The Death Chamber (31 page)

The execution chamber was filling with Denzil McNulty’s grunting cries, and O’Kane was kneeling on the edge of the yawning gallows trap, trying to grasp his body and lift it to take
some of the weight off the rope. There was a bad moment when the writhing shape seemed to turn its faceless head accusingly towards him and swing straight at him. Nicholas flinched, but he had
managed to get McNulty’s upper body in a grotesque half-embrace and to lift him slightly which had reduced some of the rope’s tension.

Lewis was at the lever by this time. He drew it back, and the trapdoors shivered, hesitated, then slowly – far more slowly than they had opened – came back up into place. As they
levelled out, the taut rope slackened, and Denzil McNulty was pushed back up into the room. He fell forward on the trapdoors, knocking the plank to one side, his body jerking in spasms, retching
drily. Lewis bent over him, tearing at the rope and the canvas hood, hardly even remembering that this was the man who had been prepared to ruin him.

‘Is he all right?’ said O’Kane, kneeling down to help.

‘I think so. He’s breathing freely.’ Lewis managed to drag the rope off, and after it the hood and the saliva-soaked handkerchief. He laid McNulty flat, and then glanced over
his shoulder, praying no one had heard the trap being closed. ‘We’ll have to get him down into the gallows vault and along to the mortuary. There’s a tunnel leading out of the
vault straight to it. Can you help me, O’Kane? We can take him down the steps.’ He indicated the second, smaller trapdoor in the corner and saw with gratitude that O’Kane was
already opening it and peering down.

‘It’s all clear, Caradoc.’

‘Good. Wait a minute, I’ll lock this door. No one should come in, but we’d better make sure.’

Nicholas was inspecting McNulty again. ‘He’s just about conscious,’ he said. ‘He’ll have the devil of a sore throat for a few days but he’s breathing all
right. I’d say he’ll live to tell the tale, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Lewis, coming back from the door and pocketing the keys. ‘He’ll live to tell the tale.’

‘And there’s the rub, isn’t it?’ said O’Kane, softly. ‘Because he will tell the tale, won’t he?’

They looked at one another. I don’t know if I altogether trust O’Kane, thought Lewis, pocketing the keys. But I can’t see I’ve got any choice, although I still
don’t know what I’m going to do with him. He said slowly, ‘You’re right, McNulty will tell the tale. Unless . . .’

‘Unless we bribe him? Strike a bargain with him? Is that what you’re thinking?’

‘Yes. But we’d need to offer him something he wants very much.’

‘Can we do that?’

‘Yes,’ said Lewis meeting Nicholas O’Kane’s eyes. ‘I think we can.’

‘I have,’ said Nicholas, ‘conducted discussions in some very odd places. I’ve helped to hatch plots against the English in places you two gentlemen
wouldn’t even know existed – places that oughtn’t to exist on God’s earth in this enlightened century. But I don’t think I’ve ever conducted a discussion of any
kind in the mortuary of a gaol.’ He glanced about him. ‘Is anyone likely to come in here, do you suppose? Because if so I may need to get under a sheet and pretend to be my own
corpse.’

He was seated on the ground, leaning back against a wall. His hair was untidy and there were marks of extreme strain around his eyes. But for all that and for all the bizarre nature of the
situation and the surroundings, the remark about pretending to be his own corpse was said with a carelessness bordering on the flippant. Lewis was half sitting on the edge of one of the stone
tables and McNulty, his face still blotched with ugly red patches and his neck mottled with bruises, had the only chair. His feet were still tied – Lewis had not dared free him completely
– but they had removed the wrist straps.

‘No one will come in here yet,’ said Lewis. ‘The body’s always left on the rope for an hour.’

‘Why?’

‘Partly to let the muscle spasms die away. Partly as a mark of respect. I know it might not sound respectful at all, but it’s what’s always done. Doctor, isn’t that
right?’

‘It’s perfectly right,’ said McNulty. He spoke with difficulty and his voice sounded as if the whole inside of his throat had been scraped raw.

‘We’re down here,’ said Lewis, ‘because we need to talk without fear of interruption.’

‘And because none of us wanted to stay in that loathsome death chamber any longer than necessary,’ put in Nicholas, glancing over his shoulder at the door to the brick tunnel leading
to the gallows vault. ‘I never thought that, given a choice, I’d find a mortuary preferable to anywhere, though.’ He looked about him. ‘It’s a dark old place,
isn’t it?’

