The Circle of Sappho

by David Lassman

  ‘Do not look so appalled,’ she said. ‘You are all my hetaira and I will say what happens or not within this Circle. And if any of you do not like it, or thinks they might tell someone about our meetings, I suggest you do not, as the consequences will be too terrible to comprehend. Miss Leigh was naïve in her ways, as there is so much more we can achieve through these gatherings.’

  The girls stood in a huddle, confused and in shock. All they knew was that the Circle of Sappho had now been broken and would never be the same again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  For as long as Bridges could remember, George had possessed an eye for the women. He trusted his companion with his life, but not with any female he was friendly with. They had grown up roaming the streets together, although he did not know how long ago this was. He remembered though when George came to live with him. It was the year they built the row of houses opposite where Mr Swann was shot at by the man in the carriage. As young boys they watched as the walls slowly rose up and earned a little money by doing small jobs for the workers, as well as warning them when their boss was coming so they could stop playing cards and get back to work.

  It was the day the builders had added the windows to the houses that George had found his mother dead. He returned home and there she was, sitting in her chair as though asleep. With no father, brothers or sisters to look after him, he ended up on the streets, sleeping wherever he could find.

  When Bridges told his own mother about George, his family had taken him in. It was hard to feed another mouth at first, but after a short while George paid his way. George always protected Bridges as they grew up and they developed a language between the pair of them, even before Bridges’ mother taught George to ‘finger-speak’; Bridges’ father was also deaf and so his mother had learnt how to communicate with him. She had taught her son as well. Bridges’ vocal chords were intact, or so she once told him, as he could laugh and make noises, but as he could not hear language being spoken, he had no idea how to pronounce it. Bridges and George still used their ‘secret’ language when they did not want anyone knowing what they were saying; this was usually when they found themselves in a spot of trouble.

  There was an older brother in the family but he had died. All Bridges could remember was that it had been sunny the day he last saw him. Bridges was down by the river, with George, when his brother came along and gave him a wooden knife he had just made. That was the last time Bridges saw him. It later became common knowledge that he had been killed by a local gang and his body thrown into the river, but even though he and George looked, they had never found any sign of it.

  George had taken over as his protector full time, but it did not take long for Bridges to toughen up himself and together they became a match for the other children who tried to intimidate them. Looking back, it was always like that; George and Bridges against everyone else.

  They had become thief-takers because of a magistrate. They had grabbed a man and held onto him as he came out of a building, after someone had shouted for them to do so. The gentleman who shouted, and whose house had been broken into, turned out to be the magistrate. He asked them if they wanted to become thief-takers. They were not quite sure what this entailed, but when he told them how much money they could make they said yes straight away. They soon began to get a reputation as a couple of hard men and on several occasions were asked to join one gang or another; but they always preferred to work alone.

  Although they had earned good money, their financial situation had still been tough until Mr Swann arrived the previous year. Before his arrival, they had only been paid when they caught someone. Mr Swann, however, paid them regularly, whether they were successful or not. They had learned from the time they were children not to trust people with lots of money, but there was something different about Mr Swann, something they had both acknowledged from the moment they had seen him in the Duke of York asking about Wicks.

  They were now in the Fountain Inn, waiting to meet Mr Swann and they had information which was sure to please him. It was the previous evening when the man Swann was asking about had been seen by the stallholder. The man was with Wicks. They were going into the Duke of York when the stallholder had noticed them. He had been certain it was him, but even more so after being shown the portrait they had been given by Mr Swann. Hopefully this information would put Mr Swann in a generous mood and they would get a little extra money. Everything was going well for them, Bridges thought, it was just a shame his thoughts were so troubled.

  ‘The ‘trouble’ was a woman called Rosie, or rather the situation she now found herself in. Bridges had met her one evening at the Fountain; she had been with a group of women while he had been alone, as George was off in another part of town with a married woman. One of the women in the group could finger-speak, although not deaf herself, and she had ‘spoken’ for him when it became obvious he and Rosie had eyes for each other. The woman had also accompanied them the first few times they had gone out together – George had made up a foursome although lost interest after the second outing – but they had been on their own after that, as Rosie had learnt enough to finger-speak with Bridges.

  Rosie lived in nearby Peter Street, although her landlord now wanted her out and had recently increased the rent several times, to the point where she could no longer afford to pay it. Bridges had given her what money he could and, added to her wages from her job at the factory, it had been enough for a while. However, with the latest increase it was no longer enough. Bridges had gone to confront the landlord but the meeting developed into a fight, resulting in Bridges’ black eye. The landlord now told Rosie she had to leave by the end of the week or she would be forcibly removed. That was in five days’ time.

