‘What did you put in there?’ Annabelle asked.
‘Just some olive oil, warmed slightly. Nothing remarkable.’ Kent smiled. His appearance was immaculate, expensive and professional. A spotless frock coat and striped trousers, the crisp wing collar and black tie. His hands were scrubbed, nails clipped short, teeth white and even. Every inch a gentleman. ‘You can find it at the chemist.’
‘I have some at home,’ she replied. ‘I’ve always used it for earache.’
‘It’s good for quite a few things.’ He moved his gaze and ran a hand over his chin. ‘Mr Harper, I have to confess there’s nothing I can see that would account for your problems.’ The man’s manner was formal and precise.
‘What can I do, then?’ the inspector asked.
‘You have to understand, there’s so much we don’t know.’ Kent steepled his pale fingers in front of his face. ‘I can’t tell you what causes the temporary loss of hearing you’ve been experiencing. And I’m afraid I can’t guarantee it won’t continue or grow worse.’
‘So there’s nothing,’ Harper said flatly. He felt cheated, that he’d wasted his time coming here.
The doctor removed his spectacles and polished them on a snowy handkerchief. ‘I wouldn’t say nothing. Use the oil every week and keep your ears very clean. That will prevent the wax building up.’
‘But?’ Annabelle prompted.
‘Your hearing will degenerate as you grow older,’ Kent continued. ‘That happens to everyone, of course. The blow you received affected something inside your ear. You already know that,’ he continued before Harper could speak. ‘It means the process will probably happen sooner rather than later. I’ve seen cases like this before. There will be more episodes of hearing loss but it will return, if that’s some comfort to you. With luck, the worsening will take some time.’
‘I see.’ Kent was supposed to be the best in Leeds. He’d expected something more, somehow, some strand of hope for all the money they were paying. Instead, all he’d heard was the same thing he’d been told before. He was under sentence of deafness and no one could tell him when it would begin. He stood up. ‘Good day, then.’
They stood on the steps outside the building. A few people were walking around, rich women wrapped in their furs, men strolling at their side. Carriages were parked along the road.
‘I’m sorry, Tom. I thought he might have something.’ She put her arm through his and they began to stroll up the street.
‘So did I.’ The years ahead looked bleak.
‘Just as long as you know that whatever happens, we’ll do it together.’ Her fingers squeezed hard against him. ‘You understand?’
He smiled, bobbed his head and kissed her. ‘I do.’
Annabelle grinned. ‘Anyway, you’ll look handsome with one of those ear trumpets.’
He felt as if he’d been underwater and was slowly rising to the surface. But the distance seemed like miles and miles, each one a slow struggle. Finally he thought he was breathing air again and forced himself to open his eyes.
Everything was a blur. Colours, green and white that blended together, faint shapes he couldn’t make out. He tried to raise his head but he didn’t have the strength. He felt something touching his hand and a voice that seemed to come through tears.
‘About time you woke up, Billy Reed. You’ve been sleeping long enough.’
He’d dreamed. He remembered that. Of places he’d been in the army. Barracks in York and Kabul. The warmth and the blue sea of Gibraltar. Travelling across to India in a ship. He’d even been able to smell the stench of the hold vividly, just as if he was there. He’d had conversations with old comrades, many of them long since dead, but with him in his mind.
‘Billy?’ He turned his head slightly towards Elizabeth’s voice. Her face was still blurred, nothing even or clear, no matter how much he blinked. But it was better than it had been an hour before, he thought. ‘I’ve missed you, love.’
He let his mouth ease into a smile and moved his hand to take hers. His whole body ached, it didn’t feel like it belonged to him.
He’d dreamed about Elizabeth, too, he remembered suddenly. They’d been somewhere near the sea, somewhere sunny and peaceful. He strained for the details but everything evaporated like mist.
‘How did you know I was here? Who told you?’ It was still an effort to speak, to form the words and force them out. ‘Water, please.’
