Murder at Newstead Abbey by Joan Smith Page A

Willy’s glass is empty again. I swear the man’s a sponge.” She left and brought the sponge another glass of ale, then returned to Coffen’s table and sat down.
    “How long ago was it that Vulch’s wife left him?” he asked.
    She frowned a moment, then said, “It must be over four years ago now.”
    And Nessie disappeared about four years ago. “Did he go after her?”
    “He’d never say so — too proud — but he did leave the neighborhood before long. She took off just after Mayday, I mind. Then a few months later, he decided to try his luck in London. He didn’t stay long. He was back early the next year.”
    So he was in London that November when Nessie ran off! “Was he here when the Richardsons came from Jamaica?”
    She puckered her brow and after a moment said, “No, they came in mid-autumn. I had just started here at the Green Man when the Richardsons came. I was sort of wishing I’d waited and tried for a job at the Hall. Vulch didn’t show up till the winter, or he’d have been here with the harvesters. They drink like fish. Vulch never drinks hisself under the table like some of them. Why are you so interested in old Vulch? You don’t want to have much to do with him. A nasty temper he has.”
    “That’s what I heard. He offered me a game of cards.”
    “I’d not sit down at cards with the likes of him.”
    Three farmers came in and Tess rose to welcome them. Coffen sat nursing his ale while he brooded over what he had learned. Vulch came home a few months after the Richardsons arrived. The time was just about right for Nessie to have found out what a mistake she’d made in joining up with him and made good her escape. She might have left London, Vulch followed her, killed her, and decided not to go back to London. He wouldn’t have been fool enough to bring her home, where she’d learn he was married. And as far as Coffen could see, he hadn’t a hope of proving it — unless he could get into Vulch’s shack and find a clue. Maybe some piece of clothing or jewelry belonging to Nessie. Lady Richardson would recognize her things. Not likely Vulch would have kept the clothes, but jewelry — that was a possibility. He wouldn’t throw it away and he’d be afraid to try to sell it locally.
    He could find out from Lady Richardson if the girl had any special piece of jewelry she always wore, a locket or ring or some such thing. Before he left, he asked Tess one more question. “Are you expecting Vulch tonight?”
    “He said he’d see me tonight.” She rolled her eyes in dismay. “Lucky me!”
    Coffen pressed a coin into her hand and said, “Don’t tell him I was asking about him. He might take it amiss.”
    She peered at the coin, smiled and said, “Mum’s the word, Mr. Pattle.” Then she directed a long, searching gaze at him and added, “Do you ask this many questions about all the men you sit down to cards with?”
    “No, just some of them," he replied so blandly that Tess hardly knew what to make of it.
    Coffen posted back to the abbey to find Luten and Corinne just stabling their mounts. “It was so cold we cut our ride short,” Corinne explained, rubbing her gloved hands to restore circulation. “Where were you, Coffen?”
    Luten said, “To judge by his smile, he’s been out searching for clues. What have you discovered, Pattle?”
    “I’ll tell you inside. I’m perishing here. Where did you two go?”
    “I was showing Luten the spot in the spinney where Byron was shot at yesterday,” Corinne said.
    “Anyone take a shot at you?”
    “No.”
    “Find any clues?”
    “We think we found where the man was waiting,” Luten said. “We went into the spinney in the direction the shot came from. The grass was well tramped down there, as if someone had been waiting a while.”
    “That don’t sound like a poacher!”
    “No, it don’t,” Luten agreed. Corinne smiled. Luten was usually very correct in his grammar. It was the young bucks who favored those