by Alys Clare
‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered.
‘No need,’ she replied. ‘Will you eat? You should,’ she added reprovingly.
‘Yes, then.’
She brought a bowl of savoury-smelling stew and some pieces of bread, and I managed about half.
Then Theo returned, and between them he and his wife helped me to bed. I can’t remember when a soft mattress, warm blankets and a blessedly cool pillow under my sore head ever felt so good. I was afraid I would dream – there had been horrors enough that evening – but, after a sudden vivid image of a crocodile that shot me back to wakefulness just as I was slipping into sleep, I didn’t. I slept deeply and was aware of nothing until I heard a boy’s voice saying brightly, ‘Doctor Gabriel, you snore even louder than Daddy!’ and, opening my eyes, I saw that it was morning and realized with great relief that my headache had gone.
In a modest but scrupulously clean lodging house set a few streets back from the Plymouth quayside, a dark-haired man in a cloak of costly blue wool let himself into a room on the uppermost floor. Two other men were already inside, one standing beside the small window and staring down into the busy street, the other lying sick and gaunt-faced on one of the narrow beds, propped up by pillows.
The newcomer took off his cloak and flung it across another of the three beds with a furious gesture. ‘Those women!’ he spat out. ‘They are brazen whores, and they will not leave a man alone!’
The man by the window smiled to himself. He too was dark-eyed, but his once-black hair was largely white. He was almost into his seventh decade but looked older, for his face was lean and deeply lined, his skin sallow. ‘You must act as if they do not exist,’ he murmured.
The man on the bed – roughly the same age as the man by the window – added, ‘You are too handsome, my friend. The women like a good-looking man, it makes their job more enjoyable.’ He began to chuckle, and the laughter turned swiftly into a violent fit of coughing.
Ignoring them both, the newcomer said starkly, ‘The men have fled. I have not been able to pick up a trace of them.’ Then, ruthlessly cutting across the angry response of his companions, his dark eyes narrowing to glittering slits, he added, ‘But all is not lost.’ He paused. ‘They have left her on the ship.’
The white-haired man gasped, crossing himself rapidly several times. The sick man, nodding slowly, a cruel smile twisting his mouth, said softly, ‘And wherever she is, they will not be far away.’
THREE
Theo and I were back on the quayside bright and early. We stood at the foot of the gangplank and I called up to the sailor standing on deck. Even as I did so, Captain Zeke appeared at his side and beckoned us to come aboard.
‘Captain Zeke, this is Theophilus Davey, Coroner. Theo, Captain Ezekiel Colt.’
I watched as they shook hands, noticing how carefully they were eyeing each other up. Then, with a grin, Captain Zeke said, ‘You’re not how I imagined you, Master Coroner,’ which Theo greeted with an enigmatic smile.
The crew seemed to have melted away. Other than a lad working on a sail up in the bows, I didn’t spot anybody, although there were sounds of activity from various parts of the ship. ‘A peaceful night?’ I said quietly to Captain Zeke.
‘Peaceful enough,’ he said gruffly.
We made our way down through the lower decks until once again we stood in the cold galley. Then we progressed through the maze of large holds and small storage spaces until we reached the stack of wood against the furthest bulkhead. Captain Zeke and I moved it aside and the opening was revealed. Captain Zeke looked at Theo, at the narrow little aperture and back at Theo. ‘I’ll manage,’ Theo said.
Theo Davey is by no means a small man.
Captain Zeke went first, Theo followed and I pushed him from the rear. It was bad enough for me, and Theo is much broader than I. But he made no complaint, and presently all three of us were in the secret space, Captain Zeke standing upright, Theo and I crouching.
‘You had men hiding in here?’ Theo demanded; I’d given him a brief account of yesterday’s discovery as we rode over.
‘So we believe,’ Captain Zeke replied. He nodded towards the barrel, whose cover was now firmly in place and, to an extent, lessening the terrible stench. ‘That seems to prove it; that and the food remains scattered on the floor.’
Theo nodded. ‘The body?’
Captain Zeke led him to it. All three of us carried lanterns, and we held them up.
