‘What do you think of it?’ she asked.
‘I hadn’t realised the scale.’
‘Can you see why it made Leo’s blood boil?’
‘I can see why Virgo included it in all of his caricatures.’
‘He loathed it.’
‘The place speaks volumes about the man who lives there.’
‘It’s disgusting for one man to have so much wealth.’
The clatter of hooves made them turn their heads. A gig was heading in their direction. It was being driven at a much more sedate pace than Diane’s curricle had been. When it drew level with them, it turned into the drive but not before Peter had been able to take a close look at the driver.
‘Did you see who that was?’ he asked.
‘His face is familiar but I can’t really place it.’
‘Go back to the shop and study Virgo’s prints again,’ he advised.
‘Why?’
‘That face appears in many of them.’
It slowly dawned on her. ‘Now that you mention it …’
‘Yes, Mrs Mandrake. We’ve just had our first sighting of Dr Penhallurick.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Higlett was still hunched over the table, trying to remember the rules of the particular game of patience that he was playing. From time to time, he added variations of his own, turning over a second card if the first one he picked up was unsatisfactory and changing that as well if it was not what he’d hoped for. By a combination of cheating, swearing and ignorance of the game, he slowly manoeuvred himself into a winning position. When he turned over the last card, he let out a whoop of joy and banged the table with a fist. It would be something he could boast about to Fearon.
When his friend appeared soon after, however, he was in no mood to hear about Higlett’s card game. He was simmering with anger at the way he’d been treated in the carriage. It had been humiliating.
‘Did you see him, Abel?’ asked Higlett.
‘Yes, I did.’
‘How much did he give you?’
‘Nothing at all.’
‘But he promised you a reward.’
‘I didn’t get it, Sim.’
‘Why not?’
‘We disobeyed his orders.’
‘Who cares about his frigging orders?’
‘He does. From now on, we stay in all night.’
‘That’s ridiculous. We’re entitled to—’
Fearon cut him short by grabbing his collar and lifting him to his feet.
‘We were too hasty,’ he explained. ‘When we went to Covent Garden the first night, we got ourselves noticed.’
‘That was your fault. You shouldn’t have bitten her like that.’
‘Shut up!’
‘I could hear her screams from the next room.’
‘Shut up, I said. Shut up and listen.’
He reinforced the command by pushing his friend roughly away. Though he protested loudly, Higlett could see that Fearon was talking in earnest. He was far too dangerous a man to cross. Without interrupting, he listened to what had happened when his friend had climbed into the carriage. By the end of the recitation, he was thoroughly chastened.
‘We’d have been walking into a trap tonight,’ he said, fearfully. ‘That’s why we must stay here.’
‘But there are women all over London. Forget about Covent Garden. We’ll find juicier fruit somewhere else.’
‘Haven’t you heard what I said?’ demanded Fearon.
‘Yes – we keep away from those two places we went before.’
‘We follow orders. If we don’t …’
He ran a hand quickly across his throat in a dramatic gesture. Higlett gulped.
‘He’d have us killed?’
‘Yes,’ said the other, ‘he would.’
‘But we’ve done him a lot of favours.’
‘They don’t count.’
‘He can’t have us murdered.’
‘He can do what he likes, Sim. He bought us. We’re his slaves.’
‘I’m nobody’s slave,’ said Higlett with token defiance.
‘I dare you to tell him that.’
Higlett thought better of it. On the one occasion he’d met the man who’d arranged their early release from prison, he’d been struck by his peremptory manner and by the ruthless glint in his eye. Confrontation with him would be a form of suicide. He sought another way out.
‘Let’s cut and run, Abel,’ he advised. ‘We’ve got plenty of money left. I say that we disappear from here and enjoy spending it.’
‘And what happens when he finds us?’
‘We make sure that he doesn’t.’
‘How do we do that?’
‘There are hundreds of places to hide in London.’
‘He’d track us down somehow, however long it took. Men like him never give up. We’d always be looking over our shoulders. Is that the kind of life you want?’
‘It’s better than being treated as a slave.’
‘We’re slaves who get well paid,’ Fearon reminded him.
‘You didn’t get a penny today.’
‘That was a punishment because we sailed too close to the wind.’
‘We needed women,’ complained the other. ‘It’s only natural.’
‘We can have as many as we like when things die down, Sim. Right now the Runners are looking for us. There’s a price on our heads so we need to be careful. Also,’ he continued, ‘there’ll be further work for us. That means another full purse. Until then, we do as we’re told.’
‘Can’t we get a doxy or two up here?’
‘No, we can’t.’
Higlett pulled a face. ‘So what do we do while we wait for a call?’
‘We play cards,’ replied Fearon, grabbing a flagon of ale and taking a long swig from it before handing it to his friend, ‘and we drink until we keel over.’
Peter Skillen returned to the gallery and told his wife and his brother what had happened. Charlotte was alarmed on Diane Mandrake’s behalf.
‘She spurned your offer of help?’
‘She turned me down flat, my love. Mrs Mandrake said that there was no need for me to stay the night there. They can manage on their own.’
‘Who else will be there with her?’ asked Paul.
