23

‘WHERE DID SHE GO?’

‘I don’t know.’ Rosie flapped her arms like a fledging sparrow. ‘She told me she needed to consult the spirits and it might take a while. I thought she meant an hour. Later, I realised she’d taken the Blood Flower with her. We’ve looked everywhere I could think of. Mr Black’s still searching.’

‘I don’t understand. Is she intending to sell it?’

I was thinking of my sister-in-law’s impending eviction. Twenty guineas would pay her rent for the next couple of years at least.

‘No, she wouldn’t do that,’ said Rosie. ‘She has no head for money, and she believes the thing’s evil. I’m starting to wonder if she’s right.’

‘What are we to do now?’

I was feeling dizzy, so I sat on the bottom step of the stairs, leaning with my back against the door to the upstairs neighbours’ rooms. My suit was grey with dried mud, my cilice had rubbed my skin to a pulp, my hair was stiff with salt and I’d lost my favourite hat in the harbour.

Rosie sat beside me and examined the bridge of my nose where Fenwick had butted me.

‘Hold still. This will hurt.’ She tested the cartilage while I clenched my teeth and fists. ‘It’s not broken. I’ll get some Calvert’s.’

She went into the back room, came back with a bottle and a cloth and sat beside me.

‘This will hurt more.’ She dabbed the cut, and I almost cried out. When she’d finished, the cloth was pink.

I took a deep breath.

‘Do you still have that box with the pebble inside?’

Rosie blinked three times. ‘You can’t be thinking of going ahead with your plan? Without the Blood Flower?’

‘What choice do we have? If I can coax Quinton into confessing to the murders before he realises I don’t have it, then Sergeant Dorling can arrest him. He’ll never realise he was being fooled.’

‘But what if he doesn’t confess? What if he demands to see it?’

‘I’ll run.’ I had no other consolation for her. ‘This was always going to be a bluff. He thinks the stone’s worth a fortune when it isn’t. Now, it’s a bigger bluff, that’s all.’

‘That’s all? You’re going to get yourself killed and I won’t be close enough to stop it.’

We were still sitting side by side. Once again, I was reminded of being a child at the vicarage. On the rare occasions when my sister had committed a misdeed – sitting with her knees not pressed together or feeding Pilgrim from the table – she was made to sit on the step, and I, four years her junior and her supporter in all things, would sit beside her. I would not be gainsaid and screamed and hurled myself on the floor if denied. I could comprehend no other way to be; if she must suffer, so must I.

‘Not this time, Rosie. But if I don’t meet Quinton, we’ll never know for sure who committed those murders and he’ll go free. Plus, he’ll assume we’ve stolen his precious property and come after us. You, me and the children. I have to do this.’

She took my hand, which showed how much danger she thought I was in. ‘Do you have my ring with you, Leo?’

For a moment I feared it might have been lost in the water, but then I felt it in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and cleaned it with my sleeve before handing it to Rosie. She held it up briefly, turning it in the light, and then popped it on to her finger.

‘Thank you. I missed it when it wasn’t there.’ She twisted it round and round. ‘I made a mutton and date pie for us. We can have it together later.’

I didn’t know what to say. My heart was too full.

Peregrine burst in through the front door, whipping off his hat and drawing in a huge breath as if he were on stage and about to deliver a grand speech. Rosie and I leaned forward expectantly, but he sagged against the wall.

‘No sign, I’m afraid. I tried everywhere. Knocked up all the neighbours, but no one’s seen her. The fellow over the road suggested she might have gone through the veil to the spirits, but I think he was joking.’ He wiped his brow on the curtain. ‘What happened to you, laddie?’

‘Nothing of consequence. I have to go and meet Quinton now. Alone.’

He cracked his knuckles. ‘It doesn’t sit well with me, to stay out of things. But all right, I’ll watch from the road.’

Rosie stood up. ‘And me.’

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘But no closer than that. And regardless of what happens, you cannot intervene.’

At the roadside, Peregrine clapped me on the shoulder and Rosie gave me that rarest of things: a brief hug. She pressed the cigar box into my hand. I opened it, and it contained what looked like a bone. I looked closer, and it was a tooth, or a pair of teeth bonded together. She gave me a what-did-you-expect look.

