‘There’s something you haven’t considered, Hannah.’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘If you desert the company – Mr Teale assured me of this – he would have to assign the part of Rosalind to Miss Ingram. She would garner all the praise in your stead. Do you really want that to happen?’
The church of St Saviour’s in the parish of Tottenham satisfied all their requirements. Set in a village, it was outside the bustle of London yet easily reached from the city. More to the point, it had a vicar who was eager to put their plan into action. The Runners wished that they had found the church earlier on instead of having to visit so many beforehand. Yeomans and Hale surveyed the churchyard. The fact that a corpse had been stolen from there less than six months earlier showed that it had been watched by bodysnatchers. The crime had made the vicar resolve to thwart any future attacks on his churchyard. The plan put to him seemed to be the ideal answer.
‘It’s good to find a clergyman prepared to see sense,’ observed Yeomans. ‘Most of them were terrified they’d be reported to someone.’
‘They’d be doing nothing illegal, Micah.’
‘They’re far too timid. Parish priests are all the same. They’re afraid to break wind without written permission from their bishop. ’
‘This one isn’t,’ said Hale, ‘and nor was the Reverend Corke.’
‘I wish he’d told us why Peter Skillen had gone to his church.’
‘He was there with a woman for some reason.’
‘Yes, but what was that reason?’
‘You could always ask him.’
‘I just want to catch some bodysnatchers before he does,’ said Yeomans. ‘We need to prove to Mr Kirkwood that we can do what the Skillen brothers can never do.’
‘One of them is not even in London.’
‘That suits me, Alfred.’
‘There’s something else that will suit you,’ said Hale, as he saw two figures coming around the angle of the church. ‘The vicar is as good as his word. He not only approved of the plan – your plan – he’s doing exactly what you asked him to do.’
Yeomans caught sight of the vicar with a thickset man carrying a spade. They walked to a corner of the churchyard where there was plenty of space. As soon as the vicar pointed to a spot, the gravedigger started work. Yeomans was delighted.
‘We’ll need to find an empty coffin and bury it after dark,’ he said. ‘Sooner or later, somebody will come sniffing in this direction.’
‘How soon do we need to keep the churchyard under surveillance?’
‘They can start tomorrow night.’
‘It may be some time before any gang is aware of the burial.’
‘They’ll come here eventually. Meanwhile, we need a person who is strong, patient, fearless and unlikely to fall asleep while on duty.’
‘There’s only one man who meets those demands.’
‘Chevy Ruddock!’ they said in unison.
When he’d called at the house, Mungo Darwood had assumed that he’d be left alone with Clemency to pass on the information he’d gathered about her father. Instead – and he made no complaint – he was given tea and refreshments in a room shared with three women. One of them, Abigail Saunders, was too abashed by his presence to say anything, but the others were full of questions. In spite of his physical disabilities, he’d been busy and had spoken to some of George Parry’s old friends. One of whom had been especially helpful.
‘What was his name?’ asked Clemency.
‘Taylor – Mr Geoffrey Taylor.’
‘I remember him. He employed my father years ago.’
‘Given the choice, he’d have employed him much more. He said that, as an engineer, George Parry was a true pioneer. When he came in search of him recently, he heard your father was no longer in a fit state to do any kind of work.’
‘What about the other people you contacted?’ asked Charlotte.
‘They were all fellow engineers, Mrs Skillen, and they happily admitted that they’d never achieved the same level of excellence as my old friend, George. He was even more gifted than I’d imagined.’
‘Why didn’t they help him in his hour of need?’
‘I asked that very question of all three of them.’
‘How did they answer it?’
‘With one voice,’ replied Darwood. ‘None of them knew about the predicament he was in until it was too late. They hadn’t spurned him – as George had feared – they were keen to come to his aid. When Mr Taylor set up a fund to pay off George’s debts, the three of them contributed readily. The problem was that they couldn’t find him. He’d vanished into the masses of poverty-stricken wretches that blight this fine city.’
‘Did any of them search for him?’ asked Clemency.
‘Mr Taylor took on that responsibility. He hired someone to find your father but the search bore no fruit. Apart from anything else, I suspect, George’s appearance had changed so markedly that he might not have been easy to recognise. Since his three friends had last seen him, he’d have aged and lost a lot of weight. The description given to the man sent looking for George might well have been worthless.’
‘It’s a comfort to know that he still had friends, after all.’
‘They were friends and admirers of his work.’
‘Did any of them say why he stopped working?’
‘They all had theories about that …’
Charlotte was happy to let Clemency take over the questioning completely. Curiously, she was less interested in what her father’s friends had said than in her memories of visits made to the family house by Darwood. They reminisced happily. Charlotte was pleased to see a smile on Clemency’s face at last. Darwood brought the man alive again for his daughter. It was a joy to hear her laugh at one point. While half-listening to the conversation, Charlotte was remembering what their visitor had told them earlier. She singled out Geoffrey Taylor. If Peter had made no headway, she believed it might benefit him to speak to the man at the earliest opportunity.
