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

the two of us stood in the doorway of the Justice’s house, hearing his servant protest that his master was too busy to see anyone.

‘He will see me,’ I said firmly. ‘I have vital evidence to put before him, of a capital crime.’

‘Master Belstrang, I pray you…’ the man wore a pained look. ‘In truth, since your last visit the Justice has given me instructions not to admit you. He is weighed down with business-’

‘As am I,’ I broke in. ‘But this will not wait. Now stand aside, or I’ll-’

‘You will what?’ Came a voice from the rear, causing the servant to turn about. Standish himself was shuffling along the hallway towards us, wearing his familiar scowl.

‘Am I ever to be free of you, Belstrang?’ He sighed. ‘Pray state the purpose of your visit, and let me-’

‘It’s murder,’ I said at once, causing him to stop in his tracks. Holding up the report I had prepared, I made bold to step forward. ‘Do you wish me to read it aloud, here and now?’

A moment passed, in which the Justice appeared to notice Boyd for the first time. A wary look appeared, but it was clear that he had little choice but to hear us. With another sigh, he dismissed his servant and bade us follow him indoors.

No sooner were we in his closet, however, and he had retreated behind his cluttered table, than he became brusque. ‘What do you mean by presenting yourself in this precipitate manner, sir?’ He snorted. ‘If you have evidence of such a serious nature, why have you not sent…’

He stopped, a look of doubt on his features. Following his gaze, I experienced some relief at sight of my last letter to him, lying atop a pile of papers. With a flourish, I threw my new report down in front of him.

‘It’s all here,’ I told him. ‘I suggest you read it most carefully, along with the missive I sent. Have you troubled yourself to read that yet?’ Whereupon, taking his silence for a negative, I managed a thin smile. ‘Please do so,’ I added. ‘Meanwhile, the doctor and I will wait outside.’

It took him more than a quarter of an hour, during which time Boyd and I made ourselves comfortable in the main room of the house. During this time the Justice’s wife appeared, she who had accosted Hester in the street more than a week ago, I recalled. But when Boyd and I stood up to greet her, she disappeared with barely a nod.

‘It seems courtesy isn’t a priority in this house,’ my friend observed drily. ‘Or perhaps it’s merely because you are persona non grata here.’

I was about to make reply, but the sound of a door opening stayed me. Justice Standish stood at the entrance to his chamber, wearing a look which I might describe as one of angry dismay. At once, we rose to face him.

‘You had better come in here,’ he said.

TWENTY-ONE

Standish was shaken, yet he was still defiant. He now knew all that I had uncovered, though it seemed he had not yet been told of Humphreys being taken to the prison.

‘I had no knowledge of that man’s activities,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘Nor of Cobbett’s?’ I asked, somewhat sharply.

‘I would swear to it.’ He glanced at Boyd, who was eying him without expression. ‘I suppose your concern, doctor, is that of the inquest once more?’ He enquired. ‘I fear you’re somewhat late in that regard…’

‘If you mean an inquest into the death of the man Berritt, sir, you’re mistaken,’ Boyd said at once. ‘I’m here to press for a new inquest into the death of Susanna Cobbett.’

Standish frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it again, whereupon I added my opinion that a new inquest into the death of Howell Rhys should also be held. But to that he shook his head again, more firmly.

‘It isn’t possible. You were there when the verdict was given – it cannot be changed.’

‘Not even in the light of new evidence? I enquired.

‘What new evidence?’ On a sudden, the man went on the attack. ‘I’ll allow you have brought grave charges against Giles Cobbett, though nothing substantial in regard to Rhys’s death. And in my opinion, you have acted beyond the law in conducting these enquiries. Once again, I must remind you that you’re no longer Justice Belstrang. Moreover, in taking Cobbett’s daughters under your roof as you have, you might incur a charge of abduction – had you not considered that?’

‘You’ve read my account of what the man did,’ I retorted. ‘Would you truly wish to return those maids to his house?’

‘I…’ to my surprise, Standish faltered. ‘What powers do I have to tell him how to treat his daughters?’ he muttered. ‘Moreover, they cannot testify against him – nor are they witnesses to the death of their sister. Your only witness, in fact, appears to be Humphreys. Hardly the most reliable sort, would you not agree?’

I caught Boyd’s eye, struggling to contain myself. Was the man about to refuse to act? It was intolerable.

‘Perhaps - but then, all other potential witnesses are either dead or have flown the coop,’ I replied. ‘Ned Berritt, Cobbett’s man Mount, who lied at the inquest-’

‘That’s enough, Belstrang,’ the Justice snapped. ‘You go too far, as always.’

‘By heaven, you’re taking Cobbett’s side,’ I exclaimed, my restraint crumbling. ‘Indeed, you’ve aided him all along, have you not? Shaped both inquests to produce verdicts of suicide, done nothing to allay rumours of witchcraft… you’re determined to see Agnes Mason convicted, and have been from the start! Now I wish I’d-’

‘Robert.’ In agitation, Boyd turned on me. ‘I urge you…’

‘No, save your breath!’

Standish was on his feet, eyes blazing, as we had faced each other in this room before. Raising a hand, he pointed