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Authors: David Lassman

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BOOK: The Regency Detective
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Mary thanked Mrs Austen for her thoughtfulness and agreed it would be most welcome for her and Jane to visit after they had returned, whenever that may be.

She finished the first letter and then turned to the second, which she felt a growing excitement to write. She took a new sheet of paper and began.

Thursday 20th October, 1803

Dearest Aunt Harriet

I write this letter to you late at night, still exhilarated following the evening’s talk. I never knew anyone of our gender could speak with such elegance, fluidity and clarity of mind and express thoughts that I realise I have had all my life but never dared express them to myself, let alone share them in public.

In regard to our brief conversation after the talk and the mentioning of my brother’s proposal I should accompany him back to London, I have news regarding your suggestion I do this and become your ‘eyes and ears’ there. Jack was still awake on my return and whereas before he was adamant of returning to London as soon as possible, he has now decided to stay on in Bath for the foreseeable future.

The move to London has therefore been postponed for the time being and I shall await your instruction as to how I can best be of assistance to the cause here in Bath.

Your most appreciative niece

Mary Gardiner

Meanwhile, Swann had retired to his bedroom to complete his journal.

Swann sat in the wooden chair, beside the table he had especially brought up to the bedroom from downstairs for the very purpose and opened his journal. He paused for a moment to compose his thoughts, which had been racing all evening and were still doing so, and then began to record the dramatic news he had learnt earlier that evening. The words flowed out of him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Bath, Thursday
20
th October, 1803

It is hard to believe that it was only yesterday that I recorded in this very journal my incredulity at the series of events which had occurred since my arrival in Bath, and yet those of today have surpassed even them.

The Malone I have been searching for all these years is indeed not dead, at least not by the hand of Wicks. The man who was murdered earlier this week is, in fact, Thomas Malone, who I know now from Rosie to have been the twin brother of the man I seek, which is why the description I had of him initially matched that of the other man.

Thomas Malone did, indeed, leave Ireland for England in
1787
, apparently having fallen foul of the Rightboys, a secret reformist organisation who sought to bring about certain changes to Irish society through whatever means necessary, to which this particular Malone had refused to join. His brother, Sean, the man I seek, however, had already left Ireland four years earlier. This was 1783, the year my father was murdered, which means Malone had not been long in the country when he committed the crime. Whether Thomas Malone came straight to Bath or initially went to London to join his brother there, I believe, is now irrelevant.

As to the present whereabouts of Sean Malone, I do not know. He could still be in London, although with the connection between the Malone family and Bath established, coupled with the sighting of the Scarred Man, the man I have decided to call Malone’s accomplice, I have decided my search must remain in this city until such time as it takes me elsewhere.

I do hear Mary’s words echoing in my mind though regarding the Scarred Man. ‘Are you sure it was him?’ But I know it was. I could not bring forth evidence in a court of law to support my case, but I know it to be true. The only ‘evidence’ I can go on is my instinct and this tells me it was him. I felt his presence as he passed me on the street, as surely as if it was Malone himself, and the same way I felt at the fair, when I was sixteen, and believed I was in the presence of Malone.

The mixed emotions I have experienced today have left my mind in turmoil. I began the day supposing Malone to be alive, only then to believe midway through that he was, in fact, dead by another’s hand. I now realise these latter emotions to have been unfounded, yet nevertheless they have proved to be most revelatory. When I thought my quest at an end, but not through my own labours, I did not feel justice had been served. This has led me to realise that I will not be satisfied unless I administer the final blow to end Malone’s life myself, in the way he did to end my father’s, and see him die before my own eyes.

My thoughts return to the Scarred Man. If I am sure that it was him, then what is he doing in the city and does he know the where-abouts of the man I seek? I cannot believe it is mere coincidence that he is here and so I feel I will only find out the truth by questioning him to find out what he knows of Malone.

