it?’
‘Strange?’
‘Yes. Because your sense of him, and our sense of him, is that he’s at least as violent as Jones was. He’s a frightening figure.’
Joe thought about that.
‘Is it weak to be afraid of him, Mrs Lambert?’
‘It would be foolish not to be. I don’t think we’re inventing a bogey man, and this might be a bit forthright for you, but I believe that if he gets to you, he won’t stop at you.’
‘He won’t get to me, Mrs Lambert. And I promise you, he won’t get to Tom either.’
IT WAS 3.00 am when Inspector Lambert made it home to Bishop Street. He’d dropped Helen Lord and David Reilly at their respective houses first. (The first thing Reilly said to his wife on waking her was, ‘You should see the house that Helen Lord lives in. It’s a mansion. She shouldn’t be taking a bloke’s job.’)
Joe and Maude were still awake when Titus entered the house. Before he’d spoken a word, Joe told him about Tom’s encounter, real or imagined, with George Starling. He spoke calmly, but there was a desperate edge to his voice that Titus couldn’t miss. It was a strange relief to Joe when Titus suggested that they should proceed on the assumption that Tom had, in fact, seen George Starling. To do otherwise was folly. There must have been some silent exchange between Titus and Maude, Joe thought, because Titus hurried to assure Joe that Starling’s being in the backyard didn’t represent a failure on his part. Rather, it provided further proof that the man they were dealing with was not to be underestimated. He briefly outlined what they’d learned in Warrnambool, and included the hideous cruelty meted out to John Starling’s animals.
‘Do you think he killed his father, sir?’
‘It doesn’t look like it, but I don’t think he’ll waste time weeping over him. He burned his house to the ground. I presume he would have inherited it. Clearly, he’s not the sentimental type.’
Titus suggested that they try to get some sleep. When Maude fetched a couple of pillows for Joe, he assured her again that he could sleep comfortably sitting up.
In the bedroom, Titus held Maude to him, despite the heat. He needed to feel her body against his skin. They spoke softly, conscious of Joe just a few feet from them in the living room.
‘Joe is sure he wasn’t followed,’ Maude said.
‘Joe wants to believe that.’
‘He shouldn’t be back at work, Titus. As soon as I saw him, I wanted to cry.’
‘At least if he’s at work we can keep an eye on him.’
‘How can you do that after hours?’
‘We don’t have the manpower to post someone at his flat around the clock, and we can’t do that here, either.’
‘You really believe that this Starling creature was here, don’t you?’
‘I’m certain of it. However alert Joe thinks he is, he’s injured, he’s scared, and he’s not himself. On top of that, he’s inexperienced, and he can’t get past feeling guilty about Tom.’
‘I didn’t help him, did I?’
‘Please, darling, don’t you start feeling guilty, too.’
‘I don’t feel guilty. I’m just angry with myself.’
‘You and Tom — well, all of us — need to move somewhere safer. I can’t protect us here; not now.’
Maude knew that he was right, although her fears were for Tom, not for herself.
‘We can stay at Tom’s house. It’ll be messy, but it’s got two bedrooms. What about Joe?’
‘He won’t like it, but he can’t stay at his flat. I’m not giving him a choice. I’m billeting him with Helen Lord.’
‘Does she know this?’
‘Not yet, and neither does Joe. I knew she and her mother lived with her uncle in Kew. What I didn’t know until this evening is that the house is huge. It’s a proper Victorian pile. There must be half-a-dozen bedrooms; more, probably. It’s the kind of place that would have a butler’s pantry — whatever that is.’
‘How did Helen Lord go in Warrnambool?’
Titus elaborated on the sketch he’d given
‘Strange?’
‘Yes. Because your sense of him, and our sense of him, is that he’s at least as violent as Jones was. He’s a frightening figure.’
Joe thought about that.
‘Is it weak to be afraid of him, Mrs Lambert?’
‘It would be foolish not to be. I don’t think we’re inventing a bogey man, and this might be a bit forthright for you, but I believe that if he gets to you, he won’t stop at you.’
‘He won’t get to me, Mrs Lambert. And I promise you, he won’t get to Tom either.’
IT WAS 3.00 am when Inspector Lambert made it home to Bishop Street. He’d dropped Helen Lord and David Reilly at their respective houses first. (The first thing Reilly said to his wife on waking her was, ‘You should see the house that Helen Lord lives in. It’s a mansion. She shouldn’t be taking a bloke’s job.’)
Joe and Maude were still awake when Titus entered the house. Before he’d spoken a word, Joe told him about Tom’s encounter, real or imagined, with George Starling. He spoke calmly, but there was a desperate edge to his voice that Titus couldn’t miss. It was a strange relief to Joe when Titus suggested that they should proceed on the assumption that Tom had, in fact, seen George Starling. To do otherwise was folly. There must have been some silent exchange between Titus and Maude, Joe thought, because Titus hurried to assure Joe that Starling’s being in the backyard didn’t represent a failure on his part. Rather, it provided further proof that the man they were dealing with was not to be underestimated. He briefly outlined what they’d learned in Warrnambool, and included the hideous cruelty meted out to John Starling’s animals.
‘Do you think he killed his father, sir?’
‘It doesn’t look like it, but I don’t think he’ll waste time weeping over him. He burned his house to the ground. I presume he would have inherited it. Clearly, he’s not the sentimental type.’
Titus suggested that they try to get some sleep. When Maude fetched a couple of pillows for Joe, he assured her again that he could sleep comfortably sitting up.
In the bedroom, Titus held Maude to him, despite the heat. He needed to feel her body against his skin. They spoke softly, conscious of Joe just a few feet from them in the living room.
‘Joe is sure he wasn’t followed,’ Maude said.
‘Joe wants to believe that.’
‘He shouldn’t be back at work, Titus. As soon as I saw him, I wanted to cry.’
‘At least if he’s at work we can keep an eye on him.’
‘How can you do that after hours?’
‘We don’t have the manpower to post someone at his flat around the clock, and we can’t do that here, either.’
‘You really believe that this Starling creature was here, don’t you?’
‘I’m certain of it. However alert Joe thinks he is, he’s injured, he’s scared, and he’s not himself. On top of that, he’s inexperienced, and he can’t get past feeling guilty about Tom.’
‘I didn’t help him, did I?’
‘Please, darling, don’t you start feeling guilty, too.’
‘I don’t feel guilty. I’m just angry with myself.’
‘You and Tom — well, all of us — need to move somewhere safer. I can’t protect us here; not now.’
Maude knew that he was right, although her fears were for Tom, not for herself.
‘We can stay at Tom’s house. It’ll be messy, but it’s got two bedrooms. What about Joe?’
‘He won’t like it, but he can’t stay at his flat. I’m not giving him a choice. I’m billeting him with Helen Lord.’
‘Does she know this?’
‘Not yet, and neither does Joe. I knew she and her mother lived with her uncle in Kew. What I didn’t know until this evening is that the house is huge. It’s a proper Victorian pile. There must be half-a-dozen bedrooms; more, probably. It’s the kind of place that would have a butler’s pantry — whatever that is.’
‘How did Helen Lord go in Warrnambool?’
Titus elaborated on the sketch he’d given
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