Ghostly Images (10 page)

“They are all portraits. Charity Baxter needs to see the image of her late sister. Brenda Miller hopes to see the image of her father. Orson Snaith is desperate to see his son. Two Spiritualists want to see the image of their friend. Mr and Mrs Linfold, a recently married couple, hope to see a white glow around both their hearts to signify a long and happy life together.”

“Apart from the Linfolds, does Hood say what the people looked like?”

“There are only brief details. Hood says that the files might have a photograph of Brenda Miller’s father. ”

That afternoon, they took the photographs and processed the plates. David took the photographs with the Tate camera with a one-second exposure each time. He also prepared the chemicals for the darkroom. John developed the plates in the conventional way without any trickery.

After this was done, David and John worked together on the next stage in the process—faking the images. David found a photograph of Mr Miller taken some years earlier by Marsh. They superimposed this image at the side of the photograph of his daughter.

While the prints were still damp, John picked up a magnifying glass to check their quality. “I can see tiny white dots on the image of the two Spiritualists. If you join the dots, they form the image of a human face.” John passed the magnifying glass and print to David so he could study the image.

David shook his head dismissively. “I can’t see anything unusual.”

“I still think the camera has psychic powers.”

“Based on the evidence of a few meaningless dots? There’s nothing odd on the glass plates of Baxter, Miller, and the Linfold couple. Is there?”

“But there was with Elizabeth Betts.”

“This is tiresome, John. We’ve been through all of the scientific explanations already.”

John glared at David. “Science has the answer to
everything
for you. Why do you dismiss the paranormal? Don’t you have any faith in anything else, apart from science?”

David folded his arms. “Like God, the afterlife, and other silly fairy stories?”

“I have faith in God,” said John, wagging his finger. “I’ll be reunited with my parents in the next life. You may not believe in this, but plenty of other people do.”

David took a deep breath. He didn’t need an argument with John to add to his headache. “John, science has all the answers, not primitive faith and superstition.”

Chapter 17

Thursday 30
th
August 1894

H
OOD
SANK
BACK
IN
HIS
CHAIR
and sipped whisky from his glass. At intervals, he glanced across to his tank labelled D
OOM
V
IPER
. Across from him sat Percy.

“Aren’t you being too generous with the lads?” asked Percy.

“David and John will soon fall into line. Ten shillings for a day’s work might seem a lot of money to give them, but I am making a net profit of ten pounds just for today. The noose effect on Silas will get me four guineas alone from Samuel West.”

Percy stroked his finger across the rim of his empty glass. “We need to keep a close eye on them, especially David.”

Hood nodded. “For the next few days.”

Percy brought the knife out from his pocket and stroked the blade before returning it. “With pleasure.”

“When are we getting the contraband from
The Tempest
?”

Percy reached in his pocket and brought out a scrap of paper and read it. “On Friday. She docks at about two o’clock.”

“Good.” Hood was glad he’d taught Percy to read and write. Percy had been a reluctant pupil, but it proved good for business despite his never showing the slightest inclination to read any of the books Hood had littering his home. He sometimes wished he’d inspired Percy to groom instead. There were traces of food in Percy’s bushy beard. Breadcrumbs. Hood always preferred to be clean-shaven.

“Do you know why I like you, Percy?”

Percy whipped out his knife in a flash. “’Cos I’m handy with me knife.”

“Yes, but you have an interesting, flickering tongue, like my snakes.”

“I didn’t know that,” Percy casually remarked and placed his knife back in his pocket.

Hood could not put it off any longer and went over to the tank labelled D
OOM
V
IPER
. It had hardly moved an inch all day. “My American kingsnake is getting worse. I thought it might have lasted out to Christmas, but it is unlikely to survive for more than a few weeks at best.”

“When the time comes, will you put another kingsnake in the tank with it? Those greedy sods eat one another if there’s half a chance.”

“Never! It will have a proper burial.”

“For a snake?”

Hood gave Percy a withering glance. “They are beautiful creatures, Percy.”

“I don’t have any interest in animals or reptiles.”

