Deryn Lake: Death and the Black Pyramid

‘Depends.’

‘Do you know the local Constable?’

‘Why, you in trouble then?’

Without moving from his seat, John gripped the boy’s ear and twisted it. ‘That will be enough of your backchat. Answer me. Do you know the local officer of the law?’

‘Yes, I knows him,’ the boy answered, rubbing the side of his face and grimacing.

‘Well, can you tell me where I can find him?’

‘All you have to do is go to his house.’

John was getting angry. ‘If I knew where that was I would.’ He gripped the ear again. ‘Do you want this coin or don’t you?’

‘Yessir. I wants it. He lives halfway up the High Street in a two-storey cottage. I don’t know the number — and I swear that’s the truth, Sir.’

‘Very well.’ John let go of the ear and handed over the coin. ‘Now I’ll have the ale if you please.’

He sat consuming it, trying to plan what he should do next. He had seen all the men who had travelled down to Exeter with him — namely the Black Pyramid, Nathaniel Broome, Cuthbert Simms and Martin Meadows — and two of the women. But Paulina Gower and Fraulein Schmitt still eluded him. He vaguely recalled that Paulina had mentioned the theatre in Exeter and determined to take Elizabeth there soon. But that left the abominable German woman. Where was she and who could possibly be putting her up? Or perhaps, indeed, she lived here. Steeling himself against the thought of trying to question her, John finished his ale.

And then there was one of those extraordinary twists of fate that people say never happen. The door of the inn opened and in walked the Constable himself. He ran his eyes swiftly over the people within and John felt them coming to rest on him. He had the impression of a small, dark bird-like man with a pair of black eyes that could possibly be very frightening indeed, and then the constable made his way towards him.

‘Well, well. We meet again, sir. How have you been keeping?’

‘Very fine, thank you.’ He motioned the man to sit down. ‘I’m glad you’ve come in because I was just about to call on you.’

‘Oh really? And why would that be?’

John thought rapidly and decided to reveal his interest to the intelligent being sitting opposite him. ‘Have you heard of Sir John Fielding?’ he asked.

‘Would that be the magistrate in Bow Street? The blind one?’

‘It would indeed.’

‘Ah,’ said the constable, and relapsed into an expectant silence.

‘Years ago,’ stated John, ‘there was a murder in Vaux Hall Gardens. I was a suspect but somehow I managed to convince Sir John — he was plain Mr Fielding in those days — of my innocence. Indeed he asked me to help him solve that case. And I have been working with him on and off ever since. To be honest with you I enjoy the challenge.’

The Constable shot him a look of wry amusement. ‘I doubt you would if you were at it day in and day out, Sir.’

‘You have a point there. But regardless of that there is something I have to tell you about the murder of William Gorringe.’

‘Oh? And what might that be?’

‘That he feared some fellow passengers on the coach. He told Mr Meadows that he felt threatened.’

‘By whom?’

‘The Black Pyramid, the bare-knuckle fighter, for one.’

The Constable sat silently for a moment or two, then he said, ‘That is very interesting indeed, Sir. It corroborates Meadows’s statement to me.’

‘At the time he believed that the man was suffering from delusions, in fact he asked me about the condition. But now it appears that Gorringe was speaking the truth.’

‘So it would seem. I have made some enquiries about him and it seems that he is not from round these parts.’

The potboy appeared, somewhat late in the day, and grinned rather sheepishly at John.

‘This is the Constable, Sir. May I get you another pot of ale?’

John turned to the man.

‘If it is all the same to you, Sir, I’ll take a small glass of canary.’

‘Of course. And I will have a refill.’ He held his empty tankard out to the boy. ‘I am Tobias Miller. Known to the world in general as Toby.’

He grinned in a friendly manner but the Apothecary had the feeling that behind the smiles lay a brain like a vice. Nor were the dark eyes readable, completely shuttered from all outside penetration.

The drinks arrived and the Constable downed the glass of bright yellow liquid. ‘And now, sir, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Certainly.’

‘You say that you had never met Mr Gorringe before?’

‘Definitely not. In fact I did not see him until we stopped for breakfast at some unearthly hour in the morning.’

‘I see.’ There was another long silence, then Toby said, ‘So is it your belief, Sir, that one of the fellow passengers did away with him?’

‘It certainly looks that way. That would be my instinct.’

‘I think you’re probably right. The man had no friends or relatives in the West Country that I have so far discovered. But if that were the case — that he was murdered by another passenger — it would suggest a certain amount of premeditation.’

‘It occurs to me that they must have discovered which coach he was travelling on — which is practically impossible.’

Yet again Toby was silent, then he said, ‘Not if someone tipped the killer, or killers, off.’

‘That he was travelling to Exeter on a particular day at a particular time.’

‘Precisely.’ The Constable got to his feet. ‘Well, I must be off, Sir. It has been very pleasant meeting you. Where can I contact you again should I need to speak to you.’

‘At the home of Lady Elizabeth di Lorenzi. You know where that is?’

‘Indeed I do. Well, goodnight, Sir.’

And so saying Toby tipped his hat and walked out into the early evening.

As John rode home the sun was lowering in the heavens in a truly dramatic fashion. The sky had turned the colour of dragon’s blood and was drenching the clouds with the same vibrancy. Vivid tinctures coloured the earth and as John trotted forward he found himself looking round with a sense of awe. And then he saw a scarlet ribbon winding its way across the land and for a moment was startled before he realized it was a stream meandering down to join the Exe.

The Apothecary dismounted and knelt down by the water to drink, leading his horse to do likewise. As he scooped up a handful and drank it down he noticed that the stream was full of bubbles and his mind turned again to some experiments he had been doing on combining gases with water to produce a carbonated effect. Aware that there was another Englishman interested in the same principal, one Joseph Priestley, John determined that this winter he would work on his experiments tirelessly until he had discovered the secret of carbonating water. Refreshed, he remounted and made his way up the steep valley to where the house stood on the summit.

He was surprised to discover that Elizabeth had not only risen from her sickbed but was waiting impatiently for him in the blue drawing-room.

‘Ah, there you are,’ she said. ‘I am so glad you are back because I have arranged with Lady Thackeray to meet her at the theatre tonight. You have just time to change before we set off.’

‘What about dining?’

‘That will have to be a supper at home after the play, I’m afraid. Are you hungry? Because, if so, I can get some bread and cheese and pie sent up from the kitchen.’

‘No, I can hang on. I had rather a large luncheon with Sir Clovelly Lovell as it happens.’

‘Why am I not surprised by that remark?’

‘Because you are clever,’ said John, and kissed the top of her head as he made his way upstairs.

Half an hour later and they were stepping into Elizabeth’s finest coach and heading once more for Exeter. Leaning back against the beautifully cushioned interior John was vividly reminded of the minimum of comfort he had received on his journey down, particularly with Fraulein Schmitt moaning and groaning almost without cease. And this set his mind off at a tangent, wondering about the mysterious woman and where she had got to. He had meant to ask the Constable if he had had any luck in tracing her but somehow the conversation hadn’t gone down that path. Yet Tobias Miller was a bright and intelligent man and if anybody could locate the wretched creature it would be him.