The Witch Hunter's Tale(88)

“It was Agnes Greenbury!” Martha cried. “She had Mr. Breary killed!”

“It was not so simple,” I replied. “They said that James Hooke was pining for Agnes Greenbury. They had seen him waiting outside her window, just hoping to catch a glimpse of her face. He was in love with her.”

“It was James?” Martha considered the idea. Her face lit up when the pieces fell into place. “As soon as Joseph mentioned his name, Rebecca clouted him with the candlestick.”

“Aye,” I said. “That was when I solved the puzzle. Perhaps James saw George as his rival and killed him for it. Perhaps Agnes demanded it of him. We may never know, but it explains everything.”

“Could Rebecca have demanded he do it?” Martha asked. “Mr. Breary was her enemy as well. He intended to remove her as the city’s Searcher and put you in that position. She could never allow that.”

“She is certainly capable of doing such a thing,” I said.

“Joseph must have recognized James’s guilt,” Martha continued. “And that is why Rebecca turned against him. To save her son.”

Martha and I stood in the doorway and watched as the Aldermen and their followers drifted out. Soon enough Rebecca and her footman stepped through the door and started walking toward her home in St. Michael’s parish. Martha and I fell in behind her. When we were safely away from the Council Hall I called her name. Rebecca and her man stopped and waited for us to approach.

“We must speak,” I said.

Rebecca understood the tone in my voice. “Wait at the corner,” she told her man. He bowed and disappeared into the shadows. “What is it?”

I saw no reason to mince my words. “Your son murdered George Breary.”

“Another murder accusation?” Rebecca asked. “You have done this before, and it did you no good. Must we put on the same old play?”

“George was my friend,” I said. “Your son killed him, and I must know why.”

“Why?” A harsh laugh escaped Rebecca’s throat. “Who knows with such a blockish boy? Sometimes, Bridget, I think you were lucky to lose your children so young. They never reached an age when they could disappoint you.”

“You pushed him to do it,” Martha said. “Mr. Breary was going to rob you of your power, and you would not have it.”

Rebecca laughed again. “And you think I would send James on such a mission? Have you met him? I cannot send him for a loaf of bread without something going wrong, let alone to murder a grown man. No, it was his doing.”

“He did it to protect you,” I said.

“I wish that were the case,” Rebecca replied. “At least there would be some sense to that. No, he did it for that whore.”

“Agnes Greenbury,” I said. “He thought that if George were dead, she might turn her attention to him.”

“Perhaps that is why,” Rebecca replied, shaking her head in despair. “Or perhaps she convinced him to do it so she could be rid of that old goat. Whatever the case, the matter is near its end.”

“How did Joseph find out that James killed Mr. Breary?” I asked. “That is why you decided to betray him, isn’t it?”

When Rebecca smiled, her teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “My fool of a son went to Mr. Hodgson and announced that he’d done it. He hoped that Joseph would offer him a reward for ridding him of so troublesome a man.”

“And you couldn’t let that stand,” Martha said.

“I might as well have tied a noose around my own neck and handed the loose end to Joseph,” she replied. “I cannot allow anyone to have such an advantage over me. No, once James confessed his crime I had no choice but to act against Joseph.”

“Joseph can still accuse him of the murder,” I pointed out. “Even through broken teeth.”

“And who will listen to an accused witch?” Rebecca paused for a moment. “But you make a good point. Perhaps I’ll speak to the Lord Mayor and add Mr. Breary’s murder to the charges against Joseph. Just to be sure.” Rebecca nodded in satisfaction, leaving no doubt that she intended to do exactly that.

“I will see you at Joseph’s trial,” she said with a cold smile. “It should be a first-rate spectacle.”

* * *

The week that followed Joseph’s arrest passed with the pace and pain of a difficult birth. I did my best to think of other matters, but I could never draw my mind away from Will, Tree, and Elizabeth. Soon we received word from Samuel Short that Will and Tree, along with Stephen Daniels, had been sent to the Castle. Thanks to their escape from Ouse Bridge gaol, the Warden decreed that they would have no visitors, but Samuel had seen them when they arrived, and he said that all seemed in good health. I offered a prayer of thanks and sent enough blankets and food to keep them and their jailors more than comfortable. Of Elizabeth, we knew less, and it was this that kept me awake until the early morning hours. We knew that Joseph had sent her to live with a poor widow but, in an act of pure malice, he refused to say who it was, or if she even lived in the city.