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Authors: James McCreet

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‘Ah, but they
did
kill Mr Williamson, Inspector – or so they should think after our excellent ruse. No – I will go to my
rendezvous
and you will be waiting to swoop upon the party. We already know that these men are too well protected to be arrested in their conventional lives. Perhaps if can catch them
in flagrante delicto
, we will have a case from which even they cannot escape
.

‘You walk willingly into danger, Mr Dyson.’

‘On the contrary. Once you have them in custody, they will be reluctant to tell you anything you cannot prove. If they think they have me in their trap, they may tell me what I need to know.’

‘All right – we can talk about that later. Now I want to hear more about Mr Williamson’s narcotic flight of fancy and who the owner of that damaged voice was.’

‘There is nothing remotely amusing about it, I can assure you, Inspector. I might have been killed but for Benjamin’s intervention.’

Benjamin nodded in acknowledgement.

‘Yes, yes – but who was the older man? Was it this Major Tunnock?’

‘No,’ said Noah. ‘We have discussed it and the two men have quite different voices and turns of phrase. I have an entirely different theory . . . but I see from Mr Cullen’s agitation that he has something to say. Yes, Mr Cullen?’

‘Sirs, I went out west as we agreed and attempted to find girls who knew of Lou: the murdered prostitute with a newly acquired benefactor. One girl – whose testimony I believed – told me that the gentleman in question was old, ugly and had health problems that affected his skin. What if those health problems also affected his voice—?’

‘What nonsense! It could be anyone at all!’ scoffed Mr Newsome.

‘In fact, Mr Cullen’s report is actually rather interesting,’ said Noah, ‘as it has been since he began cooperating with us. Let me suggest some words to you, Inspector, and see what you make of them: lavender, almond, and creosote or coal tar.’

‘Am I a lady to know about such things? Make your point, Mr Dyson.’

‘Joseph the waterman told us he smelled lavender and coal tar when he encountered the murderers face to face. Both he and Mr Cullen have alluded to other scents they could not immediately place.’

‘What? There were others at the scene of the crime? You told me nothing of this at our last meeting!’

‘And you withheld facts of your own. If we had told you, Eusebius Bean would also have found out. Fortunately, Mr Cullen was able to tell us that he smelled lavender in the room Mr Sampson fell from. It was our strongest clue, and our recent researches have led us to believe that these scents – as scents often do – cover something far more unsavoury.’

‘You have centre stage, Mr Dyson. I await your soliloquy. But I expect to hear everything.’

‘In my time at the library, I did a little medical research. I found that sores of the mouth are often treated with tincture of myrrh and scented with jasmine. Lavender is used as an emollient in treatments to soothe the skin – as is creosote and almond oil, particularly on the scalp. Together, these scents account for those alluded to by our witnesses, along with the unidentified ones: jasmine and myrrh are relatively uncommon and not generally known.’

‘So what are you telling me – that our “broken-voiced man” is unhealthy? I think we might have guessed that.’

‘More than that, Inspector. Certainly, Mr Cullen’s tale of a man with skin problems is pertinent (especially coming from acquaintances of Lou), but I believe there is more to infer from this particular combination of medicaments. Are you familiar with the mercury cure, Inspector?’

‘Not personally, if that is what you mean.’

‘I am glad for you. The man who ingests large quantities of mercury develops mouth sores. His condition, when advanced, will cause his hair to fall out and his skin to be covered in sores. There is also a strong likelihood that his face will be scarred with cicatrices if he has had the condition for long.’

‘Syphilis.’

‘Indeed – all of the evidence points to our man having an advanced stage of the disease. If he is someone of note as we suspect, this might explain his relative invisibility and why I did not see anyone of this appearance at the club. Nobody likes to advertise that their very organism is rotting from the inside. Without those perfumed oils and soothing balms, his breath would be a blast from the grave and his skin a permanently suppurating sheath to a rotting body.’

‘You paint a graphic picture, Mr Dyson. But are we any closer? You suggest we are looking for an important man with syphilis – there must dozens in the city, all of them no doubt reclusive.’

‘There is more. If this is the same gentleman who killed Lou, and the same that questioned Mr Williamson, our Mr Cullen has learned from a prostitute that he enjoyed giving and receiving a beating at his place. Not only that, but he
encouraged his fellows to watch
. What if this was the scenario at Colliver’s coffee house that night? What if Mr Sampson’s shouts of “I cannot” related to his inhibitions in this case?’

‘Your reasoning is full of “what ifs”, Mr Dyson.’

‘You say so, but my individual research has offered more evidence in favour of it. My conversations with the gentlemen at the club (and I include my brief talk with Mr Poppleton) have suggested that the group favours the more extreme varieties of sexual endeavour. Indeed, they gave me a tract that seemed to describe their philosophy. You will note who the publisher is.’

Noah handed the tract to Inspector Newsome, whose face took on an expression of distaste as he read the first lines. He folded it and handed it back.

‘Interesting. But what do we do without a name? His fellows – if they
are
his fellows – are unlikely to offer his identity.’

‘Ah, that is where I have more information,’ said Noah. ‘Although the girl Mr Cullen spoke to did not know where the gentleman lived, you will recall that Charlotte told Mr Williamson about how the dead girls had visited certain charities for girls of their profession, and that their deaths were connected in some way?’

‘Yes. An improbable suggestion.’

‘Perhaps. Purporting to be a wealthy manufacturer looking for a suitable recipient of my munificence, I wrote letters to the secretaries of these charities asking for lists of their major benefactors and supporters in order that I could be sure they were respectable and deserving of my own considerable charity.’

‘And?’

