A Bitter Remedy, page 28
‘Didn’t he know Parker’s dead?’
‘Yeah. That’s why he wanted the remedy.’ Thompson was falling over himself to explain. The way Sidney’d referred to Blain and Thompson in his journal had made them seem like equals, but Blain was obviously in charge, here, and didn’t think he answered to Reardon. ‘He had one of your bills,’ Thompson gabbled, ‘the Spermattyreea Kills one. He said Parker must’ve died because he left it too late to take the remedy, should’ve taken it sooner—’
Oh clever, clever Tarley!
‘—but what if he’s told other people and they think he died because he took it?’
‘Hold on… Parker told him he had the new remedy?’
‘Yes! And that’s what he wanted. Said he knew Parker’d got it off me!’ Carmichael Thompson was getting more and more wound up. ‘If Parker told him, who else did he tell? How long before everybody’s saying it was the new remedy that killed him?’
‘Shut up,’ Blain said. ‘Lemme think.’ But he didn’t think for long. ‘Where is he?’
‘Coal cellar.’
‘Alive?’
‘Yes! Fuck! Course he’s alive.’
‘Why the hell did you bring him back here? Why didn’t you just tell him you’d never heard of any Professor Deneuve?’
‘I dunno. Thought you’d know what to say to him.’
‘Christ.’ Blain hit something. The table, probably. ‘You were supposed to tell the little shit not to mention that he was taking it to anybody.’
‘I did. Told him to keep mum till we got the bills out.’
‘Well, he took no fuckin’ notice, did he?’ I could hear that Blain was holding on to whatever was left of his temper by a whisker. ‘Didn’t you tell him to stay inside and rest while he was taking the stuff, like I told you?’
‘Yes, I did! Told him exactly what you said – stay indoors, rest, and that’ll give it the best chance to work.’
So that was why Sidney Parker had kept to his room on Monday. Not just because he was dealing with bowel cramps and sitting on his chamber pot, but because he thought that was the way to give the ‘remedy’ the best chance to cure him.
‘So how come whoever you’ve got down there knows about Professor Deneuve’s?’
‘I don’t know, do I? Maybe Parker didn’t go out – maybe this one came to see him?’
There was a pause then Blain said, ‘You’ll have to get rid of him.’
‘What? No!’
‘Yes.’ Blain’s voice was like a fist in the face. ‘Weigh him down and chuck him in the canal. Nobody’ll ever find him.’
‘But they’ll come here looking for him, won’t they? That proctor knew he was here. What if he goes to the police?’
‘If they come, I’ll let ’em in. Let ’em look round. You’ll just have to make sure he’s gone by then. Doesn’t matter if he’s dead or not when you throw him in the canal, just make sure he doesn’t make any noise on the way there. Hammer to the head’ll see to that.’
My legs were beginning to tremble from crouching down and from the cold. I put one knee to the ground.
‘Fuck off!’ Thompson sounded as if he’d grown a backbone. ‘I’m not hanging for nobody. You want him dead, you put an ’ammer to his head.’
‘I’ll put one to yours if you don’t fuckin’ do as you’re told,’ Blain threatened. ‘Think I wouldn’t kill you where you sit?’ I felt fear run down my spine like a trickle of icy rain. He sounded as if the thought appealed to him. ‘Don’t try me.’
My heart was racing, and I was suddenly trembling all over. Tarley’d be able to hear all this from the coal cellar. If he was conscious.
I had to do something.
Most of the kitchen was hidden from me by the angle of the open doorway, but I could see what must be the cellar door, right there in the corner in front of me.
‘What about the stuff?’ Thompson whined. ‘There’s four bloody crates of it down there. If the police come, they’ll see it.’
‘Let ’em. That stuff’s fine. You just need to get rid of Sidney’s pal down there.’
I turned my head towards the garden. Were Basil and the boys out there, arguing about what to do? Blain had fobbed Basil off so perhaps they’d given the plan up and gone home with their tails between their legs. They’d be back when they saw I wasn’t at home, but they might be too late, then.
