Chapter 12 #2
‘Exactly,’ Harry replied. ‘The kind of strength one might expect from the self-proclaimed strongest man on earth.’ She returned her attention to Inspector Wells.
‘If you hurry, you should be able to catch Cuthbert’s Travelling Circus before it leaves London Fields.
Their strongman performs as Hercules Jones, although I don’t imagine that’s his actual name.
And the hair in that paper is the exact shade worn by Angelique, an escapologist I saw perform this afternoon.
She claims there isn’t a lock in the world that can resist her. ’
Inspector Wells gave her a penetrating stare. ‘The circus?’
‘The circus,’ Harry confirmed. ‘If we’re really lucky, you may even find the Sora-Sora diamond there, although I’m more inclined to think Solomon Pole the pawnbroker has that.’
There was a brief silence as the inspector processed the flurry of new information. ‘Pole’s shop has been known to Scotland Yard for some time,’ she said, frowning. ‘But we’ve never been able to pin anything on him. What makes you think he’s involved with the theft?’
‘Hercules Jones was moonlighting for him as an enforcer when I visited the shop,’ Harry said. ‘I confess I have no hard evidence Pole is involved with the theft but there’s definitely a connection between him and the circus. I suspect he may be the mastermind of the operation.’
Oliver became very still. ‘You think he’s Moriarty?’
The name caused Harry to hesitate, recalling the almost palpable sense of villainy that had emanated from Solomon Pole.
He had been greedy and cunning, eager to take advantage of the desperation of his customers and quick to fall back on the threat of physical violence.
At first sight, she had imagined him as a Dickensian crook, but he might just as easily have stepped from the pages of an Arthur Conan Doyle adventure.
And yet Harry felt a niggle of doubt. Holmes described Moriarty as an elusive puppet master, one who inhabited a world far removed from the dark deeds he orchestrated.
He never dirtied his hands by committing the crimes himself.
If the criminal who had planned this crime had modelled himself on the fictional character of Moriarty, it seemed unlikely he would have left a trail of breadcrumbs for Scotland Yard to follow.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted with a sigh.
‘But if Pole isn’t Moriarty then he may know who is. ’
The inspector puffed out her cheeks, her expression suddenly subdued. ‘I doubt we’ll find the diamond, in any case. It will have been broken up into smaller stones by now.’
‘You might be surprised,’ Harry said. ‘Whoever Moriarty is, he appears to view crime as something of a game. The theft of the diamond was simply have been a move, not his ultimate goal.’
‘Perhaps,’ Inspector Wells conceded. ‘We’ll see what this strongman and the escapologist have to say. I’ll gather my officers and go there now.’
Harry got to her feet. ‘I’ll come too.’
‘Absolutely not.’ Oliver and Inspector Wells spoke at the same time.
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Oliver went on, his brows furrowed. ‘Especially since it seems Jones recognised you at the circus. You’ve done all you can. Leave the rest to the police.’
Inspector Wells nodded, equally implacable.
‘This is not a detective novel, Miss Smith. While I am grateful for your help, Scotland Yard is not in the habit of involving civilians in their arrest and interrogation of suspects. I am grateful for your help to this point but you may leave the remainder to my officers and me.’
Seeing Harry’s mulish expression, Oliver placed a hand on her arm. ‘Moriarty expects you to leave your King exposed but you’re too clever for that. Step back now and let Scotland Yard finish the job.’
Harry swallowed a groan of frustration. It made sense, she knew it did, but the impulse to confront Hercules and Angelique and observe their guilt for herself was hard to quell. ‘What if I’m wrong?’
‘All the more reason to remain in the wings,’ he said, and raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think you’re wrong?’
She ran through everything she had learned, the leads she had followed and threads she had connected, the grooves from the rope and the red hair that had been caught between the floorboards.
Everything pointed in one direction and if she had learned anything from Sherlock Holmes, it was to follow the evidence. She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Then leave it to Inspector Wells.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘I’m sure we shall read about her brilliance in the papers once the case is wrapped up.’
There was wisdom in his counsel, Harry knew.
It often happened this way for Holmes, and he was content to let the police capture the criminals, but she couldn’t help feeling somewhat disappointed that she would not see for herself whether the missing diamond was where she predicted.
