Finally Billy nodded, then spoke, his eyes never leaving the hot gas jets that warmed their feet, but did nothing to dent the cold around their shoulders and heads.
“You amaze me sometimes, Miss.” Billy’s upper body seemed to give way as he resigned himself to the truth. “Of course you’re spot-on right, as usual. No use me sayin’ otherwise.” His voice was uncharacteristically low, his speech slow. “When I was first out of convalescence, after I’d come back to London and before I went back down there and married Doreen and brought ’er ’ome, it was easy to get ’old of it. The Canadians on leave were the ones to see, called it ‘snow,’ they did. Good blokes, them Canadians. Lost a lot of their own. Anyway, just like you said, I stopped it. Then, oh, must’ve been four months ago, round Christmas when it was really nippy, me leg started on at me again, this time badly. There were days I thought I’d never get down the old stairs. And it just wore me out, just wore on me . . .”
Maisie allowed Billy to speak. He stared as if mesmerized, into the fire.
“Then this fella, who I’d known over there, saw me in the Prince of Wales. Just ’aving a swift ’alf one night before going ’ome, I was, when up ’e comes. ‘Eh, is that you, Billy-boy?’ ’e says, full of it. Next thing you know, ’e was tellin’ me where ’e could get some.” Billy put his hands over his eyes as if trying to erase the image from his mind, then lowered them once more to his knees and began rubbing his thighs. “And so I said awright. Just a bit would take the edge off. And, Miss, it was like before the war, with all the pain taken away. I felt like a boy again, and let me tell you, I’d been feelin’ like an old man.”
Billy paused. Maisie reached out to the knob at the side of the fire and turned up the flame. Still she was silent, allowing Billy to tell his story in his own time.
“And to tell you the truth, I wish I’d never seen ’im or ’is stash. But I wish I could feel like that all the time. I just wish . . .”
Billy slumped forward and began to sob. Maisie leaned toward him; then she remembered Mrs. Crawford and simply rubbed his back, calming Billy as if he were a small boy. Eventually, Billy’s tears subsided and he sat back. He blew his nose.
“Sound like a bleedin’ elephant, don’t I, Miss?” Billy folded the handkerchief and blew again. “Look, Miss. I’ll go. I’ve no business workin’ for you, and that’s a fact. I can look for another job.”
“Billy, before you do that, think about the lines of men looking for work. Anyway, business is good and I need you. But I also need you healthy and free of this burden, and I have a plan.”
Billy looked up at Maisie, dabbing his nose, which had begun to bleed. He held the handkerchief tightly to his face to stem the flow and leaned back slightly.
“Sorry, Miss.”
“I’ve seen worse, Billy. Now then, here’s my plan. It will help you, but it will need an enormous effort on your part.”
Maisie began to outline the plan of action that she had designed with Maurice.
“Oh,
“Well, he
“No, Miss, I meant met, as in, you know,
“Billy, I met him to see if he could give me some advice. I wanted to see what could be arranged for you.”
“Well, it’s good of you to take the trouble and all, but I don’t think I want to leave London.” Billy dabbed at his nose, checked to see that the bleeding had stopped, then replaced the soiled handkerchief in his pocket. “I’d miss me nippers and Doreen. And I can’t see me sitting around on me duff all day with nothing to do but wait to do some special moving of me legs, and to see a doctor.”
Maisie sighed. She had been warned by Maurice that Billy would probably object initially, either mildly or more firmly. At this stage she should be grateful that he had not shown anger when she revealed knowledge of his dependence upon cocaine. Perhaps another means of helping Billy could be found, one that would keep him closer to London. In the meantime she needed a commitment from him. “Billy, I want you to promise that you will not procure any more of this substance.”
“I never did let myself get too much of a likin’ for it, Miss, not like some. I tried to take it only when I was in that much pain. Frightened me, to tell you the truth, to know that somethin’ you took, y’know, could change you that much. Scared the bloomin’ life out of me. But then when I felt bad again, ’avin’ a bit didn’t seem such an ’orrible thing t’do.”
“All right. Let’s not talk about it anymore today. But I do insist that you speak to Doreen.” She was careful to honor the confidence shared with Billy’s wife. “If I have noticed changes in you, then I am sure she has. I urge you to speak to her and see what she says about what I’ve suggested.”
“Aw, blimey, Miss, you don’t know my Doreen. She’s one of the best, but she can be as tough as old boots.”
“Tough with a heart of gold, I suspect, Billy. Speak to her, please.”
“Awright, I will, Miss.”
Maisie felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. Her first challenge of the day was over.
Remembering Maurice’s advice, she knew that Billy should be allowed time to regain his balance, now that his burden of secrecy had been lifted.
Now she had to concentrate on the Waite case. “I’ve quite a lot to tell you about my visit to Kent,” said Maisie. “We’ll need to get cracking with the pencils today. Charlotte
Maisie wondered if she should show Billy what she had collected from the homes of Lydia Fisher and Philippa Sedgewick. Though she would never have asked him, she was sure that when she was an apprentice, Maurice had kept certain things to himself, as if in sharing a find before he felt that the time for revelation had come, he diminished its power. Maisie did not want to share what she had found until she could be sure of its significance.
“I want to speak to Magnus Fisher,” said Maisie. “The police are sniffing around, looking into his past, who he’s
