The Mermaid in the Basement

by Gilbert, Morris

  FOURTEEN

  I just can’t do it!”

  Serafina, with a violent motion, slammed the cover of the notebook shut, and for a moment sat there staring at it as if it were some sort of dangerous item. The sunlight streamed in from the window on one side of her bedroom. Ordinarily she took pleasure in the room, for she had spent many hours here at the small desk. Now, however, her lips were drawn into a tight line. She closed her eyes wearily and leaned back in the leather-covered chair. “It’s just too hard for me!” she whispered.

  A streak of frustration ran along her nerves, for she had always liked a challenge, and the journal, the secret cypher, that Kate Fairfield had used was indeed a challenge. She realised that this frustration was because her brother’s life might well depend upon it. It was not like a problem in mathematics or an experiment in chemistry. She took pleasure in those things, but now the fear that had been lurking in her ever since Clive’s arrest seemed to swell and rise to her throat.

  She rose quickly and began to pace the floor. As she did, a strange thought came to her, one she had never had before. It must be nice and convenient to believe in prayer as Dylan does.

  The thought brought with it an image of Dylan Tremayne, and she was confused at her thoughts, for she realised that Tremayne had impacted her in a way that troubled her. She did not analyse it, but actually she had built up a wall against admitting anyone into her intimate fellowship. But since the tragedy had struck their house, Dylan had come into her life, and she realised that he had come to play a much larger part in her thoughts than she liked. She stared out at the green grass and the flowers in the yard, but thoughts of Dylan would not leave her. “I can’t be a fool,” she whispered. “He’s everything that I’m not.”

  A tap at the door broke into her thoughts, and Louisa came in. “The two policemen who were here before, ma’am, they’re here again.”

  “What do they want?”

  “Please, ma’am, they want to see you.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  “I didn’t know exactly where you’d want them, so I put them in the study.”

  “Thank you, Louisa. I’ll come down.” Serafina was aware that Louisa was intimidated by the policemen, and straightening her shoulders, she was determined to show no sign of weakness before the two men. Leaving her room, she walked down the hall and then descended to the ground floor. She made her way toward the study and found Winters and Grant standing in the centre of the room.

  “Good afternoon, Superintendent, and you, Inspector Grant.”

  She saw that the two men exchanged an odd glance that troubled her, then Winters said, “I’m sorry to have to trouble you,Viscountess, but it was necessary that we have a word.”

  “Of course.Won’t you sit down?”

  “No, we’ll not be here that long,”Winters said. He looked handsome as he stood there—tall, well built, his eaglelike features highlighted by his icy blue eyes. No, icy was not the word. They were not cold, but bright and alert. He wore expensive clothes, far more expensive than a policeman would usually wear, and Serafina noted again the large diamond ring on his right hand. Grant, the smaller man, was also watching her cautiously.

  “I’m afraid we have come on rather unpleasant business,” Winters said. He shifted his weight for one moment and seemed to search for the right words.

  “What is it, Superintendent?”

  Winters nodded as if coming to some final decision and spoke in clipped tones. “I’m afraid we’re here on official business.”

  “Does it have something to do with Clive?”

  “Only indirectly.We’ve had a complaint from Sir William Dowding concerning the visit you and Tremayne made to his house.”

  A small alarm went off in Serafina’s mind. She was not frightened but totally alert. “What did he say, sir?”

  “He said that you as much as accused him of murdering Katherine Fairfield.”

  “That’s not true, Superintendent. We asked him questions about some items that were troubling us.”

  “I felt this was important enough to come and warn you about.

  When a policeman comes into someone’s house,” he said with a slight grimace, “they automatically go on the defensive. That’s natural enough, I suppose.We very rarely bring good news.”Winters hesitated, then said, “I don’t think he’s going to bring any legal action against you, but Inspector Grant and I felt we needed to come by and warn you that this investigation that you and Tremayne seem to be determined to pursue can have unpleasant consequences.”

  “Exactly what are you telling me, Superintendent?” Serafina asked.

