Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
GOVERNOR THOMSON LOOKED UP FROM HIS PLATE of kippered herring in astonishment as Haydon marched into his dining room.
“Forgive me for interrupting your breakfast, madam,” Haydon apologized, graciously bowing toward Governor Thomson’s flaccid-faced wife, “but your husband and I have a serious matter to attend to that simply will not wait. I do hope you will accept my sincerest apologies for stealing him away from your lovely presence at such an unearthly hour.”
Janet Thomson was a stout little melon-shaped woman whose face was screwed into a perpetual expression of pained disapproval.
As prison matron, she continuously found ample reason to feel vastly superior to most of the world around her, and it was only by virtue of her deep religious convictions that she felt there was any hope for humanity at all.
She was a pragmatic woman who had accepted at an early age the severe limitations of her lack of physical beauty, and saw her union with her husband and her life at the prison as little more than a trial by God, for which she expected to be duly rewarded by receiving a particularly exalted place in the hereafter.
Her moral resolve did not mean, however, that she was above being titillated by a morsel of feminine flattery, particularly when it was offered by such an uncommonly handsome man.
“Mr. Blake,” she cooed, as Haydon pressed his lips to the solid bulk of her hand, “it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure is all mine, madam,” Haydon assured her.
“I am so sorry to hear about your wife’s ward,” she continued, looking appropriately aggrieved.
“I have spent some time talking to Charlotte since her return to our prison, and I have found her to be a generally sensible girl, despite the obvious low moral character of her father. After nearly a lifetime spent working with those who have fallen from the path of righteousness, I have learned that the wicked turbulence of the blood cannot be bridled by mere charity. ‘The righteous shall be preserved forever, but the children of the wicked shall be cut off.’ Your wife is, of course, certainly to be commended for her efforts.”
“Thank you.” Haydon barely restrained the urge to tell her to keep her damn theories on wickedness to herself.
“My wife and I are firm believers in the essential goodness of children, and so far, we have not been disappointed. It is to your husband’s credit that he has shown both wisdom and compassion in the past by bringing these lost children to my wife’s attention—especially when he seeks no reward other than the salvation of the child.
It must be spiritually uplifting to share one’s life and work with such a selfless and dedicated man.
” His voice was edged with contempt, which completely eluded Mrs. Thomson’s notice.
“Oh, it is indeed,” Mrs. Thomson agreed, thoroughly pleased that a well-bred man of such obvious moral character was praising her husband.
“My husband and I may be far from rich, Mr. Blake, but God has charged us with the difficult task of trying to help these poor sinners find the road to piety. ‘Trust in the Lord and do good; so you will dwell in the land, and enjoy security. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.’ Our wealth is in the work we do and the respect we have earned over so many years within our community.”
“A most admirable philosophy,” commended Haydon. “One can only hope that nothing ever happens to erode that community respect. It would be nothing short of tragic if you were to find a lifetime of work destroyed.”
Mrs. Thomson permitted herself a confused half smile. “Whatever do you mean, sir?”
“I am certain Mr. Blake is merely making conjecture for the sake of discussion,” interjected Governor Thomson hastily. “Aren’t you, Mr. Blake?”
“I must say, you have some very handsome pieces in here, Governor Thomson,” Haydon remarked, ignoring his question.
He paused to examine a magnificent gold clock positioned on the mantel.
“What a glorious antique—it’s Swiss, isn’t it?
Looks to me like it’s from the early eighteenth century.
A truly exceptional work. Is it a family heirloom? ”
“Oh gracious, no,” answered Mrs. Thomson. “I’m proud to say that both my husband and I come from very modest beginnings, sir. That clock was purchased by my husband just last year, during a trip we made to Edinburgh.”
Haydon arched his brow. “How very interesting.”
Governor Thomson pushed his plate of cold kippers away. “Would you excuse us for a moment, my dear? It seems Mr. Blake and I have some business to discuss.”
“I promise not to detain your husband overly long.” Haydon gallantly assisted Mrs. Thomson as she rose from her chair. “As a newly married man, I understand how time weighs heavily when one is separated from one’s lovely wife.”
Color flooded Mrs. Thomson’s cheeks. “Of course, Mr. Blake,” she said, her hand flitting at her throat as she regarded him with girlish infatuation. “I do hope we shall have the pleasure of a visit from you again. Good day to you, sir.”
“Get your hat and coat,” Haydon ordered curtly the instant she was gone. “You are coming with me to see Sheriff Trotter.”
Governor Thomson scratched his gray beard in nervous confusion. “Why?”
“You are going to support the appeal that I am about to make to him to reverse his decision yesterday to send my eleven-year-old daughter to prison and reformatory school. You are going to tell him that in all your years of work as a prison governor, you have never known a more exemplary prisoner. You are going to tell him that you take particular interest in Charlotte’s case because she is such a sweet and virtuous child, and that having known her personally from when she was first imprisoned over a year ago, you are astounded by the positive changes in her since she has been in my wife’s tender care.
You are going to tell him that Charlotte is the very model of morality and obedience, and that given these attributes, combined with the unfortunate state of her health, you cannot in good conscience condone her spending any more time in your prison.
You will confess that your prison is torturously cold and damp and foul, and that Charlotte is at risk of falling victim to any one of a series of deadly conditions should she remain under its roof even one more night.
You shall make it sound as if she could expire at any moment, Governor Thomson, and you will tell Sheriff Trotter that if she dies, it is he and not yourself whom the public will hold accountable. ”
Governor Thomson stared at him with bulging eyes, completely flabbergasted. “I can’t do that!” he sputtered.
“You can and you will,” Haydon assured him in a tight, savage voice.
“And if by the end of our discussion with the sheriff you have not managed to convince him to alter his sentence and return Charlotte to the custody of my wife and myself, I will go straight to the newspaper and alert them that there needs to be a thorough investigation of the prison at once. I will tell them of the abuses that go on in this place—from the beatings and torments doled out by Warder Sims to the foul water, insufficient food that a dog wouldn’t eat, vermin-ridden uniforms and bedclothes, freezing dark cells with chamber pots overflowing with filth—”
“That isn’t true!”
“Actually, I have a firsthand account. Jack spent time in your festering sewer just a couple of weeks ago, and he has enlightened my wife and myself on many of its less ingratiating points.”
“My prison is a model of modernity,” Governor Thomson retaliated defensively. “I’ll have you know it is run in accordance with the recommendations of the Inspector of Prisons for Scotland!”
“Then you won’t mind an inspection being conducted by the newspaper this very afternoon, including a thorough analysis of your financial register.
” Haydon picked up a handsomely wrought sterling silver carving knife and turned it over in his hands.
“I suspect the people of Inveraray would be very interested to know just exactly how much you earn, Governor. It might give them cause to wonder how you are able to afford such lavish furnishings. I know my wife has some fascinating insight on that subject, which, if Charlotte is not safely restored to us by the end of the day, I shall feel obliged to share with Sheriff Trotter and the Prison Board.”
Governor Thomson’s face blanched. “If you will just permit me to fetch my coat, I shall be pleased to express my opinion to Sheriff Trotter on the matter of your daughter, Mr. Blake. The prison system can barely afford to support the inmates already within its confines, and is certainly not a fitting place for a gentle young lady of delicate health.” He deposited his linen napkin beside his plate of cold kippers and stood.
Haydon nodded with satisfaction.
GENEVIEVE PUT DOWN HER PEN AND PRESSED THE heels of her hands hard against the hot, aching sockets of her eyes.