The Mermaid in the Basement

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The Mermaid in the Basement Page 29

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Can you put him back on the wagon alone?” Serafina asked.

  “Why couldn’t I do that?”

  “You don’t look well.”

  “I’m fine—move out of the way!”

  Serafina studied Dylan’s face. He was different somehow, and she realised that he was humiliated.

  “Don’t let it trouble you, Dylan,” she said. “Many people can’t stand to watch an autopsy.” She would have said more, but he lifted the corpse and left the room. She followed him and watched as he put the body in the wagon.

  “What do we do with him now?” he asked shortly.

  “We have to take him to his parents.”

  Dylan stared at her in outrage. “And tell them what?”

  “The truth. That their son was murdered. And we’ll convince them that what we did was the right thing.”

  “Why didn’t we go to them earlier?”

  “They would never have given their permission for an autopsy.

  People don’t want their loved ones to go through that.”

  “This is crazy! We’ll both go to jail!”

  “No, we can do it. I’ll go with you.” Serafina’s voice was hard-edged, and her lips were tight. “We’ll convince them that we need to find the murderer.”

  “What will happen then?”

  “I’ll convince them to let my father do an autopsy. I don’t have any credentials, but he’s a recognised authority.He’s done many autopsies. Of course, he won’t have to do an autopsy because I’ve done it, and I’ve saved the evidence I found. That will be enough to prove that Simmons was murdered.”

  “But—we don’t know who did it!”

  “No, but this will help Sir Leo get an innocent verdict for Clive.”

  Dylan listened to her, then dropped his head. “Sorry I let you down.

  Didn’t know I was such a baby!”

  “You did fine, Dylan. I’ve never thanked you for all you’ve done—but I want you to know I’m more grateful than I can say.”Then, as if she’d said more than she’d intended, she said briskly, “Now let’s finish this job. The trial starts on Tuesday, and we’ve got to have all this evidence ready for Sir Leo.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  The trial of Clive Newton began on the eighth day of May 1857. The day began with a warm breeze out of the south, but by ten o’clock rain clouds had gathered, and the spectators—those who did not have umbrellas—were drenched. The crowds swelled and contended over the few public seats in the Old Bailey that were available, and the air within the courtroom was filled with expectancy, along with some laughter and loud jesting before the trial began. Outside in the street, newsboys were shouting the news of the trial, and the reporters had made it clear in all their stories what was to come.

  All of Clive’s family were present, and Serafina glanced at them as they sat numbly watching the proceedings.Her father’s face was still and fixed in an expressionless mood, but she knew that he was more troubled than she had ever seen him. Her mother was pale as a ghost, and her lips trembled when she tried to speak. Dora, as might be expected of one with such tender sensibilities, was so troubled that Serafina wondered if she could make it through the trial. Aunt Bertha, on the other hand, looked angrily at the officers of the court as though she would like to jump into the fray.

  Finally the jury filed in and sat in two rows, their backs to some high windows, their faces pointed toward the lawyers’ tables. To their right was the dock, which amounted to little more than a small closed-in balcony, its hidden steps leading down to the cells where prisoners were kept. The witness box was opposite the dock. In order to gain entrance, one had to cross the open space and climb some curving steps. The witness then stood isolated, facing the barristers and the public.

  Highest of all and behind the witness box, surrounded by carved mahogany panels and seated on plush, was the judge. Serafina studied him carefully, for Sir Leo had told her a great deal about him. Judge Franklin Locke was in his fifties, a tall, lean man with an aquiline-looking face. His eyes were clear grey, bright as broken glass. A dark preoccupation shaded his face, which was marked by will and intelligence. “He’s a challenging man,” Sir Leo had said, “but he knows the law and plays no favourites.”

  Serafina shifted her eyes and saw Dylan, who had obtained a seat at the very back of the room. He smiled at her encouragingly, but she found herself unable to return his smile. She turned to the wall opposite the gallery. Everywhere there was a great amount of wooden paneling. It was very imposing, as little like an ordinary room as could be. She felt stifled by the presence of so many people. Every seat was filled. She straightened slightly when an officer stepped forward and said in a high-pitched nasal tone, “The court will come to order. Judge Franklin Locke presiding.”

