TWENTY‑FIVE

Elizabeth Malvern must have seen him coming up the mews because even before he had knocked on the front door, it swung open and she was standing in the hall to greet him. She was wearing the same dress as before but this time her hair was down, framing her slim, oval face and cascading down her back almost as far as her waist.

‘I want the truth this time, ’ Pyke said, trying to reconcile his desire for her smooth, tanned skin with his lingering urge to destroy anything in his path.

‘The truth about what? ’ She regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement.

‘You and Jemmy Crane. ’

Pyke saw at once that the name had registered in her expression. ‘Jeremy used to be part of my circle of friends until I got to know him better and discovered how he makes his money. ’

‘I know you were Crane’s mistress: maybe you still are. ’ Elizabeth pulled some hair away from her face and frowned. ‘Why would anybody say that? ’

‘So it isn’t true? ’

She stared at him with something approaching anger. ‘ No, of course it isn’t true. ’

Their eyes locked and, in the end, Pyke had to look away first.

‘Are you going to let me know who told you this lie? ’

‘Harold Field. ’

She looked blankly at him. ‘I don’t know him. ’

‘He owns a slaughterhouse in Smithfield together with a dozen ginneries and taverns and half of the gaming clubs in the city. ’

‘And you imagine that’s the kind of company I keep? ’ But some of her indignation had started to abate. ‘Why is this man insisting I’m Crane’s mistress? ’

‘I don’t know. ’

‘Do you believe him? ’

‘I don’t know what to believe. ’

‘Do you believe me? ’

Pyke didn’t answer.

‘I don’t have to justify myself to him, or to you, ’ Elizabeth said, eventually. ‘I haven’t seen Crane in more than a year. That’s the God’s honest truth. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you. ’

‘What about Arthur Sobers? ’

That drew a different reaction, one of concern rather than irritation. ‘What happened at the trial? ’

‘Why do you care what happened? ’ Pyke studied her reaction. He could smell his own sweat, a reminder of his recent rampage through Crane’s shop.

‘What is this, Pyke? Why the inquisition? You know about my family’s interest in the murder and the investigation. It’s not a secret. I just asked whether the jury had delivered their verdict. ’

‘They didn’t need to. He pleaded guilty. ’

For a moment this news seemed to jolt her but she quickly recovered her composure.

‘You knew him, didn’t you? That’s why he was arrested near by. He’d come to visit you, hadn’t he? ’

She absorbed the heat of his gaze and waited for a moment. ‘I’ve no idea what he was doing in this street and I’ve never even laid eyes on the man. ’

‘You’re not sorry he’s going to hang, then? ’

‘If he killed her, then no, I’m not. ’

Pyke studied her expression. ‘I saw your father outside the Sessions House. He seemed pleased by the verdict, too. ’

‘Who said I was pleased? The man pleaded guilty. Surely it’s just a matter of justice being served? ’

Pyke took a breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He’d intended to confront her and force the truth out of her but now she was calm and he was floundering.

‘I should go, ’ he said.

‘But you’ve just got here, ’ she replied, puzzled.

‘I’ve had a long day. ’

She gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Look, I won’t offer to cook for you but I can put a glass into your hand. ’

Pyke was exhausted but in truth he didn’t have anywhere else to go. If he went home, the police might be waiting for him. Briefly, he wondered whether the fire had spread beyond Crane’s shop and what kind of damage had been caused.

‘Maybe just a quick drink. ’

Elizabeth’s eyes were sparkling as she led him into the house.

They sat opposite one another at her kitchen table. It was an informal arrangement, the kind he might have enjoyed with an old friend, but with her, the informality seemed contrived, as if it had been conjured solely to elicit his approval. She seemed to want him to like her, and if he was honest he found himself thinking about her more and more. But he couldn’t get away from the fact that she was somehow involved in the matter he was investigating and, as such, he had to be cautious.

‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Terrible things have happened in these last few months but I’ve been happier here, on my own, than I would have been enjoying the delights of the Season. ’

Pyke nodded, trying to appear genial. ‘I’d rather swallow a razor blade than listen to the inbred fools and their dull‑ witted wives chatter about the wonders of opera. ’

Her laugh was throaty and, he felt, a little dirty. ‘It’s the women I detest more than the men. Often their opinions simply parrot their husbands’. ’

‘The blind leading the blind. ’

She looked at him, perhaps surprised by his reference to blindness. ‘You’re different, Pyke. You don’t seem afraid…’

‘Afraid of what? ’

‘Saying what’s on your mind, doing things, getting things done. ’ Her gaze seemed to take in his whole body. ‘There’s nothing predictable about you. ’

‘I could say the same thing about you. ’

Elizabeth held his eyes. ‘But I can see you still don’t trust me. ’

‘Or you me. ’

‘Why wouldn’t I trust you? ’

‘Because you think the only reason I’m here is to ask you more questions about your family. ’

‘I don’t think that’s the only reason you’re here. ’

Pyke felt his stomach tighten and knew he had to change the subject. ‘Tell me about your interest in daguerreotypes. ’

‘Ah, back to the interrogation. ’ Her smile was sly and warm. ‘In that case I’m going to need a drop of something to loosen my tongue. ’ In the pantry, she dug out a bottle and put it down on the table, together with two glasses. ‘The drink I promised you. Rum from Jamaica. I have it shipped to me. ’

‘Kill‑ devil. ’

This made her look up. She filled both glasses to the brim and handed one of them to Pyke. ‘I haven’t heard it called that for a while. ’

‘You don’t take yours with water? ’

Elizabeth picked up the glass and poured the rum down her throat. It didn’t seem to affect her. ‘Tell me about your time in Jamaica. ’

‘What do you want to know? ’

‘What were your impressions of the place? Where did you go? Who did you meet? ’

Pyke took a sip of rum; it tasted smoother and sweeter than the spirit he’d drunk in Jamaica. ‘I thought I was the one questioning you. ’ Ignoring his better judgement, he followed suit and downed what was in his glass in a single gulp.

She gave him a crooked smile and refilled their glasses.

For the next half an hour, they talked about Jamaica. Pyke kept his descriptions vague and didn’t mention any names unless they were attached to Ginger Hill. For the most part, Elizabeth listened intently and filled their glasses when they were empty. Pyke was careful about what he said about her brother and, for some reason, she didn’t press him for further information. She seemed more interested in what he’d done in Falmouth, and when he mentioned he’d ventured into the middle of the island, she wanted to know why and where he’d gone. He gave evasive answers and eventually her interest began to wane.

‘But did you like it? ’ It wasn’t the first time she’d asked the question.

‘Yes, I suppose I did. It was much more beautiful than I’d imagined. ’

‘Dangerous, too. ’ She brushed a lash from her eye. ‘You must have been frightened for your life during the storm. ’

‘I suppose so. ’ Pyke tried to remember what he’d felt that night but couldn’t put it into words.

‘I was thinking about what happened to my brother and I can’t help feeling that something is amiss. He would never have taken shelter in that part of the house. In the old days, if a storm hit, we would take refuge in the counting house or even the dungeon. ’

‘I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t privy to his decision. ’

Elizabeth nodded, but seemed dissatisfied with the answer. ‘But they’re sure he died as a result of the storm? ’

‘As far as I know. I mean, why wouldn’t they be? ’

‘I don’t know. I’d hate to think foul play was involved, but he had written to me recently and told me how fractious the atmosphere at Ginger Hill had become. ’

‘No, I’m certain your brother’s death was a consequence of the storm. ’

This seemed to settle her. She fiddled with her empty glass. ‘It still doesn’t explain why you went all that way just to find out what happened to Mary. ’ She added, with a shrug, ‘I hope you don’t mind me prying. I’m just trying to understand you a little better. ’

‘Why do you want to understand me better? ’

Neither of them spoke for a few moments. ‘You don’t think this man, Arthur Sobers, killed her, do you? ’ she said, trying to read his thoughts.

