Inspector Abberline and the Gods of Rome

by Simon Clark

  ‘That’s absurd. Lie down, girl.’

  ‘But what if you were looking at your fingertips and all of a sudden human lips budded there, and they all opened up at once into little mouths, and began to sing a song? You’d go mad, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Hush your nonsense.’ Miss Groom hung a nightdress over the back of a chair. ‘There’s a fresh one for when you wake up.’

  ‘What I’m saying is serious. Just imagine if seeing into the future has such an effect on my mind that it makes me act strangely.’

  ‘The drug should be working by now. Are you sure you drank it all?’

  Laura went to the window. Down there in the sunlight, a pair of men stood by the stable block. She’d seen the young man before. He was now in the company of another gent who had a moustache and sideburns – this man was older than the other man. They were deep in conversation.

  ‘Who are those gentlemen, Miss Groom?’

  ‘That’s none of your business, Laura. Climb into bed, girl, chop-chop.’

  ‘I’ve seen them before. I had one of my visions of the future and I saw them. They’re not safe here.’

  ‘Laura—’

  Laura pounded on the window pane. ‘Up here! Listen to me! You’re in danger!’

  That was the moment the drug flooded her senses. Brilliant colours burst from the walls. The sky turned red – red as blood – as if the heart of the universe had been torn open.

  CHAPTER 21

  ‘What on earth goes on in this place?’ Abberline asked, looking up at the attic window.

  A girl in a white nightdress pounded on the glass, while shouting in a panicky, frightened way. Thomas couldn’t make out the meaning of her cries from this distance.

  ‘That’s the maidservant who is ill with her nerves.’

  ‘The poor girl.’

  Thomas told the detective about the boy from the village; how he leapt onto the carriage, and the dramatic intervention by the soldiers.

  Thomas said, ‘Her name is Laura. She is the girl I told you about who insists she is cursed with visions of the future. I saw her leaning out of the window last night. She shouted down to me that I was in danger and must leave at once.’

  ‘I hope they are giving her medical care.’

  ‘William Denby’s personal physician is attending to her. I’m sure all is in hand.’

  Thomas watched as an older woman drew the unfortunate maid back from the window. Within moments, the screams fell silent. Thomas found himself full of pity for the girl. He couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel if his fiancée became stricken by madness. A condition that warped a person’s thoughts in such a ghastly way would seem like demonic possession.

  Abberline had been thinking along similar lines. ‘Two hundred years ago they would have declared that the girl had the devil inside her. They’d have burned her at the stake.’

  They strolled through the gardens for a while. Abberline gazed at the mountains, though clearly he was mulling over the Denby case.

  He said, ‘William is the last brother to be in charge of one of the family’s country estates.’

  ‘Surely there is still Victor Denby at Fairfax Manor?’

  ‘Gone to France. Boarded a ferry yesterday. Scotland Yard telegraphed to say that he’d taken himself off to a secret address.’

  ‘He fears for his life.’

  ‘As I fear for William Denby’s.’ Abberline thoughtfully stroked his moustache. ‘The killer’s available prey has been reduced to one.’

  Thomas nodded greetings at soldiers who patrolled the grounds. ‘At least the man is guarded well. Or rather his work is guarded well, which perhaps amounts to the same thing.’

  ‘Unless we catch our suspect it will only be a matter of time before William Denby is taken, too. We are dealing with a cunning and ruthless assassin.’

  They strolled along a series of archways formed by basketwork on which climbing plants grew.

  ‘This will be astonishing in summer,’ Abberline murmured. ‘Imagine the clematis blooms forming a fragrant tunnel. It would be like a passage to wonderland.’

  Thomas decided to ask Inspector Abberline to elaborate on something he’d said earlier. ‘You mentioned that Joshua Denby might unlock this mystery?’

  ‘His corpse might do so.’

  ‘You suspect foul play?’

  ‘The other Denby fatalities were judged to be accidental. However, we now suspect otherwise.’

  ‘I learnt from a gardener that Joshua fell sick in the summer and died in the winter.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘What if he did suffer from some illness, but an intruder suffocated him in his sleep?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘One word answers, Inspector. You’re hiding what you really think.’

