Inspector Abberline and the Gods of Rome

by Simon Clarke

  William pointed to a jar of liquid on the table. ‘That wasn’t there yesterday.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Lamp oil. And see all those matches scattered on the floor? The intruder must have intended to burn the place down.’

  Colonel Brampton straightened his tunic. ‘I have ordered a search for the saboteur. He’ll hang, of course. If we don’t shoot the blighter first.’

  Crouching, Thomas examined the matches. ‘Fortunately, the arsonist was interrupted.’

  Brampton gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Probably lost their nerve and ran for their lives.’

  ‘William,’ Thomas said, ‘one of your servants is missing.’

  ‘Laura Morgan. Yes, the poor girl appears to have run away. Everyone’s most distressed, she’s very popular here.’

  ‘The lunatic girl?’ Brampton seemed puzzled that they even deigned to mention her. ‘What of it? She’s hardly relevant to what happened here last night.’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘I disagree, Colonel. I think Laura was in this building.’

  The colonel made that harrumph sound again. ‘What earthly reason could the girl have for breaking in here?’

  ‘I can’t say,’ Thomas replied. ‘But I believe she was here, and that she fought with your intruder.’

  William’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘What makes you say that?’

  Thomas pointed at a small object on the floor. ‘Isn’t that a button from a woman’s blouse?’

  Brampton grunted. ‘Doesn’t prove anything. Might have been lying there for weeks.’

  ‘No, look closely. See this group of matches lying together? The button is lying on top of the matches. The button fell onto them after they were tipped out onto the floor.’

  ‘Good grief,’ breathed William. ‘Thomas is right. Miss Groom will know if the button came from Laura’s blouse.’

  The colonel grimaced. ‘If the girl was here, what does that prove?’

  William picked up the button. ‘As I said, it suggests that Laura fought with the intruder. The matches were spilled onto the floor then a button was torn from her clothes. To go further, I’d say that Laura hasn’t chosen to run away. No … I think she’s been kidnapped.’

  Brampton frowned. ‘Why would a saboteur abduct a maidservant?’

  William looked worried. ‘Laura would have raised the alarm. She could describe the man. I must admit that I fear for her safety.’

  ‘Then come with me to see Inspector Abberline,’ Thomas said. ‘He needs to speak to you, and we have important news for him.’

  CHAPTER 31

  ‘Laura … don’t be frightened, girl … we want to help you ….’ The man’s call shimmered on the morning air.

  Laura glanced at her abductor standing there in the centre of the woodsman’s hut. His head tilted slightly as he listened to the distant cry.

  ‘Laura … where are you, girl?’

  Laura shivered. ‘That’s Jeffrey, one of the footmen. They’re looking for me.’

  The man’s brown eyes gazed at her from beneath the brim of his hat. When she began to speak again he put his finger to his lips. Once again, she glimpsed the pistol that he wore on his hip – she’d seen photographs of American cowboys wearing a pistol in a similar fashion, tucked into a leather holster at the waist.

  ‘Laura!’

  This shout appeared much closer than that of the footman. Without hesitation, she rushed to the knothole in the wall and looked out into the bright, sunlit forest. She recognized two men who tended the gardens here at Newydd Hall. They wore rustic smocks and roughly woven straw hats. They called her name as they walked through the trees toward the woodman’s hut.

  Her kidnapper jammed an eye to a gap in the boards and peered out, for there were no windows in the hut; if it wasn’t for knotholes and gaps between the planks, they would be rendered blind to what was happening in the outside world.

  The two gardeners approached. Their powerful shouts boomed through the trees, scaring birds into a mass of fluttering wings as they rose into the air. They slashed the underbrush with sticks, perhaps expecting to see her lying there.

  ‘They’re coming this way,’ Laura hissed. ‘They’ll find us.’

  The man in the yellow coat fiercely gripped her arm before dragging her to the door.

  She struggled. ‘No. I won’t go with you.’

  He rested his hand on the butt of the pistol – a clear warning that he’d draw the weapon if she didn’t obey.

  ‘No. You won’t get me out of that door alive unless you tell me your name.’