  Her voice was steady, and her eyes even more so as she faced the two men.

  She saw that Grant was watching her steadily, and she felt that she could not like the man much.He had a manner that seemed to be close to arrogance, but he kept silent as Winters continued.

  “When people are in difficulties such as you and your family have been thrust into, they often make rash mistakes. I realise, of course, that your entire family is disturbed, but you can’t run around accusing respectable citizens. We’ve already discovered that Sir William was at home at the time the murder was committed.”

  “And who told you that, Superintendent?”

  “His valet.”Winters immediately saw the disbelief on Serafina’s face. “He’s a respectable enough servant.He’s not likely to lie about such a thing. Let us handle this matter, Viscountess. You’re too emotionally involved.”

  “The man had an affair with the murdered woman.”

  “So did several other men, as you probably have discovered by now,” Grant said. “But it’s not against the law for a man to have an affair with a woman, and that’s all the evidence you have.”

  A hot reply leapt to Serafina’s lips, but she choked it off, saying merely, “I will take what you say under advisement, gentlemen, and I thank you for coming.”

  Winters smiled briefly. “I can see you’re set on this thing,Viscountess, and I can only warn you again that it could be dangerous. If you did discover the murderer, he would be likely to turn on you.”

  “I’m not afraid of that.”

  “I’m sure you aren’t.You’re a strong woman, but there’s another matter to consider, and that is that you may disturb evidence that we at the Yard need. You may give away something to the killer that would cause him to hide his trail even more cleverly.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t promise you that I will stop looking for the man who killed Kate Fairfield. My brother’s life is in the balance, and I will not stop until I have found the true murderer.”

  A silence seemed to fill the room, and the two men watched Serafina for a moment. Then Winters sighed and shook his head. “I feared this would be your attitude.We have no charges, of course. This is just in the nature of a warning. I hope you will listen to reason, Viscountess. Come along, Grant.”

  Serafina stepped aside, and the two men left, neither giving her a backward glance. She heard the front door close, then almost at once Dora came running in. She must have been waiting outside in the hallway. Her eyes were wide, and she said in an agitated tone, “What did they want, Serafina?”

  “There’s nothing to fear, Dora. Don’t be troubled.”

  “How can I not be?” Dora said. She bit her lower lip in a nervous gesture that Serafina knew well from her childhood. “Did they come to give bad news about Clive?”

  “Not at all. It was about another matter entirely. A minor thing.”

  Dora watched her older sister anxiously, and seeing no sign of trouble in Serafina’s expression, she said, “I’m so glad.”

  “What have you got planned today, Dora?” Serafina asked. She went over and stood next to her sister and thought about how vulnerable she was, how she had always been that way. She was growing into a fine young woman, but still there was a dependency in her that Serafina saw and rather admired. Serafina had always been strong willed, and no one would ever call her vulner
able, but there was a quality of sweetness, of gentleness in Dora that made Serafina love her deeply, perhaps because she felt that somewhere along the way she had lost these qualities.

  “I’m going to visit Clive,” Dora said. “I’ve had Nessa make him some of his favourite dishes, and I’m going to take him some books.”

  “That’s very good, Dora. You tell Clive that I’ll be in to see him later on.” She hesitated, then added, “That jail is a very depressing place. Are you sure you feel up to this?”

  “Oh yes,” Dora said quickly. “I don’t mind it.”

  Serafina watched as Dora left the study, then returned to her room. She sat down before Kate’s journal, opened it, and stared at the peculiar combination of numbers.“There’s got to be an answer here somewhere that will save Clive,” she muttered between clenched teeth.“There just has to be!”

  For one moment Dora hesitated, looking up at the cold, grey stone that composed the city’s jail. She looked at the heavily barred windows in the front and had to push herself to continue. She mounted the steps, and upon entering the building noticed an odor that nearly sickened her. She had never smelled anything like it before, and she knew that Clive must be sickened by it as well. He had always been fastidious about such things.

