Marcus Telferman had been my grandmother’s legal creature and now he was mine. He stared at me through gilt-rimmed half-moon spectacles and drummed his fingers on the desk. After a moment he looked down at the ledger between us and sighed. I caught irritation rather than regret in the tone of it.
‘We have been through this before.’ He tapped the page. ‘Come, there are other matters to discuss – many other matters. In the past weeks you have repeatedly ignored my requests for a meeting and yet now you arrive without prior warning. You are aware, are you not, that I cannot progress your interests without your assent? I am merely your servant. You must take control and, perhaps more pertinently, be seen to take control. There have been …’ he looked direct at me, ‘laxities. To be frank, I am disappointed in you.’
I folded my arms. ‘I asked a simple question, Mr Telferman.’
He sniffed and his spectacles hopped on the bridge of his long nose. A strand of oily grey hair unhooked itself from behind his left ear and dandled in front of his face. It quivered on his breath as he started to talk rapidly at me.
‘When Captain Houtman’s boat arrives tomorrow you will need to be ready. It is a new arrangement from a trusted source. The meeting will take place just after sunrise. The heft has been dealt with – two lascars have been paid to carry. I trust you will be in attendance. You need to take the measure of the man. The decision must be yours and yours alone. I say only this: I understand from my contact that there is likely to be a fat profit in any future transactions. The gin run offers a healthy return.’
He didn’t look up as he rattled on.
‘Houtman’s ship, the Gouden Kalf, will be berthed at Shadwell New Basin until the end of July. Some repairs to the machinery and the paddles are to be undertaken by the mariner smiths.’ Now he paused. His nose twitched and the little golden specs rose again. ‘The story of the Golden Calf is not favoured by my people. I do not understand why such a name should be used for a boat. There are some who might consider it a blasphemy.’ He ran an ink-stained finger back and forth over the words in the ledger as if it might rub them out.
‘I don’t see what’s wrong there.’ I quizzed at him.
The Beetle looked up from the page and peered at me through them spectacles as if I was something very small and very far away. ‘It is taken from the Old Testament, the Book of Exodus. I believe your own Bible refers to the “molten calf” – an image worshipped in idolatry?’
Of course, I knew it now. I reckoned there was a deal of ripeness to the fact he was sitting there giving me a lecture on the Ten Commandments, when the book open between us broke every one of them – and a dozen more old Moses hadn’t thought of.
If Telferman saw the joke he didn’t let on. There was a dry rustle as he rolled the tips of his thumb and first fingers together. ‘Then there are the items supplied by Madlock and his team. I have made arrangements for the gold to be smelted after-hours at the Whitechapel Foundry. The ingots will be marked by Selzman. He is the best, no questions will be asked. He has proved himself loyal in the past.’
The Beetle – that was me and Joey’s private name for Marcus Telferman, mostly on account of the way he crept about and for the sake of the sheeny black gear he wore at Ma’s funeral all them years back – ran a dirty nail down the list of names and figures in the ledger.
‘Madlock is good, but he has been so diligent in recent weeks that he may draw attention to you. I have asked him to wait for a month or so before sending the team west again. You agree?’
He turned the page without waiting for an answer.
‘Customs Officer Skimple informs me that a shipment of China silk and tea will arrive on The Windhover in two weeks’ time. The Redmayne warehouse at King Edward’s Stairs will be made ready. Your portion amounts to a little over a third of the whole. Skimple’s discretion is costly, but I am certain you will agree to the usual sum? Half in advance and half on delivery – he prefers coin. I will arrange it.’
The Beetle hooked the straggling hair back over his ear and scuttled on.
‘Mother Baxter’s house has been closed for a fortnight. Were you aware of that?’ He didn’t pause for my reply. ‘It was thought that one of her girls had contracted smallpox. Fortunately it turned out to be chicken pox, which, I understand, does not pit the skin severely. Trade will not be damaged, in the long term, but I think you would be wise to allow the women time to regain their … vigour. With your permission I will send word.’
He flipped the page.
