Page 162 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

“Harry Trotman,” George dryly replied. “Donwell’s footman.”

Emma sighed. “Right under our noses the entire time.”

“Good heavens,” exclaimed Mrs. Weston. “That must mean Harry wasn’t simply doing this on the side, in addition to his duties.”

George nodded. “He was an integral part of the gang founded by his father, Stanley Trotman. Their base of operations was a tavern that Trotman owned on the outskirts of London.”

“The same gang that used the Crown Inn as a depot when Mr. Stokes was alive,” noted Emma.

“Yes. The Crown was a convenient waystop, but Trotman was forced to adjust the route when Mrs. Stokes turned them away. While they continued to use our church on occasion, for the most part they reduced their activity in and around Highbury.”

Emma frowned. “I don’t entirely understand what Harry was doing in the mix. Guy mentioned that Harry’s father wished him to oversee the route in Surrey, but why a footman at Donwell?”

“According to Mrs. Trotman, it was her husband’s idea.”

“Wait, there’s aMrs.Trotman?” exclaimed Mrs. Weston. “How did you find out about her?”

John set down his brandy and took up the narrative. “That was down to Phelps, our runner. As you know, he’s been working the case from the London end of things. His investigations led him to a tavern in Hampstead, which he then put under observation. Once the smugglers coming from Donwell were apprehended and Mr. Clarke sent word they were part of the Trotman Gang, Stevens put together a force of runners to raid the tavern and arrested Trotman and his accomplices.”

Miss Bates pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Gracious! This all sounds like something out of a novel.”

“An exceedingly bad novel,” Father huffed. “The Trotmans appear to be the most unsavory sort of persons.”

“Criminals generally are,” John sardonically noted.

Emma waved an impatient hand. “May we get back to Mrs. Trotman? What was her role in all of this?”

“She was a very useful witness, as it turned out,” said George. “Once her husband was under lock and key, she was quite happy to speak with Phelps.”

“Why would she give testimony against her own husband and son?” Emma asked.

George hesitated. “Let me just say that the Stanley Trotman was neither an affectionate husband nor loving father. Mrs. Trotman had wished to escape from under his thumb for some time— as did Harry, apparently.”

“And yet Harry was doing his father’s bidding,” she responded.

“Somewhat reluctantly, as it turns out. It was Stanley Trotman’s idea to place Harry at Donwell as a footman. From there, Harry would oversee the smuggling ring in this part of Surrey and look for potential places to store their contraband. As customs enforcement became more effective, the gang was forced to alter their route on a fairly regular basis.”

“If that’s the case,” Emma said, “it was a stroke of good luck for them to get Harry placed at Donwell.”

“Unfortunately,” George dryly replied. “About three years ago, I placed an ad for additional staff in one of the London gazettes. Stanley Trotman happened to see the ad and ordered his son to apply for a job as footman.”

Emma shook her head. “But how did Harrygetthe job? He’d obviously never been a footman.”

“Trotman fabricated the references, quite adroitly I might add, since they fooled both me and Larkins. Harry also seemed a pleasant, biddable fellow, and he certainly had the physical qualifications for the position.”

“Must have been a doddle for him,” observed Mr. Weston. “With most of the abbey shut up, the fellow didn’t have the heaviest of duties.”

“He did not,” George replied. “Which also gave him time to attend to his more nefarious activities.”

Mrs. Weston blew out a disgusted breath. “He always seemed such a pleasant fellow, if not very bright.”

Emma raised her eyebrows at her husband. “I suspect his dim behavior was all an act.”

George nodded. “He was obviously much smarter than we thought, given his ability to pull off his deception for as long as he did.”

Emma couldn’t help feeling disgust for her lamentable lack of acumen. “How embarrassing that none of us ever noticed.”

“Quite mortifying. You can be sure I’ll be paying much greater attention to such matters in the future.”