Tom Wasp and the Seven Deadly Sins Read online

William too? This sounded most ominous and I tried to disentangle it. If — and I could not believe it — such a scene had taken place, then Phineas’ motive for killing Mr Harcourt must have been a very personal one. Yet I held evidence that he might be involved in the robbery. I had to speak out now, and reluctantly told the constable about the Jubilate Agno.

  He was as surprised as I and together we considered this information and its relevance carefully. ‘A burglary,’ the constable said at last, ‘yet nothing was stolen as this poetry folder was paid for, and we’ve no proof that anything else was taken. There can’t be two poetry manuscripts called Jubilate Agno, so it’s almost certain Phineas took it from Harcourt’s store — unless someone gave it to him afterwards, which is highly unlikely. And we don’t know whether it has any connection to Mr Harcourt’s murder. In any case — ’ He brightened up — ‘it’s not evidence of murder and Phineas has been charged with murder, not robbery. Shall we put this information aside until we see things more clearly?’

  ‘You said we, constable.’

  ‘I did.’ He grinned. ‘That should give both of us time to investigate further. Now that Phineas has been arrested, the case is one for the City of London police, so I can’t go nosing into it any further. But you can, Mr Wasp.’

  VII

  Tolling Bells

  I doffed my hat in respect as the funeral procession slowly passed along Paternoster Row. Being on the short side, I found it hard to see, as it seemed every single one of the Row’s workers was gathered here to pay tribute to Mr Arnold Harcourt as his coffin made its way from St Martin’s in Ludgate to the City of London burial grounds for the burial. Unusually, the service had taken place in church rather than in the late Mr Harcourt’s home, Hart House. Clara stood beside me in her funeral black and Ned had joined us too. He plucked at my sleeve anxiously.

  ‘Cockalorum’s all on his own,’ he whispered.

  ‘If he wants to stay with us, he will,’ I comforted him. We’d provided him with a box of soot for his convenience and some food and water that we scraped together. With Cockalorum to feed it had been hard to persuade Ned it was time to get moving so I counted it a privilege that he was here at all. Cockalorum had agreed with me judging by the plaintive miaow he had given Ned as we left — and the baleful look I received.

  The funeral procession was not a very grand affair for all its black horses pulling the hearse, adorned with their black ribbons and plumes. The front carriages bore the clergyman and the pallbearers. I recognised one of these as being the gentleman selling biblical tracts in St Paul’s Churchyard, who had invited me to consider where I should like to spend eternity, and wondered whether Mr Harcourt had also been interrogated on this matter. After these carriages came the hearse and behind it the carriages bearing the mourners. These included several with familiar faces, and among them were the Tarlton Ordinaries, not just the three I had met with Constable Peters that day, but all seven looking most solemn in their black frock coats and black-banded top hats and gloves. Behind them were half a dozen or so other gentlemen, whom I did not recognise.

  Much to Clara’s disapproval, Mrs Harcourt had broken with convention and had sent out invitations to what she termed ‘a business reception’ later that day at Hart House.

  ‘She’s sent me an invitation asking me to attend,’ Clara had told me. ‘I have to say, Tom, I’m quite bewildered. Business indeed. She has only just been widowed and shouldn’t be receiving any guests yet awhile. Does business excuse that?’

  ‘Perhaps murder does. She might have her own ideas on who killed her husband,’ I said soberly.

  ‘In that case, I’ll forget about convention,’ Clara had announced with a searching look; I picked up her meaning.

  ‘I’d greatly appreciate it, Clara, if I could escort you,’ I replied, straight-faced. This might not please Mrs Harcourt, but it was an opportunity I should grasp and Constable Peters would agree with me.

  Clara had looked relieved. ‘Just what I was going to suggest, and Hetty may insist on coming, too.’

  Once the procession had passed, Paternoster Row began returning to business and carriage traffic resumed. Ned chose to return to Hairbrine Court, but Clara and I walked back to Queen’s Head Passage and Dolly’s until it was time for the reception.

