“Looks like we’re starting over again,” Day said.
“Kingsley’s wrong,” Blacker said. “He has to be.”
“What makes you say that?”
“If he’s right then we’re looking at some sort of epidemic.”
“A disease?”
“Not a disease. Just plain evil. You’re a thinker, Day. You look at a thing from this angle and then that. You walk around it and pick it up and you don’t decide on a thing, you just look at it.”
“I don’t-”
“Not an insult, old man. It’s good what you do, for this kind of work. But I’m not like that. I find a purchase in a thing and I dig in. I don’t look at it inside and out, I go at it. Do you understand?”
“Not in the least. You’ve entirely misapprehended me.”
“Last year it was Saucy Jack. Now we have Little’s killer. And, if Kingsley’s right, we’ve got this other thing, this Beard Killer. If they’re not related…”
“I was never convinced that they were related. The only link between them was the bizarre nature of-”
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
Day looked around at the other detectives, all of them busy at their desks, none of them looking in Blacker’s direction.
“Keep your voice down, Blacker,” he said. He kept his own voice low and didn’t move his lips, hissing the words through clenched teeth. “They’re all listening to us, and you sound like you’ve lost your mind.”
“Maybe I have,” Blacker said. But he said it so quietly that only Day could hear him. He leaned forward and whispered, “You’re new here, so take me at my word: This isn’t what the Yard is cut out to do. Look, a man loses control and kills his wife, a child is trampled by an omnibus, a woman poisons her neighbor, a bludger takes a man’s wallet and slices him up … Those things happen every day and that’s why we’re here. We go in and we grab hold of the killer and we lock him up. We find out why the killing was done and that takes us right to the one that did it.”
“Right. I understand all that.”
“A man cuts the guts out of woman after woman or sews a man’s face up or shaves some poor bastard and then cuts his throat for no reason at all-there’s no percentage in it. That’s killing for the sake of killing. Where do we even start to look for the monster done that?”
“Little’s killing is simple. There’s a connection somewhere between the killer and the victim, and we seek it out.”
“No. No, this is different. There’s no sense to it, and one killer without reason is an oddity, but it seems to me that it’s spreading. We had a monster and we couldn’t catch him. Now how many monsters are there? It’s not just the Ripper anymore. Something’s changed in this city and everybody knows it. They’re all scared, everybody out there’s scared, and it’s more than we can deal with.”
“You’re tired.”
“Of course I’m tired. We’re all tired. But this is why I was here when you arrived this morning. If there’s no sense to this, then there’s no purchase for me. What am I doing here?”
“You’re doing police work.”
“I’m not sure I know what that is anymore.”
“I think it starts with putting these files in order. We’ve made a good run at it and we need to finish up here. We pick the likeliest path and we run it down until we can’t run anymore. When that happens, we come back and take another run down a different path until we’ve exhausted all the possibilities.”
Blacker nodded. He still looked troubled.
“There’s something happening, is all,” he said. “That’s all I’m saying here. I know I’m blathering on, but crime’s changing and people are changing. This is just the start, mark my words. I think there’s too many of us people and we’re too close together and we’re turning on each other like rats in the gutter. We’re in the biggest city in the world, Day, and I think it’s trying to get rid of us.”
Day sat down. From this angle he couldn’t see Blacker over the murder reports on the desk.
“London isn’t responsible for all this,” he said. “A small percentage of the people in this city are responsible for this, and if we can find those people and bring them to justice, then everyone else will be safe and free to go about their business.”
“You make it sound as if there’s an end to it all. There’s no end. And it makes less sense every day.”
Blacker’s voice sounded small and strained drifting over from behind the wall of cases, and there was no pun to accompany his accidental use of Day’s name.
“Even if you’re right,” Day said, “it seems to me that there’s only one thing we can do.”
“What’s that?”
“Start looking for a killer.”
After a long moment, Day heard Blacker take a sheaf of paper and start turning pages. Day took a deep breath and chose a stack at random. Somewhere, he was sure, there was a clue. He shook off the effects of Blacker’s speech and began to read.
33
Have a seat, Mr Hammersmith,” Sir Edward said.
“Sir.”
Hammersmith sat stiffly on the edge of the straight-backed wooden chair and tried to avoid looking at the stuffed tiger head on the wall as Colonel Sir Edward Bradford went around his desk and settled into the more comfortable leather chair. Sir Edward gazed at Hammersmith for a long moment before speaking.
“You look rough, Constable.”
“I’m fine, sir.”
“Good. Now tell me, do you by chance know a Mr Charles Shaw?”
“I believe I may have met him, sir.”
“Yes, I believe you have. When I arrived this morning, that gentleman was waiting in ambush for me. It seems you paid a visit to Mr Shaw’s home in the wee hours and threatened his family.”
“No, sir.”
“You didn’t visit him last night?”
“No, I mean I did, sir. But I never threatened him or his family.”
“You don’t seem the type.”
“No.”
“Then why did you go to his house?”
“In the course of an investigation, sir. I was watching his home when he happened to return from a holiday and I took the opportunity to talk with him.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“The household wasn’t sleeping. They had just arrived, and it was more convenient to approach him at that time than to leave and return in the daylight.”
“I noticed you came in just now with Detectives Day and Blacker. Were they with you last night?”
“No, sir. I joined them some time after my visit to the Shaw home.”
“He said there were two of you, but the other one was never introduced.”
“No, sir. It was only me.”
“Why would he tell me two if there was only one of you?”
“I don’t know, sir. It was me alone.”
Sir Edward stared at Hammersmith without speaking, and Hammersmith returned his gaze. Finally Sir Edward nodded. He seemed to have made up his mind about something.
“I like a man who stands up for his fellows. Why were you and Pringle there?”
“It was in the course of investigating a case, sir. And, again, it was just me.”
“Which case? Is this related to the matter of Inspector Little’s death?”
“I don’t think so. This was … I found a body yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you turn it over to a detective?”
“I did, sir.”
“And?”
“And it was decided that the case was not a priority at this time.”
“Who decided that?”
“Inspector Tiffany, sir.”
“Did he ask you to continue investigating in his absence?”
“No, sir. In fact, he expressly asked me to stand down.”
“But you disagreed.”
“I did.”
“I see. Do you believe yourself to be a detective?”
“No, sir.”
“Then why did you disregard Mr Tiffany’s wishes?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Yes, you do. Go on. Tell me.”
Sir Edward’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes that made Hammersmith decide to trust him.
“The body … It was a child, sir.”
He had no idea how to explain it better than that. It was enough for Hammersmith.