The Mermaid in the Basement (43 page)
“Why, yes, I did. I’ve never been to a service like it.”
“Well, blessings on thee, sister. You must come again, and we will continue our series of messages on the Revelation.”
“We have a favour to ask of you, Lorenzo, and you, too, Gyp.”
“Well, I was a black and awful sinner when you found me, Brother Dylan. You showed me the doorway to the kingdom of God’s heaven.
How I praise the day, and now am grateful indeed to return the favour.
What can we do for you?”
Dylan carefully explained the situation. The two men listened without saying a word as Dylan spoke of Clive’s plight and how he was certain to be convicted unless a witness were found to save him. “Her name is Sadie, and her man has a steel hook for a right hand.”
“Don’t know such a bloke,” Gyp said, “but I can ask around.”
“We can do that, but the viscountess here has received a threat against her son.We need someone to come to the house and protect the boy while we’re searching for this witness. One of you could watch during the day, the other at night.You two could do more than a whole troop of policemen.”
“It’s a big favour to ask,” Serafina said.
“Why, bless you, ma’am.” Lorenzo nodded his head violently. “It’s little enough for a brother in the Lord to ask of Gyp and me.We’ll be glad to do it, won’t we?”
“Nobody will get at the boy. I learnt some pretty mean, vicious tricks during my life as a sinner,” Gyp said, “but now I’ll have a chance to use them in the service of the Lord.”
Serafina gave them her address, and they said, “We’ll be there in an hour. You rest your spirit in the Lord, Sister Trent. The boy will be safe as if he was in the portals of heaven.”
Dylan led Serafina out then, and as soon as they were outside, she said, “That was a strange experience.”
“But it was a good one. No one will ever get near David. If they do,” he said rather grimly, “it will be the worse for them.”
The two left at once, and as they pulled away, Serafina was thinking of the enthusiasm with which the people had sung.
We’re washed in the
blood.We’re soldiers of Jesus.
She had sung no hymns like that or, indeed, of any kind for years, but somehow a confidence came to her as she sat beside Dylan. “They’ll take care of David, won’t they?”
“They’re better than an army for that kind of work. No one will see them until they try to harm David, and then,” he said grimly, “the roof will fall down on them.”
A
s Matthew Grant drew the razor down across his face, he heard a tiny squeaking noise, and looking down he saw a mouse looking up at him. “Well, there you are,” he said, a smile touching his lips. “You’re getting to be quite a bold little beggar.”
He cleaned the razor by drawing it across a towel, splashed water onto his face, and then dried it off. Turning, he moved to the desk, where he opened his box and pulled out a piece of cheese. Breaking off a tiny morsel, he came back and, leaning over, put the morsel before the mouse and watched. The mouse was a sleek grey with shiny black eyes, and for a moment she sat up with her paws folded, looking up at the man. To Grant she looked like a supplicant begging for a favour, and he smiled as she dropped onto all fours and moved over to the cheese and picked it up. She began turning the cheese rapidly, nibbling at it in tiny bites and pausing from time to time. Finally, when she had reduced the cheese to a small size, she took it in her mouth and whisked away to the hole in the baseboard that led to her nest.
“I must be losing my mind, becoming attached to vermin.” Grant spoke the words aloud. As he straightened and moved toward the wardrobe that held his clothing, it occurred to him that there was probably no other man in London who had no companion but a mouse. The tiny creature had appeared a month ago, and Grant, who had never had a pet in his entire life, on a whim put a bit of cheese down and then watched as she ate it. He had noticed then that she was a pregnant mother, and he found himself touched by her. As he opened the door of the wardrobe, he remembered vividly how he had been drawn into some sort of relationship with the tiny creature.
He had few friends and no family at all. His life was consumed by his work, and by some strange twist he had become attached to the mouse and had fed her. She would come out when he was seated in his chair, sitting up and folding her paws, her bright eyes expectant. Now he thought,
A fine thing when the closest friend a man has in his life is a
mouse.
His thought did not trouble him, however, but then his lips turned upward in a smile, and he ran his hand through his hair.
The
superintendent would be shocked to know that I have a gentle streak, and
so would a lot of thieves and murderers in London. Old Matthew Grant’s
gone silly over a mouse.
Putting those thoughts behind him, he paused before the wardrobe. All of his clothing was well worn, for he seldom bought new clothes. He had three suits that he wore on the job, and one suit that he wore for formal occasions, funerals, or the like.
Grant reached toward the best garment—an expensive grey suit—and then paused, his brow furrowed.
Who do you think you’re going to impress?
The thought touched his mind, and he moved his head as if to shake it off. He was a man of intense reality, and ignoring the expensive suit, he picked out a simple outfit and began to put it on. He knew himself well, and he realised why he had almost put on clothing he hardly ever wore. He was going to the Newton house, and his first impulse had been to wear his best and impress them.
Don’t be a fool,
Grant warned himself.
They’re quality people and are
not going to be impressed by a policeman no matter what he wears
. Quickly he put on the brown suit, added a dark blue tie, and then prepared to leave his room. He stopped by the mirror, however, and took one look, studying his squarish, stubborn-looking face, the silver hair, and the deepest and wide-spaced hazel eyes. He suddenly laughed and spoke to his image. “So you’re going to see Dora Newton again, and you’re going to have something to say to the whole family. They’ll probably have the butler show you out.” Turning quickly, he left the room and walked rapidly along the sidewalk. It was midafternoon now, and the sun was bright. He passed by a group of sparrows on the curb. They were fighting over a bit of bread, it seemed, and Grant smiled.
Well, birds in their nest don’t agree,
so why should man be any different?