  When Bridges told George about it, he had refused to help. Rosie had met with Mr Swann to tell him about knowing Thomas Malone back in Ireland and, later that evening, after Mr Swann had left, George had made a crude pass at Rosie while Bridges was out the back of the inn. On his return he found George gone, his lifelong friend bearing a grudge against Rosie, to the point that he would not even discuss Bridges’ suggestion of letting her stay with them until she found somewhere else. Rosie was making the best of it. She had laughingly told Bridges she would pawn her most treasured possession, a beloved violin – which she had had in her possession since childhood – and buy a mansion, but Bridges was worried for her and did not know what to do. He only hoped something would turn up and that it would be soon.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After Swann had finished at the abbey, he had returned to the house in Great Pulteney Street and had spent the next couple of hours checking his manuscript to make sure the information he had verified was correct. Once finished, he had left and headed towards the Avon Street district. He was to meet George and Bridges later that evening, but first had to change into a disguise.

  When Swann had engaged the artist to create a portrait of the Scarred Man the previous autumn, he had inadvertently led Wicks straight to him. He had even been followed once when he was in disguise, or so he believed, and had therefore decided to take more precautions.

  The warehouse Swann had subsequently rented for his more covert activities was in the Avon Street district, near the river. Its rear entrance was located at the end of several long and narrow passageways; ideal for observing if anyone was following behind. It was also ideal for keeping his promise to Mary of not bringing his ‘work’ home. Once at the warehouse he would choose a disguise; the space that the large building afforded meant he could keep a complete wardrobe of clothes, make-up, wigs and other assorted items there, much more than he would have been able to do at either the house in Great Pulteney Street or his consulting rooms at No.40 Gay Street. Once changed, he would then simply leave via one of the passageways and quickly lose himself among the throng of people always around in the area. From there he would be free to continue on to his destination, which tonight entailed meeting the pair of thief-takers, George and Bridges, at the Fountain Inn.
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br />   Swann sat at the writing desk he had set up in the library of the house in Great Pulteney Street. Light from the full moon came shining through the nearby window and he had no need of a candle to be able to see. He opened a bottle of ’98 Lafite, poured himself a glass of the red wine and began to write his journal. He always tried to write an entry each day, recollecting his thoughts and any main developments in the cases he was working on.

  He had not long arrived back from his meeting with George and Bridges, but the events of the whole day now invaded his mind, all wishing to be recorded as he opened his journal to the last entry and began to write.

  Bath, Monday 26th March, 1804

  Am I forever to be cursed to live my present life entwined with the ghosts of past ones? The day has presented a number of surprises and, at the same time, memories of an earlier existence have been resurrected and brought to consciousness once more.

  The book Miss Jennings mentioned was so familiar to me, even after all this time, it was all I could do to stop myself calling out my beloved’s name; that sweet sound I used to savour each time it emanated from my lips. But then why should it not be so, ‘The Adventures of Telemachus’ was her favourite work of literature and she used to read it to me when we were together to try and convert me to become one of its many admirers.

  But I must stop there, for if I continue down this path of recollection I shall find the way too painful to bear. I know one day that I shall record it within these pages and spare no agonising detail, but now is not the time; there are other matters from the past that call for my attention.

  The Scarred Man represents my life’s work, or rather the work I have dedicated my life to; that of bringing those who killed my father to justice. I was perhaps one step closer to realising it for a while today. The confirmation of his presence in Bath, by George and Bridges at our meeting this evening, was swiftly made obsolete by the further news, delivered by the landlord of the Fountain Inn, that the Scarred Man had left the city that morning. My instinct in the White Hart, to search the streets to find him, was therefore correct. I may well have sighted him if I had done so, but now he is gone from my grasp once more.

  One positive aspect to this episode is that I realise I felt his presence while in the city. The feeling that he was near came on late yesterday afternoon and was similar to when I encountered Malone at the fair all those years ago.

  As disappointed as I am at this turn of events, I am not wholly downhearted for two good reasons. First, this sensing of him means I may now know when he is in close proximity and I intend, therefore, to follow my instincts next time. And second, I fully believe this will be sometime soon. Why am I so certain? Given that Thomas Malone was Wicks’ predecessor in the city, and a connection has now been established between the Scarred Man and the two of them, it can be assumed there exists an association between the criminal element in Bath and that of London. And given the Scarred Man’s former link with Thomas Malone, it can only be assumed he also has a connection with his brother, even after all these years. Also, on leaving the city, he headed out on the Bristol Road, not the London Road, which means he may surely pass through Bath on his return to the capital.

  Why Thomas Malone was murdered remains a mystery. Since being in Bath I have learnt that Wicks was responsible for the killing, but why did he perpetrate it? Probably to assume control of the city by usurping Malone; but did Wicks know of his connection to the London underworld (and who he was related to) when he killed him? What is strange is that the London connection seemed unconcerned by the murder, and merely continued with Wicks in charge as they had done previously with Malone’s brother; business as usual. But this does not ring true in my mind and I believe that Wicks knew exactly who Thomas Malone was associated with in London and, likewise, that his brother knew exactly what was going to happen in Bath and did not stand in the way. Whether the London Malone ordered his own brother’s death or merely allowed it to take place, the question remains as to what Thomas Malone had done to warrant his murder.

