than they already had.
“We’re not
thinking
of doing anything, my man,” Detective Shadwell said to him. “We have orders to take the girl into custody for her own safety. She’s in mortal danger. We’ve been led to believe that she’s a savant,
touched
by the hand of God, if you will, and there are those that would make use of her.”
“Who told you such a thing, sir?” asked Mother Laswell.
“Your own Constable Brooke and the girl’s father, ma’am. We’re tolerably certain that Mrs. Wright’s murder was due to her… calling, which the girl shares.”
“Her
father
? Clemson Wright? That
husk
of a man? What business does he have saying anything at all about Clara? To the best of my knowledge he hasn’t seen the girl since he was driven away many years ago, nor has Clara seen him. He’s a viper, sir. An eater of dung.” Mother Laswell had drawn herself up as if ready to explode. Alice took her arm to quiet her, or to hold her back if necessary.
“I fully believe you ma’am,” the detective said, “but be that as it may, he
is
the girl’s father. He has certain rights under the law, and the law is indifferent to his character unless he runs afoul of the law, which he has not.”
Alice saw that Kraken had picked up the heavy piece of wooden rod from the kitchen counter and was gripping it hard, his face set. Neither of the two policemen were paying any attention to him at the moment, thank God. Alice stared meaningfully at Bill, and when she caught his eye, he looked abashed. Kraken’s transportation to Australia had ended when he stowed away on a ship returning to England. He had managed to leave the ship on its way up the Thames, hiding himself in the Thames Marshes where he found employment tending sheep, until by chance he fell in with Harriet Laswell, and his life was on an even keel again after many years of rough seas. He could scarcely afford to be taken up for striking a policeman or for anything else, not unless he wanted to be hanged. He laid the rod back in its place now, but the unhappy state of his mind was clear to Alice.
“The girl is safe at Hereafter Farm, sir,” Mother Laswell said, “safer than she is with the likes of Clemson Wright.”
“I regret to say, ma’am, once again, that I am under orders. Miss Wright’s father has laid claim to her for the sole purpose of protecting her. I’ll reveal that several days ago he was approached by a man who offered to purchase the girl.”
“
Purchase
her?” Mother Laswell said. “As if she were a
slave
?”
“Just so, and for a considerable sum. Wright was incensed, of course, by the very idea of it, as are all of us. He dismissed the man with hard words, but it started him thinking about his daughter, and about his duty to her. This very morning that same man came to him again in Thwaites’s Coffee House, and told him that Sarah Wright was dead, and that he should think hard about the girl, who was
not
dead. Once again he offered money, but it amounted to three pennies, which he dropped into the cup out of which Wright was drinking his coffee. It was clearly a threat, do you see. If money would not move Clemson Wright, then there were surer means.
“Wright understood them to be deadly serious, and he asked the man for a day to consider how to accomplish the task, for he knew that the girl Clara would likely spurn him, and he needed time to puzzle out what to do. The man agreed. Clemson Wright came straight to us, in fear for his own life and the life of his daughter. Fortune, however, was with us. Constable Brooke had just ten minutes earlier reported the murder of Sarah Wright by telegraph. Sergeant Bingham and I were in the coach bound for Aylesford as soon as the story was out of Wright’s mouth.”
“And we mean to be back in London by supper time,” Sergeant Bingham put in. “You lot can take that to the bank. Stand aside now and let us do our job and there won’t be trouble.” He picked up his valise at
“We’re not
thinking
of doing anything, my man,” Detective Shadwell said to him. “We have orders to take the girl into custody for her own safety. She’s in mortal danger. We’ve been led to believe that she’s a savant,
touched
by the hand of God, if you will, and there are those that would make use of her.”
“Who told you such a thing, sir?” asked Mother Laswell.
“Your own Constable Brooke and the girl’s father, ma’am. We’re tolerably certain that Mrs. Wright’s murder was due to her… calling, which the girl shares.”
“Her
father
? Clemson Wright? That
husk
of a man? What business does he have saying anything at all about Clara? To the best of my knowledge he hasn’t seen the girl since he was driven away many years ago, nor has Clara seen him. He’s a viper, sir. An eater of dung.” Mother Laswell had drawn herself up as if ready to explode. Alice took her arm to quiet her, or to hold her back if necessary.
“I fully believe you ma’am,” the detective said, “but be that as it may, he
is
the girl’s father. He has certain rights under the law, and the law is indifferent to his character unless he runs afoul of the law, which he has not.”
Alice saw that Kraken had picked up the heavy piece of wooden rod from the kitchen counter and was gripping it hard, his face set. Neither of the two policemen were paying any attention to him at the moment, thank God. Alice stared meaningfully at Bill, and when she caught his eye, he looked abashed. Kraken’s transportation to Australia had ended when he stowed away on a ship returning to England. He had managed to leave the ship on its way up the Thames, hiding himself in the Thames Marshes where he found employment tending sheep, until by chance he fell in with Harriet Laswell, and his life was on an even keel again after many years of rough seas. He could scarcely afford to be taken up for striking a policeman or for anything else, not unless he wanted to be hanged. He laid the rod back in its place now, but the unhappy state of his mind was clear to Alice.
“The girl is safe at Hereafter Farm, sir,” Mother Laswell said, “safer than she is with the likes of Clemson Wright.”
“I regret to say, ma’am, once again, that I am under orders. Miss Wright’s father has laid claim to her for the sole purpose of protecting her. I’ll reveal that several days ago he was approached by a man who offered to purchase the girl.”
“
Purchase
her?” Mother Laswell said. “As if she were a
slave
?”
“Just so, and for a considerable sum. Wright was incensed, of course, by the very idea of it, as are all of us. He dismissed the man with hard words, but it started him thinking about his daughter, and about his duty to her. This very morning that same man came to him again in Thwaites’s Coffee House, and told him that Sarah Wright was dead, and that he should think hard about the girl, who was
not
dead. Once again he offered money, but it amounted to three pennies, which he dropped into the cup out of which Wright was drinking his coffee. It was clearly a threat, do you see. If money would not move Clemson Wright, then there were surer means.
“Wright understood them to be deadly serious, and he asked the man for a day to consider how to accomplish the task, for he knew that the girl Clara would likely spurn him, and he needed time to puzzle out what to do. The man agreed. Clemson Wright came straight to us, in fear for his own life and the life of his daughter. Fortune, however, was with us. Constable Brooke had just ten minutes earlier reported the murder of Sarah Wright by telegraph. Sergeant Bingham and I were in the coach bound for Aylesford as soon as the story was out of Wright’s mouth.”
“And we mean to be back in London by supper time,” Sergeant Bingham put in. “You lot can take that to the bank. Stand aside now and let us do our job and there won’t be trouble.” He picked up his valise at
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