‘I tried a pebble, a nut and a cotton reel, but they didn’t sound like a precious jewel rattling about. And I’d bought a sheep’s head from the butcher this morning, so … ’

I closed the box and put it into my jacket pocket. ‘Very well. I’ll try to sell a sheep’s tooth to a murderer for two hundred pounds. Why not?’

I didn’t look back at them as I took the concrete steps down to the beach. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to continue. This might be it, I thought. This might be the end of me. After fire and water and beatings, and all the sorrows and elations in between, these might be my last minutes. I felt as I had only felt once before: knowing that death was coming and yet prepared to face it. Every other time, it had chased me and almost caught me, but somehow I had wriggled free. But now I was walking towards it.

One last breath.

The pier loomed above me, a black shadow leading into the sea. Up there, another world was thriving, brightly lit and noisy with music and stallholders entreating their customers to come and play. Dice, dice, I could hear. Why not try your luck? Young couples were leaning over the railing, throwing bread into the air for seagulls to catch. I doubted they could see me. I was one more shadow amidst all the others: beach huts drained of their colour by the dusk, bathing machines hauled up above the tideline and fishermen’s dinghies upside down on the shingle, their chains trailing across the groynes.

I was about halfway down the beach when I saw two figures ahead of me, lit by the orange lights of the pier against the blue-grey expanse of the sea. One of them was a woman in a long frock, the hems of her skirts pulled clear of the wet ground, and the other was a stout gentleman in a bowler hat, who was turning from side to side, the very embodiment of impatience. I kept to the gloom, my eyes searching under the pier for the sergeant. He was there somewhere, I thought, waiting to spring out from between the metal struts and lumps of concrete.

Behind me, I heard a sound, a crunch of boots on the shingle. I turned, fearing Peregrine or Rosie had followed me against my instructions, but it was the beggar who’d stolen my bench a few nights before. He was wearing a mould-stained sweater reaching almost to his knees.

‘Can you spare a farthing, sir? I’d dearly like a bite to eat.’

I dug in my pocket and pulled out a twopenny bit. ‘It’s not safe here. Take this and go home, please.’

How ridiculous that sounded. His home was a bench. He skulked away towards the road, relieved, I supposed, to have an evening not battling with the seagulls for scraps.

I was within hailing distance of the two figures at the shoreline when I heard more footsteps behind me. I turned, ready to command the old boy to go back the way he’d come, when I realised it wasn’t him. It was Stephan.

‘Keep going,’ he said.

At the shoreline, Alice gave me the briefest of bows, holding my eyes long enough to prompt a fluttering in my chest. Quinton went to tip his hat but stopped, frowning at my appearance. Indeed, I was a mess, my suit stained grey and white with mud and salt, and my nose bruised and grown to the size of a bread roll. And I was exuding a stinking miasma that would embarrass Jack-the-bloody-dog. Quinton was, naturally, dressed immaculately in black boots, a pinstriped suit, a silk cravat and a bowler of exacting proportions. I felt like a scruffy jackdaw between a pair of elegant jays.

‘You’re late,’ he said, looking me up and down. ‘What the hell happened to you? Have you been swimming?’

I ignored his questions. ‘I told you this should just be the three of us. I was quite explicit about that.’

He was looking bored. ‘I don’t take instructions from anyone, least of all someone like you.’

‘I know you don’t trust journalists, but I’m very competent, I assure you. I do my research. I know you’re a killer.’ I glanced at Stephan, who had sauntered into the darker shadows under the pier and was perching on an iron crossbeam. ‘My friends know I’m here and who I’m meeting. You can’t hurt me.’

As I said it, I could feel the cigar box in my pocket, and imagined the sheep’s tooth inside. No, no, I told myself, you can’t do that. You have to believe it’s a ruby that could buy an army or a fleet of ships. If you don’t believe it, they won’t.

Quinton shrugged. ‘Don’t need to hurt you, do I?’ He pointed his finger at me. ‘You’re going to give me the Blood Flower anyway. Let’s get on with it and we can all get off this damned beach. I’m due a large whisky at the club.’