  The man regarded her with those brown eyes that were so large and solemn looking. He tried tugging her to the door again, but she clung to a metal hook set in the wall.

  ‘No, sir. Tell me your name, or I’ll stay.’

  He frowned, puzzled by what she demanded. A moment later, however, he said, ‘Franco.’ His voice had a smoothness and lightness. In no way could it be described as coarse.

  ‘All right, Franco, I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘But on one condition.’

  ‘You don’t make conditions.’

  ‘My name is Laura.’

  ‘Come with me now.’

  ‘I will. But on the understanding you don’t hurt those men out there.’ She nodded at the pistol. ‘If you hurt them, I will find a way to kill you.’

  Her words surprised him. In fact, she saw a flash of respect in his eyes.

  ‘I will not kill. You must come now.’

  ‘Laura,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Come … Laura.’

  Silently, he eased the door open, put his finger to his lips again, and then, holding her tightly by the arm, guided her outside. The two gardeners were at the far side of the hut. For the time being, they wouldn’t see Laura and the man. Laura glanced to her right. A group of soldiers, with rifles slung across their backs, were using long wooden poles to move aside weeds in a ditch. They hadn’t noticed the pair emerge from the hut.

  Franco drew the pistol from its holster.

  ‘Remember,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t hurt anyone.’

  He propelled her to the end of the hut where a footpath led into the forest. He moved quickly, pushing her in front of him.

  ‘Laura!’

  The footman appeared on the path in front of them. He reacted with confusion when he saw the stranger with Laura. Although he glanced back, clearly wishing to hide in the bushes, he knew he couldn’t abandon her. Instead, the young man waved his arms and began yelling, ‘Here! Here! Here!’

  Another footman burst through the trees behind him. Both rushed forward – the two instinctively realizing that the odds were in their favour. They’d overpower Laura’s kidnapper. That’s what they must have been thinking.

  Franco raised the pistol, which neither of the men had noticed until now.

  ‘Stop!’ Laura yelled at her abductor. ‘Don’t hurt them!’

  Franco fired the pistol above their heads. Both men fled into the bushes, vanishing with the speed of terrified rabbits. Franco pushed Laura ahead of him, urging her to move faster.

  He kept repeating the same word, ‘Go … go … go.’

  Meanwhile, the soldiers had reacted to the pistol shot. Glancing back, she saw the soldiers swing the rifles from their backs. Suddenly, there were sharp cracking sounds. A bullet struck a tree, ripping a white furrow across its bark. Soon, however, the pair had vanished from sight into the shadows.

  Franco continued to utter the same word over and over: ‘Go … go … go …’

  We’re fleeing from Colonel Brampton’s soldiers, she told herself; this turn of events had astonished her. We’re running for our lives.

  The path took them deep into the forest. Trees towered above her; a thick canopy of branches that blocked out the sun. They moved through a world that dwelt in eternal night, or so it seemed to Laura. The man’s yellow coat was the brightest thing in that gloomy realm. His brown eyes constantly scanned their surroundings. He knew the soldiers would
be trying to find them.

  Laura heard the crunch of her feet on dead leaves; natural scents of the forest prickled her nose; the cold, damp air stroked her skin. For the first time in days, she felt completely connected to the reality of the world. Even the fear she felt of this frightening stranger was a natural fear – anyone else would feel the same emotions in this situation: the fear of being the captive of an armed man. That at any moment he might decide to point the gun at her head, curl his finger around the trigger, and … and … oh … here it comes again. Even though I hoped I was free of it …

  Music. Soft, lilting, haunting, shimmering music … Fluting notes ghosted from the dark heart of the forest. Her muscles tensed. The first violent flickers of panic burst upon her.

  The flute’s music grew louder. An unearthly fugue blown through the bones of dead men and women. That’s the image that came to Laura’s mind: flutes that had been carved from the white skeletons of the dead. The notes grew faster, a cascade of sound that frightened her, made her dizzy, made her want to scream. She clamped her fists to her ears. When she looked back at the man in the yellow coat he stared in bewilderment.

