The Circle of Sappho (27 page)

‘She used to come in to see me every day, then go home at night. When her husband died three years ago she moved in here permanently. It is much better, I think, and she looks after me well. Oh Jack, it is so nice to see you. I have thought of you often.'

She leant forward a little. ‘After your father died,' she said, ‘I told you that you could cry if you wanted to, but you never did. I am truly sorry about what happened to your father, Jack. I still blame myself for it after all these years.'

‘Why do you blame yourself, Mrs Hunter? It was not your fault.'

‘Your father should not have been in the house that night. If only my sister had not been ill, God rest her soul.'

Mrs Bailey returned with a tray which she laid on a table. She took the glass off it and placed it in one of Mrs Hunter's hands, guiding the fingers around it.

‘A little drop of port never did no one no harm,' said Mrs Hunter, swallowing a mouthful of the dark liquid.

‘I'll be in the back garden if you require anything, Mrs Hunter,' said Mrs Bailey as she left the room.

Alone once more, Swann took Mrs Hunter's hands and looked into her face.

‘I need to know the truth about my father, Mrs Hunter.'

‘You will have to speak a little louder Jack, I'm still as deaf as I was, but as I am almost blind I can no longer lip-read.'

‘I said, I have to know the truth about my father,' Swann repeated loudly. ‘Was he a gambler, did he have a sickness?'

‘Do not think badly of your father, Jack. He was a good man with a kind heart. But yes, he did gamble, although I saw it as a weakness, not a sickness. He did not know when to stop, he always believed his luck was about to change and that he would win enough money to give the start in life he wanted for you. He only wanted what was best for you, Jack. He told me that himself. He didn't want you to go into service, like he had. If you want my opinion though, I don't think your father ever recovered from losing your mother. It was very hard for him bringing you up on his own, and I think he gambled to take away the pain.'

‘Where did my father go to gamble?'

‘I do not know exactly where your father went,' said Mrs Hunter, ‘only that he would always return late, having lost all his money. Your father would always make sure you were asleep, once he had read to you, before he left. I would then hear him come back, several hours later. I would make him a drink and he would tell me his plans, for when he won a lot of money. He wanted to make a better life for himself, for both of you. He wanted you to become a gentleman. He said he knew he could not afford to do that on his wages – even though he considered himself well-treated by the Gardiners – so that's why he gambled. I am sorry you know the truth, Jack, but perhaps after all this time it is for the best. It does not take away what your father felt for you. He always made sure you were provided for first.'

‘What about the night he was killed? Do you remember anything?'

‘As you know, I had to look after my sister and so your father did not go out. I stayed the night with her, and when I came back the following day I heard what had happened. That's all I know.'

Swann's many years as an investigator meant he knew immediately that Mrs Hunter was lying.

‘Mrs Hunter, please, I need to know the truth.You will probably not tell me anything I have not heard myself, it is just that I do not know whether to believe it or not.'

‘Then believe it is not true.'

‘What do you know? Mrs Hunter, please, I need to know.'

Mrs Hunter sighed and held one of Swann's hands again.

‘One of the servants that worked for the family, he wasn't there long, he had certain relations that were a little bit on the … well, you know what I mean. He told me a story not long after your father was killed. I told him I did not believe him, but he said it was true. Your father used to gamble at the same club all the time – as I said, I do not know what it was called. What I do know is that it was run by some nasty types. Your father became heavily in debt to them, through his gambling, and they gave him a chance to pay them off. He told them Tuesday evenings were the staff's night off and the Gardiners always went out until late. The only ones in the house would be us and we would not cause them any trouble; you would be asleep and I would most likely not have heard them. What happened that night was never planned though, I am certain of that. It was just tragic your father did not go out that night.'

‘If he knew they were going to break into the house, why did he try and stop them?'

‘I do not know. Perhaps a change of heart, perhaps protecting you.'

There was a silence between them, both lost in thoughts of the past and comforted by the other's presence, once more, after all these years.

