The Harrogate Secret (aka The Secret) Page 5

  Here she paused at the first door before knocking on it, and when there came a grunt from within the room she opened the door and pressed the boy forward.

  The man was sitting in a deep leather chair to the side of a fire that was burning brightly, and the first thing Freddie noticed about it was that it had big lumps of coal on it, roundies, the best, not slack dust like theirs at home.

  ‘Leave him,’ the man said; ‘I’ll ring for you in a moment.’

  He was alone with the man now, standing in front of him. He looked different from what he did last night. His face looked different. His voice sounded different. Was he drunk? No; because men like him generally bawled when they were drunk, or angry. But now this man’s voice was quiet, oddly quiet.

  ‘You’re a smart little fellow, aren’t you?’

  He gave no answer, for what could he say? He knew he was smart but it didn’t do to brag about it.

  ‘What do you think of last night’s business?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Oh, come on, come on; you worked out what your blind sister told you. You said she was blind, didn’t you?’

  ‘Aye, she is.’

  ‘You also said she saw with her ears. Funny expression that.’

  Again he made no answer.

  And now the man said, ‘What would you think if I told you that the message you brought was just another red herring?’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘I mean, as far as my man Frank can ascertain, someone was playing double and treble games. What would you say about the two men over on the north side being fooled in their turn and the squad on the south side also being fooled? It would seem that somebody apparently gave us away, me and one or two others, but that in turn was another red herring in order to let the Newcastle lot distribute a load of loads. Immediately they could after the tide crossed the bar they went over it with some precious cargo. What would you say to that?’

  What would he say? His mind was trying to work it out. Yes, he could be right; but then the faggot man, and Mr Blaze and Johnson and Alec Crighton, they would have known about it, wouldn’t they? Perhaps they didn’t ’cos they were at loggerheads with the Newcastle lot. He’d heard tell a while ago that there was a man come up from Devon, a place in the West Country wherever that was, it must be as far as London town or some foreign territory like that. But this man was well up in the game and clever. It was said he had escaped the excise men and made his way here…He had thought it was just a story.

  His head was beginning to swim with his thoughts and the heat of the room and not a little from the stare of the man’s eyes on him.

  ‘Well, what have you got to say to that?’

  ‘Some men are clever.’

  ‘Huh! Well, that’s as good an explanation as any I’ve heard. Do you think you’re clever?’

  There it was again. He’d have to answer something.

  ‘I have me wits about me.’

  The man didn’t speak for some seconds, and then he said, and with a change of voice for his words now came slow and deep, ‘Well, I hope you have enough wits about you to keep a silent tongue in your head or else you could get into dire trouble. You understand me?’

  Yes, he understood him, but he didn’t say so. And the man went on. ‘You heard a lot of talk last night and you saw a lot. You know my wife is dead, don’t you?’

  His mouth fell open. No, he didn’t, not really. Yet he had heard them say something in the kitchen, but it hadn’t really sunk in because they hadn’t used the word dead. But the poor lady was dead, like Billy, his brother two years ago. He had cried when Billy died, because Billy had been like Nancy, gentle and kind.

  ‘And the child was very sickly; it died too.’ He stopped here, and Freddie watched him turn his head away as he muttered, ‘But it’ll not go along of her; her brat’ll be put where it belongs in…’ His voice trailed away into a growl as Freddie’s mind yelled at him, Eeh! Eeh! What was he saying!

  The man was talking directly to him again: ‘Now you are to forget all you heard or saw last night. Do you hear? Now pay attention to me: if you divulge…I mean, if you talk about it to anyone it will come back to me, and I have ways and means of paying for services done, good or bad. Again, do you understand me?’

  Oh yes, he understood him. But in this moment he had one wish, that he was grown up and big, oh yes, really big, with a big fist that he could bash in between this man’s eyes, ’cos he was going to smother his bairn. That’s what they had said in the kitchen, and they had been right.

  ‘Hold out your hand.’

