Skin Like Silver

by Chris Nickson

  ‘What now?’ Barbara asked quietly. ‘Are you going to arrest me?’

  What was he going to do? He’d heard her story and he believed it. She’d been scared. She was still terrified. What she’d done was a crime, but he understood her reasons. The child had been dead anyway; Dr King had agreed with that. What would anyone gain by putting her in court? What would she learn in jail?

  ‘No,’ he said eventually.

  Barbara burst into tears, and her mother put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, biting her lip.

  Waite kept his expression straight, showing nothing as Harper stood.

  ‘I think this will be one of those things that’s never solved,’ the inspector said. ‘How about you, Constable?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ he agreed readily. ‘Pity we could never find the lass.’

  Harper tipped his hat as they left. Outside, he sighed deeply.

  ‘Would have been a shame to put her behind bars for that,’ Williams said.

  ‘Yes.’ He shook his head. ‘Best we forget we ever found them.’ He winked.

  ‘Fine by me, sir. Hope you enjoyed your walk around here. Shame it came to nowt.’

  ‘God, Tom,’ Annabelle said softly when he told her about the girl. They were sitting on the settee. Her head rested on his chest, legs curled up underneath her dress. ‘Can you imagine what that poor girl went through?’

  ‘I saw her face.’

  She squeezed him gently. ‘I’m glad you didn’t take her in.’

  ‘What would be the point? She’s already suffered. Their only crime is ignorance.’

  ‘And fear.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘That too. You know, it always surprises me when people are so scared of us.’

  ‘Why?’ She shifted, sitting up and looking at him. ‘You enforce the laws, and they’re made by the rich. Agreed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And those laws protect the rich.’

  ‘They’re meant to protect everyone. That’s the point. That’s what I do.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘You sound like one of your books.’

  Annabelle thought for a moment, going over the words she’d spoken. Then she threw her head back and laughed. ‘Oh God, I do, don’t I?’ She shook her head, amazed at what she’d said. ‘I’m sorry. But there’s truth in it, you’ve got to admit.’

  ‘Not in my work.’

  ‘No?’ she asked.

  He thought about Gordon Carr, the family money buying him out of trouble.

  ‘Sometimes,’ he admitted. He was about to say more when she turned her head. He heard a knock on the door and Dan came in followed by Constable Stone. It couldn’t be good news.

  ‘You’re needed down in town, sir,’ he said seriously. ‘There’s a hackney outside for you.’

  ‘What is it?’ If they’d ordered a cab it had to be serious.

  ‘A man on Briggate with a shotgun. He’s been firing at people.’

  Oh Christ, he thought. He’d been dreading something like this.

  ‘Anyone hurt?’

  ‘Three people injured,’ Stone said seriously. ‘They’ve been taken to the infirmary.’ He glanced down. ‘Two dead.’

  Annabelle gasped.

  ‘Sugden?’ he asked.

  ‘Sounds like it, sir. Long beard, looks ragged. He ran off into the courts. The sergeant said you know that area.’

  ‘It was my beat back when I was in uniform. I’ll go straight there. I want messages sent to Sergeant Reed and Constable Ash.’

  ‘Already done, sir. The superintendent is on his way.’

  ‘I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

  He was pulling on the mackintosh when he felt her breath on his neck. He turned, and Annabelle held him tight.

  ‘Just be careful, Tom. Please. This isn’t sticks and stones.’

  ‘I will.’ He kissed her. ‘Promise.’

  EIGHTEEN

  He walked quickly, grim-faced. The night had turned cold, the scent of rain close by. Briggate was eerily empty, just the trams and omnibuses clanking by. No people walking. Just policemen crowded around the corner of Commercial Street.

  Kendall was standing and directing his men, top hat shiny under the gas lamps. The smell of bay rum hair pomade wafted through the air. An ambulance stood on the road, the horse waiting patiently as two men placed a stretcher inside.

  ‘Have they found him yet?’ Harper asked.

  The superintendent shook his head slowly. ‘Ran off down Rose and Crown Yard. Some men took off after him but they stopped when he fired at them.’