Swann was already inside the Fountain Inn when George and Bridges entered. He had arrived shortly before seven and ensconced himself in one of the alcoves. He had been in various drinking houses in the Avon Street district for the last hour or so, in disguise, listening out for any news or information regarding the Scarred Man's whereabouts, but had come to the Fountain without hearing any mention of him. It was the same response when he asked the two thief-takers.

‘If this man you want is in the area, Mr Swann,' said George, ‘no one is talking about him, at least not when we were about.'

Swann accepted this with quiet sanguinity. ‘The evening is yet early,' he said, ‘and so we may still hear something. The information I received did report he was due here
sometime
tonight.'

Bridges tugged George's arm. George nodded.

‘Mr Swann, Bridges would like to say he appree … appreesh …'

‘Appreciates?' injected Swann.

‘Yes, sir. Bridges appreeshates what you have done for Rosie. It was a good thing you did for her, Mr Swann.'

‘I was only too happy to assist, George, although I believe it will turn out to be mutually beneficial.'

‘Mute what sir?'

‘Mutually beneficial, George; it means that finding a room for Rosie might help me as much as it helps her.'

‘What do you mean, sir?' For a moment George looked a little suspicious of Swann's motives.

‘It is nothing like that, George,' Swann reassured him. ‘What it means is that I have persuaded Rosie, in return for living rent-free, to help me in my work, like you and Bridges. There will be no danger involved for her though, I will make certain of that, but as a woman she may be able to gain access to places that you and Bridges might not.'

‘How do you mean, sir?'

‘Ladies' dressing rooms for a start, George.'

‘I've been in a few of them myself, Mr Swann.'

‘I am sure you have, George, but Rosie told me that along with playing the violin, she has acted in a few plays, back in Ireland, when she was younger. I may be able to use her talents.'

‘If you ask me, Mr Swann, I don't think she'd be much good.'

‘Why is that, George?'

‘She's too well-known 'round here. Everyone would know her face straight off.'

Swann thought for a moment.

‘You might be right, George. Perhaps I will have to rethink my decision.'

George nodded, pleased to have been able to help Mr Swann.

‘So here is the plan for the evening,' said Swann, returning to the business at hand. ‘I suggest, gentlemen, that we all take different parts of the district. George, you go across to Horse Street and then visit the public houses in Corn Street and Back Street; Bridges, you go as far as Peter Street and then make your way back, visiting any places you think might be worth going into. I'll take Avon Street itself, I'll start at the Duke of York and work my way back up to here. We will return here at the striking of the next hour with any information.'

There were nods of agreement from George and Bridges, then George said: ‘If you're thinking of visiting all the pubs in Avon Street, Mr Swann, it will take more than an hour. There are a lot of pubs down here.'

‘Thank you, George, although I have thought of that; I have asked someone to visit several of them as well. Ah here she is now. Hello Georgette.'

A grotesque-looking woman with a wart on her nose and an awful stench emanating from her clothes sat herself down next to George. George edged away from the woman.

‘Georgette, this is George.'

‘Oh did you 'ere that? Georgette and George; we'd make a right couple now wouldn't we love,' said the woman, nudging George as she spoke in her broad Somerset accent. ‘Georgette and George, why that's a match made in 'eaven that is, if I do say so me-self.' She lifted her left buttock off the seat a little and let wind.

‘Thinking about it,' said Swann, ‘it might be more agreeable if we stay in pairs. I will go with Bridges and George, you can go with Georgette.'

Bridges nodded at this arrangement but George looked less certain.

Georgette nudged an increasingly annoyed George.

‘That'll be nice, won' it? We can spend the dimmet together, jis you and me. We'll get comferbull somewhere and perhaps even get up to somefin' naughty.'

‘I don't think that being in twos is a good idea, Mr Swann,' muttered George.

‘Why not, George?'

