Authors: Peter Townsend
“I killed it.”
Jasper chuckled. “The chief constable killed the Chief Constable!”
“I don’t want one of these dangerous snakes getting out of the tank and killing anyone else,” said Tanner.
Percy gulped. “I thought a bash on the head killed him.”
Tanner looked at the snakes wriggling in their tanks. “That will be in the official report, unless the post-mortem tomorrow afternoon can establish proof that he died from a snake bite. What about the snakes in the tanks? …Black Death…Doom Viper?”
Alan darted forward and opened the sliding panel of The Black Death snake and placed it in his hands. It wriggled on his wrist and went under his sleeve. He grinned. “It’s harmless.” He screwed up his eyes. “It’s bitten me! I’m as good as dead now!” Alan collapsed theatrically to the floor and Jasper and Uriah started laughing. Alan stood, removed the snake from under his sleeve, and put it back in the tank.
“The snakes are all harmless,” said Percy. He reached into the Doom Viper tank and brought out the black snake. It trembled in his hands. “It’s an American Kingsnake and totally harmless. Hood said it should be dead very soon now; it’s got the shakes. Do you want me to put my hands in the other tanks?”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
Percy returned the Doom Viper to its tank.
“Do any of you know anything about the theft from the Foster Museum in York? Did Hood say anything about it?”
“No,” said Percy. The other men in the room shook their heads.
“I’ll need to search the house, Percy. You can continue your wake while we do.”
Percy watched as the officers went into the kitchen. He continued drinking along with the other men, hardly bothering to pause when the police officers returned to search in the room before going upstairs. Percy could hear the officers banging their boots on the floorboards in the bedroom, looking for any hidden or stolen goods. Then he heard more muted sounds. They were in the attic. But Percy didn’t relax, even when the officers came into the living room several minutes later empty-handed.
Tanner tugged at his chin strap. “I was searching for several items from the museum that would be difficult to easily hide in a house. They’re obviously not here.”
Percy relaxed.
Tanner beckoned Alan over. He came forward hesitantly.
“Let me have the two pewter tankards, and I’ll return them to The Queens’s Head. I’ll tell them that an anonymous, but fine, upstanding member of the community found them and handed them in.”
Dumbfounded, Alan quickly put the bag containing the two tankards in the chief constable’s hands.
Tanner smiled. “I’ll leave you gentlemen in peace now. Please be assured that I will do my very best to find out who murdered Hood.”
The men looked at one another in a bemused silence after Tanner had left with the young officer. Jasper raised his eyebrows and then took a gulp of beer. The drinking resumed.
Percy slipped away and rushed to the attic. He reached for an old table, covered in dust and placed it under one of the thick, blackened roof beams. Next, he grabbed a stool to put on top of the table. Percy climbed the structure and reached up until he was able to grab the beam. He grunted as he stretched to poke into the hollows on the top that had been carved out fifteen years earlier. Percy smiled when he touched the cool surface of a row of bottles. He moved the table and the stool several times as he went from one end of the beam to the other. All the whisky bottles were there and the sixty pounds in notes. Percy stuffed the money in his two pockets and returned downstairs.
Jasper looked squarely at Percy. “Alan thinks Tanner’s a smashing bloke.”
Alan folded his arms. “I didn’t say that Scalp-Head.”
“You did,” added Graham who had woken up from his stupor.
“I didn’t say that! All I said was that he wasn’t that bad.” Alan grinned and pointed to his chest. “He said I was a fine, upstanding member of the community.”
“Tanner is still a bastard,” grumbled Percy. “He’s done you a favour, Alan. He’ll want something in return.”
Jasper stroked his chin. “Percy’s right. It’s clever copper tactics.”
Graham adjusted his eye patch. “Even a mate having a drink and a laugh could turn out to be a copper’s nark.”
Uriah chuckled. “They’ll find your chopped-up body in river.”
“Tanner is a bastard, and so are you lot,” Alan shouted.
“At least Tanner’s not a miserable, stinking rat like you,” sniggered Uriah.
“Alan’s the only bloke in Whitby
never
to have the decency to get a round in,” added Jasper.”
