Cutter looked about him briefly, raising a hand to halt the traffic as he crossed Northumberland-avenue towards Hungerford Bridge. ‘How long?’ he said. ‘Are you in a great hurry, Miss Hillingdon?’
‘Not at all, Inspector, I’m just wondering if there’ll be time. I’m afraid I’ve come to go over your recollections again. It’s my new publisher, you see. He’s been perfectly agreeable, for the most part, but there are aspects of the case that make him rather nervous. There are particulars I must verify with the officer who was present.’
‘Officers, Miss Hillingdon.’
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Officers. During the events we are speaking of, there was more than one officer present.’
‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry, it’s just that—’
A train had come in at Charing Cross Station, and the inspector was obscured for a time amid the tumult of emerging passengers. The cabmen were arriving to contend for fares, and their disorderly rank swelled halfway across the road. By the time she had made her way around the obstruction, Cutter was some distance ahead, turning from the footway so as to continue by way of the gardens. He was nearing the bandstand when she came abreast of him again.
‘London Bridge,’ he called out.
‘I’m sorry?’ Octavia was out of breath, and momentarily at a loss.
‘I am going as far as London Bridge, to answer your earlier question, at which point I must bid you good evening. It is a distance of two miles, or near enough, so you may question me at your leisure. I am glad, by the way, that the arrangement is turning out to your satisfaction.’
‘What arrangement?’ Octavia veered around a darting youngster, whose mother regarded her with the sternest disapproval.
‘With this publisher of yours,’ Cutter said. ‘Are you not sorry, though, that you kept it from the papers? It would have made your name, I am told.’
‘Hardly,’ Octavia said. ‘It is not the practice to put names to articles, for one thing. I had nothing to gain but the promise of advancement. That no longer interested me, though the editor of the Gazette found it hard to believe.’
‘So he told me. A Mr Healy, if I am not mistaken. He came to see me, you know. I believe he hoped I would intervene.’
‘Yes, that sounds just like him.’ Octavia looked away in amusement. They were rounding a bed of young roses, and the still air held a faint sweetness. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘I showed him the door,’ said Cutter.
‘Did you, really?’ she said. ‘I should have liked to see that.’
‘It was no great spectacle, I’m afraid. He came to see me at Leggett’s, which is an establishment I am fond of, and seated himself without my leave. You will not be familiar with Leggett’s, I expect, but in the back parlour there is a pair of armchairs. They are not much to look at, but they are reserved, in a manner of speaking. It is a thing that has always gone without saying. And all the more so, since what happened.’
‘Of course,’ Octavia said quietly. ‘Of course, I do understand.’
‘I told him to pry his arse from where it was, and to take his leave. He did not trouble you afterwards, I take it?’
‘Oh, he pestered me for a time, but he knew when he was beaten. He has his position, still, but he has been a little less sure of his ground since my grandfather’s passing.’
‘Is that so?’
‘The arrangements that had been made were not quite as he had hoped. They grant me considerable freedom, I gather, though I have not looked into it fully. It no longer interests me greatly, as I said, and I have other matters now to occupy my time. Georgie has begun to take a hand in things, which I am glad to see. He had not thought of it before, having a poor opinion of his own abilities, but he has an aptitude for it, I believe, and a doggedness in getting at the truth of things. I rather think he is better suited to it than I ever was.’
‘Is he not minded to print the story himself, then? He had a good deal to do with it.’
‘He doesn’t think it his place. In any case, his hands are tied for now. Proceedings are still under way, for one thing, so a good deal would have to be omitted. Strythe and Hartington may be dead, but their underlings will be tried, since you were so diligent in making cases against them. And then there is the committee of inquiry, which will drag its feet for months, even if it comes to no conclusion. The dead cannot be defamed, of course, but Hartington was attached to the Home Office, and it seems there is such a thing as seditious libel. Did you know that, Inspector?’