Theo stood for some time without speaking, staring at the little body, lifting the folds of cloth, peering into the face with its wide-open mouth. He inspected the spike, then, turning to me, said, ‘Not the means of death, I’ll warrant.’
‘No,’ I agreed.
Eventually he stepped back, absently wiping his hands against the skirt of his long robe. Not that the gesture was necessary, for the corpse was desiccated and not a drop of bodily fluid remained anywhere upon or within it.
Captain Zeke and I waited, and I sensed the captain’s barely suppressed anger at having to yield authority to another man on board his own ship. But suppress it he did; I decided that something about Theo – perhaps the uncomplaining way he’d squeezed his large frame through that small entry; perhaps his quiet air of knowing precisely what he was about – must have impressed my former captain. And that didn’t happen very often.
Eventually Theo sighed and said, ‘Seen enough, Gabe?’
‘I have.’
‘Very well. Captain Colt, I have given orders to my men to come and fetch the corpse and they are already on their way. They will take it down and bring it to my offices, where Doctor Taverner will examine it?’ Again he turned to me.
‘Of course,’ I agreed. I could have added that I’d have fought off any man who tried to take my place.
Theo was staring round the small space. ‘I sense there is more here than meets the eye,’ he muttered. So he was picking it up too, I thought.
‘I plan to have this area cleared out,’ Captain Zeke said. ‘Provided there is no objection?’
Theo smiled at him. ‘It is your ship, Captain Colt,’ he said courteously. ‘I would, however, be very grateful if you would share with me any discoveries you make?’ He turned it into a question, which I thought was wise.
‘I will,’ Captain Zeke said. He was staring at the barrel of waste. ‘First job will be to empty that fu— that blasted thing.’
‘How will you do that?’ Theo asked.
Captain Zeke smiled grimly. ‘I shall summon every man still on board, taking on extra hands if I need to, as I am sure I shall, until I have a human chain stretching from here to the upper deck. Each man will have a bucket, and the buckets will be passed up and down the line until the barrel is empty, when it will be turned on its side and removed in the same manner in which it must have gone in.’
Theo, already backing away, crouched down and began to wriggle out through the hole in the bulkhead. ‘Let me know if you find anything,’ his voice floated back.
‘Other than an awful lot of shit?’ Captain Zeke murmured. But I didn’t think Theo could have heard.
Theo and I had been back at his residence for not much over an hour when a cart pulled up outside. We had used the time for Theo to ask me a series of perceptive questions about my time on the Falco and, perhaps more pertinently, about her captain and her crew.
‘I recognize barely more than a handful of men among the ship’s company,’ I’d told him, ‘for it’s seven years since I was of their number, and a ship’s crew does not remain constant.’
I had, however, told him rather more about Ezekiel Colt.
Now we stood side by side out in the road, staring down at the small shape lying beneath a dirty blanket on the planks of the cart. Theo’s man Jarman Hodge jumped down from the bench seat across the front, handing the reins to one of the two lads he’d taken with him.
‘Grim place, that hidden hold, or locker, or whatever it was,’ he said. He didn’t elaborate. The lads had slid the corpse off the
back of the cart and now stood holding it between them, still draped in the blanket. ‘Where do you want it?’
‘Down in the cellar,’ Theo replied. He didn’t need to ask me, for I had worked down there before, many times. Quite often we’d had to move decaying bodies up the road to the crypt of another house that Theo rented for the purpose, for his family lived adjacent to his work place and it was not fair to force them to endure the smell.
Not that this was going to be a factor now …
The two lads carried the body as easily as if it had been a bag of bones, which in effect it was. With a nod, Jarman Hodge got back up on the cart and, clicking to the horse, turned into the yard. I followed the lads down to the cellar, watching as they laid their burden down upon the trestle table set ready. Theo had taught them well for, young though they were, they treated the corpse gently and respectfully, and, when they were done, stepped back and stood for a moment or two with bowed heads.
‘Thank you, lads,’ Theo said. ‘You may go now.’
