Resurrectionist

The room went quiet.

“Thank you, Hawkwood,” James Read said quickly into the tense silence. “That will be all. Perhaps you should wait outside.” The Chief Magistrate’s warning look made it clear this was not a suggestion.

The Home Secretary waited until Hawkwood had left the room before casting his glare at the Chief Magistrate. “You’d do well to keep your man muzzled, Read. I don’t care whose damned ear you’re close to, I’ll not have anyone talk to me that way, especially a constable. I’m a minister of the Crown, for God’s sake!”

McGrigor coughed. “Perhaps Hawkwood is right. Perhaps we should have handed Hyde to the French when we had the chance.”

Ryder swung around. “Well, I rather think the consequences of that decision rest on your shoulders, McGrigor, not mine.”

“I’ll not disagree with you, Home Secretary,” McGrigor said calmly, the lilt in his voice sounding even more pronounced. “Though it’s a decision we’ll all have to live with. I’d say we share a collective responsibility, wouldn’t you?”

Ryder stared at the Surgeon-General for several seconds before giving a noncommittal grunt and shifting his gaze to James Read. “Can your man hunt him down?”

“I believe so. He’s very resourceful. Though from what we have seen so far, Colonel Hyde may prove to be an elusive quarry.”

“Then we must pray that he picks up Hyde’s scent soon, eh? You’ll keep me informed on his progress?”

Read nodded. “Of course.”

Ryder moved away from the window, towards the door. It was a clear signal that he considered the meeting to be drawing to a close.

“You expect him to kill again, don’t you?” McGrigor said from his chair.

Ryder frowned at the interjection.

Read hesitated. “Officer Hawkwood is of the opinion that Colonel Hyde has some sort of agenda. It’s possible he could kill again if he feels that agenda to be either threatened or stymied. Our difficulty lies in not knowing the nature of the agenda.” Read looked at McGrigor. “You have greater knowledge of the man. Do you have any thoughts that could assist us? Why he might be obtaining bodies. Why he’s doing what he’s doing?”

McGrigor lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I wish I did. I’m truly sorry, I’ve told you all I know.”

“Then perhaps an educated guess?” Read said.

McGrigor pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. “It is possible, if it is Colonel Hyde, that he’s doing it because he believes his work is incomplete.”

Read frowned. “How so?”

“The colonel was removed from his surgical duties against what he thinks of as his better judgement. It could be that he believes there are still lives to be saved, bodies to be mended.”

“You mean he’s obtaining body parts in order to use them?” Read looked taken aback. “On whom?”

“There you have me. I’ve no idea. You asked for an educated guess. It’s the only one I can come up with.” McGrigor gave a helpless shrug. “Frankly, any guess you made would be as valid as anything I might propose. I’m not a mad-doctor, Read. Whatever’s going on in Colonel Hyde’s brain is outside my sphere of knowledge. That’s why we signed him over to the Bethlem authorities.”

And look what good that did, Read thought.

“Dear God, the man’s insane! One might as well try and fly to the moon on a broomstick as attempt to make sense of anything he does.” Ryder stared at them both.

Read suspected the Home Secretary’s outburst derived from concern for his own office rather than the colonel’s state of mind or the danger the latter might present to an unknowing populace. The last thing Ryder would want was for his deal with the French and the machinations behind the colonel’s incarceration in Bedlam – and by association the control his department was exercising over the country’s system of asylums – to be brought before the public gaze.

Ryder glared. “Forget the whys and wherefores, Read. That isn’t your function. Your job isn’t to come up with a cure, it’s to catch him! Set your dogs loose and catch him!”

Read looked at McGrigor, who said nothing but lifted an eyebrow in silent communication of a common understanding.

Read allowed himself to look thoughtful, then nodded. “In that case, Home Secretary, I will take my leave. Your servant, Surgeon McGrigor. Thank you for your time. Good day to you both.”

“My secretary will see you out,” Ryder said stiffly, moving towards the bell-pull.

“There’s no need,” Read said, picking up his hat and cane. “I know the way.”

James Read winced as the carriage lurched over a pothole. From above them came the crack of a whip and a sharp curse from the coachman, Caleb, as they turned into the Strand. They were heading back to Bow Street.

“So our colonel’s a bloody maniac,” Hawkwood said. “No wonder they wanted it hushed up. They even kept Eden Carslow in the dark.”

“McGrigor thinks Colonel Hyde may be obtaining the bodies in order to carry out surgical procedures,” Read said.

Hawkwood closed his eyes. “God’s teeth.”

“He was unable to expand on his theory. He simply said it was a possibility.”

“What about Home Secretary Ryder? Did he have anything else to say?”

“I’m afraid the Home Secretary doesn’t like you, Hawkwood. He told me I was to keep you muzzled. He also wants you to hunt the colonel down.” Read gazed out of the carriage window. “One wonders how you can do one if you’re constrained by the other.”

“The man’s an idiot,” Hawkwood said.

“A harsh judgement.”

“Not really,” Hawkwood said. “From what I’ve seen of them, most politicians are idiots. It’s a known fact. All the trouble in the world is started by politicians. And when they realize they can’t get themselves out of trouble, they expect people like you and me to step in to protect their arses.”

“And how do you propose to protect the Home Secretary’s … er … arse?” Read asked.

“Maybe I should be looking for the men who are working for Hyde,” Hawkwood said. “If I can find them, it’s possible they’ll lead me to the colonel.”

“You’re talking about the men who left the bodies outside Bart’s?”

“You still think I’m clutching at straws?”

Read stared out of the window. Finally he turned back. “Have you thought how you are going to find them?”

“By doing something I should have done a while ago.”

“Talking to your former comrade-in-arms, perhaps?”

“With,” Hawkwood said. “Not to.”

A nerve trembled at the corner of the magistrate’s mouth.

“If anyone can get me information on them, it’s Nathaniel. Though it’s been a while since we talked.”

Read raised an eyebrow.

“I think he might have been insulted when I offered him Henry Warlock’s job.”

“You’re surprised he turned the position down?”

“Not really. I can’t see him as a Runner. Besides, he told me he couldn’t afford the drop in salary.”

There was a definite twitch along the Chief Magistrate’s jawline that time.

The carriage slowed, clattered towards the kerb, and stopped. Hawkwood got out and held the door open. The coachman tipped his hat and waited until the two men had entered the building before driving off.

“There’s a message for you,” Twigg said, when they entered the ante-room. “He said his name was Leech.” The clerk held out the folded paper.

Hawkwood broke the seal.I have information that may be pertinent to your investigation. Locke

If she dropped her price any lower, Molly Finn thought dejectedly, she’d be giving it away. Business had been depressingly slow so far and it didn’t look as though it was going to get any better any time soon.

Molly put it down to the weather. It couldn’t seem to make up its mind. One moment, rain; the next sleet and