‘Candour, sir?’
‘That is the very one. Your candour, yes. I have reservations about your candour, Bliss.’
Gideon bowed his head.
‘And I am bound to say, Bliss, that you are doing very little to put my mind at ease. For it is not only the quality of your report that is remarkable. There is all that fine talk of yours, which is just as if you were reading aloud from The Times, only it is all done without effort. I put it down to drunkenness this morning, but I know to my own satisfaction that you have not taken a drop since then. And I will tell you another thing. I have twenty-two years of service, and I have never before encountered a sergeant of G Division or any other who could have given me the word “candour” as readily as you did just now. And I have not even mentioned the Cambridge business.’
Gideon could not bring himself to look up.
‘You are no sergeant at all, Bliss. You will not deny it, surely?’
‘No, sir.’ He could hardly trust his voice. ‘I will not deny it.’
Gideon had witnessed Cutter’s wrath, though he could not say that he had seen the full extent of it. He braced himself in dread, seeing the inspector approach his chair, but when Cutter put out his hand, he did so only to take hold of Gideon’s chin and scrutinise his face. He did not raise his voice when he spoke.
‘When a fellow tries to pull the wool over my eyes, I generally know the how and the why of it in short order. If I do not, I let him pay out his line for a while until I have his measure, and then I kick his arse for him, or I bring him up before a judge who will kick his arse for him. But this caper I cannot size up. What would possess you to try such a thing, Bliss? You are an educated fellow, that much is plain. Surely you knew what might come of it?’
Gideon lowered his head. ‘I did, sir.’
‘Well, then? What do you have to say for yourself? I want the truth of the matter, Bliss. Every bit of it, do you hear me?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Gideon took a moment to compose himself. ‘The truth of it, sir, is that I acted in desperation. I came to London from Cambridge, that much was true. I came because—’
‘Wait now, we will come to that. What did you do in Cambridge?’
‘I was a student of divinity, sir.’
‘Well, that explains a good deal. Had you not a great future before you, then? You must have been a favourite of the masters there, with all your fine talk.’
‘Well, sir.’ Gideon fidgeted with his cuff. ‘I applied myself, since it was my duty, but I did no more than that. As to my future, well – it was somewhat uncertain, sir.’
‘Oh? And why was that?’
‘Sir, if I may – this has nothing to do with the account I meant to give you. It is not the reason I left Cambridge.’
‘No, but it may be the reason you do not go back. I want every bit of the truth, Bliss. Every bit of it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Gideon took a long draught of his peppermint cordial. He put his hands on his knees and cleared his throat a number of times.
‘I fell out of favour, sir, with the Master of Selwyn College.’
‘Did you now?’ said Cutter. ‘And what was at the root of that, I wonder?’
Gideon clutched at his knees. ‘The Master had been attentive to me, sir. I took his attention for a recognition of my merits, and I welcomed it. But that was not the nature of it, sir. The nature of it was improper, sir.’
‘Here now,’ said Cutter gruffly. He looked uneasily about the dim parlour. ‘Do not upset yourself, man. You sent him away about his business, did you? There is no shame in that for you.’
‘Thank you, sir. I did, sir, but he did not take kindly to it.’
‘Well, that is the way of such fellows. But what of that? I fell out of favour often enough with my own masters. I was still obliged to see out my schooling.’
‘Yes, Inspector. But the Master of the college is the man who presides over it. He is a bishop, sir, and a man of great standing.’
Cutter grunted. ‘A man in that position has much to lose if it is brought to light that he has been lifting some young fellow’s shirt.’
‘He did not – I did not allow any lifting. It is a painful subject, sir, and I hope we need not dwell on it. In any case, the Master’s conduct did not trouble me so much as the doubts it revealed in me. Even before I was called here, the certainty of my vocation had begun to desert me.’
‘Very well,’ said Cutter. ‘Go on with your story. How was it that you fetched up on my doorstep? You did not take to your studies, but that is not the end of the world. Why did you not go home to your father and mother and take whatever medicine was coming to you?’