  A guard sat at a table reading the newspaper, and Dora walked over and said, “Please, I’d like to see my brother.”

  The guard, a burly man with beetling brows and muddy brown eyes, slapped the paper down and put his hand over it as if to keep it from walking away. “Wot’s ’is name?”

  “Clive Newton.”

  The guard’s eyes half closed, and he said, “This ain’t the regular visiting hours.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Dora cried. “I didn’t know there was a regular time.”

  The burly guard stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged his beefy shoulders. “I’ll make an exception, but next time you’ll ’ave to come when it’s regular.”

  “Oh, I will,” Dora said quickly.

  “And I ’ave to look into those sacks.”

  “That will be all right.” She watched as the guard examined the contents of the two sacks and was relieved when he said, “This way, then. I’ll take you to ’im.”

  Dora followed the guard through a door and saw that the corridor led between two rows of cells. The stench here was almost unbearable, but she steeled herself against it.

  “’E’s up on the second floor. This way, miss.”

  The guard’s boots clanged on the steel steps as he ascended, and when they got to the top floor, they met another guard there. “Woman ’ere wants to see Newton, Billy.”

  “It ain’t regular visiting hours.”

  “Do you tell me that? Don’t you think I know the rules? We’ll make an exception this once. Take ’er to ’er brother.”

  The guard named Billy was as thin as the first guard was thick. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Come on, then,” to Dora. She followed him down the hallways, frightened by the feral expressions on the faces of the prisoners. Many of them were in cells with no windows whatsoever, and they stared at her as she walked by.

  “You got a visitor, Newton.”

  The guard pulled the ring of keys from his belt, fitted one of them into the lock, and slung it open. “You sing out when you’re ready to go.”

  “Thank you,” Dora whispered. She stepped inside, and Clive came toward her.

  “Dora!” It broke Dora’s heart to see how he had changed. He had always been a happy-go-lucky, cheerful young man, but now his face was strained and his eyes seemed sunken into his head. She was carrying the bundles, and when he came to her, he put his arms around her and held her with the bundles between them. “I’m so glad to see you, Dora!”

  Dora felt tears sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. She determined to be cheerful on her visit, and she said, “Here, you’ll muss up the goodies I’ve brought to you.”

  Clive stepped back, and she saw that he was wearing clean clothes and was glad of that. The cell itself was spotlessly clean, and she saw a table for the parcels. “Come and see what I brought you.”

  Clive came to stand beside her as she unpacked the items from the sacks. “A kidney pie just like you always liked and a whole sackful of fairy cakes.” She named off the items as she lifted them out and then said, “I also brought you a new book by Mr. Dickens. Everyone says it’s very amusing.”

  “Thank you, Dora.” Clive was standing there, and she noted that he had lost weight. She could see it in the hollow places in his cheeks and in how his clothes seemed to hang on him in a way that he never would have allowed when he had been free.

  “I wish I could make you some tea, but you can eat something.”

  “All right.” Clive sat down on the cot and watched as Dora busied herself fixing a plate for him. She talked cheerfully, but he saw the sorrow that was in her eyes, and when she came over and handed him the plate, he pulled her down on the cot. “Sit down beside me while I eat and tell me what you’ve been doing and how the family all are.”

  Dora felt a lump in her throat, but she put on a good face and forged ahead. She told him of the little things that made up her life, including stories of what David was doing and how the horses were. Clive merely nibbled at the food.

  “Aren’t you hungry, dear?” she asked.

  “They brought our dinner not long ago. If I had known this was coming, I wouldn’t have eaten it. But this will keep.”

  “Is the food very bad?”

  “Not as good as Nessa’s,” Clive said, and a travesty of a smile touched his lips. “I don’t think I ever realised how much we owe to Nessa. She’s the best cook in the world, and I took it all for granted.” He sighed suddenly and shook his head with a slight motion that was filled with sadness. “I took so many things for granted.When I get out of here, it will be different.”

