Thus we argued in the hackney coach until we arrived at Number 4 Bow Street. It was still light enough that Clarissa might hurry upstairs and begin preparations for dinner. Sir John could go to his chambers and wait for Constable Brede to make his appearance. And I could follow him there and provide a surfeit of details from Mr. Chesley’s testimony. It seemed a shame, and altogether wrong that a day so rich in revelations should end in such a way. Yet, it turned out, there was still a single surprise left for me. Mr. Fuller called me back as I followed Sir John.
“What then, Constable Fuller?”
“A fellow came by and left something for you, a box it was.”
I took it from him and saw immediately what it was. The size and shape of it gave it away. I opened the box and saw that it was the dueling pistol, which Mr. Deuteronomy had taken with him. I had its mate in my pocket. There was a note inside, addressed to me. I fumbled it open. Mr. Fuller, ever curious, watched me with interest. I read:
Mr. Proctor:
I am returning this early, for I have no further use for it. I’m fair sure that my sister will be at Newmarket, therefore I am booking you a room there at the Good Queen Bess on Commerce Street. See you at the races.
— Deuteronomy Plummer
“The fella who brought it was that one who’s uncommon short, just the size of a child is all,” said Mr. Fuller.
“It’s all right,” said I. “I know who he was.”
SIX
We did not get round to discussing Mr. Deuteronomy Plummer and Newmarket until that evening after dinner. Mr. Brede came by and confirmed that indeed he had accompanied a young lady from Bow Street to some house or other in Chandos Street. He hadn’t thought it of sufficient importance to include in his report, he said, but he remembered her well. Irish, wasn’t she?
Then did Mr. Bailey come in and bring with him a whole calendarful of problems having to do with scheduling.
Then-oh well, one thing after another until it was time to eat dinner upstairs. Clarissa’s dinner wasn’t quite up to what she had offered us earlier in Molly’s absence, so that I, for one, was secretly glad that our regular cook was returning. Stew it was again-and she had done it better two nights before. Talk flew round the table. Most of it had to do with the “girls” at the Magdalene Home for Penitent Prostitutes and how well they had taken to Molly’s cooking course.
“There are two or three who could take Molly’s place,” said Lady Fielding, “if it ever came to that.”
“Thank God it has not,” said Sir John. Then, lest that be taken amiss by Clarissa he complimented her on the stew, and of course all the table joined in, praising the meal as though it were some culinary masterpiece. Clarissa smiled graciously and acknowledged our thanks with a nod. However, once the meal was done, and we had the kitchen to ourselves, she did not hesitate to say what she truly believed. I recall that she had been sitting quietly at the table whilst I rubbed and scrubbed at the pot in which she had cooked our stew. All of a sudden she did speak. It was more than a remark; it was, rather, a pronouncement, a declaration.
“False praise is worse than no praise at all,” said she.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked her.
“Just what I say! I was quite disappointed in you, Jeremy-the way you added your voice to the rest, lauding that mediocre meal when you knew as well as I just how good it was not.” She had me there, all right.
“Well,” I replied, “I would admit that it was not up to your very best, but after all, Clarissa-”
With a wave of her hand she silenced me. “Oh, never mind,” said she. “This has not been a good day for me, but you’re certainly not the cause of it.”
“Then. . who is?”
“I am, of course. I’ve no one to blame but myself. How could I have spoken up to Sir John and challenged him in his very own courtroom? What right had I? What sort of clerk was I to do such a thing?”
“Oh, you mean that matter to do with the woman who’s buying up all of Covent Garden.”
“But of course I didn’t know that, did I? Yet even so, I should not have spoken out as I did. Why must I always. . always. . be me?”
My heart went out to her. Sitting there at the kitchen table she had wound herself round her chair in such a way that she seemed smaller than she truly was. She hung her head, avoiding my gaze. Still, I suspected that there were tears in her eyes once more. Women are such emotional creatures, are they not?
I was about to say something to her-something of a comforting nature, I suppose, though I cannot now imagine what it might have been. That was when Sir John’s voice rang out from the floor above, summoning me to him.
“Just finishing up here,” I called back to him. “I’ll be with you in a moment, sir.”
That seemed to satisfy him, for I heard nothing more. Having scrubbed the pot well, I put it aside and made ready to go.
“I’ll finish up for you,” said she to me, rising from her chair and dabbing at her eyes.
“Well, all right,” said I. “Shall I tell Sir John how. . how you feel about all this?”
She looked, of a sudden, quite horror-stricken at my suggestion. “Oh no,” said she, “say nothing of the kind. Whatever he wishes to say should be said-to me. Please, Jeremy, don’t play the peacemaker, not this time.”
“All right,” said I. And, having said that, I saw there was nothing else to say. With a nod, I turned and hastened up the stairs.
He was, as I expected, sitting in the darkened room he called his study. And, also as I expected, he urged me to light the candles on his desk if I’d a wish for more light. Naturally, I declined. I do not think those candles had been lit for a year or more. As soon as I had settled in the visitor’s chair, he put a question to me.
“Where were we?”
“Sir?”
“As I recall, you had just told me that Deuteronomy Plummer had dropped off the pistol in its case a bit earlier than expected. And that was when Mr. Brede came in, confirming Kathleen Quigley’s story. . or part of it,” said Sir John with a proper harrumph.
“Indeed, Sir John,” I agreed.
“Then there were a number of other interruptions, followed by dinner, followed by me asking you where we were.”
“Ah, of course. Well, there was a note to me in the case.”
“A good place to start. What did he say in the note?”
“I can fetch it for you and read it, if you like.”
“Quite unnecessary. Please, just summarize.”
“He simply said that he was returning the pistol early, as he had no further use for it. Then did he repeat that he was fair certain that his sister would make an appearance at Newmarket. Indeed so certain was he that he had taken the liberty of booking a room for me at an inn in the town-had rather an odd name, so it did.”
“The Good Queen Bess, was it?”
“How did you know, sir?”
“Ah well, I’ve been to Newmarket a time or two, and I’ve stayed there.”
“Is it the only place in town?”
“Far from it. Nevertheless, it’s the only place for the racing crowd. You’ll no doubt enjoy your stay.”
“Then I’m going?”
“Oh yes. Had you not supposed that you would?”
“When do we leave?” I asked rather excitedly. Indeed, I was rather excited by the prospect of such a trip.
“Not ‘we,’” said he. “You’ll go alone-or not quite so, for a constable must accompany you, should you have the opportunity to make an arrest. It seems to me that we are working not so much on two separate cases but upon a single one, as will eventually be revealed when we are a bit further along with each of them. The way to solve this single big case, it seems to me, is to work hard to push both the two smaller ones along. Therefore, I shall remain in London and work upon the disappearance of Elizabeth Hooker, and you, it seems, would best pursue the mother of little Maggie Plummer up in Newmarket.”