The Lights of London (36 page)

‘Don’t look very much like the Bible them mission lot go on about outside the pub,’ sniggered Tibs, as she spotted a group of kneeling, semi-naked, masked men, who were chanting an incantation, beseeching the Great
God Pan to join them. ‘More like a flaming orgy if you ask me.’

‘I think I’d like to go home,’ Kitty said, her voice betraying the fact that she was on the verge of tears. ‘Please, Dr Tressing.’

Tressing ignored her. Grabbing them both by the upper arm, he pulled them roughly over to a circle of men, who were sitting round a low table, throwing dice and laughing raucously.

‘Oi, watch it!’ snapped Tibs, as he let her go. She rubbed her flesh where his fingers had dug in. ‘That bleed’n’ hurt.’

Still Tressing acted as though he hadn’t heard a word. He pushed Kitty forward.

‘Gentlemen of the Circle, here is my chosen goddess for the rituals. She will be known as Cyrees. She will keep company only with me, but this handmaiden’ – he dragged Tibs forward – ‘will gladly make her favours available.’

‘Bloody handmaiden? Favours? Cheeky bleeder,’ Tibs whispered from the corner of her mouth. ‘Why ain’t I a sodding goddess?’

‘Tibs. I don’t like this.’ Kitty stared, saucer-eyed, at the leering men. ‘What does he mean by
company
?’

Tibs never got the chance to lie about what she thought he meant, because Tressing suddenly announced, ‘I will now introduce Cyrees to the others.’ With that he whisked Kitty away, while one of the gamblers swung Tibs round and plonked her unceremoniously on his knee. ‘Come and bring me luck, my little handmaiden, and I’ll see you are rewarded.’

Tibs smiled happily to herself, this was more like it. She could earn herself a good few quid from these mugs and if they kept drinking at this rate she wouldn’t have to do too much in return. She just hoped Kitty would be
all right. She twisted round to see what was happening to her, but just as she saw Tressing pushing her into a curtained alcove, the man pulled Tibs back round by her hair and covered her mouth with his.

‘This ain’t so bad, is it, Bug?’ Teezer poured himself another measure from the half-bottle of rum that the landlord had so kindly given them – Jack had learned about keeping good customers happy – and grinned at the scantily clad young woman on the stage, who was doing eye-poppingly athletic things with her body. ‘In fact, I find it rather entertaining.’ He elbowed Buggy in the ribs and winked. ‘No wonder the newspapers are getting themselves all worked up over the Naughty Nineties, eh, kidder?’

Jack too stared at the stage. He supposed the girl was diverting. Very, when he came to think of it. He’d certainly caught on how to be a bit more discriminating in the acts he booked, and since Sweet and Dandy had taken off he’d been able to afford them as well. But he had no interest in the show tonight, even though one or two of the turns had made it clear they would be more than willing to oblige him for a few extra bookings and a bit of a bonus as the girls were away. He hadn’t even been tempted, not only because Tess was upstairs like a spare part at a wedding, but because what Jack wanted was to have Kitty here with him and he was finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything much at all except what Dr Bartholomew Tressing might be up to with her.

All he could console himself with was the thought that soon he’d be in a position to pay him off and get rid of the mad-eyed old debaucher. And it couldn’t be soon enough.

‘Glad I decided to take up your invitation, old man.’ Lucian Mayerton sipped his champagne and glanced about him as he jiggled Tibs up and down on his knee and rubbed her leg absent-mindedly through the flimsy material of her costume, as though she was no more than a lapdog that he was stroking. ‘Bit livelier than you’d led me to believe though.’

‘I … I never understood from the lectures I attended,’ spluttered Hunton, his eyes bulging as they followed the rhythmic movements of Mayerton’s hand, ‘that Tressing’s Occultist Circle was quite so …’

‘Don’t worry, Hunton,’ Mayerton said, transferring one hand to Tibs’s breast, as he leaned forward to throw the dice with the other, ‘I won’t go blabbing to Lavinia. If you promise not to say anything to Marjorie.’

Cameron Hunton knocked back the rest of his drink and took another from a passing servant girl. He nibbled his lip, hesitated for a brief moment and slapped her hard on the bottom.

The serving girl momentarily winced, then smiled seductively and thanked him for his attentions. Tibs took the opportunity to snatch a drink for herself, which she swallowed in a single gulp, but unused to champagne, she almost choked on the bubbles.