It was dark because the mortuary was partly underground, but O’Kane had found and lit an oil lamp. Lewis had filled a tin cup with water from the sink and after sipping this for a few
moments, McNulty was able to direct them to one of the medicine cupboards for a small phial containing some kind of restorative crystal. He inhaled this a few times and as the room filled up with
the smell of ammonia, his face regained some of its normal colour. He’s recovering, thought Lewis, and thank God for it. I’m not a murderer after all. I’ve been saved that. Was I
mad to do what I did? The problem’s still there, of course. How am I going to get out of all this?

‘I find it a remarkable eventuality,’ said McNulty in the raw, difficult voice, ‘that I should be sitting down here with the two villains who intended to kill me. Lewis Caradoc
you’re a cold-blooded murderer.’

‘And you,’ said Lewis at once, ‘are a greedy bloodsucking blackmailer.’

‘If either of you are thinking that puts you on an even footing,’ said O’Kane, ‘I’d have to tell you it does not.’ He studied McNulty. ‘So you’re
a blackmailer, are you, Doctor? Well, in my book, blackmail’s a far worse crime than murder.’

‘Where, in your book, does treachery come, O’Kane?’ said McNulty coldly.

Lewis saw Nicholas’s hands curl into involuntary fists, but he said, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand the – the anger and the bitterness your countrymen generated in
Ireland, McNulty. When we held Dublin, the British opened fire, but they were so bloody inept they shot civilians. And d’you know, when they executed the ringleaders James Connelly was
already dying. But they propped him up in a hospital bed for the court martial, and afterwards carried him out to the firing squad and tied him to a chair to shoot him. Someone like you
couldn’t imagine the – the disgust and outrage Connelly’s execution caused. It’s the stuff that brews hatred and lets it ferment in men’s minds, McNulty. It makes men
throw in their lots with enemies of your bloody country. I hated the British for what they did to Connelly. We all hated the British for that.’

‘So you spied against us.’

‘For God’s sake, man, you have spies on your side! Spying’s a part of war. And if you really are a blackmailer, then I wish I’d left you to choke your guts out at the end
of Pierrepoint’s rope. Caradoc’s too much of a gentleman for his own good.’

‘Your opinions don’t matter,’ said McNulty. ‘By tonight you’ll be back in the condemned cell, and this time tomorrow you’ll be a corpse on that table and
there’ll be no pretence about any of it. As for you, Caradoc, you’ll be in one of your own cells on a charge of attempted murder.’ He stared at Nicholas with dislike. ‘Did
you really think you’d go free after this? That I wouldn’t turn you – both of you – over to the police? Or were you thinking you’d finish me off here and now, and
throw me into the grave that Saul Ketch dug yesterday?’

‘We’ll have to throw someone into that grave,’ said Nicholas at once. ‘So don’t tempt me, McNulty, because you haven’t recovered from being hanged yet and it
could still be you in there.’

‘We’ll make a dummy for the burial,’ said Lewis who had already worked this out. ‘Blankets and old pillows tied inside a sheet. Not difficult to fool people if it’s
done properly.’

‘And the coroner’s verdict? The “death by judicial execution” certificate? How will you manage that?’ said McNulty.

Lewis said, ‘You can write out the death certificate yourself. I’ve already sent Pierrepoint back to the King’s Head. He thinks we’ve had warning of reprisals for
O’Kane’s execution. The coroner can be told the same story.’

‘Reprisal for the death of a hero?’ said McNulty a bit sneeringly.

‘Don’t sneer, McNulty; I’m using what’s to hand to get us out of this,’ said Lewis.

‘Neither of you are getting out of anything,’ said McNulty. ‘I’m making sure of that. After all, I’m the innocent one in all this.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘I’m not the one who tried to commit murder,’ said McNulty. ‘And it’s only because of the difference in weight that you really didn’t murder me. Pierrepoint
had worked out the length of the rope allowing for O’Kane’s weight and height,’ he said. ‘We’re much of a height, but I’m thinner than he is, so the hanging went
wrong.’

‘For want of a few pounds of fat, the battle went the other way,’ remarked Nicholas.

‘And,’ went on McNulty, ‘unlike you, Nicholas O’Kane, I haven’t sold my country to the enemy. How many people d’you suppose died because of what you
did?’

‘I have more contrition for that than you could ever understand,’ said Nicholas. ‘But I’m damned if I’ll account to you for any of my sins. But I’ll be
straight with you both and say I haven’t the mind to go back into that hell hole and wait to have my neck ceremoniously broken. So, Caradoc, if you have a plan let’s hear it.’

