Andrew Pepper - The Detective Branch

‘I can quite understand your antipathy…’

‘ Antipathy? Is that what you think this is?’ She sounded angry for the first time. ‘That bastard murdered my child and the judge sent him to prison for five years. Does that sound like justice to you?’

Pyke waited for a moment before replying. ‘As I understand it, the weakness of the Crown’s case was their inability to prove that he had any reason to do what he was accused of.’

‘You think a man like Ebenezer Druitt acts according to the dictates of reason?’

Her face was now glowing with anger.

‘I was interested to see that you didn’t provide any testimony at the trial.’

‘I didn’t witness what happened. Brendan did. It was decided that his testimony would be sufficient.’

‘Not by you?’

‘I would happily have taken the stand and told the court what I thought of him.’

Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Outside, Pyke noticed, it had turned dark. ‘Actually,’ Sarah Scott said, ‘the whole business with the letter and the vicar’s surplice… that sounds just like his sort of thing.’

‘Druitt’s?’

Her stare was hard. ‘He always liked to play games. Let you know how clever he was.’

‘But he’s in prison. The new prison at Pentonville, I believe.’

‘So? You think it’s beyond him to arrange this kind of thing? He knows a lot of people and he can be very persuasive.’

Pyke considered what she was implying; either that Druitt might have arranged for the letter to be sent and the surplice to be planted at No. 28, or that he’d somehow planned the murder.

But there was something else he’d noticed, too. He can be very persuasive. It was almost as if Sarah Scott had just acknowledged the charm of the man.

‘If Malloy’s telling the truth, he obviously believed in Druitt’s powers sufficiently to want to warn Guppy about this premonition.’

‘Like I said, a lot of people believed that Druitt had special powers, not just Brendan.’

‘And you?’

She ran her fingers over one of the creases in her dress. ‘He liked to see himself as something of an anarchist. I think he’s just a man who feeds on other people’s suffering, takes delight in turning people against each other.’

Pyke mopped his forehead. It was warm in the room now, with the fire roaring in the grate. ‘Is that what happened to you? Did he turn you and Brendan against one another?’

Sarah sat very still on her chair, as though she hadn’t heard the question. ‘Did you know he’d trained as a mesmerist?’

Pyke nodded.

‘For a while, at least, what he did to me made the visions in my head go away,’ she said finally.

‘And what exactly did he do to you?’

Sarah Scott flinched and her face reddened slightly. ‘He put me to sleep, Detective.’

‘And this had a beneficial effect? In a way that Malloy’s exorcism hadn’t?’ Pyke found himself looking at her full lips and her fine cheekbones. It had been a while, he realised, since he had been with a woman he liked; a woman he hadn’t paid for.

She seemed to sense this interest, the way he was looking at her, and softened. ‘You’re a perceptive man, Detective Inspector.’

‘Then perhaps you’ll allow me to make another remark. I was going to say that you don’t strike me as a particularly religious person.’

‘That depends on what you mean by religious.’

He tried to imagine her with Brendan Malloy; tried to imagine what the exorcism he’d carried out was like.

‘You seem composed, quite sane, to be honest.’ Pyke managed a smile. ‘Malloy, on the other hand, seems a little deranged…’

‘He wasn’t always like that,’ she said, gently.

‘Just before I left him in his cell, he grabbed my wrist and told me that Druitt is the Devil himself.’

‘It’s been sad, to watch him lose his grip on reality.’ Sarah Scott looked away and shook her head.

‘And that’s why the two of you are no longer together?’

Instead of answering him, she put her hand to her mouth and yawned. ‘I’m sorry. I’m tired. I was up at dawn with everyone else.’

‘Perhaps you don’t want to talk about your relationship with Malloy?’

‘Tell me, Detective; who does like to talk about their past, especially when there’s so much to forget?’

Pyke nodded.

‘Do you have much reason to make the journey to London?’

She shook her head. ‘I haven’t been back to London for a number of months.’

He thought about the woman he’d met by the gate and what she’d told him but decided not to press the issue.

‘I’m assuming you’re not intending to travel back to London tonight,’ she said, bending down to put another log on the fire.

‘I thought I might walk back into Ipswich and find a room there.’ He had already sent a note to Felix and Mrs Booth saying he wouldn’t be back until the following evening.

‘The cottage next to me is empty for the next few days. You could always sleep there.’

Pyke assimilated this piece of information. To his surprise, a part of him didn’t want to go. He liked the fact that just when he thought he had worked Sarah Scott out, she surprised him.

‘In case you’re worried about what other people will say, this isn’t anything like the society you may be used to. People are honest and open minded, or at least most are, and they don’t rush to pass judgement. They accept you for who you are.’

Pyke had a quick look at his watch. ‘Well, it is late…’

‘That’s settled, then.’ She was smiling. ‘I’ll go next door and light the fire.’

While Sarah Scott cooked a dinner of stewed vegetables over the fire, she told him that she’d grown up in the area; that her father had been a farm labourer and her mother had been what was known as a cunning-woman. This, she said, was someone who was believed to have the power to heal the sick, tell fortunes, induce love and ward off evil spirits. She said it in a way that suggested to Pyke she was, at best, ambivalent about such claims. After dinner, though, when she was visited by successive guests, it was clear that they deferred to her in a way that required explanation. She said some people in the colony had known her mother and believed that she had inherited some of her mother’s powers. Afterwards Sarah managed to turn the conversation back towards him, and to his surprise Pyke found himself telling her about Felix and about his wife, Emily. She must have sensed his unease because she then asked why he’d decided to become a police detective. Pyke tried to explain the simplicity of his decision: he enjoyed the work, the challenge of it. When she asked him whether he felt that the law was fair, he just laughed. Perhaps it was the cider she’d poured for him, but he felt comfortable in her presence. Once they’d cleared away the bowls, they brought their chairs closer to the fire.

‘You don’t believe in magic, do you?’ she said, sipping the sweet, strong liquid from a clay pot. Her tone was playful rather than accusing. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not offended.’

Pyke smiled. ‘To be fair, there were moments when I could hear the scepticism in your own voice.’

‘Really?’ Sarah Scott seemed intrigued to hear this. ‘Maybe you’re right. It’s a force of habit. Self-protection. And maybe I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of lunatic.’

‘I suppose I tend to believe that most things have a rational explanation.’

‘You know, most folk around here would rather come to me if something of value has been lost or stolen than go to the local magistrate.’

‘And how would you assess your record as a retriever of lost or stolen goods?’

‘Honestly?’ She giggled. ‘I think they would have fared better with the magistrate. I do tell people this.’ Her expression became serious. ‘I never charge anyone money and I won’t deal with anyone I don’t personally know.’