THE ROOTS OF FEAR

Next morning it was obvious to me Bell had not slept much better than I. But he still ate breakfast, though I had little stomach for it.

‘He has what he sought, whatever it may be,’ I said. ‘If that is the case, will he not now be far away?’

‘Yes,’ said Bell. ‘I have considered the same possibility and if you are right it is a gross failure on my part. I am coming to understand several aspects of this case, some of which are mere dressing. But I never dreamt Harding had given Ellie Barnes the rune. It must have been in the house with her and it explains her fear. Yet until we know more we must not give up hope. Indeed,’ he thought for a moment, ‘the nature of the business makes me inclined to think there are still grounds for hope.’ This did not give me great reassurance but I said nothing.

Langton, too, was not in the best of moods when he joined us after breakfast. There was some delay in getting any help to him from Scotland Yard and meanwhile word of Ellie Barnes’s death was spreading rapidly throughout Dunwich and its surroundings.

‘Of course we have not divulged details but the rumours are racing,’ he said grimly, as we sat in the small sitting room. ‘That she died a witch’s death at the hands of her familiar, or was punished by the victim of her spells. There is real fear here now.’

‘Which is precisely what is intended,’ said Bell. ‘It was done for effect.’

‘So you do not suppose this was done out of some fear of witchcraft?’ asked Langton.

‘Certainly not,’ said Bell. ‘This was not caused by fear, it was done to create it. And if we are not very careful it may succeed. Now I urgently need a sample of Harding’s handwriting. I am sure Sir Walter Monk will have some, for Harding was his employee.’

Langton agreed, allowing Bell to keep the letter in the meantime. ‘For until they send someone, I will be glad of your help.’

‘Thank you, Inspector,’ said Bell. He leant back in his chair, looking at Langton. ‘Now I do not wish to show ingratitude but I suppose I must ask you about Stoneleigh Street.’

I have never seen a man’s jaw drop quite so far and so fast. Langton went pale too and stared back at Bell with quiet anger. ‘Well, did you know before or have you been enquiring?’

‘I thought I recalled your name,’ said Bell brightly. ‘And a day ago I refreshed my memory with the help of some newspaper cuttings and other material which Inspector Miller kindly sent. I thought it was time to bring it out into the open.’

‘Why?’ Langton asked fiercely. ‘For if you enquired you will be aware no charges were ever brought against me.’

‘Indeed,’ said Bell, ‘but it was thought prudent for you to leave the Yard and London.’

‘And so I did, but it has no bearing on anything now,’ Langton asserted.

‘You were accused of breaking up a gambling den after receiving bribes from some of the men who were its customers and had large debts. Once the place was closed, they were clear of these debts, is that correct?’ Bell said.

Langton sighed. ‘Yes, and there was not a word of truth in any of it. The place was cheating everyone who crossed the threshold and that rumour was their way of paying me back for exposing it,’ Langton said.

‘I understand that was the conclusion, but I raise it for one reason: one of those who benefited was Oliver Jefford.’

Langton looked at him, somewhat sheepishly. ‘You are a resourceful man, Doctor.’

‘Which means you knew him before he ever arrived here and you did not even tell us as much?’

‘I admit I had met him, yes. I admit also I did not want to have it all gone over again. But he was hardly a friend, we knew of each other, that’s all.’ Langton lowered his eyes under Bell’s fierce glare.

‘And did you see him when he was here?’ Bell asked.

‘I passed him here once or twice when I was about my business. We conversed a little but I never went into his house, I never sat down with him.’

‘And you did not meet his companions here?’ The Doctor was still staring fiercely.

‘Of course not, that would have been something to report. I did not.’ Langton clenched his fist. It was obvious he disliked these questions.

‘But you knew his friends and associates in London?’ the Doctor pressed.

‘Not at all. Apart from that business we were hardly in the same circle. And if you are curious about his Stoneleigh associates, it is a matter of record.’

‘Yes,’ Bell sighed. ‘I have consulted that record. It is, I will admit, inconsistent. But I understand, too, you have had a guest from London in your home.’

‘You are the devil himself,’ said Langton, his head bobbing. ‘I am free to do so if I wish. It was only a cousin of mine who is a clerk and wanted some rest. He is gone now.’