  ‘There’s more to be learned at Dolly’s about this murder, isn’t there?’ she said on the way. ‘The police may think they have their man, but we know they don’t. They came to Dolly’s several times. I thought it was only the Tarlton Ordinaries who interested them, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? Is that why Phineas is in gaol?’

  ‘It could be, Clara.’ For all they were concentrating on the Flint angle and Mr Harcourt’s dealings with Lairy John, they’d taken evidence from Jericho and William too.

  ‘Find out quickly what really happened, Tom. Dolly’s is a happy place and I never want it thought otherwise. Look at all the people who have come here in times past. I walk in history there. I can hear their laughter sometimes, Dr Johnson pontificating over this and that, his friend Mr Boswell busy making notes, that composer Handel, Gainsborough who painted Dolly for us. Then there was that American president Jefferson staggering out of here well pleased and well drunk. “One among our many follies/Was calling in for steaks at Dolly’s” — that’s what he wrote afterwards. He’d had such a good time that he’d forgotten to go to the dinner he’d promised to attend.’

  ‘A fine history, Clara.’

  ‘Sometimes I think I can hear Shakespeare and his Shoreditch pals singing and boozing here when Tarlton owned the old Castle tavern. I can’t lose all that happiness, Tom. It’s in Dolly’s woodwork. But I will lose it if this trouble isn’t cleared up quickly. And I don’t want —’

  She stopped, but I knew what she was going to say. ‘You don’t want Hetty to suffer,’ I finished for her and she nodded.

  I understood. Dolly’s had been a contented and peaceful place before Mr Harcourt began his pursuit of Hetty. That was the worm that had gnawed its way like a cancer into Dolly’s woodwork, and if Phineas was unwittingly trapped by it, I needed to know quickly, both for his sake and for Dolly’s. I was fearful that Hetty herself might even have played a role, judging by the mysterious confession she half made to me. Clara was chiefly concerned with Hetty’s distress, but I wondered whether there was more going on than she realised. She was right to be worried for when the foundations of an establishment like Dolly’s are threatened, it doesn’t take long for customers to begin running away like lemmings at the hint of real trouble.

  We were approaching Dolly’s now and I wondered whether to press Clara about Hetty, but I had no need as she was eager to talk. ‘She’s still crying her eyes out, Tom. I never realised she liked Phineas so much, what with all the goings on with Harcourt. I thought it was William Wright she was sweet on.’

  ‘And that’s led to more going amiss at Dolly’s,’ I told Clara soberly. ‘What’s this about a rumpus on the Wednesday afternoon before Mr Harcourt was murdered?’

  ‘I might have guessed you’d hear. It meant nothing, Tom. Truly. I never saw Phineas here that afternoon. Hetty did, but that set-to was all over nothing, she said. And anyway, that was in the afternoon, not in the evening. The police told me he punched Jericho. And then punched William too. That doesn’t sound like Phineas, does it? I don’t believe it and nor could Hetty.’

  I was even more dismayed that Hetty had said nothing to me about this set-to at Dolly’s. ‘Was it only Jericho and William who gave evidence?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Several customers also heard something going on. And before you ask, it wasn’t the Tarlton Ordinaries stirring up trouble.’

  For all Clara said it wasn’t serious, it sounded it to me. ‘The rumpus must have been about Hetty if both Jericho and William were involved,’ I said, ‘so I’ll talk to them if I may.’ There was still that twist in the flue, though, as to why Phineas had asked me to warn Clara about Mr Harcourt’s behaviour on the same day. Why d
o that if he was coming to Dolly’s himself? He could only have had one mission, and that would have been to see Hetty. So why hadn’t Hetty told me that?

  Clara looked me straight in the face and I could see she was struggling, but she’s a brave lady. ‘Go ahead, Tom. We have to know the truth and I’ll tell Jericho and William you want to see them. You can have the greeting room.’

  *

  Jericho looked even more formidable than usual today. I looked at his brawny arms as he marched into the room flourishing a chopper and I swallowed hard. His chef’s cap and big apron did nothing to allay the fear that he was about to swing the chopper my way and doubtless that was exactly why he had brought it.