  He held out his hand, and when a coin was put into it the man said, ‘How much is that?’

  He knew what a sixpence was and a bob and half a dollar and a five shilling piece but he had never seen a sovereign before, or was it a half-sovereign?

  ‘It’s gold, it could be a half-sovereign or a sovereign.’

  ‘You haven’t seen one before?’

  ‘No; leastways not close up.’

  ‘What do you mean, not close up?’

  ‘Well, I’ve seen such goin’ over a counter.’

  ‘Oh. Well, this is not a sovereign, it is a half-sovereign, and that is a lot of money, don’t you think?’

  ‘Aye, it is.’

  ‘Boy.’

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘You say sir when you speak to a gentleman.’

  There was a pause, and then he said, ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘What is your Christian name?’

  ‘Freddie.’

  ‘Your full name?’

  ‘Musgrave.’

  ‘Well, Freddie Musgrave, that is the first payment for your silence; but once you open your mouth…and you’ve got to do that just once and I shall know, the payment will be very different. You understand?’

  Again those two words; and again he paused in answering because now his heart was beating so quickly it seemed to be sticking in his throat. But he brought out, ‘Aye, sir,’ on a sort of gulp. And then the voice came cracking at him, no longer soft: ‘Where do I store my stuff? Come on, tell me where I store my stuff.’

  His body began to tremble. If he said he didn’t know he would trick him, trip him up in some way. He gulped again, then said in a very small voice, ‘In the bed underneath.’

  ‘Good. You spoke the truth, so now you know. But that’s one room my friends didn’t search, isn’t it? And it will come to some sharp-witted individual later, and likely they will return, but by then they will only find two horsehair mattresses and a feather tick, because it would be silly to leave the stuff where it is, wouldn’t it, Freddie Musgrave?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘And do you realise, Master Freddie, that we haven’t seen the last of each other? You will be paying me further visits now and then…How many are there in your family?’

  ‘Seven at home, sir. Nell, the eldest, she’s married.’

  ‘Your father, what does he do?’

  ‘Nowt, sir; ’cept make bits of furniture for the house. His legs are broken.’

  ‘Are you the only breadwinner?’

  ‘No; there’s John. He works down the pit. He’s older’n me, twelve.’

  ‘And the blind girl, how old is she?’

  ‘Eleven, sir.’

  ‘Well, Freddie Musgrave, your family seem somewhat in need, and this alone should help you to keep a still tongue, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Here!’ His hand had gone into his pocket again, and drawing out a wash-leather bag he opened it and now thrust another half-sovereign into Freddie’s hand, saying, ‘You should now be asking yourself how you are going to account for that money. So how are you going to account for it?’

  He hesitated a moment before saying, ‘Payment for warnin’ you ’bout the raid, sir.’

  ‘Yes; yes, quite good, payment for warning me about the raid. But—’ Now the man was leaning forward, his nose almost touching Freddie’s as he said, ‘It wasn’t payment for the
raid, was it? Answer me!’

  ‘W…well, not quite, sir, but you…you’d have likely given me somethin’.’

  The man fell back into his chair now and, looking up towards the ornamental ceiling, he gave a hollow laugh, saying, ‘This little fellow will go far. Perhaps, being such a wise owl, he could tell me how one should respond to sympathy in losing your second beautiful wife and her child.’

  When the man said nothing further but still sat with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Freddie stood as if frozen to the spot although the sweat was running down from his hair. Then he almost jumped as the man’s hand was thrust out towards a side table from which he picked up a long-stemmed pipe and started to draw on it, pulling at it with his breath, but there was no smoke coming from the head of it.

  ‘Go on, get out!…Get out!’

  As Freddie hastily backed from him, he saw that the man was still looking at the ceiling, while still pulling on the pipe, and well before reaching the door he turned and ran; and his hand fumbled with the door handle before he sprang into the passage, looked first one way then the other, before remembering he had come up some steps. And now he was flying across the hall, and when he opened the kitchen door he stood with his back against it and gasped while he looked at the three people further down the room all gazing back at him.