Hannah Granville was such an ebullient person that her lapse into a morose silence was wholly out of character. At least she was no longer berating Paul and accusing him of siding with the manager. She’d come to realise that her career had reached a turning point. Instinct told her to flounce out of the cast of As You Like It and return to London, but that course of action was not as appealing as it had first seemed. It might be as expensive as it was damaging to her professional standing. The fact that she would, in effect, be handing the role of Rosalind to a despised rival was the decisive factor. Though she’d have to endure the woman’s proximity during daily rehearsals of the play, it would be preferable to giving Elinor Ingram the chance to shine in her place.
Paul was not used to a prolonged silence in her company. When Hannah was not talking to him, she was usually rehearsing her latest role. He eventually interrupted her reverie by pointing out that neither of them had eaten for several hours and that the restaurant recommended to them was only five minutes’ walk away. The anticipated protest never materialised. Hannah was ready to accept his suggestion. Earlier on, she’d been afraid to stir from the room, but she left it without a murmur this time. On the walk there, she did say that it was good to have a breath of fresh air again. Paul sensed that, as soon as they were in the restaurant, she’d become animated, treating the other people there as an audience.
‘I was hoping you’d grace our establishment, Miss Granville,’ said the head waiter, fawning over her before conducting the two of them to a table in the corner. ‘If there’s anything you need – anything at all – just beckon me over.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the seat he held out for her.
‘I’m sure you’ll find the menu to your liking.’
‘We’ve heard glowing reports of your chef,’ said Paul.
When they were both seated, the waiter stared at Hannah as if in the presence of royalty. It required a nudge from Paul to send him on his way. Studying their
menus, they were able to have a conversation at last, choosing certain items, changing their minds, then reverting to their original choices. Food and wine were safe subjects. The one thing he was determined not to mention was the theatre. Their discussion brought Hannah back to life again and she actually seemed to be enjoying the visit to the restaurant. When she glanced around, a number of people were staring at her. Those who realised who she was were smiling at her, while those who didn’t recognise Hannah simply found her beauty arresting. Between them, the other patrons helped her to blossom.
The meal was excellent and the wine superb. Paul felt that he’d at last regained the woman he loved. Hannah was as vibrant as ever. It was as if she’d forgotten all about the manager’s rebuff. She was starting to make the most of her time in Bath. Then a man and woman, who’d been sitting on the opposite side of the room, rose to leave and made a point of going past Hannah’s table. The woman simply gazed at her in admiration, but the man brushed against her so gently that she hardly felt his touch. For the best part of a minute, she kept on talking. Then she stopped abruptly and looked towards the exit.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Paul.
‘That man touched me on purpose.’
‘I hardly noticed him.’
‘Neither did I, but I’ve just realised who he must be.’ Putting a hand to her mouth, she whispered behind it. ‘It was him, Paul. I swear it.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was the second time that Paul had been alerted about the man, but there was a longer delay on this occasion. It turned out to be fatal. Leaping out of his seat, Paul charged across the room and almost collided with a waiter who’d just entered with bowls of soup on a tray. Paul mumbled an apology, then ran on. When he got into the street, light was fading badly, and he could only see people in fuzzy outline. He picked out a man and a woman just turning a distant corner. Haring after them, he caught them up and accosted them, realising at once that he’d stopped the wrong people. The man was far too old to be the highwayman. Both he and his wife were justifiably indignant at being challenged. Paul sent the couple on their way with a gesture of apology, then he dashed back to the restaurant, going past it until he came to the first turning. He rushed down it but all he could see was a cab fading away into the gloom. It was too far ahead of him to be caught. Paul was on fire with frustration.
He hurried back to the restaurant and found the head waiter.
‘Is anything wrong, sir?’ asked the man.
‘Two people left the restaurant a minute ago,’ said Paul. ‘Do you happen to know who they were?’
‘I’m afraid that I don’t, sir.’
‘Have you ever seen either of them before?’
‘As far as I know,’ said the other, ‘the young lady has never been here before, but the gentleman was vaguely familiar. I thought that Miss Granville might have recognised him.’
‘Why is that?’
‘He was very handsome. He looked like an actor.’
Paul thanked him then went back into the dining area, collecting a lot of inquisitive glances as he did so. Hannah was crushed.
‘Did he get away again?’
‘Yes,’ he said, sinking into his seat. ‘They both disappeared.’
‘So he’s still at liberty.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘He’s never going to leave me alone, is he?’
He studied her. ‘Are you quite sure that it was him, Hannah?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘But you never even looked at him properly.’
‘He touched me, Paul. And he went out of his way to go past our table. They were seated over there,’ she went on, pointing. ‘The easiest way to leave was to go between those other tables. He must have seen me and bided his time. When he left, he made sure that he brushed past me.’
‘There’s another explanation for that.’
‘I can’t see one.’
‘The head waiter believes that the man may be an actor. If that’s true, he’d certainly have noticed you. He couldn’t resist coming across to you and brushing against greatness.’
