To no great surprise, Pyke discovered that the waterman had long since abandoned his post. The dockers had regrouped and Rowbottom was pointing them in Pyke’s direction. He couldn’t risk fighting his way through to the main entrance and he didn’t doubt that if the injured foreman got hold of him now, the man would kill him. He stared out at the vast expanse of river. A few seconds later, as he hit the cold, dirty water, feet first, the air rushed from his lungs and he felt himself sink under the surface.
Struggling to remain afloat, Pyke wriggled out of his coat and trod water for long enough to remove his boots. Above him, on the wharf, the men had arrived and were peering over the edge, but Pyke had already swum thirty yards out into the Thames and had drifted another hundred with the current. Keeping his mouth closed, because he didn’t want to swallow the foul-smelling water, he put his head down and kicked with his legs, wondering whether he had enough strength left to make it to the other side.
NINE
At five o’clock that afternoon, Pyke presented himself to one of the uniformed clerks inside the ‘A’ Division building in Whitehall and was led immediately up the stone steps to an airy, high-ceilinged room on the first floor where Fitzroy Tilling, Sir Richard Mayne, Benedict Pierce and, as it turned out, William Alefounder were all waiting for him.
They couldn’t have heard about the fire at the West India Dock already. Anyway, his landlady had told him that the note from Tilling, summoning him to this meeting, had been delivered to his garret some time that morning.
They barely looked up as he crossed the room to the only available chair, as though his presence were an irritation that had to be tolerated. Tilling ignored Pyke entirely. Pierce sat between Tilling and Alefounder with his arms folded. All of them were facing Mayne, the commissioner, their chairs arranged in a semicircle around his desk, as if they needed to be reminded who was in charge.
‘Gentlemen, perhaps we could make a start,’ Mayne said, glancing down at his watch and then in Pyke’s direction for the first time. ‘I believe we all know each other so I’ll dispense with the formalities.’ He turned to Pyke. ‘I thank you for coming, sir, and I shouldn’t need to add that you’ve been invited as a courtesy, a goodwill gesture, in the hope that we can resolve whatever differences exist between us and put an end to all the nonsense.’
Mayne was a suave, distinguished man in his middle forties, with a full head of dark hair, a pair of mutton-chop sideburns, a lantern jaw, and a patrician air that suggested he didn’t suffer fools gladly.
‘I don’t want anything from you.’ Pyke cast a quick glance at Tilling. ‘I just want to be left alone.’
‘Left alone to peddle these ridiculous stories in that rag of a newspaper?’ Mayne shot a stern look at Tilling. ‘Look, Fitzroy made a mistake contracting your services but at the time our resources were being pulled in a different direction. That said, having discussed you at length with Sir Robert Peel earlier today, I can understand why Fitzroy turned to you. To my surprise, Sir Robert made a compelling case in your defence. So now I want to put it all behind us and press ahead with the important business of finding out who killed this woman. And I want to reassure you that we are more than able to conduct the investigation ourselves.’
For now it was all smiles and kind words, but if Pyke persisted in his current course of action, he was sure the smiles would disappear.
‘I’m listening.’
‘Splendid,’ Mayne said, directing his remarks at Tilling. ‘You see? We’ve made progress already.’ When Tilling didn’t answer, Mayne continued, ‘I’m sorry to say an unfortunate incident was reported to me yesterday. It seems you made some rather wild, and entirely unfounded, accusations against Mr Alefounder and I want to put an end to that as well.
‘And that’s why you’ve summoned Alefounder to your office, to interrogate him?’
‘ Mr Alefounder came of his own accord, as soon as he’d learned from you that a crime had been committed, but no one will be interrogating him, as you so colourfully put it.’
‘So you want to reassure me about Alefounder’s good character…’
‘Indeed,’ Mayne said carefully, trying to work out whether Pyke was mocking him. ‘And warn you about the very severe consequences, should you continue to pester him or, for that matter, besmirch his good name in the press.’
‘If he’s as innocent as you claim he is, what reason would I have for trying to besmirch his name?’
Mayne looked at Alefounder and offered a reassuring smile. ‘I have it on impeccable authority that Mr Alefounder’s character is second to none.’
‘Then perhaps you could tell me why he knowingly lied to me yesterday in his office in front of a room full of witnesses?’
That took the wind out of the commissioner’s sails. ‘Eh?’ It was as though he hadn’t actually heard what Pyke had just said.
‘Yesterday he told me he’d never set eyes on Mary Edgar. But then I found out that he went in person to meet her ship when it arrived at the West India Dock on the twenty-fourth of April. He even argued with her on the quayside in front of the whole crew.’
Mayne’s stare was opaque. He wetted his lips and looked across at William Alefounder. ‘This man isn’t a suspect. What he may or may not have told you yesterday has no bearing on the murder investigation.’
This time Pyke addressed Alefounder directly. ‘You knew Mary Edgar well enough to meet her ship and argue with her in public. That makes you a suspect, irrespective of whether you lied to me or not.’
But it was Mayne who answered. ‘I want to make something quite clear, Pyke. We have questioned Mr Alefounder at length about his involvement in this matter and we are perfectly happy to rule him out as a suspect. That is all you need to know.’
‘Where did you go after you left the docks?’ Pyke said to Alefounder, ignoring Mayne’s warning. He knew he was pushing his luck but he simply didn’t care.
‘I’ve said all I’m going to say to these gentlemen,’ Alefounder said, pointing at Pierce and Mayne. He didn’t seem to be including Tilling in this coterie, and Pyke wondered what this said about Tilling’s status as a result of the piece in the Examiner.
‘One way or another I’ll find out why you lied to me, Alefounder.’
‘Didn’t I make myself clear?’ Mayne interrupted. ‘This man doesn’t have to answer or justify himself in any way to you; I’ll ask you to refrain from making threatening remarks as well.’
‘It stinks that you’re absolving him of any responsibility in this matter just because he’s wealthy and has connections.’
‘ That’s it,’ Mayne said, looking at Tilling. ‘Get this man out of here and escort him from the building.’
Tilling gave Mayne a look that said: I told you so. Alefounder said nothing and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
Outside, in the corridor, Pyke felt a tug on his arm, and turned around. Fitzroy Tilling’s face was as tight as a drum. ‘Bravo, Pyke, I thought you handled yourself with enormous tact.’
‘Alefounder lied and he’s been given a pat on the back. If he was poor or a valet, he’d be rotting in prison by now.’