For the first mile as they rode out, Sedgwick complained. The Constable had expected it, a list of objections about the animal, the saddle and stirrups, even the feeling of being on a horse. He listened patiently, knowing it would trail away in time.
‘Why are we going to see the Gibtons again?’ the deputy asked finally.
‘Too many unanswered questions,’ Nottingham told him. ‘I’ve let this Sarah Godlove business drag on too long. There’s something very wrong with the Gibtons. I’m going to push them and see what happens. I want you with me since we’re dealing with people of quality.’ He uttered the words in a cutting, sardonic tone.
A full five minutes passed before Sedgwick spoke again.
‘Boss?’
‘What, John?’
‘Is there any chance of more money?’
‘More money for what?’ He suspected he knew the reason but he wanted to be certain.
‘For me,’ the deputy said hesitantly. ‘It’s just that with the baby coming we’d like to be able to afford somewhere bigger.’
Nottingham turned in the saddle. Sedgwick looked ill at ease.
‘I think I can manage that. It won’t be much, mind, but a little more each week. Would that help?’
Sedgwick grinned widely, and for a moment he looked just like a young boy who’d been given an unexpected treat.
‘Thank you, boss. Lizzie’ll be happy now.’
‘You’d better keep her sweet. You’re going to be with her for a long time.’
‘I bloody well hope I am,’ the deputy said.
‘She’s a good lass. She’s certainly got the measure of you, no mistake.’
They left their horses tied in the shade of a tree, panting and wanting water. Nottingham knocked on the large front door and waited until it was answered by a maid, different from the one he’d seen last time.
‘You’re new?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir.’ She coloured and gave a full curtsey. ‘It’s my first day, sir.’
‘What happened to the other girl?’
‘The master let her go, sir.’ The blush on her face grew deeper.
He smiled at her, but wondered why the other girl had been dismissed and whether it had anything to do with him.
‘I’d like to speak to Lord Gibton. I’m the Constable of Leeds.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She scurried away, glancing nervously over her shoulder several times, a questioning look in her eyes.
Within a minute Gibton was striding down the hall. This time he was wearing clothes made for a country man, but certainly not for work; the material was fine, the riding boots lovingly polished to a high shine. His mouth was set, eyes hard.
‘What do you need now, Constable?’ he asked dismissively.
‘Some more questions, sir.’
Gibton stood and waited. ‘Well?’
Nottingham smiled and inclined his head. ‘Perhaps we should go in the drawing room, sir.’
The man snorted but agreed.
‘Can my man go and get some water for the horses while we talk?’
Gibton gave a curt nod. ‘Go round to the kitchen,’ he instructed.
The Constable raised his eyebrows at Sedgwick, then followed the baron.
‘Now, what is it? I don’t have time to keep talking to you.’ He was standing by the fireplace, the portrait of him and his wife over his head. The picture caught the man’s arrogance well, Nottingham thought, the haughty, upturned jaw, the innate, unquestioning sense of superiority. There was no trace of the grace, the goodness and looks they’d had when younger.
‘When your daughter had intended to visit that last time, I gather you sent the servants away.’
The baron gave a small grunt. ‘I knew that girl must have talked to you.’
‘Is that why you dismissed her?’
‘Not really,’ Gibton said casually. ‘She wasn’t good at her job. There’s no point in paying servants who won’t do the job properly.’
‘But she did tell me the truth?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted reluctantly.
‘You didn’t mention that before, my Lord,’ Nottingham said impatiently. ‘I’m looking into a murder. The murder of your own daughter. That means I need the truth, and all of it, please, however painful it might be.’
Gibton waited a moment before answering. ‘Would it have made any difference, Constable? It’s a very private, delicate matter. And I told you, Sarah never arrived here.’
Nottingham said nothing, but stared at Gibton. Outside, the rooks cawed loudly in the trees. Finally the man gave in and shook his head.
‘When my wife has an episode it can sometimes be easier with no one else around. She can become very difficult.’
The Constable sensed how much it had pained him to make that admission, especially to a social inferior.
‘And how bad was this attack?’
‘Very bad indeed,’ he answered gravely. ‘It was the worst she’s ever been, in fact, and that’s in many years. That’s why I needed to send the servants away for a few days. As soon as I could see what was happening and how severe it was likely to become I told them to go. I didn’t want them seeing her like that. They’d have lost all their respect for her.’ He said it as if that was the most important thing in the world.
‘What happens to her?’ Nottingham asked.
Gibton looked at him, and the Constable guessed he was assessing how much to reveal. Finally he shrugged.
‘My wife has never had the easiest of tempers,’ he began. ‘She doesn’t suffer fools well. But with one of these episodes it usually begins with a bad headache, so bad she has to take to her bed. Then she’ll become loud and sometimes she’ll be violent.’
‘Violent?’ Nottingham hadn’t expected that.
‘Yes. She lashes out. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she doesn’t remember it afterwards. She’s hit me before and she’s very strong then, she’s out of control. So perhaps now you see why I told the servants to leave.’
‘How do you treat it?’
‘I’ve learned over the years. I’ve had doctors in.’ He sighed in resignation and for a moment looked like a lost, ordinary man. ‘Nothing they’ve given her has helped. About the only thing I can do is tie her to her bed when it happens.’
‘I’m sorry,’ the Constable told him.
The baron raised his head, and for a passing moment Nottingham could see all the years of pain in his eyes. Then Gibton gathered himself, straightening his back.
‘I’m trusting that none of this will go beyond these walls,’ he said.
‘You have my word,’ Nottingham promised. ‘How long does an episode last?’
‘Sometimes an hour or two, sometimes longer. This last time it was a full day. She didn’t recall a thing.’ He paused, considering. ‘Maybe that’s a blessing.’
‘How is she when it’s over?’
‘She sleeps for hours and when she wakes up it’s as if nothing had happened. It just takes her some time to come back to herself.’
The Constable walked over to the windows and looked outside. The day was still, the sun shining and peaceful, but inside the house the atmosphere was gloom and darkness, and always would be.
‘Where’s your wife now?’ he asked.
‘She’s in her room,’ Gibton said.
‘I’d like to see her, if I might.’
‘I don’t think-’ he began, but Nottingham was shaking his head.
‘You have to understand, my Lord, anyone can say anything. I’m not doubting your word, but I need your wife to confirm it.’
The man tightened his mouth then agreed.
‘I’ll have the girl call her,’ he said, and left the room.
Nottingham returned to the window and sighed. What he’d heard had been heartfelt and sad. But he knew it wasn’t the complete truth.
There was enough of it in there to try to keep him off the scent. But Gibton was hiding something, and it was more than just embarrassment and pain at his wife’s madness.
And madness was certainly what it sounded like. It bore out all the tales about the woman. He sighed, not relishing the idea of meeting her but knowing it was necessary. Through the glass he could see Sedgwick ambling lazily towards the stables. He tapped on the window. When the deputy looked his way, he tilted his head questioningly and received a nod in return. Nottingham smiled.