Authors: Andrew Pepper

Tags: #Jamaica, #Murder, #England, #Sugar Plantations, #London (England), #Mystery & Detective, #Prostitutes, #Crimes Against, #Fiction, #General, #Investigation, #Historical, #London, #Crime

Kill-Devil and Water (17 page)

BOOK: Kill-Devil and Water

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NINE

At five o’clock that afternoon, Pyke presented himself to one of the uniformed clerks inside the ‘A’ Division building in Whitehall and was led immediately up the stone steps to an airy, high-ceilinged room on the first floor where Fitzroy Tilling, Sir Richard Mayne, Benedict Pierce and, as it turned out, William Alefounder were all waiting for him.

They couldn’t have heard about the fire at the West India Dock already. Anyway, his landlady had told him that the note from Tilling, summoning him to this meeting, had been delivered to his garret some time that morning.

They barely looked up as he crossed the room to the only available chair, as though his presence were an irritation that had to be tolerated. Tilling ignored Pyke entirely. Pierce sat between Tilling and Alefounder with his arms folded. All of them were facing Mayne, the commissioner, their chairs arranged in a semicircle around his desk, as if they needed to be reminded who was in charge.

‘Gentlemen, perhaps we could make a start,’ Mayne said, glancing down at his watch and then in Pyke’s direction for the first time. ‘I believe we all know each other so I’ll dispense with the formalities.’ He turned to Pyke. ‘I thank you for coming, sir, and I shouldn’t need to add that you’ve been invited as a courtesy, a goodwill gesture, in the hope that we can resolve whatever differences exist between us and put an end to all the nonsense.’

Mayne was a suave, distinguished man in his middle forties, with a full head of dark hair, a pair of mutton-chop sideburns, a lantern jaw, and a patrician air that suggested he didn’t suffer fools gladly.

‘I don’t want anything from you.’ Pyke cast a quick glance at Tilling. ‘I just want to be left alone.’

‘Left alone to peddle these ridiculous stories in that rag of a newspaper?’ Mayne shot a stern look at Tilling. ‘Look, Fitzroy made a mistake contracting your services but at the time our resources were being pulled in a different direction. That said, having discussed you at length with Sir Robert Peel earlier today, I can understand why Fitzroy turned to you. To my surprise, Sir Robert made a compelling case in your defence. So now I want to put it all behind us and press ahead with the important business of finding out who killed this woman. And I want to reassure you that we are more than able to conduct the investigation ourselves.’

For now it was all smiles and kind words, but if Pyke persisted in his current course of action, he was sure the smiles would disappear.

‘I’m listening.’

‘Splendid,’ Mayne said, directing his remarks at Tilling. ‘You see? We’ve made progress already.’ When Tilling didn’t answer, Mayne continued, ‘I’m sorry to say an unfortunate incident was reported to me yesterday. It seems you made some rather wild, and entirely unfounded, accusations against Mr Alefounder and I want to put an end to that as well.

‘And that’s why you’ve summoned Alefounder to your office, to interrogate him?’

‘
Mr
Alefounder came of his own accord, as soon as he’d learned from you that a crime had been committed, but no one will be
interrogating
him, as you so colourfully put it.’

‘So you want to reassure me about Alefounder’s good character ...’

‘Indeed,’ Mayne said carefully, trying to work out whether Pyke was mocking him. ‘And warn you about the very severe consequences, should you continue to pester him or, for that matter, besmirch his good name in the press.’

‘If he’s as innocent as you claim he is, what reason would I have for trying to besmirch his name?’

Mayne looked at Alefounder and offered a reassuring smile. ‘I have it on impeccable authority that Mr Alefounder’s character is second to none.’

‘Then perhaps you could tell me why he knowingly lied to me yesterday in his office in front of a room full of witnesses?’

That took the wind out of the commissioner’s sails. ‘Eh?’ It was as though he hadn’t actually heard what Pyke had just said.

‘Yesterday he told me he’d never set eyes on Mary Edgar. But then I found out that he went in person to meet her ship when it arrived at the West India Dock on the twenty-fourth of April. He even argued with her on the quayside in front of the whole crew.’

Mayne’s stare was opaque. He wetted his lips and looked across at William Alefounder. ‘This man isn’t a suspect. What he may or may not have told you yesterday has no bearing on the murder investigation.’

This time Pyke addressed Alefounder directly. ‘You knew Mary Edgar well enough to meet her ship and argue with her in public. That makes you a suspect, irrespective of whether you lied to me or not.’

But it was Mayne who answered. ‘I want to make something quite clear, Pyke. We have questioned Mr Alefounder at length about his involvement in this matter and we are perfectly happy to rule him out as a suspect. That is all you need to know.’

‘Where did you go after you left the docks?’ Pyke said to Alefounder, ignoring Mayne’s warning. He knew he was pushing his luck but he simply didn’t care.

‘I’ve said all I’m going to say to these gentlemen,’ Alefounder said, pointing at Pierce and Mayne. He didn’t seem to be including Tilling in this coterie, and Pyke wondered what this said about Tilling’s status as a result of the piece in the
Examiner.

‘One way or another I’ll find out why you lied to me, Alefounder.’

‘Didn’t I make myself clear?’ Mayne interrupted. ‘This man doesn’t have to answer or justify himself in any way to you; I’ll ask you to refrain from making threatening remarks as well.’