  ‘Speculation can be entertaining, yet it’s hardly likely to bring definitive proof.’

  ‘You plan to disinter the man’s body?’

  ‘We must, Thomas, we must.’

  ‘He’s been three years in the tomb.’

  ‘Viewing the corpse is essential. If I my suspicions are correct, I only have to look into its face.’

  Thomas chuckled, although it was such a grim chuckle. ‘You don’t claim to have supernatural insight, do you?’

  ‘What? Like the poor, unfortunate girl in the attic?’ Abberline paused to smell blossom on a bush. ‘No, oh no … we are definitely in the realm of science, not the world of witchcraft.’ Regretfully, he released his hold on the blossom. Its fragrance masked some of the more pungent realities of life. ‘Do you know how to use a camera?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Because it’s important that we have a forensically accurate record of what we find in the coffin. I need you to photograph the corpse the instant the lid is removed.’

  ‘Blast it all!’ the colonel thundered. ‘Get those two men away from here!’

  The man’s face turned from pink to fiery red as he glared at Thomas and Abberline in fury. Colonel Brampton stood on the lawn beside a structure some five feet in height, which resembled a cage made from lengths of bamboo. The cage contained a number of glittering cylinders, while extending from the bamboo framework were dozens of thin ropes that formed a neat spider’s web pattern on the ground.

  Colonel Brampton yelled at a soldier, ‘Remove those two men from here immediately!’

  William Denby sat cross-legged on the ground nearby. He’d been examining drawings on a sheet of paper.

  Inspector Abberline walked swiftly toward Brampton. He didn’t seem at all perturbed by the man erupting with anger.

  Thomas recognized the cylindrical objects in the bamboo cage. These were war rockets of a type that had been developed by William Hale. In those two-foot-long tubes, gunpowder would have been tightly packed. When ignited, the gunpowder burned at a furious rate, flinging the rocket 2000 yards or more into the faces of the enemy. Each rocket contained an explosive warhead, highly effective at killing both men and cavalry horses. Thomas immediately made the connection between the bamboo frame, containing the rockets, and William Denby’s development of the military airship. The blustering, redfaced Colonel Brampton obviously intended to use a balloon to carry the rocket launcher high above the Earth where it could be tested as a weapon of war.

  Brampton now appeared more than ready to wage war here on the ground. Furiously, he strode toward Abberline with the intention of blocking the man’s way.

  The officer bellowed, ‘There was a guard standing on that path. How did you get past him?’

  Abberline spoke softly in comparison. ‘I introduced myself and explained that I had to speak with Mr Denby regarding an urgent matter.’

  ‘I am engaged in military research, which is top secret!’

  ‘And I, Colonel, am investigating the murder of that gentleman’s brothers.’ Abberline nodded in the direction of William Denby who climbed to his feet.

  ‘This is hardly the place or the time to discuss that with him now.’ Brampton
turned to the soldier and barked, ‘Take these gentlemen back to the house. Now!’

  ‘No, Colonel.’ Abberline continued to speak calmly. ‘I need a word with Mr Denby. There is something he should know, and it will not wait.’

  ‘I am Colonel Brampton. I am in charge here.’

  ‘You’ve met Mr Lloyd, I gather. My name is Abberline.’

  ‘Of Scotland Yard. Yes, I know.’

  ‘So, Colonel … will you grant me a few moments alone with Mr Denby?’

  ‘Our work is of national importance. Time is of the essence.’

  ‘Then shall we joust?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ The colonel was so surprised by this comment that his eyes goggled. ‘Joust? What the devil do you mean?’

  ‘Joust.’ A twinkle appeared in Abberline’s eye; he knew his comment had knocked the soldier off balance, metaphorically speaking. ‘Jousting is what knights did in olden times, isn’t it? They rode at one another on horseback and tried to unseat their opponent with a lance.’

  ‘Great God in Heaven! You’re a senior detective and you talk in riddles.’