‘Because I, er … I …'

The woman leant in close to George and, reverting to her Irish accent, said: ‘Ah, come on sweetie, you didn't think it was such a bad idea when you suggested it to me last year.'

George, having realised the true identity of ‘Georgette', angrily stood up and stormed out. As he went he shouted, ‘I'll see you all in an hour.' Swann, Bridges and Rosie burst out laughing. Rosie had signed to Bridges as soon as she had entered the inn, so he had been aware of the deceit from the beginning.

As good as his word, George was back in the Fountain at eight o'clock; his earlier anger now tempered by the various drinks he had drunk while visiting all of his allocated pubs. It was not long before Swann and Rosie entered, followed shortly after by Bridges. Once again, they had returned without any information about the Scarred Man.

‘I am sorry for earlier, George,' said Swann, ‘but I wished to prove to you how good an actress Rosie is.'

George reluctantly accepted Swann's apology, but would not look Rosie in the eye.

‘I have an appointment at eight-thirty,' Swann announced. ‘I suggest you have a drink or two in my absence and I will be back here at nine,' he placed several coins in front of George. ‘No hard feelings I hope.' George looked at the coins and begrudgingly smiled at Swann.

Swann left the Fountain and made his way up to the East Gate, as he had done two nights previously. He reached his destination, only this time approaching it from the direction of the river. He hid in the shadows and waited. Ten minutes had elapsed since the time of their agreed meeting and it looked to Swann as if he had been double-crossed by Lockhart. He was not coming. Swann began to walk away, disappointed, when a voice whispered from the shadows.

‘Swann, it is me, Edmund.'

‘Lockhart?'

‘I could not afford to be seen in your presence, even if you are in disguise, so I have taken precautions myself. That is why I am late.'

‘Do you have the letters?'

‘Yes, here they are.' Lockhart reached into his clothing and retrieved a packet of letters, tied with a piece of ribbon. ‘They were not easy to obtain,' he said. ‘I had to wait until Kirby left his office. When he finds out they're gone, I do not know what he will do.'

Swann took the letters and secured them within his pocket.

‘I thank you for these Edmund and appreciate what you have risked for them. If anything happens to me tomorrow, promise me you will take good care of Mary. I may not have been in agreement with the wedding, but if I am to die, then at least I can do so knowing of your promise.'

‘Of course, I promise,' said Lockhart.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before Swann turned and began to walk away. Lockhart went after him and caught his arm.

‘Swann, tomorrow morning, when you fire first, do not aim for Kirby's heart.'

‘What?'

‘He is to wear a type of jacket that will stop your bullet, if fired there,' Lockhart said. ‘If you wish to kill him, you must aim for his head. He intends to kill you, and will not miss.'

‘Why are you telling me this?'

‘Perhaps with Kirby dead, I can be free of all this,' replied Lockhart, more to himself.

‘Free of what?'

‘It is of no matter. Now I go back to Kirby's office to await his return.'

‘Where is he now?' Swann enquired.

‘He received a message from Wicks, about an hour ago. His London connection is here and he wanted Kirby to meet him.'

‘What!' exclaimed Swann. ‘Where are they to meet?'

‘I do not know; possibly the Duke of York. Is it important?'

Swann did not answer as he had already turned and was running back toward the Avon Street district.

Bath, Saturday 31st March, 1804

I feel my faith is lost, my belief shattered. I now possess the truth I sought and it makes me sick. Mrs Hunter told me that despite his weakness for gambling and collusion with the burglars to pay off his debts, my father was a good man and, before losing his money, always made certain I was provided for first. But then she was not there the times my stomach was painfully tight from hunger because he had gambled our money away on one game of chance or another and had nothing left to buy food; my father finding a new excuse each time as to why he had lost.

Is this to be my last entry? Tomorrow is the duel with Kirby and I feel I have been trapped into taking part. I cannot let Fitzpatrick fight for me, yet I do not want to die. I have written a letter to Mary. At least she is to be married, even if it is to a man I do not trust. I surely cannot leave it like this.