The Workhouse Girl (32 page)

Trigg seized the larger of the two men by the collar and gave him a hearty push that sent him stumbling against the door post. ‘Shut your bloody trap, you fool. We're taking a chance doing this in broad daylight without you two letting the whole world know we're here.'

Muttering but obviously too scared of their boss to argue, the men hurried into the scullery, leaving Trigg on his own in the yard.

Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth, hardly daring to breathe. She was shocked to see him here in a place she had thought of as a safe haven, but it came as no surprise that he was involved with the smugglers. She willed him to go back inside the house but he was walking round the wagon and seemed to be checking the contents. She prayed silently that he would not look her way. The rain barrel afforded a minimum of concealment and if he moved a couple of inches to his left and turned his head, he would almost certainly see her. She stood poised for flight and then, as if sensing her presence, he looked round. Sick with fear she took a step backwards and knocked over a spade that had been propped up against the wall.

Trigg spotted her and his jaw dropped, his mouth a gaping black hole in his pale face. Sarah fled.

She raced round the side of the house but she was hampered by her long skirts and she could hear his heavy tread as he narrowed the gap between them. She hurled herself into the damp embrace of the yew tree tunnel. Even as she did so she realised that she had made an error of judgement. She had had a vague idea that he would not follow her and that she could hide in its dark green foliage, but she had forgotten that it was partially blocked. She ran, ducking her head beneath the low-hanging branches. Trigg was shouting at her, ordering her to stop, but she continued to run until she came to the fallen oak.

‘I've got you now, you little whore.'

Trigg's triumphant cry made her even more desperate to escape. She could see daylight above her where the tree trunk had smashed through the tightly knit branches of the yew, and she realised that there was a gap beneath the branches just narrow enough for a small person to squeeze through. She threw herself to the ground, landing on a soft bed of dried leaves and seed cones, and she wriggled on her stomach, pushing her way through to the other side. She was about to scramble to her feet when her left ankle was grabbed in a vice-like grip.

‘Got you, you bitch.' Trigg's voice was muffled but triumphant. He tugged mercilessly, but fear gave her strength and with a mighty kick she managed to free herself from his grasp. She heard him swearing as she headed for the end of the tunnel.

Pausing for a moment to catch her breath she could hear Trigg crashing about as he tried to fight his way through the knotted branches, and a sudden and terrifying thought occurred to her. Was it a coincidence that Trigg was involved with this end of the smuggling ring? And did Grey know more about it than he cared to admit? Suspicions clouded her mind. She could not believe that Grey would knowingly put her in danger, but he had worked for Trigg in the past and she was beginning to wonder if he had told her everything. She took several deep breaths, telling herself that she was being ridiculous. Grey had been her friend and saviour since she was a child. He hated Trigg and all he stood for. Grey had turned his back on a life of crime.

She held on to that thought as she made her way through the shrubbery to the back of the house. She entered through the half-glassed doors that led into the drawing room and tiptoed across the floor to open the door which led into the entrance hall. She could hear angry voices as Trigg's men clattered through the house. ‘This is the last one, mate.'

‘Aye, thank God. I'm ready for a drop of ale and a bite to eat. That's if the old bugger will give us leave to stop on the way back to London.' Their voices died away and Sarah knew it was only a matter of time before they found their boss struggling to free himself from the yew tree tunnel. She went straight to the kitchen where she found Grey and Parker slumped on the floor, bound and helpless.

‘Sarah. Thank God you're safe.'

Grey's relief was patent and her suspicions were allayed in an instant. She rushed over to the table and seized a knife to cut his bonds. ‘Trigg saw me,' she said breathlessly. ‘He got stuck in the yew tree tunnel and I only just got away from him.'

He leapt to his feet, rubbing his chafed wrists. ‘He caught us unawares. Parker was expecting the men to collect the goods.'

‘I never seen the big fellow afore.' Parker glanced down at his bound wrists. ‘I'd be grateful for the use of the knife, miss.'

Sarah gave Grey a searching look. ‘So you didn't know that Trigg was involved with the smugglers?'

