Waves of black night clouded William’s mind. His jaw went numb. Was his mouth open or shut? His ears hummed, and voices boomed and receded like the shifting tides of the sea.
“Filthy little liar.” Hood’s knee crunched into his back. He released his grip, and William crashed to the floor again. Mucus and blood and tears smeared the wooden boards in slowly expanding puddles.
“Subtle techniques, that’s what we need to make him talk,” intoned The Chief. “Something to prolong the pain. Or we start on his servant. How much to make you squeal?”
“It’s the truth I’m telling you sir.”
William battled to stay conscious. He imagined Terrington as a piece of wreckage in a stormy sea, which he grasped with all his might to stay afloat.
“Isobel escaped from Parklands.”
Why did Terrington sound so far away?
“She headed for London. Someone’s with her. I lost their tracks in the storm. That’s why I came here sir, to tell Master.”
William prayed not to sink into darkness.
“He’s like a parrot,” shrieked Buffrey. “Repeating everything he’s told. Give him a nut!”
“The Master kept her at Parklands.”
Terrington’s persistence was praiseworthy. Keep talking, just keep talking.
“He wanted questions answered, but she escaped. She rode away and she saw me and hid in the forest.”
Hood’s snarl cut short Terrington’s measured narration. “And since you seem to know so much about it, what “questions” did William want answered? Do you know that? Eh? Eh?”
“Where she ran away to that first time, sir.”
“Liar!” Hood’s violence erupted with a shout, and William’s ears ached with pain.
“You know about the diamond don’t you?” Hood hammered.
“Yes sir, I do.”
“William gave it to Isobel to give to the Russians, didn’t he?”
“Begging your pardon sir, but the diamond was stolen.”
“Who’s a pretty boy then?” Buffrey mimicked a parrot’s high-pitched squeak.
“Two labourers, working at Parklands, took it from Master’s study.”
William eased his head up. The black waves that raced around him receded. His sight pulsed in and out of focus, but he didn’t think he was going to faint. Hood’s black leather patent boots gleamed, as if lit by moonlight, inches from his face. Their strange beauty contrasted oddly with their wearer’s anger.
“Didn’t you catch them? Too smart for the likes of you were they? Some servant!”
William forced his jaw to work. “We—caught one.” His tongue flopped like some unknown limb in his mouth. “But he didn’t—have the diamond.” He clutched hold of his burning stomach.
“You expect us to believe that?” The Chief’s brown brogues replaced Hood’s boots.
William twisted his body in an attempt to sit up, but the pain was too great. “The other,” he spluttered. “Had it, but escaped.”
“Same old story.” Hood’s boots were suddenly very close to his face. “I’ll make you talk.”
The Chief’s brogues stepped in front of Hood’s boots. “Terrington, you say that Isobel escaped from Parklands with someone’s help?”
“Yes sir. I found their marks.”
“And might this be the other brother, this Wolf person, or whatever he’s called?”
“Isobel has the diamond, I’m sure of it,” Buffrey stated.
“It is possible.” Terrington’s wary reply suggested caution. “One set of marks was bigger. I thought it was a man’s sir.”
The Chief asked; “How long ago did you see these marks?”
“Yesterday sir. I tracked them to the London Road outside Parklands, but the rain washed them away.”
“So, Isobel and this man might be on the road still?”
“It is possible sir. If they sheltered from the storm.”
“Well she won’t come here.” Hood walked towards the window. “She’ll head straight for Bedlam to look for James.”
William stretched out a hand to reach for his chair, but The Chief knocked it aside and flopped into the soft leather upholstery. “Doctor Hood tells me that you followed Isobel once before, when William found out about The Classical Beauties. Is that right?”
“Yes sir,” replied Terrington.
“So you know where she went, and saw the people she met?”
“I only saw her with the girls, and that James Turney sir.”
“If I sent you out to look for her now, would you be able to find her do you think?”
“Let him go?” Hood accompanied his incredulity with a stamp of his boot. “He’ll go straight to the Russians.”
“I think we may have a better chance of catching her with him on her tail, don’t you?” The Chief suggested.
“It’s too risky,” Buffrey shouted. “He might expose us all.”
“If you want me to go and look for her sir, I will.” Terrington delivered this declaration with quiet authority.
“Shut up!” Hood’s patience cracked.
“How do I know that I can trust you Terrington?” The Chief’s brusque question dared him to lie.
“I don’t know any Russians sir.”
“Likely story,” guffawed Buffrey.
The Chief persisted; “Would you do this for me?”
“If I find Isobel sir, you won’t hurt Master?”
“What?” Hood exploded. “That’s blackmail, the downright nerve of the man. How dare you suggest such a thing?”
“I give you my word that I only work for you.”
Terrington lied, William knew that. Perhaps he had a plan? He trusted his servant, respected his loyalty, desperately hoped for his help. He pushed himself upright, so that he was half-lying, half-sitting. His stomach cramps subsided into a dull ache. His view of the study became clearer.
“Don’t listen to him Chief,” argued Hood. “It’s not him making the rules here.”
“You’re in no position to help your Master now,” The Chief stated. “William’s fate is no concern of yours. But if you want to help—Master, then you come and work for us. Do you understand?” The Chief emphasised each word, so that there would be no misunderstanding. “I want you to go out, into London, to find Isobel, and bring her back to me. Will you do that? Can I trust you with this task? If you succeed, I promise you fifty guineas.”
“I will do what you ask of me sir, if Master is not hurt.”
“Get out!” Hood grabbed Terrington and forced him against the bookcase. “You dirty little servant.” He attempted a headbutt, but Terrington ducked, and Hood’s face smashed into the wooden shelves.
The Chief sprang up. “Wait Hood.” He pulled the Doctor away.
“Fight! Fight!” Buffrey whirled his arms round and round, like a clockwork toy.
The Chief gripped Hood’s shoulders as he tried to calm him. “I know this sounds foolish, but it is the only way that offers us some small chance of retrieving the diamond, and maintaining our anonymity.”
“Not if he squawks.” Hood shook his head and blinked. A red mark appeared on his forehead.
“It is a risk, I know that. But don’t you think it a wasted opportunity if we didn’t attempt it? He knows her, and he knows where to look. He has a much greater chance of catching her then we do.”
Hood twisted free and stumbled across to the window.
The Chief sighed. “Buffrey?”
“If you say so Chief.”
“Very well. Terrington, come here.” The Chief extracted a sheaf of folded parchments from the inside pocket of his frock coat, and spread them out on the desk. He picked out a yellow sheet from the bottom of the pile and held it up.
“This is a Pass. You will need it when you come to see me. Buffrey?”
The Judge opened the leather satchel that hung from his shoulder, and handed him a quill and a small silver inkpot.