by Caro Peacock
‘A useful thing to have around then?’
‘Oh yes, but you have to be careful with it, mind. More careful than with most of the others here.’
‘Why?’
She folded the seeds back in the paper and put it in the basket.
‘Because if you take too much of it, leaves or seeds, it’s a deadly poison. It’s much the same as belladonna.’
She stood up heavily.
‘Now, do you want me to dry those stockings or don’t you?’
Once Mrs Martley had fussed her way out, I put the jars and packages back in the basket, much as I’d found them. After that, I sat on the bed for a long time, thinking. The conclusion was that Daniel had to know. I found a dry pair of stockings, put my damp cloak back on and told Mrs Martley I’d return later. I kept Jenny’s basket under my cloak as I walked along Piccadilly. When a police officer on his beat happened to glance at me, my heart pounded as if he could see through wool and wickerwork to the black seeds inside.
At the corner by Bond Street half a dozen people were looking at a poster tied to a railing. I was walking past when my ear caught the name ‘Columbine’. The poster looked fresh from the printers, paper not yet ruckled up by damp, printing as black as tar. I read over the shoulder of a street urchin who was trying to puzzle out the words.
It went on to describe Jenny as about twenty, of medium height and striking red hair. A solicitor’s name and address were given at the bottom of the poster for anybody with information to offer.
Between there and Bloomsbury Square I saw a dozen similar posters, each with a little group of readers. One of them was on a railing just two houses away from Daniel’s lodgings, so he couldn’t have missed seeing it. I knocked on his front door and waited for what seemed like a long time before it was opened by the maid, Izzy. She looked alarmed when she saw me, as if she’d been expecting somebody else.
‘Is Mr Suter in?’
For reply, she jerked her head towards the first landing. The studio door was closed and no music was coming out of it, both unusual circumstances when Daniel was at home.
‘I’ll see myself up,’ I said.
She looked as if she wanted to protest. I felt her eyes on my back as I went upstairs and knocked on the door of the studio.
‘Who’s there?’
Daniel’s voice, sounding annoyed.
‘Liberty.’
‘Wait a minute.’
It felt like more than a minute before he opened the door. His hair was ruffled as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and there were dark circles round his eyes.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said.
It was hardly a hearty welcome and it looked as if he meant to keep me standing in the doorway.
‘May I please come in?’ I said. ‘We must talk about Jenny Jarvis.’
He stood aside and gestured to me to take a chair. I opened my cloak and put the basket on the table, beside his piles of music.
‘Hers?’
‘Yes. Remember I took it home? I never had the chance to give it back to her.’
It seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off it. I sat down.
‘You’ve seen the posters?’ I said.
‘Yes.’
‘They don’t look like police posters. Who do you suppose is putting them out?’
‘Rodney Hardcastle.’ He said the name like a curse.
‘You know that for sure?’
‘It’s what the town’s saying.’
‘But he hasn’t got a hundred pounds. He owes tens of thousands.’
‘By the time anybody discovers that, it will be too late. The damage will have been done.’
‘You mean Jenny will have been arrested?’ I said.
‘It’s not even true. The posters say she’s wanted for Columbine’s murder. The police haven’t said that.’
‘They want to question her. That’s not surprising in the circumstances, is it?’
I said it as gently as possible, afraid he’d flare up at me. Of all people, I didn’t want to quarrel with Daniel.
He sighed, tore his eyes away from the basket, and sat down on the piano stool.
‘Was that what you wanted to talk about, the posters?’
‘There’s something else. I opened her basket and –’
Somebody was knocking at the front door, heavily and repeatedly. Daniel’s body went stiff.
‘Who is it this time?’
We heard the door open. Izzy let out a screech. Daniel jumped up.
‘Libby, keep them out. I’ll go and –’
Heavy feet in nailed boots were coming up the stairs. There were at least two pairs and they were in a hurry. Below them, Izzy was wailing. Daniel had his hand on the door knob when the door burst open. A large police officer shouldered his way in, followed by another even larger. Daniel was thrown backwards.
‘Keep out of here,’ he shouted at them. ‘You have no right.’
‘We have reason to believe that you are harbouring a wanted fugitive,’ the first policeman said. His voice was as deep and dismal as river mud. He added, as an afterthought, ‘sir.’
As he said it, the larger policeman was trampling heavy-footed across the room. Daniel regained his balance and moved to intercept him. The policeman simply shouldered him aside. He was making for the only possible place of concealment in the studio: a tall cupboard built into an alcove, where Daniel and his friends stored music stands and piles of scores.
‘You keep out of there,’ Daniel said.
The policeman opened the cupboard door. At first, watching from the other side of the room, I thought there was nobody inside and breathed again. But the expression on the policeman’s face told me otherwise. I moved a few steps and saw Jenny Jarvis standing upright and frozen inside the cupboard like a doll in a box. A badly used doll, though. Her face was as grey as the shawl she clutched round her, with arms crossed on her chest. Her beautiful hair was dyed a dull black, tangled like seaweed. Sheer terror had frozen her. She stared at the policeman like a rabbit with a buzzard diving down at it. He reached, grabbed her arm and pulled her out.
