“That’s a bad cut there,” the patient in the next bed said.
“Not too bad. It’s the broken knuckles that bother me most.”
“Got the same damn thing myself,” the patient said. “Other arm, though. And me knuckles are good.” He held up his arm to show Hammersmith the bandage. “Some mad bugger did me with scissors. You believe it?”
Hammersmith clucked his tongue and pulled the other sleeve over his good arm. He concentrated on buttoning the shirt with his good hand. The shirt fit well. He’d found it at the tailor’s shop and didn’t think anyone would complain that he’d taken it.
“Lucky for me there was a doctor at the workhouse today. Just visitin’, he was, pure coincidence. Except not a coincidence at all, was it?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“He was there with the police, chasin’ after the madman what stabbed me. Anyhow, it was a lucky break. He fixed me up and sent me on here.” The patient propped himself up on one elbow so he could lean in toward Hammersmith. “Glad it happened. Know why? Food’s better here!”
The patient broke into loud peals of laughter. Hammersmith nodded and put his sling back on, adjusting it across his chest. He stood and surveyed the area for anything he might be forgetting.
“Here now,” the patient said. “Yer not s’posed to leave till the nurse comes an’ says it’s all right.”
“I’m sure she’ll be glad for the empty bed. Anyway, I’ve things to do. Can’t lie about all day.”
“Me, I’m happy to have a reason to lay about.”
“Then enjoy yourself. Glad to have met you.”
Hammersmith walked out of the ward and nobody stopped him. He got his bearings and turned to his left, walked down a long hall until he found a staircase. At the top of the stairs, he asked a harried-looking nurse for the men’s critical ward and followed in the direction she pointed until he came to a large room at the end of the hall. Twenty beds lined the walls, and in each of them lay a dying man.
He took a deep breath and entered the ward. He found his father in the sixth bed from the end, asleep, an old man with thin white hair and bony shoulders. He no longer resembled the strong coal miner who had ruffled his son’s hair as they’d walked home in the starlight so many years ago.
Hammersmith pulled up a stool and sat. After a while, the old man’s eyes opened and he looked up at Hammersmith. There was a long silence, and when his father finally spoke, Hammersmith had to bend over him so that he could hear.
“Look how you’re growing, son,” his father said. “You won’t be the smallest boy in the village much longer.”
He smiled and Hammersmith smiled back. He reached out his hand and smoothed his father’s hair back from his forehead. After a moment, the old man’s eyes closed again.
Hammersmith waited until he was sure his father was asleep and then he rose and left the hospital.
He was surprised to find Penelope Shaw waiting for him when he arrived at number four, Whitehall Place.
“I heard that you rescued a child,” she said.
“It was luck.”
“You’re too modest.”
“No, only honest.”
“Your arm?”
“It will heal.”
“Your nose is healing already.”
“Yes. I noticed it’s a different shade of purple today.”
“I came to apologize to you again.”
“There’s no need.”
“I want to anyway.”
“Very well, then. You’ve apologized. Now it’s done and behind us.”
“And I want to say good-bye to you.”
“Good-bye? I don’t understand.”
“Perhaps I’m assuming things I shouldn’t, but it felt as if there was something between us.”
“How could there be? You’ve been a widow for less than a day.”
“And you would never presume, would you, regardless of my feelings for my husband? Or, I should say, my lack of feeling for him.”
“I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“I told you.”
“And yet I still don’t understand.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? So I’m going to marry your Inspector Blacker.”
Hammersmith’s eyes widened and he cast his eyes about the room, looking for Blacker. “What did he do?”
“Michael? Why, nothing at all.”
“He’s proposed marriage already?”
“No. He doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean, he doesn’t know?”
“When enough time has passed so that it seems proper, I will let him know of my intentions and then he will propose to me.”
“But he doesn’t know?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know that he’ll propose?”
“Because I do.”
“You can’t have feelings for him. You’ve only just met him.”
Penelope looked away. “I have a child, Mr Hammersmith. I have responsibilities.”
“I don’t understand.”
“How will I care for my son by myself? How could I possibly afford to keep Elizabeth on?”
“You’ll get by.”
“I don’t want to get by. I want to be taken care of.”
“I’ll help you find a solution. Marrying Inspector Blacker solves nothing.”
“It solves everything. And besides, I like him.”
“You don’t love him.”
“I like his jokes.”
“But you don’t love him.”
“He makes me laugh.”
“You like his jokes?”
“I do.”
Hammersmith blinked. “Huh.”
“My son smiled for the first time since … well, for the first time in a very long time. Michael made my son smile, Mr Hammersmith.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“I think I do. But I would ask that you give this more thought.”
“It would never have worked between us. With you and me.”
“I haven’t even considered the idea.”
“Yes, you have.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her. “Well, obviously you have,” he said.
“You are already married to your job, Mr Hammersmith. You have no time for anything or anyone else.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“It is. And my problem is that I can’t be alone.”
“And so you want to be with Inspector Blacker.”
“He is attentive to people.”
“Well, you like his jokes.”
“Yes.”
Hammersmith shrugged. Penelope reached out to touch his chest, then drew her hand back. She turned and walked away. Hammersmith waited for her to look back at him, but she didn’t.
He felt as if he’d gone another round with an enraged bartender.
“Constable?”
Hammersmith turned to see Sergeant Kett hurrying toward him.
“The commissioner wants to see you in his office soon’s you arrive. Looks to me like you’ve arrived.”
“Yes, sir.”
He swung open the gate to the squad room and made his way across to Sir Edward’s office. He noticed that Inspector Day wasn’t at his desk. Blacker nodded to him as he passed and Hammersmith returned the gesture. He knocked on Sir Edward’s door.
“Come.”
Sir Edward was looking through a sheaf of papers and laid them down on the desk when Hammersmith opened the door. He motioned for Hammersmith to close it behind him.
“Mr Hammersmith.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A commendable job. You helped subdue the murderer and his accomplice. And you rescued the boy that set all this in motion. I am impressed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The boy may be called to testify, but Inspector Day has amassed enough evidence against the tailor that he may not. It would be good if the boy were left alone now. His family’s been through enough, I think.”
“Where is Inspector Day, sir?”
“There was an emergency at home. I’ve given him the rest of the day. And I’m giving you the rest of the day, as well.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m ready to work.”
Sir Edward chuckled and shook his head. “You are ideally suited for police work, Hammersmith.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“But…” Sir Edward hesitated and scowled at the top of his desk.
“Sir?”
“You also acted beyond the pale, overstepping your responsibilities at every turn, disobeying the spirit of my orders, and displaying a remarkable amount of independence.”