‘A piece of glass, sir. It is cut crystal, I believe, but more finely worked than any I have seen before. I found it lying at the edge of the footway.’
The inspector narrowed his eyes. ‘Give it over,’ he said.
Gideon deposited the fragment carefully in his outstretched palm. ‘Is it of interest, sir?’
Cutter made no reply as he scrutinised the shard, and when the door was opened he enveloped it with a smooth movement in a handkerchief and concealed it in his coat. A servant of grave and corpulent appearance came into view, whom Gideon supposed to be the butler. His acquaintance with households of the better sort was slight.
‘There now,’ said Inspector Cutter. ‘There is some life in this place after all. Tell me, had you a long way to come to reach the door? I hope I did not put you to the trouble of digging a tunnel, or of clambering up from a well?’
The servant appeared dimly troubled by these notions. ‘I do beg your pardon, sir.’
‘As well you might,’ said Cutter. ‘What am I to call you, if I am forced to do so?’
‘Carew, sir. Of Lord Strythe’s household. And may I inquire—’
‘I will thank you not to. I am Inspector Cutter, of New Scotland Yard. This is Sergeant Bliss. I am informed of an incident on these premises.’
‘Indeed, sir,’ said Carew. ‘If you will be so good as to come in, I will make you and the sergeant comfortable in the kitchen while I relate the particulars to you.’
The prospect of being made comfortable in the kitchen seemed very agreeable to Gideon, but Inspector Cutter was not of the same mind. When they had been admitted and Carew had closed the door behind them, the inspector made no move to go further.
‘Did the incident occur in the kitchen?’ he said.
Carew turned to him with great solemnity. ‘No, Inspector. It was in another part of the house. But perhaps you will take some refreshment while I—’
‘We have no business in the kitchen if no incident occurred in it. We are not the butcher and his boy. Where did it happen?’
‘In an upper part of the house, sir.’
Inspector Cutter glanced at Gideon, then approached Carew more closely. The fearsome intensity with which Gideon was now familiar had returned to his expression, along with a pronounced incredulity, as if he had been told that the incident had occurred in some region of the faery kingdom. ‘An upper part?’
‘Indeed, sir.’
‘Tell me this, Carew. Do you oversee the serving of His Lordship’s dinners?’
‘I oversee the whole of His Lordship’s household, sir.’
‘Well, then. Have you ever informed His Lordship that he was to dine on the upper part of a cow?’
‘Certainly not, sir.’
‘Or that his breakfast came from the lower part of a chicken?’
Carew shifted his bulk, as if to relieve some interior discomfort. ‘I have not, sir.’
‘No, I should think not,’ said Inspector Cutter. ‘Now, will you be an obliging fellow and show us to the particular room in the upper part of the house where this misfortune occurred. It was a room, I take it, and not a chimney or a nest in the eaves?’
‘Very good, Inspector. But I hope you will refrain from any further levity, for you find us all greatly saddened at what has occurred.’
‘Levity?’ Inspector Cutter’s face darkened, and he clamped his hand for a moment over his jaw. For an instant, Gideon imagined that some predatory creature lurked within him, and might burst from him at any moment like an unhooded hawk from its perch. ‘Levity? Will you tell me, Carew, do you keep an eye to the newspapers at all?’
‘On occasion, sir. As my duties permit.’
‘Did you ever read of the case of the children of Dr St John?’
‘The Slaughter of the St Johns?’ Carew’s eyes widened, but he checked himself almost at once. ‘I believe I saw some mention of it.’
‘And do you recall how many children the St Johns had, and what their ages were?’
‘Not to an exactness, Inspector. I would not have had the leisure to—’
‘Five. There were five St John children. The eldest was Anthony, a boy of thirteen, and the youngest was Matilda. Matilda was a babe of fifteen months, and was still nursed at the time of her death. Do you know how it is that I come to know that?’
‘No, Inspector. How could I?’
