Foxe and the Path into Darkness

by William Savage

  ‘The street children make it their business always to know where I am,’ Foxe replied. ‘No, I don’t know all their names, but I do know the names of many of them. Calling them by their names recognises them as individuals, Miss Lucy. Something few others bother to do. It pleases them.’

  Miss Lucy was silent for a moment, looking at Foxe and shaking her head gently in either wonderment or disbelief.

  ‘Have you yet more lessons to teach me, Ashmole Foxe?’ she said, and Foxe was thrilled at the use of his Christian name. ‘I’m not sure if I’m enjoying the process, though I am certain I need it badly. But no more of that. I also have something to tell you but it will have to wait for another time. You’d better be on your way. I’ll tell Perkins to bring your hat and coat.’

  ‘I am already here and have both to hand,’ the butler said from behind her. ‘I anticipated Mr Foxe might need to leave in a hurry. I have also summoned his coachman. I believe you will shortly find your coach drawn up in the street outside, sir.’

  ‘You are a treasure, Perkins,’ Foxe said, allowing the man to help him into his coat. ‘I hope Alderman Halloran recognises your value.’

  ‘I am most content here, sir, I assure you,’ Perkins replied. Then Foxe was down the steps the from the house and up those into his carriage. Henry set off at once and took his master the short distance to Belton’s warehouse with as much speed as he could muster.

  10

  The first person Foxe saw as his carriage clattered through the archway and into Belton’s yard was Mrs Belton. She was bustling about, directing people to go about their business and watching over a well-dressed man of middle years, who was bent over a bundle lying on the ground.

  ‘Mr Foxe!’ she cried on seeing him getting down from his carriage. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to see you. A terrible discovery has been made in the coal shed to the rear of the yard. It’s the body of Johnson, our chief clerk. He’s been killed!’

  The middle-aged man stood up from his examination of what could now be seen to be a corpse, already showing distinct signs of putrefaction.

  ‘Charles Kingsthorpe,’ he said, ‘newly appointed as coroner for the city. Delighted to make your acquaintance, sir, though I wish it had been under better circumstances. I heard you had been asked by the city fathers to investigate Mr Belton’s disappearance. I’m informed by Mrs Belton that this is the body of a man called Johnson, who was chief clerk here, and that he disappeared at the same time as her husband. As you can see, he has been struck firmly over the head with some heavy object. His body was then placed in this coal shed. I understand it is little used at this time of year, so the corpse might well have remained undiscovered for some time.’

  ‘How did it come to light?’ Foxe asked.

  ‘A vagrant decided to sleep there last night and thought the corpse was another sleeper. When he awoke this morning, he found his mistake and raised everyone with his shouting.’

  ‘Did he not notice the smell?’

  ‘That’s the fellow over there, in the custody of one of the constables. If you move any closer, you will discover that it would be a miracle if he could smell anything, save his own stench. I shall have him kept until the inquest tomorrow where he must give evidence of the discovery—having been held under a pump for some time to lessen his odour enough to enter the room where the inquest will be held. Then I shall hand him over to the magistrates who will doubtless see that he leaves this city at once.’

  ‘The inquest will be tomorrow?’ Foxe said. ‘Do you know where it will be held?’

  ‘Mrs Belton kindly offered the use of the boardroom here, but it is too small to be suitable. I imagine a good number of persons will be intrigued by the death and will wish to attend, as well as the jury, the witnesses and myself with my clerk. He has already been to The Maid’s Head Inn close by and secured the use of their largest room. I will open proceedings at two o’clock in the afternoon, if you wish to attend.’

  ‘I will certainly be there,’ Foxe said. ‘I wish to hear the medical examiner’s evidence and be certain that this is a case of murder.’

  ‘My personal opinion,’ Mr Kingsthorpe said gravely, ‘is that it can hardly be anything else, but I agree that we must wait for expert evidence on the cause of death. Until tomorrow then.’

  Mrs Belton had been waiting nearby. Now she stepped forward to take Foxe by the arm and ask him to accompany her to the director’s office.

