A Journeyman to Grief (32 page)

Once again Murdoch tried to move, but the more he did, the more everything hurt. Finally, panting, he lay still and waited.

However, you, sir, unlike many other unfortunates, can assume that when you are rescued you will be safe from further harm. Those who release you will not hurt you and you will be set free. That should be a comforting thought.

CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE

H
e had lost all sense of time, but he thought he’d been lying like this for more than two hours. The cord had been tied very tightly around his wrists and ankles and they were throbbing, but the worst agony was from the pressure of the stick against the back of his knees and his elbows. He found that by rocking forward onto his toes he was able to alleviate some of the strain on the back of his legs, but he couldn’t sustain that for long periods. To make matters worse, he was finding it increasingly hard to get enough air inside the bag. The material was a heavy linen and was barely porous enough for him to breathe. Flies crawled across his exposed hands and he was powerless to shoo them away. He was also aware of an increasingly urgent need to void his bladder. Unbidden, Professor Broske’s words came back to him, insinuating themselves into this brain.

Let us remember that fear is a disease to be cured. The brave man may fail sometimes, but the coward always fails.

At first, he had forced himself to concentrate, trying to work out who had attacked him – somebody who knew him, knew
where to find him, who had even winkled out a truth about his character. A man or a woman? He still wasn’t sure. These thoughts went round and round in his brain for a while, but before too long the agony took over everything. He began to despair that no one would discover him before morning.

Suddenly, he heard the door open.

He shouted as loud as he could. “Help! Over here!”

He hoped to God it wasn’t his attacker returned to torment him some more.

There were footsteps, the sound of boots on the flagstones. Suddenly there were hands at the back of his neck and the bag was jerked off his head. The stick was pulled away.

Murdoch gasped and gulped. Oh, blessed sweet air.

His eyes were dazzled by the light of a hurricane lamp that was on the ground beside him, but he could just make out the worried face of Elijah Green.

“Who did this to you, Mr. Murdoch?”

“I didn’t see.” He could hardly speak. “Whoever it was came from behind and took me by surprise.”

“Let me get that rope off. Sorry, this will hurt a little. The cord is tight.”

He removed a knife from a sheath at his belt and forced it in between Murdoch’s swollen wrists, nicking the skin as he did so. The rope fell off and he did the same with the cord at the ankles. Murdoch licked his dry lips.

“I’ll get you some water.”

“No, wait. I’ve got to piss first.”

Green grabbed a pail from a nearby bench.

“Use this. Can you stand?”

Murdoch tried to straighten up, but there was no circulation in his legs and he was weak as a babe.

“I’ll hold you,” said Green.

“No! I can do it myself. Just give me something to lean against.”

Green dragged a bail of hay in closer, but Murdoch couldn’t stand and his hands had gone numb. He had no choice but to accept the offer of help.

When he was done, Elijah lowered him gently to the ground, then he lit the big hurricane lamp that was hanging from a hook on the beam. “I’ll be back in a tick.”

As sensation returned to his limbs, Murdoch’s entire body felt on fire. Cautiously he tried to straighten his legs, but they felt as if they no longer belonged to him. Elijah was back at his side almost immediately. In one hand he had a tin mug, in the other a brown bottle.

“This first.” He handed the mug to Murdoch, who gulped the cool water. “Now drink this, but slower.” He poured some liquid from the bottle into the mug.

Murdoch took a sip and some burning fluid slid down his throat, causing him to cough. Tears came to his eyes.

Green guided the mug to Murdoch’s lips as if he were an invalid. “It’s not the best brandy money can buy, but it should do the trick. Take another sip.”

Murdoch did so and the second and third swallows were easier. The warmth from the liquor spread quickly through his body.

“Good, you’re starting to look alive again. I wasn’t sure for a minute there.”

Murdoch grabbed hold of Elijah’s wrist.

“You’re late, aren’t you? Don’t you do your chores earlier than this?”

Green stared at him. “We were celebrating with my son. It was his birthday.”

Holding the man this tightly was shooting pain up Murdoch’s arm, but he didn’t let go.