Thompson was still talking. ‘But what if they test it? What if they find out it was that that killed the boy?’
A sound came from Blain that was probably his version of a laugh. ‘Just how stupid are you, you cretinous fucker? Let me spell it out. The stuff you gave him did kill him. It was supposed to kill him. But it wasn’t what’s in those crates downstairs.’
There was a silence then. In my mind’s eye, I saw Thompson gaping at him. ‘What?’ Blain sounded amused. ‘Did you think the instructions you gave him were going to go out with every bottle of Professor Deneuve’s? Why d’you think they weren’t written down?’
‘Because the leaflets weren’t back from the printers yet. You told me!’
‘Jesus. You really are as stupid as you look, aren’t you? Diarrhoea, vomiting, sweating, fainting – who the fuck’d take something that caused all that, apart from a cretin like Parker?’
There was a silence while Thompson took in what he’d said. Then he started shouting. ‘No! He’d just left it too long. It’s like you said – it was dicey in his condition. Kill or cure. That’s what you said.’
‘Yeah, and you believed it. You stupid fucker, what you gave him wasn’t Professor Deneuve’s.’ I didn’t know what Blain’s face looked like, but I knew he was sneering.
‘What was it, then?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Did its job, that’s all you need to know.’
‘Why though?’ Thompson sounded panicked.
‘Why d’you think? Little sod was going to run off to America. He’d’ve wanted his money. And it was all gone, wasn’t it? Reardon’d sunk it all into the business.’
Just then, a sound came from the direction of the back gate. Panic shot through me. I moved backwards as silently as I could, still crouching, and peered into the dark. My heart was going nineteen to the dozen and I was shaking so much I could barely keep myself from falling flat on my back. I put a hand to the ground to steady myself and squinted into the darkness at the end of the garden. But the moon had gone behind a cloud so I couldn’t see a thing. Was somebody there? I held my breath and listened. A shout from a nearby street made me jump so hard I could’ve sworn I left the ground.
I stared and stared in the direction of the gate. Was it still open? The dark seemed to have a different shade where it should be, but I couldn’t be sure.
Were Basil and the boys here? God, I hoped they were. Without help, I had no chance of getting Tarley out of Blain’s cellar.
But what if it was another one of Blain and Thompson’s lot? What if they’d seen me and were just standing there, watching, waiting? A man standing in the corner behind the privy would be out of sight.
I strained my ears, but all I could hear were shouts coming from outside one of the beer houses on Cranham Street. My eyes were sore from straining into the dark.
Blain wanted Thompson to kill Tarley. Immediately. By the time Basil came back with reinforcements, Tarley could be dead.
Whether I was being watched or not, I had to do something now.
Chapter 48
Basil
Billy and Albie were hiding just out of sight around the corner.
‘He wasn’t having it, then.’ Albie was subdued, and I wondered if he felt as foolish and humiliated as I did. Our plan now seemed hopelessly naïve.
‘I think he believed I was a proctor,’ I said, ‘but he refused to let me in.’
‘What now?’ Billy asked, his breath visible in the lamplight.
I hesitated. ‘We’ll have to try and get in through the back.’
A look passed between Billy and Albie. They obviously didn’t think I had it in me to storm the house.
‘We might get more than we bargain for if we do that,’ Albie said. ‘Somebody’s just gone down between the houses. Could be they were going into Blain’s.’
Billy rolled his shoulders uncertainly. He’d been full of bravado when I’d outlined Non’s plan but, within sight of Blain’s house, his swaggering confidence had turned to apprehension.
I tried to bolster my own flagging resolve by chivvying them. ‘Do you want to go back and tell Non – or Lily for that matter – that we’ve left him here?’
Albie chewed his lip. ‘Don’t really know he’s here though, do we? It’s only a guess.’
He was right, of course. But if there was the smallest chance that Tarley Askew was in William Blain’s house, we couldn’t simply allow ourselves to be turned away like worn-down door-to-door salesmen. If he was in there, the boy was unlikely to be released without harm unless we intervened.