Percy was on the point of shouting at the men when he put his hands in his pockets and touched the silky surface of the pound notes. His irritation instantly faded. Besides, they had an important and difficult mission to fulfil later that night. “Do you think you’ll be able to climb into the mortuary and let us in, Uriah?”
“It’ll be dead easy,” the tiny man scoffed.
Percy nodded. “We’ll all meet at the mortuary at two in the morning. We’ll hide Hood’s body, and then give him his Viking funeral tomorrow afternoon around six.”
Chapter 35
Saturday 15
th
September 1894
D
AVID
STOOD
WITH
HIS
HANDS
ON
THE
RAILINGS
at the side of the swing bridge, waiting for Lucy to arrive. He looked down at the waters deep in thought, still angry with John for taking a photograph of Daniel Milner with the Tate camera.
David heard a familiar tapping sound behind him. It grew louder in volume as it advanced. He closed his eyes in terror and froze. He couldn’t even turn around. Then, the tapping sound stopped, and he thought he felt the point of the cane pressing between his shoulder blades, harder and harder. He groaned in pain.
He now bent heavily over the railings. There was a fifteen-foot drop to the murky waters. David tightened his grip, but his fingers began to slide on the smooth metal. The relentless pressure on his back showed no sign of abating.
“Stop it!” he shouted. The pressure of the cane suddenly ceased.
David pulled himself up and turned around to see Percy clutching Hood’s cane, and staring down on him from a lofty height was a grim-faced Toby. He was tugging hard at Percy’s bushy beard.
“Ouch!” he cried as the cane slipped from his grasp to the ground.
“Why were you trying to push David over the side?” asked Toby, easing his grip on Percy. He grinned and brushed his beard.
“I was just teasing the lad. Amusing meself, that’s all.” He picked up the cane from the ground. “The coppers have given me Hood’s cane.”
David glared at Percy. “I’m finished with spirit photography, so don’t think I’m going to work for you.”
Percy stroked the cane fondly, twisted the handle, and revealed a few inches of the sword. David swallowed. “You have nothing to fear from me,” teased the old man, snapping the ivory case back over the sword. “The sword and its rightful master are going for a little sea journey later this afternoon.”
Percy tapped the cane sharply on the ground and walked away, whistling. Toby frowned at the retreating figure of Percy and said, “There is a rumour going round that Hood is to have a Viking funeral.”
David turned to Toby. “I was lucky you were passing.”
“I wasn’t. Lucy asked me to meet her here.”
David had been looking forward to having Lucy’s exclusive company this afternoon. He was going to ask why Lucy had asked him to be here, but Toby spoke first.
“Ominous trouble is brewing in Whitby, and you and the Tate camera have to take some blame for it. Do you know what you should do?”
“No.” David sighed. “What should I do?”
“People do not need to be convinced there is an afterlife by seeing a bright flash of light on a photograph. Nor that they see strange marks or a noose. This is wrong, and it is very dangerous.” Toby expanded his arms to indicate the world around him. “Look around us. See the sky, the sea, folk that are passing us. This is God’s work. We do not need any further proof…Destroy the camera.”
“How can I do this when it was a birthday present given to me by Mr and Mrs Jenkins?” pleaded David. “Photography is my livelihood.”
“A police officer told me about the tragedy concerning Thomas Loach. He was hoping to see his girlfriend on his photograph, but the devil’s hand was at work. He saw the image of his abusive father.”
“But I didn’t fake the image. The Tate camera has genuine psychic ability.”
“Whether it is the actions of mediums, the Ouija board, or the Tate camera—it is all Satan’s work. We should not meddle in these affairs—”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” interrupted Lucy, startling both men. She linked her arm with David’s and he could feel her trembling. “An informer has told me a mob plans to attack Melvin Shank, Gordon Deakin, Ben Updike, and Silas this afternoon for being murder suspects.”
“We need to alert the police,” said David
“That would only increase the anger of the mob even further.”
“Lucy’s right,” said Toby. “In any event, there are insufficient police numbers to deal with a lynch mob.”
“Does your editor know what you’re doing?” asked David.
“No. I wanted this to be a scoop for me over the male crime reporters.” Lucy turned to Toby. “Shank and Deakin are more than able to fend for themselves. Could you go and warn Ben while we go over and warn Silas?”