‘Got you, missy.’
She didn’t attempt to resist, but the first policeman thundered across the room and grabbed her other arm. Together, they dragged her towards the door. Daniel stood in their way, arms outstretched.
‘You can’t –’
I let out the longest and highest screech I could manage and grabbed the metronome off the piano. The larger policeman was still wearing his top hat. I aimed the metronome at the crown of it, well above his head.
My aim was true. The hat flew off and hit the wall but the head under it was unscathed. The metronome bounced off the constable’s shoulder and landed on the other constable’s boot. They cursed, but kept tight hold of the unresisting Jenny.
‘Arrest her too,’ said the larger constable to the other one.
‘No,’ Daniel shouted. He ran to me and grabbed me by the arm. ‘She’s nothing to do with this. She didn’t know.’
‘They didn’t either of them know.’ Up to then Jenny had been so passive that it was a shock to hear her talking at all. Even more surprising, her voice was firm and loud. ‘I got in here when Mr Suter was out and hid myself. He didn’t know till now.’
‘That’s not –’ Daniel started saying.
I screeched again and picked up a bound copy of Messiah.
‘That one’s a bloody madwoman,’ the larger policeman said. ‘Leave them. We’ve got the one we came for.’
He moved, bumped against the table, and noticed the basket.
‘That yours?’ he said to Jenny.
‘Yes.’ Still in that surprisingly firm voice.
‘We’ll take that with us, then.’
He picked it up with his free hand. They went through the door sideways on, Jenny in between them, and hustled her down the stairs so fast her toes didn’t touch the treads. I grabbed Daniel’s jacket as he went through the door after them.
‘Let them go. I swear, if you get yourself arrested, I’ll make them arrest me too,’ I said.
He looked at my face and saw that I meant it. By the time we got downstairs they were already loading Jenny into a vehicle like a cab, though even less comfortable. One of the constables wedged himself in beside her. The driver flicked the reins, the horse lurched into a walk and the other policeman fell in step alongside as if even now fearing Jenny might escape.
Daniel stood on the kerb, watching them out of sight.
‘You shouldn’t have stopped me, Libby.’
‘How in the world would it help to get yourself arrested too? You knew she was there?’
‘Of course I did.’
‘How long have you been hiding her?’
He hesitated.
‘I found her in Seven Dials yesterday.’
‘Just out in the street?’
‘Yes.’
‘They could arrest you as an accomplice to murder, you know that?’
‘She didn’t murder the woman.’
I let that pass for the while.
‘At any rate, she did her best for you,’ I said. ‘As long as she sticks to the story about sneaking in without your knowledge, you should be safe.’
‘I don’t want to be safe if she’s not.’
‘You wouldn’t be any use to her in prison, would you? Thank the gods she was thinking clearly, even if you weren’t.’
He glanced at me, surprised at my anger.
‘But you tried to stop them arresting her.’
‘No. There was never any hope of that. All I was trying to do was stop you assaulting a police officer and getting arrested too.’
I’d gambled that they’d be less likely to arrest an apparently hysterical woman than a man obstructing them. My throat felt rough from all that screeching.
‘They’ll be taking her to Bow Street, I suppose. I must go there,’ Daniel said.
He looked ready to set off that instant, without hat or coat.
‘There’s no point going anywhere until we decide what to do,’ I said.
I was afraid that if he arrived at a police office in his present mood he’d talk himself into a cell. He sighed but turned back towards the house. The front door was still wide open. He went inside.
‘Izzy.’
His call echoed round the hall. There was no answer.
‘She’s gone,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
The poster had done its work. A hundred pounds was more than a maid could earn in five years. I felt sad for Izzy’s betrayal of him and the certainty that it had been for nothing, as she’d never get her hands on the reward.
Daniel went slowly upstairs, head bowed. We sat down in the studio.
‘There’s something you should know,’ I said.
I told him about the thornapple seeds. After the first few words he closed his eyes as if he didn’t want me to see what was going on in his mind. When I’d finished, there was a long silence.
‘We don’t know what poisoned Columbine,’ he said at last.
‘No. But thornapple’s like belladonna.’
‘And you’ve managed to put that basket straight into their hands.’
‘Believe me, that wasn’t what I wanted. But it might even be in her favour.’
‘How?’
‘That basket’s been in my possession ever since she ran out after the fight on Saturday. If she or anybody else took thornapple out of it, it must have happened before that.’
He thought about that for a while.
‘Yes, come to think of it, I noticed it in the corner of your room when I was waiting for you on Monday morning.’
‘There’s still a problem. though,’ I said. ‘It looked as if that package had been opened and closed by somebody in a hurry.’
‘What are you saying, Libby? She runs from the theatre so distressed she doesn’t even remember her basket, but she finds time to take a pocketful of poison out of it? Does that make sense?’
‘No. Unless she’d taken it out earlier.’
‘But why? Before the fight, she’d no reason to wish any harm to the woman. No more than all the rest of us, anyway.’
‘We still don’t know the cause of the fight. Columbine quite deliberately singled Jenny out from all the other dancers. Did Jenny give any reason?’
