“Your sergeant is with him.”
“Very good. I’ll, um. . I’ll go right now and have a word with them.”
Day gestured for Brothwood to lead the way. Day took one last look at the fireplace and followed the vicar out of the little room.
He was now certain there was someone or something concealed under the hearth. He had suspected there was a priest hole here and now he felt he knew where the secret entrance was. He would be very glad to get Hammersmith’s help in uncovering the Brothwoods’ secret hiding place and finally beginning to unravel the many mysteries of the little village.
38
You don’t look any better, Nevil,” Day said. “Sorry to say.”
“I’ve had a bit of a rest,” Hammersmith said.
“You might call it that,” Jessica said. “He’s been dead to the world.”
“He’s very ill,” Kingsley said.
“Bring him over here,” Day said. He led the way to the abandoned side of the sanctuary, where the pews were stacked nearly on top of one another. Hammersmith sidled between two of them and sat heavily. He gave Day a wan smile. “Just for a moment,” he said. “I’m a little dizzy, is all.”
“How sick is he?” Day said.
“He’s been drinking the water here,” Kingsley said. “Have you?”
“I’d have to think,” Day said. “But I’m not fond of water. I believe I’ve stuck with beer since we arrived.”
“Sensible of you.”
“So whatever he’s got. .”
“I believe it may be typhoid. Or something very like typhoid.”
All thoughts of secret hiding places in the village church left Day’s mind. He frowned, suddenly worried about his sergeant. Hammersmith was capable of withstanding a great many things, but this was alarming. “Typhoid?” he said. “Is that fatal?”
“Not necessarily. He needs rest. He’s got a fever.”
“And he got typhoid from the water here?”
“I believe so,” Kingsley said. He nodded at Jessica. “Miss Perkins here was kind enough to undertake a little experiment on the Price children for me.”
Day took a step back. “You experimented on children?”
“Quite harmless,” Kingsley said.
“What did you do to them?”
“I wouldn’t harm my students, Inspector,” Jessica said. “I merely offered them a glass of water.”
“But you said there’s typhoid in the water,” Day said.
“Yes,” Kingsley said. “That’s my working hypothesis.”
“What if they’d drunk it?” Day said.
“They didn’t drink it,” Kingsley said. “That’s
“But how would they know that it was in the water?”
“That’s a very good question.”
“How does typhoid get into water?”
“Another good question. Much like cholera, it depends on tainted sewage entering the water supply. Dr Snow proved that beyond question some thirty years ago.”
Day turned to Jessica. “How might the water supply here become tainted?”
“It can’t be,” Jessica said. “Everybody knows to keep our waste far from the water we drink. We’re not savages here, Inspector.”
“And yet. .” Day waved his hand in the direction of the moaning hordes at the other end of the sanctuary.
“I tell you it can’t have happened,” Jessica said.
“Is there another way? Can typhoid work some other way than that, Doctor?”
“Well,” Kingsley said, “I suppose it needn’t be waste itself. If, for instance, an infected person had lost consciousness, perhaps fallen into the well. . It’s possible, but surely someone would have noticed a thing like that.”
“I think someone did,” Day said. “Constable Grimes sent to Scotland Yard because there are three missing people in this village. Three missing people and any one of them might have been sick, any one of them might have taken a tumble into that well.”
He stood there for a brief moment, staring at Kingsley as the implications sank in. Then, without a word, he spun on his heel and ran from the sanctuary, took all three steps into the foyer at once, and banged through the heavy front doors. He was gone before anyone else could react.
39
Day hit the road running. He took the main street away from the church and the deep woods behind it and raced headlong toward the center of the village. The wind was blowing much stronger than when he’d entered the church, and the snow drove straight at him, a billowing white curtain. He was still wearing his overcoat, but he’d left his hat behind, and his ears were numb within seconds. His feet slipped on the icy cobblestones and he adjusted his pace, twisting his boots slightly with each hurried step to gain better traction. His feet sank deep in the snow and his boots filled, soaking his socks, freezing his ankles.
He misjudged the bend in the road and stopped short, his nose inches from the front of the apothecary. He turned and fished his gloves out of his pocket, decided from memory where the road curved, and set out again, going more slowly now, pulling on his gloves as he went.
It was much like swimming, he thought. Swimming in some arctic current.
It took him nearly half an hour to reach the well at the center of town. He couldn’t see the inn, but he knew it was only a few yards away from him. The same journey, going the other way, from the inn to the church, had taken him perhaps ten or fifteen minutes earlier that morning, before the sun had risen and brought the storm with it.
He stood at the mouth of the well, close enough to tumble into it. It was made of the same grey stone as the older buildings in Blackhampton, stacked and mortared into place. Day judged the surrounding wall to be roughly three feet high, a sloped cover over the top that allowed most of the current snowfall to slide off and pile at the base of the well in an ever-widening wedge.
He took a deep breath and uncorked his flask.
“You’re not going down there, sir.”
Day turned, his mouth full, brandy fumes stinging his throat and nostrils. He swallowed and caught his breath before he spoke. “How on earth did you keep up with me, Nevil? You’re ill.”
“Not so ill as all that, sir,” Hammersmith said.
“I thought I was moving awfully fast.”
“I did think I’d lost you for a bit there, but then you materialized out of the snow before me. Your dark overcoat was easy enough to follow.”
“Ah, you must have caught up at the bend in the road. You’ve got a better sense of direction than I have.”
“You can’t have thought I’d let you go out alone in this.”
“I didn’t think at all. Just wanted to get here.”
“You weren’t planning to go down that well, were you?”