We listened to the pound of their retreating footsteps on the steps and along the passage above. We heard a brief exchange of voices, the slam of a door, then silence fell.
Theo padded round the cellar, lighting torches and a couple more lanterns. As the soft golden light waxed and Theo came to stand opposite, I stepped up to the trestle table and folded back the blanket.
Then I began my examination of the body.
Once more I was struck by the incongruity of the child-sized body and the ancient face. I stared down into the deep-set eyes. The lids were almost closed, but there was a tiny gap between them and it seemed for an instant that the flames of the torch in the wall behind my head glinted on some reflective surface; as if a living, sentient being still dwelt in the little corpse. Suppressing my horror, I looked more closely, leaning right in over the body, and realized my mistake. It had been an illusion – it must have been – because the eye sockets were as dry as everything else about the corpse.
I had only just begun my task, and it was far too early to start imagining things.
I straightened up, closed my eyes and took a couple of breaths. Then, the practical, logical man of science back in control, I bent to my task and began a careful head-to-toe evaluation.
Out of consideration for my companion, I voiced my findings as I went along.
‘The head is covered in a long strip of fabric, which from its inner folds is revealed to be white, although its outer surfaces are a beige-grey shade and stiff with very old dirt.’ I paused, holding the unwound cloth between my hands. ‘I think this is cotton,’ I said, turning to Theo. I handed the cloth to him and he folded it and laid it on the empty trestle table behind him. ‘The hair is short, wiry in texture and tightly curled, and mostly grey, although in places still black.’ I ran my hands all over the skull, slowly, letting my fingers examine the bumps and hollows. ‘No obvious injury to the skull.’
I moved my hands to the ears. ‘Ears small and well-shaped, the lobes pierced and with a tiny shell earring in each one.’ I smoothed my hand over the forehead and the brow ridges, then checked what I’d just felt against my own head. ‘The brow ridges are quite prominent, more typical of a man than a woman.’
‘But you told me this is a woman?’ Theo said.
‘Yes, I did.’
I was wondering if I could have made a mistake; if the absence of external genitalia that I’d noted on board the Falco was perhaps the result of mutilation. I wanted to check but restrained the impulse. All in good time.
I made myself return to my steady top-to-toe examination.
‘The nose is well-shaped and broad at the base, the nostrils generously flared. The mouth is wide and the lips are deep.’ I moved on down to the neck. ‘The body was pinned to the rib by an iron stake through the throat, and the resulting wound is large and gaping, giving us a glimpse of the body’s interior and verifying the assumption of total desiccation.’ I looked briefly up at Theo. ‘It’s a very long time since this corpse held blood, or indeed any other bodily fluid.’
Then I reached down to the ragged garment and gently folded it back. The ancient crone lay there before us, and instantly I felt a sense of sacrilege and wanted more than anything to cover her up again.
I fought it off.
‘The breasts are small and quite flat. The skin over the chest and abdomen is well preserved, and I presume that the internal organs are still present.’ I bent down to examine the pubis and pudenda, gently parting the legs, and Theo discreetly turned his back. ‘The woman has borne at least one child.’ I put her back as she had been, swiftly going on to examine the legs and feet. Then I gathered up the discarded robe and carefully covered her up again. ‘You can look now,’ I said quietly.
I heard Theo let out the breath he’d been holding. He wasn’t finding this any easier than I was.
I picked up her arms and laid them across her breast, crossed at the wrist. Her hands, I noted, were long-fingered, the nails well kept.
‘Whoever she was, she didn’t do manual work,’ Theo remarked, leaning over to look.
‘No, you’re right.’ I ought to have noticed that myself.
‘What’s that stuff under her nails?’ Theo pointed.
I picked up a lantern, holding it right over the crossed hands. ‘I don’t know. Pass me my instrument roll, please.’
I selected a long, fine-pointed probe and ran its tip beneath the index and middle finger on the right hand, then wrapped both probe and retrieved matter in a cleanish scrap of loose cloth I’d just torn off the woman’s garment and tucked it back in the leather roll.
‘Any ideas?’ Theo asked.