‘Mr Tite, who works in the shop, and the servants – that’s all. Tite is not what I’d describe as able-bodied and the servants will make poor sentinels. I know that Mrs Mandrake has a weapon but she could be up against the killer.’
‘Did you suggest that she might stay with you and Charlotte?’
‘I pressed her to do so.’
‘What was her answer?’
‘She said that she’d never desert her property. If there was going to be a second assault on it, she had to be there to deal with it.’
‘Diane is too brave for her own safety,’ said Charlotte with a sigh.
‘You might say the same of Paul and me.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve said it a hundred times, Peter, but you take no notice.’
‘We were born with a sense of adventure,’ remarked Paul. ‘You can’t deny what’s in your blood, Charlotte.’
Peter was curious. Having told them about his visit to the print shop, and of his subsequent drive in the curricle to the home of Julian Harvester, he was eager to hear what his brother had learnt. Paul talked about his discoveries at the King’s Bench Prison and, even though she’d heard his story before, Charlotte was still fascinated. She simply could not understand why anyone would choose to stay locked up when he had the money to pay off his debts. Peter was glad that they’d finally solved the mystery of who’d actually produced the cartoons. Paul described his second visit to the Jolly Sailor.
‘Did anyone know where Fearon might be?’ asked Charlotte.
‘No,’ replied Paul, ‘I’m afraid not. But the man I paid did glean one important piece of information – the name of Fearon’s accomplice.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Sim Higlett �
�� he was in Newgate with Fearon, it seems. Someone arranged for them to be let out together.’
‘I’ll see if we have any mention of him,’ said Charlotte, reaching for her record book. ‘I don’t recall the name but he may be in my collection.’
‘What can you tell us about him, Paul?’ asked his brother.
‘I simply know that he’s as bad as his partner,’ said Paul. ‘They’re a gruesome pair, by the sound of it, and made themselves very unpopular in prison. Which one of them killed Paige, I don’t know, but it’s likely to be the same man who gave Jem such a beating.’
‘I’m sure that Jem would love to be there when we catch him.’
‘I don’t blame him, Peter.’
‘Well, at least we know who we’re actually looking for. Yeomans and his men are looking for two phantoms. We have names and – in the case of Fearon – a good description of what he looks like.’
‘You’ll have to be satisfied with that,’ said Charlotte, flicking through the pages. ‘There’s no Higlett in here, so I can’t even tell you why he was put in prison. Is there any way to find out?’
‘Newgate is nowhere near as lax and obliging as the King’s Bench,’ said Paul. ‘We’ve tried to get information out of them before and they insist that their records are confidential. That’s as it should be, I suppose. Unlike the Runners, we have no warrant to make enquiries like that.’ He turned to Peter. ‘I was interested to hear that you saw Dr Penhallurick at Harvester’s mansion. That puts two of our suspects under the same roof. Are they in league with each other?’
‘It’s conceivable,’ said Peter, ‘but it may just be that Penhallurick is his physician and was calling on Harvester today to relieve his gout or whatever affliction he suffers from.’
‘His affliction is having far too much money.’
Peter laughed. ‘Then it’s one I wouldn’t mind having myself.’
‘What about our other suspects?’
‘I found out something interesting about them. Sir Humphrey Coote may be an inveterate lecher but he has his good side as well. It turns out that he’s obsessed with the game of cricket. I admire him for that. It’s a game I love, but I’m prepared to make the supreme sacrifice. You can go in my stead, Paul.’
‘Go where?’ asked his brother, mystified.
‘To Thomas Lord’s cricket ground,’ said Peter. ‘I’ve seen the handbills advertising a match tomorrow. It’s between two Select Elevens of all England. The finest players in the country will be on display. If he’s that avid a spectator, Sir Humphrey is certain to be at the match. You’ll be able to take a close look at him.’
‘Don’t I get to watch the cricket as well?’
‘That’s up to you, Paul.’
‘Where will you be?’
‘I’ll be checking up on our other suspect – Gerard Brunt. He was trained as a lawyer and is always trying to get new laws on the statute book or to amend existing legislation.’
‘Where are you going to meet him?’
‘Oh, I won’t see him in person,’ said Peter. ‘Parliament is in recess at the moment but, according to no less a person than the Home Secretary, Brunt will be working on speeches to deliver in the Commons when it reconvenes.’
‘So what do you intend to do, Peter?’ asked his wife.
‘I plan to find out how his mind works, my love. If he likes pontificating in Parliament, then there’ll be a record of exactly what he said. While Paul is watching a cricket match in St John’s Wood, I’ll be getting acquainted with Mr Gerard Brunt in the pages of Hansard.’
As evening shadows lengthened, Yeomans and his men descended on Covent Garden. Every member of the foot patrols was there. After speaking to them as a group, and stressing the importance of their night’s work, he handed them over to Alfred Hale who read out the list of places to which each of them was deployed. They scattered immediately and went off to take up their respective positions. A killer was likely to be abroad and there was a sizeable reward for his capture. Hoping that he would be the one to encounter the villain, each man had his own seductive vision of heroism.
Chevy Ruddock was the exception to the rule. He thought only of his wife.
