The House Of Smoke

by Sam Christer

‘Privacy, my good man!’ he shouted at the turnkey. ‘Please do not have the temerity to hover like a great stink. My client has the right to confidential counsel and I am asserting it on his behalf, so be gone with you!’

  Levine stared a hole in the back of the turnkey’s tunic until the door had been soundly shut. He then gave me his full attention. ‘A fellow named Arthur Cross has lodged an official complaint with the chief constable. An hour ago he resigned from the constabulary. He did so because he felt his letter was not going to be dealt with fairly, promptly or professionally.’

  ‘And how is this pertinent to me?’

  ‘I shall illuminate you. When you were arrested you were taken into custody where you were beaten, were you not?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘One of those men was PC Cross.’

  ‘I cannot recall any names. What difference does his admission make?’

  ‘A great deal, and if you kindly afford me a little of your patience, then I shall be pleased to explain.’ He reached to his side and from a case produced a document. ‘As you will see from his sworn statement, he and several other officers had been instructed by their inspector to assault you.’ Levine picked out their surnames with stabs of an index finger. ‘Here, here and here.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I am seeking to use this assault as grounds for appeal. I will build a case that such was the level of brutality it left you traumatised and unable to properly respond to questioning.’

  ‘Will the Crown not purport that I had such an opportunity at my trial?’

  ‘They will, but we will assert that you were still in a state of trauma, that such was the brutalisation, you were in no fit state to make your case.’

  ‘And my lawyer?’

  He looked embarrassed. ‘We must concede that you were inadequately represented, that counsel was incompetent. That much is true. I have dismissed the flibbertigibbet and once more you have my apologies for his failings.’

  ‘Thank you, but sadly there is no turning back of the clock.’

  ‘We are trying, Mr Lynch, but the clocks of Justice are rusted and stubborn.’

  ‘Then I pray you free them soon so that I might be freed. Meanwhile, I am desperate for news of the outside world, Mr Levine – news of our mutual employers, my former colleagues and associates.’

  ‘Yes, I imagine you are.’ His countenance became more businesslike as he added, ‘I am not at liberty to speak openly about our employers in these surroundings, nor is any visit possible at the moment. I hope circumstances may change but for reasons of safety, such a venture is currently out of the question. Once more, I convey to you their deepest respect and highest gratitude for your continued loyalty.’

  ‘If only locks could be picked with your fine phrases, Mr Levine, then I should already be strolling down The Strand.’

  ‘Sir, I mean only to honestly convey to you—’

  ‘Save me your expensive flattery. What of Surrey Breed? Do you have any word on her?’

  ‘I am afraid not. Despite limitless enquiries, there has been no sight or sound of her since the night of your arrest.’

  The news saddened me and I couldn’t help but fear the worst for her. Levine got to his feet and pushed the chair beneath the table. ‘If there is nothing further then I shall go, and busy myself on your behalf.’

  ‘That is it? Your fleeting visit is over?’ My temper boiled. ‘You must work harder and get me out of here, sir!’ I banged a fist on the table out of frustration. ‘These hands must close around the throat of my nemesis!’

  ‘Sir, please, control yourself.’ The lawyer glanced towards the door and the gaolers we both knew would be standing with their ears pressed to the other side. ‘I strive relentlessly for your freedom, Mr Lynch. We have our men of straw for the case of the murdered policeman, and we have PC Cross to call into question the validity of your second murder conviction. Now, if I am to secure your liberty, I really must bid you good day. There is much to be done and very little of your time left in which to do it.’

  Derby Day, Epsom, May 1887

  The journey to Epsom that day almost thirteen years ago had been awful.

  Elizabeth and I found not a single moment in which to be alone and overcome the awkwardness that arose from her confession of her debt to Moriarty and culminated in my subsequent banishment from her bedroom.