Gideon had discovered a tear in the knee of his trousers, and he worried at it now with the tip of his index finger. ‘My father and mother are no longer living, sir. I came to London at the request of my uncle, by whose generosity I was educated. I had a letter from him, and since the matter seemed urgent I came straight away. But when I arrived last night I did not find my uncle at home. It was a bitterly cold night, as you may recall, and due to my temporary embarrassment – that part was true also – I was obliged to take shelter in a church. When I presented myself at your doorstep this morning, I had come directly from that place, and had not taken so much as a mouthful of tea since leaving Cambridge.’
Inspector Cutter drew himself up with a grunt of ambivalence. He worked one of his shoulders about in its joint, studying Gideon with great thoroughness as he did so. Then he paced for some time about the cramped parlour, stopping at intervals by the fire to pick his teeth with a matchstick.
‘Well, it is a sorry tale,’ he said at last, flicking his matchstick into the coals. ‘But most tales are, in my experience. And you have not come to the point of it yet. Why was it my door that you came to, of all the doors in London?’
Gideon shifted in his seat. ‘Well, sir, that is the easier part of my explanation. My uncle lives at the same address, or he did until these last few days. I have reason to believe that he has met an unhappy end.’
Inspector Cutter left off his pacing and turned to face him. ‘You are old Nelly’s nephew?’
‘The Reverend Doctor Herbert Neuilly. Yes, sir, I am. I have his letter, if you wish to see it. And there is a firm of solicitors in Cambridge you may send to. They will bear out my claim.’
Cutter studied Gideon with a vexed look, working with his thumb at a knot in his jaw. ‘Well, this alters the complexion of the thing,’ he said at length. ‘It is a sorry bit of news, though I did not know the man well. In Mrs Coombe’s house, as you have seen, we are inclined to keep to ourselves. He was a great fellow for good works, by all accounts. Forever ladling soup into orphans and that kind of carry-on.’
‘Yes, sir. At least, that is my understanding. I came to know a little of my uncle’s work, but no more than that. He provided for my education, but he did not encourage any great intimacy between us. No doubt it would have been a hindrance to his ministry. Still, it is a comfort to know that he was well thought of.’
Cutter cleared his throat gruffly. ‘Well, no doubt he wished to do right by you in his own fashion, but found that his calling left him time for little else. I daresay it is like my own in that way. But let us return to the point, Bliss. You are not off the hook just yet, for you have given no account of the deception itself. Impersonation, no less, which is fraudulent in the eyes of the law. What put such a thing into your head? Why did you not simply state the case as it was, since you had some proof to offer of who you were?’
Gideon shook his head, and with a small groan he lowered it into his hands. ‘Sir, it was an act of—’
‘Here now,’ Cutter put in. ‘This will not do. Sit up and look me in the eye, like a good fellow. It is not a confession if you do it staring at your boots.’
Gideon brought himself warily upright. ‘Forgive me, sir. It is only that you have at times a rather forbidding aspect.’
‘A forbidding aspect?’ Cutter made himself rigid, at which Gideon
was seized with anxiety, but the moment seemed to pass. ‘A forbidding aspect, indeed. Perhaps you are right, Bliss. It is a thing a fellow must cultivate, if he is to be of any use in this profession. Not that you need to concern yourself with such things any longer, since you have given up your bit of foolishness.’
Gideon blinked. ‘But I have not given it up. I had hoped, sir, that by explaining matters to your satisfaction I might have some hope of redeeming myself. And of continuing in your service.’
‘Of continuing in my what?’ Cutter gave him a look of stark incredulity.
‘But I fear it is impossible,’ Gideon said quietly.
‘Well, now. As to that, few things are impossible. You are no great physical specimen, it is true, and that would count against you if you were put forward in the usual way. There are ways and means, however, and I am long enough around the Yard to know my share of them. No, that need not hinder us. But you have mystified me again, Bliss. Why would you want to keep up such a thing, when it will mean trotting after me into every foul lane and tenement in London – for it is not all grand tragedies in Mayfair, I assure you – and enduring my temper day and night. An educated fellow like you might apprentice himself to a QC, or to a firm of clerks at the very least. Why would you persist with it, Bliss?’
