Page 32

Chapter 31

Rory stared down at the glassy-eyed corpse of Tommy Jones and felt no remorse. The world was better off without him.

However, he hated what Emily and Maud had been forced to endure. They were currently huddled together on the wooden settle with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. Maud’s features were pasty and her breathing was shallow; Emily looked a little healthier, although she kept rubbing her hip and wincing.

Mr McGovern was hunkered on one knee next to the body, pulling back more of the sheet to reveal the gruesome injury. The blood had thickened to a dark, sticky mass and a small pool of yellow liquid had accumulated on the floor beneath Tommy’s thighs. The stenches of gore and urine mingled in the air.

As Mr McGovern appraised the body, his forehead creased. Reaching out, he slid his hand warily into the pocket of Tommy’s trousers and withdrew…a cut-throat razor.

‘Jesus,’ Rory muttered.

A muscle ticked in Mr McGovern’s jaw as he glanced from the razor over to the two women. Then he fished out a handkerchief from inside his coat, wrapped it around the razor and slipped it into his own pocket without a word.

After he tossed the sheet back over the corpse, he stood and led Rory across the room to Emily and Maud. Maud kept her head lowered, but Emily looked up at them both. Although she had washed her face up at the Hall, she had evidently hurried the task because a smudge of ash still remained near her left ear.

‘What do you think should be done?’ she asked tremulously.

Mr McGovern gave his daughter a sympathetic look, but his mouth was tight and Rory could tell that he was just as livid as he was about what she had gone through that evening.

‘We have a couple of options,’ he said. ‘However, time is not on our side. The body isn’t rigid yet but there is some stiffness. We will need to decide upon our path forward before it fully sets in.’

Maud gagged and pressed her fist to her lips.

‘I’m sorry, Maud,’ he said with utter gentleness. ‘I understand how difficult this is for you. Nevertheless, though the manner of it was horrific, I honestly believe that what happened tonight was for the best.’

She goggled up at him, aghast. His expression remained composed.

‘Had events not transpired the way they did, and had it been possible to put him to flight on this occasion, he would only have come back for you again in the future.’ Mr McGovern’s voice was calm. ‘You would have spent the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. And the next time he showed up, you might not have survived.’

She dropped her gaze again, but not before Rory caught the flicker of comprehension in her eyes.

Mr McGovern turned back to Emily. ‘You were right to be cautious about notifying the authorities. The circumstances here are too ambiguous for the law to protect Maud. England’s justice system is not designed to favour a woman from the working class whose husband has been found dead in an apparent case of murder. Not to mention, you would also likely be implicated as an accomplice.’

Emily gulped.

‘My gut tells me that we cannot involve the authorities without risking a sentence of hanging or transportation, and I absolutely refuse to stand by and let that happen to two innocent women, especially when one of them is my daughter. Which means we need to handle this ourselves.’ He grimaced. ‘Rory and I will have to dispose of the body covertly and cover up our tracks.’

Maud’s frame quivered with palpable horror, while Emily’s countenance turned green. Rory, however, was unsurprised and prepared to do whatever it took to shield his wife from harm. Hanging was for criminals and transportation was for miscreants like the Sandlers, not his beloved, sweet, precious Emily.

‘I know it’s distasteful,’ Mr McGovern said. ‘But it’s necessary to avoid the prospect of the courts meting out a most unjust punishment. We have no other choice.’

Emily bit her lip. ‘But what if you get caught in the process of…the disposal? That would lead to equally unjust consequences.’

Rory shook his head. ‘No, we carry more of the blame here. We started this back in Penny Close when we took Maud and the children away. Now we’re the ones who have to finish it.’

‘I don’t want either of you to be in danger!’ Emily’s pitch rose in panic as she gazed from her father to her husband.

‘We won’t be,’ Mr McGovern replied with such assurance that even Rory was inclined to believe him. ‘We’ll make his death look as natural as possible to evade suspicion.’

Rory gave him a quizzical glance. ‘I figured we’d just bury him in a deep grave where no one would find him.’

Mr McGovern chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘I’ve considered that option, but I don’t think it’s feasible. We haven’t got the time to find a remote enough location and dig that size of a hole. Furthermore, if anyone stumbled across the freshly turned soil, or wild animals dug it up, we’d have to contend with the fact that the body has suffered a very obvious injury. There would be an immediate assumption that a murder had taken place.’

‘And the blacksmith would be able to identify Tommy and connect him to Maud,’ Rory said with a sinking feeling. ‘What d’you suggest instead, then?’