  ‘I sorely need something to settle my nerves,’ she said, ‘and I expect you will not refuse a glass of brandy either. I was intending to write to you and tell you what new things I have discovered. I cannot expect you to keep coming here for me to pass you what are mere fragments of information and indications of what may or may not be relevant. Now I can tell you in person.’

  The two of them went up the stairs to the director’s office where she poured herself a substantial glass of brandy, with a similar one for Foxe, before draining her own glass in two gulps and filling it up again.

  ‘Johnson’s death is a tragedy, of course, but it comes at an especially bad time for this business,’ she began, after taking yet another gulp of her drink. ‘I have yet to complete a proper investigation of the ledgers but it is already clear to me that there are a number of substantial bad debts, as well as invoices that have remained unpaid for up to seven months. We are hovering on the brink of insolvency, Mr Foxe, due entirely to my husband’s carelessness and neglect. One bad debt in particular is extremely worrying. Comiston, the bookkeeper, tells me my husband sold a large consignment of cloth, via an agent we had not previously used, to a cloth merchant in Riga. A few days before my husband’s disappearance, a letter arrived from that agent to say that the merchant in question had suddenly ceased trading and it looked extremely unlikely that Belton’s invoice would ever be paid.’

  ‘I thought the cloth producers here always sold through London dealers and that included sales destined for overseas markets?’ Foxe said.

  ‘They do. It’s a way of avoiding bad debts of precisely this kind. The London men take their cut, of course, but sensible merchants view this as payment for a kind of insurance against personal loss.’

  ‘But your husband decided to act differently?’

  ‘I can find few details. Comiston was not party to the discussions, though Johnson would have been. All he can tell me is that this agent, whose name he says was Cartwright, arrived one day and persuaded my husband that he could produce significant sales in Northern Europe provided the goods were sold direct. It’s exactly the kind of scheme best calculated to have won over my husband: the prospect of significant wealth gained with little or no personal effort.’

  ‘Is the debt a large one, Mrs Belton?’

  ‘Large enough. Almost two thousand pounds. Together with the other unpaid bills, it is enough to push the business to the limit, or even beyond. I have been wracking my brains for a way to cover the loss until I can see the business back on its feet. There is also the matter of a large mortgage my husband took out earlier in the year. Unless we can continue to pay the interest on that loan, the bank will foreclose and seize assets to cover the debt.’

  ‘Can you pay?’

  ‘The interest? I think so. If they were to ask for repayment of the loan itself, that would definitely be beyond us.

  ‘You still intend to continue to take charge of the business?’

  ‘I do. With Johnson dead, there is no one else. Belton’s employs scores of people, Mr Foxe, including some of the best weavers in the county. I will not stand by and see them reduced to penury because I made the mistake of marrying a lazy and foolish man. I have no child to leave this business to, but I have a much-loved nephew, a lawyer, and he has two sons. If I can, I will give them the opportunity of inheriting a sound business. Given time, I believe I can set things right again.’

  As he was driven away, Foxe realised that at no time had Mrs Belton suggested that Johnson’s murder might indicate her own husband had also been killed,
nor had she seemed worried about what might have happened to him. Instead, she had made it clear that she either did not expect him to return or hoped that he might not do so. She was now firmly in charge. That was where she intended to stay.

  SINCE HALLORAN’S house was both close by and on his way home, Foxe called up to Henry with instructions to call there first. He was sure Miss Lucy would be agog with curiosity so he could at least satisfy that before proceeding home.

  He arrived to find that Halloran himself was back, so he took the opportunity to tell him what had been discovered at Belton’s yard and what Mrs Belton had told him about the state of the business.

  ‘Murdered!’ Halloran said, aghast. ‘This is indeed a bad business, Foxe. Do you think the mayor has suffered the same fate?’