“How do I know you weren’t the one who attacked me? It’s an old trick. You pretend to leave, then wait a while and come back as if you’re just coming in to work.”

In the shadowy light of the lamp, Green’s face was almost hidden so that Murdoch couldn’t see his expression, but he didn’t struggle or try to get away. Murdoch tightened his grip and felt the other man wince.

“Whisper at me. Say, ‘Somebody will discover you eventually, Mr. Murdoch.’ Go on say it! ‘Somebody will discover you eventually.’”

Green started to repeat the words, “Somebody will discover –”

“No! I said
whisper
. Like this.” Murdoch imitated his assailant’s hoarse voice. Green tried again. There was no resemblance to the voice Murdoch had heard and he released Green’s arm. Besides, his sense was that his attacker wasn’t the same size as Green. Whoever had attacked him was very strong but smaller. The voice had consistently hovered just above Murdoch’s head level.

“All right, I believe you.”

Green let out his breath. “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Murdoch, because I had nothing to do with tying you up.”

Murdoch struggled to get to his feet, but his legs still couldn’t hold him and he staggered. Green caught him.

“I think you should sit a bit longer.”

“No. I’ve got to move. Whoever it was attacked me said he still had one more person to get.”

“Did he tell you who?”

“No.”

“Then better to hold off for a while. Frankly, sir, you’re not fit to help anybody at the moment.” He was right. Murdoch sat down on the bale of hay.

Green peered into his face. “You’ve got quite a goose egg over your eye. Did he hit you?”

“Not there. I fell forward and met with the flagstones.”

Green stood up and took a round tin from the nearby shelf. Murdoch noticed it had a picture of a horse on it and there was a whiff of a strong-smelling ointment when he opened it.

“This’ll sting for a second or two,” said Green, and he daubed some of the sticky substance on the lump. Murdoch jerked away from him.

“I almost forgot you’ve had a lot of experience dealing with bruises, haven’t you?”

Green answered calmly but stopped what he was doing. “That’s right.”

Murdoch felt himself flush with anger. “Is that what this is all about, Green? Are you trying to warn me off? Are you? Or did you send somebody else to do the dirty work?”

But even as he said it, he knew the circumstances didn’t really fit. Why would his attacker have whispered those chilling words in his ear.
I have punished two. I have one more to find.
Of course, that could be a ruse to throw him off track, but somehow he knew it wasn’t. He – she – had meant every word.

“Have you got any more of that brandy?” he asked.

Green handed him the mug. Murdoch gulped the raw brandy to the dregs.

“I want you to work on me.”

“Beg pardon, sir?”

“Work on me the way you would with one of your fighters. I’ve got to be up and moving now. Be quick.”

Green took up the lantern and disappeared into the gloom of the barn. Murdoch was glad his back was protected and reached for the stick, but Elijah soon returned carrying a battered doctor’s valise, which he put on the ground.

“Let’s get you out of your jacket first.”

The slightest lifting of his arms sent white-hot stabs of pain racing through Murdoch’s muscles, but he managed to struggle out of his coat.

Green removed the cufflinks from Murdoch’s shirt, shoved up the sleeves, then took out a bottle from his bag, uncorked it, and splashed some of the liquid into his cupped hand. There was a pungent smell of wintergreen. He started to rub the liniment into Murdoch’s forearm. His grip was firm and sure, and in spite of himself, Murdoch began to relax as the pain abated.

“Why were you here in the barn?” Green asked as he turned to work on the other arm.

“I received a letter that was supposedly from Mrs. Adelaide Cooke, asking me to come here and I’d be given some information about Talbert’s death.”

Green shook his head. “Mrs. Cooke isn’t in town. I got a message that she’s gone to visit her sister in Georgetown and she left Musgrave in charge.”

“No, I know it wasn’t her.”

“Did you get any information?”

“No. Nothing.”

“I wonder why they wanted you here in the barn.”

“According to my attacker, so I could be taught a lesson. I was tied up in the same way that Talbert was tied, although in his case, they used a poker not a broom.”

Green stopped what he was doing. “It’d be easier to work on your legs if you removed your trousers.”