Hannah’s conviction was momentarily shaken. She wondered if she’d been mistaken, after all. Certainty soon reasserted itself.
‘It was definitely him, Paul.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘The thought that he’s been sitting there and watching me all this time has made my blood run cold.’
‘He was with a young woman, Hannah. She might even have been his wife. I don’t recall his staring in this direction.’
‘I can see how it happened,’ she said, face puckered in thought. ‘This is the finest restaurant in Bath. It’s also the closest to our hotel. He must have realised we’d come here sooner or later.’ Hannah grabbed his wrist. ‘He was lying in wait for me.’
‘That’s mere supposition.’
‘It’s what highwaymen do – they arrange an ambush.’
‘But he didn’t ambush you, my love. He touched you accidentally. I think that your reaction was far too hasty. If he was the man you believe him to be,’ said Paul, ‘why would he risk breaking cover like that?’
Hannah paused to weigh up his argument before dismissing it.
‘I want to leave,’ she declared.
‘But we haven’t finished our meal.’
‘I’ve lost my appetite.’
‘Can’t I at least drink my wine?’
She rose to her feet. ‘Take me back to the hotel, please.’
‘Hannah …’
‘I want to leave now!’
On his return home, the first thing that Peter had to do was escort Abigail Saunders back to the Red Cow in a cab. The reunion with the former Clemency Parry had unlocked the woman’s memory and she was able to confide much more information about the household in which she’d worked happily for so many years. Peter began to get a clearer picture of domestic life with George Parry.
‘His daughter is a very beautiful woman,’ he said. ‘She must have attracted a number of suitors.’
‘That’s true, Mr Skillen.’
‘Was there anybody in particular?’
‘There was a gentleman who’d once worked with her father. He came to the house from time to time. Miss Parry, as I knew her, was fond of him, but it … never went any further.’
‘So this gentleman was her father’s choice of a husband?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘That must have been another reason why he was so angry when his daughter chose someone else. She not only rejected the man he preferred, she fell in love with a foreigner. That must have hurt him.’
‘It did, sir.’
Peter could see that she was dying to ask him a question but lacked the confidence to do so. He told her what she obviously wished to know.
‘My search was futile,’ he confessed. ‘I’m afraid that I didn’t manage to find Joseph Rafter.’
‘What about his brother?’
‘Oh, I finally located him, but I might have saved myself the effort. Nicholas Rafter told me that he and Joseph lost touch with each other many years ago. They hate each other, apparently.’
‘Why?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Is there any other way to find Joseph?’
‘I hope so.’
Arriving in Wapping, Peter helped her out of the cab and asked the driver to wait while he took her into the tavern. He handed her over to her sister, who was in her element in the riotous atmosphere. Abigail cringed at the sight and noise of inebriated, leering men. Peter left the Red Cow and spent the journey home reviewing what the servant had told him. When he got back to his house, he discovered that Mungo Darwood had left and that Charlotte was waiting with Clemency and her chaperon for her husband to join them for dinner. During the meal, they tried to keep off the subject of the search and were instead diverted by a demonstration of Clemency’s fluency in Dutch. Since his command of English was poor, she spoke to Jacob in his native language. When Peter and Ch
arlotte tried to learn a few words in Dutch, they failed miserably to master the correct pronunciation. The others were highly amused.
It was only when he and Charlotte retired to bed that they could talk in private at last.
‘Clemency seemed happier,’ she said.
‘That was because she was able to hear about her father from people she regarded as friends. Abigail always liked her and, I suspect, found the notion of a secret romance rather exciting.’
‘I don’t think you could say that of Mr Darwood.’
‘Perhaps not, but he knew her father well and talked about him with such affection. That bolstered Clemency, I believe,’ said Peter. ‘As for real happiness, she’ll never achieve that until she finds out the truth about her father.’
‘And what is that truth, Peter?’
‘I honestly don’t know.’
‘Clemency has suffered a great deal since she came to London,’ said Charlotte. ‘One setback has followed another. I’m just glad that we’ve been able to relieve that suffering a little.’
‘You’ve been largely responsible for that,’ he said, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek. ‘Because she trusts you so much, she’s been able to open her heart.’
‘She can’t believe that I don’t condemn her for what she did. Clemency is afraid that everyone else does.’
‘Abigail Saunders doesn’t condemn her – and neither does Mr Darwood. He accepts the situation for what it is. Hopefully, that will stop her from wallowing in recriminations. The fact that she left Amsterdam the moment she heard of her father’s death shows how much she still loved him,’ said Peter. ‘She came here fearing hostility and criticism, yet she’s met neither so far.’
‘What surprised me is that – when she first arrived in London – she didn’t try to get in touch with Mr Taylor.’
‘I can do that on her behalf.’
‘From what we were told, I got the impression that he’d been very close to Mr Parry at one time. Why didn’t Clemency seek him out?’
‘As a close friend of her father, it may be that he disapproved of what she did. Inevitably, many people must have done that. Talking of her husband,’ he continued, ‘how did they manage to conduct a clandestine romance when he was so far away?’
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