The Wicked Trade (The Forensic Genealogist Book 7) Nathan Goodwin (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📖

finally loaded, and he zoomed into the farm adjacent to the church. There, among several properties, he found one labelled, ‘Braemar Cottage.’ The garden was long and widened out like a fan from the back of the house. He saw what looked from his bird’s-eye view to be a greenhouse. Then there was a children’s trampoline and a pair of thin wooden sheds. He punched the air with delight when he saw, at the far end of the property, some kind of an outhouse. He centred the building and pushed in closer to it. It appeared to have a tiled roof, which pitched in the centre.

He might just have found the end of the rainbow.

‘Blueberries!’ he yelled with delight, just as the front door slammed shut and Katie entered the lounge.

‘What about blueberries?’ she asked, tossing her handbag onto the sofa beside him.

‘A kind of berry harvested from the bogs of New England,’ Phil revealed.

‘Isn’t it cranberries?’ Katie asked, flashing a look at the television, receiving confirmation of her answer.

Phil picked up the remote control and switched off the television. He closed the lid of the laptop and stood up. ‘Can I borrow your car?’

‘When?’

‘Now.’

‘No, I’m going back out. I’ve got another shift in an hour’s time. I’m only home to pick Kyle up from afterschool club. I need you to babysit this evening.’

‘You’re joking me?’ Phil exclaimed.

Katie shook her head. ‘That was part of the deal of you staying here rent-free that you did some babysitting.’

‘Okay,’ he mumbled, not really in a position to argue. It did not actually have to be tonight, but he was so close that he could not help feeling disappointed.

The rainbow’s end would have to wait a bit longer.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Morton was sitting at the desk in his study, a low amber glow from his lamp lighting the room. Today had been Jack, Laura and George’s final full day and, since the weather had been favourable, they had spent it together, using the miniature railway to explore the Kentish coastal towns of Hythe, New Romney and Dymchurch. Morton had taken several opportunities in the day to talk with George, but each attempt had felt as painfully difficult and strained as speaking to someone with little grasp of the English language. Still, he had enjoyed spending time with Jack and Laura and filling in the backstory of their past lives. Since they would be leaving early tomorrow morning, they had all taken an early night, and Morton had used the opportunity to retreat to his study to work on the Fothergill Case.

Having reviewed all the photographs taken at the National Archives, Morton had printed the key documents, which he was now analysing for any content which might give further clues as to Ann Fothergill’s connection to the Aldington Gang. He came to the letter written to the Admiralty by the captain of the Ramillies, Hugh Pigot, shortly after the arrests, and read it again: ‘18th October 1826. Sir, With reference to my letter of the 30th July last detailing the particulars of the murder of Richard Morgan, first-rate quartermaster, I have the honour to inform you that warrants having been obtained against the parties implicated – the same were entrusted to the execution of Lieutenant Samuel Hellard superintending the Right Division assisted by Jonas Blackwood and Thomas Nightingale, officers from Bow Street – and now have the pleasure in communicating to you the successful arrest of George Ransley and nine of his gang. I cannot abstain from congratulating you upon these men’s work, particularly when it is considered that the leader of this ruffian band has defied the whole Civil Power of the county for the last six years. I am most anxious to impress upon your mind my unqualified opinion of the energy, zeal and address and indefatigable exertion upon the present and upon all occasions of these three men. I further beg leave to acquaint you that the tender to this ship, Antelope will proceed immediately to Deptford with the prisoners beforementioned, accompanied by Messrs Blackwood and Nightingale in order to their being disposed of as the case may require. I have the honour to be, Sir, your most obedient, humble servant, Captain Hugh Pigot.’

Morton studied the letter for a moment longer, before moving on to the next significant letter from Pigot to the Admiralty: ‘24th October 1826. Sir, with reference to the attack on the parties of the Coast Blockade, by armed parties of smugglers, and the murder of Richard Morgan, first rate quartermaster, I do myself the honour to acquaint you, for the information of my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty that, following the investigations of Mr Blackwood, the Bow Street officer, a person named Samuel Banister has had several interviews with Lieutenant Hellard, superintending the Right Division of the Blockade, and offered to give information as to the persons actually engaged in the outrages in question. I most respectfully submit for consideration, that their Lordships may be pleased to authorise their solicitor to send for, and examine Samuel Banister and take such measures as shall be found expedient on any information this man may give. I have authorised the aforesaid Samuel Banister to be supplied with a small sum of money for subsistence, until their Lordships pleasure is known. I most respectfully hope that they may be pleased to direct their solicitor to discharge the same. I have the honour to be, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, Captain Hugh Pigot.’

It had taken the Bow Street officer, Jonas Blackwood, little more than two months of investigation to track down Samuel Banister, who had willingly, it seemed, given evidence against his fellow smugglers. But why? The implication, towards the end of the letter, was that the reason had been financial. If Samuel had needed money for subsistence, then receiving the reward pay-out for the conviction of the other smugglers would have been