‘I quite understand if you’d rather not get involved,’ I said, stiffly, ‘but Mr Askew’s in this position because of me, and I can’t simply walk away.’
‘He’s here because Non stuck her nose in where it’s not wanted, as usual,’ Billy said.
‘That’s not fair,’ I countered. ‘Without Non, we’d know next to nothing about how Sidney Parker died and nothing at all about Blain’s involvement. So I, for one, am glad she put her nose in.’
Billy grunted.
‘I’m going to go in via the back door,’ I said, trying to sound decisive. ‘I have to know whether he’s there. But please don’t feel you have to.’
‘No, we’ll come with you,’ Albie said. ‘We’d never hear the end of it if we let you go by yourself.’
Billy sucked his teeth but didn’t argue.
‘Thank you,’ I said, shamefully relieved. ‘Right then. Let’s proceed, shall we?’
Blain’s house was the first in a row of six and, at each end of the short terrace, there was a passage through to the back gardens. Finding the gate that gave on to the appropriate garden was a simple matter. It was open.
‘Looks like the bloke I saw did come in here,’ Albie murmured.
I wondered whether his stomach was as knotted as my own, whether his hands were shaking and frozen with fear. I raised the lantern and stepped forward.
‘Leave that here,’ Billy whispered, nodding at the lantern, ‘or they’ll see us coming.’
He was right, but nevertheless, I felt as if I was relinquishing a weapon as I set the lantern down by the wall.
We filed through into the garden, each of us treading with immense care so as to make as little noise as possible. Huddled together, almost touching, in the confined space of the little garden, our dark forms seemed grotesquely large. I couldn’t believe that we wouldn’t be instantly visible to anybody inside the house.
Habit made me turn to close the gate, but Billy put a hand out to stop me and shook his head. He was right, of course. We might need a quick escape.
Then, without warning, Albie grabbed my arm and pulled me into the corner of the garden that was hidden from the scullery door. ‘There’s somebody there,’ he whispered as Billy darted after us. ‘Just in the scullery doorway.’
‘Askew?’ I asked, barely able to hear myself.
‘Don’t know.’
‘What could you see exactly?’ I asked, my lips almost touching his ear.
‘He’s crouching in the doorway. Difficult to tell, but I don’t think it’s Mr Askew. Not big enough.’
Had Mr Askew recruited somebody else in his desperate venture? I felt emboldened by the thought that we were not alone, but Billy Nicholson brought me to my senses.
‘It’s probably one of them. A lookout,’ he said, his voice so quiet that I had to strain to catch the words. ‘You raised the alarm, didn’t you, going to the door like that?’
Non’s antipathy towards Billy Nicholson wasn’t hard to understand. He contrived to make everything he said sound like a criticism.
‘If it’s one of them, then it’s not just Blain we’re dealing with,’ I said. ‘And we may need to do more than talk our way in.’ The odds weren’t in our favour. I couldn’t speak for Billy, but Albie wasn’t a pugilist – his mother would have had his guts for garters if he’d got into fights – and, though I’d boxed at school, the gentlemanly bouts I’d engaged in probably wouldn’t stand me in much stead in a real fight.
‘I think we should revert to the original pincer movement,’ I said, ‘otherwise we run the risk of losing Tarley. I’ll go back to the front. Wait until you hear me shouting and knocking, then get in through that door,’ I indicated the scullery, ‘if you can.’
The plan had failed once. Were we clutching at straws to think it would succeed now?
There was only one way to find out.
Chapter 49
Non
I considered my options. Now I knew that Tarley was in the coal hole, I could see that it wasn’t going to be easy to get him out. It wasn’t a case of flinging the cellar door open and shouting ‘run Tarley!’
If he was free down there, he’d have escaped by now because all he’d have had to do was unbolt the coal hatch from below and climb out. Which meant he had to be tied up. Or unconscious.
Was there any way I could get into the house without being seen? If I could get into the cellar, as long as Tarley could move under his own steam, I might be able to get him out. At the very least, I’d be able to open the hatch and come back with help.