  As the preliminaries went on, Serafina studied the jury, and somehow their faces frightened her. They were all men, and she noticed how they kept their eyes fixed on Clive, who stood in the dock. His face was pale, and he had lost weight so that his cheeks had sunken in as well as his eyes. Even as she looked, he turned and caught her eye, and she smiled with a confidence she did not feel.

  The preliminaries were finally over, and the prosecution began. The prosecutor, Allen Greer, made his opening statement in a gravelly voice.

  “My lord and gentlemen of the jury,” he said, his voice seeming to fill the entire courtroom, “this case is a relatively simple one. You will have no difficulty at all arriving at a verdict of guilty. I would that all cases were this simple and easy for a jury.”

  “Objection,my lord.” Sir Leo rose and said,“My worthy opponent is making assumptions. He may well make them, but the jury may not.”

  Judge Locke, who gave Sir Leo a steady look, said, “Objection sustained. Mr. Greer, you will let the jury arrive at their own conclusion.”

  Greer smiled at Sir Leo frostily but said, pleasantly enough, “Very well, my lord, I apologise.” He then turned to the court and for the next ten minutes traced the crime from beginning to end.He laid out the murder and promised that he would present evidence against Clive Newton that the jury would find interesting.He smiled broadly, adding, “I trust my opponent, Sir Leo, does not object to that phrasing.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Greer.” Sir Leo returned his smile.

  “This is not a social event,” Judge Locke said, his voice like a knife. “You will refrain from such pleasantries.”

  Greer was flustered by this and said, “I am finished, Your Honour.”

  Judge Locke waited until Greer seated himself, then said, “You may make your opening statement, Sir Leo.”

  Leo rose, and as Serafina studied his face, she marveled at his self-confidence and eagerness. Why, he’s more of an actor than Dylan! she thought with astonishment. Indeed, Sir Leo laid out his plan to make it impossible for the jury to find Clive anything but innocent in their verdict. Both Serafina and Dylan knew that he was bluffing, but he was without doubt the best bluffer either one of them had ever seen.

  After the opening statements, the judge said, “The prosecution may make its case.”

  Greer rose at once and began by calling a series of witnesses, most of them members of the cast of Hamlet playing at the Old Vic. In quick succession Sir William Dowding, Ashley Hamilton, Malcom Gilcrist, and Ives Montgomery gave testimony that amounted to the fact that Clive Newton had indeed been in hot pursuit of the murdered woman, that he had given her gifts, and that they had heard him make a death threat on the night the woman was murdered.

  In each case, when it was his turn to cross-examine, Sir Leo flew at his task with a fierce energy. He was a relentless man when he was after a witness, although he had little chance to prove anything. He questioned the witnesses at such length that Greer protested once, “My lord, the defense is badgering these witnesses.”

  Locke turned to hear Sir Leo’s reply, and when Sir Leo simply said, “It is my duty to see that all is brought out,” the judge replied, “I think you have done that, Sir Leo.”

/>   “Yes, my lord,” Sir Leo said and quickly sat back down.

  The case for the prosecution went on all day, with only a break for lunch. After the judge had dismissed the court for the day, Serafina went at once and faced Sir Leo. “How was it, Leo?” she asked.

  “All I could do was fight for time. In the meanwhile, I suggest you spend your time, perhaps, looking for that man with the steel hook.”

  Serafina stared at him. “You think that’s our only hope, don’t you?”

  “I have never said anything else, have I, Lady Serafina?” He glanced over and saw the pale faces of the family. “Do what you can to comfort the family and find that man.”

  The following morning a note came to Sir Leo before he even had his breakfast. It was brought by one of the jailers whom he knew slightly. He took the note, which said: Give this man some money, Sir Leo, and come at once. I have news. It was signed by Clive Newton. Sir Leo reached down to his pocket, pulled out a crown, and gave it to the man, who grinned and said, “Thankee, sir. Thankee!”