Mr McGovern hesitated. At last, he said reluctantly, ‘The river.’

‘To make it look like a drowning?’ Emily asked in a small voice.

He nodded. ‘To the unaware, it will appear to be nothing more than an unfortunate accident. Whoever comes upon him will probably think that the fellow was drunk and lost his footing at the edge of the water.’

‘But won’t they question the wound?’ she said, frowning.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘My plan is a little more elaborate than merely letting him fall in.’ He broke eye contact with her, as if he were too ashamed to meet her gaze. ‘It entails keeping him underwater for long enough to start decomposing, so that when he is finally discovered he will not be recognisable to anyone, not even the blacksmith.’

A startled silence fell. Emily and Maud sat totally still on the settle. Rory shifted his feet and found himself toeing a messy mound of mince pie remnants on the floor. He took a step back from it.

‘So, uh, how will we manage to do that?’ he asked, puncturing the silence.

Though Mr McGovern’s compunction was plain in his remorseful blue eyes, he nonetheless spoke with resolve. ‘We need to keep him trapped below the surface for a period of time. And as our dubious luck would have it, the very solution lies just over the border on the Sinclair Estate.’

Rory’s brows knitted in puzzlement for several moments before it dawned on him. ‘The sawmill?’

‘Indeed.’ Mr McGovern eyed Emily and Maud, who were both still mute. He winced at Rory. ‘You and I can discuss the finer details once we’re on our way.’

Emily blinked. For a second, Rory wondered whether she would ask to be made privy to those details. But she only said cautiously, ‘It sounds like the river is the best choice.’

‘I’m afraid there are no good choices, a stór ,’ Mr McGovern replied. ‘Only bad or worse. But we will see it done.’

All of a sudden, Maud said, ‘What about the folk back in Liverpool?’ Her words were hoarse like she hadn’t spoken in days. ‘What will Tommy’s drinking mates think when he doesn’t return?’

‘I’ll take care of that,’ said Mr McGovern. ‘I can find a way to ensure that a rumour spreads through the pubs there that Tommy has decided to seek his fortune overseas. His friend Ned might guess there’s more to his disappearance than that, but he’ll be too scared to pry because he knows what I’m capable of.’

The tension in the room conveyed that they were all quite aware that he was not someone to be crossed.

Emily turned to Maud. ‘Will you wish to return to Penny Close, now that Tommy’s…gone?’

Maud stared at her knees for so long that Rory began to doubt if she had heard the question at all. But at last she said, ‘I can’t go back there—it’d raise suspicion if I showed up right after he left. Besides, I don’t think I want to. That house holds too many bad memories.’ She shot a grim glance at Tommy’s covered corpse and wrinkled her nose. ‘And that’s saying something.’

‘There’s a home for you on the Bewley Estate for as long as you wish to live here,’ Mr McGovern promised.

‘Thank you,’ she mumbled. Then she hiccupped and squinted at Rory. ‘But this means there’ll be no tenant at Number 5.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ he replied. ‘I’m sure Mr Martins can find me a new tenant. That’s a problem for another day.’

‘Yes,’ Mr McGovern agreed. ‘We have a more pressing matter to deal with first.’

They had to wait another couple of hours before they could tackle it, however. It wasn’t until close to midnight, when they could be quite sure that the village’s inhabitants were asleep, that they deemed it safe enough to remove Tommy’s body, swathed head to toe in a pair of blankets, from the cottage. This proved to be a challenging task because it had already grown stiffer, making it difficult to manoeuvre onto the back of Mr McGovern’s horse, Orion, who had been tethered patiently alongside Rory’s mount, Bran, at the rear of Maud’s cottage all evening.

Once they finally had it roped in place, they went back inside. Maud was still hunched on the settle, but Emily had risen and was contemplating the stains on the floor where the corpse had lain.

‘We’ll clean up while you’re gone,’ she said, her lips pinched with revulsion.

Mr McGovern nodded. ‘We should be back by dawn, I hope, unless there are unforeseen complications. Don’t answer the door to anyone but us.’

‘Two taps, one tap, two taps,’ she reminded him.

He gave her a faint smile before cocking his head at Rory. Rory touched his hand to Emily’s and then followed Mr McGovern out the door. As he pulled it closed behind them, he heard Maud’s quiet, resolute declaration.

‘I am never, ever , getting married again.’