‘One thing that does concern me,’ Hunton continued, ignoring Tibs’s coughing and spluttering as though she wasn’t there, ‘is Tressing’s apparent taste for mixing with rather low women. That’s a sure way to,’ he lowered his voice, ‘contract some of the more, let us say, unpleasant conditions.’

Mayerton laughed heartily, clapped Hunton on the shoulder and ran his other hand under Tibs’s dress, right up to the top of her naked thigh. ‘Too late for that, old boy.’ He grinned.

Tibs wriggled away, not sure how much more of this
she was game for without knowing how much he was prepared to stump up for the privilege. But his hand merely became more insistent.

Hunton frowned. ‘Not sure I follow you.’

Mayerton laughed again, amused by Hunton’s innocence – he wasn’t used to fellow professionals being so naive. Still, he was only a physician. It was the sawbones, such as himself and Tressing, who were the real men of the world.

‘Remember we had that little discussion about – now how can I put this delicately? – Tressing’s mental state?’

The other man shifted uncomfortably. Talking about a colleague’s personal life wasn’t really on, but he had to own up to a certain curiosity about the man. ‘Yes,’ he admitted slowly, pushing the dice towards him. ‘Your throw.’

‘Well, what d’you think killed his wife and children?’ Mayerton’s free hand had now found its way down Tibs’s bodice and he fiddled with her nipple as though he were fine tuning a dial on a piece of hospital equipment.

Tibs said nothing, she didn’t even squirm this time. She wanted to hear what this bloke had to say as much as his mate did.

‘I don’t know, but didn’t his daughter die in some strange sort of circumstances?’ He moved closer and said behind the cover of his hand, ‘Killed herself, according to some rumours.’

‘The circumstances, my dear Lucian, were stranger than you think. She killed herself in a police cell.’

‘
She did what
?’

‘She’d been driven mad by …’ he dropped his voice so that his companion could barely hear, ‘syphilis.’

‘Never!’

‘I’m telling you. The whole family had it. Passed on by … Well, you know by whom. The youngest, a boy, had it at birth. Died horribly by all accounts. That’s what drove the wife from reason.’

‘Shocking!’

Tibs thought the same.
Syphilis
… She had to get away. Get to Kitty.

She tried moving, but the man grabbed harder at her breast. She bit her lip to stop herself crying out. ‘Can I just go to the …’

‘No more shocking than that daughter of his dying in front of a young constable in the East End,’ Mayerton went on, completely ignoring her, as he did all servants and employees except his valet. ‘At a police station near the docks, apparently. I knew the chap who was acting Police Surgeon at the time. Jackson. A decent sort. Based with us at the London Hospital. He was called in to, let us say, verify matters concerning the likelihood that the girl could have been capable of committing certain acts.’

‘Acts?’ Hunton couldn’t disguise the prurient tone of his question.

‘Acts that, at the time, were associated with a beast rather than a young lady.’

‘I don’t …’

‘It was about ten years ago now.’

Hunton still didn’t follow.

‘The Whitechapel murders.’

‘You mean the Ripper
?’

He nodded. ‘And in his opinion she was capable, in that she had midwifery skills and, more convincingly, that she was completely mad. The syphilis had got to her too.’

‘How?’

‘It isn’t only slum dwellers who couple with their families.’

Hunton’s hand flew to his face in horror, knocking his mask completely skew-whiff.

Mayerton paused for a long moment, rubbing and pulling more urgently at Tibs’s breast, as he remembered some of the more bizarre rumours that had over the years been associated with Dr Bartholomew Tressing, and while Hunton wished he’d never heard of the man or his damned Eastern Occultist Circle.

‘Terrible business,’ Mayerton said eventually. ‘Terrible. I saw the so-called death certificate. Signed by Tressing himself, if you please. I know for a fact that he was ready to commit the girl. Jackson went to the trouble of seeking out the least dreadful place to send her, but even the private places …’ He shook his head. ‘She was at least saved from that.’ He paused again, before adding darkly, ‘She knew too much, if you ask me.’

He swallowed the remains of his drink and snorted with incredulity. ‘You might not believe this, but Tressing was a leading light in the Anti-Vice League at the time – while he was visiting every kind of whore in every corner of London. Mind you, you’ve heard the stories that that particular habit is on the wane. What with the amount of, let us say,
medicine
he takes nowadays, he apparently finds it rather more difficult to perform. If you ask me, one of the reasons he set up this little society was a way of seeking new thrills in the hope that it might, er …’ He coughed politely. ‘Let us say,
stimulate
his jaded appetites.’

