Andrew Pepper - The Detective Branch

‘And the rest?’

‘I was frightened of you.’ Felix stared down at his hands. ‘Scared of what you’re capable of.’ He raised his eyes to meet Pyke’s. ‘A part of me still is.’

‘You know I’d never hurt you.’

‘That’s not what I mean. I lie awake at night and think about the things you’ve done, things I’ve seen with my own eyes, and I start to tremble and sometimes I can’t stop.’

Pyke fell to his knees. It was like someone had reached inside him and scooped out his insides. ‘And that’s why you started to read the Bible?’

‘It became something I wanted to do for myself.’ He paused. ‘I hated you for a while. I’d while away the days, imagining what my life would be like if I had a different father. That’s why I turned to Uncle Godfrey. It’s why I picked up the Bible. I wanted to get as far away from you as possible.’

Pyke couldn’t bring himself to look up at his son. He felt the shame wash over him. ‘I never knew…’

‘You never asked.’

The next morning was clear, and this time it was Pyke who arrived first at their bench in Golden Square. Jack Whicher was a few minutes late and sat down next to him wordlessly, taking a moment to catch his breath. ‘I looked into that thing you asked me to,’ he said finally. ‘I’m told the Fourteenth Dragoons have their headquarters near Ely. I plan to go up there later today.’

‘Thank you, Jack. I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me, and the investigation.’ Pyke’s mind was still on the conversation he’d had with Felix and how he could have been a different father.

‘They found the coroner’s body,’ Whicher continued. ‘Someone had buried it in a shallow pit in Deptford. Wells has taken charge of the investigation.’

‘I don’t suppose it changes much, does it? I mean, we both knew the man wasn’t long for this world.’ The porter who had found Hogarth’s body would doubtless be buried in another pit.

‘I heard yesterday that Ebenezer Druitt has been transferred back to Pentonville.’

Pyke thought about the last time he’d seen Druitt; battered and chained to the wall like an animal. ‘You think he told them anything?’

Whicher shrugged.

‘I still think he knows the identity of the man we’re looking for,’ Pyke added.

‘Luke Gibb?’

‘I’d say so.’

‘The question is, how might Gibb and Druitt know each other?’ Pyke stared up at the dull, grey sky. ‘If one or both of the Gibb brothers went to see Malloy at number twenty-eight Broad Street, perhaps they’d heard something about Morris, a rumour purporting to his innocence. Perhaps they felt a need to consult Malloy. After all, he had tried to exorcise spirits from their half-brother. Maybe they trusted him and thought he knew something that might help prove Keate’s innocence. They could have met Druitt then. Or Druitt could have heard about Keate’s death through Malloy and been intrigued.’

Whicher seemed bemused. ‘Whether Gibb knows Druitt or not isn’t going to help you, though, is it?’

That made Pyke smile. ‘What would help me is if Palmer, Russell and Pierce were rounded up into an iron cage and dropped into the middle of the sea.’

Whicher sat bolt upright, suddenly alert. ‘You’ve just reminded me of something. You know I said that Palmer had become a virtual recluse?’

Pyke looked at him and nodded.

‘I heard yesterday about a banquet that is being held in his honour. Wild horses wouldn’t keep him away.’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘The Guildhall.’

‘When?’

‘Early next week.’

‘If Palmer is too well guarded in his house, perhaps whoever we’re looking for will try to move against him then.’

‘Whether or not you’re right the police presence will be enormous. The prime minister is due to attend. The City of London force is asking us for two hundred additional men,’ Whicher said, raising his eyebrows.

‘And this will be Palmer’s first public engagement in a month?’

‘More than a month.’

‘However many policemen there are, Palmer will be vulnerable in a place as large as the Guildhall. He’ll be aware of that, too.’

‘But is he really in danger?’

Pyke shrugged. ‘He certainly seems to think so, or someone does. Why else bother to make such elaborate security arrangements?’

They sat for a moment in silence, watching the traders sell their wares. ‘I forgot to say, Wynter’s back in the city. Wells told us that two constables have been assigned to watch his house.’

‘Did he say why? I mean, it’s not typical, is it? An archdeacon having to be guarded by two policemen?’

That drew a meagre smile. ‘He just said that these are extraordinary times.’ Whicher pushed himself up on to his feet. ‘If I have to go up to Ely today, I may not be back in time for our meeting tomorrow. Why don’t you come to my apartment tomorrow evening, say around six?’

Edmund Saggers was eating a lunch of roast venison in the Cheese on Fleet Street; he saw Pyke out of the corner of his eye and put down his knife and fork, waved him into the alcove where he was sitting. ‘It’s good to see you, old chap,’ he whispered, looking around to make sure no one was watching them. ‘That’s right. Just keep your hat pulled down over your face and sit with your back facing the room. We’ll be safe for a few minutes.’ His face was wet with excitement. ‘I won’t be so vulgar as to ask for your side of the story now but I do want an exclusive at some point. Whether they hang you or not.’

‘Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour.’ Pyke looked down at the remains of the venison haunch. ‘Or your appetite.’

‘That was quite a trick you pulled at the courthouse. I wish I could have been there to see it for myself.’

‘Much as I’d like to chat, there are more pressing matters at hand.’

‘Such as?’

‘Such as, I was wondering whether you’d got any farther with your investigations into the matter we discussed.’

‘Funny you should mention it, old chap. I spent a rather revealing afternoon in the land registry office the other day. In the last five years, Palmer’s construction company, Palmer, Jones and Co., has sold quite literally hundreds of properties all over London to the City Corporation.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, that’s pretty much the sum of it, at the moment.’

‘I take it Palmer, Jones and Co. hasn’t always been so well endowed with properties to sell.’

‘That’s just the thing. I didn’t have time to conduct a particularly thorough search but in all the sales I looked into, the City Corporation was always the buyer.’ He looked up at Pyke, not quite finished. ‘And the previous owner was almost always the same too.’

‘Let me guess. The Church of England.’

Saggers seemed disappointed that Pyke had already guessed this. ‘Well, not exactly. A company wholly owned by the Church of England called City Holdings Consolidated.’

‘So this company, City Holdings Consolidated, has sold hundreds of properties to Palmer, Jones and Co. in the last few years and Palmer, Jones and Co., in turn, has sold them on to an arm of the City Corporation.’

‘Exactly.’

‘But we don’t yet know what kind of money changed hands on each occasion, and who turned a profit.’

‘That’s right,’ Saggers said, leaning as far across the table as his girth would permit. ‘As far as I can see, there’s nothing illegal about any of these transactions. I mean, they’re registered with the appropriate bodies.’

‘But what we don’t know is how this company, City Holdings Consolidated, came to own these properties in the first place.’