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Ulysses whistled. ‘So, how did he end up in Lesser Peeving?’
‘Partially as punishment. The parish is poor, inhabited mostly by fishermen and quarrymen. Positively infested by smugglers, too. Not the kind of place where he’d have the opportunity to enrich himself by stealing from the collection plate. And also…’ He got a bitter taste in his mouth, which he washed away with another gulp of purifying brandy. ‘Well, you do not think the church is willing to advertise the fact that one of its clerics is a thief, do you?’
‘They wanted to hush it up?’
‘That’s about the size of it. Also, as I think I mentioned to you before I left for Norfolk, his father held the living in the parish close to Kelsham Park. He probably used what influence he had to get clemency for… Clement.’ He glanced into his empty glass, wondering if draining it so swiftly had been responsible for him speaking so clumsily.
‘Which reminds me,’ said Ulysses. ‘Did you discover anything about the girl from Norfolk, while you were in Norfolk?’
‘It wasn’t her,’ he said, setting down his glass and walking away from it before he was tempted to ask for another refill. ‘That is, there was a girl called Jenny Wren, who came from that hamlet.’
‘Bogholt,’ supplied Ulysses.
‘Yes. And a more aptly named place I have yet to discover,’ he said with a sneer as he recalled the extreme simplicity of the place and all its inhabitants. ‘However, by casting out lures, which mostly involved inventing a brother with a dubious talent for compromising innocent young females and insinuating that I had heard of a child who must be provided for by my family, I did track down a girl of that name. Who bore no resemblance whatever to the description given of the person who worked as a maid for both Lady Tarbrook and Mrs Kellet. However,’ he continued, when both Ulysses and Atlas groaned in disappointment, ‘it turned out that she had spent some time in a charitable home where they hoped to reform unmarried mothers. Find them respectable work. And it was run by a group of ladies filled with evangelical zeal, who had a most understanding young cleric come in to hear their confessions and offer absolution on a regular basis.’
‘Not…’
‘Yes. One Reverend Cottam. The trouble is…’ the words stuck in his throat ‘…I have just, this very day, become betrothed to his sister.’
‘Good God! How did that come about?’ That was Atlas.
Ulysses, however, gave him a knowing look. ‘You already have a plan, don’t you? Damn it, but as usual you are one step ahead of us.’
Rawcliffe toyed, for a fraction of a second, with admitting that it had been a total coincidence that he’d stopped for a change of horses at the very same inn where Clare had been waiting for her connecting coach. But it would take too long to explain the history between them which had resulted in her bloodying his nose. ‘I came across Clare in an inn, just as she was about to take the stage to employment which her brother had organised for her. And…effectively compromised her,’ was all he was willing to say. Especially since he still couldn’t quite believe he’d practically forced her to marry him, in spite of all her objections.
‘My God,’ said Ulysses, giving him a hard stare, ‘that’s cold, even for you. Using the family connection as the perfect excuse for going down to Lesser Peeving and carrying on the investigation Archie started.’
Rawcliffe thought about protesting that he’d never considered that aspect of things, but then, to be honest, Ulysses had a point. Clare’s relationship to Clement was a factor he could exploit in regard to their investigation.
‘We are dealing with a man who has murdered,’ he pondered out loud, ‘or perhaps has caused to have murdered one of my oldest, closest friends. Do you think there is anything I should not do to see him brought to justice?’
‘You cannot know, for certain, that this Cottam person is responsible,’ Atlas pointed out. ‘Don’t forget Lady Buntingford’s part in it all. She was the one who provided the references that got those girls into the houses where they stole the jewels.’