  My discomfort must have been palpable, for once on the train from Derby, and again as we exited at the station, the professor questioned my peculiar quietness. I insisted that I was merely feeling under the weather and thought he had accepted this. I was wrong. As we made our way into the racecourse he pulled me to one side. ‘I am no fool, Simeon, so please do not treat me like one. While I may have been inclined to ignore your relationship with Miss Breed, I am most certainly not going to approve of your obvious dalliance with Lady Elizabeth.’

  ‘It is not—’

  ‘Be quiet! Don’t irritate me with ill-thought-out lies. It is blatantly obvious from the past few hours of avoided eye contact and leaden silences that something has occurred. And if it is what I fear it is, then it must be ended. Immediately! Do you understand me?’

  ‘Sir, with respect, I have the most honourable of feelings towards Lady—’

  ‘God help me, Simeon!’ Moriarty pushed me backwards. He was angrier than I had ever seen. ‘I did not enquire, nor do I care a jot about your feelings. I asked if you understood my demand to end your dalliance.’

  ‘I understand your demand,’ I replied firmly. ‘But I am not willing to comply with it.’

  ‘Not willing?’ His hands balled into fists, but I knew he would not strike me. He had not the brashness of personality to do so and this was far too public a place for him to lash out and be seen losing his temper.

  ‘It stops! Stops right now.’ He jabbed me insistently in the chest and strode away.

  Ahead, I saw Elizabeth standing with Sirius. They had waited for us and had witnessed everything. Moriarty drew level with her. He said something, then snatched her by the arm and all but dragged her out of view and into the mass of racegoers.

  Thackeray caught me up. ‘What’s wrong with the prof? He certainly seemed to ’ave ’is dander up.’

  ‘He’s just in a bad temper,’ I lied. ‘He was warning me that there were to be no slip-ups today. Apparently, there are many important meetings to be held.’

  It was a cool and cloudy morning but the crowd had clearly not been deterred by the weather. There were tens of thousands of them and their collective noise was so deafening that it saved me from further interrogation by my northern friend. Excited people packed the paddocks and stands. Others jostled around the edge of the track for the best of positions. Above the roar of thrilled voices came lusty shouts of bookmakers, most of whom perched precariously on portable steps with giant chalkboards displaying their odds.

  At Tattenham Corner there were all manner of steam rides and, not far away, a fairground with coconut shies, hoop stalls, jugglers, magicians and fortune-tellers. Sadly, we had little time for amusement. Most of the day was spent in earnest with the professor’s business partners. These were men who coordinated numerous betting scams, not just at Epsom but at Chester, Aintree and Ascot as well. The Chans were not among them. The pact brokered at Primrose Hill had seen them retreat into the background and take a share of profits as ‘sleeping partners’.

  Our appointments included trainers who were willing to nobble not only their horses but also their opponents’ animals. And we struck deals with several jockeys more than content to throw a race for not much more than a month’s wages. I learned all nature of dirty tricks. Foul play included tightening a horse’s shoes, running it on hard ground when the race going was soft, and simply putting a bucket of water into the animal’s belly just before the off.

  Circumstances continued to conspire to keep Elizabeth and me apart, until the professor peeled away to a hospitality area to meet some members of Parliament.

  ‘Are you all
right?’ I asked her, tentatively.

  She took my arm and walked me away from Sirius and Thackeray. ‘You mean, am I still embarrassed and cross with you?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I do. And are you?’

  ‘I am.’ She smiled forgivingly. ‘But not as much as I was last night.’

  ‘Then for that I am grateful.’

  ‘The professor was very angry at the way you talked to him. He said you were defiant.’

  ‘He told me that he didn’t want me to be with you. A dalliance, he called it.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And I told him I wouldn’t obey such an order.’

  ‘I know that as well. But you must obey him, Simeon. Moriarty has affection for you but it would be foolish to push him to the limits of it. As I am sure you have become aware, he likes to control everything. Everything and everyone.’

  ‘So we are destined to be his slaves? To have no free will? No right to choose what we feel and for whom we feel it?’

  ‘You put it a little melodramatically, but yes, that is the sum of things.’ She lifted the racing card in order to change the subject. ‘Did your various discussions this morning inform you of where I should place a wager?’

