Cater Street Hangman

“Edward,” Caroline said very quietly, “if something has happened, we shall have to know. Maddock had as well tell us all as leave us in suspense.”

Maddock looked to Edward.

“Very well,” Edward nodded. “What is it, Maddock?”

“There has been another murder, sir, in an alley off Cater Street.”

“Oh, my God!” Edward went sheet-white and sat down hard on the chair behind him. There was a low moan from Sarah.

“Who was it?” Caroline said so quietly she could barely be heard.

“Verity Lessing, ma’am, the sexton’s daughter,” Maddock answered her. “A constable has just come from the police to tell us, and warn us all to stay in the house, and not to let the maids out, even into the areaway.”

“No, of course not,” Edward looked stunned, staring into the room blindly. “Was it the same-?”

“Yes, sir, with a garotting wire, like the others.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Perhaps I had better go and check all the doors again, sir? And close the shutters on the windows. It would reassure the women.”

“Yes,” Edward agreed absently. “Yes, do that, please.”

“Maddock?” Caroline called as he turned to leave.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Before you do, please bring us a bottle of brandy and some glasses. I think we could do with a little- help.”

“Yes, ma’am, certainly.”

A moment after he had brought them in and left there was another clatter outside as Dominic came in, shaking the rain off his jacket.

“Should have taken a coat,” he said, looking at his wet hands. “Didn’t expect the change.” His eyes moved from their faces to the brandy and back again. “What’s the matter? You look awful! Come to think of it, there were people all over the street. Mama?” He frowned, peering at her. “Grandmama’s not ill, is she?”

“No,” Edward answered for Caroline. “There’s been another murder. You’d better sit down and have some brandy, too.”

Dominic stared at him, his face blanching. “Oh God!” He drew in his breath and let it out. “Who?”

“Verity Lessing.”

Dominic sat down. “The sexton’s daughter?”

“Yes.” Edward poured him some brandy and passed the glass.

“What’s happening?” Dominic said bewilderedly. “Was this in Cater Street, too?”

“In an alley just off it,” Edward replied. “I suppose we must face it; whoever this madman is, he is someone who lives here, near Cater Street; or else he has business here, some reason to come here regularly.”

No one answered him. Charlotte watched his face. All she could think of was her overwhelming relief that he had been home all evening, that this time when Pitt came-as she did not doubt he would-there would be no questions for Papa.

“I’m sorry,” Edward went on. “We can no longer pretend it is some creature from the criminal slums invading us by mischance.”

“Papa?” Emily said tremulously. “You don’t imagine it could be-could actually be someone we know, do you?”

“Of course not!” Sarah said sharply. “It must be someone quite deranged!”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t someone we know.” Charlotte painfully gave expression to the thoughts that had been forming in her mind. “After all, someone must know him!”

“I don’t know what you mean?” Sarah frowned at her. “I don’t know anyone deranged.”

“How do you know that you don’t?”

“Of course I don’t!”

Dominic turned to her. “What are you trying to say, Charlotte? That we wouldn’t know if someone were as mad as this?”

“Well, would you?” Charlotte looked back at him. “If it were so easy to see, wouldn’t those who do know him have said something, done something by now? After all, someone must know him-tradesmen, servants, neighbours-even if he doesn’t have a family!”

“Oh, but how awful.” Emily stared at her. “Imagine being servant to someone, or neighbour, and knowing they were-mad like that, that they killed women-”

“That’s what I’m trying to say!” Charlotte turned from one to another of them urgently. “I don’t think you would know, or he would have been captured long ago. The police have talked to all sorts of people. If someone knew, it would have come out by now.”

“Well, there are several people I can think of who are not all they seem to be on the surface,” Grandmama spoke for the first time. “I’ve always said you can’t tell what wickedness lies underneath the smooth face people show to the world. Some that appear saints are devils underneath.”

“And some that appear devils are still devils, no matter how far underneath you look,” Charlotte said instinctively.

“Is that remark supposed to mean anything?” Grandmama asked very tartly. “It’s time, young woman, that you learned to control your tongue! In my young day a girl your age knew how to behave herself!”

“In your day you were not faced with four murders in the streets where you lived.” Caroline came to Charlotte’s defence, and obliquely her own. “Or so you frequently inform us.”

“Perhaps that is why!” Grandmama returned.

“Why what?” Sarah asked. “We all know that Charlotte’s tongue runs away with her, but are you suggesting that it is responsible for Verity Lessing’s murder off Cater Street this evening?”

“You are impertinent, Sarah!” Grandmama snapped. “And it is quite unlike you.”

“I think you are being unfair, Grandmama,” Dominic smiled at her. He could usually charm her-he knew it, and used it. “We are rather badly shocked, both by the loss of someone we know, and the thought that the murderer may also be someone we know, or at least have seen.”

“Yes, mama.” Edward stood up. “Perhaps you should retire. Caroline will see that you are brought something to drink before you sleep.”

Grandmama stared at him belligerently.

“I do not wish to go to bed. I will not be dismissed!”

“I think it is better,” Edward said firmly.

Grandmama sat where she was, but she had met her match, and a few minutes later she allowed him to help her up and, with considerable ill grace, went to bed.

“Thank God,” Caroline said wearily. “It really is too much.”

“Nevertheless,” Dominic scowled, “we cannot avoid the truth that, as Charlotte said, it could be anyone-even someone we speak to, someone we have always felt perfectly at ease with-”

“Stop it, Dominic!” Sarah sat upright. “You will have us suspecting our neighbours, even our friends. We will become unable to conduct a proper conversation with anyone without wondering in our hearts if they could be the one!”

“Perhaps it would be as well,” Emily said thoughtfully, “until he is found.”

“Emily! How can you say such a thing, even in jest? And it is a bad enough time for humour of any sort.”

“Emily is not being humorous,” Dominic put in for her. “She is being eminently practical, as always. And to an extent she is right. Perhaps if Verity Lessing had been more suspicious, she would now be alive.”

A new thought occurred to Charlotte. “Do you think so, Dominic? Do you think that is why no one has heard screams-because whoever did it was known to each victim, and they were not afraid until it was too late?”

Dominic paled. Obviously he had not thought of it: his mind had been following his words, not leading them. His imagination was still far behind.

Charlotte was surprised. She thought he had seen the conclusion before her. “It would explain it,” she said unhappily.

“So would being taken by surprise from behind,” Sarah pointed out.

“I think this conversation is unprofitable,” Edward interrupted. “We cannot protect ourselves by indulging in