Such Thoughts were heavy upon me when I enlarged upon my new Work to the Commission thus: We desire the Honble. Board to know that the Walls of the Bloomsbury Church are complete and all is prepar'd for the Plaisterers; it will be proper that they begin the Ceilings and Walls during the best of the Winter, that the Work be thoroughly dry before any Frost take it. The Church is bounded by Russell Street to the North, Queen Street to the West, and to the South-east Blooms bury Market; this area being very populous in the months of Summer, the Fields being close by, what Preparations are to be made for outside Doors so that the Church may be shut from the Rabble? The West Tower is advanc'd about 25 or 28 Feet above the Roof of the Church, and I will place upon that my Historical Pillar which will be of square Form and built with rough Stone. (And this I do not add: on the Apex of this Shaft will be placed the sevenedged Starre which is the Eye of God. The Empereur Constantine set up a Pillar at Rome as big as this, in one Stone, and placed the Sunne on the Sumit of it. But that parhelion or false Sunne was forced to leave Shineing: my Fabrick will last 1000 yeares, and the Starre will not be extinguish'd.) I also humbly offer to the Commissioners the following account of the present state of the Church of Greenwich, viz. the Stonework on the South side and part of the East and West End is advanc'd about four feet above the level of last year's Work, and the Masons have a good Quantity of Stone wrought to cany on the side next the Street. (And this I keep conceal'd: Dr Flamsteed, the Astronomer Royal and a man of snivelling covetous Temper, predicts a total Eclipse of the Sunne on the date 22 April 1715: at that dark Time, when the Birds flock to the Trees and the People carry Candles in their Houses, will I lay the last Stone secretly and make the Sacrifice due.) Further, I have been ordered by the Honble. Board to prepare and lay before the Commissioners a particular Estimate of the charge in building the Church of Little St Hugh in Black Step Lane. I have examined the Prices proposed and find them the same with the Churches of Limehouse and Wapping. The parts of Land shaded with a faint Brown are granted already, and the parcels of Land in private Hands are shaded Yellow. The vacant Ground in the Front is worth 3 pounds per annum and at 20 years purchase of 60 pounds; the Buildings backwards are let at 72 pounds per annum at six years purchase and worth 432 Pounds, viz. the Tobacconist, the Tallow Chandler, the Pewterers and the Weavers. These are washed with Blew. All of which is humbly submitted, N. Dyer.
And across these mean Dwellings of Black Step Lane, where as a Boy I dwell'd for a while, the Shaddowe of my last Church will falclass="underline" what the Mobb has torn down I will build again in Splendour. And thus will I compleet the Figure: Spittle-Fields, Wapping and Lime- house have made the Triangle; Bloomsbury and St Mary Woolnoth have next created the major Pentacle-starre; and, with Greenwich, all these will form the Sextuple abode of Baal-Berith or the Lord of the Covenant. Then, with the church of Little St Hugh, the Septilateral Figure will rise about Black Step Lane and, in this Pattern, every Straight line is enrich'd with a point at Infinity and every Plane with a line at Infinity. Let him that has Understanding count the Number: the seven Churches are built in conjunction with the seven Planets in the lower Orbs of Heaven, the seven Circles of the Heavens, the seven Starres in Ursa Minor and the seven Starres in the Pleiades. Little St Hugh was flung in the Pitte with the seven Marks upon his Hands, Feet, Sides and Breast which thus exhibit the seven Demons -Beyde lus, Metucgayn, Adulée, Demeymes, Gadix, Uquizuz and Sol. I have built an everlasting Order, which I may run through laughing: no one can catch me now.
AND HAWKSMOOR laughed at this. 'You can see things in whatever order you want, Walter, and we'll still catch him.
He's cunning, though.' Then he pointed at his own head.
'He's very cunning.'
'Time will tell, sir.'
Time will not tell. Time never tells.' Once more he raised his arm involuntarily, as if in greeting. 'So let's start again. Where were the bodies found?'
They were found at St Alfege's, Greenwich, and at St George's, Bloomsbury.'
Hawksmoor noticed that the sky had cleared quite suddenly, going from grey to blue like an eye which had suddenly opened. 'And what was the order again?'
'One after another, within a few hours.'
The report said that it could have been minutes.'
'Minutes is impossible, sir.'
'No, we can't deal in minutes.' And yet what might happen in a minute, when his back was turned? He looked down at the pattern of dust on the carpet and, as he did so, he heard the noises within his head like the sounds of a crowd roaring in the distance. When he looked up, Walter was talking again.
'What I can -well I can't -1 mean, we have nothing positive off the paperwork.' And they both looked at the documents scattered across Hawksmoor's desk. 'I can't believe,' Walter continued, 'I can't believe it.' And he picked up the forensic report on the two most recent murders. Both victims had been strangled with a ligature which had not been tied -there was no mark of a knot, at least -but had been held tight for at least fifteen to twenty seconds at an unusually high level in the neck. The ligature was evidently a folded hard cloth of some kind, set in four distinct lines across the front of the neck. The marks extended around the sides, especially the right, but faded at the back, showing that both victims had been strangled from behind on the left.
In spite of the closest possible examination of the cuticle, the pathologist was unable to detect any weave or pattern that would reflect the actual structure of the ligature. Exhaustive forensic tests had also failed to identify any prints, marks or stains which might be connected with the perpetrator of these actions.
Two days before Hawksmoor had crossed the Thames in a police launch to Greenwich, and as he came up to the dock he leaned forward over the side and allowed his index finger to trail in the oily water. He walked from the harbour and, catching sight of a church tower, turned down a small alley which seemed to lead in that direction. Almost at once he found himself surrounded by small shops in which there was very little light: they were of an old design, leaning forward over the pavement, and in his confusion he hurried down another lane only to stop short when the stone wall of the church apparently blocked off the end; but this was an illusion since a child then walked across it, singing. And at last Hawksmoor emerged into the street, just in time to see the church rising above him. He calmed himself by reading the gold script painted upon a board by the portico: This church was built on the traditional site of the martyrdom of Alfege. It was rebuilt by…'. His eyes wandered down the elaborate scroll, but such things bored him and he was distracted by a flight of birds returning to the branches of a single tree, each bird distinct against the winter sky.
He walked around the side of the church where a group of police officers waited for him -from the way they stood, self-consciously talking in low voices, Hawksmoor knew that the body was behind them on the grass. He walked over and, in those first moments when he was staring down at it, he wondered how he would look to the strangers who encircled his own corpse; and would the breath have left his body like a mist, or like the air evacuated from a paper bag which a child blows up and then explodes? Then he returned to the others: 'What time was he found?'
'At six o'clock this morning, sir, when it was still dark.'
'Do we know '
'He might have fallen from the tower, sir. But nobody knows.'
Hawksmoor looked up at the spire of St Alfege's and, when he blotted out the sun with his right hand, he noticed the white dome of the Observatory which was half concealed by the dark stone of the church. And he remembered that there was something here which he had heard of many years before, and which he had always wanted to see. Eventually he was able to break free from the others, muttering his excuses, and when he came to the foot of the hill he began to run, bounding over the short grass until he reached the summit.