Gideon lowered his head. He gave his answer softly. ‘Because I must, sir.’
‘You must?’
Gideon steadied himself. ‘Sir, I mean to give a full and truthful accounting of my actions. I will omit nothing, and on my honour I will not utter a single false word. If at the end of it you still find fault with my conduct, I will thank you for your indulgence and leave you in peace. But if you find it satisfactory, sir, may I ask for something in return?’
‘Something in return?’ The inspector spluttered, upsetting his cordial as he put it down. ‘You are in no position—’
‘I believe you want to know, sir. That you need to know, in fact, and that you will not rest until you do, even though it is a matter of almost no consequence. I believe that is in your nature, sir, if I may make so bold.’
Cutter said nothing, but looked at him as if he had sprouted wings.
‘Will you let me serve on probation, sir, if you are satisfied? Will you keep me on, unless you find some other cause to dismiss me?’
The inspector looked about him in dissatisfaction. He worked a kink from his neck and scoured his palm against the underside of his jaw. He fixed Gideon at last with a look of stark menace. ‘This,’ he said, ‘had better be good.’
X
It was the better part of half an hour before Gideon had given a full account of events, from the moment he entered St Anne’s church to his arrival at the inspector’s own door. By the end of it, he was pacing the floor just as Cutter had done, too much agitated to keep still. While he took care to omit nothing – relating even his shameful encounter with the drunken sergeant – he gave emphasis to certain features of the case, returning more than once to Miss Tatton’s disappearance and speaking with an urgency he could not conceal.
Cutter remained seated throughout, having turned his attention to his own supper. He did not interrupt at any stage, or give any sign that his sympathies had been provoked. Gideon surveyed him anxiously as he resumed his seat, but the inspector was not moved to any immediate reaction, only inclining his head contemplatively as he chewed over the last of his chop.
‘Well, now,’ he said at last, setting down his glass of cordial and swiping his tongue over his upper lip. ‘That was a colourful bit of business, I must say. And you have a way about you with a story, I will give you that. You are like a fellow on the verge of a poem. But I am at a loss, Bliss. Leaving aside your little deception, which we will come back to shortly, what has any of this to do with the Metropolitan Police?’
Gideon stared for a moment in incredulity. ‘There is a missing person, sir. Indeed, it is very likely that there are two. And that may be the least of it, if one takes a certain view of Miss Tatton’s words.’
‘We will return to that in a moment,’ said the inspector, taking a more easeful position in his chair. ‘Who is the first missing person, tell me?’
‘Forgive me, sir. Perhaps I was not clear in my account. Miss Tatton was lying before me when I was put out of my senses by some malefactor. When I awoke she was gone. Angela Tatton is the missing person, sir.’
‘Is that so, Bliss?’ The inspector drew himself up, his sternness returning. ‘Who has reported her missing?’
Gideon hesitated. ‘Why, I have, sir. That is the whole import of my story – that this poor girl has disappeared in unaccountable circumstances, and may now be at risk of greater harm than she had already suffered.’
‘You, Bliss?’ The inspector regarded him balefully. ‘No, that will not do at all. How can you report her missing? Before you came across her in that church, you had never set eyes on that girl in your life. You might just as well tell me that you encountered a pigeon in Trafalgar Square, and that you woke from a doze to find it missing.’
‘You are making fun of me, Inspector. And in any case—’
‘I am giving you a dose of instruction, and one you are sorely in need of. You may give a great account of yourself in trigonometry or Latin verbs, but there are trollops in Houndsditch not three weeks on the job who know more of police work than you do. You cannot report a stranger missing, you empty-headed Canary-bird. For all you know, Bliss, the same girl creeps into that church every night of the week to be out of the cold, but has the good sense to creep out in the mornings before anyone is stirring. She might be about the streets even now with her cart of oysters, or returned to some tinker’s camp. She might be a day’s sailing from Southampton, bound for New York.’
