‘Of course,’ said Ravenscroft rising to his feet. ‘Thank you for talking to me — and you are?’
‘Ruth Weston, sir.’
‘Well, Mrs Weston, perhaps we may-’
‘Miss, sir. Miss Weston.’
‘I’m sorry. Miss Weston. I have enjoyed our conversation. Perhaps we might talk together again?’
‘Yes, I am generally here at this time each morning. I hope you find Mr Evelyn.’
‘Good day to you, Miss Weston,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Arthur, come here. It is time for school.’
Ravenscroft resumed his seat and watched the woman taking her child’s hand. He followed them with his eyes as they left the cathedral grounds. He resolved to call upon the Member of Parliament in the near future. Perhaps someone in the household might have additional information regarding Evelyn and the night in question. The more he learned about the reclusive librarian, the more the man intrigued him. Evelyn had appeared to have lived such a dull existence, almost to the point of boredom. What had then suddenly driven a man of such regular, sober habits, to commit a deed which seemed so alien to his whole personality? What force could have caused such a dramatic change?
‘You look deep in thought, sir.’
‘Ah, Crabb, I did not see you there,’ said Ravenscroft, looking up at his constable.
‘I trust you slept well at the Cardinal’s Hat?’
‘Not particularly well, thank you. But what news of the keys we recovered from the body?’
‘They appear to fit both the doors to the library, and the cases. No doubt about it: they were Evelyn’s keys all right,’ answered Crabb, taking his seat beside Ravenscroft.
‘It was just as we supposed. I have just been talking with the parlour maid who works in that house over there, a Ruth Weston, who apparently resides in the same lodging house as our friend Evelyn. She describes him as being a very lonely man of regular habits, who entertained no one, and who kept very much to himself.’
‘Seems to confirm very much what the dean and the choirmaster said.’
‘We need to find out where the librarian went to that night, after he left the cathedral. I took a walk along the towpath this morning, and I am convinced that when he went down the steps, he turned left and made his way in the direction of the canal. There is an inn on the way, where he might have met someone. I want you to spend the morning interviewing people at the inn to see if they saw anything that night.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘Then I want you to go further along the towpath, to where the river and the canal join. If there are any barges there, interview the occupants — see if they saw anything on the night he disappeared. Then meet me back here at one o’clock.’
‘Yes, sir. And where will you be?’
‘I think it is about time I called on Dr Silas Renfrew, to find out more about this missing book. Perhaps he might be able to tell us more about Nicholas Evelyn, and why he suddenly chose to steal the Whisperie.’
INTERLUDE
LONDON
‘You appear to have done well, Monk,’ said the woman in black, leaning forward in the darkness, straining to catch a glance of the man from beyond the candle.
‘It was not difficult. I just had to wait my time. I knew she would be easy,’ replied the voice in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.
‘You made sure that no one saw you?’ she asked anxiously.
‘I would not be sitting here now, had I not been so careful,’ he retorted.
‘I am sorry. I should not have questioned your ability in this matter,’ she said quickly, anxious not to cause offence. ‘Tell me how it was done?’
‘Bucks Row; it was dark. She was easy. I held her head back against the wall, then I drew the blade across her throat,’ he said without emotion.
‘The papers said you slashed her stomach?’
‘You object to my methods?’
‘No, of course not; that wretched woman deserved to die,’ she replied bitterly. ‘Tell me, did she cry out, or express any words of remorse before she died?’
‘Women like that know nothing of remorse. I squeezed her throat; looked into her eyes and saw the fear there; she had no chance to speak.’
‘I see. I would have liked some atonement,’ she said, sadly.
‘The woman must have hurt you a great deal,’ he stated.
‘I told you there were to be no questions regarding my motives in this concern,’ she said quickly, becoming annoyed by his enquiries. ‘It is enough for you to know that the woman gravely wronged my family sometime in the past. Now she has paid the ultimate price. You have kept your side of the bargain. That is all I could have asked for. Now, I will fulfil my obligation. Here are the twenty sovereigns we agreed upon.’
She placed the small bag of coins down on the table, expecting a hand to emerge from the darkness of the room to take up the reward.
‘You do not count the coins?’ she asked presently, wondering why he had not taken it.
‘I have no cause to doubt your word. I trust our arrangement. There is only one thing that concerns me.’
‘Ask.’
‘You addressed me as Monk. That is not my name.’
‘I would not expect you to go by your real name,’ she said.
‘It is a name of convenience,’ he laughed.
‘I know what it is like to assume another identity, to slip unnoticed into the shadows, to observe, and yet not be seen.’
‘You must never ask who I am, or ask to see my face, if our work is to continue.’
‘That is agreed,’ she replied, observing the determination and threat within his voice.
‘I prefer the dark. You need have no fear that anyone will ever see me. The police are stupid; they will never catch me. I have a number of disguises — and I know the alleyways and backstreets better than any of them. I will always be long away, before they even discover my handiwork. I am well aware of your inner desires, my dear lady. I know your secret and true purpose. There will be no betrayal on my part.’
She found something both frightening and reassuring about the coldness and precision of his voice.
‘But should you ever attempt to see my features, discover my true identity, or even try to follow me, you will know that our arrangement will end, and that I will take all available steps to protect myself. It will be as though you had never lived. No one will have known of your existence. I trust I make myself clear on this point?’
‘Of course, your identity is of little concern to me,’ she replied, growing concerned by the increasing anger in his voice.
‘Then we are two of a kind. You seek to conceal your identity beneath your veil, whilst I prefer the darkness of the shadows. You and I are in great need of each other.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You said there would be others?’
‘I have the name of your next victim.’
‘She is of the same tendency?’ he asked.
‘Yes, she is a common prostitute. Her name is Chapman. Annie Chapman.’
‘And where is this Chapman to be found?’
‘She usually resides at Crossinghams — when she has earned enough from her casual encounters, to pay for her bed for the night. It is a cheap lodging house. You will find it situated in Dorset Street.’
‘I know of the place. I must congratulate you upon your research,’ he replied, a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice.
‘I do not need your words of false encouragement,’ she said.
‘The sum will increase this time,’ he said suddenly, ignoring her last remark.
‘Of course, I will pay you forty sovereigns when you have carried out the deed. I trust that is a satisfactory arrangement?’
‘It will suffice.’
‘This time I will pay you an extra ten sovereigns, if you can carry out an additional service,’ she said, slowly sensing his greed, and drawing closer to the candle, so that she could almost feel the warmth of its solitary flame.