  ‘Avoid the favourite – that’s a horse called The Baron. And if your heart is so bold, take a flutter on an unknown called Merry Hampton.’

  ‘You know my heart is bold; it is my mind that urges caution. What is so merry about this horse?’

  ‘He’s a sixteen-hander, strong and wiry, said to have great stamina in his legs.’

  ‘Stamina is a quality I find most attractive,’ she said flirtatiously. ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘He’s a thoroughbred, owned by a man called George Baird, a fellow who also uses the alias Mr Abington.’

  ‘Baird? I think I have heard of him.’

  ‘You probably have. He has been in the newspapers.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He was banned when he was a jockey and also prosecuted for assaulting a policeman. I know of him because he’s also been heavily involved in illegal prize fighting. Money is shifting to his horse, so something tells me it may be worth backing.’

  Elizabeth opened her handbag. ‘What are the odds?’

  I looked at a board beyond her shoulder. ‘Currently eleven to one.’

  From her purse she produced the grand sum of ten pounds. ‘Then back it for me.’

  I took the money and grinned. ‘I am delighted to see that your mind can be as bold as your heart.’

  ‘Given good cause,’ she answered. Then something caught her eye for she suddenly pointed, ‘Look over there, Simeon! That’s the Prince of Wales.’

  I followed the line of her finger and saw him briefly before he disappeared in a throng of hangers-on. ‘I see him.’

  ‘Isn’t it exciting? We are in the company of so many lords, ladies, barons, viscounts and knights of the realm that we may as well be at a royal garden party.’

  My eyes roamed the crowd in search of the titled and privileged. New top hats and lavish bonnets bobbed on an endless sea of well-tailored gentry. It was impossible to distinguish the excessively rich from the even richer. All the ladies wore beautiful dresses, cut tight at corseted waists, carved low over generous bosoms and draped not too long in length to be caught underfoot.

  Elizabeth checked her watch. ‘Oh bother! I really must go. I am to stand idly at the professor’s side and play the part of his doting love.’

  Her impending departure irked me. ‘It doesn’t seem to me that you have to play so hard at it.’

  ‘Don’t be such a fool, Simeon. Can’t you see that he has no genuine interest in me?’ She caught her breath, seemed surprised by her own words. ‘Please forget I said that. I have spoken quite out of turn.’ She made to go.

  I grabbed her arm. ‘What did you mean?’

  She shook me off.

  I walked with her. ‘Elizabeth, what did you mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She turned her face away from me. ‘Ignore what I said.’

  Suddenly, everything made sense. ‘He doesn’t like women, does he? The professor prefers men.’

  Elizabeth did not answer. She stayed silent all the way to the tent. All the way to the side of the man she had to pretend was her lover.

  A short time later, Merry Hampton won the Derby.

  Won four and a half thousand pounds for its owner and more than a hundred for Elizabeth. Being less adventurous, or perhaps more sceptical, I had only placed five pounds as a wager for myself but was more than happy with the fifty-five pounds return.

  I wanted to celebrate with everyone, but Moriarty insisted Elizabeth join him and Alex to host a dinner with ‘family-friendly’ businessmen and politicians. Afterwards, they planned to attend a private party thrown by the Prince of Wales. He said Sirius would provide protection for the evening, and I wasn’t needed. I knew it was the professor’s way of underlining his disapproval of my feelings towards Elizabeth.

  I spent the evening alone in a local tavern with poor food and cheap ale. My mood grew melancholic and I could not help but feel that I was a puppet on strings perpetually pulled by Moriarty. Granted, this was a better rope than another that might be looped around my neck, but it was still rope.

  As the ale numbed the pain, I concluded my lot was not so bad and all I really craved was the freedom to love Elizabeth and to be loved by her. If the professor granted me that, then I would kill half the world for him and the other half for her.

  I woke the following morning, with a beery head and the annoyance that Moriarty, Alex and Elizabeth had already left for Derbyshire. By default, I was forced to return with Sirius, my least favourite of travelling companions.