  ‘Don’t you hear it?’ she asked in terror. ‘The music … the music … HE IS COMING … ONE OF THE GODS OF ROME IS COMING …’

  Franco reacted with shock. His eyes opened wide as he spun round, scanning the wild tangle of trees.

  The music rose to a crescendo. Yet, he does not hear it. That was her last lucid thought before the wave of all-engulfing oblivion swept over her, sending her sprawling to the earth.

  The maid awoke. She saw that she was being carried toward a bridge that crossed a stream. Instantly, panic struck her. Because, standing in the middle of the narrow bridge was the white figure. Tall, motionless, unearthly, the creature waited for the man in the yellow coat to carry her to its waiting arms. Events had been leading to her coming to this place – this dreadful place that she never wanted to set eyes on again.

  Laura struggled. ‘Put me down.’

  Franco did as she asked. Of course, he did not see the phantom, or god, or whatever it was, on that bridge. Nor did he hear the music that shimmered on the cold air. A ghostly elegy for ones we have loved and lost. Laura had promised herself that she’d never come back here. Never ever …

  But what happened here that was so terrible? She asked herself. Why can’t I remember?

  Franco spoke softly. ‘Laura, why are you scared?’

  ‘The bridge.’

  ‘The bridge? It scares you?’

  ‘Something happened on the bridge….’

  Laura’s eyes returned to the figure. That elongated white thing grew brighter in the gloom beneath the trees. The white flesh appeared to glow. The music grew louder.

  That’s when the phantom did something extraordinary. It extended its arms to her. It held out its arms as if it was a distressed child needing its mother. And that’s when she remembered.

  ‘We must cross the water, Laura. The soldiers will soon be here soon.’

  ‘No. I can’t step onto the bridge.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because … I … remember everything.’ Agony lanced her through and through, and tears ran from her eyes.

  ‘Laura. Please … I can carry you across.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Use your pistol. Fire a bullet into my heart.’

  ‘You are still confused.’ He regarded her with genuine concern. ‘Remember? You fainted.’

  ‘I’m not confused.’ She spoke with a clarity that surprised her. ‘When I was sixteen I became pregnant. I was not married. My family were ashamed of me. Back then, my father was a gardener here, and he thought he’d lose his job, because his only daughter was going to give birth to a bastard.’

  ‘Laura, if the soldiers see us, they will use their guns again.’

  ‘I will stand between you and them. And I will tear open my blouse and bare my breast. And I will tell them to fire their bullets. I don’t deserve to live.’

  ‘Why such melancholy words? You are young. Healthy.’

  ‘I also gave my baby son away. Two years ago, when Charlie was one week old, I came to that bridge with my father … I walked out halfway across the bridge, and I put my lovely baby boy into the arms of a woman who could not have children of her own. I haven’t seen Charlie since.’

  ‘Please, Laura. The soldiers will be here at any moment.’

  The man didn’t roughly seize her this time. He held out his hand, and waited for her to take it.

  She stared at the bridge. The white figure was melting, changing, transforming. The frightening creature was a creature no more. She saw the arms of a baby. She saw its pink mouth as it cried. She saw its eyes. She saw perfect blue eyes, just as she’d seen them when she wrapped her baby snugly in the shawl then put him into the outstretched arms of the stranger.

  ‘Two years ago, sir, I gave my baby away. My father forced me. I was like a prisoner who didn’t have the right to say “yes” or “no”. He made me give up my son.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Then I forgot. How can a woman forget that she even gave birth to a child, sir? And forget that she gave that child away? Why was the memory cut from my mind?

  ‘You weren’t free to choose, Laura,’ he told her gently. ‘That means you must not blame yourself for what happened.’ He moved his fingers, encouraging her to take his hand.

  ‘No. I will not cross that bridge. I cannot put one foot on it.’

  ‘Then we shall use the path alongside the river. Do not look at the bridge.’

  Laura took his hand. His fingers were wet. She looked down at the redness oozing there. ‘Franco? A bullet hit you.’

  ‘Yet I am still walking. Now we’ll walk together. Si?’