  ‘I cannot tell,’ Foxe replied. ‘Unless or until his corpse is found, as Johnson’s has been now, there can be no proof. It looks as if someone was prepared to use violence against the management of the business so perhaps that also includes Belton himself. I shall try to find out if anyone has recently been dismissed or might harbour a grudge against the firm for some other reason.’

  ‘Do that,’ Halloran replied. ‘Until now, Belton’s has always been seen as a thoroughly stable concern, albeit old-fashioned and somewhat dull. Mrs Belton’s news, when it gets out, will be bound to rock the whole of the Norwich cloth industry. It’s a particularly bad time for such a thing to happen, given the growing threats to our trade from the Yorkshire firms and the cotton spinners.’

  ‘I have told you what she said about the bad debts, Halloran, but I think it might be best to keep that to yourself, at least until she has had a chance to raise enough money to ensure the firm’s solvency. As you just said, it can do no good to the city for this to be known.’

  ‘Quite right, Foxe. I shall do as you say. As for this sale to a merchant in Riga, I remember well how, just about the time he became mayor, Belton went about boasting how much extra profit he could make by cutting out the London merchants. The other merchants all warned him that he was taking a great risk, but he would have none of it. Do you think this unnamed agent was genuine?’

  ‘I very much doubt it. The whole affair sounds like an elaborate plot to obtain a large supply of high-quality worsteds, sell them to various merchants and mercers, then disappear without paying for them. By now, the supposed agent has doubtless become invisible, taking his share of the proceeds with him.’

  ‘Dammit, Foxe! I think you’re right. How embarrassing the whole business would have been to the mayor. He hated anyone to say “I told you so”. The other merchants already despised him enough. This would have convinced them that he was an even bigger fool than they had judged him to be.

  ‘I must write to my colleagues in the group running the city at once. I shall call for an urgent meeting tomorrow to discuss Johnson’s murder. I shan’t mention the debts but I must tell them of Johnson’s murder. They will be more than deeply perturbed by that news alone, so we need to agree on how best to deal with it.’

  ‘Before I leave, Halloran,’ Foxe said, ‘I would like to talk with Miss Lucy for a few minutes.’

  ‘Lucy? You’ve been spending a great deal of time with my niece of late, Foxe. Oughtn’t you to be attending to more serious matters?’

  ‘Miss Lucy is helping me with my enquiries,’ Foxe said, wondering how Halloran might take this news.

  ‘Lucy? Little Lucy? She’s barely out of childhood. How can she possibly be helping you in a grave matter such as this?’

  ‘Your niece is an extremely intelligent and capable young woman, Halloran. I too made the mistake of underestimating her ability and judgement. I shall not do so again. I have asked her to let me tell her of my findings so that she may consider them with me and point out what I have missed. She has already shown her worth by pointing me in several directions that I might well otherwise have ignored. I greatly value her counsel.’

  ‘Lucy? She has agreed to do this? Lucy? And she is good at it?’

  ‘Extremely good, Halloran. I would not involve her otherwise.’

  ‘I am amazed, Foxe, but I must assume you know what you are doing. Besides, I learned within weeks of Lucy and her sister coming to live with us that that young woman’s mind, once set on a course of action, is as flexible as a block of marble. If she is determined to help you, Foxe, Satan himself will not be able to persuade her to act otherwise. Go into the drawing room and I will have someone find her and send her to you.’

  Foxe was, once again, looking out of the window when he heard Lucy come in behind him. Naturally, he turned to acknowledge her but was struck dumb by her appearance. She always appeared elegant and well-dressed but, that day, she must have taken special care with her toilet. For what felt like an age, he could only stare, fighting down the urge to tell her how beautiful she was and how deeply he felt for her. In the end, he blurted out the first harmless remark which occurred to him.

  ‘The chapel opposite is truly a most handsome building, isn’t it?’

  The look on Lucy’s face was unreadable but he felt he detected at least a trace of satisfaction. She must have known the effect she was having on him but all she said was, ‘Good day to you, Mr Foxe. Yes, it is, I agree, but you have already told me of your appreciation of its architecture. I gather you have things to tell me of greater importance than that.’