At the same time as continuing the search for Malone, through the Scarred Man, I will attempt to diminish Wicks’ criminal activities in the city and also endeavour to discover Lockhart’s secret, for I know he has one. Finally, I will do all in my power to protect Mary from what I see as her aunt’s dangerous influence.

I aim to visit Fitzpatrick tomorrow and inform him of my decision to stay and take the opportunity to ask him if he can acquire rooms from where I can conduct my investigations, as I do not want a repetition of last evening and the broken window. Given my decision to stay on in the city, I will also attempt to acquire the services of George and Bridges.

I do not know what the coming period has in store for me, but I relish it and will rise to any challenge that may befall me. Meantime, however, it is now time for bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The art of deceitfulness came easy to Richard J. Kirby. From a very early age he realised one could literally get away with murder through knowing the ‘right’ people. He had become a magistrate for his own gain after his arrival in Bath, and it had not taken long to form his ‘understanding’ with Thomas Malone. He had acquired all the trappings that went with being a successful ‘businessman’, including an office in the King’s Circus, membership of several exclusive men’s clubs and all the other perks that came with his connection to Malone. But loyalty, for Kirby, only lasted as long as the situation was agreeable to him, and on learning from an associate in London that Malone’s time controlling Bath was coming to an end, he had switched allegiance to the man rumoured to be his successor: Wicks.

Kirby was about to leave for the next court session in the Guildhall when Wicks appeared at the door to his chambers.

‘What are you doing here? I told you never to be seen at my chambers.’

‘You better watch your attitude, Kirby,’ growled Wicks, ‘I own this city and I own you, and don’t ever forget it.’

Kirby realised it was not the time or place to argue, so he capitulated.

‘So to what do I owe this pleasure?’

‘I’ve come to give you some good news. The scheme involving Bristol worked well and our associates in London are pleased. They have given their permission for it to run as often as we think necessary. You can also use your man again.’

‘Good,’ said Kirby. ‘I’ll let him know.’ He picked up a file and said, ‘I heard about Evans.’

‘Yes,’ replied Wicks, ‘he won’t be troubling us any more. Have you been given charge of the investigation?’

‘No, Fitzpatrick has been but I will convince him I should take over. I assume it was Tyler who killed Evans?’

‘It doesn’t matter who it was, just make sure the murder remains unsolved.’

‘There is bound to be outrage over his death, most likely from the
Chronicle
, as Evans had some standing in the city, but you can count on me,’ assured Kirby.

Wicks nodded his approval and his manner relaxed slightly.

‘I have a new girl, you’ll like her,’ said Wicks. ‘She’s just your type.’

Kirby smiled licentiously. ‘I’ll pay a visit tonight, then. So when are we to run the scheme again?’

‘I’ll let you know. But this could be worth a lot of money. Are you sure you can trust your man?’

‘Absolutely. Lockhart is also the one meeting that trouble-maker, as you wanted.’

‘Does he know the real reason for the meeting?’ enquired Wicks.

‘No. I merely convinced him it would be a good idea. He is interested in the troublemaker’s sister but he mentioned that there has been a misunderstanding between them. I advised him to arrange the meeting to clear it up.’

‘What exactly is he going to tell him?’ asked Wicks, slightly concerned.

‘Nothing approximating the truth, that is for certain,’ replied Kirby.

Both men laughed.

‘Right, I am due in session in five minutes.’

The two men then left, each in their own way considering how they could get rid of the other once they had outlived their usefulness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Swann went out of the main door of the house in Great Pulteney Street, the house he would now be staying on in for as long as it took to track down the Scarred Man, and began his journey to Queen Square. He was on his way to Fitzpatrick’s office to tell the magistrate of his decision to stay longer in Bath, one he knew Fitzpatrick would be happy to hear, especially as Swann intended to offer his services while he was carrying on his own investigation. The air was fresh and it was a glorious autumn morning as he passed Argyle Street and then crossed Pulteney Bridge into the city centre.