  We barely spoke en route and this gave me time to consider the deeper implications of the professor’s early departure. He had travelled without security, something he seldom did. Therefore, Sirius had been left in Epsom to guard me. In my mind, this meant Moriarty was feeling vulnerable. Most probably he feared Elizabeth had confided in me, not only about his true sexuality but also his part in her father’s death.

  Vulnerability was something my old mentor, Bosede, had taught me to look out for. ‘Every man, no matter how big or powerful, has a weakness,’ he told me. ‘He will seek to hide his vulnerability by taking the boldest of actions. Find that Achilles’ heel and you control him and your own destiny.’

  I was certain I had found Moriarty’s. Elizabeth’s companionship afforded him a veneer of heterosexual respectability. To be seen as half of a courting couple made him socially acceptable and allowed him to do business within conventional circles.

  The journey back to Derbyshire was slow and it gave me time to reflect. Elizabeth had acted most uncharacteristically in revealing Moriarty’s secret to me, and indeed her own background for that matter. It made me wonder whether she was forcing my hand. Testing me, to see whether I could use this powerful information against the professor and lessen the hold he had on her.

  The day was all but over when we rolled through the gates of the Moriarty country estate. Once I had helped stable the horses my mind and body were exhausted and all I was fit for was sleep.

  The following morning, I did not go to the professor, but instead sought out Alexander. I knew that in speaking to him, whatever I said would within the hour be relayed to Moriarty.

  I found the lawyer alone. He was taking tea in the garden beneath the shade of some yews while perusing a copy of The Times.

  ‘Hello, Alex,’ I called amiably.

  He looked up and seemed pleased to see me crossing the lawn. ‘Simeon! How are you? Was your journey back yesterday agreeable?’

  ‘I am very well; and we had a good journey, thank you. May I sit and seek your guidance?’

  ‘Please do.’ He regarded me with suspicion while I pulled out a chair and rightly so, for once I was seated I asked, ‘Tell me, how does law and society stand in respect of buggery?’

  ‘Buggery?’ He abandoned his paper in shock. ‘Gosh,
what a question. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Personal curiosity.’

  ‘Well, let me see. Hrrm. Homosexuality is not much spoken about these days. Although it is undoubtedly common among all classes.’

  ‘But kept secret?’

  ‘Somewhat.’

  ‘And the law?’

  ‘Well, there was legislation in the sixteenth century that made buggery punishable by death. Execution was only abolished back in the sixties. Currently, there is a strong movement in Parliament and the Church to widen legislation in order to make any physical sexual contact between men a criminal offence.’

  ‘And how do you feel about that? From your own special perspective?’

  He looked flustered. ‘You mean as a lawyer?’

  ‘How else could I have meant it?’

  ‘I feel such persecution to be abhorrent. As I feel all prejudice and persecution is.’ He took off his hat and mopped his brow. ‘It is a very beautiful day, but too hot for me to be sitting outside for any length of time. I think I must hobble back inside before I burn to a crisp.’ Alex rose on his crutches and somewhat flustered added, ‘My apologies, Simeon. Please do excuse me.’

  I watched him swing on the sticks and cover the grass almost as quickly as I could. It was clear now. The final piece of the puzzle was solved. Alexander and Moriarty were lovers. This was why the professor trusted and valued him so much.

  ‘Wait!’ I shouted and ran after the young lawyer.

  Alex halted on the pathway and half-turned to me. The expression on his face said he feared I had something uncomfortable to say.

  I caught up with him. ‘Tell Moriarty I know. I know about him and about you. Please rest assured that I would never betray either of you. Like yourselves, I simply wish to be free of opposition when it comes to matters of the heart.’

  He shifted his weight in order to move again but I put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. ‘One more thing. Please also tell the professor he has my blessing to call upon Elizabeth as a companion any time he wishes. And he has my assurance that I will keep the relationship I fully intend to have with her, every bit as discreet as he does his relationship with you.’