‘She went nowhere of her own accord, sir, that much I am certain of. She was in no fit state to leave by herself, and was plainly in fear of those she believed were returning for her. In any case, sir, she was not a—’
‘Bliss.’ The inspector approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. The heft of it was considerable, though the gesture was kindly meant. ‘You are a tender-hearted soul, I see. Your uncle was the same, no doubt, and saw only innocence and virtue in all he met. Now, that is fine and well for a fellow going into the God-fearing racket, but it will do you no good in my line of work. This Tatton girl had an ungentlemanly companion, no doubt, who used her ill and put your lights out when he found you with her. It is a sorry tale, but believe you me, it is not a hundredth part of the misery that is doled out in a single night in any square mile of London that you care to name. And do you know what portion of that misery we concern ourselves with, in the Metropolitan Police?’
‘I have an approximate conception, I think. But, sir—’
‘The portion that we cannot avoid, Bliss. The portion that must be put in the crime book because the fellow who reported it is not himself a drunkard or a maniac. The portion that has been looked into by the newspapermen, or that has got up the dander of some Right Honourable Member. The portion that has been declared a great social ill by some Quaker with notions, or which the Assistant Commissioner has seen all but stamped out in Paris. We concern ourselves with what we must, and no more, or we would very quickly wear ourselves down to stumps.
‘It is not that we never act according to conscience, Bliss, but the Yard has a fixed view of things, and no great notion of charity. Why, even this business at Strythe House may not put us much in favour if we cannot winkle something more out of it than a lunatic seamstress. I do not like the look of that affair one bit, but that is neither here nor there. You cannot go turning over the mattresses of a peer of the realm without good cause, and we have nothing yet to answer that description. You must put this missing match girl from your mind.’
‘If you would let me finish, sir.’ Gideon struck the table, regretting the outburst immediately and folding his arms to prevent a recurrence. ‘If you will permit me, sir, what I have been trying to tell you is that I had set eyes on Miss Tatton be
fore – that she and I were formerly acquainted.’
Cutter closed his eyes and brought his hand to his brow, caressing it as if to relieve some sudden discomfort. It was a moment before he could bring himself to continue. ‘You knew the girl, is that what you are telling me now?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I see.’
The inspector’s tone seemed reasonable, but his expression had darkened considerably. Gideon thought it best to say nothing more until he was called upon to do so.
‘That, Bliss, is what might be called a salient fact. Do you know what a salient fact is?’
‘I believe so, sir. It is from the Latin salire, meaning “to leap”. A salient fact, I suppose, is one that leaps out.’
‘From the Latin.’ Cutter closed his eyes again. ‘Would you say that this particular fact leapt out of your account, Bliss?’
‘Perhaps not, sir.’
‘Perhaps not.’ The inspector drummed softly on the arm of his chair. ‘We will pass over this, I think, while I still have command of myself. This former acquaintance of yours, Bliss. How did that come about, then? Was Miss Tatton at Cambridge too? Is she a doctor of divinity?’
‘No, sir. I met her in London, while visiting my uncle at his previous residence. She was one of those he aided in his charitable works.’
‘Is that right? And did you aid her too? Did you give her comfort? Was that the nature of your acquaintance?’
Gideon got up from his chair and crossed to the parlour’s single grimy window. The glass was a good deal obscured by grime, but he rubbed at one pane until he had a constricted view of Warwick-street. ‘I spent only a few days in Miss Tatton’s company, sir. My uncle had found new lodgings for her, and I myself was obliged to return to Cambridge. Even so, I came to know her tolerably well. I was shocked, Inspector, to find her as I did. Her circumstances were not fortunate, it is true. She had known hardship. But with my uncle’s aid she had been striving to better herself. She would not have kept low company, sir. She was not brought to that state by any fault of her own.’
The House on Vesper Sands Page 12