On the positive side, she would not have to endure the vulturous gaze of Solomon Pole again, although she would have liked to have watched his expression as she reclaimed the charm bracelet he had all but stolen.
‘I wish you good hunting, Inspector Wells.’
The inspector’s smile was hard and glittering. ‘You may depend upon it, Miss Smith. Once the prey is in my sights, I never miss my mark.’
Harry was woken from sleep by an insistent hand upon her shoulder, shaking her gently until her eyes flew open.
It took her a moment to absorb that someone stood beside her, and several seconds more to realise that the person illuminated in the half-light from the open door was Beth.
Sitting up, her heart thudding from being awoken so abruptly, Harry reached for the bedside lamp and peered at the other woman, taking in her apprehensive expression. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Come through to the living room,’ Beth said, her expression inscrutable. ‘I’ll brew some tea.’
She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Harry lay back against the pillows. The time on her bedside clock showed it was just past midnight.
While she had thought it possible that Beth might return to Hamilton Square after her reconnaissance mission at the Hot Spot, she had not anticipated she would feel the need to wake her. Something must have happened.
In the soft light from the single table lamp in the living room, Harry saw Beth wore the same dress she’d worn on her previous visit to the nightclub.
The hem was sodden, she observed, and crusted with dirt, suggesting it had started to rain sometime after she and Oliver had said goodnight and gone their separate ways.
A pair of grubby, water-stained satin shoes sat beside the still glowing hearth.
Harry frowned. ‘Did you walk all the way from Soho?’
Beth looked up from the kettle. ‘No. But it took me a while to find a cab I liked the look of.’ She sniffed. ‘He still tried to charge me an arm and a leg. I think he was a bit surprised when I told him where to get off.’
Harry couldn’t prevent a smile as she settled on the settee. ‘Good for you.’
‘And don’t worry about the shoes,’ Beth said. ‘I know a trick that’ll bring them up as good as new.’
‘Your shoes are the least of my concerns,’ Harry replied, taking in her set expression and the stiffness in her shoulders. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. Did something untoward happen tonight?’
Beth lifted the tea tray and brought it to where Harry waited.
‘You could say that,’ she said, grimacing as she reached down to massage her stockinged feet.
‘I went to the club, like we planned, only it turned out Serafina weren’t working.
She’d called in with a headache or some such, according to the lads around the back.
Bang went my excuse for being there, but I thought I might be able to do some digging all the same, if I could get inside. ’
‘How did you manage that?’ Harry asked curiously.
‘I got a bit lucky there,’ Beth admitted. ‘I couldn’t sweet talk my way in through the staff entrance so I went round to the front, to try my hand with the old girl who keeps the door. And who should I meet on Gerrard Street but your friend Mr Finchem.’
It was the last name Harry had expected to hear. ‘Percy?’
‘The very same,’ Beth confirmed. ‘He remembered my name, asked about my plans for the evening and invited me to join his party.’
Harry blinked. ‘That was lucky. How did he get you past Nell?’
She shrugged. ‘Gave a false name, same as your brother. Millicent Hendry, as I recall. I had a squint at the book when I signed – seems he had quite the party planned. The table was the biggest there – Albert nearly scraped his nose on the floor he bowed so low. Except he wasn’t called Albert this time – his name was Jacques, if you please. ’
That wasn’t a surprise – Harry imagined he adopted a different name every night of the week. It was a code, to protect the premises from unwanted visitors. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Was Seb there?’
‘I didn’t see him if he was. But Percy didn’t leave me alone long enough to do much nosing around.
He introduced me to all his friends, wouldn’t hear of me paying for any drinks and kept topping up my glass.
’ She sighed with evident regret. ‘I had to tip a lot of champagne on the floor when he weren’t looking. ’
Harry tried not to wince, despite being impressed by her guile. ‘It sounds as though he was very attentive.’
‘Oh, he was quite the charmer,’ Beth said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I can see why you like him. But it turns out he only wanted me for one thing.’
Instantly, Harry’s heart plummeted. ‘Oh, no,’ she murmured, her hand covering Beth’s. ‘He didn’t—’
‘Not that thing,’ Beth said, throwing her an amused glance. ‘Trust me, I know how to dampen a man’s ardour when he gets a bit fresh, and gentlemen are just as tender as dockers.’