look appeared. ‘I heartily dislike being told to keep my nose out. This is a matter of principle and of justice - moreover, I too have a reputation in this city.’ He paused for a moment, then: ‘Hence, I will be your witness when you confront Standish. And I will request that a new inquest be held into Susanna Cobbett’s death. But I pray you, don’t ask me to visit Mistress Mason again.’

I gave a sigh; I was both relieved and resolved. ‘No… that’s something I must do myself. And if I return here in an hour, would you be ready to accompany me to the Justice’s house?’

He indicated assent, then lowered his gaze. ‘That Woolland – what a vile excuse for a parson,’ he muttered. ‘I should have been less courteous with him, that day in Kempsey.’

He looked up, and fixed me with a gaze which was enough to spur me on: onwards to what I hoped was the last phase of this whole, tragic affair. Determined, but with some trepidation, I left his house and made my way directly to the Guildhall.

But once inside, I was