‘And here we have the halls …’ He pursed his lips. ‘Perhaps I should use the singular. The Carnival appears to be satisfactory, which is something, but the work at The Comet will gnaw into the profits. You must make a decision on the future of The Gaudy. To rebuild would be a costly undertaking. The site, however, is of some value. Your managers Fitzpatrick and Jesmond do not rub along together, but they both have their value. You must make a team of them. Do you understand me?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Perfectly, thank you, but you don’t seem to understand me, Mr Telferman. Anyone would think I wasn’t talking London. I’ll try again. Where – is – she?’ I said the last three words loud and deliberate.
The Beetle slammed the ledger. Dust flew up around him, tiny flecks of it dancing in the sunlight doing its best to cut through the gloom. His front window hadn’t seen a cloth since the Charge of the Light Brigade.
‘Now, Katharine, there is another matter, something of troubling importance, I wish to discuss. Recently …’
‘No!’ I stood up abrupt. ‘Didn’t you hear me? I told you I want to see her!’ I planted my hands flat on the desk. ‘You will tell me where I can find her. I give the orders now, don’t I? I’m a Baron.’
Marcus Telferman didn’t blink. Fact is, he didn’t move at all. From the greasy strips of hair hanging down each side of his face to the faded brown eyes swimming behind the thick glass, he was still as a rat when a cat’s on its scent. Tell truth, the way he held his ground made me uncomfortable. After a few seconds had passed without so much as a twitch of an eyelid from him I sat down and clasped my hands in my lap. I felt like a child caught in a tantrum.
He watched me across the desk and I tried to imagine what he saw. My head still ached from the fever and my hair was limp and dark and plastered to my scalp. The girl staring back at me from the mirror this morning had rings around her eyes that didn’t come from a stick of lamp black.
After a moment the Beetle sniffed.
‘In most matters that is correct, Katharine. However, in all affairs relating to your grandmother I continue to take my orders directly from her.’
‘She’s still alive, then?’
Now he blinked. I could see him calculating whether he’d said too much, but he couldn’t take it back.
‘I believe that death, when it comes, will be a kindness.’
I almost laughed out loud at the thought of a kindness connected to Lady Ginger.
‘You’d better giddy up then, before it’s too late. Her address, Mr Telferman.’
‘We both know that is not possible. I can send a message to the effect that you wish to arrange a meeting and, if your grandmother is prepared to see you, she will reply in due course. That is the best I can do.’
‘If that’s your best it’s not bleedin’ good enough.’
The Beetle steepled his fingers. He was still trussed up like a mourner today. Despite the heat he had a broidered waistcoat on under a long black coat. The room was airless. It smelt of mouse, moth and something medical, which I put down to the preservation of the dead. On the mantle behind him a large pale bird, with eyes like golden marbles, spread dusty wings in a wide glass case. Of a moment I had the distinctive impression the wings were attached to Telferman, not the owl. The arrangement gave the Beetle the look of a shabby celestial. He patted his fingertips together three times. All the while he never took his eyes off me.
‘You will recall that she has made it very clear that her place of residence is not to be divulged – to you or to …’ Something flickered across his face, but he wiped his expression clean quicker than a mumper snatches a penny. ‘To speak plainly – I cannot tell you where she is. As her representative I am bound to respect her wishes. I am legally constrained in this – as, I might add, are you.’
I thought about his reply and sifted something out. I’d come back to that later. For the moment I was interested in the legals.
‘Constrained by what?’
Telferman’s eyes slid to a chest in the corner between the window and the marble mantle. There was another glass-domed case set on the top covering a bird the size of a crow. The creature was a comical thing with splayed yellow feet and a beak streaked three different colours. It was mostly black except for its white front and face where sad eyes marked out with dark lines put me in mind of a clown.
I nodded at the case. ‘I’ve never seen that one before. New, is it?’
He nodded. ‘The puffin is not native to London. In the far north its flesh is considered to be a delicacy among sea-faring people. It tastes of rotten fish, I am told.’
‘Why eat it, then? There’s not even any meat on the thing.’