  ‘We will joust.’ Abberline produced a letter from his pocket. ‘Instead of being armed with lances, we are armed with the weapons of our authority. You have the authority of your generals; I have the authority of the Home Secretary.’

  Brampton’s eyes fixed on the letter. He read the first few lines then stared in astonishment at the signature at the bottom. ‘The Home Secretary?’ The man almost stammered the words.

  ‘I have the authority to go wherever I please here in order to investigate my case. Of course, you may telegraph your commanding officer should you wish to dispute anything contained in the Home Secretary’s letter.’

  Brampton clicked his tongue. ‘That won’t be necessary. Here. Take back your letter … go where you wish.’

  Thomas could almost hear the Colonel thinking: Go to hell, too, whilst you’re about it.

  Abberline approached William Denby and Thomas quickly made the introductions as the men shook hands.

  William’s eyes twinkled. When they were out of earshot of Brampton he said, ‘Not many men stand up to the fiery Colonel Brampton, even fewer get the better of him. You’ve done both, Inspector.’

  ‘I spoke the truth, Mr Denby. We must move quickly, because there is a dangerous assassin out there.’

  ‘You have my absolute co-operation, Inspector. But, please, call me William. Thomas is, of course, on first name terms with me.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you for several days, Inspector. The last I heard you were investigating my brother’s death in Scotland.’

  ‘Your brother appears to have been slain by a marksman, so I realized that I should come here as quickly as possible. There is no doubt in my mind whatsoever, that you are in danger.’

  ‘Thank you for taking my safety so seriously.’

  Abberline said, ‘I’ve spoken in such plain terms about the danger, because there isn’t time to dress this up in polite phrases. Even as we stand here now, there might be a man aiming a rifle at you.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘To continue my plain-speaking, I have to reveal something which will be distressing and painful to you.’

  ‘By all means, speak plainly. I welcome your directness.’

  ‘Your late brother, Joshua Denby.’

  ‘What of him?’

  ‘I need to examine his body.’

  ‘That’s not possible.’ Shock flitted across William’s face. ‘He was buried three years ago.’

  ‘Nevertheless, the physical remains must be examined. I need to make urgent arrangements to exhume the body. There is a distinct possibility your brother was murdered.’

  Inspector Abberline suggested that they speak somewhere private. Abberline asked if Thomas could be present, too. William had no objection, and soon they were sitting in the drawing room’s comfortable armchairs, with sunlight spilling in through tall windows. Abberline dispensed with small-talk and got down to the matter in hand. He explained how Sir Alfred had died. How an ingeniously rigged pistol inside a cupboard had detonated gunpowder, leading to Sir Alfred being killed in what the coroner mistakenly judged to be an accident. Abberline also outlined the facts surrounding the death of William’s brother in Scotland. Without a shadow of doubt, murder: a concealed gunman had fired a bullet into the heart of Thaddeus Denby. When William asked questions Abberline answered as conscientiously and as thoroughly as he could.

  When William asked if there were any suspects Abberline said, ‘Thomas chased an intruder at Fairfax Manor. The individual had been watching us there, and had attacked two men. We don’t have a great deal of information about the suspect, other than he is a man of about forty years of age, and that he wore a distinctive yellow coat. Possibly he is from overseas; a witness revealed that he had a strong foreign accent.’

  The butler brought in a tray, bearing cups and a teapot. William waited until the man withdrew before saying, ‘You told me, Inspector, that you need to unearth my brother, Joshua.’

  ‘What I find in the grave could be vital to solving this case.’

  ‘I understand, although I find the notion distressing. The buried should remain buried.’

  Abberline nodded. ‘However, it is necessary, William, absolutely necessary.’

  Thomas noticed the sadness in William’s eyes. The man appeared to be remembering another tragic death and another funeral. This melancholy subject of graves no doubt summoned the raw grief of his daughter’s passing and her funeral. Perhaps Thomas was cursed with having too-vivid an imagination, yet he absolutely believed that William saw himself holding his 16 year-old daughter as her lips turned from pink to blue and her eyes grew dull. Thomas tried to dispel morbid images of the girl’s funeral. Or imagining the silence of the tomb … the eternal nothingness …

  William took a deep breath. ‘Yes, of course, you must do as you think fit, Inspector. I will ask the colonel for the loan of some of his men. They will open the grave on your command.’