‘It stinks that you’re absolving him of any responsibility in this matter just because he’s wealthy and has connections.’

‘
That’s it
,’ Mayne said, looking at Tilling. ‘Get this man out of here and escort him from the building.’

Tilling gave Mayne a look that said:
I told you so
. Alefounder said nothing and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

Outside, in the corridor, Pyke felt a tug on his arm, and turned around. Fitzroy Tilling’s face was as tight as a drum. ‘Bravo, Pyke, I thought you handled yourself with enormous tact.’

‘Alefounder lied and he’s been given a pat on the back. If he was poor or a valet, he’d be rotting in prison by now.’

‘I can’t make sense of you. You’ve spent most of your life cheating and swindling to fatten your own purse and yet you despise people who have money.’

‘I don’t hate people with money. But when I see a man like Alefounder dismiss the murder of a poor, black woman as though it doesn’t even merit his consideration, I want to drive a stake through his heart.’

‘And that’s normal? God, Pyke, can’t you see how much your anger blinds you to the truth?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? Alefounder escapes censure or interrogation just because of who he knows.’

‘Do you think you’re the only one who cares about Mary Edgar?’ The blood had risen in Tilling’s face.

‘Forgive me if I don’t think Mayne and the others took her death quite as seriously as they did that of a murdered aristocrat.’

‘By others you mean me?’

‘What do you want me to say? Bedford is murdered. Within hours of his corpse being discovered, fifty men have been assigned to find his killer.’

‘You still don’t understand, do you?’

‘Understand what?’

‘I could have assigned twenty men to investigate Mary Edgar’s murder but I thought of you because I could see you needed help.’ Tilling shook his head. ‘I even arranged for your early release from prison, and how do you go about repaying me?’

‘But that’s exactly my point. It wouldn’t have happened if she’d been rich and white. You wouldn’t have been allowed.’

‘I made a decision to employ you without consulting my superiors. Now that decision has come back to bite me. Perhaps it
was
my fault, but now they’re baying for your scalp. I can’t help that.’

‘So I should roll over and die like a whipped dog?’

Tilling turned to walk away but hesitated at the last moment. ‘I used to think I knew you; that I knew who you were and what you stood for. And in spite of some of the things you did I respected you, too. Now I look at you and all I can see is a man on the verge of drowning. I want to help, but I don’t know how. I throw you a line and you throw it straight back in my face.’

It was Tilling’s pity more than his anger which cut the deepest.

‘It wasn’t your gift to give. If it was, how could Mayne snatch it away from me so easily?’

Tilling shook his head. ‘This isn’t about Mary Edgar or wanting to find whoever killed her. You just want to make us look bad.’

‘Can’t you simply accept I might want to do something ...
good
?’ He couldn’t find a better word and stared at Tilling, not knowing what else to say.

‘When it comes down to it, Pyke, you’re a selfish creature. You are now and you always have been. If you were honest about it, I might be able to forgive you. But you’re doing what you’ve always done: constructing a spurious morality to fit the circumstances you find yourself in.’

Pyke could feel his pent-up anger burning the tips of his ears. Tilling was already walking away from him along the corridor, his heels clipping in a tight-lipped fury. Then Pyke was alone in an unfamiliar building, and more than anything he wanted to run to the nearest apothecary and lose himself in a tincture of syrupy laudanum.

‘I’m worried about him, Pyke. I think you should be, too.’ Godfrey stood at the window of his apartment. It was the following afternoon and Felix was talking with an older, scruffily dressed boy below them on the street.

‘Then you shouldn’t encourage him to read things he’s not ready for.’ Pyke turned to face his uncle. ‘I never wanted you to write that damned book in the first place. I certainly never expected that my own son would read it.’

Godfrey reddened slightly. ‘I’m not his father, Pyke. It’s not my responsibility to tell him what he should and shouldn’t be reading.’

Pyke bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Apology accepted.’ Godfrey paused. ‘Did you know that he was caught playing truant from school today?’

‘That’s probably my fault. I ambushed him and Jo yesterday morning on their way to school and persuaded them to accompany me to the zoological gardens.’

Pyke had joined his uncle at the window. He watched his son with a mixture of pride and consternation, amazed at how tall he had grown and how different he looked. Older, almost a man.

‘For a while he hardly left his room. Now he’s taken to spending more and more time outdoors.’

Pyke studied the lad Felix was talking to. It looked as though they were deep in conversation. ‘Do you know who the older boy is?’

Godfrey pushed his spectacles up his nose and frowned. ‘Never seen him before.’

‘I know you mean well,’ Pyke said, ‘and I don’t mind the lad pouring over the
Newgate Calendar
, but could you please make sure that he doesn’t read another word of
Confessions
?’

‘Point taken, dear boy.’ Godfrey cleared his throat. ‘But if you were to find somewhere large enough for you, Jo and Felix to live, you wouldn’t have to worry about the lad finding something morally degrading here in my apartment.’

Pyke had no answer to that, so he turned and went outside. As he walked down the steps, Felix looked at him. The older boy did, too, and then ambled across the street in the direction of Camden Place.

‘Is he a friend?’

Felix stared down at his boots. ‘I just met him.’

‘What were you talking about?’

‘Just things.’

Pyke looked at the older boy, who’d turned around and was grinning. ‘I don’t want you to talk to him again.’

‘He admired my coat.’

‘I said I don’t want you to see him again. Is that understood?’

BOOK: Kill-Devil and Water

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