‘I did not, Miss Hillingdon. I have put a good many fellows in the dock in my time, but none of them rose to the likes of that.’
‘Well, my publisher has retained a QC, so I am learning a good deal. No, the Gazette would be confined to tattle and speculation, and Georgie has no fondness for either, especially in this case. It’s my story to tell, he says. He wants to see me do it justice.’ She paused to choose her words. ‘And to honour those who were lost.’
Cutter grunted mildly at this.
‘I suppose it sounds terribly tedious, and perhaps it will be. But I want to try, all the same. I shall have to touch on the scandal, of course, but no more than that. I want to show people the lives that those poor girls lived, the conditions that made such easy prey of them. I want to document the inequities of our society, much as Mrs Harkness did. Perhaps you know her work, Inspector? She is the author of In Darkest London.’
Cutter seemed dimly entertained by this notion. ‘I am no great man of letters, miss, but I believe I have seen my share of London, dark and otherwise.’
They carried on in silence for a time, leaving the gardens and crossing towards the river at Waterloo Bridge. This put Octavia at the further disadvantage of bicycling against the oncoming traffic, but she carried on as if it were the easiest thing in the world. As Cutter kept up his resolute pace, she began calling out her questions, regulating her own speed so as to come abreast of him in the intervals between the plane trees. His demeanour was hardly welcoming, but he gave his answers readily enough, hesitating only when his professional discretion required it, or – once or twice – when she came near to matters that touched him personally. These he would not discuss even now, and it was Octavia’s belief that he would never speak of them again.
She was as methodical in all of this as the circumstances permitted, but was obliged to conduct her questioning with a certain briskness. At Blackfriars Bridge, when an omnibus passed in front of them, she made a brief study of her notes and found that she had satisfied herself on nearly every point. She had even managed, in those moments when the press of traffic had halted her progress, to jot down some particulars that she feared would slip her mind. London Bridge was some way off still, and she did not wish to appear rude by leaving as soon as her business with the inspector was concluded. She cast about for some suitable subject, but it seemed impossible to imagine conversing with him about anything other than his work.
‘Well, Inspector,’ she said, when the obstruction had been cleared and they continued on their way. ‘Perhaps you will tell me a little about whatever business you are on. It must be rather important, since you are setting out so late in the evening.’
Cutter gave her a keen look, then halted abruptly and appeared again to her right. They had turned in at Thames-street, where the going was mucky and there was no footway to speak of. ‘You might keep in by the wall, miss,’ he said. ‘They are hard at it still in the wharf yards, and the carts are loaded at a ferocious rate. There is no telling what you might be splashed with.’
‘You are very gallant, Inspector,’ she said with amusement. ‘And I hope you will forgive my curiosity. It is no more than that, I assure you, since I no longer take a professional interest.’
He let out a snort of amusement, leaping smartly over a puddle as Octavia swerved to avoid it. ‘You are mistaken in that, I believe.’
‘Forgive me, Inspector,’ she said, coming alongside him once more. ‘In what am I mistaken, exac
tly?’
A wharf-hand veered into his path, jostling him as he swung up a sack. Cutter took hold of him, and with a fierce oath hurled him bodily onto the laden cart. ‘Mind where you put yourself!’ he bellowed. ‘I will put you under it the next time, you witless monkey.’
Octavia let the incident pass without comment. If the inspector was more easily provoked than he had formerly been – the same dog, only more so – his outbursts could be depended upon nonetheless to subside as quickly as they arose.
‘I meant, Miss Hillingdon,’ he said, continuing after a time as if nothing had happened, ‘that you are mistaken in what you say about your professional interests. You have set them aside for now, being so much occupied by this book of yours, but you can no more cast them off than I can set myself up as a governess. You may no longer care for high society – and you can hardly be blamed for that – but you will be back to your old ways once you have finished your little act of penance. I may not see this brightness of yours, but I know all about bringing things to light. We are both in that game, whatever else we may be, and we will never want for business. There will always be a surfeit, in this world, of fellows who wish to keep their doings from coming to light, and there will always be the likes of you and me to plant boils in their arses.’