He felt the cup against his lips, her hand supporting the back of his head and he drank, four gulps, then five, wetting his mouth and tongue and sliding smooth down his throat.
‘Mrs Harper came and brought me,’ she said.
‘What about the children? Where are they?’
‘Don’t you worry about them,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Me mam has them. And the Harpers are looking after me. I’m staying at that pub of hers.’
She’d had to explain to him what had happened, how he’d ended up here. He hadn’t lied, he simply had no memory of it at all. He’d been on an omnibus, he knew that. It had been stopped a long time. He recalled leaving it, the cold wind so sharp it could cut his face. And that was all until he woke up.
The doctor had examined him, shining a light deep into his eyes, testing his reactions. He hadn’t said a word. Reed could hear people in the distance, the cry of someone in pain, feet moving swiftly. He’d been unconscious a long time. But he still felt tired.
‘I need to sleep,’ he told her.
‘You go ahead, love. I’ll be here.’
He smiled again and drifted away.
Harper spent an hour sending out squads of constables to search in twos and threes. Superintendent Kendall was back in Wortley. The toll of children who’d died in the fire was up to nine, another five not expected to last the day. The city was in shock; he’d seen the front page of the Post that morning, all the sorrow and questions. The assault on Reed had been a story on page two.
The Wortley tragedy was terrible, but he couldn’t afford to let it touch him. He had too much to do. He was about to leave and go out searching, when Sergeant Tollman came through.
‘There’s a lady to see you, sir.’
‘Who? Did she give a name?’ It couldn’t be Annabelle, he’d only left her a few minutes before.
‘Mrs Le Prince, sir.’
The inspector sighed. He didn’t have time for her. He couldn’t do anything about the Le Prince disappearance; he’d banished it from his thoughts. But he needed to be polite. She moved in the right circles; she knew people. He sat her down and offered a cup of tea, then listened attentively as she spoke and produced several sheets of paper from her handbag.
‘I’ve had a communication from a friend in New York, Inspector. Her husband has heard that Mr Edison has plans to file a patent on a single lens moving picture camera.’
‘Isn’t that what your husband intended to do?’
‘Yes!’ she said triumphantly, waving the letter. ‘Don’t you see, this is proof that he could have had my husband murdered!’
He knew she must be frantic, wondering what had happened. If she’d brought him something definite, he’d have helped her however he could. But this …
‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘Is there anything to say this Edison has filed his patent?’
‘No,’ she answered with a sniff. ‘He hasn’t done it yet.’
‘Then I’m afraid there’s no evidence.’ He turned as Tollman knocked on the door and slipped in.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but I thought you’d want to know. They’ve just telephoned from the infirmary. Sergeant Reed has regained consciousness.’
‘Thank you,’ Harper said, feeling the relief flood through him as he stood. Please God, Billy would be able to tell him what had happened. ‘Make sure the super knows. And would you send word to Mrs Harper, please.’ He turned to the woman. ‘Mrs Le Prince, I’m afraid I need to go.’ He’d never have a better reason for leaving someone.
‘We haven’t finished yet, Inspector. There�
�s more.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he told her. ‘It’ll have to wait. This is urgent.’
Ash was waiting by Tollman’s desk.
‘Come on,’ Harper told him.
The first snowflakes began as they walked up the Headrow.
‘Ground as cold as this, it’s going to settle,’ Ash said, scuffing his sole over the paving stones. ‘Going to be nasty later.’
‘How do things stand? Any word?’
‘Not as you’d notice, sir. There was a sniff of the murderers out towards Armley yesterday but it was nothing. They might have left Leeds.’
He’d considered that the night before, in the hours before sleep arrived. But his gut told him they were still here.
‘Two of them are married, they have children. They’re not going to run. Would you?’
‘No,’ Ash admitted. ‘I’d want to see my family.’
‘We have men on their houses in case they go back.’
