Muriel saw that Henry had been holding his breath. He exhaled slowly.
“Maybe he’ll get that promotion after all,” he said weakly.
“Perhaps,” Muriel replied bitterly. “Though I’d prefer to believe it would require the solving of the case.”
Henry stared at her. “We solved a great deal of it. Didn’t we?”
“We stopped Furness from continuing his work. We returned many of the people he abducted to their families. It’s something.”
“Then—”
“Are you honestly content with that, Henry? Cutting off the supply of victims to be used for similar purposes, temporarily?”
Henry rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I take your point. Furness didn’t actually kill anyone. Each of the deaths was caused by one or another of his clients. You’re right, Muriel. But you can’t expect me to lead that vendetta. I’ve provided the police with all the information I have. You saw Prentice’s response to your question about the Liberators. Furness made clear to you that his clients are all wealthy, and many hold positions of power. If they’re judges, or members of Parliament, or police chiefs… what hope can a lowly detective-constable-in-training have of bringing them to rights, let alone a private investigator?”
The edges of Muriel’s vision had become tinged with a pink fog that now began to creep towards the centre.
“I suppose that’s just the way of the world,” she said quietly.
Henry offered a faint smile. “I fear that it is.”
In that moment, Muriel hated him. She bared her teeth – she imagined it might appear a snarl – and Henry jerked away from her, as though he feared she might lunge at him and take a bite out of his arm.
“You see what this demonstrates?” she said, her voice shaking. “It’s not only that men in influential positions might abuse their power, and abuse their very humanity, by performing criminal acts. No matter how much we and the police might chase after the procurers supplying these men with their means of indulgence, the taste for that indulgence remains. A demand for punishing innocent people for twisted, personal reasons remains. We’ve achieved very little, in the larger scheme of things. You’ve concluded your missing-persons cases, and perhaps Prentice will have his promotion. I ask you again, Henry: are you content with that?”
Henry passed a hand over his pale face. “I’m sorry. Muriel. Sometimes I fear I have no heart at all, since…” He swallowed. “I’ll try to be better. To consider the reality of things, not only my case books and my puzzles and my fees.”
By degrees, the pinkness around Muriel’s vision began to dissipate.
“I’ll make sure of it,” she said firmly. “It goes without say that we will find our way to Simeon Courtenay, no matter how long it takes. We will expose him and we will ensure he’s punished. However, that’s not all. In future, there will be certain rules. We will accept only cases which, if solved, will add to the good in the world. If you fail to consider ‘the reality of things’, as you put it, by which I mean the true suffering of the great majority of men and women lacking the means to defend themselves, and if you fail to uphold principles of fairness and justice, then I will have nothing to do with you. I’ll withdraw my patronage as well as my assistance.”
“Your… patronage?” he repeated.
Muriel smiled broadly. “I’m glad you’re not questioning my continued assistance, at least. Yes, I’m prepared to invest funds into the business. It will allow us to reach more people who require our services, as well as operating in a less hand-to-mouth fashion. My support will remain anonymous, and so will my day-to-day involvement. There seems no reason to undermine my position in society, which has been hard won and may itself prove useful.”
Henry nodded blankly. He muttered, “This is all very…” but didn’t finish the statement.
“Then there’s the other matter,” Muriel said.
Henry’s doleful expression suggested he feared reprisals. She had no doubt that all those fears related to him personally, and were entirely selfish. He might be her elder, but he was certainly not better than her. She had to believe that he could be changed, reshaped.
“What other matter?” he asked.
“The case of Edward Hyde.”
Henry’s shoulders slumped. “Muriel – please… let me assure you—”
She interrupted him. “There’s no need to assure me of anything. In fact, you’re in no position to tell me a single thing about Edward – you’ve never so much as met him. I have, and I’ve reached my own conclusions.”
In truth, she was far from certain what she ought to conclude. For one thing, Edward’s response to seeing the living corpses in Furness’s basement had been ambiguous and deeply worrying. However, his apology to her had been drawn from somewhere deep within. Despite all the peripheral concerns, Muriel had faith that he too might be redeemed.
She took Henry’s hand and he allowed her to lead him to the door.
As she walked ahead of him down the dark staircase, she continued, “It was Edward’s actions that resulted in Furness being apprehended – and it was his actions that saved my life. More to the point, recent events have shown that you have far less control than you might like over the time and circumstances of your transformations. That will be an obstacle that we must overcome… or, preferably, use to our advantage. All of this means that Edward must be considered an equal partner in the business.”
“What about you, Muriel?”
She turned and smiled. “Oh yes, me too. But I will be a silent partner.”
She emerged into the sunlight of William and Mary Yard. Henry stumbled through the doorway, squinting like a man imprisoned in darkness for a long time.
He looked around him as if seeing the cobbled yard for the first time. “Why have you brought me out here?”
“To show you that the matter has already been resolved.”
Gently, she took Henry by both shoulders and turned him to face the door through which they had come. It had swung closed on its newly oiled hinges.
On the glass panel, in gleaming gold letters, was printed:
JEKYLL & HYDE:
CONSULTING DETECTIVES