  Sir Leo left the house at once, and upon arriving at the jail was admitted to Clive’s cell. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw that there was an electric excitement in Clive’s eyes. “What is it, Clive?” he demanded. “It had better be good to make me miss my breakfast.”

  “Sir Leo, I’ve thought of the woman’s name.”

  The advocate instantly straightened up. “How did that happen?”

  “I can’t tell you how it was. I was awake all night, as you can imagine. I finally drifted off to sleep, and some time early this morning I had a dream, but it was more of a memory. I saw myself in the house with that woman, and the man with the steel hook entering the door when she called.When he came in, he said, ‘Wot is it you want, Sadie?’ That was her name—Sadie.” Clive looked at Sir Leo. “Will that help, do you think?”

  “It may help a great deal. I’ll have to get word to your sister and Dylan. It will be a lot easier for them to find a woman called Sadie and a man with a steel hook than a woman with no name.”

  He left at once, and Clive watched him go with a bright look of expectation. But he realised that time was against them, and he sat down on the bench. After a long time he prayed, for the first time since he was a boy. “God, I have not been a good man, but you know I didn’t harm Kate Fairfield. Give Dylan and Serafina a bit of good sense, Lord.”

  Sir Leo saw Serafina come into the courtroom, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dylan push and shove his way to one of the coveted seats. He got up and motioned to Serafina, then to Dylan.He led them out into the corridor, where he turned at once and said, “Clive got word to me this morning. He remembered the woman’s name.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Serafina exclaimed. “What was it?”

  “He said her name was Sadie. That’s all he knows. He dreamt it, so it may not be her name at all. I don’t trust dreams all that much.”

  “Well, I do,” Dylan said. “The best man in the Bible, in many ways, was Joseph, and they called him a dreamer. I’ll go at once.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Serafina said. “I can do nothing here.”

  “I’ll need you for a witness before the trial is over, so report in. I’ll make sure you have notice before you go on the stand.”

  “Will the murder of Jack Simmons be of any help?” Dylan asked.

  “The prosecution has convinced the judge that his death has nothing to do with the death of Kate Fairfield.” Disgust thickened his voice, and he said bitterly, “It’s one of those injustices that we find in the halls of justice. The judge said it was hearsay, not admissible in a trial.”

  “We’ll just have to find the woman,” Serafina said grimly. “It’s our only hope.”

  The two left, and Sir Leo thought as he watched them go, They’re a strange pair. Different in every way, but God help them to find Sadie!

  As soon as they were outside, Serafina said, “I’m going to send a note to Superintendent Winters.”

  “What about?”

  “He promised to use his office to help find the woman.”

  “Did he now?”

  “Yes. I know it’s strange, but he seemed willing to help, and Inspector Grant also. They have many men in the Yard. If they were all looking for a woman named Sadie who lives with a man with a steel hook, they could cover more ground than we do.”

  “Send them a note. I’m going to put on some old clothes and go at once.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Go with me where?”

  “I want to help you look.”

  “You can’t go dressed like that.”

  “I’m going, Dylan, so let me hear no more about it!”

  “Well, there’s an old mule you are. Stubborn as I ever saw.Well, we’ll have to get you some old clothes, and you’re much too pretty. I’ll have to unprettify you a bit.” He smiled and said, “That might be fun.”

  Serafina stared at him, a hot reply on her lips. But this was his world, and she said, “All right.Whatever you say. I’ll write the note and have it sent to Mr. Grant.”

  Serafina had written the note, then gone to Dylan’s rooms. Dylan had stopped on the way and bought her some old clothes from a shop specializing in such. She examined herself in a mirror on the wall. She had donned a shapeless grey dress that hid her figure well enough. The shoes had been patent leather once, but now were little more than scraps that she had to tie onto her feet. A ratty-looking shawl was draped around her neck, and Dylan had put a floppy mob cap on her, such as cleaning women wore. She stared at her reflection and then turned to face Dylan. “Will this do?”