At one time, the only way across the river between the centre and the east side was by the Whitehall Ferry, a boat service manned by ferrymen who would ‘punt’ passengers across the small stretch of water for a fixed fee. Although not to everyone’s taste as a desired mode of transport, it was a much quicker route to Spring Gardens, the usual destination for those using the ferry, than crossing the river at the Old Bridge, south of the city, and coming back around Widcombe to the pleasure gardens that way.

In the late 1760s, however, the Bath Corporation gave its permission for the landowner William Pulteney to construct a bridge. This new structure was to be a key element in the Pulteney family’s plans to develop their land east of the river and so they commissioned architect Robert Adam, a former Architect Royal, to design it. He based what would become the narrow Palladian structure on the famous Venetian Rialto Bridge, but uniquely added shops on either side. It took several years to build but when it was finally finished in 1775, Pulteney Bridge linked the old centre with the new residential areas being developed on the Bathwick Estate and elsewhere, such as Argyle Street, Laura Place and Great Pulteney Street, along with Sydney Gardens and Sydney Place.

It did not go completely to plan though, as the builder undertaking the work was financially ruined by his involvement and only a couple of years previously, where Swann now stood on the bridge, signs of subsidence had closed it while its western side was reinforced and a wooden bridge temporarily constructed to allow continued access eastwards while this repair work was carried out.

On arriving at Fitzpatrick’s office, he found him engaged in conversation with one of his men. As soon as he became aware of Swann’s presence, the magistrate dismissed the other man and gestured for Swann to sit down.

‘I have this morning been informed of terrible news,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘Mr Evans, the shopkeepers’ representative and the man you met briefly in this very office yesterday, was murdered last night near the Guildhall.’

‘Were there any witnesses?’ asked Swann.

‘As usual, nobody saw anything. This is the kind of case that could use a man of your quality,’ said Fitzpatrick.

‘Well,’ said Swann, ‘you will be pleased to hear that I have decided to stay on in Bath for the time being and therefore offer my assistance in this matter.’

Fitzpatrick’s expression turned to one of great relief.

‘That is most agreeable news,’ said Fitzpatrick, ‘and goes a little way towards off-setting the sad news about Mr Evans.’

‘Are there any more details surrounding the murder?’

‘No,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘His body was discovered at first light, so it could have happened any time before that. I have dispatched a man to find out if Mr Evans was at the meeting last night, which unfortunately I could not attend.’

Swann felt it not right to mention anything to Fitzpatrick at the present time, but he was already in possession of certain facts, he believed. Given the presence of Tyler by the White Hart, at the same time Evans was walking up Westgate Street, it could only be assumed that the pickpocket had been waiting to take revenge on Evans over his prosecution a few days earlier. If Evans had indeed failed to appear at the meeting as well, it would seem almost to be beyond doubt that it was Tyler who had murdered the shopkeeper.

‘So may I enquire as to your change of heart?’ asked Fitzpatrick.

‘There are a number of reasons but the main one is that I believe Bath is the best place to continue my investigation to find the man I told you murdered my father.’

‘Ah, Malone,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘The man you enquired after at the funeral.’

‘Yes, the Malone I believed to be him was his brother, his twin in fact. But the connection with the city has been made and there is another man who I believe still to be here that may help me in this search.’

‘Very good,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.’

‘I would be grateful if you could secure some rooms for me to conduct my business. Near to your offices would be satisfactory, if you could do so.’

‘Consider them secured,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘In the meanwhile, to celebrate your decision to stay on in Bath, I wish to invite you and Mary for dinner at my house this evening. Shall we say around half past seven?’

‘That would be most agreeable,’ replied Swann. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have another matter to attend.’

The two men bowed to each other and Swann left the office. He came back out into Queen Square and headed for the same corner by which he had entered it, the south-east, and then made his way to an appointment off Wood Street.

Earlier that morning Lockhart’s business card had arrived at Great Pulteney Street. Accompanying it was a note for Swann that read:
Please meet me at ten forty-five this morning at Gould’s coffee-house.

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