Rory’s heart was in his mouth as they set off. A half moon hung above them, casting just enough light to guide them, yet not so much as to easily give them away. They could only go at a walking pace due to the load on Orion’s back, and they would have to avoid the roads, travelling across fields and through woods to reach the border between the Sinclair and Bewley estates. Mr McGovern had estimated that it would be at least an hour’s ride each way.

A dog barked in the distance as they left the village behind and approached the gate to the nearest field. Rory dismounted to open it and led Bran through after Orion. As he was about to close the gate, he glanced over his shoulder and jolted in fright when he caught a flutter of movement back down the road. Bran jerked at his reaction but he held tight to the reins and the horse didn’t bolt.

‘Sir,’ he croaked softly. ‘I think we’re being followed.’

Mr McGovern’s figure went rigid but he didn’t make any sudden motion. Casually, he turned his head to scrutinise their surroundings. After a minute, he straightened in his saddle.

‘I see him,’ he said, his tone surprisingly serene. ‘Let’s wait for him to catch up.’

To Rory’s amazement, Mr McGovern waved an arm in invitation. Rory swivelled and watched a shape emerge timidly from the gloom.

‘Christ, Alfie!’ he gasped. ‘You scared me half to death.’

He couldn’t distinguish his half-brother’s expression until the lad came up right beside him – it was a mixture of sheepish and fervent.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I spotted you from the back window of the Cobbs’ cottage. I think I can guess what that is.’ He pointed to the bundle secured behind Orion’s saddle. ‘Tommy came after Ma, didn’t he?’

Rory grimaced. ‘Yes.’

‘She’s not badly hurt?’

‘No, thank God.’ Emily had said that Maud’s shoulder and back would have some bruising, but she’d had a lucky escape otherwise.

‘And now you need to get rid of him,’ Alfie said matter-of-factly. ‘Can I come?’

Rory glanced at Mr McGovern.

‘It might be useful to have a lookout,’ his father-in-law said. ‘You can ride with Rory, Alfie. We must warn you, though: this won’t be pleasant.’

‘That’s fine,’ Alfie said, his features grim in the dim moonlight. ‘I’m just glad the bastard’s dead.’

Thus, with the momentary alarm of discovery dispelled, they set off again, Alfie settled somewhat awkwardly on Bran’s back in front of Rory. All three of them stayed on the alert, but everything seemed quiet in the surrounding landscape. Thankfully, Lady Bridget had expressly forbidden Gus to investigate the mysterious flickering light in the fields at night without the assistance of his father, so they didn’t need to worry about bumping into the young detective. As they rode, Rory told Alfie in low murmurs what had happened at his mother’s cottage that evening. Alfie simmered with anger, but his simultaneous relief was unmistakable.

‘He didn’t deserve to live,’ he said simply, and Rory had to agree.

They made it the rest of the way without incident. When they reached the new sawmill, they found the site deserted, but cart tracks and hoof prints were visible in the soil throughout the area.

‘That’s good,’ Mr McGovern muttered. ‘We won’t need to be too concerned about what marks we leave behind.’

He led them towards the sound of flowing water and presently the mill’s main building loomed out of the dimness, perched on the bank of the river. Next to it was the round, hulking shape of the millwheel, half submerged in the water. Rory had viewed it several times in daylight when he and Mr Comerford had come to inspect the site, but it seemed a lot more ominous now, shrouded in moonlight and shadow.

Alfie shivered in front of Rory. ‘Why isn’t it moving?’

‘It’s braced in place, see?’ he answered, pointing out the wooden beams wedged between the wheel’s paddles and bound with iron chains to the mill’s wall. ‘It doesn’t need to turn until the workers are ready to begin the tree felling, which can’t start until the trees become dormant for the winter.’

‘And that suits us perfectly,’ said Mr McGovern. ‘From what Mr Comerford and Mr Longridge said at our last meeting, they expect to have it operational by December. Two months ought to be sufficient for our purpose.’

‘What exactly are you planning to do?’ Alfie asked.

‘We’re going to ensure that our companion here gets caught in the spokes of the wheel below the water. By the time the bracing beams are removed in a couple of months, the river will have done its job and his face shouldn’t be recognisable. When the wheel starts to turn, it will carry his body above the surface but it will likely bruise and batter him in the process, obscuring his original injury among numerous others.’

Rory swallowed, taken aback by the deep level of thought Mr McGovern had put into this grisly enterprise.