  “Almost, but you’re far too clean.”He kept some of his materials for disguises in his room, and he proceeded to dust her hands with something that gave them a grimy appearance.“Hold still now. Your face is far too clean.”

  Serafina stood still and felt his hands on her face. “Don’t paw me!” she said angrily.

  “Be quiet, woman, afore I bat you one!” Serafina stared at him, and he laughed. “That’s the way you’ve got to talk. None of your fine English when we’re out there.”

  Serafina saw that her face was grimy, and with the floppy bonnet on, she felt no one would recognise her.

  “Rub some of that under your nails so they’ll look like you haven’t bathed. You really smell too good for a poor woman, but there’s nothing we can do about that, is there?”

  “Let’s go, Dylan. Time is against us.”

  “Right, you. Come along.”

  The two left Dylan’s apartment and went to the area of Saint Giles. It was another one of the slum areas of London, filled with filthy lanes and decaying tenements. “I was pretty close to some of these folks when I was a thief,” he said. Serafina glanced at him and saw he was quite matter-of-fact about that time.

  She followed him to a tenement house that seemed to be leaning precariously toward the street. “Still here,” he said.

  They went inside and were stopped at once by a hulking man with a brutal-looking face. “Wot’s it yer want?”

  “Come on, Baines. You remember me.”

  The big man called Baines squinted in a nearsighted fashion. “Why, it’s you, ain’t it? Where you been? In jail I reckon.”

  “Don’t have time to talk now, Baines.Wot I wants to know is do you know a woman named Sadie who’s kept by a man with a steel hook?”

  “Wot yer wanna know for?”

  “Wot do you care long as I pays?”

  Baines stared at him and said, “You allus was a clever one.No, I don’t know no such woman, nor no man wiv a steel hook.”

  “Here’s a sovereign for you. There’ll be another one just like it if yer find out anything. I’ll check with you later on today. Be quick now.”

  “I keep this sovereign no matter,” Baines said threateningly.

  “Just find the woman. You’ll get another.Maybe two.”

  Serafina followed after Dylan; she was completely out of her world. Most of the street
s were narrow and required careful navigation. All of them were filled with costers, barrows, old clothes carts, peddlers, vegetable wagons, and clusters of people buying, selling, and begging. They all began to look alike to her, and the smell was terrible. Sometimes the pavements were only wide enough to allow for the passage of one person, and the open gutters that meandered through them were filled with the night’s waste. The houses seemed to lean out over the streets, so close at the top as to blot out the sky.

  Once Serafina stopped and looked at a child sitting in the gutter. The child was difficult to see in the half-light and was dressed in such rags it was impossible to tell whether it was a boy or a girl. A wave of compassion touched her, but Dylan pulled her away, saying, “Come on, woman.”

  They moved from point to point, each time Dylan finding someone he knew and promising them money if they found a woman named Sadie accompanied by a man with a steel hook. They passed by many prostitutes looking tired and drab. There was little beauty among them. Their hair was lusterless and full of knots, their teeth stained and chipped. They stayed at the job steadily, and finally Dylan turned and said, “You must be exhausted, Viscountess.”

  “I can go on,” Serafina said, although her legs were trembling with fatigue, or perhaps it was emotion. She had never seen such misery or poverty at close hand.

  “I have another call to make.”He led her through the streets until he found the house where Callie and her brother, Paco, stayed with their mother. When he knocked, it was Paco who answered the door. “Hello, Paco, how are you this morning?”

  Paco recognised him but looked past him at Serafina. “Who’s she?”

  “A friend of mine. Can we come in?”

  Paco was suddenly joined by Callie. She had washed her face and donned a dress that was too small for her. “It’s you,” she said. “Wot is it yer wants?”

  “I’ve come to visit with your mother.”

  Callie studied him carefully, then her eyes went to Serafina. “Is this ’ere your woman?” she demanded.

 

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