I was pretty sure it was blood, but somehow now was not the moment to say so.
‘I’ll look at it when I’m back in my study and let you know,’ I said tersely.
We stood either side of the corpse, staring down at it. At her. Then Theo said – and there was a note of impatience in his voice – ‘Well? What have you got to tell me?’
I came out of my reverie. I’m not sure where I’d been, but it took me a moment or two to return to Theo’s cellar. ‘Definitely a woman, and she was at an advanced age when she died.’
‘How old?’
‘Oh—’ The reply that had almost shot out of me was that she’d been well over a hundred years old, but it was incredible, for surely nobody lived to be a hundred. ‘Eighty, ninety,’ I muttered.
‘And how did she die?’
‘I can’t see any obvious cause,’ I admitted. ‘No injury, no signs of disease on the bones or the skin. Old age perhaps, or some sickness that leaves no external evidence.’ I ran my eyes over the little corpse again. ‘She’s perfect,’ I murmured. ‘Her limbs are straight and true, her skull is elegantly shaped, and the bones of her face suggest she was very beautiful.’
Theo nodded. ‘Yes, it’s strange, but when I look at her I seem to see two different images. One is as she now is, the other appears to show how she must have been in the prime of life. Although I only see that image very fleetingly,’ he added, as if that made it perfectly reasonable. ‘It’s probably just—’
‘Just your imagination,’ I finished for him. ‘Yes, Theo. I know.’
I met his eyes. There was no need to tell him I’d seen it too.
‘So what was she doing on Captain Colt’s ship?’ Theo asked, his tone brusque as if to say, Enough of this fanciful nonsense, we must return to the matter in hand.
‘I have no idea,’ I replied. ‘It seems reasonable to conclude she was brought on board by whoever was stowing away down in that hellish little space, for the spike had been driven into the beam only recently and it is really too much of a coincidence not to link her presence with the uninvited passengers.’ I paused. ‘As to why they brought her, I can’t say. Yet,’ I added optimistically.
Theo didn’t answer. He was still looking at the ancient woman, one hand absently hovering just over her own hands as if he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare. ‘I �
� it’s odd that—’ he began.
‘What?’
He shook his head and abruptly moved his hand away, staring at it as if he’d been surprised to see what it had been doing. ‘I was just thinking that she inspires something like respect, or rather awe, in me, and I suspect in you too?’ I nodded. ‘Yet whoever took her onto the Falco treated her with incredible brutality: they hung her on the wall with a spike through her throat.’
‘She was dead, Theo,’ I pointed out. ‘She’s been dead for years. Decades. Perhaps more. Once a body has dried out like this, it’s almost impossible to say, but it could easily be a century or more since this woman walked the earth.’
‘So?’ he said belligerently.
I sighed. ‘So they didn’t really treat her brutally, did they? She was dead, far beyond feeling pain or distress, and—’
‘It’s no way to treat a woman, even if she is dead!’ Theo burst out. Then he gave a sort of gasp, as if he’d just heard what he’d said. He looked at me and I knew what he was thinking: all at once he’d had enough, and he was desperate to get out of the cellar and what was in it.
‘We have finished here, Theo,’ I said softly. I saw him slump slightly in relief. ‘Let’s leave her in peace and return to the sunshine.’
We extinguished the flares and the lanterns, then climbed the steps and emerged into the house. Theo went ahead and he didn’t stop but went on, out through the front door and onto the road outside. He stood quite still, taking deep breaths as if he’d been starved of air.
He turned to me. ‘There was a smell down there,’ he said. ‘Did you notice it? Not a bad body smell, but more like …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Incense? Perfume?’
I had indeed noticed it, and it seemed to me that it was what I’d briefly smelt down in the hold, just before the stench from the barrel full of waste had annihilated it. ‘Yes,’ I said briefly.
‘Any idea what it was?’
‘No.’ That was not true, for I had several ideas which I intended to test against the little piece of cloth I’d torn from the woman’s robe. My selection of that particular scrap hadn’t been as random as it had probably seemed, for I had noticed that the elusive scent was quite powerful in that spot.