‘You could not. And I will do you the kindness of keeping it from you, for I assure you it is a thing that would never leave you. But I will tell you this much. I know their names and their ages. I know the colour of each one’s hair, and I could give you a litany of every scrap of clothing that was on them. I know these things because it was I who came to that house after what was done there, and it was I who tended to them when they were beyond any other help. It was I who spent two days in that room, and who saw to it that no one set foot in it until every speck of dust was accounted for. It was I who made the photographic plates that were shown to the jurors, since the Frenchman we depend upon in the normal course would come no further than the head of the stairs. Did you know, Carew, that the adult teeth of a small child are formed in her jaw long before the milk teeth are lost?’
‘I did not, Inspector.’
‘Yes, it is a remarkable thing. They are hidden away until they are called for, in a tiny and perfect array. The workings of nature are a puzzle, and I suppose I have been fortunate to have glimpsed them as others have not. But you may be certain of this much, Carew. If I had any great store of merriment when I went into that house – and I suspect I had not, if the truth be known – then it was gone from me entirely when I came out, and it has never troubled me again.’
Throughout this address, Carew had stood warily apart, as if he might at any moment be obliged to lumber away or ward off a blow. He relaxed his posture now, and cleared his throat at some length. ‘I am sorry to hear it, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I meant no slight to you, sir. I read only a little of that sad business, and I must confess that your name had not stayed with me.’
The inspector did not immediately reply. He raised his arm a little way, and for a giddy moment Gideon believed that he meant to deliver a clout to the side of Carew’s head. But Cutter was merely gesturing towards the staircase.
‘This “upper part” of the house,’ he said. ‘If we are to make our way to it, I believe we will be obliged to make use of the stairs.’
‘Of course, Inspector.’ Carew turned to lead the way. ‘And when you have finished in the workroom, I expect you will want to examine the unfortunate Miss Tull herself, or her mortal remains, as I suppose we must say.’
Inspector Cutter had fallen into step behind Carew, but now brought himself up short. His shoulders rose, and he clamped a hand across his brow. ‘A moment, Carew, if you please,’ he said.
Carew came ponderously about. ‘Inspector?’
‘Now, Carew,’ said Cutter. ‘You have told us precious little since we arrived, though it was not for want of talking, and here you are now telling us a good deal all at once. I ought to be thankful for it, but I cannot say that I am. I have shown uncommon patience until now, but if you are not careful I will show you something else altogether.’
Carew’s face showed the stirring of indignation. ‘Inspector, I really must—’
‘What you must do is give me plain and simple answers to my questions, and no more of your upper parts. Bliss, you will make note of his answers like a good fellow.’
‘I should be delighted to, sir, but I regret to say I find myself in want of certain necessary items.’
Cutter bowed his head and released a long breath. ‘Certain necessary items,’ he said. ‘Do you mean that you have no notebook or pencil?’
‘I fear not, sir.’
‘You may use mine for now. You may keep them, in fact, since I am no great man of letters and make little use of them. Have you a passable hand, at least, so that you may be put to that use if no other?’
The inspector passed his notebook
and pencil to Gideon, still without turning. ‘Oh, indeed, sir. It has been remarked on as commendably graceful.’
‘Commendably graceful,’ Cutter repeated. ‘Sweet Jesus.’
He lowered his head again, as if he felt a great burden. Carew looked away uneasily, and Gideon could not help but do likewise.
‘Very well,’ Cutter said, when he had regained his composure. ‘The first question, Carew. What was the forename of this Miss Tull?’
‘I believe it was Esther, Inspector.’
‘It is a woman’s name, Carew, not the promise of eternal salvation. Do you believe it, or do you know it?’
‘It was Esther.’
‘Good. And was this Esther Tull in service here?’
‘She was a seamstress, Inspector, who was engaged only on occasion.’
‘A seamstress?’ Cutter said. ‘Lord Strythe is a bachelor, I believe, and it is no long march from here to Savile-row. What use has he for a seamstress? Has he no maids employed who might mend a few stockings?’