“Never mind about that. Do the best you can.” Murdoch felt he had experienced enough humiliation for one day. Green didn’t insist and returned the liniment bottle in the valise and wiped his hands on a piece of sacking. Then he started to knead deep into
Murdoch’s thigh muscles. Murdoch yelped and tried to keep talking through his groans.

Finally, Green leaned back on his haunches. “That’ll do you for now, but you’re going to be stiff for a few days.”

“Thank you.” Murdoch eased himself back into his jacket. “My attacker said something very strange. He, or for that matter, she, said, ‘What God joined together should not have been. First the father, then the son, and last the holy one and we are done.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

Elijah looked puzzled. “Sounds sort of Papist. Don’t they say prayers like that?”

“The blessing is in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”

“Somebody pretending to be Papist then?”

“Maybe, but it didn’t sound like that to me. They used the word
punishment
. Two had been already punished and there was one more to find. I assume the two are Cooke and Talbert, but I’d better find out soon who is meant by the holy one.”

“You said, man or woman. You think it might have been a woman who attacked you? She’d have to be real strong.”

“I was taken by surprise and the person had a revolver and threatened to shoot me. As I couldn’t see if it was an idle threat or not, I complied.”

Green closed up his valise. “Sounds like sensible thinking to me.” There was something in his voice, sympathy perhaps, and Murdoch realized he must have been conveying the sense of shame that was gripping his gut. How could he have been so foolish and so inept as to let himself be tricked like that? Rationally, he knew there hadn’t been much he could do to defend himself, but he felt he’d behaved like a coward. His embarrassment made his voice sharp.

“Help me up, will you?”

Green tucked his arm under Murdoch’s and got him to his feet. Murdoch felt wobbly but managed to take a couple of steps forward. His knees were shaking. He perched for a moment on the stool from which he had been so ignominiously thrown. He leaned his hands on his knees and paused, taking in a deep breath.

“Because somebody got the better of you doesn’t mean you’re not a man of bottom, as we say in the fight business,” said Green. “In my books, you’ve got considerable bottom. If I’d been tied up like that for two hours I’d have been screaming for my mammy. You can have the courage of a lion in your heart, but if you’ve got no power, courage won’t do you any good and it will eat at your innards instead.”

Murdoch felt a rush of gratitude to the man, but it was himself he had to forgive. “Well? Do you have any ideas you’d consider sharing about what I just said?”

Green hesitated, then pursed his lips. “The reference to the holy one could be significant to us. In the old days, in the Baptist Church we often called our preachers Holy, especially if they weren’t lettered but had God in them. You know like, Jeremiah Holy, or Mariah Holy. You don’t hear it as much these days because the preachers go to school and are educated. I suppose you’d say holy was an honorary title.”

“Do you know anybody, anybody at all, who might have been referred to that way?”

Elijah nodded. “Come to think of it, I do. He used to be the pastor of our church before Pastor Laing came. I think he was lettered as well, but he was such a good man, people often called him, Preacher Archer, Holy.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes, he is. He’s elderly now, and his mind isn’t always clear, but he might be worth talking to. He would certainly have known
Thom Talbert from the early days. He lives in the manse next to the church with his wife.”

Murdoch heard the raspy voice in his ear.
We have one more to find.
He hoped to God he would get there first.

He tried out his legs again. Better this time. His muscles were tingling and burning, but he thought he’d suffered no lasting damage except to his pride. Green had got him up to scratch. He almost grinned. He’d forever have sympathy with fighters after this.

Green caught hold of his arm. “Is the preacher in danger?”

“I don’t know, but he’s the only possibility at the moment. I’ve got to get over there.”

“I’ll come with you. He’s one of us. And forgive me for saying so, Mr. Murdoch, but you’d have trouble apprehending a three-legged dog at the moment.”

Murdoch could see it would be a waste of time to argue and he also needed him. “Come on, then.”

CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO

I
t was Green’s suggestion that they borrow one of the carriages and drive to the church. Murdoch accepted the offer gratefully, and while Elijah was hitching up the horse, he limped into the office and telephoned the station. He was relieved to hear Charlie Seymour’s voice. Briefly he filled him in as to what had happened and reassured him that he was all right.