Octavia laughed, and for a moment a levity came to her that she had not felt for some time. ‘Perhaps you are right, Inspector.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Do you think us alike, then?’
He glanced up at her again, and there was a wryness now in the set of his face. ‘I cannot quite match your elevation,’ he said. ‘A fellow must be born to that, and if he is not he must go about things in a plainer fashion. But in the ways that matter, I fancy, we are more alike than not.’
‘Goodness me,’ she said. ‘I had assumed you thought me a nuisance.’
‘And so you are,’ Cutter replied. ‘You have hardly given me a moment’s peace in three months, but I can hardly fault you for it. It is in your nature to make a nuisance of yourself, just as it is in mine. It is the rightful order of things.’
They passed into the dank shadows beneath Cannon Street Station, where their conversation faltered amid the clamour of an incoming train. Cutter strode ahead again, and was presently engulfed by a lowering drift of steam. They were drawing near now to London Bridge, and for all his professions of regard, it would not have surprised Octavia to find that he had gone on his way without another word. He was on police business, after all, and all else was secondary to that.
She pedalled on, emerging once more into the light, and it was a moment before she realised that she had overtaken him. He had moderated his pace – had slowed, in fact, to a contemplative stroll. Octavia dismounted in mild astonishment and fell in alongside him. It was a more comfortable arrangement, if nothing else, and she saw no pressing need to question it. They carried on in more or less easeful silence until he returned abruptly to her question.
‘I am pursuing a gang of slavers, since you ask.’
Incredulous, Octavia halted to confront him. ‘Slavers? Here, in London? You are making fun of me, surely? The practice has been outlawed for decades.’
‘A good deal has been outlawed that goes on all the same. It is an unpleasant bit of business, but there is nothing new in that. I would pass my days in idleness otherwise.’
‘But where are they bringing these poor creatures from? And how?’
‘There is no shortage of shipping, miss. England must have its cotton still, and its sugar and silk. Such things are brought in by the ton, as you have seen for yourself, and where there is trade there is apt to be contraband.’
‘But living men, Inspector? Living men, packed into the holds of ships, in this day and age?’
Cutter had turned in at Fishmongers’ Hall and was mounting the steps towards Adelaide-place. He paused for a moment, as if in weariness. ‘It is not men they are bringing in, miss.’
She stared after him mutely, and presently he turned and descended again, taking hold of her bicycle and hoisting it to his shoulder. ‘Allow me,’ he said.
He set it down, reaching the top, and produced his pocket-watch, rattling it vigorously before consulting it again. He looked out over the square towards London Bridge, shielding his eyes with a flexed hand against the declining sun. ‘Do not alarm yourself unduly,’ he said, catching sight of her expression. ‘It goes on in a small enough way, and the fellows we are watching have no great heads for their trade. We will clip their wings for them, you may be sure. The next thing will be worse, no doubt, but that is the way of it. We can only keep house, in this life. We cannot tear up the foundations.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said again, lagging a little way behind him as she fell into thought. ‘About me, I mean.’
Cutter gave no sign that he had heard. Reaching the bridge, he planted his feet apart and looked about him. He settled his coat about his shoulders with an agitated air, as if he had been waiting for an hour or more.
‘The book will be finished soon enough,’ Octavia said. ‘And a woman ought to have something to do.’
The inspector scanned all approaches, leaning out over both sides of the bridge before returning with a dissatisfied air to resume his station.
Octavia brought her bicycle to rest against the parapet, glad to be relieved of its weight. ‘All of this.’ She surveyed the grand facades, the spires massed against the mild sky. ‘It is built on suffering, isn’t it? All of it.’
‘It is cheaper than Portland stone, miss.’ Cutter was looking distractedly about him still. ‘And never in short supply.’
‘Perhaps you won’t object, then, if I continue to call on you from time to time?’