  ‘Thank you, but exhumation of the dead involves an elaborate legal process. I must obtain an order of exhumation from the authorities. The opening of the grave and the lifting of the coffin has, by law, to be carried out as early in the morning as possible, which will probably mean during the hours of darkness. This is to avoid the exhumation becoming a ghoulish spectacle for passers-by. Also, Thomas will be present with a camera. It’s essential that he photograph the body the instant the coffin lid is raised.’

  ‘I see.’ William grimaced as if a foul taste oozed across his tongue. ‘Will you need to bring my brother’s remains here?’

  ‘A secure outbuilding is more than adequate. Then a doctor will conduct a detailed examination.’

  ‘Dear God, this is macabre.’ William’s hand shook as he picked up a tea cup. ‘Damned macabre. We’ve become grave robbers.’

  ‘You, yourself, needn’t be present at the exhumation,’ Abberline said. ‘The process will be conducted with absolute respect. As soon as the examination is complete, your brother will be laid to rest again.’

  William took a swallow of tea. ‘I have every faith in you, Inspector. Newspapers talk of your compassion and integrity. When you were in pursuit of that devil, Jack the Ripper, you didn’t go home after your day’s work; you walked Whitechapel’s streets, guarding women from the butcher.’ William shook off his air of gloom. ‘I’ll have a room made up for you. Do you require anything else?’

  ‘May I have the use of an office? And a blackboard and easel?’

  ‘Of course.’ William pulled a velvet cord by the fireplace. Down-stairs, a bell would ring to summon the butler. ‘Goodness, I’m the only Denby brother in charge of a country estate now. A sobering thought.’

  Abberline sipped his tea. ‘You know that your brother, Victor, has left for France?’

  ‘He telegraphed me this morning. The man is scared for his life. I can’t blame him for deciding
that a dignified retreat is preferable to waiting for the assassin’s bullet.’

  Thomas asked, ‘There are several other country estates owned by the Denby family; who will oversee them now?’

  ‘My eldest brother, Hubert, before leaving for Africa, stipulated that a Land Agent be appointed to manage estate properties if there were an insufficient number of siblings to do the job. Though I suspect those big country houses will lie empty until a new tenant comes along.’

  The butler glided into the room. William gave instructions to prepare a guest bedroom for Abberline, and to find a suitable room that would serve as an office. While the tea things were cleared away, and William spoke to his butler, Thomas stood beside Abberline at the window. Abberline’s sharp eyes swept the line of trees at the forest’s edge. Thomas half-expected to glimpse the flash of a yellow coat. All he did see emerging from the forest was a horse, drawing a cart piled with logs.

  Thomas murmured, ‘No sign of the God Thief yet.’

  ‘God Thief?’ Abberline smiled. ‘You gave our suspect a name?’

  ‘He did steal a carved god from the workshop.’

  ‘Ha. Then we’ll refer to our suspect as the God Thief until we have his real name. Hmm, now that you’ve mentioned the carvings it’s probably timely to acquaint our host with another facet of this case.’

  Abberline waited until the butler withdrew before telling William about the secret pagan shrine devoted to Roman gods, and that apparently Sir Alfred had worshipped there, and had made offerings of food and wine.

  William was stunned. He slumped down into an armchair, shaking his head as he did so. ‘Good God.’ He attempted to smile, but horror shone from his eyes. ‘Or perhaps I should exclaim “By Jove”. After all, he was chief of the gods, as it were.’

  ‘It must be bizarre to learn that your brother prayed to pagan idols,’ Abberline said.

  ‘Did he go mad?’

  ‘I suspect he was involved with stealing the golden statues known as the Gods of Rome. For some reason, he began to fear that the Roman Gods had the power to punish him for the theft. He tried to appease them.’

  This revelation hit William. ‘My brother was eccentric, but this? It’s blasphemous.’