“Yes sir, you’re right, I know. If only. .”
“Ah yes, ‘if only’-that covers a multitude of sins, does it not? He was then silent for a time, brooding upon the news that he had got from me. Then did he say, “This is specially painful to me, for I confess that I reached a complete impasse with the one they call Mother Jeffers.”
“I did notice that the strongroom was empty,” I ventured timidly.
“What could I do? I could not hold her for further questioning on the evidence we had, much less could I pass her on for trial in Old Bailey.”
“Then you do not believe the testimony of Elizabeth Hooker, sir?”
“Indeed I do not. Do you? Clarissa told me of that awful muddle in the garret room in which Elizabeth claimed to have been held prisoner. ‘It’s all been changed,’ said she. Well, it could not have been changed so much in so little time, as I understood it from Clarissa. Do you agree with her?”
“Oh, indeed I do, sir. And there was also the matter of the frock, which Elizabeth claimed as her own. It would have been much too large for her, and would have fit the daughter quite well. So you believe Mrs. Jeffers when she says that she had never before seen the girl?”
“I did not say that.”
“What then?”
“In all truth, Jeremy, I do not believe either one.”
Again, it was Constable Patley who had brought the word to me. Whilst on his rounds, he had encountered Mr. Deuteronomy who announced to him that he had just returned from Newmarket and would be happy to receive me at any time-“but the earlier the better.” We both knew, of course, what he would be happy to receive.
“He wrote down where to find him. Let’s see now, I’ve got it here somewheres.” And, so saying, he began going through his pockets.
“Save yourself the trouble,” said I. “I believe I know the place. Would it be up above the Haymarket Coffee House?”
“So it is, so it is. Hurry along, lad, and bring the lally. I’ll take you there safe.”
I had already divided it into two separate bags, both of which were stowed beneath my bed. I grabbed them, gave the smaller to Clarissa, who had let Mr. Patley into the kitchen and had summoned me.
“Be careful,” said she. “Don’t do battle for it, Jeremy, for when all is said and done, ’tis only money.”
With that caution, she opened the door and sent us on our way. Yet, thinking ahead, I remembered that I, in a sense, did yet owe Mr. Deuteronomy a pistol-the one that I had taken from Katy Tiddle. And so I did stop off for it and got no argument in the matter from Mr. Baker.
“You brought it in,” said he, “so it’s yours to take back.”
“Good,” said I. “I’ll not be bringing it again.”
“As you wish. Just remember that it’s loaded.”
And so at last we headed out, Mr. Patley and I, moving swiftly through the city streets. Though it was not late, there were not many about. We kept our silence through most of the journey, and only toward the end did I speak up.
“Mr. Patley, when you saw Deuteronomy, did you tell him about his sister, Alice?”
“I did, yes, Jeremy.”
“Well, thank goodness. I would not want that burden upon me.”
“Indeed, I can understand that. But, truth to tell, lad, he took it right well. Almost too well, it seemed to me, like it really didn’t matter to him much at all. He’s a strange sort, ain’t he? She was his sister, after all.”
I had no response handy for that, and so I simply held my tongue. Ahead of us were the lights of the Haymarket. There seemed always to be a crowd thereabouts, as indeed there was that evening. They were women, mostly, prostitutes and the like, though a few seemed to be moving swiftly through the crowd as if on their way to some destination. To what that might be I had no notion.
We went direct to the coffee house, which was there on the far side of the square. Still open it was. And I realized, to my surprise, that often as I had been there, I had never been there after dark.
“Ever been up there?” Mr. Patley asked.
“To Deuteronomy’s rooms? No, I never have. Do you see the way up?”
Both of us studied the façade of the building, but try as we might, we saw no way up-until we ventured down the left side and discovered a sort of side entrance to the upper floor.
“Well, I guess that’s it,” said Patley. “Go on up there, rap upon the door, and if he comes to open it, give me a wave.”
I did it just so. And when Mr. Deuteronomy appeared, I gave to Mr. Patley, at the foot of the stairs, a great wave. He called his farewell to me and departed.
“Your partner down there?” Deuteronomy asked.
“He was. He thought it would be a bit safer for me, considering what I was carrying, if he were along.”
Having said that, I passed to him the cloth bag, heavy with banknotes, which I had been guarding since the day before. Then did I make a movement toward the stairs.
“Wait,” said he. “Come inside. I’ve someone wants to talk with you.”
Curious, I followed him down the hall to the second door, the one toward the rear. He opened it and waved me inside. There I found Mr. Bennett awaiting me. I had not seen him since those early-morning exercise sessions wherein Deuteronomy put Pegasus through his paces. Bennett, the trainer, would observe and make a few suggestions and would answer the questions I put to him. And though he always seemed guarded and somewhat ill at ease, I liked the man well enough. (Strange it was to perceive how long ago and far away all this did seem to me at that moment.)
“Mr. Bennett,” said I politely, “how happy I am to greet you in London. I hope that you had a good journey here from Newmarket.”
He seemed even more ill at ease than I remembered. His eyes shifted to Deuteronomy and then back to me two or three times in as many seconds. He rose and touched hands with me-one could hardly call it more than that-and returned quickly to his chair. Tense and strained, he wanted little to do with such amenities.
“You work for Sir John Fielding, don’t you? At the Bow Street Court?”
“Why, yes I do.”
“Well,” said he, “I’ve got a confession to make. Only it ain’t just mine, not even mostly mine, as you’ll see. But I know the facts, ’cause I was involved in it, so I’m the only one can tell it. Besides, Deuteronomy here says I got to.”
I settled into a chair nearby, and Mr. Deuteronomy sat down in another. We prepared to listen to his tale. I know not how many times he had heard it, but I, hearing it for the first time, sat quite transfixed by what he told. This is what I heard:
“Now I’m a fairly simple man, truth be told,” he began. “I come here from the country-out of Wiltshire, as it was. I didn’t know much, but I knew horses. Otherwise I’d never have got to work at Lord Lamford’s, or maybe just as a porter, or whatever. It was mainly Deuteronomy Plummer here, who got me the job. He knew he needed help managing this string of horses, and most of those sent out from the big house didn’t know a thing about them and were frightened of them.
“So we worked on them together for over a year. He’d ride the horses each Sunday in races round London and exercise them and do whatever need be done. The stable boys and me fed them, kept them well and happy. And if that had been all there was to the job, we’d have been just as happy as any could be. But we had Lord Lamford to contend with, too. First, there was his ‘suggestions,’ as he called them, which were really orders, and they could come any time of the day or night. Right away it was drop anything you might happen to be tending to and do whatever little thing he might happen to want you to do. That dueling pistol I took into Griffin’s in London was a good example. We were doing trials, Mr. Deuteronomy and I, out in the little course we’d set up in the west pasture, preparing Pegasus for racing. Anyway, Lord Lamford had to have that pistol fixed, no matter what, and it couldn’t wait. He knew I didn’t know my way round London, but he sent me out with it.”
I had listened in silence up to that moment, but when he mentioned the pistol I recalled that I had one of the two in question in my pocket at that very moment. I fetched it forth and handed it over to him, taking care to caution that it was loaded. He laid it down carefully upon a small table next to his chair.