‘It would do me little good, I suspect. Besides, you will not depend on me entirely. You have more than one officer at your disposal.’
‘Ah.’ Octavia hesitated. ‘Has he mentioned my visits, then?’
‘He talks of little else, lately. He is very nearly restored to himself, in the talking line, though I fear his spirits are far from recovered. He does a good deal of pining still.’
‘It is to be expected, I suppose. He has his own portion of the story to tell, after all. But I have been mindful of the doctors. I have tried not to tax him.’
‘You may tax him to your heart’s content, miss, if it will stifle his yapping in some small way. He has hardly been back on duty a fortnight, and I have forgotten what it was to know peace and quiet. Ah, here we are now. He has decided to put in an appearance after all.’
Octavia turned at this to see Sergeant Bliss, hurrying towards them from the opposite side of the square. It had been nearly a month since she had seen him last, and he seemed remarkably improved. There was a sickliness to his complexion still, and he could be seen to favour one leg, but there was little sign otherwise of how near to death he had come.
‘How astonishing,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be months yet.’
‘I put him under our own Dr Carmody,’ Cutter said. ‘But he gives much of the credit to Lady Ada, for the job she did in plucking out the bullet and sewing him up. It was as handsomely done as he has ever seen, he says, though she has no training beyond her books. As clean as you like, which was the main thing. There is nearly always infection, when the shot is to the gut, but it seems she knew what she was about. Matters might otherwise have taken a different course.’
Octavia raised a hand in greeting as the sergeant approached. He touched his hat, catching sight of her, and made an effort to straighten his gait.
‘And he had more than that in his favour, if his uncle is to be believed. He had help from another quarter.’
‘Another quarter? Who?’
‘His little match girl, or so Neuilly maintains. When she passed, he says, there was an excess of some kind to be taken up. Not in the way that our friends tried to engineer, but in the natural course. I do not pretend to understand all the particulars, but it seems it did him no harm.’
‘She is with him s
till.’ She spoke without reflection, and was at once persuaded that he would think her foolish. ‘I mean, there is always that comfort, when someone passes. She will be with him always, in some small way.’
He turned away with a dour look, but it seemed to Octavia sometimes that his sentiments were gentler than he pretended. ‘Yes, that is a great comfort, I am sure,’ he said. ‘I suppose it was too much to hope for that he might have grown brighter in the common way. His timekeeping shows no great improvement either. Show a leg there, Bliss! You are not in procession behind a hearse, blast you.’
‘Good evening to you, Miss Hillingdon.’ Sergeant Bliss was out of breath, and as ever, somewhat dishevelled in his appearance. ‘A pleasure to see you, as always. I do beg your pardon, Inspector. I left with time to spare, but I came upon a pair of youths who were attempting to drown a litter of kittens. I was forced to intervene, sir, in an official capacity.’
‘You were forced to intervene?’ Cutter looked upwards, working a thumb into the hollow of his cheek. ‘In the drowning of a sackful of kittens?’
‘Yes, sir. It was a most distressing scene.’
‘We have more pressing matters to look into, Bliss, as you might recall. I will thank you to make no further interventions this evening, unless you are called upon to do so. Did you pay a visit to the wharf-master, as I asked?’
‘I did, sir.’
‘And did you copy out the bills of lading for the days in question?’
‘In their entirety, sir.’ Bliss clapped a hand to his coat.
‘What about your study of Portuguese? Have you made headway in that?’
‘Well, sir, it has certain peculiarities, I find. Did you know, for instance, that it has twenty-one distinct vowel sounds, though these are represented by the same five letters as our own?’
‘You are not giving a lecture to the Royal Society, Bliss. Can you converse passably with the captain of a merchantman, is all I want to know?’
‘I believe so, sir.’
‘Well, I expect we’ll see. Come, we have lost enough time. The man we want may be gone with the next tide. Miss Hillingdon, we must part ways for now.’
The House on Vesper Sands Page 32