I couldn’t stop myself from peering into the blackness for a sign of Dorling. I knew he was a former military man. Perhaps he was more adept at camouflage than he was at police work. I had no choice but to assume he was.

‘There was a price, Mr Quinton. I explained it to Alice … to Miss Morgan.’

He turned towards her as if needing a reminder, though I was certain no such detail would have escaped him.

‘I did tell you, Thomas,’ she said, playing along. ‘Safety for him and Mrs Stanhope. And her sister … ’ She clicked her fingers. ‘I don’t recall her name. And a sum of money. I think it was two hundred pounds.’ She smiled in my direction, but it was a hollow thing, a bell with no ringer. ‘Was that everything, Leo?’

‘It was. A small price to pay for a ruby of this size.’

Quinton sniggered. ‘Two hundred pounds, a small price? It’s more than a year of your wages, I’ll warrant.’

Considerably more, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

‘My sister-in-law has lost a husband,’ I said. ‘You took him from her. She’s penniless now and I think two hundred pounds is the very least you should do.’

He blew out his cheeks and looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come here. You were right, Stephan. I should’ve gone straight to the club and let you deal with this. My inquisitiveness got the better of me, I confess. I had to see it with my own eyes.’

Stephan said nothing and I waited, feeling the thump of my heartbeat and listening to the gentle wash of the sea. This conversation wasn’t going as I’d expected. Why was Quinton quibbling over the money?

‘Do we have a deal, Mr Quinton?’

‘Miss Morgan here told me something very interesting about you. Unexpected, you might say, but definitely interesting.’ He looked at Alice. ‘Didn’t you, sweetheart?’

She kept her gaze out to sea, not meeting my eye. I couldn’t believe it of her. Surely, she hadn’t told him my secret.

‘I’m sorry, Leo,’ she said, hardly loudly enough to hear. ‘I didn’t have a choice. Mother told him you’d visited my house. It’s why … ’ She pointed to her bruised eye.

Quinton rubbed his hands together. ‘I don’t like my property being messed with, see. Another man enjoying the meal I’ve bought and paid for. That ain’t right. So, when I saw you mooning after Alice at the Hippodrome, well … I may have lost my temper. But then she tells me you’re really a female, and that’s altogether different. Girls will be girls.’ He examined me, top to toe and back again. ‘Wouldn’t have believed it before, but now … yes, maybe. Under that bloody awful suit there’s a cunny and a pair of dugs.’ He licked his lips, and I felt a shiver run between my shoulder blades.

‘Do we have a deal?’ I said again. I could hear my voice shaking.

‘No, we do not. See, there are a couple of problems with your proposal. First, a ruby that size would certainly be worth a lot more than two hundred pounds. But it’s not a ruby.’ His expression turned almost to one of pity. ‘I’m sorry, but did you seriously think I’d let Miss Morgan wear it around her neck in public if it was a real ruby? Not a chance. Christ, if she’d lost something of that value, I’d have left her by the bridge to bleach.’

I felt a creature clawing inside me, climbing up into my throat.

Alice’s mouth was hanging open, not, I suspected, because of his threat – she must have long ago become accustomed to his violent nature – but because he hadn’t thought her worthy of his confidence. He hadn’t told her the Blood Flower wasn’t a ruby.

‘You had it checked,’ I said.

‘Of course I did, as soon as I got my hands on it. I’m a businessman, not an idiot. That was a big disappointment, I can tell you. It’s a pretty thing, but it ain’t worth two hundred pounds.’

For some reason, my mouth felt so dry I could hardly force out any words.

‘You killed three people for it.’

He pointed his finger again. It was a habit with him.

‘Ah, you see, that’s the second thing. It was two people, not three. I’m a stickler for the numbers. I didn’t do nothing to your brother-in-law. If I’d found him, I’d have gutted him like a fish, much like I’m guessing you did – except I’d’ve done it while he was still alive. Then I’d have the Blood Flower in my possession, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But I didn’t find him or kill him, so I don’t owe his widow a farthing.’