‘I believe it is partly for the challenge.’ He rose and fiddled in his coat pocket. ‘The birds live in clefts high on rugged cliffs. It is dangerous to harvest them. I believe there is an element of bravado in their flavour.’ He stared at me. A muscle worked now beneath his left eye. ‘Bravery, Katharine, and defiance. It sweetens the taste.’
I looked from the puffin to the owl. Over to the left, high in the corner resting along the top of a half-open cabinet there was a shrivelled leathery creature with a gaping mouth. It wasn’t under glass.
Telferman didn’t much go in for housework. I could see more dust on its knobbled back and a cobweb strung out between its evil teeth. There were no eyes, just wrinkled hollows sewn shut with crude stitches. The crocodile – that’s what I took it for – was blind as Lord Kite. His lids weren’t sewn together, mind. Kite’s blank eyes were white and wet as milk. That night at Great Bartholomew’s, in the flicker of the candles, they put me in mind of silver pennies laid on a corpse.
Sweat crept under the collar of my dress. I reached up to pull it loose and opened the top button.
‘Why do you keep all these dead things around you?’
Telferman drew a ring of keys from his pocket and went to the dome containing the miserable puffin. Taking the base in both hands, he lifted it free and placed it gently on the bare stone floor. He jangled through the ring and bent to unlock the wooden chest. The threadbare seat of his breeches shone through the parting in his shiny coat tails.
‘As a boy, I had a great interest in the natural world.’ His voice was muffled by the wooden lid of the chest and by the rustle of papers as he rummaged about. The thought of the Beetle as a child was a new one. He continued to ferret among the documents while I digested the idea. It was as ridiculous as chewing on a puffin. Then again, the thought of Marcus Telferman with an interest in anything except papers and ribbon-tied contracts was hard to swallow.
‘Animals, is it? Why don’t you get a dog or a cat – something alive? If it’s birds you’re interested in, I’ve got a parrot I’ll gladly let you have.’
‘Jacobin lives? Remarkable.’ Telferman carried on delving. ‘A most vicious and disagreeable creature. You have my sympathies, Katharine. I never understood why The Lady … your grandmother was so fond of it.’
‘She can’t have been that fond or she wouldn’t have left it behind. It went for me this morning. I wouldn’t stand in your way if you sent it to the dermist.’
‘Ah, here.’ Telferman’s bones clicked as he straightened up. He turned to hand me a familiar document. It was the first paper I signed that day at The Palace when me and Lucca answered my grandmother’s summons. She was gone, but the Beetle had been waiting for us in the gloomy hall, a stack of ledgers at his feet.
I signed my soul away for Paradise that day.
I looked down at the close-packed script on the paper in front of me. My signature was at the bottom, the letters round and bold. If only I’d known then …
‘If I may bring your attention to a clause, halfway down.’ Telferman jabbed at the paper. ‘Just there. Her intentions are quite clear.’
I moved the sheet to catch more of the light struggling through the smeary panes.
The donor demands the right of privacy at all times. The signatory (as below) will not make physical contact or enter into correspondence with the donor except through channels appointed and good services rendered by the donor’s sole representative in this matter. The donor’s sole representative shall be Marcus Telferman, hereafter referred to as ‘the executor’.
The donor reserves the right to contact the signatory (as below) at any time or place or in any ways fitting to the purpose. The signatory (as below) accepts that she …
I read that line again. Despite the fact that the words were crammed tight as herring in a barrel, I could see the alteration. The word she had originally been he. The extra ‘s’ was scratched into a space so narrow it couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than an afterthought. I ran over the rest of the page – it was the same everywhere, most times not as plain.
I realised then that the deed of transfer – the document by which my grandmother had given me charge of Paradise and everything and everyone within its boundaries – had been drawn up for my brother. I always knew it was in her mind, she’d told me so herself. But I hadn’t realised how close she’d come to it.
Telferman moved nearer. Old moth bait caught in my nose. He ran an ink-stained finger down the paper. As he leaned over my shoulder the naphtha mingled with the scent of clove oil and grease from his hair.
‘Just here. Do you see, Katharine?’