“I remember you had a dog that you were very fond of.”

“My son loved that animal.” Percy began to rub the back of his hand on his nose, but when Hood sharply tapped his cane, he immediately stopped. “I could have stabbed the coastguard man the other day. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“Then he would have had a quick exit from the world, something he denied to your son and the rest of the crew of the ship.”

“They must have been screaming in that storm, yet he whistles merrily to himself when he climbs the 199 Steps to coastguard station. He must suffer.”

“He will, believe me. Soon, he will meet a phantom.”

Percy looked askance. “How will you get phantom to appear?”

Hood grinned as the puzzled look on Percy’s face transformed into a grin of realisation.

“I’ve always fancied being a phantom,” Percy said.

“We will slowly drive the man mad. When the time is right, you can use your knife.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Percy scratched his beard and a breadcrumb fell to the floor. “Are you looking forward to your weekly visit to Meredith Watson later?” he asked mischievously.

“I was happy to oust Marsh from his studio after what he did to her daughter. Meredith was...unusually grateful for my help, shall we say.”

Percy chuckled and then looked pensively at his empty glass. “You can say that again. She’d always make me pay through the nose.”

Hood flinched. He certainly didn’t love Meredith, but the thought of the bushy-bearded Percy naked on top of her was mildly unsettling. “She has had a very hard life, but Meredith is a good lady.”

“She adores you.” A sly grin emerged. “It wouldn’t surprise me if I walked in your house one day to see her putting up new frilly curtains.”

Hood shook his head in disgust. “That day will never come, Percy. A brief visit to her house once a week is sufficient for me. If you have truly loved a woman, no other woman can take her place.” He sighed. “Let us have another drink in memory of Eleanor. She will be difficult to replace.” Hood went over and topped up Percy’s drink before topping off his own.

Percy lifted his glass. “To Eleanor.”

“To my little angel.” Hood raised his glass.

Percy sniggered. “Shall we drink a toast to Tanner next?”

Hood glared. “Only when he is dead and buried.”

“Did he give you a hard time last night?”

“I admitted to knowing Eleanor and that she helped me feed and care for the snakes and cooked me delicious meals.”

“Did he believe that?”

“That does not concern me. He cannot arrest me. You are my alibi, remember, if he calls you in for questioning. East Whitby would rally to defend me if I were in jeopardy.”

In truth, Hood was damned if he’d let Percy or anyone know that Tanner got the upper hand during the interrogation. Percy was in awe of him, and he liked to keep it that way. Hood needed to make up for this disappointment. At least with Jack, he was on sure footing from start to finish. He guessed that Percy’s next words would be about Jack, and he was right.

“Are you worried about Jack? He lost his job when he didn’t take them cigars back.”

Hood raised his severed thumb. “This is cast-iron proof that Jack is a coward. I do not need to waste my time worrying about him. Let us go to The Frigate Arms. While it was good sport to have humiliated Tanner, it will be more entertaining to have some fun with Jack this evening.”

“But how can you be sure he’ll be there?”

Hood flashed a wry smile. “My psychic powers, Percy!”

I
NSIDE
T
HE
F
RIGATE
ARMS
, Hood and Percy saw Jack sat in a corner, gulping from his tankard of ale.

As soon as Hood and Percy got their drinks, they strode over to Jack but did not sit down. “I was hoping to see you Jack,” said Hood.

“You stole me map!” Jack spat flecks of phlegm as he spoke.

“You spit like my cobra Chief Constable. But your spit is feeble. My snake’s spit would blind you if it went into your eyes. Even worse would happen if it were to bite you since that would mean certain death.”

“It’s just another trick with a harmless snake. You can’t fool me a second time.”

“I have harmless snakes, but the Chief Constable snake is deadly. That is why I never take it out of its tank.”

“I don’t believe it,” sneered Jack.

Hood signalled the landlord over. “Danny refused to believe I had any dangerous snakes, but I proved him wrong. Ask him if you do not believe me.”