  By this time, Foxe had managed to recover something of his composure, but he still felt unable to plunge into what he had come to tell her. Instead, he noted that she was alone and wondered where her maid, Susan, might be. Perhaps she would shortly appear with refreshments?

  ‘I see you are without your maid today, Miss Lucy. Is she unwell?’

  ‘She will come shortly with some tea, but she will not be staying. She is indeed suffering from a grave malady but not one that can be cured by any physician. She has become completely besotted with you, I fear. All she can talk about are your many virtues and the kindness you have shown towards her. I have therefore judged it best to limit her contact with you to a minimum, in case this ailment of hers becomes chronic. I gather the other servants are already tired of the panegyrics she directs towards you.’ She shook her head in dismissal of her maid’s adoration of Foxe. ‘I never needed a chaperone anyway.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ Foxe stammered.

  ‘Of course not. It was only to remind you to mind your manners now that you are dealing with an adult and not the child you obviously expected.’

  If Lucy’s intention was to unsettle Foxe and gain the upper hand, she had fully succeeded.

  ‘Do sit down,’ she said, her tone containing some irritation, ‘and stop looking so startled. I won’t bite you. Now, I am most eager to learn about the corpse at Belton’s yard. Do you know whose body it was? Did it appear to be a natural death or not? I’m not going to waste any more time discussing my maid and her sad affliction.’

  Susan herself entered at that point, bringing in the tea, which provided Foxe with a much-needed moment to gather himself together. He noted the adoring looks she sent in his direction and smiled in return. Lucy might find Susan’s liking for him annoying, but he was well used to the effect his charm had on young women, especially servants. He knew how to hold them off, while benefiting from their subsequent willingness to tell him many things about their masters they should not have done.

  When they were alone again, Foxe told Lucy all that he had discovered since they talked together last, from the discovery of Johnson’s body to Mrs Belton’s explanation of the dire state in which she had found the business that her husband should have been managing.

  ‘Are you sure Johnson was murdered?’ Lucy asked when he finally came to a stop in his narrative.

  ‘I won’t know for certain until I attend the inquest tomorrow, Miss Lucy,’ Foxe told her, ‘and hear the evidence of the medical examiner, but it very much looks as if he was. He had suffered a severe blow to his temple, most likely from an iron bar or something of that type. It’s hard
to see how that could have been accidental, and no one commits suicide by hitting themselves over the head.’

  ‘Quite so. By the way, now that we are partners in this investigation, I think you may simply call me Lucy in private—but only in private, let me stress. What shall I call you?’

  ‘Ashmole is something of a mouthful,’ Foxe replied, his heart singing with joy. It was the first obvious lowering of the barriers she had erected between them. ‘My male friends call me “Foxe”, but Mistress Tabby, whom I have known since I was a child and is my closest friend, usually calls me “Ash”. When she uses my full name, I know she is annoyed with me for some reason.’

  Lucy considered for a few moments and then announced that she would call him “Ash” in private, but always “Mr Foxe” when someone else was present.

  ‘To call you “Foxe” makes you sound like a servant,’ she said, ‘and “Ashmole” is too unwieldy. I shall copy Mistress Tabby and reserve that for times when I am displeased with you. Having cleared that out of the way, let us return to business. What do you intend to do next, Ash?’

  ‘To be quite honest, Lucy, I am not very sure. I shall attend the inquest, of course, but I don’t expect to gain any fresh ideas on the direction of our investigation from that. I shall also ask Mrs Crombie what is being said in the city about Johnson’s death. Most of it will be nothing more than guesswork and innuendo, but you never know.’

  ‘Did Johnson have a wife, do you know?’

  ‘I don’t. Is it relevant?’

  ‘It might be. I’m not sure. There is something at the back of my mind which tells me we ought to find out. Would Mistress Tabby know?’

  ‘Probably. I could also ask the street children to seek for information amongst the many servants they encounter. If they could discover where he lived, they might be able to talk with his maid or some other servant in the household.’