3_2

“Where the bloody hell is Mill Farm?” Bailey swore as he pulled his collar up around his neck
“It’s not so far from here” de Hogue replied. “About a mile and half out of the village”.
Bailey looked down the road in the direction de Hogue was pointing. For as far as he could see, the road stretched off to disappear amongst the verdant trees, and everything was lashed by the down pour.
“God! What a weather” he cursed. “Let’s go and get a drink eh?”
De Hogue nodded and they passed back across the street to the Old George.
Inside the public house, a small crowd of men had gathered to shelter from the rain, and from the back room came the sound of a fiddle. Ignoring the looks of the men, they passed through the room to return to the small alcove where they had eaten their breakfast. Here they sat in relative peace, although with his back to the wall, de Hogue could still see the group of men at the bar. Bailey threw off his coat and walked over to stand by the fire. He picked up the poker and prodded it a few times, then stood letting the flames warm the backs of his legs.
The barmaid had seen them, but she made no move to come over. Finally de Hogue, unable to catch her eye, shouted across the room to her. A moment of silence followed his voice, but passed quickly. The fishermen muttered amongst themselves with many a dark glance thrown in his direction, but shortly the bar maid brought over two tankards of beer and set them on the table before him. As she turned to leave, de Hogue spoke arresting her attention.
“Excuse me Miss, but do you know either Miss Annie Sheppard or Miss Molly Archer?”
She twitched her head and frowned, “I’m Molly Archer. What do you want?”
Bailey, hearing this, stepped closer and examined her face. “You’re Molly Archer? Is that what you said?”
“Aye?” she replied with impatience, “And what’s it to you?”
“We need to ask you some questions about Mary Coleman.”
Molly Archer nodded curtly and although she replied calmly, her face held a look of extreme distaste. “What do you want to know?”
“When was the last time you saw her?” de Hogue asked.
“Last Sunday, in church.”
Not a church going man, Bailey scribbled this down in his little note pad with casual disinterest.
“And did you speak with her at all?”
“Aye, we spoke briefly outside the church.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nought much. Just hello and how are you.”
Again, Bailey nodded, but here he caught de Hogue’s eye, and the two men exchanged a knowing look. Molly Archer was obviously lying.
“Did she mention where she might be going after church at all?” Bailey continued. “Did she mention any names?”
Miss Archer shook her head.
“She didn’t say anything at all about going to meet any one?”
“No.”
“Not Nicholas Sedgwick?”
“No.” Molly Archer replied with a level voice, but her eyes showed a sudden flare of anger. Bailey saw it and smiled slightly, further infuriating the bar maid. But to her surprise he merely thanked her for her time and when she realised he was finished asking her questions she rose uncertainly to her feet and turned to leave.
“There was one thing” she said, almost as in after thought.
“Yes?” Bailey asked.
“She wanted to leave this damned island. She said so. She wanted to go to London.”
Bailey raised his eye brows, “Why London?”
“Where else could she go?” Molly Archer sneered.
“Can you tell us where Miss Sheppard lives?” de Hogue interjected.
“Ask her brother” the red haired young woman nodded to the group of men at the bar and left them.
“Well well…” Bailey turned his attention to his beer. “Your health sir!”
De Hogue lifted his own drink in return, “And confusion to Boney.”
“Aye, I’ll drink to that!” Bailey smiled. “Confusion to Boney.”
They both took a long hard pull at their drinks, then sat back, opposite each other, staring at the table.
“She must have gone to bed early, with the idea of sneaking out to visit her young fella” Bailey spoke first.
Yes. But that still doesn’t tell us very much. Mill Farm is on the southern side of the island and we found her on the north. From the time she was last seen by her Father, to the time we saw her on the mud flats; she had to have been in the water only for the course of a single tide. I don’t think she could have been carried right around the island in such a short space of time.”
Bailey, already nodding, opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment there came the shout of “Ship ahoy” from outside, and the attention of the people in the inn shifted. Bailey leaned over and opened the window to peer outside.
“What is it?” de Hogue asked.
“It’s a ship alright” Bailey replied.
“Let me see” de Hogue nudged Bailey aside and looked out into the rain where a sloop had moored just beyond the harbour. From her mast hung the limp Swedish colours, and coming down her side into a long boat was a man carrying a bag.
“She looks like a privateer” he remarked. “She’s lowered a boat by the looks of it.”
Bailey drew on his wet coat with an uncomfortable look, then turned and walked over to the door where the group of men from the bar had gathered.
“Which one of you is Annie Sheppard’s brother?” he asked in a loud voice.
They all turned to regard him in surprise and one of the tallest took a step closer. Bailey, despite the sudden proximity of the taller man, simply looked him in the eye and said; “I have to go and see to that boat, but you be here when I get back. I want a word with you.”
The younger man scowled and made as if to reply, but Bailey was already pushing past him and his friends with brash insolence.
“What do you want?” the man finally called out.
Bailey, already out in the rain, called over shoulder. “You just wait there for me!”
The man began to grumble and curse, but as he turned back to the bar he met with de Hogue’s eyes as the Admiralty man followed Bailey out into the rain.De Hogue said nothing, but the young fisherman stepped aside and let him pass. De Hogue was much bigger and muscular than any of them, and his eyes held the steady confidence of a fighting experience.