I nodded slowly. ‘Very clear, now, thank you.’ I whipped around so fast he started back. ‘She was giving it all to him, wasn’t she? It was all ready – you’d drawn up the transfer. This was written for my brother, for Joey. It was never meant for me.’
The Beetle tried to snatch the paper from my hands, but I sprang up and moved out of reach. ‘I want some answers. What made her change her mind at the very last moment? I know she spirited Joey over to Paris to keep him safe from the Barons, but I don’t think anyone’s ever told me the real reason why. What’s my brother done to make Lord Kite hate him so much?’
Telferman brought a hand to his lips. It was a gesture of silence, as if the mere mention of that bastard’s name could summon him into the room with a flash and a shower of sparks. But I wasn’t going to button it.
‘I haven’t told you about my first meeting with the Barons at Great Bartholomew’s, have I?’
Telferman backed away, moving round to the opposite side of the desk, like there was a safety having it between us. He didn’t look at me as he answered. ‘As it has been so difficult to persuade you to attend to the affairs of Paradise, there has not been an opportunity to discuss the details of your …’ He faltered.
‘Do you want to know the details? How it went that night two months back?’
He pushed some papers around and still didn’t look at me. ‘Some things are best left to the competence of the Barons themselves, Katharine. It was always this way with your grandmother. My safety depends on my ignorance. I do not need to know the place. I do not need to know—’
‘I’ll tell you what you need to know.’ I took a step forward. ‘I acquitted myself well enough. I gave my report at their Vernal Court and I did it from memory. I had it all here …’ I tapped the side of my head. ‘Everything in Paradise – weighed and valued, right down to the last sparrow. I’ll give you credit for that because you helped me work it through – showed me what I needed to offer my first parable. Funny how they wrap everything up in Bible words – perhaps it makes it seem clean? Anyway, I put on a good show, just like she told me to. Christ! I was even pleased with myself when I finished up. Do you know what I thought?’
Telferman sat down heavily. He removed his specs and rested his forehead in one hand so I couldn’t see his face.
‘I thought it was easy – that’s what. I reckoned it was less trouble than hanging up there performing in that cage in the halls night after night. I actually felt safe. That’s the joke of it.’
There was a long silence while I waited for him to say something. After a moment he cleared his throat.
‘You returned, Katharine. You must have passed the test. Just as she knew you would.’ He still didn’t look at me. ‘I tried to dissuade her. I argued that you were little more than a child, but she said …’
Telferman clenched his fingers into a jagged bony fist – brown spots stretched across the skin of his knuckles. ‘When I changed the title document Lady Ginger told me that she was mistaken in your brother. She regretted it. She said that she had been foolish to trust him when you were the one with the mettle for the task.’
I thought of the moment when I sealed Danny into that pit. They’d tricked me into it, but I’d done it all the same. Was that the mettle she meant? My eyes stung, but I blinked back the tears. I certainly wasn’t going to spill over in front of the Beetle. I screwed the paper tight in my hands.
‘You knew too, didn’t you? You knew what was going to happen – not the detail, perhaps. But you knew they’d do something. You knew I wouldn’t come out of there the same girl who went in.’
He looked up now. Without the specs I could see his eyes clear. The thick lenses made them small as the head of a dress pin and sharp with it, but in reality they were large and sad with grey pouches slung beneath.
‘I have been waiting for this conversation. To be frank, I have thought of you often since the night of your … introduction to their number. Did they … hurt you in any way, Katharine? I can ask Dr Pardieu to call upon you, he is most discreet. He worked for your …’
‘For my grandmother, I know. As I understand it, the old crow was treating her for the canker before she went away. And the answer is no, they didn’t hurt me.’
Of an instant, an odd thought occurred. ‘Did they hurt her? My grandmother? Is that what you’re saying?’
Telferman shook his head. ‘Not in all the years I have served her. But she … In the past … In the early days when she was tested, as you have been, I believe that something—’ He stopped himself and stared up at the ceiling. It was heavily plastered in the old way with curling scrolls whipped to decorative points. It would have looked like a fancy wedding cake if it hadn’t been grey with cobwebs.