‘Yes, I am aware. And we can move on but we may return to the business in London one day and I wished to bring it into the open merely because you had not spoken of it before, which made me somewhat suspicious.’

‘It was perhaps foolish of me to think I could evade it with you, Doctor. I hope we can now return to being allies, for there is no question we have a murder to solve.’

‘That is my hope too,’ said the Doctor, getting to his feet. The conversation was closed.

For the rest of the morning, rather to my surprise, Bell was not out on the scene but busying himself with telegrams and, of all things, an interview with Norman’s son Tommy, so I went in search of Charlotte Jefford. I was not surprised to learn she was with Mrs Marner so, not wishing to intrude, decided to have another look at the ground.

Outside it was still bitterly cold but the snow had not lain and the sky was clear. I was turning down to the beach when I encountered Angus Hare, Bulweather’s partner, who hailed me and came over to talk.

‘Dr Doyle,’ he said, ‘this is a dreadful business about Miss Marner’s maid. I am spending my time today consoling people. You know Edward Norman is in quite a state about the whole thing. He says Bell has been intimidating his son. Who could possibly be behind all this?’

I was not so surprised to hear of Edward Norman’s state, especially when I recalled how he had constantly denied the seriousness of these events and talked of ‘little’ mysteries. He was exactly the type of man who refuses to acknowledge unpleasant truths and then panics when they become inescapable.

‘Dr Bell has experience of such matters, as your partner will tell you,’ I said as calmly as I could. ‘I have hopes he will come to an answer.’

‘Well, I for my part have hopes it is soon,’ he said. ‘For it seems to me this place has not benefited from any of its new visitors in recent weeks. I will bid you good morning.’ And in this rather hostile manner he went on his way.

It was not a very auspicious start to my investigations and indeed the day went on as it had begun. I paced the beach but found no one and saw nothing. I trudged back up to Harding’s little hut, now occupied by another labourer, but again there was nothing at all to see. I began to feel like a fool and would have gone in to visit Bulweather, except it seemed much more likely than not he would be out. And so I returned to be told Bell was asking for me in his room.

I found him there, staring down at something on his table. ‘Where have you been?’ he said. ‘This was sent over and I find it most interesting.’

Before him on his table was the original note and a letter Harding had written in connection with some purchase on behalf of the estate. Bell had his magnifying glass out and was studying them eagerly.

‘You see,’ he said, allowing me to look. ‘It is not exactly the same writing, how could it be? But it is a good copy. Someone went to the trouble of making a fair facsimile of Harding’s hand. He is good on the “e” and the “m” yet see how the “g” gives him away.’

Even without the aid of the enlargement, I could see exactly what he meant. There were good copies of many of the letters but the “g” was entirely different, smaller and without a loop. And, as Bell showed me, the “h” too was deficient. I knew that Cream had the ability to do this, for experience had shown us he was adept at disguising and varying his handwriting if he wished it.

So I supposed it was progress, but already two and probably three people were dead and I was beginning to feel we were being laughed at. Was he watching us, stumbling around in search of him? My mood was not improved when the Doctor announced he had once again to travel to Lowestoft today and that he wished me to accompany him.

‘But where is he?’ I cried. ‘Even if he is still here, he seems to be able to act with impunity, while we move around the periphery of things.’

Bell put the letter away, showing no offence whatsoever at my outburst. ‘Yes, we are having to clear the way to him. He has put a number of obstacles in our path, some clever, some foolish, but we must not be distracted, we must be methodical. My belief is he remains here, for I am sure the rune is connected to something here. So we continue our work.’

‘If only,’ I objected, ‘it was more rewading. You send telegrams and talk to a child who strangles birds. While I walk empty beaches. And what if it is nothing to do with him at all? After all, we still have no direct proof other than a possible sighting and some coincidences.’

‘More than one, Doyle. It would seem our positions are still reversed. Do you not feel him here?’

I did not reply. The truth was these deeds did bear his stamp, but I found it hard to endure the fact he still seemed to be ahead of us in all of it. And to know also that others in this place could be harbouring him.

‘And as for the child who strangles birds,’ said Bell. ‘You may be interested to learn it was the most eventful meeting I have had. I learnt more that was truly important about the case from him than anyone else I have met.’