when Will failed to return for his tea, you went to Mr. Abbott, is that correct?â Lamb asked.
âYes. I knew that Will was to trim some hedges for him.â
She recited for them the narrative of her fetching Abbott and the two of them heading up the hill to the hedge to find Will. Her story fit with Abbottâs. Lamb found it interesting that Lydia exhibited no strong emotion as she described breaking down upon seeing her uncleâs mutilated body. Perhaps she had cried herself out for the moment. Perhaps, too, her earlier tears hadnât been genuine.
âDid Mr. Abbott attempt to remove the tools from your uncleâs body?â Lamb asked.
Lydia wrung the handkerchief. âYes, he did, sir.â She looked at Lamb. âFor my sake,â she added woodenly. âI was just so shocked, you see.â
âHow would you describe your relationship with Mr. Abbott?â
Lydia sat up straighter and smoothed her dress over her legs. Wallace and Rivers exchanged quick, knowing glances. âMy relationship, sir?â Lydia asked.
âYes,â Lamb said. âDid the two of you know each other well? Had you ever taken tea with him, perhaps? Or danced with him? Did he ever write you a letter or give you a gift? Did you fancy him? Did he fancy you?â
Lydia looked askance. âNo, sirânothing like that.â
Now Wallace piped in. âSo Mr. Abbott never made any advances toward you, Miss Blackwell? Never tried to have his way with you?â
Lydia smoothed her dress againâroughly this timeâand looked directly at Wallace. Her eyes flared, indignant. âNo, sir,â she said. â
Nothing
like that. Mr. Abbott has always been a gentleman to me.â
Her expression hardened, and Lamb sensed for the first time that she was afraid.
âSeveral people have mentioned to us that some in the village believed Will to be a witch,â Lamb said. âThat heâd once seen a black dog on the hill and that heâd since been mixed up in some way with the black arts.â
âThose are
lies
, sir,â Lydia said, looking directly at Lamb. âWill was no witch. Those are hateful people who think that way.â
Lamb withdrew from his pocket the note heâd found on Blackwellâs body and showed it to Lydia. âDoes this look like Willâs handwriting?â
Lydia looked at the note:
in the nut
. âYes. Thatâs Willâs writing.â
âI found this note in the pocket of your uncleâs jacket,â Lamb said. âDo you have any idea what it might mean?â
Lydia shook her head. âNo, sir.â
âMr. Abbott told us of a boy who sometimes visited Willâa boy from Lord Pembrokeâs manor who canât speak,â Lamb said. âDo you know this boy?â
âYes, sir. That is Peter.â
âCan you tell me anything about Peter? How long has Will known him?â
âHe draws thingsâbugs and that. He likes to watch Will work. But heâs soft in the head; he donât speak.â
âDo you know if Will was supposed to see Peter today?â
âPeter just shows up, like.â
âDo you know if Will had any disagreements with Peter, especially recently?â
âI donât know, sir.â
âDoes Peter strike you as a strong boyâsomeone who could overpower Will if heâd a mind to?â
âYes, sir. Heâs skinnyâlanky, likeâbut tall.â
âHave you ever seen Peter get angry?â
Lydia mulled the question. âJust the once. I looked out the window and he was in the front there, stomping around. Will was out there and I think Will might have said something to make Peter mad.â
âDid you ask your uncle what he might have done to make Peter angry?â
âNo, sir. It werenât my business.â
âWhen was this?â
âLast summer.â
Lamb was dying for a fag. He and the other two still had
Major Dick Winters, Colonel Cole C. Kingseed