  ‘What is it? What is it, hinny?’ The old woman’s voice was soft now, and as she came to meet him he ran towards her and leant against her for a moment as he gasped out, ‘He…he was acting funny, frightenin’.’

  ‘There’s nothin’ to be frightened of; he’s not well, he’s ill, bad you know.’

  His head was against her waistband, and he found himself looking towards the settle on which was a clothes basket and in it the child. And of a sudden he was running from her towards it. The baby’s eyes were open and it was sucking on a linen bag of some sort and its small hand was moving in and out. He turned and, looking from the old man to his daughter, he muttered, ‘She’s not dead! She’s not dead!’

  ‘Listen, youngster’—the old man was on his hunkers before him—‘the master’s likely told you you’ve got to forget all that’s happened here. Now, be a good lad and go home and do as he bid you, forget all about it. Speak to no-one. I repeat that, do you hear? No-one, because he has ways an’ means of gettin’ back at those who do him down. He can be a good friend an’ all, and I should imagine you and your lot over there are in need of a friend. Now think on it. These things happen.’ And his face now stretching into a smile, he added, jocularly, ‘There’s worse things happen at sea every night, for that matter on the seafront, on both shores.’

  Freddie turned to the older woman and she nodded at him, saying, quietly, ‘Do as my husband tells you, lad. And here; I’ve got a bag of stuff ready for you to take back to your family. There’s a ham shank in there an’ some butter an’ cheese and a fresh loaf, an’ odds an’ ends. The bag’s nearly as big as yersel’. My man’s got to go an errand into the town, he’ll take you on the cart to the shore. I should imagine you can afford a keel boat across the river the day. How much did he give you?’

  He seemed to have difficulty in opening his fist because the nails had pressed into the flesh in his fright. And when he exposed the two half-sovereigns they all nodded, and the old man said, ‘Well, that’s good pay. I’ll say it is. You can’t say it isn’t. Nor can you say he’s not generous to his own. You stick on the right side of him, lad, an’ he’ll see you through. An’ your family an’ all. So come on now, an’ don’t look so white about the gills. Everything’s gona be all right. But put that lot deep in your pocket an’ don’t let on about it to no outsider.’

  In doing as he was bid, he began to walk towards the man, then turned and looked into the clothes basket again. The child looked to him like Lily had done only a short while ago when she used to lie in the skip sucking a pap bag, and he asked a question, but in a very low apprehensive voice, ‘He…he won’t hurt her, I mean, you won’t let him, will you?’

  There was a pause before both the old woman and the young one said together, ‘No, no; don’t worry. It’ll be all right.’ But as he stared at them he felt sure that neither of them could do anything. ‘Go on now.’ The old woman patted him on the head, and when she lifted the bass bag from the table and handed it to him the weight of it almost pulled him down, but he had to force himself to look at her and say, ‘Ta, missis. Me ma’ll say ta an’ all.’

  He saw the old woman bite on her lower lip before saying, ‘Your ma’s got a nice little lad in you. Tell her that from me. Go on now.’

  At the front door the old man took the bass bag from him and hoisted it up onto the cart, then lifted him up onto the front seat before taking his own place and saying, ‘Gee up, there!’ to the horse. And so Freddie rode most of the way back home, for Frank Wheatley himself put him in a keel and paid his penny fare and an extra penny to have his little sculler pulled behind. And so he crossed the river on the morning tide, and for the rest of his life he thought of it as the morning after the night when things began to happen to him.

  Two

  He had been landed at the far end of the town and as he wended his way through the long narrow street he was jostled by every kind of inhabitant and vehicle; twice he slipped on some garbage, and the contents of the bag were only saved from spilling by the strings at its top.

  It was as he left the town and passed the row of cottages prior to taking the steps that led to home when he saw in the distance two of the excise men. One was Mr Dees who was the Principal Coast Officer, and he was with the Landing and Searching Officer called Robert Leitch. Mr Leitch lived at yon side of the town in a nice house and he seemed a nice enough man because he had spoken to him. But then you didn’t get many nice men among the excise.