  If it were not for the case I have undertaken for Lady Harriet, I would leave for Bristol this very moment and search the streets until I found him. But where would I even begin to look? As well as I may believe that I know the intricacies of Bath’s criminal world and its streets, passages and alleyways, it would be like starting again in Bristol. I could send George and Bridges there again, but to what end? What could they find out in that city which could not be gathered in this one. Given the Scarred Man was heading in the direction of Bristol, it can be assumed, perhaps, that this city is also part of Malone’s criminal web. I am certain that the Scarred Man will come back through Bath on his return to London, whenever that is, and this is my best chance of coming face-to-face with him. Failing that, I need to find out as much as I can about Wicks’ operation in Bath and its connection to London. I will find George and Bridges tomorrow and ask them to make enquires and ascertain if any disgruntled members of Wicks’ gang are willing to disclose the information I require.

  In the meantime, I will attempt to solve the case undertaken for Lady Harriet, although the more I think about it the more I fail to understand why she requires my services at all, given her connection with the government’s network of secret agents.

  I cannot believe the conspiracy angle Lady Harriet mentioned though; that of Napoleon, through his secret network, having killed the girl and her teacher. If there is a murderer, then I believe either he or she to reside within the school grounds. I intend to learn more when I return there tomorrow.

  At least I am not involved in Fitzpatrick’s blackmail case. As much as I am sorry to disappoint my friend, it is one problem I am pleased not to have to concern myself with.

  While I have been writing this entry one thought has come to mind: is it more than coincidence I was otherwise engaged with this potentially nonsensical case for Lady Harriet while the Scarred Man was in the city? Only time will tell.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Early on Tuesday morning Swann hired a chaise and drove out to the school at Grove Park, where the deaths had taken place two days previously. The morning was dry and a slight breeze added to the pleasantness of the journey. The lone horse, harnessed to the chaise, made fair speed as it trotted up one of the northern hills out of the city and onto the flat expanse that was Lansdown.

  The main building, Grove House, named after its original owner and where the majority of classrooms and dormitories of the school were now located, had been built in the late fourteenth century. It had once stood in the middle of grounds twice as large as they were today, but even so, the land that still surrounded it was generous. The estate had remained in the Grove family for one hundred and fifty years before being sold to a wealthy, self-made gentleman, who it was said had acquired his fortune by mysterious means. The new owner immediately set about altering the estate to his own design. He enlarged the gardens, covered the grounds with Classical statues and dammed the main stream that ran through the estate, so creating an island surrounded by a lake. Meanwhile, inside the main house, it was rumoured that major alterations had been undertaken in great secrecy. False panelling and underground tunnels were said to have been installed, but these were, for the most part, merely the idle musings of the local clientele who frequented the nearby inn.

  It was also suggested that all this work, both internal and external, had been for the mistress of the house, who held clandestine meetings with her female friends and where obscene rituals were performed naked. Whether this was true or not, nobody knew for certain. But what was known, however, was that after she died her husband abandoned the estate and moved abroad. The house and grounds was auctioned off in lots, with the main buildings and immediate land bought by an anonymous bidder. This person had subsequently become the main benefactor of the school that Miss Jennings opened.

  Swann arrived at the gates to Grove Park and immediately noticed the absence of the protestors, which may have been, he surmised, due to the early hour. On being
announced, he spoke briefly to Miss Jennings, who had arranged for him to interview the girls who had shared a dormitory with the dead girl. Before this, however, he requested permission to speak to Mr Bolton – the girl’s ‘protector’ and temporary French master. Miss Jennings agreed and said she would assemble the first girl in thirty minutes’ time, in her office. Swann thanked her and left.

  Swann found John Bolton outside, standing on the lawn near the house. The other man was obviously expecting Swann as he did not seem surprised when he came up beside him. Swann was not sure whether the man knew the truth of the incident, whether Lady Harriet had enlightened him, or if he was still under the impression the two women had been killed in a boating accident. He therefore kept his questioning vague enough not to reveal the true circumstances if Bolton was unaware.

  ‘I would like to ask you to describe to me your movements yesterday morning,’ said Swann. And then, almost as an afterthought, added: ‘Your name seems a familiar one to me, have we met before?’

  ‘Not that I am aware,’ replied the other man. ‘As for my movements yesterday, I have told everything to Lady Montague.’

  ‘Well,’ said Swann with more than a little annoyance in his tone, ‘I am asking you to repeat it for me, as my services have been engaged to discover exactly how the girl you were meant to be protecting came to be killed.’ This seemed to convince the man and once he had cleared his throat, he began to speak.

  ‘After the early meal and when the others had left for church, I accompanied Miss Templeton to the dormitory. She said she wished to complete the packing of her clothes.’