‘No, of course I didn't. I've done some crooked deals but I'd never involve my family in them. It seems that my uncle George has no such scruples. He must have suspected that I might come here and he's sent Trigg to find me.'

‘That explains a lot.' Sarah knelt down to release Parker. ‘Are you all right?' she asked anxiously, noting his pallor and trembling hands.

‘Aye, miss. It's nothing, but a drop of brandy would go down nicely.'

She helped him to stand and guided him to a chair. ‘Just rest for a moment and I'll see what I can do.' She turned to Grey. ‘What do we do about Trigg?'

He snatched the knife from her hand. ‘Leave him to me.'

‘What are you going to do?' she cried, catching him by the sleeve. ‘He's bigger and stronger than you. He'll kill you.'

‘He's hell bent on taking me back to London and handing me over to the police, but he's a wanted man too. I'm going to send him packing.' Grey shook her hand off and headed for the scullery. ‘Stay inside, Sarah. I don't want you getting hurt.'

SHE RACED AFTER
him. ‘Stop. Please don't go out there. You're outnumbered and you'll come off worst.'

Deaf to her pleas Grey strode through the stable yard, where the men were preparing to drive off. One of them called out, warning Grey not to approach Trigg who was likely to tear him limb from limb, but Grey did not look back. He walked on purposefully, shouting Trigg's name and challenging him to take on someone his own size. Sarah ran after him but she could tell by the determined set of his shoulders and the stubborn line of his jaw that any attempt to intervene would be futile. She came to a halt as Trigg emerged from the poisonous embrace of the yew trees brandishing a pistol. He levelled it at Grey. ‘I'm taking you back to London, cully. Your uncle George has offered a reward for your capture. It seems that you've been a bad boy, Toby.'

Grey's knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the knife. ‘Think again, Trigg. You're not taking me anywhere.'

Trigg cocked the pistol. ‘My friend here says different.'

Sarah held her breath. Trigg's attention was fixed on Grey but she sensed that one false move on her part might have fatal consequences.

The wagon approached slowly with one of the men handling the reins and the other at the horse's head with a steadying hand on its bridle. ‘Shoot him and be done with it, guv.'

‘Drive on,' Trigg snarled. ‘Wait for me at the bottom of the drive.' He signalled to the man on foot. ‘Grab him, Samson. He's worth more alive than dead.'

‘No!' Sarah cried as Samson rushed at Grey. At the same moment the driver flicked the horsewhip and the animal broke into a lumbering trot. The heavily laden wagon rumbled through the puddles, spraying muddy water over everyone as it trundled past.

‘Get away from me.' Grey struggled violently as Samson seized him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, and Trigg took the opportunity to charge at him, roaring like an angry bull.

Sarah ran towards them but she stopped suddenly, covering her mouth with her hands as an agonised cry rang out. A murder of crows rose noisily into the sky from the bare branches of the beech trees that surrounded the grounds. And then there was silence.

‘Grey,' Sarah murmured, moving closer.

Samson released him but it was Trigg who crumpled to the ground. Grey stepped aside, staring at his bloody hand.

‘You killed him, mate.' Samson backed away.

‘He fell on the knife,' Grey said dully.

‘It wasn't your fault.' Sarah turned on Samson. ‘You were holding him. If you'd kept out of it none of this would have happened.'

Grey knelt down beside the prostrate figure on the ground. A pool of blood stained the muddy puddle crimson. ‘He's dead.'

‘It weren't me holding the chiv. You're the one who'll swing for it, guv.'

Sarah rounded on him in a fury. ‘I saw it all – you're to blame. Trigg would have killed him and you told him to shoot.'

‘I'm getting out of here. I don't want nothing to do with it.' Samson broke into a run, chasing after the wagon as it disappeared into the distance.

‘You can't get away with it that easily,' Sarah called after him. She knelt down beside Grey. ‘What are we going to do?'

He shook his head. ‘I don't know.'

She heard footsteps and glancing over her shoulder she uttered a sigh of relief when she saw Parker hurrying towards them. He came to a halt, staring dispassionately at Trigg's inanimate body. ‘He's no loss to anyone.'