“You could be putting yourself in danger,” said David before Toby had a chance to reply.
“I have to do it, David.” Lucy removed her arm from his, sharply. “You don’t have to come along.”
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you go alone.” David reached for her hand, brought it up to his mouth, and lightly kissed it, proud of her courage and bravery. She looked at David and gave him a smile.
“The three of us will be united, and not divided,” said Toby forcefully. “The amusement arcade is closer. We shall warn Ben first then go to the House of Wonders and warn Silas.”
The trio quickly made their way to the amusement arcade. When they entered, Ben was sweeping the floor with a large brush that had nearly half the bristles missing. No customers were around. Ben looked up and saw them.
“Business is slack. Manager says he’ll have to let me go if trade doesn’t pick up.”
Toby tossed a bunch of keys to Ben, which he caught. “Listen, Ben. Go immediately to my house and hide there. A mob is on its way.”
Ben dropped the brush and threw the keys back to Toby. “They may find me there. I’ll hide on the moors. I just need to get my coat from the storeroom. ”
David, Lucy, and Toby waited while Ben went to get his coat when a loud crash made them turn around.
“Where’s Updike?”
A young man with an iron bar in his hands had burst into the amusement arcade. At least a dozen men waving sticks and knives followed in behind him.
“Come out, Ben!” one man carrying a stick shouted.
Toby lifted his hands for calm. “You need to go back to your wives and families!”
“We will, when we have Updike,” said an elegantly dressed man with a well-trimmed beard and moustache.
Lucy folded her arms defiantly. “He is not here. You’re Mr Joshua Betts, aren’t you?”
Joshua ignored the question. “He is not at home, and someone spotted him coming here less than an hour ago.”
Gilbert, the butcher, pushed his way through the men to speak on their behalf. “The police are useless! We have to do their job instead! Where is he?”
Toby shook his head slowly. “You cannot take the law into your own hands. You have to put your trust in the police.”
“You’re not our vicar now,” said Gilbert, his nostrils flaring in anger. “You once told us to put our trust in the Lord. Look at you—an insurance salesman. Where’s your faith in the Lord now?”
“I have struggled and lost my faith for a while. But, I urge you. Please return to your homes.”
“He’s stalling!” a man shouted. “Updike’s probably getting a head start on us!”
Joshua ran forward and raised a fist to Toby. From his lofty height, Toby looked down and effortlessly pushed the hand away. “Ben has fled. He will be long gone by now.”
“That proves he’s guilty,” shouted Gilbert.
“It proves he is a sensible fellow getting away from the insanity of the mob.”
“He will not escape,” said Joshua. “We will get a search party and some hounds to track him down after we have dealt with Silas.”
“Everyone! Go home!” Toby urged the mob.
“Silas would not harm anyone,” pleaded Lucy.
“I’ve been to the House of Wonders and know about his evil ways,” Joshua said. “The photograph showing the noose around his neck is solid proof for me that he’s a murderer.”
“The image of the noose is a fake,” said David.
“Liar! Everyone knows the Patrick Tate camera has special powers to tell who’s a murderer.”
“I’m telling you the truth. The photograph is a fake,” persisted David.
Joshua stamped his foot. “Enough of this! To the House of Wonders!” And with that, Joshua led the mob away.
“Stop this madness!” shouted Toby to no avail. He ran to the storeroom followed by David and Lucy. Inside, broken slot machines lay on the floor with two buckets and two mops. But there was no sign of Ben.
D
AVID
, L
UCY
,
AND
T
OBY
RAN
TO
THE
H
OUSE
OF
W
ONDERS
. They feared they were too late to save Silas now the mob had a head start on them. But when they reached the House of Wonders, it was calm.
“Where is Silas, Sally?” asked Lucy of a woman dressed to look like a mermaid.
“Some men asked me same question a minute ago. He’s gone for a paddle in the sea at the side of Tate Hill Pier.”
The trio dashed out and made their way to the sands. Shouts were heard from the tinkers and flower sellers on the pier. When they reached the sands, they could see the towering figure of Silas swimming to shore. When he took a few steps towards the sands, the mob advanced in a line as a barrier to prevent him getting out. There were more men in the mob than a few minutes earlier at the amusement arcade. David counted twenty-seven.