‘Honestly? No, I don’t. ’

‘Then why did he plead guilty? ’

Pyke stared into her dark eyes and noticed tiny yellow flecks spotted around her irises. ‘I think he’s trying to shoulder the blame for someone else. But I don’t know why. ’

‘Really? ’ She didn’t flinch or turn away. ‘Why would he do that? ’

‘Love, misplaced loyalty, who knows? ’

She let his words linger between them for a few moments. ‘But what are you hoping to gain by finding the man who really killed her? ’

‘Who said it was a man? ’

She reached for the rum bottle and again refilled both of their glasses. ‘You didn’t answer my question, ’ she said, taking a sip of the rum.

‘Are you asking me why I care about Mary’s death? ’

Elizabeth just nodded.

‘It’s a job I agreed to do. I like to see things through to the end. ’

‘That’s it? ’

‘You think I should just let her rot in an unmarked grave? ’

She shook her head and gave him a solemn look. ‘Honestly, I think what you’re doing is entirely to your credit. ’ It was a bland statement, in a way, but when he looked at her, there were tears in her eyes.

She reached out across the table and squeezed his hand. He let it linger there for longer than he should have. All the rum he’d drunk had left him light headed. Elizabeth, on the other hand, seemed almost sober.

‘A while ago, I asked about daguerreotypes, ’ he said, noticing the way the curve of her neck accentuated the shape of her chin.

‘Ah, back to the questions…’ She withdrew her hand and offered him a good‑ natured smile.

‘You don’t mind? ’

She shrugged. ‘If I’m honest, I quite like the fact that you’re interested in me. I’ve been so starved of human company…’

‘Daguerreotypes. ’ In Jamaica, Charles Malvern had told Pyke that his interest in the new medium had been fired by his sister.

‘It’s a pastime. Other women like to press flowers. ’

‘But how did you first develop an interest in it? ’

‘I read about it in the newspaper. It sounded interesting. ’ Absent‑ mindedly, she coiled a loose strand of hair around her finger. ‘I’m not the spoiled, stupid planter’s daughter you think I am. ’

‘Who said I thought that? ’ Pyke took out the copperplate of Bessie Daniels and pushed it across the table. He needed to steer their conversation back towards more neutral matters. ‘I don’t know what your dealings with Crane are but he’s learned about daguerreotypes from someone – for some reason I suspected it might be you. While you might just take pictures of flowers and plants, you’ll see he’s been quick to exploit the medium for his own ends. ’

She studied the image, then pushed it back across the table. The disgusted look on her face seemed genuine. ‘You think I taught him how to do that? ’

‘I do. ’ Pyke waited.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘God, whatever must you think of me? ’

Refusing to be sidetracked, Pyke added, ‘Her name’s Bessie Daniels. A brothel madam called Eliza Craddock sold her to Crane for five guineas. ’ He took the daguerreotype and put it back into his coat pocket.

‘Is she…’ Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

‘Is she dead? ’ Pyke saw her pupils dilate slightly. ‘I don’t know. ’ He wanted to be angry at her – at anyone – but somehow he couldn’t quite manage it.

‘I’m sorry I ever met him. ’

Suddenly she looked exhausted, but Pyke wasn’t quite finished with his questions. ‘And Samuel Ticknor? ’

‘I don’t think I know him. ’ She smiled apologetically. ‘Should I? ’

‘He’s an agent for the Vice Society. ’

‘I’m still not sure, ’ she said, her brow furrowed in thought.

‘It’s not a trick question, ’ Pyke said, allowing his frustration to show. ‘Either you know him or you don’t. ’

‘I haven’t been into the field for more than a year and I’m afraid that my memory for names isn’t good. Perhaps I might recognise him. ’ Her expression seemed so sincere that he was disarmed.

