Andrew Pepper - Kill-Devil and Water

‘ Worse? ’

‘I’ve just talked to the governor. He tells me he’s spoken with one of his directors — a man by the name of Trevelyan, Abel Trevelyan — who reckons he was contacted by Crane about a week ago. He’s ready to swear under oath that Crane came to him, in good faith, with news that an acquaintance of his, a sewer-man no less, had found a way of accessing the bullion vault from a tunnel running directly beneath it. So what happened today, at least according to Trevelyan, is nothing more than an exercise on Crane’s part, as a well-intentioned citizen, to demonstrate to the directors that the vault is vulnerable to robbers. Or worse still, to radicals.’

‘And they’re actually prepared to believe that?’

‘Trevelyan didn’t tell the governor about it, didn’t tell anyone about it, so he’ll have to resign his post. But the governor told me he doesn’t want to take the matter any further. From his point of view, it’s embarrassing enough that Crane and his accomplices managed to break into the vault. If they’re charged and the incident is made public, he’ll become a laughing stock. The Bank’s status and viability as a going concern depend on its absolute impregnability. The damage to its reputation would be incalculable if investors discovered that Crane was effectively able to walk into its most secure rooms.’

‘And what do the police think?’

‘I spoke with the commissioner of the City of London police a few moments ago. He’ll be swayed by the governor’s recommendation.’

Pyke felt the anger swelling up inside him. ‘You say Crane and the others have been taken to the police office at the Guildhall?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And the constables who took them there; you made sure they knew not to let anyone speak to or even approach Crane.’

‘I made that point as firmly as I could but the New Police doesn’t have any jurisdiction here.’

Pyke swore under his breath. Everything was starting to unravel. Crane might even be released in a matter of hours. ‘Have you talked to this man Trevelyan?’

‘The governor wouldn’t let me. Apparently he’s made a statement to the commissioner of the City police.’

‘Surely before they actually let Crane go free, they’ll need some kind of confirmation about the sewer-man?’

Tilling nodded. ‘That’s where Crane’s story is weakest. He says he doesn’t know where this man is.’

Pyke let this remark pass without comment.

‘But apparently Crane has suggested that, if and when he’s located, the sewer-man could make a statement to his lawyer, in front of a witness, to corroborate his story.’

‘Why not to the police?’ Pyke hesitated, thinking about Phillip Malvern. ‘And anyway, surely Crane’s in no position to dictate terms to anyone. If he knows where the man is, he should tell someone and have done with it.’

‘That’s why they took him away to the cells. For now. But I’d guess that if a credible statement is produced, that will be enough to ensure Crane’s release.’

Pyke gave this some thought. ‘The question is, how’s he going to arrange all this from inside his cell?’

‘Someone will have to come to him, but for the time being no one knows where he’s being held.’

‘Trevelyan knows.’

Tilling contemplated what Pyke had just said. ‘Go on.’

‘The story about Crane performing a public service is utter tripe. We both know it. We just need to find out why Trevelyan is willing to corroborate Crane’s story.’

Tilling scratched his head. ‘You think he’s been coerced into doing so?’

‘Crane’s smarter than I gave him credit for. He planned for this, for something going wrong. You’re right, I think he knew that Trevelyan would have to support his story.’

‘And lose his position at the bank in the process?’

Pyke shrugged. ‘What if he was a customer of Crane’s shop? Better to lose his job than be unveiled by Crane as some kind of sexual monster.’ He looked around the saloon. ‘Can you point Trevelyan out to me?’

‘I don’t think he’s here.’ Tilling’s gaze swept the room. ‘He’s been shut away in the governor’s chambers all morning.’

‘Can you at least describe him to me and find his address?’

That drew a heavy frown. ‘I won’t countenance any private action

…’

The man who’d waved to Tilling earlier had returned and was loitering as if he needed to speak with Tilling as a matter of urgency.

‘What if I could persuade someone close to Crane, someone he trusts absolutely, to go and see him and find out the whereabouts of the sewer-man?’

‘Could you do that?’

‘I might be able to.’

Samuel Ticknor was sitting at his desk in his private office, drinking a cup of tea, when Pyke pushed open the door.

‘How well did you know Elizabeth Malvern?’

Pyke’s sudden appearance in his office caused Ticknor to spill his tea. He tried to mop it up with the sleeve of his coat.

‘How much time did you spend in her company — when she volunteered for the Vice Society?’

This time Ticknor met his gaze. Pyke had to stop himself from jumping over the desk and grabbing the man’s throat.

‘I knew her well enough to see her for what she really was.’

‘Enough to remember what colour her eyes were?’

Ticknor removed his spectacles and blew on to the lenses. ‘Green. They were green, no question about it.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Quite positive, sir. Now will you tell me what this is all about?’

Pyke stood there, trying to hold himself together. Different thoughts collided with one another in his head. He saw it clearly now; suddenly everything had fallen into place — about Mary, Elizabeth, the Malvern family, even Lord Bedford.

‘I presume you know there’s a rotten corpse out in the yard?’ Godfrey said, as soon as Pyke had stepped into his basement shop.

‘There wasn’t anywhere else to put it.’ The previous day, he had pushed Bessie Daniels’ corpse on a costermonger’s wheelbarrow, hidden under a canvas tarpaulin, from Dowgate Hill to St Paul’s Yard. He’d told Godfrey he needed the keys to the shop, but not why he needed them. Now, clearly, his uncle had found out.

‘And how long were you hoping to keep it out there?’

‘Another day, two at most.’

Godfrey ran his hands through his bone-white hair and sighed. ‘I called at the house to see you. Jo told me the news. I don’t have to tell you what I think. You’re mad to let her go, a complete fool.’

‘I’m not letting her go. She’s leaving.’

Godfrey pushed his spectacles back up his nose and made a dismissive gesture towards Pyke. At times like this, he felt like more of a father than an uncle to him and Pyke hated disappointing him.

‘So who is it? I couldn’t bring myself to give it a proper look.’

‘Hard to tell for certain but I think it’s Bessie Daniels. I found this ring on one of her fingers.’ Pyke held up the amethyst ring for his uncle to see. ‘The woman in the copperplate you bought from Crane.’

Godfrey collapsed into his armchair, suddenly looking his age. ‘Jesus. Poor, poor girl. And to think…’

Pyke just nodded. His uncle was momentarily lost for words.

‘Who killed her?’ he said, after a while. ‘Crane?’

‘Looks that way.’ Pyke drew in a breath. ‘By tomorrow her corpse will be gone, I promise. But I have to do what I have to do. I hope you understand.’

‘To punish those responsible?’

Pyke nodded again. Godfrey stood up, walked over to the sideboard, took the decanter and poured himself a glass of claret.

‘I want you to talk to anyone who’s worked at Crane’s shop,’ Pyke told Saggers, after he’d found him in the Cole Hole on The Strand. ‘Be discreet but offer a financial inducement to anyone who’s willing to testify in court that a man called Abel Trevelyan was a customer there.’