Andrew Pepper - Kill-Devil and Water

Felix listened to what Pyke had just said and nodded. ‘If in doubt,’ Pyke said, ‘try to imagine what your mother might say about whatever it is you’re about to do.’ He hesitated. ‘Or Jo.’

Jo brought in the scrambled eggs and the three of them chatted about inconsequential things for almost an hour. Their peace was disturbed by a rap on the front door and Copper’s subsequent barking. Harold Field stood on the threshold, tapping the ground with a bamboo cane. Behind him, his assistant, Matthew Paxton, waited by the carriage. Field didn’t wait to be invited into the house and made straight for the dining room. Copper growled but let Field walk past him. Without being asked, Field took the chair next to Felix and showed the lad his snuff-box. Felix inspected it without much interest. Field was smartly attired in a blue frock-coat, cream waistcoat and cravat and grey trousers, and his whiskers had been buffed with a reddy-brown oil.

‘Quite a delightful family you have here, Pyke,’ Field said, smiling.

‘Perhaps we could talk in the front room. It’s quieter and more private.’

Field looked at him and then at Felix and whispered, ‘I suspect I’m being quarantined. But it was nice to make your acquaintance.’ He picked up his snuff-box and followed Pyke into the other room.

‘I can see you’ve been back in the country long enough to find suitable accommodation,’ Field said, casting his eye around the unfurnished room. ‘But, it would appear, not long enough to pay me a visit.’

‘How did you find out where I lived?’

Field wandered across to the bay window and looked down on to the street. ‘I won’t make a secret of it. You were seen by Paxton yesterday. He followed you back here and passed the address to me.’

Pyke considered this for a few moments and walked across to join Field at the window. On the front step, Matthew Paxton was smoking a pipe. Alerted by Pyke’s presence in the bay window, he looked up. Field had brought two other men with him but they were waiting by his carriage. ‘What do you want?’

Field turned around and studied Pyke, as though disappointed in him. ‘I’m sorry to hear you adopting such a tone. I thought the two of us had come to some kind of understanding.’

‘All I meant was that I’m surprised that a man with your responsibilities has the time to pay me a courtesy call.’

That seemed to appease him. ‘I was in the area and was wondering whether you happened to have come across Elizabeth Malvern on your travels.’

Pyke’s face remained composed, his voice measured. ‘No, I’m afraid I didn’t.’

‘No?’ The surprise in Field’s voice seemed genuine.

‘Her brother hadn’t seen her for a couple of years.’ Pyke hesitated. ‘Either she didn’t arrive…’

‘Or?’

Pyke folded his arms. ‘Like I said, I don’t know where she is.’

‘Did I suggest that you did?’ Field’s stare was cold and piercing. ‘It’s just a little strange, don’t you think? Impeccable sources assured me that she had made the journey, after all.’

Pyke remained silent but turned and walked across to the fireplace. He didn’t want Field to see that he was lying. ‘On a different subject, did Bessie Daniels come home in the end?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware.’ This time, Field had to look away, apparently uneasy for the first time.

‘Not as far as you’re aware?’ Pyke tried to swallow but his throat was dry. ‘Do you mean you haven’t actually looked into the matter?’

‘I’d be very careful about the tone you take with me, Pyke.’

But this time Pyke couldn’t help himself. ‘You mean to tell me you paid this woman to spy on an extremely dangerous individual and you haven’t made any effort to make sure she’s safe?’

Field took a few steps away from the window. ‘Now you’re starting to talk like a dead man.’

Unable to hold his tongue, Pyke continued. ‘If you’re too brazen or self-interested to look out for her, perhaps I should see what I can do.’ He hesitated but didn’t look across at Field. ‘Where does, or should I say did, she live? Any family?’

He saw the blood rise in Field’s neck and face until even the tips of his ears were crimson. In fact Field seemed too upset to speak and for a moment Pyke feared for his safety.

‘I’m sorry.’ This time Pyke held up his hands, by way of an apology. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just I’m concerned about Bessie. I blame myself more than I blame you.’

That seemed to calm Field down a little. ‘Lord, Pyke, if you hadn’t just apologised I’m not sure I could have let you live.’ He shook his head as though the prospect of taking Pyke’s life actually bothered him.

They stared at one another without speaking. Field went back over to the window and indicated something to Paxton.

‘I have to go.’ He walked past Pyke but stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. ‘In answer to your question, I believe it was Eliza Craddock who sold her to Crane. If you remember, I solicited the woman’s assistance after she’d been sold to Crane.’

Pyke absorbed this statement. ‘You mind if I pay her a visit, see if she’s heard anything?’

‘As long as you don’t mention my name I don’t care what you do.’ Field was poised to depart. ‘And if you do find Elizabeth Malvern, you will let me know, won’t you?’

Pyke nodded.

On the front steps Matthew Paxton waited for Field to pass and then looked up at Pyke, a crooked smile passing across his lips.

‘I remember her,’ Eliza Craddock said carefully. ‘Nice lass but ugly. She had this nasty hare-lip. I used to put her in the darkest room so the men wouldn’t see her face and complain to me afterwards.’ She was sitting at the same table where Pyke had found her before, her bulbous arms resting by her sides.

‘When was the last time you saw her?’

‘I’d say a few months ago now.’

‘Why did she leave?’

A noise came from somewhere in the brothel and Craddock looked behind her, then turned back to face him. ‘What did you say?’

‘I asked why she left.’

‘Can’t recall.’ She flashed him a toothy grin. ‘Gals come and go, can’t do nothing about it.’

Pyke closed his palm slightly and slapped her hard across the face. The suddenness of his actions and the force of the blow caught her unawares.

‘You’re an acquaintance of Jemmy Crane, aren’t you?’

When she didn’t answer, Pyke kicked away the table, grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back against the wall. ‘You sold Bessie to him, didn’t you? He wanted a girl, someone you didn’t particularly need, and the two of you agreed a price.’ Pyke squeezed his hand tighter around her flabby neck. ‘How much was it?’

Craddock’s face had turned white and her eyes had almost doubled in size. Pyke didn’t just want to strangle her; he wanted to tear out her throat. But at the last moment, he let go and watched her slide down the wall on to the floor, like a pool of water, holding her throat and gasping for air.

Bending over, he slapped her hard across the cheek once more and whispered, ‘Do you know where she is now?’

‘No.’ But this time she didn’t hesitate; he could smell the fear on her rancid breath.

‘Don’t lie to me.’

‘I’m not,’ she spluttered. ‘After that day, I never saw her again.’

‘Do you know what Crane wanted with her?’

‘Something about copperplates, I think, but I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell me. None of my business.’

‘How much did he pay you?’

‘Five guineas.’ Even she seemed ashamed of the paltry fee.

It took every ounce of self-control for Pyke not to pummel her face into a bloody mess.