  And together, they walked along the path, following the course of the stream.

  She did glance back once. A figure stood in the centre of the bridge. For reasons she couldn’t fully explain it seemed to resemble a child. Perhaps a child of two years of age. The skin was very white against the gloom beneath the trees. The child gazed at her.

  When the ghostly glow began to fade she turned away for the final time, and soon she and the man vanished into the shadows, and the breathless hush that lies beyond the veil of oak and elm.

  CHAPTER 32

  Thomas Lloyd found Inspector Abberline standing at the blackboard in the room they used as an office. Abberline chalked the words arsenic poisoning under the name of Joshua Denby. Quickly, Thomas explained to Abberline that the maidservant, Laura Morgan, didn’t appear to have run away after all, but that she’d probably encountered an intruder in one of the sheds that housed the airships.

  Abberline nodded as he listened. When Thomas finished he asked, ‘Where is William now?’

  ‘’He’s gone to his office.’

  ‘Has he sent men out to search for the maid and the intruder?’

  ‘Yes, including soldiers armed with rifles.’

  ‘I need to speak to William. Will you tell him I’ll be along in a moment?’

  Before they left the room, the detective carefully covered the blackboard with a cloth to hide what he’d written there from prying eyes.

  Abberline followed Thomas into William’s office a few moments later. He arrived at precisely the same moment as Colonel Brampton. The colonel reacted angrily when he found that the pair, who he clearly decided were obstacles to his mission, were present.

  William had been studying an engineering blueprint; its complex lines depicted an airship bristling with guns – a veritable dreadnought of the sky.

  ‘Really,’ exploded Brampton, ‘can’t this wait, Abberline? Our work has the highest military priority!’

  Abberline said, ‘Colonel, I must ask for your patience; it’s vital that—’

  ‘Confound it, man! No, no, and no again! We demonstrate the airship in front of the Prince of Wales himself, next week. I cannot delay our progress with your rummaging in graveyards and constantly interrupting Mr Denby!’


  Inspector Abberline calmly, and in an understated way, said; ‘Hold your tongue, Colonel. Don’t say another word until I’ve finished speaking to William here. If you interrupt, I will push you out through that door myself.’

  Brampton stared at Abberline; his eyes were wide and round with utter shock.

  Before he could so much as splutter in protest Abberline continued, ‘Lives hang in the balance. The decisions I make now may determine whether William is alive or dead by the end of today.’

  ‘Colonel,’ William said quickly, ‘I wish to hear what the inspector has to say.’

  Colonel Brampton gave a curt nod. Thankfully, he remained silent.

  Abberline said, ‘William, I have to tell you that your brother was probably murdered. And murdered by someone close enough to him to administer small doses of poison that would gradually accumulate in the body over several months. When enough of the chemical saturated his organs and bodily tissue, death would occur in such a way that it would seem to be a natural death.’ Abberline looked William in the eye as he drove home this important point. ‘It is highly likely that three years ago your brother was murdered by someone he knew and trusted.’

  ‘Poisoned, you say? How can you tell?’

  ‘We exhumed Joshua’s body, as you know. The corpse was in a state of unusual preservation. This is indicative of poisoning by arsenic over a long period. The arsenic remains in the flesh and staves off decay.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Doctor Penrhyn also applied the Marsh Test to samples of physical tissue taken from the body. The test confirms high levels of arsenic.’

  William swallowed. ‘That is shocking to hear, Inspector. Arsenic? If you hadn’t come here nobody would have ever known that my brother was murdered.’

  ‘Although I don’t have proof yet regarding all of your deceased brothers, I believe that most, if not all, have been murdered. They were slain in such a way to dupe doctors and police. All the deaths were made to look like accidents bar one.’

  ‘You mean my brother, Thaddeus?’

  ‘He was killed by a single gunshot just a matter of days ago.’ Abberline’s eyes were drawn to the window, as if expecting to see a sniper aiming a rifle at William’s heart. ‘If the same person killed your other brothers, then they have changed their method of execution – because that’s what these were: cold-blooded executions, carried out by a calculating and highly resourceful assassin.’