‘His Lordship is particular about such things, and Miss Tull was said to be very skilful. She cared for an older sister, who was ailing, and His Lordship was good enough to put her in the way of what work there was.’
‘Have you taken that note, Bliss?’
‘Yes, Inspector.’
‘Put a query by it, for I wish to return to it. Now, Carew, we come to the meat of the matter. No, but that is a poor word to use. Do not put that in the notes, Bliss. We come to the …’
Gideon cleared his throat. ‘To the crux of the matter, sir?’
Cutter’s shoulders rose again, and a moment passed in silence. ‘Thank you, Bliss,’ he said presently. ‘Yes, to the crux of the matter. This seamstress, Miss Tull – she met her end, I take it, in the “incident” that occurred?’
Carew joined his fingertips before his chest and lowered his chin amongst his jowls. ‘I am sorry to say so, Inspector.’
‘And the incident occurred in an upstairs workroom last evening?’
Carew nodded gravely.
‘At what time did it occur, as nearly as you can recollect?’
‘I would say that it was a little after nine o’clock.’
‘A little after nine o’clock?’
‘Yes, Inspector.’
‘Were Miss Tull’s dressmaking skills often called for after nine o’clock in the evening?’
‘Not often, Inspector. But Miss Tull was always most obliging, being mindful of her good fortune.’
‘Of her good fortune? What good fortune was that?’
‘Why, the good fortune of being employed by a notable household, which even a woman of the finest character might envy.’
Cutter cocked his head at this. ‘Am I to take it from that remark that Miss Tull was not of the finest character?’
Carew lifted his jaw from among its folds. ‘I do not wish to be indiscreet, Inspector.’
‘Do you not, indeed? Well, you are falling short of your own aspirations, I am sorry to tell you. What fault had you to find with her?’
‘Well, since I am put to it, Inspector, I understand that she was given to thievery, in her youth. She was born to it, as you might say, her father being in that line. But His Lordship, being a man of charity, was prepared to overlook a good deal.’
‘Do you hear that, Bliss? There is uncommon generosity for you. He was prepared to overlook a good deal, you are telling me, if Miss Tull was prepared to be obliging.’
‘Now, Inspector, I did not say—’
‘Put a line under that, Bliss. Tell me, Carew, was the incident of a violent nature?’
‘Yes, sir, it appeared—’ Carew halted and began again. ‘It was, Inspector. Most violent.’
‘And was there another party to this most violent incident?’
‘There was not, Inspector.’
‘Be sure to note, Bliss, that this last answer was given with great certainty. How is it that you are so certain of this point, Carew? Were you present in the workroom when Miss Tull met her end?’
‘Of course not, Inspector. You do not think, surely, that I would stand by and allow such a thing?’
‘I am some way from thinking anything surely, Carew, but it seems you are far ahead of me. How is it, tell me, that you come to be so sure if you were not with Miss Tull at the time? This is a house of a fine size, and you have a parlour of some kind, I expect, that you may go to after nine o’clock in the evening if you are not wanted. Miss Tull might have been going great guns on a trumpet and you would not have known it.’
‘The top floor is a quiet part of the house, Inspector, and out of the way of things. A woman working up there alone might be troubled by her nerves, being mindful of which, I kept close by.’
‘You kept close by?’
‘I found some occupation for myself on the top floor while Miss Tull was at her work, so as to give her the comfort of knowing that she was not all alone.’
‘Do you hear that, Bliss? That was very handsome of Carew, was it not?’
‘Indeed, sir. It was most gallant.’
‘Put a star by that observation, Bliss. What is the proper name for those little fellows?’
‘An asterisk, sir?’
‘There, you have it. Put an asterisk by that, for I hardly know what to make of it. Now, Carew, you have come up very much in the standard of your answers, and I hope you will keep that high mark in your sights as we near the finish, for there is one more question I must put to you. If Miss Tull met a violent death by her own hand in the workroom on the top floor, I would expect to find her mortal remains, as you put it, in that very place. Yet you gave me the impression, as we were about to go up the stairs, that her remains are in some other place. Will you solve that little riddle, like a good fellow, before I lose command of myself?’