I peered around the dark scullery, looking for something I could use to defend myself, but the floor and shelves were almost bare. You could tell that these men didn’t cook, clean or wash clothes in this house. There was no handy skillet to crown them with. Nor a washing dolly to swing at their heads. There’d be a poker in the kitchen to stir the fire, no doubt, but that was no help to me.
The entrance to the cellar was right next to the kitchen door. Two strides and I’d be there. Trouble was, anybody whose back wasn’t turned to the door would see me straight away.
I wished I had my sailor’s knife on me. It would’ve made me feel a lot better. Not that I wanted to go on the attack, but it would’ve been useful to wave around in my own defence.
‘You don’t need a knife for that. Don’t you remember Dada’s lessons?’
My father had been under no illusions about the dangers I’d face around sailors, and he’d taught me well. How to break a choke hold. How to disable a man if he came right at me.
‘Of course,’ I told Hara. ‘But I still wish I had my knife.’
Then I remembered the stones I’d picked up when I came into the garden. I could throw one of the stones at their lamp or candle. The light coming into the scullery wasn’t very bright, so they probably only had one lamp lit. There was a chance that I’d set the house on fire but it might be worth it if it got me into the cellar. At the very least, I could get down there, open the hatch and scream blue murder. Hopefully that might bring the odd neighbour in.
The stones in my pocket weren’t as smooth as the beach pebbles I was used to throwing. They were lumpy and dusty. It was possible that one of them was actually a chunk of coal. But they’d do the job. I had a good arm, and I was pretty confident that I’d be able to knock the light out with the second one if not the first. Then, while Blain and Thompson were thrashing about in the dark, I could let myself down into the cellar. If I was clever, perhaps I could wedge something behind the door to stop them following me. I looked around the scullery again, but nothing useful had turned up since I last looked, so I’d just have to manage.
With my heart going like a steam train, I stepped into the kitchen doorway, a stone in each hand. The room was almost bare. A table pushed up against the scullery wall. A rocker by the range. At the table, a big, entirely bald man with a beard that made it look as if his head was on upside down. The man I’d seen in Bear Lane was hunched in the chair. The bald one – Blain – saw me first.
‘Who the hell—?’
I wasn’t there to play twenty questions. And I didn’t need my stones. I stepped forward, swept the lamp off the table and, in the same movement, turned back to face the cellar door as the room went dark. Hand out in front of me, I reached for the door’s bolt. I’d fixed in my mind where it was just before the lamp went out, and I quickly pulled it back and pushed the door open. The cellar steps were pitch black and I had to put both hands on the walls either side of me to stop myself falling as I went down.
‘Tarley!’ I called. ‘Are you there?’
Just then, a thunderous banging started on the front door overhead.
‘Open this door, Blain. Open it now.’ It sounded like Basil’s voice, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d never heard him yell at the top of his voice before.
Behind me there was a thudding sound that seemed to come from the scullery and the sound of somebody crying out. I didn’t turn back.
I knew I’d reached the bottom of the steps when I stumbled onto the beaten earth floor of the coal cellar.
‘Tarley?’ I called into the darkness as the battering on the front door continued. For some reason, the noise made the blackness less stifling. As if noise was doing duty for light.
A muffled voice came from somewhere to my left. Crouching down, I began to search for him, creeping forward, reaching out blindly. Complete darkness confuses your senses. You can’t tell where your body ends and the rest of the world begins. I couldn’t see my fingers reaching out, and I had the sudden sensation that I was falling. I went down on one knee and took a breath to steady myself. It smelled as if a rat had died down here.
‘Tarley?’
The sound of the muffled voice came again. This time, it was obviously trying to say, ‘here’. Tarley Askew sounded close. Still on one knee, I reached out around me. First my fingers connected with something hard, wooden. Thompson’s crates. I pushed my hands further into the darkness. Felt cloth. And warm human.
Tarley cried out at my touch, and I moved my hands carefully in case of injuries. He was sitting up, thank goodness, so he couldn’t be too badly hurt. Once I’d found his head, I pulled his gag off and he spat something out.