‘I didn’t want to bombard her with questions. You saw what Columbine was like. She noticed Jenny was the most vulnerable and picked on her simply out of malice.’
I had my doubts, but didn’t argue.
‘You’d explain to the police about the basket?’ he said.
‘If you think it will help, yes.’
‘So let’s go to Bow Street now.’
‘And remind them that she was hiding in your cupboard? Daniel, we were both of us within a few breaths of being arrested. The last thing we need is to bring ourselves to the attention of the police so soon.’
‘I can’t just sit here while she’s locked in a cell. I want to know what’s happening to her.’
‘Very well then, I’ll go to Bow Street and find out.’
I hoped that I could change my manner and appearance enough to avoid being recognised as the hysterical woman. But Daniel had no intention of letting me go to Bow Street on my own. If I walked out, he’d come with me. Impasse. We sat there glaring at each other until an idea came to me.
‘We’ll go and get Toby Kennedy. He has a lot of lawyer friends. He’ll know what to do.’
Reluctantly, Daniel agreed and we set out for Holborn. By now it was dusk outside, drizzling with rain. Luckily, Kennedy was at home. Daniel told his story more coherently than I’d expected. I could see from Kennedy’s expression that he was horrified at the legal risk his friend was running, but his advice was as practical as ever, and supported mine.
‘You’re not setting foot within a mile of Bow Street, Suter. Liberty and I will do anything that can be done. You will not stir from this room until we get back.’
We walked quickly, under Kennedy’s big black umbrella.
‘Did she poison Columbine?’ he asked me.
‘In all honesty, I don’t know.’ I thought of her impulsive kiss on my cheek, the way she’d summoned up enough courage to lie to the police for Daniel’s sake, and added, ‘I hope not.’
‘Only “hope”? God help poor Suter.’
At the police office he suggested I should wait outside under the umbrella while he went in and inquired. I agreed, not wanting to risk meeting the two policemen again if it could be helped. I waited a long time. When he came out, his face looked grim in the light of the lamp over the door.
‘They haven’t wasted time. The magistrate was already sitting when they brought her in. She’s been committed for trial to the Central Criminal Court, the Old Bailey.’
I knew that the magistrate could hardly have done otherwise in the circumstances, but the reality of it, and what it would mean for Daniel, hit me like a punch in the stomach.
‘Did you manage to see her?’ I asked him.
He shook his head.
‘She’s with the other prisoners, waiting for the van to come and take them to Newgate.’
The very name of the prison was like a stone slab falling to seal a tomb.
‘You look tired out,’ Kennedy said. ‘I’ll see you home and then I’ll go back and tell Suter. Bad news will keep.’
I was about to accept his offer, then the picture came into my mind of Jenny dancing and I thought how much worse it would be for her than women who were used to being shut in cells.
‘The Augustus is just round the corner. I think I’ll go there instead.’
‘Liberty, this is going to end badly. Stay out of it.’
‘How can I? Daniel helped me when I needed it.’
He sighed. ‘I can’t stop you, can I?’
I thanked him and turned away.
‘For heaven’s sake, girl, at least take the umbrella.’
I took it.
CHAPT
ER EIGHT
There were new playbills plastered to the outside walls of the theatre. Barnaby Blake had moved quickly in putting together a different programme before interest in the Augustus could fade. A troupe of Spanish dancers – Direct from Seville. Never seen in England before – had taken over Columbine’s star spot. Desdemona’s strangling was replaced by The bloodthirsty crimes of King Richard Crookback, presented by Mr Robert Surrey, Mrs Honoria Surrey and introducing their talented children, Miss Susanna and Master David Surrey. Inside, Billy the doorkeeper was mopping the corridor. His efforts seemed to be doing no more than covering trampled mud with a thin sheen of water. When I wished him good afternoon he peered at me shortsightedly over his mop, obviously with no clear idea of who I was, but made no attempt to stop me. There were still two hours to go to performance time and the dressing-room corridor was deserted, the doors along it all closed. The only sound was a high voice coming from the stage.
I do not like the Tower, of any place.
Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord?
The lines were repeated, several times over. I went into the wings and looked out on Mr and Mrs Surrey, the boy who’d been cuddling the cat and a pretty girl of about twelve, all still in overcoats and scarves. They were rehearsing the killing of the little princes in the tower. As far as I could make out, the dialogue was plumped out with lines from various plays of Shakespeare, plus some that he never wrote. The boy seemed sulky and had to be prompted several times, but the girl was good and word-perfect. Her heart-shaped face and swathe of fair hair seemed guaranteed to flutter handkerchiefs in the gallery. After half an hour or so, they finished their rehearsal and came into the wings, on my side.
‘Excuse me, but I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes,’ I said. ‘It’s about Columbine …’
Actors think quickly and Robert Surrey didn’t hesitate.
‘Yes, I’ve seen you with Daniel Suter, haven’t I? Let’s go to the dressing room. It’s not so cold there.’
The children had been whispering together, looking as if they were having an argument. He produced some coins from his coat pocket and gave them two pennies each.
‘You two, go and find a chestnut seller. Warm your hands and mind you bring some chestnuts back for us.’