‘Now, Inspector, there is no cause for agitation. I have been forthcoming from the very first.’
‘You have been no such thing, Carew. When you sent word of what had happened, you said only that an “incident” had taken place. You had the good sense to send word to the Yard, mind you, and not to the local lackeys, but you told them no more than you must.’
‘His Lordship was not at home last night, Inspector, and when he had not returned this morning I felt I must act on my own authority. However, I did not like to say too much. He would not thank me for leaving out scraps that might be fed to newspapermen.’
‘Fed to them by Scotland Yard? Make a note of that disgraceful suggestion, Bliss, and make a note, too, of His Lordship’s absence. We will return to that, but will you kindly tell me first where the body is and how it came to be there?’
Carew looked aggrieved, but with effort he composed himself. ‘Well, Inspector, the fact of the matter is that Miss Tull’s remains are not in the workroom because of the manner in which she took her life. She got onto a ledge outside the window, and from there she leapt to her death. I found her remains not far from the front steps. Now, sir, I hope I have given you satisfaction.’
Inspector Cutter worked over his jaw with fingertips. He put his hands on his hips and allowed his gaze to rove over the finely moulded ceiling. Then he turned away from Carew and paced for a few moments in a small circuit. At length he confronted him again. ‘Have you given me satisfaction? For my breakfast this morning, Carew, my landlady was good enough to prepare a poached egg. I made no complaint, mind you, she being a lady of a nervous disposition, but when I looked down at that egg, as God is my witness, it was like looking into the eye of a dog that was rabid and is two days dead. Yet that same egg gave me considerably more satisfaction than you have managed to do.’
‘But I have told you all, Inspector.’
‘Told me all? Told me all? Here is the sum total, Carew, of what you have told me. You have told me that a seamstress was called to the house of an unmarried gentleman at nine o’clock at night, and that she was put to some work upstairs while you skulked outside with your lug to the door. That is all I got from you, for a
ll your wheezing and foostering. And it only now comes out that when you found the same woman dead in the street, you shovelled her up and took yourself off to bed and did not trouble yourself to report the matter to Her Majesty’s police until this morning. I have never heard the likes of it. Bliss, have you ever heard the likes of it?’
Gideon looked up in some distraction from his notebook. The Inspector had been speaking at a considerable rate, and he had filled up four or five pages already. ‘I have not, sir, but I have recorded the particulars.’
‘Very good, Bliss. Now, Carew, you mentioned that Lord Strythe was not at home. Where is he, if you please, and when will he return?’
‘Lord Strythe was at Ashenden House last evening, where he was the guest of honour at a gala. His Lordship is a man of great charity, as you may know, and he has endowed a new institution. It was to be a very fine affair, with even the Prime Minister in attendance.’
Cutter passed a hand over his eyes, and raised the other in imitation of a flapping mouth. ‘Was His Lordship to remain overnight as a guest?’
‘Not to my knowledge, Inspector.’
‘Is it not unusual, therefore, that he has not returned home?’
‘Somewhat so, Inspector. His Lordship is regular in his habits.’
‘Is there any other place where he might have spent the night?’
Carew considered this. ‘His Lordship lives in a modest way, sir, for a man of his position. When he is not at Westminster or about his charitable works, he is content by and large with his own company.’
‘Not even a club, or a house he might have frequented to play at cards and suchlike? Was there no special companion, who might have received him at odd hours? You need not tie yourself up in knots with discretion, Carew. We have no interest in the gentleman’s private affairs if they have no bearing on the present case.’
‘No, sir, nothing of that nature. I have given it consideration, being anxious to speak with him myself, but I can think of nowhere, other than a house in Kent that is given over to his sister, Lady Ada. Lady Ada has been in poor health for many years, and the air at Vesper Sands gives her some ease. His Lordship is most attentive to his sister.’
The House on Vesper Sands Page 8