‘Do you remember meeting a woman called Lucy Luckins? ’

‘No. Who is she? ’

‘Just another girl fallen on hard times. ’ For some reason, Pyke didn’t want to tell her that Lucy was also dead.

‘I might know her. But then again I might not. ’ She shrugged apologetically. ‘I meet so many people from all walks of life…’

‘But none you actually like? ’ he asked, softening a little. He was beginning to sense her weariness and frustration.

‘But none I actually like, ’ she said, repeating his line and smiling. ‘Or almost none. ’ This time she looked directly into his eyes. ‘You didn’t come here only to ask me questions, did you? ’ She finished her rum and waited for Pyke to do likewise.

They were sitting across the table from one another so she couldn’t see his erection. She’d answered his questions with patience and humour but he also knew that that didn’t mean she’d told the truth.

‘You’re not married, are you? ’ she asked suddenly.

‘My wife died five years ago. ’ For some reason Pyke wanted her to know this; wanted her to know the truth. In part, it felt as if they’d both been playing a game, toying with each other, and that this was the first honest thing he’d said.

‘I’m sorry. ’ She bit her lip. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. ’

The warmth from the rum had spread to his stomach. ‘I’m glad you did. ’ Tentatively he put his hand out across the table.

She reached across the table and their fingers brushed together. Was he still trying to elicit information from her? To expose her as a liar? In an instant the game had changed and suddenly he was unsure of himself.

‘Pyke? ’ Elizabeth stared at him, clear eyed, absolutely serious.

‘Yes? ’ The word seemed to get stuck in his throat.

Their fingers coiled together. He squeezed. She squeezed. The candle that had been glowing on the table next to them flickered and then burned out. He heard her chair move and felt her pull his hand towards her. Standing, he groped for her face, touching her nose, her lips, her eyes, her hair, their mouths meeting somewhere over the middle of the table, lips, tongues, teeth urgently seeking their counterpart, each touch, each messy kiss, firing rather than satiating his need, until all he could do was climb up on to the table and pull her under him. But she seemed just as hungry as him, more so if that were possible, and she wasn’t going to be dictated to; she wouldn’t let him rip off her dress, and whenever his hands ventured near her back, she grunted slightly and shooed him away. Still, as she guided him into her, Pyke was too far gone to tell whether her sudden gasp was genuine or not; the intensity of the moment was almost too much for him to bear.

Later, after she had led him up to her bedroom and they had made love again, this time more slowly and somehow even more pleasurably, they lay there in silence. She was still wearing her dress and had just hitched up it while they made love, repelling all of his attempts to remove it.

‘Will you stay with me tonight? ’

Pyke closed his eyes, the guilt now beginning to wash over him. ‘I can’t. ’

Next to him her body hardly moved.

‘Are you angry with me, that I have to go? ’

To his surprise, she laughed. ‘You have your life, I have mine. ’

Her face looked so beautiful and guileless. ‘Elizabeth? ’

‘Yes, my darling? ’

Pyke wanted to say something about the evening, the sex, but he couldn’t find the right words. ‘Nothing. ’

But she squeezed his hand anyway and whispered, ‘I know. ’

He washed himself with soap and water at the basin in the kitchen and dressed quickly. When he returned to the bedroom, she hadn’t moved. He went over to the bed and kissed her on the mouth.

‘Will I see you again? ’ Elizabeth asked, as he prepared to leave. When he didn’t answer, she waited for a moment and added, ‘Whatever happens, don’t think badly of me. I don’t think I could bear it if you thought badly of me. ’

It was late, after eleven, by the time the hackney carriage dropped him outside his house and he found Jo waiting up for him in the front room.

‘Some policemen were here earlier. ’ She was wearing a white nightdress and a matching gown tied at the waist.

