Page 11 of Beatrix

He nodded, dashing at the tears with dirty fingers, leaving dark streaks down his face. ‘I told you some o’ the truth, but not everythin’, he sighed after a second. ‘And I reckon I owe you both the gospel fer ‘elping me. But, fair doos, once I tell you, I’m thinkin’ you might wish you’d stayed right away from the ‘ole bloody shenanigans.’

Gladys glanced over at Arnold, then back at the boy’s anguished face. ‘Right now, I reckon the ‘ead an’ front of the whole bleedin’ business is to put this stiff somewhere where it’s not like to be seen by some clatterfart.’ She didn’t phrase it as a question. Billy nodded his head vehemently. Pursing her lips, the matron turned back to the giant then nodded towards the corpse. ‘See if there’s a cellar or better still a cupboard wi’ a lock on it – as long as we can squeeze her into it.’

Without speaking, Arnold nodded and left the room while Gladys turned back to the now-trembling boy. ‘Sit down afore you fall down,’ she ordered. As soon as he was seated – on the chair furthest from the corpse - she went on. ‘Jus’ so we’re clear. After we’ve put the baggage to bed somewhere cosy, I’ll be expectin’ the ‘ole truth – not some bloody whitewash you’ve come up wi’ while you’ve bin twiddlin’ yer thumbs. I want the bottom fact – no more, no less. Try to fob us off wi’ another plumper, an’ I’ll ‘ave Arnold ‘and yer scrawny arse to the peelers, bloody gift wrapped.’

Despite the mild tone, Billy had no doubt she meant every word, and he gave a hurried nod along with a whispered, ‘Crook me elbow an’ wish it never comes straight.’ The oath seemed to satisfy her, and she gave a nod of her own, just as Arnold came back into the room.

‘There’s a cupboard on the landin’ wi’ a lock on it. She should keep in there fer a couple o’ days wi’out stinkin’ the place out.’

‘Right then, you take the ‘ead, an’ I’ll take the feet.’ She took one last look at Billy, sitting like a statue in his chair. ‘Move so much as a bleedin’ inch while we’re gone, boy, an’ I’ll not bother wi’ the peelers. I’ll string you up meself,’ she warned.

Then without further ado, they carted Muriel Pemberton’s body into her ignominious resting place.

When they came back, Gladys solemnly covered the chair on which Muriel had breathed her last in a large, moth-eaten blanket then finally sat down while Arnold pulled up a writing chair.

‘Right then, lad, let’s ‘ave it, chapter an’ verse.’

Looking anxiously out of the window at the light, Billy took a deep breath and told them. He started with Winner Street and ended with Castel-a-Mare. When he’d finished, there was a silence so profound the carriages back on the main thoroughfare were clearly audible. For a second, Billy was afraid he was about to end up right next to Muriel in her cupboard, but then, surprisingly, it was Arnold who spoke.

‘The story’s so bleedin’ preposterous, I reckon it might just be true.’ He shook his head sadly.

Billy, who had absolutely no idea what preposterous meant, latched on to the might just be true bit.

‘I swear every word of it’s gospel,’ he responded urgently. ‘I need to get ‘ome to Mr ‘Enry as soon as I can so I can tell ‘im about this and ‘e can come an’ do a proper search.’

‘Well, Billy Wiggins, you might fancy yerself a bit of an artful bloody dodger, but I reckon on this occasion, you left yer brains in yer arse. If I wos yer Mr ‘Enry, I’d be makin’ sure you didn’t get to sit down fer a bloody week.’

Billy bit his lip at the matron’s blunt assessment of his supposed cleverness. He didn’t doubt she was right.

Much to the boy’s relief, however, she didn’t belabour the point, but turned to her companion. ‘We ain’t got the time to jus’ sit ‘ere until our would-be dodger ‘ere gets to Paignton an’ back, so I’m thinkin’ we shut this place up like nothin’s ‘appened. I’ll take ‘im to the station an’ you cover the teatime shift ‘til I get back. Once the lad’s on a train, I’ll be straight back to the Dog.’ She turned back to Billy.

‘I’ll pay fer yer ticket, Billy Wiggins, but you can tell yer Mr ‘Enry I want every penny back. I don’t reckon yer likely to get back here afore tomorrow afternoon, so when you do, ‘ead over to the Dog an’ we’ll bring you back ‘ere in the cart. Don’t bother wi’ an ‘ackney. The last thing any of you want is fer some cull to remember you.’

She stood up and took a deep breath. ‘I’m ‘opin’ that everythin’ you tol’ us truly is the bottom fact, Billy Wiggins. If yer Mr ‘Enry really is lookin’ to stop this mudsill an’ save them kids, then we’re ‘ere to ‘elp. But if yer shammin… well, let’s jus’ say Arnold ‘ere’s not a man to cross if you get my meanin’.

Billy gave a vigorous nod, and five minutes later they were back in the cart on the way to the station.

* * *

Climbing swiftly to his feet, Henry hurried over to the distraught boy and without hesitation wrapped his arms around the skinny torso. ‘It’s alright, lad,’ he soothed, ‘whatever’s happened, we’ll sort it out.’ He looked over the boy’s head at Peggy, who’d come running in behind. ‘Would you ask Mrs Williams to bring in a plate of bread and cheese, please, Peggy, oh… and a hot chocolate?’ The maid nodded and turned back towards the kitchen while Henry led the boy to a footstool next to his chair.

Dashing away his tears, Billy sat without complaint, and just as he took a deep, shuddering breath… the doorbell rang.

‘Who the devil could be calling at this hour?’ Incredibly, Charlotte’s customary indignation was tinged with fear. As all eyes turned back to the door, Beatrix quickly got to her feet. But before she’d taken two steps, it opened to reveal Benedict Hartley.

With an incoherent cry, Arabella jumped to her feet, and picking up her skirts, rushed over and threw herself into his arms.

‘It’s good to see you, Benedict,’ Henry said drily a few moments later as the Chief Inspector gently extracted himself from Arabella’s embrace.

‘Has something happened to Billy?’ Ben asked, looking with concern at the white-faced boy now hugging Aggie.

Charlotte nodded, before saying briskly. ‘We’re waiting to find out exactly what, but it appears that Muriel Pemberton has gone to her reward, which in fairness was not entirely unanticipated. I assume your presence means you have some news for us, Chief Inspector?’ She didn’t mention Bella’s immodest conduct, though her expression clearly hinted at a future conversation.

Ben nodded wearily, then noticed Rob for the first time.

Seeing the sudden question in Benedict’s eyes, Henry tsked, his irritation directed at himself. ‘Forgive my rudeness, Rob. This gentleman is Detective Chief Inspector Benedict Hartley of the Exeter Police Force. Benedict, this is Mr Robert Noon, come to visit us from Australia.’

Rob stood up as Ben stepped forward. Both men shook hands warily. On Ben’s part, because the presence of a stranger from halfway across the world was likely to put a spoke in the wheel of their investigation at the very least.