Lewis frowned, arranging his thoughts. ‘It’s said that every man has his price,’ he said. ‘And I’m fairly sure I know yours, McNulty. When we began this, it was
because you blackmailed me into your macabre experiment to weigh a soul.’

‘Jesus God,’ said O’Kane from his corner. ‘He wanted to weigh a soul? Was that what all that fiddling about with measures and balances was this morning? And this is the
man who accused you of being cold-blooded!’

‘I think,’ said Lewis, still addressing the doctor, ‘that if I offered to set up your own research society – to fund it for you but allow you all the kudos of heading it
and being its founder – then you’d agree to keep quiet about what happened here this morning. I think you’d write out that death certificate and back up my story about a
threatened attack from O’Kane’s countrymen.’

‘And help us tie up a bolster and drop it in the grave for the chaplain,’ put in Nicholas.

Lewis was still watching Denzil McNulty. An immense stillness had fallen over the doctor, and Lewis knew he had read the man right. McNulty was not only a fanatic, he was immensely vain. He
could not resist being hailed as a new star in the psychic firmament and he could not resist having his name attached to research and experiment into that subject. Lewis could almost hear the
thoughts scudding through his mind. To head a new and prestigious research facility, with the eminent Lewis Caradoc as its sponsor. Perhaps to be known as the man who gave the world conclusive
proof of the soul’s existence.

McNulty said slowly, ‘I could certainly be known for the work, but the General Medical Council might frown if such a society actually bore my name. They might see it as a form of
advertising and, as you know, that’s strictly forbidden.’

Lewis, who had partly foreseen this, said, ‘That needn’t be a difficulty. You could use my name, but we could ensure people knew you were the true founder of such an organization.
The guiding light.’

McNulty had already taken the bait, of course, but he pretended a little longer. ‘It would all have to be done properly,’ he said, frowning consideringly. ‘An official
headquarters, a properly registered association. It might be quite costly.’

‘Short of the outright ridiculous, the money can be made available.’

‘This morning’s experiment failed,’ said McNulty suddenly, and Lewis thought, he’s going to say he’ll try again somewhere else. What will I do if he tries again at
Calvary?

But he only said, ‘I should, of course, require your absolute assurance that nothing that has happened here this morning will ever be spoken of beyond the three of us. That goes for you as
well, O’Kane.’

‘I’m not likely to speak, am I?’ said Nicholas with some force. ‘If I speak out I put myself straight back in the condemned cell.’

‘You’re letting him go?’ said McNulty to Lewis.

‘We’re letting one another go,’ said Lewis. ‘Think about it. Each of us has committed a crime on his own account. You are a blackmailer; O’Kane is a convicted
traitor. I am guilty of attempted murder – and I would have been an actual murderer but for the difference in your two weights. As well as that, we’re all guilty of covering up the
substitution of McNulty for O’Kane – oh yes, we are, Doctor. Calvary’s clock has just struck ten o’clock; that means it’s two hours since the hanging. But you’ve
done nothing to bring either myself or O’Kane to justice. The law would consider that to be condoning the crime.’ Lewis knew he was on thin ice with this last statement, so he went
quickly on before McNulty could question it.

‘We each have a weapon we could use to bring down the other two. But if one of us speaks out, he damns himself as well. If you were to bring a charge of attempted murder against me, I
should bring a counter-charge of blackmail against you. It would probably be a charge that would stick, as well. But if we all remain silent, no one need ever know what happened inside Calvary
today.’

‘An unholy trinity,’ said Nicholas. ‘A gallows pact. Well, I’m with you, Caradoc. You might not count my word as meaning much, but you have it anyway. I haven’t so
very much money – I left what I had for my wife and the boy. She said it was tainted money, but for all that she’ll have used it.’ A sudden sadness showed in his eyes, and Lewis
knew he was remembering the small boy with intelligent eyes who had been brought to Calvary to bid him farewell. ‘And even if she hasn’t,’ said Nicholas, ‘I can’t see
any way of regaining it. I’ll have to work for my living.’ He considered for a moment, and then said, ‘But I can’t stay in England, that’s for sure – not for a
few years at any rate. The world believes me to be dead and the world will have to go on believing that.’ He broke off, and in a voice Lewis had not heard him use, said softly, ‘The
hardest part will be never seeing my son.’