  Harper look around. Small dark pools of blood on the pavement, more spattered all around. Light glistened on tiny pellets of lead shot from the gun.

  ‘What about the people he shot?’

  ‘Carnage,’ Kendall answered quietly. ‘Two of them dead, three more wounded. No rhyme or reason to it. The witnesses said he just seemed to appear and start shooting.’

  ‘Do we know who the victims are?’ Maybe one of them had slighted Sugden long ago and the grudge had simmered until it boiled over.

  The superintendent pulled a small notebook from his waistcoat.

  ‘Michael Samuels. A jeweller. He’s dead. His wife took some shot in her arm and leg. A piece in the eye, too. She might lose her sight. Seems her husband moved in front of her when Sugden aimed or she’d probably be dead, too. Bad enough as it is.’ He sighed. ‘The other one he killed is William Wright. A clerk in Holbeck. Nobody, just out for the evening. The other two he hit aren’t too bad, thank God. Why, Tom? Do you understand it?’

  He wished he did. He walked around. From the bloodstains on the ground, the people must have been close together. Taken by surprise, no chance to run. They hadn’t stood a chance.

  ‘Tom?’

  He turned. Kendall was looking at him. He must have spoken; Harper hadn’t heard.

  ‘Sorry, sir.’

  ‘Can you make sense of it?’

  ‘No,’ he answered. But how could you make sense of anything a madman did? ‘How many do we have hunting him?’

  ‘Six. It’s all the sergeant could pull together quickly. I want you in charge of them. Search every court behind Briggate.’

  ‘He could have cut through and run off somewhere else.’

  ‘I know that,’ Kendall said testily. ‘But we’re going to be thorough. I want him caught. And make sure no one else is killed.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Reed and Ash will be along soon and there are ten more uniforms on their way. Split them up, go through everything. Keep going until we find him. I’m off to the infirmary.’

  Faces gawped through the windows as a tram passed. The bodies had already been taken to Hunslet. All that remained was the blood.

  Harper beckoned to one of the constables standing guard.

  ‘Are any of the witnesses still here?’

  ‘One, sir. Over there.’

  He pointed at a man leaning against the dirty bricks, a thin fellow with grey hair, a patchy beard, and a twitching mouth.

  ‘Sir?’ the inspector asked, and the man raised his head. Someone had brought him a glass of brandy from one of the public houses. He held it cupped in his hands, taking tiny, nervous sips. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Harper.’ The man gave a hint of a nod. ‘Can I have your name please, sir?’

  ‘Page.’ The man’s voice was a thin croak. ‘Harold Page.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Page,’ the inspector said quietly. ‘I’m sure it must have been terrible, but I need to know what you saw.’

  It took time, the man speaking in fits and starts, nipping at the brandy after every sentence. Sugden was striding down Briggate, carrying the gun. It seemed like he’d come out of nowhere. People moved away as soon as they saw him. Everyone was running and screaming. Page had ducked into the passage leading down to Whitelock’s.

  Sugden stopped at the corner of Commercial Street, raised the gun and shot, one barrel, then the other. He looked at the peop
le he’d hit, then ran back up the street.

  ‘Did he seem to be looking for anyone in particular?’ the inspector asked.

  ‘No.’ Page took another little sip then shook his head. ‘Not at all.’

  There was nothing more to learn from the man. Harper thanked him and started up Briggate. It must have been crowded as Sugden began to walk. Then people noticed him, and started to flee. He could picture the terror on their faces, the desperate scramble to save themselves.

  How could you know what a madman would do, he wondered? How could anyone even begin to understand? Kendall had been right: there was no rhyme to this, no reason. It had just been slaughter for its own sake.

  A uniformed sergeant was organizing the new coppers as they arrived.

  ‘Where do you want them, sir?’ he asked.

  ‘Have them work their way through all the courts towards Lands Lane,’ Harper ordered. ‘Groups of two. I want everything searched. I mean everything – every building, every pile of rubbish.’ He stared at the constables. ‘Watch yourselves. He’s armed and he probably has more ammunition.’