Twenty minutes later he was standing at the front door of the Newton house. He took a deep breath and discovered that he felt anxiety running along his nerves. This was so unusual that he blinked, and for a moment did not knock.
You’ve gone after murderers and the worst in dark alleys, but
now you’re afraid to face a slip of a woman and her family?
A wry smile touched his lips. Firmly he reached out and knocked on the door. Almost at once Barden, the butler, answered it. “Inspector Grant,” Barden said.
“Won’t you come in?”
“I’d like to see Mr. Newton if I could.”
“The family are in the drawing room. If you’ll wait here, Inspector, I’ll see if they will receive you.”
“Thank you, Barden.”
Looking at the fine paintings in the foyer as he waited, Grant was impressed with the opulence of it all. He had known no other people in the very upper registers of society, and he felt out of place and awkward.
Barden came back and nodded. “The family will be glad to see you, Inspector. If you’ll come this way.”
“Thank you, Barden.” Grant followed the butler down the hall and then entered a door that led to a rather large room. He had only been in the study of the Newton house and was impressed by the richness of the furniture, the paintings on the wall, and the thick drapes that were drawn back to allow the sunlight to shine upon the thick Persian carpet.
“I apologise for calling without notice,” Grant said at once to
Septimus Newton, who had risen.He looked around and saw that the rest of the family was all there.
Just as well that I tell it to all of them,
he thought.
“We’re glad to have you, Inspector. Is this an official visit?”
“No, sir, it’s not. My visit has nothing to do with your son.”
“Won’t you sit down,” Mrs. Newton said.
“Thank you,”Grant said and took a seat on the very edge of a Queen Anne chair that seemed too delicate for furniture. He glanced over at Dora, and she smiled at him winningly.
“I have never felt so awkward in my life,” Grant said, and his eyes swept the entire group. He saw that Lady Bertha Mulvane was staring at him with dislike.
She doesn’t like policemen,
he thought, and then his eyes went to Alberta Newton, who was watching him with a nervous manner.
Septimus sat back down next to his daughter the viscountess, and Grant saw that she was watching him narrowly. She said, “There’s no need to be nervous, Inspector.”
His eyes went to Dora. “I try not to intefere with anyone’s personal life, but something has come to my attention that I feel obligated to tell you.” He hesitated and said, “It concerns something about Sir Aaron Digby that I think you should know.”
“Why in the world would you be coming to us with this?” Bertha burst out. “Surely it’s none of your business.”
“You’re right, ma’am, it is not, but if I see a tragedy about to happen, I like to think I wouldn’t let my personal feelings keep me from stepping in.”
“What’s the tragedy you’re speaking of, Inspector?” Serafina asked. She had not liked Grant at first, but the man had grown on her. There was certainly a stubbornness in him, and she had sensed that he distrusted and even disliked members of the aristocracy. But Dora had told her how kind he had been on two occasions, and now she studied the policeman carefully. “I’ve found out that if you have something to say to someone, it’s best just to speak it out.”
“Thank you, Viscountess. I believe you’re right.Well, here it is, then.
I regret to tell you that your daughter will be ruined if she marries Sir Aaron Digby.”
Everyone in the room stared at him, and Bertha gasped and cried out, “You’re meddling in a family affair!”
“Yes, I know I am, but I would hate to see any woman marry Digby.”
“What have you learnt about him?” Serafina asked. She was watching Dora, who was wide-eyed and seemingly could not speak.
“Sir Aaron Digby has a terrible record. The man is a sadist. He has two daughters who have been taken to the hospital since childhood many times, both of them, with bruises and even wounds. The same is true for his wife. The poor woman was battered, and Digby managed to cover it up by bribing people. This all came to my attention,” he said, “through a man named Gerald James.He was a servant in Digby’s household, and he was an eyewitness on at least three occasions when Digby beat the women severely. He tried to protest, and Digby fired him and hired men to beat him rather badly.”
“I can’t believe it!” Alberta Newton cried. “He seems like such a nice man.”
“There’s more,” Grant said. “In addition to being a woman beater, he’s a fortune hunter. All he had was his title before he married. He took all of his wife’s money and squandered it. I traced some of it. I’m afraid I don’t like to mention what he did with it, but there were women involved and gambling. Now he’s in the hands of some very dangerous moneylenders. I spoke with one of them in my investigation, and he said that Digby was being threatened by other moneylenders. That’s the man who wants to marry your daughter, Mr. Newton. I apologise for giving you this information.”
“No, don’t apologise,” Dora cried. She stood up and came over and stood in front of Grant. “It was a noble thing, and I know it must have been very difficult for you.”
Grant swallowed as he looked at the young woman and said, “It was difficult. No man likes to interfere in the affairs of others.”
Septimus came then and put out his hand. “I thank you, Inspector, for coming. It would have been terrible for Dora to have married a man like this.”
“I’d like to know why you have done this,” Bertha demanded. She saw the futility of trying to go against the facts of Grant’s findings, but still there was a bitter look on her face as she stared at the policeman.
A silence fell on the room, and then Dora turned and faced her aunt for a moment. “He did it for me, Aunt Bertha.” Turning back, she looked up at Grant. “Isn’t that true,Matthew?”
“Yes, it is.”
Serafina smiled and came over and offered her hand. “I thank you very much. You’ve done the family a great service, Inspector Grant.”
“How are you, Callie?” Dylan was surprised to find Callie at his door, but he smiled and said, “Come in and have a seat.”
Callie wore the same outfit she always wore, probably the only one she had, and she looked exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her speech was slower than usual.
Callie stepped inside, and as soon as Dylan closed the door, she said, “I found ’er and ’im too!”
For a moment Dylan could not imagine what she meant, and then his eyes narrowed. “You mean you found the woman named Sadie?”
