Newbury took a deep breath. “You’re right, Charles. Of course you are. I wish I had something more to give you, but there’s nothing here. No clue as to the nature of the killer, or what it is that’s driving him to commit such appalling acts of violence.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, I’ll see what I can do to hurry Aldous along.”
He glanced round at the sound of footsteps echoing upon the flagstones behind them. Veronica followed his gaze. Professor Angelchrist strolled hastily towards them, flanked by two uniformed bobbies. He looked a little dishevelled, as if he hadn’t managed much sleep the previous evening. He was still wearing the same clothes as the previous day. “Sorry I’m late, Sir Charles,” he said, a little out of breath. He stopped beside Newbury, joining them in their makeshift crescent around the corpse of the vicar. “Good Lord!” he said, appearing somewhat taken aback by the sheer horror of the scene. “And in a house of God, too.”
“The killer knows no shame,” said Bainbridge, darkly.
Veronica looked from one man to the other. What the devil was Bainbridge playing at, inviting that man here? On top of what had happened at the exhibition, Newbury and Bainbridge were under definite instruction from the monarch herself to sever all ties with the Secret Service. By welcoming Angelchrist to a crime scene, Bainbridge was, effectively, colluding with the enemy-or at least Her Majesty’s perception of the enemy, which amounted to much the same thing. He was putting them all in very grave danger.
“Whatever the case, Archibald here was right,” said Newbury. “About the Germans, I mean.” The others turned to regard him. Veronica bit her tongue. “The corpse has been here for some hours. The cold weather and the atmosphere in this frigid church have helped to preserve the remains, but I have no doubt that he died yesterday, probably late in the afternoon.”
“At around the same time you were being chased by carnivorous birds at the Crystal Palace,” said Angelchrist.
“Yes. And the same time your men were engaged in an unnecessary gunfight with the German agents,” said Veronica, drily. “Do you know the full extent of the death toll yet?”
“Veronica, I really don’t think-” started Bainbridge.
Angelchrist cut him off with a wave of his hand, but wouldn’t meet her eye. “It’s alright, Sir Charles. I’m only too aware of my failure.” He raised his head, searching Veronica’s face. His eyes were limned with dark rings. “I can only assure you, Miss Hobbes, that it was never my intention to allow the operation to descend into such violence, nor to put the lives of any civilians in danger. Nevertheless, the risk of allowing the Kaiser to arm his flotilla of airships with such a weapon was too great to ignore. If he had been successful, I might well have many, many more deaths on my conscience.”
“And at least we’ve now discounted the Germans from our murder investigation,” added Newbury.
“It might still have been Germans,” said Veronica, levelly. “The incident at the exhibition could well have been a planned distraction.”
“Perhaps,” said Newbury, thoughtfully. “Although I find it unlikely they would draw attention to themselves in such a way if they were contemplating further, more clandestine operations throughout the city. Let’s face it: It’s not as if we were hot on their trail before the exhibition. Why put on such an obvious display if the real aim was to remain anonymous?”
Veronica nodded. At least this was in keeping with her thoughts on the subject. “Then perhaps the reverse was true. Perhaps they showed their hand to discredit themselves as suspects in the murders? If I were the Kaiser, I would certainly be taking steps to distance my agents from implication. Their attempt to steal the search lamp yesterday might in fact have been a statement of innocence, the Kaiser’s way of declaring his real interests in London and distancing himself from the murders.”
Bainbridge nodded. “I’m impressed with your reasoning, Miss Hobbes. There’s most definitely a subtext here that we’re missing. Someone is playing political games.”
“You think that people are being killed simply to make a point?” said Angelchrist.
“I don’t know,” replied Bainbridge. “I don’t know anything for certain. That’s what’s so damn infuriating. Someone is waging a campaign against the Queen’s agents, and I don’t have any real notion as to why.”
“There’s something fundamental we’re missing,” said Newbury, quietly.
“Why is there never a simple explanation?” said Bainbridge, his shoulders slumping.
“Oh, I have no doubt that there is, Charles. It’s only that-as yet-we’re unable to see it,” said Newbury. “Inevitably, these things come down to rivalry and petty jealousies.”
“I admire your optimism, Sir Maurice,” said Angelchrist, with a weak smile. The events of the previous day had clearly taken their toll on him. He shrugged. “So, have we learned anything from this new victim?”
“Only that Newbury doesn’t feel that there’s any occult significance to the theft of the organs. He believes the killer to be taking trophies,” said Bainbridge.
Angelchrist nodded. His expression did not give much away. “Yes, I’ve heard of such things,” he said. “Most disturbing.”
“Well, that does rule out a second possibility,” said Newbury. “It means the Cabal of the Horned Beast can’t be behind this,” he continued.
“They’re not?” said Bainbridge, looking increasingly crestfallen.
“No,” said Newbury. “At least, I don’t think so. None of their hallmarks are apparent here, the little touches or occult references I would have expected if they were responsible. People such as that, with those sort of fanatical beliefs, don’t try to obscure their involvement in such things. They revel in them. I know you considered them a likely party in these murders, Charles, but it just doesn’t appear to be the case. Besides which, I understand they have somewhat more particular plans in mind.”
Veronica raised a questioning eyebrow, but Newbury shook his head, refusing to elaborate. “Something for another day,” he said. “For now, we must concentrate on the matter in hand. We must think of nothing else.” He glanced at Veronica, and she realised that last point was aimed directly at her. Did he mean to dismiss her concerns over Angelchrist? Or was it a reference to what she had witnessed back at Chelsea? Either way, she felt a kernel of frustration at Newbury’s offhand remark.
“Professor, is there anything that your investigations have revealed that may help shed some light?” asked Veronica, careful to monitor her tone.
“Not as yet, I fear,” replied Angelchrist, with an apologetic smile, “although I shall endeavour to help where I can. Rest assured, I have my best men on it. Now that the German situation is under control, we will work with you to bring an end to this reign of terror.”
“My thanks to you, Archibald,” said Bainbridge. “Right now I fear we need all the help we can get.”
There was a moment of awkward silence that stretched almost to breaking. Finally, Bainbridge spoke. “So, what next?” he said, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked exhausted, as if he were carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
“I shall return to Marlborough House to see the Prince of Wales, in the hope of obtaining the list of agents he has promised to procure for us. Following that, I shall pay a visit to Aldous and see if I can’t jolly him on a little in his investigations.”
“Very good,” said Bainbridge. “I shall return to the Yard and try to keep the damn journalists at bay. And, of course, someone will have to talk to his family,” he said, indicating the corpse with the end of his cane, and grimacing. “Cartwright?” he said, glancing around for any sign of the uniformed constable.
“Yes, sir?” said the young man, stepping forward out of the shadows. His jaw was set firm as he tried to avoid displaying any emotion at the sight of the corpse.