  He was watching them leave when a hand tapped his shoulder.

  ‘I came as soon as I could,’ Reed told him. He was wearing an old jacket, no collar, and scuffed boots.

  ‘It’s bad.’ He summed up what had happened. ‘We’ve got uniforms searching.’

  ‘You know what Sugden’s like, he’s probably vanished.’

  ‘Very likely,’ the inspector agreed grimly. Sugden might be a lunatic but he knew how to survive. ‘He likes to hide where there are woods. There’s nothing like that around here. Ash will be here soon. Work with him. This was his beat before he became a detective, he knows it as well as anyone.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m going to see someone.’

  He picked his way through the rubbish in Fidelity Court. Oil lamps still burned in some of the houses. He knocked on a door and waited until it was opened by a heavy woman holding up a lantern.

  ‘Hello, Ginny,’ he said. She raised the light higher to see his face and snorted as she recognized him.

  ‘Mr Harper,’ Ginny Dempsey said. ‘Still Inspector, is it, or are you Chief Constable by now?’

  ‘I’ve not made the dizzy heights yet. You heard what happened?’

  ‘Course I did. Do you think I’m daft? You’ve been away from here too long.’

  ‘There are two people dead, Ginny. I need the man who did it.’

  ‘Only been two through here in the last hour.’

  He smiled. If anyone knew all the business in this court, it was her. ‘Who?’

  ‘Arthur Brennan, just passing through on his way to the Leopard Hotel. And someone else, not seen him before.’

  ‘What did he look like?’

  ‘Can’t see too well back here. We don’t have the gas.’

  No lamps to light the way, just the moon and hope.

  ‘Come on, I know you.’

  ‘Aye, well,’ she said. ‘Beard, carrying summat. About your height, I suppose.’

  ‘How long ago?’ Harper asked urgently.

  ‘Half an hour, maybe more. I wasn’t keeping track.’

  The time fitted. ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘Out past old Clem’s. Cutting through, most like.’

  He thought quickly. That ginnel led to so many places, ending up on Swan Street.

  ‘If he comes back, I need to know as soon as possible. There are coppers going all round here, just find one of them. But keep yourself out of his way.’

  ‘I will, don’t you worry about that.’

  ‘He’s dangerous, Ginny. I’m not joking.’

  Harper moved on, going slowly through the narrow passage between the houses. There was no room there for Sugden to hide. He blundered on, tripping and steadying himself against a wall. A few years ago he could have followed the path wearing a blindfold. Back in those days this had been his beat and he’d known every inch of it. Every smell, every sound. Now it was half a memory.

  The inspector came out into Swan Street, turning a corner to find bright lights and people moving around, the press of a crowd leaving Thornton’s Music Hall. But no Sugden.

  He walked back down to Briggate, then the hundred yards to the corner of Commercial Street. There was only one copper left there now, standing under the lamp. Everyone else was searching.

  He rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to push the tiredness away. When the men were done here, he’d spread them out. There was so much to cover. In his gut, though, he knew Sugden was already far away.

  And it had begun when he went out to Menston to tell Sugden that his sister was dead. It was as if the news had turned some sort of switch. But it seemed a very long, twisted path from a woman whose skin shone like silver to a man killing at random with a shotgun.

  He took out his pocket watch. Quarter past eleven. It was going to be a long night. They’d be out until dawn, poking into everything. Flickering lights through all the courts. Where would he go if he was Sugden? Somewhere well away from here, to leave the police flailing around.

  But he wasn’t a madman. There was no telling what someone like that might do. He could be waiting somewhere, the gun cocked, ready …

  The constable was pulling at his arm.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Some shouting, sir. Back in there.’ He nodded towards the courts hidden behind the shops.

  Now he could just make it out, on the edge of his hearing.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Harper started to run. The sound grew louder at the end of a ginnel and he followed it, ducking through two more courts then moving quickly to a third. Two constables were holding a man, yelling at him.

  ‘Who have you found?’

  One of the coppers held up a lantern. ‘Looks like it could be him, sir.’