‘What about the ones who attacked the sergeant, sir? Any leads yet?’
‘Maybe Billy remembers,’ was the best reply he could give.
By the time they passed the Town Hall, there was already a thin covering of snow on the ground and the flakes flew against their faces. Inside the infirmary they shook themselves, leaving small puddles on the tile floor.
Elizabeth was sitting by the bed, stroking Reed’s hand and talking to him in a soft voice. The sergeant’s eyes were barely open. His face was thin and worn, the stubble a thick, dark colouring on his cheeks.
‘You scared the hell out of us, Billy,’ Harper said with a smile. ‘I hope you’re ready to get up now.’
‘I might need a while yet.’ His voice was a raw croak.
‘You know I’m going to need to ask you some questions very soon.’
‘I know, but I don’t remember it, Tom. None of it.’
‘Nothing at all?’
Reed gave a small shake of his head and the inspector glanced over at Elizabeth. She was frowning, glowering at him. He knew why; she’d just got her man back and he was stealing her precious time with him. But the sergeant was awake, he could speak and make sense, and Harper thanked a God he didn’t really believe in. It would take a long time but he was on the mend. He reached out and patted the sergeant on the shoulder, trying not to show the disappointment he felt inside. He’d been relying so much on Billy being able to give him chapter and verse.
‘You get some rest. You’ve got someone here who’ll look after you.’
The inspector found the doctor talking to one of the nurses. He was a young man with a heavy beard and an intense, hunted look on his face. The best he could manage was hope.
‘He’s woken well. But it’s going to take a while, Inspector. We still don’t know if there’s lasting damage.’
With a nod Harper left, jamming the hat on his head as they walked back out on to the street. The snow was coming down thick as fog; he could barely see ten yards ahead. But not pure, not white. In Leeds it was always fell grey and ugly, tainted by all the smoke in the air. Already, horses and carts were beginning to slip on the cobbles. Traffic would soon be at a standstill. He hunched his shoulders inside his coat.
‘What do you want to do now, sir?’ asked Ash.
He didn’t know. He truly didn’t know.
TWENTY-ONE
‘Sir.’
Harper had only taken a pace inside the door at Millgarth before Tollman was calling him. The inspector tried to brush the layer of snow from his shoulders and stamp it off his boots.
‘What is it?’ he asked as he wiped moisture from his face.
‘There’s a body. It sounds like it could be Fields.’
The inspector looked at Ash and the constable raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘Where is it?’ Harper asked.
‘Meanwood Road, sir. Out just past the leather works and the Methodist chapel.’
‘How long ago did they find it?’
‘A bit over an hour or so, sir.’
‘Right, we’re on our way.’
‘Sir?’ Tollman said.
‘What?’ he turned in exasperation.
‘How’s Sergeant Reed?’
‘He’s awake, right enough, and talking. Making sense, too.’
Tollman grinned ‘That’ll be a first for him. It’s good news; I’ll pass the word, sir.’
At least the tram was running along Meanwood Road. People were crammed inside, avoiding the cold of the open upper deck, the air heavy with the smells of wet wool and sweat. Harper stood, clinging tight to a leather strap and watched Ash talk to the conductor as if they were old friends.
The constable had all the makings of a good detective, there was no doubt about that. He asked the right questions, had a sharp eye and the kind of easy manner that drew people out without them even realizing. They needed more like him, ones who thought on their feet. His size didn’t hurt, either. His eyes might twinkle and he smiled a lot, but he was tall and broad enough to make people think twice before challenging him.
Harper leaned forward, trying to pick out any landmark through the window. Someone had pawed at the glass, trying to wipe away the condensation. But the snow was so heavy it was difficult to be certain of anything. Finally he heard Ash call out and he threaded his way through the people.
‘It’s right around here somewhere, sir.’ They moved slowly up the street. At first, the warmth from the bodies on the tram made the flakes melt on them. Within a minute it was clinging and coating them in white.