‘They say what they wanted? ’ He was wondering whether she could sense the guilt he was feeling.

‘Your friend, or he claimed to be your friend, told you to meet him tomorrow noon at Trafalgar Square, in front of the National Gallery. ’

‘Fitzroy Tilling? ’

‘That’s the name he gave. ’

They stood there for a while contemplating one another without speaking. Pyke could feel his perspiration.

‘Is this how it’s going to be? ’ Her arms were folded tight to her body and her face was hot with anger.

‘Is this how what’s going to be? ’

‘Us, you. ’ She took a step towards him and seemed to sense or smell something. ‘Where have you been, Pyke? ’

Pyke hesitated just a little too long. ‘I’ve been looking for a missing prostitute. ’

She stood there for a moment, not knowing whether to challenge him or not. Then she moved away and shook her head. ‘This isn’t going to work. ’

‘Look, it’s late and we’re both tired. Maybe we should talk in the morning. ’ Pyke tried to give her a hug but she saw it coming and backed away.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Pyke. In fact, I haven’t thought about much else since you returned from Jamaica. ’ She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. ‘Let me finish, please. If you don’t, I might never say what I need to say. ’ For a moment, he thought she might cry. ‘I’ll continue here until the end of this month, while I look for another position. But I can’t go on like this, not knowing what you feel for me, if it’s anything more than gratitude; wondering what my place is in this house, and worrying about my future and whether I have one. ’

Pyke felt a sharp stab of shame and thought about all his declarations of intent to her – and how by making them, by articulating what he thought they both wanted, he’d actually believed he could will a life for them both into existence.

‘I don’t know what to say, Jo. Is there any way you could be persuaded to change your mind? ’ He tried to imagine life without her but couldn’t.

‘That’s just the problem, Pyke. You don’t know what to say because you don’t know what you want. ’

‘Tell me what to say and I’ll say it. For my sake and for Felix’s sake. Please, Jo, I’m begging you. I’ll get down on my hands and knees if I have to. Stay until the New Year and make a decision then. If we can make it until January, maybe we do have a future. ’

‘As nursemaid to your child or mistress in your bed? ’

The bluntness of her question took him by surprise and Pyke didn’t have an immediate answer.

‘For me, it’s simple, ’ she said. ‘Unfortunately, I’m in love with you. I probably have been for a long, long time, but I’ve never dared to acknowledge it even to myself. But what happened between us before you left for Jamaica unleashed those feelings in a way I couldn’t have expected. ’ She paused and her eyes filled with tears. ‘These past few months have been the most unhappy, the most miserable, of my life, and I just can’t do it any more. I can’t just put my feelings back into a box and pretend they don’t exist. ’

Guilt, shame, affection, respect. Pyke felt all those things. He wanted to take Jo in his arms and tell her that he loved her; wipe away her tears and convince her that they had a future together. He wanted to do it for Felix’s sake, of course, but also for his own. For he knew that a part of him wanted the things that she could give him: a happy, stable domestic life. But he could still feel the taste of Elizabeth Malvern’s tongue in his mouth and recall the way it had made him feel, and he knew that in time he would hurt Jo more than he already had, and that he would keep on hurting her.

‘I’m sorry, I really am sorry. ’

That riled her. ‘What exactly are you sorry about? ’

He thought about Emily; how he’d been more or less faithful to her throughout their time together. ‘That I don’t love you in the same way. ’

Perhaps Jo had been expecting it; perhaps she’d even been trying to provoke him into admitting it. But the baldness of his confession still made her gasp. She stared at him, her eyes wide open, trying to make sense of what he’d just said, before wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dress and smiling. ‘Thank you, ’ she said quietly.

‘For what? ’ It would have been hard for Pyke to hate himself any more than he did at that moment.

‘For finally being honest with me. ’ As her eyes started to fill up again, she managed to say, ‘Could you leave me alone now, please? ’