  He glared. ‘What you want with me, Wasp?’

  ‘Much the same as last time we chatted. I want to find out who topped Mr Harcourt?’

  ‘The bloke in Newgate, that’s who,’ he growled. ‘Ain’t nothing you can do about that, sweepie.’

  ‘You told the peelers he hit you. You?’ I looked at this mountain of a man meaningfully.

  ‘Yeah. Me,’ he snarled. He seemed slow of movement and thinking, but he was watching me very closely. I was watching the chopper. ‘And Will Wright,’ he added.

  It still seemed unlikely to me and he must have seen the doubt in my face because he added, ‘You ask him. And don’t come bothering me no more. I’ve got my chops to broil.’ He raised the chopper to emphasise his point.

  ‘Just a moment,’ I said mildly. ‘How did you get into this fight with Phineas Snook?’

  Jericho stared at me as though I was a leg of pork he was thinking of boning. ‘He said I was leching after Hetty.’

  ‘And then he hit you. Not you hit him?’ Punches are usually courtesy of the accused, not the accuser.

  ‘You ask Will.’

  ‘I’m asking you, first. Mrs Pomfret is getting most upset.’

  The look on his face turned into fear. A job at Dolly’s was worth a lot to a cook like Jericho.

  ‘Look you here,’ he said nervously, ‘I don’t hold nothing against you except you’re a blasted nuisance. Here’s my advice. You’ll do no good here, not now, not with him around, and you’ll be minced beef if you’re not careful. There’s people got their eye on you, so clear out.’

  ‘Not yet.’ I sounded braver than my stomach suggested. First Flint warns me off, now Jericho.

  At this his eyes bulged and the chopper was raised once more. Even though I knew he wouldn’t dare use it now, I couldn’t tell what might crawl out of the woodwork when darkness fell. So I decided to take his advice. I would clear out — at least out of his sight — and think this through even if the mysterious him was around. And this him could well be Flint, who as I knew all too well had his eye on me. The familiar voice ran through my head again, but still I had not placed it. Flint’s warning meant there must be some link between him, Mr Harcourt’s death and Dolly’s, which was an ugly situation for Clara, for Hetty — and for me.

  William was even less delighted to see me than Jericho, but he hid it better. No choppers were in sight, anyway. When he hadn’t appeared as expected, I had waylaid him as he rushed by into the kitchens. I assured him that I would still be there when he came for the next plate of steaks and chops and he’d have to talk to me before collecting them. All this food speeding by me was beginning to make me very hungry and my thoughts flew to Ned, hoping that by now he had found some supper for both of us at Hairbrine Court.

  William seemed resigned to talking to me when he next appeared and we retired to Clara’s greeting room to escape the perpetual motion that was Dolly’s at all times of day.

  ‘How can I help?’ he said in his best waiter’s voice. ‘Such terrible news about Mr Snook.’

  I couldn’t believe in his sincerity, as he had given evidence against Phineas, even though he must have been the junior partner in the set-to. ‘Most unfortunate he hit you and Jericho so badly.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed eagerly. ‘Phineas is usually a placid man, but that day he was a raging bull.’

  ‘What brought on this attack of his?’ I asked sympathetically, as if I fully believed his every word.

  William wavered. ‘Some things just happen,’ he informed me.

  ‘Not of their own accord. Did Phineas strike the first blow?’

  The answer was prompt. ‘Snook got it into his head that Hetty adores him; he wanted us to know that and keep clear of her. It’s nonsense of course, but where Jericho’s concerned, that’s dangerous. Phineas punched him hard, shouting and screaming at him to leave Hetty alone. I was trying to stop him before Jericho really became upset. Jericho lightly pushed him away and Phineas then punched me.’

  I had the impression he was reciting a prepared account, as if Jericho had been tutoring him. ‘Phineas just marched in, announced that Miss Hetty loved him and punched Jericho, then you. Nothing either of you said to upset him?’

  ‘Not a word.’ William spoke uneasily.

  ‘Most restrained of you,’ I said approvingly. ‘Did you lightly push him away, too?’

