The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

head quickly. ‘I saw none. I’d no desire to look close at him. Likely he was drunk and fell in, somewhere upriver-’

‘You lying rogue.’

Now I did draw my sword - somewhat clumsily I admit, but it served its purpose. Levelling it at Tait’s throat, I leaned forward. ‘You know he would never be so careless,’ I said. ‘And I think you know how he died, so speak!’

A moment passed, in which Tait looked down at my sword, still scowling. ‘You’ve no call for that,’ he said harshly.

‘I’m waiting,’ I told him. ‘But let me help you. Was there blood on his clothing? Or perhaps his neck was broken. I pray you, try and remember.’

And yet, nervous though he was, the man remained defiant. ‘I saw no blood,’ he snapped. ‘He’d been in the river for hours… if the water wasn’t low just now, he’d have been carried away. And how would I know if his neck was broke? I’m no surgeon.’

I paused, allowing my gaze to stray to the river’s bank where his boat was tied… and a notion sprang up.

‘Well, mayhap he did drown.’ Fixing my eyes on Tait’s, I watched him closely. ‘If he’d been knocked senseless first, perhaps, then his hands and feet bound tightly… someone would only need to throw him in, wouldn’t they?’

He gave no reply, but a look flickered across his features; it vanished at once, but I had seen enough. ‘In which case, all you had to do was untie him, get rid of the rope and report a drowning,’ I went on. ‘Hence, what I want to know, Master Tait, is who paid you? Could it be Giles Cobbett?’

‘See now… don’t ask me more, Master Belstrang.’ On a sudden, Tait lowered his gaze. ‘I’m just a waterman… I do my work and stay out of trouble.’

‘Well, it seems you’ve failed in that,’ I told him. ‘I could swear out a warrant accusing you of aiding a murder – or even conspiracy to murder. How would that be?’

‘You wouldn’t…’ he swallowed, as the words sank in. ‘See now, I’m a poor man. I can’t afford enemies…’

‘That’s true enough. But I may think again, if you tell me all you know.’ I drew a breath. ‘And I swear, I’m not leaving here until you do.’

‘Sweet Jesus.’ In agitation, Tait shifted on his feet. ‘What if I did tell you things? Not that I’m saying I could, only-’

‘I’ll try and keep your name out of it,’ I said. ‘Though I can’t promise, in such a grave matter as murder.’

‘Listen, I know nothing about any murder!’ He cried. ‘And in God’s name, will you lower your blade? I’m like to shit my breeches!’

I lowered it, but only as far as his stomach. ‘Spill your tale,’ I ordered.

He swallowed, let out a breath, and spoke rapidly.

‘I told you, I’m but a waterman. Someone comes to me, asks me to do him a service now and then, and pays me well, how can I refuse him? Given he’s a man you don’t say no to, I mean. And if he tells me there might be a body showing up, what should I do but drag it from the shallows and report a drowning? It’s not unknown, hereabouts…’

‘Was he trussed up?’ I demanded, cutting him short. ‘And if so, did you untie him?’

He made no answer.

‘This someone, who asks you to do him a service now and then,’ I persisted. ‘If his name was Giles Cobbett, whose land lies within mere walking distance from here, might I take your silence for an admission?’

Tait did stay silent. Yet my relief at having drawn this from him was at once tinged with unease: this was becoming most serious. How should I deal with the intelligence I now possessed? I took a step back from the rogue and lowered my sword’s tip to the ground… whereupon a notion flew up that made me start. Tait saw it, and shied away by instinct.

‘By the Christ, are you not done with me?’ He demanded.

‘Hear me out first,’ I said. ‘Two weeks ago, Giles Cobbett’s daughter Susanna was found dead at the Witching Pool, over there in Newland.’ I pointed across the river. ‘It’s common knowledge, and you’ll know it as most people do. What most people don’t know is that men – two of them at least - were in the vicinity of the pool that same night. They had no horses, so I think someone took them across the river. Who else knows the water as well as you, and could ferry them over in the dark? Might that be another of the small services your paymaster asked of you, Master Tait? I would like an answer.’

With that I waited, until at last the old rogue sagged.

‘See now - I never took ‘em across,’ He stated, with a muttered oath. ‘I loaned them the boat, it’s true, but I didn’t go. My eyes aren’t so good as they were… besides, they didn’t want me. Said they could find their way and bring the boat back, and all I need do was keep quiet. That’s the truth - I swear it!’

Determined as he was to free himself of blame, I believed him… but there was more. I felt it, even as I saw the beads of sweat that ran down his cheek. It was a warm day, but…

‘Two men,’ I said. ‘And you knew them.’

Morosely, Tait looked at the ground. ‘It was dark… I couldn’t swear to it,’ he muttered.

‘I seem to recall there was a moon that night,’ I said. ‘But no matter. Let me guess: they were in the service of the same man I’ve already named. One of them might have been a certain William Mount - do I hit the mark?’

At that Tait looked up sharply. ‘No,’ he said.