The problem was that I believed him; not because I thought he was in any way trustworthy, but because it made sense. Of course he wouldn’t have let Alice wear the Blood Flower at the Hippodrome if he’d thought it was a real ruby. And that meant he’d known what it was worth when Bill was killed. Why would a man in Quinton’s position risk the noose for twenty-five guineas?

‘And Micky Long?’

Quinton shrugged. ‘I wanted the stone. I thought it was worth something then, didn’t know it was fake. But he didn’t have it. That molly-boy Honey had nicked it off him.’

‘You didn’t need to kill him.’

‘Well, I was in two minds, but my friend here gets pleasure from that kind of thing.’ He nodded at Stephan, who was as still as statuary. ‘He’s an artist. He’s got what you might call finesse.’

I shuddered. ‘And you killed Natalia La Blanche to get leverage over Honey. He would be hanged for her murder without your alibis.’

He angled his head in acknowledgement. ‘Very good, but not the only reason. Natalia La Blanche was a wastrel. Unreliable. She was talking about going to America of all places. I overheard her discussing it with Miss La La. She’s the real star and I didn’t want La Blanche putting ideas in her head. I’m planning to do the whole show about Miss La La and get rid of most of the others, the hangers-on.’ He spread out his hands, picturing the poster. ‘The African Princess! Jungle theme, with snakes and monkeys and such. There’s a lot of interest in that kind of thing these days.’

‘She’s not from Africa.’

‘Eh? Truly?’ His mouth twitched into a brief smile as if he thought I was joking. When he realised I wasn’t, his expression returned to its previous sourness. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter. Now you know it all and can’t prove any of it.’

I glanced in the direction of the pier. Where was Dorling? Surely, Quinton’s confession was sufficient, and about now, the sergeant should be springing out to capture his man. What the hell was he waiting for?

I had no choice but to stall for more time.

‘I still don’t know who murdered Bill Broadman.’

He sighed and gazed up at the blackening night sky. ‘This again? Damned if I know. Or care. Give me the Blood Flower.’

I pulled the box from my pocket and rattled it. His eyes followed the box. He hated to lose anything he considered his own.

‘It’s worth twenty-five guineas,’ I said. ‘But I’ll forgo a monetary price in exchange for the truth.’

‘Stanhope! I’m impressed. You knew what it was all along, and still attempted to con me out of two hundred pounds. Bravo.’

He started clapping, and Stephan joined in, his huge hands making a sound like gunfire on the empty beach. Alice seemed lost in thought, watching the distant dots of light on the horizon.

I thought I heard a sound from under the pier, a movement of stones. It could have been a bird or that old fellow again, but my better sense told me the tread was heavier and more deliberate: finally, Dorling was getting ready to pounce. Stephan heard it too and looked round, seeming uneasy for a moment before settling back into his previous serenity.

And yet, the sergeant did not appear.

Quinton held out his hand. ‘No more chit-chat.’

I could feel panic pinching at the soles of my feet and palms. A dash straight up the beach, I thought. That was my only chance. Take the steepest slope to make a disadvantage of Stephan’s extra weight and height. I swallowed and took another breath, shoving the cigar case into my pocket. Now or never.

Quick as lightning, I was gone.

I heard Quinton’s exclamation of rage and felt the swish of Stephan’s lunge as his fingers brushed my jacket. I pushed against the stones and felt them slip and slide under my shoes, until I fell forwards on to my hands, half-running, half-crawling up the beach towards the lights of the road.

I would have made it. I very nearly did. But I was unlucky. As Stephan dived forwards, his fingers grasped the very hem of my trouser leg. I fell, scrabbling with my hands against the shifting pebbles, unable to get any purchase. Stephan clawed over my body on his hands and knees, finally sitting astride me.

Quinton leaned down and pulled the cigar box from my jacket pocket. ‘That’s enough of that,’ he said.

I didn’t have much breath under Stephan’s weight, but I managed to gather enough for one last shout: ‘Dorling! Dorling!’

There was no reply.

Quinton peered at my face. ‘Oh dear, are you still hoping the brave policeman’s going to come and save you? The sergeant told me of your little plan right after you proposed it to him. He ain’t coming.’