Sarah jumped to her feet. ‘We must get rid of the body, Parker. No one knows he's here apart from those men and they can't say anything without incriminating themselves.'

Parker helped Grey to his feet. ‘We'll hide him in amongst the yews until dark. We can't do anything in broad daylight, master.'

‘Yes, of course,' Grey said dazedly. ‘Go indoors, Sarah. We'll see to this.'

‘What are you going to do with him?' She stared in horror at the body of the man who had been responsible for so many evil deeds in his lifetime, but whose existence had been snuffed out in a moment. Even in death he posed a threat.

‘I don't know.' Grey shook his head. ‘I've never killed anyone before.'

‘It wasn't your fault. I saw it all.'

Parker took Trigg by the feet. ‘Come on, Master Toby. Help me get him out of sight.'

‘I'll wash the blood away,' Sarah said firmly. ‘Do what he says, Grey. I'll see to the rest,' She went to the stable yard and filled a bucket with water from the rain barrel. Grey and Parker had moved the body to the cover of the yew trees by the time she returned, and it took several trips before she was satisfied that no trace of Trigg's blood was left at the scene. She put the bucket back where she had found it and went to retrieve the basket of food. Trigg might be dead but they were very much alive and when the shock of what had happened wore off she knew that both Grey and Parker would be ready for a meal. As for herself, she could still see Trigg's staring but lifeless eyes and the ugly twist of his lips that remained even in death. The sickly metallic smell of his blood lingered in her nostrils and she doubted if she would ever want to eat again.

She returned to the house and found Grey seated at the kitchen table, sipping brandy. He looked up as she entered the room. Parker half rose to his feet but she motioned him to sit. ‘It's all right, Parker. Don't get up on my account.'

Grey raised his head with an attempt at a smile which did not quite work. ‘Thank you, Sarah.'

She put the basket on the table. ‘I didn't do much.'

‘You were very brave. Most young ladies would have had a fit of the vapours if they'd witnessed something like that.'

She smiled. ‘I'm a child of the workhouse, Grey. I watched my mother die. I don't think anything could be worse than that, and all the bad things that have happened to me were caused by Trigg. I can't mourn a man like him.'

Parker raised his glass. ‘Let him rot in hell. That's what I say.'

‘Have a tot of brandy, Sarah.' Grey pushed the bottle across the table. ‘You look as though you need it.'

She shook her head. ‘I'll make myself a cup of tea. I need to keep a clear head and so do you if you're to find a way to dispose of the body.' She went to the range where the kettle simmered on the hob and was about to make the tea when she heard a movement in the scullery. Grey leapt to his feet as the door opened.

‘Davey.' Sarah rushed forward to throw her arms around him. ‘Thank goodness it's you.'

He held her at arm's length. ‘What's going on? There's a knife in the sink with blood on the blade.'

‘Hell and damnation. I should have seen to that first.' Grey pushed past him and disappeared into the scullery.

‘It was Trigg's blood,' Sarah whispered. ‘He's dead, Davey.'

He stared at her, frowning. ‘You'd better tell me everything.'

She opened her mouth to tell him but the words stuck in her throat and she turned away. ‘I was making a pot of tea. Would you like some, Davey?' She went to pick up the kettle but her hand was shaking uncontrollably and boiling water splashed onto the fire, hissing and spitting as it hit the burning logs.

‘Sit down and tell me what's happened.' Davey pulled up a chair. ‘I'll make the tea.'

‘It were an accident, boy,' Parker said grimly. ‘It weren't meant to happen like it did.'

Grey walked into the kitchen and tossed the knife onto the table. ‘He attacked me,' he said tersely. ‘He fell on the blade.'

‘It wasn't your fault,' Sarah cried passionately.

‘No one's going to believe that.' Grey sat down, holding his head in his hands. ‘I wanted to kill him, but that doesn't mean to say that I'd have gone through with it.'

‘He's no great loss, if you ask me.' Parker stood up, swaying slightly. ‘I've got things to do, master.' He went out through the scullery and the back door slammed against the lintel as he closed it behind him.

‘Can you trust him?' Davey set the teapot on the table in front of Sarah. ‘Where d'you keep the cups?'