‘Agnes keeps asking why I have to stand guard over a church,’ he said, morosely, ‘and I can’t think of an answer.’
‘Tell her that you’re the guardian of precious relics,’ suggested Hale.
‘Or that the archbishop asked for you by name,’ added Yeomans. ‘When you tell a lie, make sure that it shows you in a good light. It helps a wife to sleep more easily if she feels that her husband has achieved something.’
‘But I haven’t,’ moaned Ruddock.
‘Tonight may be your night.’
‘What makes you think that, Mr Yeomans?’
‘We’re dealing with slavering dogs,’ said the other. ‘When the sun goes down, Covent Garden is full of gorgeous bitches on heat. Once they get that smell in their nostrils, the dogs find it irresistible. They’ll be here.’
‘Let someone else watch Mrs Fortune’s house.’
‘To start with, Ruddock, she is not a married lady. Doll has a ring on every finger but none of them happens to be a wedding ring. The second thing is that Alfred went to great trouble to work out the best use of our resources. Believe it or not,’ said Yeomans, ‘yours was the first name on the list.’
‘You should be pleased about that, Chevy,’ said Hale.
‘I am,’ said the other, ‘but I find that watching a brothel is … unsavoury.’
‘You have an unsavoury occupation in an unsavoury city, lad. The sooner you accept that, the better it will be for you. Besides, it will be an education for you. Doll attracts the cream of society.’
‘Yes,’ said Yeomans. ‘Step in there and you’re likely to see members of the peerage romping about. Covent Garden is a version of Eden for some people. Having said that, it’s nothing like the den of iniquity it used to be in the old days. Do you know how John Fielding, the Blind Beak, who helped to found the Runners, described it? He said that you would imagine that all the prostitutes in the kingdom had chosen this particular rendezvous. Think of that, Ruddock. Everywhere you went here at night, you were likely to trip over a naked woman open and ready.’
‘The place was full of gambling houses and Turkish baths in those days,’ said Hale. ‘Are you partial to a hot bath with four female hands to soap you, Chevy?’
‘No,’ exclaimed Ruddock in alarm.
‘You should broaden your horizons.’
‘I don’t want to, Mr Hale.’ He moved away. ‘I’ll get off to my station.’
‘If you see anything of interest,’ Yeomans called after him, ‘you know where to find us. We’ll be in the Peacock.’ He grinned at Hale. ‘We frightened Ruddock away, Alfred. He’s still a little raw at times.’
As they set off for the tavern, a clock chimed in the distance.
‘In another hour,’ said Hale, ‘it will be dark and the night people will come out to play. Will our killer be one of them?’
‘There’s no doubt about it. He and his friend have come here two nights in a row. They’ll be back again tonight to revel in the fleshpots. This is our big chance,’ said Yeomans, rubbing his hands together. ‘It will be a case of third time lucky.’
Higlett was getting progressively more restive. Having drunk ale steadily for hours, he was playing cards with Fearon and losing money at every turn. Frustration eventually got the better of him.
‘This is no way to spend an evening,’ he said, truculently.
‘It’s the way it has to be, Sim.’
‘Think of all those lonely nights we spent in Newgate.’
‘They were hardly lonely,’ said Fearon. ‘We shared the place with the scum of the earth. If they weren’t snoring, they were farting all night like cart horses.’
‘But there were no women, Abel.’
‘There were none that we could get at, anyway.’
‘We promised ourselves we’d make up for lost tim
e when we got out.’
‘And we did just that. The trouble is that … well, I got too excited. It was reported and the Runners came looking for us.’
‘They’re easy enough to dodge.’
‘Not when your breeches are around your ankles. I told you what he said. He heard it from the chief magistrate’s own lips. They’re after us, Sim. They’re keeping watch in Covent Garden.’
‘So we go somewhere else.’
‘We stay here and play cards.’
‘That’s boring and, in any case, you keep winning.’
‘You keep letting me win,’ said Fearon with a snigger. ‘It’s your deal so let’s get on with it.’
Higlett picked up the cards and shuffled them clumsily. He was just about to deal them out when he was troubled by a sudden thought.
‘Why is he keeping us, Abel?’ he asked.
‘He has more work for us.’
‘We were hired to follow Paige and kill him if he ignored the warnings.’
‘So?’
‘We did that. What’s left for us to do?’
‘The woman who owns the print shop needs to be scared.’
‘That’s what you did earlier on. You smashed her window.’
‘We don’t know if it worked, Sim. He told me that Mrs Mandrake was as tough as any man. She won’t be frightened easy.’
‘Then we kill her as well, I suppose.’
‘And we get even more money than we did for Paige.’
Higlett’s face puckered. ‘Then what?’
‘We wait for orders.’
‘But there may never be any. He wanted a man killed and a shop closed. If we commit a second murder, it’s all over. He doesn’t need us any more, Abel.’
‘In that case,’ said the other, shrugging, ‘we go our merry way.’
‘Are you sure he’ll let us do that?’ asked Higlett. ‘We’ve seen how he treats people who get in his way. Once we’re no longer any use to him, we’ll be in the way as well. Do you see what I mean?’
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