'How do you feel now?'
'Vengeful.'
'I thought that we had a lucky escape.'
'What's lucky about being thrown head first from a moving cart?'
Butterkiss laughed. 'You will have your little joke, Sergeant.'
They turned into the Saracen's Head and went up the stairs. When they were let into Colbeck's room, they were each offered a chair. The Inspector perched on the edge of the bed.
'Thank you for coming so promptly, Constable,' he said.
'Feel free to call on me at any hour of the day,' urged Butterkiss.
'We need your guidance.'
'It's yours for the asking, Inspector.'
'Then I'd like you to take another look at these names,' said Colbeck, handing him the petition. 'Are you ready, Victor?'
'Yes, sir,' said Leeming, taking his notebook dutifully from his pocket. 'I'll write down all the relevant details.'
'We drew a blank with the first batch of names. Can you take us slowly through the next dozen or so, please?'
'If I can read their handwriting,' said Butterkiss, poring over the document. 'There are one or two signatures that defy even me.'
'Do your best, Constable.'
'You can always count on me to do that.'
Taking a deep breath, he identified the first name and described the man in detail. As soon as he learnt the age of the person, Colbeck interrupted and told him to move on to the next one. Leeming's pencil was busy, writing down names then crossing them out again. Of the fifteen people that Butterkiss recognised, only seven were deemed to be worth closer inspection.
'Thank you,' said Colbeck. 'Now turn to the women, please.'
Butterkiss lifted an eyebrow. 'The women, sir?'
'As opposed to the men,' explained Leeming.
'But a woman couldn't possibly have committed those murders on the trains nor could one have fired that shot at you, Inspector.'
'You are mistaken about that,' said Colbeck. 'Earlier this year, the Sergeant and I arrested a woman in Deptford who had shot her husband with his army revolver. The bullet went straight through his body and wounded the young lady who was in bed with him at the time.'
'Dear me!' exclaimed Butterkiss.
'Never underestimate the power of the weaker sex, Constable.'
'No, sir.'
He addressed himself to the petition once more and picked out the female names that he recognised. Most were found to be very unlikely suspects but three names joined the Sergeant's list.
'Did you make a note of their details, Victor?' asked Colbeck.
'Yes, Inspector.'
'Good. You can talk to those three ladies tomorrow.'
'What about me?' said Butterkiss.
'I have two important tasks for you, Constable.'
'Just tell me what they are.'
'I want you to find Amos Lockyer for me.'
'I'll do it somehow,' vowed Butterkiss. 'What's the other task?'
Colbeck reached for his frock coat. 'I wonder if you could look at this sleeve for me?' he said. 'Tell me if it's beyond repair.'
Winifred Hawkshaw was on tenterhooks. Whenever she heard a sound from the adjoining bedroom, she feared that her daughter had woken up and was either trying to open the door or to escape through the window. After a sleepless night, she used her key to let herself into Emily's room and found her fast asleep. Putting a chair beside the bed, Winifred sat down and kept vigil. It was an hour before the girl's eyelids fluttered. Her mother took hold of her hand.
'Good morning,' she said, sweetly.
Emily was confused. 'Where am I?'
'In your own bed, dear.'
'Is that you, Mother?'
'Yes.' Winifred rubbed her hand. 'It's me, Emily.'
'I feel strange. What happened?'
'The doctor gave you something to make you sleep.'
'The doctor?' The news brought Emily fully awake. 'You let a doctor touch me?'
'You'd passed out, Emily. When the Inspector brought you down from that tower, you were in a dead faint.'
The girl needed a moment to assimilate the information. When she remembered what she had tried to do, she brought a hand up to her mouth. Her eyes darted nervously around the room. She felt trapped.
'We need to talk,' said Winifred, softly.
'I've nothing to say.'
'Emily!'
'I haven't, Mother. I meant to jump off that tower.'
'No, I can't believe that,' insisted her mother. 'Is your life so bad that you could even think of such a thing? It's sinful, Emily. It's so cruel and selfish and you're neither of those things. Don't hurt us any more.'
'I wasn't doing it to hurt you.'
'Then what made you go up there in the first place?'
'I was afraid.'
'Of what?'
'Everything.'
Emily began to sob quietly and her mother bent over to hug her. The embrace lasted a long time and it seemed to help the girl because it stemmed her tears. She became so quiet that Winifred wondered if she had fallen asleep again. When she drew back, however, she saw that Emily's eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling.
'Promise me that you won't do anything like this again,' said Winifred, solemnly. 'Give me your sacred word of honour.' A bleak silence ensued. 'Did you hear what I said, Emily?'
'Yes.'
'Then give me that promise.'
'I promise,' murmured the girl.
'Say it as if you mean it,' scolded Winifred. 'As it is, the whole town will know what happened yesterday and I'll have to face the shame of that. Don't make it any worse for me, emily. We love you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?'
'Yes.'
'Then behave as if it does.'
'I will.'
Emily sat up in bed and reached out for her mother. Both of them were crying now, locked together, sharing their pain, trying to find a bond that had somehow been lost. At length, it was the daughter who pulled away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and made an effort to control herself.
'You need more time,' said Winifred, watching her closely.
'You need more time to think about what you did and why you did it.'
'I do.'
'But I'll want the truth, Emily.'