‘How did it not become public?’

‘Tressing has quite a gift for being untouched by scandal. An example. At the same time as the Ripper business was happening in Whitechapel you’ll remember there was that body-buying business going on.’

‘I was actually still doing my time in Africa.’

‘Of course. Well, the police investigating the murders uncovered it. It was based at the hospital. Ruined some of our colleagues, but despite what everyone believed about his involvement, Tressing came out of it untouched. Not only that, while the police were rounding up his friends he was over in America collecting an award for his services to surgery. He seems to have spent quite a lot of time over there during the past fifteen years or so. Every time there’s any trouble, in fact. Quite remarkable.’

‘How can you bear to be near the man?’

Mayerton smiled coldly. ‘He amuses me.’ Then, without a word, he shoved Tibs off his lap and on to the floor, pulled up her costume, pushed her over on to her knees and straddled her. ‘Now for the handmaiden’s reward.’ He laughed, thrusting himself into her.

‘Seems funny without the girls around,’ said Jack, putting the cash box on the counter and looking at the photographs of Tibs and Kitty that he had put up behind the bar. ‘I’ve got used to them being about the place.’

Archie leaned on his broom and glanced at the clock. The pub had been closed for nearly a quarter of an hour. ‘What time are you expecting them back then?’

Jack shrugged as he carried on piling the evening’s takings into neat stacks. ‘I don’t know how long these things go on. I’ve never been to a ball.’

‘Me neither,’ said Archie. ‘And I don’t suppose I ever will.’

‘Not our sort of thing, eh, Arch?’

‘No.’

‘Fancy a drink?’

‘I’ll pour them, boss.’ Archie eased his way past Rex, who was snoring quietly by the brass foot rail, and
took two glasses from the shelf. ‘Beer or a short?’

‘Hang on a minute, Arch.’ Jack held up his hand and then, muttering under his breath, he recounted the piles of money. He looked up and grinned. ‘A short, please, Arch, and make it a double. I think I’ve got something to celebrate.’

Jack tapped his glass against Archie’s and smiled happily to himself. At this rate he would soon be able to settle everything; he already had enough for Tess and soon he’d have no debts, no dues, no Tressing. The Old Black Dog would be his, just his.

And maybe, if his luck kept in, Kitty would be his as well.

Kitty hardly dared to breathe, terrified that any movement would wake Tressing, even though he was lying on his back with his mouth open, snoring like a pig. But she so wanted to move his arm, it was stretched across her middle and just the touch of it was making her feel sick. Carefully, she lifted the corner of the heavy drape shielding the alcove and peered out into the gloom, praying silently that Tibs would be coming to find her.

But it was no good, Tibs wasn’t coming.

With tears gathering in her eyes, Kitty let the curtain fall.

‘Another one, boss?’ Archie pointed to Jack’s empty glass.

Jack considered for a moment. ‘No thanks, lad,’ he said, scooping all the money back into the cash box. ‘I’ve got a bit of business I need to sort out upstairs. But you help yourself. And maybe call up to me if you hear the girls come in.’

Mayerton moaned to himself and rolled off Tibs, leaving her lying on her back, with her dress rucked up around her waist.

She could almost have kissed him with relief; not only had he finished with her at last, but, after what she’d overhead, Tibs was desperate to find her friend.

Rising unsteadily to her feet, she pulled her clothes down to cover herself. ‘I’m going for a piddle,’ she blurted out, and before Mayerton had a chance to object made a dash for the alcove.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back the curtain with a single tug, ready to scratch Tressing’s eyes out if necessary, but when she saw he was lying there sound asleep her heart sank. She was too late. He’d already had Kitty. Doing her best to smile reassuringly, Tibs lifted Tressing’s arm so she could sit up.

As her friend helped her down from the divan, Kitty started sobbing.

‘Ssshh, it’s all right, love. Don’t let’s disturb him, eh? Come on, we’ll get you off home so’s you can have a nice wash and a good night’s kip.’ She took Kitty firmly by the hand and led her across the room. ‘Tell me,’ she said, almost casually. ‘What happened?’

‘He was smoking some stuff in this water pipe thing and then he started …’ Kitty lowered her voice as they pushed past a writhing heap of bodies, ‘touching me. He put his hand right …’ She closed her eyes and shuddered. ‘But then he just fell asleep. I’m so glad you came for me before he woke up. I couldn’t have stood it if he’d done anything else to me.’