The pot-bellied landlord with a badly scarred cheek leant forward. “Hood gave me a choice of putting me hand inside tank or a kitten Percy found in the street. Wisely, as it turned out, I pointed to the kitten. That cobra bit and killed it stone dead. Bloody horrible it was.” The landlord shook his head and returned to his business behind the bar.

“If I ever stoop so low as to invite you into my house, you would see the tank labelled ‘Chief Constable.’” Hood chuckled. “Except you would not have known, since you cannot read. It is in the largest tank of all, and the only one labelled in red ink for it is truly deadly.”

“You stole me map,” Jack persisted.

“Why would I steal a useless map from a worthless object like you?”

“It was in me pocket when I came in but not when I buggered off. Who else could have stolen it?”

“You probably lost the map yourself because of your immense stupidity. You should not put the blame on others.”

Jack glared at Hood. “I’m going to kill you.”

Hood tapped his cane sharply on the floor to gain the attention of the regulars. “Friends! Whitby’s biggest coward of the century—Jack Sheldon— has just threatened to kill me! I am quaking in fear!” Hood did a theatrical shake of his body. Some of the regulars began to laugh.

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” vowed Jack as he got to his feet and headed for the door.

Hood shouted after him. “What do you think of your photograph, Jack?”

“What photograph?”

Hood beckoned over his associates who were in the bar, Jasper, Uriah, Graham, and Alan. “It is on the wall behind the counter. Let us look, shall we?”

The men went to view the photograph. Jasper pointed as Jack stepped forward to take a closer look.

“You bastard!” he screamed. He tried to reach for it, but Jasper and Uriah pulled him away while Graham and Alan formed a barrier in front of the photograph.

“That image is priceless. It shows the most gormless idiot on God’s green earth,” said Hood as he twisted the handle on his cane and removed the sword from within its case. He waved it inches away from Jack’s nose.

At first, Jack stood with a defiant expression and then turned abruptly and ran away.

Hood and his merry men burst into loud laughter.

“I think we need another drink,” declared Hood. “Alan, I believe this is your round.”

“It’s not,” said Alan.

“It is,” insisted Percy, punching Alan’s shoulder.

Jasper chuckled. “Alan’s a tight bastard. He never gets a round in.”

For the next hour, Hood observed with amusement the arguments and banter amongst his associates. They were not his friends; that title only applied to a small number of people, like Percy, whom he could completely trust.

But these men were useful, nevertheless. Jasper and Graham were cunning and adept at pickpocketing and were both tall and strong. He still regretted not getting one of them to operate the hoist in Lythe Castle instead of Percy. Graham had lost his left eye in a fight some years ago and wore an eye patch. Graham’s best friend Jasper had a badly scarred and virtually bald head, apart from a few tufts of hair at the back as a result of a failed burglary attempt when the homeowner and his two sons set out to teach Jasper a lesson by scalping him.

Uriah was four feet tall, dim, but agile at climbing over roofs and shimming up and down drainpipes to do burglaries. He’d once been working in the House of Wonders under the name of Tiny Man, but left after an argument with West. Uriah had thick brown hair and an attractive face. Had he been taller, Hood had no doubt the young women of Whitby would beat a path to his door.

Alan’s features resembled that of a sewer rat. He was the most light-fingered member of the group and would steal from his own mother given half the chance. There was a curious honour among thieves, but unfortunately, it did not extend to Alan who never bought a round of drinks and cadged beer, spirits, and tobacco off the others. Hood had always been wary of Alan. It was petty thieves with no honour or principles like Alan that could easily become police informers.

Hood had already killed one police informer. He had no qualms about killing another.

Alan gave a knowing wink to Hood. “I’ve had a close look at the print. Looks like you’re going to be murdered and Jack will cop it at end of a rope. I know all about Tate.”

Hood tightened his grip on his cane. Why was he getting unnerved about the supposed psychic claims of the Tate camera when he’d made up most of the claims himself? Patrick Tate was nothing more than a crook.

“You’ve smudged it with your dirty fingers, more like,” added Jasper.

“I can’t see nowt on it,” said Percy.

“I’m not surprised with yer bloody big beard,” sniggered Alan.