  He had never seen them along this way before, at least not together, and this early. Mr Dees’ office was just above the quay and that didn’t open for business till ten in the morning.

  Now, as if the bag was a featherweight, he sprinted up the steps, then along the path and into the house.

  And his entry caused his father to jerk himself from the bed and his mother to rush out of the other room, and it was evident from the expression on her face that she was about to yell at him. But when she spoke her voice was even but very low. ‘So you’ve got back,’ she said.

  ‘Aye, Ma.’

  He hoisted the bag onto the table, and she approached from the other side and, looking down at it, she said, ‘And what’s that, may I ask?’

  ‘Some bits and pieces from the housekeeper over there.’ He jerked his head back towards the door.

  ‘Why? What did you do to earn that?’

  ‘Don’t ask the road you know, woman.’ His da was sitting on the floor near the edge of the table now, and he put his hand out and touched his son’s thin shoulder, saying, ‘You look tired, lad.’

  His mother came round the table and stood at the other side of him. ‘I’ve got some broth, still hot; could you do with a bite?’

  ‘No, Ma, ta. I’ve…I’ve had me breakfast.’

  She stared at him, then said, ‘Well, you may have had it, but you look fagged, boy. Sit down.’ She pointed to a cracket, but he didn’t obey her; instead, he undid the strings on the top of the bass bag and, one after the other, he pulled out the eatables while his parents stared open-eyed at the array.

  ‘By! It looks as if your boat’s come in, lad.’

  Robert placed his forearms on the edge of the table and hoisted himself up a little further. ‘That must be a pound of butter if it’s an ounce. And there’s some ham on that shank. My! I’ve never seen so much stuff all at once for many a long year. They must keep a good table in that kitchen where you spent the night.’

  He now slid back to the floor. ‘Did you spend it there? Or did you go to your granny’s?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, man.’ His wife thrust out her foot towards him. ‘Would he have brought this lot back if me ma had got her hands on the bag?’


  ‘Aye, you’re right there, Jinny, you’re right there. Anyway, come and sit down, lad, and tell us all about it.’

  As his father propelled himself to his favourite spot at the side of the fireplace to sit with his back against the wall, Freddie seated himself on the cracket; and he dropped his head and looked down at his hands pressed tight between his bare knees before he forced himself to say, ‘Not much to tell, Da,’ when all the time he wanted to fling himself, not against his da, but into his mother’s arms and howl out all his feelings about what had happened in that house across the water, especially about the poor lady and her bairn.

  ‘Did you get there in time? Did the excise come?’

  ‘Aye, just, Da; just in time. And aye, they came, but they found nowt.’

  ‘Was there anythin’ to find?’

  ‘Aye, two kegs of rum down the well; but the master knew that’s where they would likely look and he had his man put them in the midden.’

  ‘In the midden?’

  ‘Aye. Well, they were in kegs, it wouldn’t do them any harm.’

  ‘And he just had two kegs? That’s all he had?’

  Freddie hesitated: he blinked and wetted his lips. ‘I think he had other bits and pieces like baccy an’ wine an’ silks an’ stuff, but it was where nobody could find it…’ Then he added, ‘I suppose, ’cos they didn’t get anything.’

  ‘Did…did they see you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where were you in all this then?’

  Things were getting difficult. He slowly looked from one to the other before answering, ‘Outside, in…in the garden.’

  ‘Freddie.’ His father had hold of his hands now. ‘You…you frightened about something?’

  Yes, he was frightened about something. Oh, Lord God, he was! For a moment his da’s face seemed to have become another’s looking into his, the nose almost touching his and the promise in the eyes of what would happen to him if he talked, at least about…He couldn’t even tell himself what the special thing was he must keep silent about, and so he said, ‘No, Da, except…except that I’m tired.’