His eyes roamed around up there like he was searching for a place to hide.
‘Something what?’
He brought a hand to his mouth and pinched the fleshy bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger so I could see his lower teeth, both of them.
‘Go on – what happened to her?’
He shook his head. ‘I do not know.’ He saw the look on my face and raised his hands. ‘That is the truth, Katharine. I swear it on the faith of my father and his father before him. She never spoke of it to me, but she carried a shadow.’
‘Perhaps it was her conscience. You know how she ruled Paradise.’ I jerked my head at the window. ‘There’s not a man or woman out there who wasn’t terrified of her.’
‘She was a Baron. Having seen them, having heard them, having walked among them, can you tell me, truthfully, that you do not understand why she acted the way she did? She was one of them. I know very little of their … constitution, and I confess I am grateful.’ The muscle worked beneath his left eye. I saw the tic in the sallow skin as he stared up at me. ‘You, however …’
He faltered and reached for his specs. He knew he gave too much away without them. ‘You too are a Baron now.’
The only sound came from the clock on the mantle, dripping time like a leaky gutter. Another trickle of sweat slid down between my shoulders. I tugged again at the neck of my dress; it was so close in the room I could hardly get the air down.
Telferman didn’t move. The glass of his specs caught the sunlight so I couldn’t see his eyes.
I took a breath. ‘Lady Linnet – that’s the name they gave me. That’s who I am. And if you’re asking me what they’re like, I’ll tell you – they’re monsters, the lot of them. The things I heard that night when I became one of them, the things I saw …’
Danny.
I dug my nails into my palm to stop the tears. ‘If that’s what it means to be a Baron, I don’t want none of it. Here, you can take this back to her.’
I ripped the paper in two and flung the halves on the table. After a moment, Telferman reached out and carefully fitted them together again. I watched as he smoothed the frayed edges into place and flattened out the creases I’d made. The base of my spine prickled where the sweat collected in the sticky dip above the cotton waistband.
‘It’s not as simple as that, is it?’
He shook his head. ‘You were chosen. You accepted. And now you have become one of their number. There are two ways to end the … association. One is to choose a successor, as your grandmother did. The other is …’
In the long pause that followed, I understood what the other way was. It was a curse – what kind of woman could do that to her blood? I stared at the blind crocodile on the cabinet and thought of Kite’s letter. My brother was her blood too, but when it came to it she didn’t trust him.
‘I need to see her. She gave me a warning for Joey; much good it did because he didn’t listen. He came to London two months back and then he disappeared again. I learned a lot of things that night at Great Bartholomew’s, but I still don’t understand why Lord Kite—’
‘No!’ Telferman shook his head in alarm, but I went on, repeating the name slowly and deliberately.
‘… Lord Kite wants my brother. She must know why. Even if she didn’t trust Joey she cared for him enough to try to keep him away. But I have to know …’
I remembered the question that crossed my mind earlier when the Beetle was explaining that he couldn’t tell me where to find her.
She has made it very clear that her … place of residence is not to be divulged – to you or to …
Of an instant, I knew what he’d stopped himself from saying.
‘You’ve heard from him, from Joey! Don’t deny it. You nearly gave it away earlier. “Her place of residence is not to be divulged to you or … to your brother” – that’s what you were running to, wasn’t it?’
‘I cannot discuss this.’ Telferman folded the torn papers together.
‘But I am right, aren’t I?’
He rose and went back to the open chest. When he’d stowed the papers inside again he closed the lid, locked it and lifted the puffin in its glass dome from the floor. As he pushed it back gently into place he spoke quietly.
‘You asked earlier why I surround myself with the dead.’ He came back to the desk and stood opposite from me again. ‘There is a certainty in death. These creatures …’ he looked around the room at his mangy treasures, ‘will never surprise me or trouble me. I cannot say the same of your brother.’
‘So you know where he is!’
‘I do not. However, recently, I forwarded a message from Joseph Peck to your grandmother.’ The Beetle pushed his specs up to the bridge of his nose.
My heart started up under my bodice. ‘What did he say?’