‘Here are the replies: lists of some our most notable men and women. I have no doubt you recognize many of the names. But only one name appears on every list as a prominent supporter of “fallen women”. I have circled it as you see.’

‘Sir John Smythe.’

‘Precisely. He is also a senior sponsor of the Society for the Suppression of Vice, though I cannot say I have heard the name before.’

‘Nor I, though I find myself oddly unsurprised at the Vice Society connection. What does it prove that he is on the charitable lists of these bodies?’

‘It proves that Charlotte was telling the truth,’ said Mr Williamson. ‘Or, at least, that the truth can be found somewhere in this web of unlikely coincidence. True – we still do not know why these murders are being disguised as such, unless it is somehow part of the unholy philosophy outlined in that tract.’

‘I am afraid to admit that George is right,’ said Noah. ‘All we have is coincidence at present. We could locate and speak to this John Smythe, but I suspect he currently feels confident in his anonymity. We might guess at the others involved, but we are supposed to know nothing about him. I suggest we keep it that way for the time being. Instead, tell us what
you
have discovered, Inspector.’

‘With so much untruth and subterfuge going on, I admit that I am as baffled as you—’

‘Enough of that! What has the case of poor Nelly shown you about this case?’

‘All right. Her body was found with an empty glass nearby. It smelled of gin and prussic acid. The cause of death was poisoning. Sexual activity had taken place.’

‘Hmm. Hmm,’ intoned Mr Williamson with a sombre air.

‘I suppose that you see another connection with those girls and Katherine, George, but what possible connection can there be? Katherine’s death was a fall; these are not. That death was years ago; these are much more recent.’

‘We will come to that in a moment,’ said Noah. ‘In the meantime, Mr Cullen has told us about the chewed seeds he found. You might have dismissed them at the time, but I suspect you have revisited that clue as the only one you have. Have they been found on other girls?’

‘Another betrayal from Constable Cullen. I see. Well, in fact, the body of Nelly also had seeds in the mouth. I have made enquiries and I must say that my findings have been most enlightening. The fruit in question is not an orange, as Constable Cullen thought, but—’

‘A pomegranate,’ said Noah.

‘Yes. I see you have done your own research. But did you also discover that in ancient mythology a number of these seeds were consumed by Proserpine . . . also known to the Greeks as—’

‘Persephone,’ said Noah.

‘Well . . . we have the same information, but where does it get us? Are we any closer to the Persephone of that letter? Are we any closer to the death of Katherine? Are we any closer to finding our syphilitic villain, or discerning the reason for these deaths of prostitutes? Do we know why Mr Sampson leaped from the window, and who the mysterious young man was? No – we know none of those things.’

‘Perhaps . . . and perhaps not. Joseph the waterman told us something else that we have not revealed to you – most likely the thing that led to his death. He heard an unmistakable laugh coming from that room after Mr Sampson fell. Inspector – I have heard that laugh . . . at the Continental Club. It belonged to one of Tunnock’s group.’

‘Then we must go there immediately and arrest the man.’

‘For having a distinctive laugh? You have already said that these men will not talk to policemen. Let us assume for the time being that he will be there at my meeting – the trap – with Major Tunnock. Of more relevance at this moment is how we locate Persephone that we may discover more about the connection to Katherine. What have you got, Inspector?’

‘Very little. And I admit I am more confused than ever on this point. Persephone seemed initially to be an informant pointing us towards the perpetrators of a crime – now we discover that she is at the centre of some heretical sect or
cabal
that is killing prostitutes. What should I think?’

‘Perhaps that our letter writer is aware of the group and took that name knowing that we were bound to investigate it, thus uncovering the true criminals,’ offered Mr Williamson. ‘We have, after all, deduced she is intelligent and has uncommon knowledge.’

‘That is an intriguing idea, George, but does it help us? Who is she? Where is she? Is she as much a figure of fancy as her namesake?’

‘Fortunately, she is still watching us,’ said Noah.

‘What? Have you had further communication from Persephone?’ said Inspector Newsome.

‘At the British Museum reading room. A book was brought to me that I had not requested. This led me to a second book and there I found this note.’

He who helps

I see that you are aiding Mr Williamson in his endeavours. I do not know you, but I thank you.

You are exceptionally close to the solution of this case. I urge you to continue in the direction you are heading and you will find the killers of Katherine, Mr Sampson and the other girls.

I can tell you no more.

Persephone

 

An atmosphere of fevered cogitation took hold of the occupants of that room. Assuredly, some of them had already spent some time considering the note’s contents, but there was matter in it to occupy even the greatest investigator’s mind in relation to this most perplexing of cases.

‘So, Inspector – apply your detective skills to that,’ challenged Noah.

‘Firstly, have you reason to believe that this letter is from the same hand as the original?’

‘The paper and the hand are identical, though I admit that may mean nothing,’ said Mr Williamson.

‘All right. It is addressed to “He who helps”, which suggests she has been observing both of you since the first letter was delivered, but that she does not know Noah by name. However, she couldn’t have known you would be in the library that day in order to leave a message in a book.’

‘True,’ said Noah.

‘So we deduce that she, or one of her people, was following you and observing you in the library. Also, it is interesting that she makes a point of saying she does not know you, Mr Dyson . . . almost as if she
expects
to know everyone. And evidently she knows precisely where you are in your investigation to know that you are exceptionally close.’

‘Indeed,’ said Mr Williamson. ‘But I wonder at this word “exceptionally”. It is somewhat out of character with the terseness of the original letter. Is it, I wonder, a veiled clue: that we are close to the solution but
with one exception
– that we have one key detail wrong?’

BOOK: The Vice Society
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