The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗
- Author: John Pilkington
Book online «The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗». Author John Pilkington
‘Well… no matter.’ With a wry look, I tried to summon some shreds of authority. ‘Now that we meet, I would have words with you. I’ve talked with Edward Mason, and…’ I broke off, unwilling to speak of Agnes, but Berritt was ahead of me.
‘About his mother?’ He regarded me through narrowed eyes. ‘That’s why you come digging, is it? I heard you’d too much time on your hands, since you lost your place as magistrate. Do you mean to have a part in hanging the witch now?’
‘By heaven, I have no such intent,’ I retorted, with some heat. ‘I’m trying to help her, and moreover-’
‘Why, has she come into money?’
‘What? You insolent rogue…’ I drew myself up, hand on my sword. The man’s nerve was more than I could bear - but once again, I was wrong-footed.
‘Easy, sir - ‘twas a jest.’ There was mirth in Berritt’s eyes, though he was still alert. It struck me that, in the absence of witnesses, had I drawn sword I would likely have come off worst: the man wore a skinning knife at his belt that looked sharp as ice. With an effort, I reined in my temper.
‘See now… we appear to have made a poor start,’ I allowed. ‘Be assured that I mean no harm. I seek intelligence, nothing more… and as for the woman you call a witch, I believe she’s wrongly accused. Perhaps you’re unaware of the particulars, but were I to tell you…’
I stopped myself. Berritt’s expression had changed, along with his manner. He let out a sigh, and looked aside.
‘There’s naught you need tell me,’ he said quietly. ‘I know what’s been done, and it chills me as it would any man.’ He faced me again. ‘You seek intelligence, you say? Well, mayhap I could aid you - but I’ll not set foot in any court of law.’
‘I understand,’ I said, after a moment. ‘And as I once fined you - though I’ll admit I do not recall the sum – I would pay you something now. Would a shilling serve? A day’s wage, for many.’
I waited, half expecting him to demand more, but it seemed his mind moved elsewhere. ‘Agnes Mason is a good woman,’ he said. ‘There’s some hereabouts have reason to be grateful to her… she’d do no harm, not even to a cockroach.’
He had relaxed somewhat, and my spirits lifted. If he had knowledge I could use, even a scrap of evidence…
‘I share your opinion,’ I said. ‘Though, along with her family, you and I seem to be the only ones. Can you tell me anything – something you’ve seen or heard?’
‘I might…’ Berritt glanced about warily, as if there were anyone near, when it was obvious there was not. I had thought him a fearless man; could I have been mistaken?
‘Whatever you tell me, none shall know from whose lips it came – I swear it,’ I told him. ‘But if you can help Agnes in her plight…’
‘You’ve seen her, then?’ the other broke in.
‘In her prison cell. She’s calm, but afraid… everything stands against her.’
‘I’d wager crowns on that, right enough,’ Berritt snorted. He seemed to be debating with himself.
‘The night Giles Cobbett’s daughter is said to have come here,’ I ventured. ‘Would you know anything of that?’
He hesitated, and I found my gaze drifting to his bow, which was still strung. That was how he took rabbits, as no doubt he could take any other creature he chose. I must have betrayed my thoughts, for the man bent the weapon’s tip to the ground and unstrung it. Without a word, he then stepped to the tree with the arrow and, after some tugging, removed it.
‘I would,’ he said, turning to face me. ‘And don’t ask me why I was out that night. Yet hear this: I never poached on Mason’s acres. They’re poor folk.’
‘However, we’re on the edge of Humphreys’ land, are we not?’ I countered. ‘Have you any scruples on his acres?’
Berritt merely busied himself tucking the arrow away in its quiver. Whereupon I reached for my purse, opened it and drew out a silver shilling. ‘Take it,’ I said. ‘Whatever you tell me, it’s yours.’
I proffered the coin, which was accepted in silence. Stowing it in a pocket, my informant spat on the ground, then spoke.
‘If that maid came here, I didn’t see her. I was some way off… but if she did, she wasn’t alone.’
‘Do you mean you saw someone?’
‘Not close… only shadows. But there were men – two or three. They carried no lights, the way they were crashing about. Then, there was moonlight enough to see by.’
‘But this is important,’ I blurted. ‘You must-’
I caught my breath, for Berritt’s blank look was back. He would not testify, he had said, and though he could be compelled to it, I had agreed to keep his anonymity.
‘Have you any inkling who they might be?’ I asked instead. But for answer, he merely shook his head.
‘Then, did you hear their speech?’ I persisted. ‘Any noises… a splashing, for instance?’
‘I’ve said I was some way off,’ Berritt answered. ‘If there was, likely I wouldn’t hear it, for the trees muffle such sounds.’ He paused, then: ‘I disappoint you, but that’s all I can say. Save for one thing, if you’ll hear my opinion.’
He eyed me, then spoke words which would change my perception of the entire matter.
‘If you seek to know how that maid came to drown herself, Master Justice, I’d not be poking around here, for the water keeps its secrets. I’d be searching for her swain – her beau, if you will. His
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