  “Yes, it will,” she said. She quickly kept the conversation going, aware that Clive was watching her intently. She was not good at covering up her feelings, and finally he interrupted her by saying, “What’s wrong, Dora?”

  “I—I’ve just been worried about you.”

  “But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

  Dora had not intended to add to Clive’s burden, but he questioned her gently and reached over and took her hand, and finally she said, “It’s that man that I can’t stand.”

  “You mean Aaron Digby?”

  “Yes. He—he’s courting me, Clive, and Aunt Bertha’s insisting that I need to be nice to him.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s the world’s greatest busybody.”

  “I don’t like him, Clive.”

  “Dora,” he said and put his other hand over hers so that he held her small hands between his larger ones. “I’ve ruined my life. I don’t want you to ruin yours.”

  “I’m afraid, Clive.”

  He squeezed her hands, then removed one of his and put it around her shoulders. “I am, too, Dora. I’ve done nothing but think about how mean and useless my life has been.”

  “That’s not so!”

  “I can’t think of any kindness I ever did anybody. I’ve been so blasted selfish—so caught up with myself.”His words were bitter, and he seemed to shrink inside himself, looking down at the cold stones of the floor.

  “That’s not true. You are a good brother to me, Clive. Think how many things you did for me when I was a child.”

  “I can’t think of any.”

  “Yes, you can.” She put her hands over his now and squeezed them.

  “You remember you always let me ride your pony? You wouldn’t let anybody else touch it.”

  The memory stirred in Clive, and he said,“That’s the sum total of my righteousness and my good deeds, I suppose.”

  “No, it’s not. You remember how you used to take me out to find birds’ eggs?”

  Clive smiled then, and his eyes lit up. “I’d almost forgotten that.We climbed some tall trees, didn’t
we, to find those birds’ eggs! Do you still have that collection?”

  “Yes. Of course, it’s still not complete.”

  A sadness swept across Clive’s face, and he murmured, “You know, Dora, it’s hard to believe that there was a time when the most important thing in life was to find a nightingale’s egg.”

  The two sat there, and Dora yearned to simply throw her arms around him and cling to him. She wanted to weep, but she knew he had burdens enough without that. She stayed until finally the guard came down and said, “Time to go, miss.”

  Quickly Dora rose, and Clive put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for coming, Sister.”

  “I’ll come back,” she said. She left the cell, and she was aware now that the rain, which had started some time ago, was falling harder.When she descended to the main floor and went into the entry room, she saw that the rain was falling in slanting sheets, a regular downpour.

  “You can’t go out in that, miss,” the burly guard said. “You’d better wait for it to slack off.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “You can sit over there on that bench.”

  Dora sat down, and the rain that fell was grey and grim and struck the earth with force. The downpour so burdened her spirit that she lowered her head and would not look up.

  Grant had come to the jail to get information from one of the prisoners. He had found the man unwilling to talk and had stayed for some time, trying persuasion and then threats. Finally he saw that he was getting nowhere, and he said sourly, “You’re going down for this one, Johnson. All you have to do is tell me who masterminded it, and I’ll see you’re taken care of.”

  “I ain’t no squealer.”

  “No, you’re very noble and all that.” Grant got up and called for the jailer. When the door opened, he left in a bitter frame of mind. His job required him to be with the worst of London’s population. He had spent his life with the grimy side of the city, where virtue and charm were almost nonexistent.

  He passed down the hall, thanked the guard, and was about to leave when he caught sight of a woman sitting on the bench. He was slightly shocked when he realised it was Dora Newton. He paused to study her and was struck by the sadness of her face. She was looking down. She had on a hat with a wide brim, but he could see enough of her face to know that she was devastated. For a moment Grant hesitated, then an impulse took him that he could not explain. He moved quickly across to her and said, “Well, the rain’s pretty bad, isn’t it, Miss Newton?” He saw her look up. There was a half-frightened look on her face. She reminded him, in that instant, of a frightened deer that he had once seen, a doe with a fawn. He had come upon them, taken them by surprise, and he had never forgotten that look in the beautiful eyes of the doe.