  But it wasn’t. He had a long beard, but he was older, stooped. A man Harper recognized from years ago. He tried to dredge the name out of his memory.

  ‘It’s not. You can let him go.’

  Willie Woods. It came to him. A drunk with no real home. He dossed in rooming houses when he had a few pennies, and anywhere he could when he had nothing. The inspector took two pennies from his pocket and put them in Woods’s hand.

  ‘Find yourself a bed, Willie. You’ll be safer indoors tonight.’

  Not the right man, but at least they’d found someone. That would give them some heart. He walked on, seeing coppers everywhere. Finally he caught up with Reed and Ash.

  ‘Looks like all they’ve managed to dig up is old Willie Woods.’

  ‘Must have scared him,’ Ash said with a laugh. ‘Once Willie’s asleep, nothing can rouse him.’

  ‘We’ve found nothing,’ Reed said.

  ‘Ginny Dempsey saw Sugden going through Fidelity Court. But there’s no sign of him.’

  ‘Gone,’ was all the sergeant said.

  ‘Time to spread out a bit, I think.’

  There were miles of courts and yards. That was how it seemed. By first light, Billy Reed’s feet ached. He’d been tramping around for hours and felt like he’d gone nowhere. He understood: they had to be thorough. Sugden had killed four people now, and wounded more. He was dangerous. Deadly. But he wasn’t anywhere around here.

  The sergeant thought about the way Elizabeth had looked at him when the constable knocked on their door. The fear. She’d never experienced it in the time they’d been living together. It didn’t happen with the fire brigade; he was on duty or off. But as soon as he heard the sound, he knew what it meant, and he felt the buzz of excitement.

  Now, after so many fruitless, frustrating hours it had all faded away. He felt exhausted

  Finally he gave up. Sugden wasn’t here. He walked slowly back to Millgarth. All he wanted was a hot drink and something to fill his belly. Kendall was still out directing the constables.

  ‘He’s gone,’ Reed said, settling on to a chair. ‘Must have.’

  Harper nodded absently.<
br />
  ‘Why?’ the inspector asked. ‘Why would anyone do that?’ He had the report from the hospital on his desk. The dead man’s wife would be out of hospital later, but she’d lose the sight in one eye. A husband gone and half her vision, and for no reason at all. ‘What’s going on in Sugden’s mind? This isn’t revenge.’

  ‘He’s a lunatic, sir,’ Ash said with a grave sigh.

  ‘Something must have snapped in him,’ the sergeant offered.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He showed up after his sister’s funeral and shot at no one. At Carr’s factory he had his revenge. He killed the man who sacked him.’ Harper and the constable nodded. ‘There’s a kind of reason in what he did.’

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘We had someone like him when I was in Afghanistan. Andrew McCormack. He was in one of the other platoons. A good enough soldier, but his sergeant was always finding fault with him. Made him into a wreck. The sergeant just enjoyed being a bully. When they were out on patrol Jones had his revenge. Shot the sergeant in the back then turned the gun on the others before he ran off.’

  ‘Did you find him?’ Ash asked after a long silence. Reed shook his head.

  ‘The tribesmen got him first. They had a ritual when they caught one of ours.’ His voice trailed away bitterly. ‘We could almost understand what he did, shooting at his NCO like that. But his mates? That’s what I thought about when I was looking for Sugden tonight. The army hushed it all up. Bad for morale.’

  ‘How do you explain tonight?’ Harper asked.

  ‘He’s snapped,’ Reed repeated.

  The superintendent had entered; he stood quietly in the doorway, listening.

  ‘I don’t care if he’s snapped or if he’s as sane as me,’ Kendall said. ‘We need to find him.’

  His face was drawn, the dapper clothes dishevelled, hair rumpled when he took off his top hat.

  ‘I want a plan,’ he continued. ‘Right now, every copper in Leeds is looking for him.’ He gestured towards his office. ‘Tom.’

  Harper closed the door and sat, watching Kendall. The man looked tired as he sat back and rubbed his hands down his face.