‘Over there.’ Harper pointed into the murky distance beyond an imposing stone building. ‘That looks like waste ground.’
Ash sniffed. ‘Right by the leather works, too. Can’t mistake that smell, can you?’
The copper looked like a white statue. His cap and cape were covered with snow, only the face showing a frozen pink.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Harper. You have a body here?’
The man moved, the flakes cascading off him as he brought his arm up for a salute. So bloody young, the inspector thought. He barely looked old enough to grow the moustache intended to make him look mature.
‘It’s behind there, sir.’ The bobby gestured at a small hillock in the middle of the waste land. A sapling with bare, thin branches struggled on the summit. ‘Some lads were on their way up to the park and stopped here to play king of the castle. They’re the ones who found him.’
Harper led the way, crouching down and rubbing dirty snow off the body. Pale hair, white skin that was icy to the touch. It could be Fields. He lifted one of the man’s hands close to his face and the strong stench of fish hit him.
‘It’s Fields.’
‘Makes you wonder who killed him,’ Ash said slowly.
The inspector kept brushing until he could see all the man’s body. There were marks on the neck. He shifted the head for a clearer look. ‘Strangled. Probably happened right here.’
The uniform had turned away, deliberately not looking. It was probably the first murder he’d seen.
‘What houses are there in the area?’ Harper asked.
The constable gulped in a little air. ‘The streets over there are the Serbias and those are the Herberts back behind the chapel, sir.’
‘You know the people?’
‘Yes sir, this is my beat.’
‘Get yourself round the houses and start asking if anyone saw or heard anything last night. If you’re lucky, they’ll give you a cup of tea. If you find anything, send word to Millgarth.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He marched away.
‘What are we going to do with this one?’ Ash wondered.
‘One for King’s Kingdom, I think.’ It was their name for the office of the police surgeon, Dr King, over at the station in Hunslet. ‘See what he can tell us. You stay here, I’ll have him picked up as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, sir.’
No objection, no resentment at standing out in the cold and snow, Harper thought. Ash would make a bloody good detect
ive.
Reed didn’t know how long he’d slept, but when he woke his vision was a little clearer. It was still blurred, but he could make out more detail. And Elizabeth was there at the bedside waiting for him.
‘Feel better?’ she asked. He did, he realized. Stronger. More a part of the world. He frowned, trying to remember.
‘Was Tom here before?’
‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘You said you didn’t know what happened when you were attacked.’
‘I don’t.’ He shook his head gently. ‘I really don’t.’
‘Don’t you worry about that for now, Billy. I’ve got something for you to eat. You missed dinner, so it’s gone cold. But it doesn’t look too bad. Come on.’
Tenderly, she eased him up until he was sitting, plumping the pillows against his back. He looked around the bare room, able to discern the shape of a table, the bedstead, her hair pulled back into a bun.
She fed him like a baby, spoonful by spoonful. It was soup of some kind, still faintly warm, thick and nourishing. As he began to eat he realized how hungry he was, chewing the slice of bread and swallowing it eagerly, washing everything down with tea that was barely lukewarm. When he finished Elizabeth mopped around his mouth with a serviette.
She left him with a nurse when he needed the bedpan, and sat with a sigh when she returned.
‘It’s snowing. Must be two or three inches. Nothing’s moving out there.’
He could picture it. Silent, empty, only ghosts around, footprints quickly covered, as if they’d never been there.
‘Do you remember what I asked you on Boxing Day?’ Elizabeth asked.
He tried to recall. They’d talked about many things.
‘No,’ he answered honestly.
‘I asked what your intentions were.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s just that all this, it’s made me think, Billy.’
‘What?’ he asked slowly, not certain he wanted to hear her reply. His gut lurched at the threat of losing her.
‘Seeing you there, not knowing if you’d wake up and wondering what would happen if you …’
Two Bronze Pennies Page 18