His father-in-law sighed. ‘While the sawmill is a joint venture between both of our estates, the most suitable location for it happened to be on Lord Sinclair’s land. It’s hardly the neighbourly thing to do, orchestrating this here. But since it will appear to be an accident, the Sinclairs should face no troublesome repercussions—except, of course, the distress of having a man’s unexpected death occur on their property.’

With that glum observation, he swung down from his horse. Rory and Alfie followed suit, the latter cringing and discreetly rubbing his buttocks. Mr McGovern started untying the rope.

‘Alfie, please stand near the horses and keep watch,’ he said. ‘Alert us at once if you notice anything out of the ordinary.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Alfie said, squaring his slight frame.

As the rope fell away, Mr McGovern said to Rory, ‘I’ll take the shoulders if you take the feet?’

Rory nodded and moved into position, trying very hard to pretend that they were just preparing to carry a large sack of grain or potatoes. The illusion shattered as soon as his hands registered the unyielding mass beneath the coarse weave of the blankets. They struggled to lower it from Orion’s back; it was heavy and uncooperative, and he almost dropped his end before firming up his grip just in time. Without speaking, they trudged towards the river bank with their load. At the water’s edge, they set it down.

‘I’m going to take away the blankets now,’ said Mr McGovern, a subtle warning to Rory if he wished to avert his eyes. He did just that, keeping his gaze focused on Tommy’s sooty bootlaces as they came into view.

‘Do you know how deep the water is?’ he asked, like he was making light conversation.

‘It’s difficult to tell in the dark, but it shouldn’t be more than four or five feet.’

Rory heard a soft thump and peered up to see that Mr McGovern had removed his right boot and let it drop to the ground. As he took off the left one, he said, ‘There’s no need for you to get in the water too. Just help me guide it from the bank and I’ll do the rest.’

Rory didn’t argue. There was something quite intimidating about the darker side of this man. It was also extraordinary how much he was willing to take upon himself so that others wouldn’t have to.

After removing his hat and coat as well, Mr McGovern crouched by the water and then slowly lowered himself into the steady current. ‘Oh, hell, that’s cold,’ he blurted.

By the time he was standing with it up to his ribs, he had let loose a string of curses in both English and Irish with such rapidity that Rory couldn’t grasp most of them, although he thought he caught the phrase ‘twelve devils’ in there.

Gritting his teeth, Mr McGovern faced the river bank. ‘All right, let’s slide it in.’

Rory pushed the body to the water’s edge and Mr McGovern gripped it and pulled it towards him. It plunged into the river with a heavy splash. Despite its weight, it didn’t sink at once, so Mr McGovern waded through the current with his hand guiding it in the direction of the millwheel. When he reached the wheel’s curved rim, he looked back at Rory kneeling on the bank.

‘Won’t be long,’ he said with a resigned tilt of his mouth. He pressed down on the body with firm pressure to force it below the water’s surface, and then, taking a deep breath, he ducked under himself.

As Rory waited anxiously for him to re-emerge, he pictured him manoeuvring the body between the wheel’s paddles and tangling its limbs sufficiently on the spokes so that it wouldn’t come loose. However, when the seconds lengthened into a minute and more but still Mr McGovern didn’t reappear, panic began to climb Rory’s throat. Could he have become stuck himself somehow? Should Rory go in after him?

‘Sir?’ he rasped, doubtful whether Mr McGovern would be able to hear him. ‘Sir, do you need help? Cormac!’

Just as he had decided to jump in, the surface of the water broke and his father-in-law materialised, gasping for air.

‘Thank Christ,’ Rory uttered with unspeakable relief.

He reached down and heaved him, dripping, onto the bank before fetching the abandoned blankets to wrap around him. Cormac accepted them gratefully, neither he nor Rory mentioning the fact that they had served as a shroud mere minutes ago. He sat hunched with the blankets around his shoulders, catching his breath.

‘It’s done,’ he said at last, pushing his hand through his sopping hair. There was a haunted look about him, which Rory thought was fairly self-explanatory until he murmured, ‘That wasn’t the first time I’ve put a body in the water.’

Rory flinched. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t think any of us really know just how much you’ve sacrificed over the years. I respect everything you’ve done for this family.’

Cormac swatted the words away with a shower of droplets from his sleeve. ‘Enough of that. We still need to get rid of the razor—I believe it would be wisest to toss it into the river at least a half mile downstream.’

Rory didn’t budge. ‘I mean it, Cormac. Thank you.’

They shared a wry smile of acknowledgement. There were some things that inevitably left a man on first-name terms with another, and disposing of a body together in the dead of night was one of them.