‘I did not read it.’ The Beetle frowned. ‘Two weeks ago a woman knocked on my door and pressed a letter into my hands. It was sealed and addressed to Lady Ginger. I recognised your brother’s script.’
‘Why didn’t you bring it to me?’
‘Because the letter was meant for your grandmother.’ He sounded like a school master explaining a simple fact to a very dull child.
‘This woman, did she say anything?’
‘No. She turned and walked away without uttering a word.’
‘And you didn’t even think to mention this to me!’
Telferman raised an eyebrow. ‘As you have not responded to my messages – any of them – there has not been an opportunity.’ He swallowed and his prominent Adam’s apple made his collar ride up his neck. ‘You have clearly been … occupied. I am telling you now. Besides, it relates to the matter of importance I mentioned earlier this morning. Last week the woman’s mutilated body was fished from the Thames.’
‘What do you mean – mutilated?’
‘She had been tortured, Katharine. Her body had been ripped apart. It was most singular.’
The hairs rose on the back of my neck. I would have put it down to a draught in the room if it hadn’t been hot as a glass house gloryhole in there.
‘Singular? What’s that supposed to mean?’
The Beetle flicked at the edge of a ledger. ‘The newspaper report did not go into detail – and it is little wonder – but I have since learned more and …’ He faltered, clearly unwilling to say any more.
‘And?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Tell me.’
‘You do not need to know the detail.’
‘Tell me. It’s an order.’
Telferman cleared his throat. ‘The woman’s tongue had been cut from her mouth and forced into … a part of her body. Her left breast was found crushed into her mouth. There is more. Do you wish me to continue?’
I shook my head. I wiped my palm round the back of my neck. ‘But how do you know she was the one who gave you the letter?’
‘After I read the reports in The Illustrated London News I made discreet enquiries among the lightermen who found her. I am satisfied that the woman taken from the river and the woman at my door were one and the same.’ He opened a drawer to the left of his desk, dropped the keys inside and took out another book. ‘There cannot be many redheaded women in Limehouse who stand over six feet tall.’ He closed the drawer. ‘Now, I believe we have kept Mr Fratelli waiting outside in the hall for longer than is proper.’
As if he’d planned it, the mantle clock cleared its throat and chimed twelve times.
‘Do I have your assent to the interests we discussed earlier?’
‘You mean Madlock, Selzman, Skimple and Mother Baxter’s place?’
The Beetle nodded. ‘They are the most pressing matters. You will remember Captain Houtman too. The appointment is set. There is more here requiring your attention.’ He held the book out to me. ‘I have listed every trade, every arrival, every agreement and every debt agreed in your name since our last meeting.’ He paused. ‘You will need this information when you offer your parable at the Barons’ Aestas Court.’
I looked at the black cover of the book in his hand. It minded me of the ledgerstone closing slowly over Danny’s howl at Great Bartholomew’s. I snatched it from him and thrust it into my bag.
‘Aestas?’ I recognised the word from Kite’s note, but I didn’t know its meaning.
Telferman nodded. ‘Summer. The summer meeting of the Barons. You will be summoned in the usual way in the first days of August. You must be ready.’
He came round the desk to open the door. Out in the hallway Lucca stood up from the boot bench where he’d been waiting. The Beetle held the door wider. I took up my straw bonnet and hooked my bag over my arm.
‘I’ll deal with it. And I’ll deal with this Houtman too. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten – sunrise tomorrow at Shadwell New Basin. I’ll be there. You will write to her, to my grandmother, today – it’s an order. Ask her about Joey – ask her where he is.’
I thought about Kite’s note and that locket full of Danny’s hair.
‘How long will your letter take to reach her?’
‘I cannot tell you.’ The Beetle made a sweeping motion with his hand. He wanted me gone.
I clapped the bonnet to my head and tied the ribbons together. ‘Can’t or won’t? Is that part of the contract too?’
‘I can say only this: I will contact your grandmother on your behalf. I believe it would be judicious to do so. Whether she will reply …’ He paused and shook his head. ‘Whether she will be able to reply, that is a matter for a higher authority than even you, Lady Linnet.’