‘That’s a deuced lie, sir,’ Hastings spluttered, almost knocking over the inkwell on his desk, ‘and I’ll ask you not to repeat it in such august company.’
‘When it became clear I hadn’t followed these orders,’ Knox said, ignoring Hastings, ‘and after it was discovered I’d identified the dead man and contacted his son in Somerset, I was called in here and dismissed.’
‘You were dismissed, as you put it, for aiding and abetting the escape of a suspected thief, and I’ll remind you that such an action could land you in prison, if we were inclined to prosecute.’
The Englishman held up his hand. ‘I’m not here to judge the rights and wrongs of your disciplinary procedures. I just want to know how and why this gentleman came to believe that the corpse was that of one of my men.’
Knox tried to assess whether Pierce would be sympathetic to what he had to say.
‘Perhaps you could tell me about your investigation,’ Pierce said, looking directly at him.
Knox did as he’d been asked and described each stage of his inquiry. He was as frank as he felt he could be, but he didn’t mention his suspicion that Cornwallis had known the dead man. He also didn’t say anything about the daguerreotypes.
‘So do you still have the letters you found in the lodging house — the ones written by Pyke’s son?’ Pierce said, once Knox had finished.
‘I’m afraid not. I was made to give them up to Lord Cornwallis.’
‘What’s his interest in the letters?’ Pierce asked, curious now.
Hastings and the County Inspector had suddenly gone very quiet.
‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him,’ Knox said, gesturing at Hastings.
Pierce ignored the insinuation. ‘And the pistol and knife you found there?’
‘I still have them. I left them at Father Mackey’s house in Clonoulty.’
Pierce looked over at the County Inspector. ‘I will need to inspect them, of course.’
‘I fear you’ve come all this way for nothing,’ Hastings said. ‘I mean, there’s no hard evidence that the deceased was one of your men. By his own admission, Constable Knox is not the finest investigator in the land.’
Pierce considered this. He seemed angry. ‘I could, of course, order the exhumation of the body…’
Hastings shook his head warily. ‘It was buried with countless others in a pit at the workhouse. There’s no way you’d be able to tell any of them apart now due to the decomposition.’
‘In any case,’ the County Inspector said, ‘as I understand it, we have no idea whether this man, Pyke, even travelled to Ireland…’
Knox coughed. ‘It’s my guess he was looking for someone called John Johns. Johns was born in this part of the world but he joined the army and ended up in Wales. I might not be the finest investigator in the land but I do know that Pyke had come here from Merthyr and he’d gone to Wales to investigate the kidnapping of a child.’ Knox could see straight away that he’d scored a hit. Hastings and the County Inspector could see this too and went quiet.
‘It would seem,’ Pierce said, turning to Hastings, ‘that your former employee is not the dim-witted investigator you perhaps believed him to be.’
The sub-inspector reddened but said nothing. Pierce gestured for Knox to continue.
‘I knew I had to identify the victim,’ he said, deciding to play what was his strongest card. ‘But I also knew that, untreated, the corpse would quickly decompose beyond recognition. I put it to Sub-inspector Hastings that we should either pay someone to embalm it or arrange for a daguerreotype image to be fixed on a copperplate.’
Pierce glanced across at Hastings, scowling. ‘I’m assuming your suggestions fell on deaf ears.’
‘That’s unfair, sir,’ Hastings blustered.
Pierce cut him off. ‘Pity your ideas weren’t taken up.’
Knox saw a faint glimmer of hope. ‘The sub-inspector made his position clear. But I chose not to listen to him.’ He waited for the implications of what he’d just said to sink in.
Pierce sat forward. The atmosphere in the room had changed in an instant. ‘Did I hear you right?’ the Englishman asked.
‘I know a shopkeeper who has an interest in daguerreotypes and I asked him to help me. He agreed. Of course, I had to pay him out of my own pocket.’
‘And did he capture an image of the dead man?’
Knox nodded. ‘Two, in fact. It’s amazing how good — how clear — the images are.’ He was almost enjoying himself now.
‘Do you still have them?’ There was wariness in Pierce’s tone now. This revelation had thrown him too.
‘Yes.’
‘Where are they?’
‘Here.’
‘Here? Now? ’ Pierce seemed almost panicked by this notion.
Knox reached into his pocket and retrieved both copperplates.
Pierce eyed him carefully. ‘I presume this shopkeeper will corroborate your story?’
‘I expect so.’ Knox glanced over at Hastings. ‘He doesn’t have any reason to lie.’
‘Do you think I could see the daguerreotypes, please?’ Pierce held out his hand.
Knox passed them to him and watched as Pierce, hands trembling, inspected the images. His expression remained inscrutable.
Pierce then passed the daguerreotypes to the County Inspector. ‘I have known Detective-inspector Pyke for the best part of twenty-five years. I wouldn’t say we were friends and I might even confess that I’ve never cared for the man, although he is undoubtedly a fine detective.’
Knox tried to read some kind of inference into this but couldn’t.
‘Perhaps I should say he was a fine detective.’
Knox stared at him, felt his heart skip a beat. ‘Was?’
‘It would seem that my journey over here has not been in vain.’ There was a curious smile on his lips.
‘It is Detective-inspector Pyke, then?’
‘As I said, I’ve known Pyke for half my life and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that man in the picture is him.’
Pierce turned to Hastings and the County Inspector. ‘It would seem that one of my detectives was murdered in your jurisdiction. I would like to know what steps you have taken to find and apprehend the guilty party, sir, aside from handing over the inquiry to a constable with no experience of these matters.’
Flustered, the County Inspector looked over at Hastings, spectacles perched on the end of his nose.
‘ Well? ’
‘I assumed — wrongly, as it turned out — that the deceased was a vagrant, a poacher…’
‘That’s what Lord Cornwallis told you to assume,’ Knox said, then to Pierce, ‘Cornwallis also wanted me to investigate the murder. That way, he supposed, nothing would come to light. He assumed he could intimidate me. When his Lordship realised what I’d done, that I’d betrayed his trust, he made sure I lost my job here at the constabulary and arranged to have me evicted from my home.’
Pierce regarded Knox for a moment. ‘These are very serious accusations. But I can’t see that it is in anyone’s interest for these matters to be aired in public. As such, I’d like to propose that I work with Constable Knox to have another look at the murder and bring the affair to a more satisfactory conclusion.’
Constable Knox. Pierce had just referred to him as Constable Knox. ‘Does that mean I’ve been reinstated?’
‘You should remember that Knox was dismissed for an entirely separate, and highly grievous, incident.’ This time it was the County Inspector who’d spoken.
‘Indeed,’ said Pierce, ‘but you should remember, sir, that gross procedural irregularities have been committed by all parties, including yourself.’
Knox felt light-headed. Suddenly his future seemed much less bleak. But almost at once, he had another far less palatable thought. What would happen when Pierce returned to England? Would Hastings honour his commitment to give him back his job? The man had been humiliated and Knox knew just how dangerous a wounded beast could be.
‘Far be it for me to be awkward, sir, but it would be remiss of me not to ask under what or whose jurisdiction you intend to conduct this investigation?’ The County Inspector looked at Pierce.