  ‘Of course.’ He was even more uneasy now.

  ‘Understandably,’ I observed. ‘Was Miss Hetty present during this fight?’

  He took his time over this one. ‘She came in after a while and was upset when she found out what Snook had done to us. Then Snook left.’

  ‘What time did he attack you?’ I asked, bearing in mind that Hetty later saw Phineas at Panyer Alley. I was beginning to sound like Constable Peters, but I was by no means sure I was getting to the heart of things as well as he does.

  ‘About four o’clock, I’d say.’ William was shifting his feet as though about to dash away. ‘Is that all, Mr Wasp? I’ve got customers to serve.’

  I ignored this. ‘But Mr Harcourt wasn’t killed until nearly midnight? Why did they charge Phineas for that?’

  William looked pleased that he had an answer for this. ‘Because Snook was shouting at us that he was going to kill Mr Harcourt. He must have hung around in the Row getting tipsy somewhere and come back to kill Mr Harcourt later.’

  That set the tinderbox alight. If that’s what happened and that’s what they told the police it was little wonder that they had arrested Phineas, but I found it even harder to believe they were talking about the Phineas I knew. ‘Did Miss Hetty hear him say that?’

  ‘Jericho did,’ he muttered.

  I was even more shaken. There was a lot I didn’t understand here. Could it be that I had been mistaken about the kind of man Phineas was? Surely not. And yet even if Jericho was lying, I couldn’t believe William was.

  ‘You’d best get back to your customers, Mr Wright,’ I said heavily.

  That brought a smile to his face. ‘Yes, I’m saving up to marry Hetty.’

  With a heavy heart, I asked Clara’s permission to speak to her daughter. I had to get this chimney swept clean somehow.

  ‘Come up to my parlour, Tom,’ Clara suggested.

  Dolly’s has always been known for its pretty lady waiters and Hetty was usually the prettiest. Today, however, with flushed cheeks and downcast expression, she looked weary when she arrived and as nervous as though I were a peeler, not a friendly sweep.

  ‘Hetty, you told me you saw Phineas in Panyer Alley in the late afternoon, but you didn’t tell me you’d seen him at Dolly’s earlier,’ I said as gently as I could.

  ‘I didn’t really see him earlier,’ she answered indignantly. ‘He was just there, that’s all. I heard a lot of shouting, so I went in and William said it was all about me. Jericho was very cross — he frightens me sometimes. Phineas was sitting on the floor, so I asked him why,’ she continued. ‘He didn’t answer and William said it was a misunderstanding, but all was well, so I went away.’

  ‘And Phineas still didn’t say anything as you left?’ Why would he have remained silent on the floor if he valued Hetty’s good opinion of him? At the very least he’d have risen to greet her.

  ‘No. So that doesn’t count as my seeing him. That’
s why I didn’t mention it earlier.’ She managed to give me one of her little smiles but this time I wasn’t thinking how lovely she looked. I was wondering what else there was to this story.

  *

  ‘My word, you look a stunner, Clara.’ Still dressed in black, but in her afternoon dress now with wide skirts swept back into that becoming bustle, she did indeed. With her warm welcoming face, she was a picture of sympathy and dignity, ready to face Mrs Harcourt’s business reception. ‘And you too, Hetty,’ I added, though it wasn’t strictly as true for her. She was looking even more dejected in her dark clothing than she had earlier.

  I’d done my best with Dolly’s laundry room washing facilities to look like a gentleman should at a business reception, though that couldn’t do much to disguise the engrained soot on my face and hands. At least that was black too, and knowing I was coming here today I’d worn my best black jacket. Clara had lent me a proper silk topper, one she keeps in case customers need one after getting tipsy and mislaying their own. She had also set aside two mutton chops for me to take home to Ned for supper that evening and presented me with a muffin to eat in the meantime.

  ‘Mrs Harcourt won’t like a sweep coming, Clara, however good a topper I have,’ I warned her.

  ‘It’s respectful,’ she replied firmly. ‘We’re thinking of the dead, not the living. What’s of more help to Mr Harcourt now: you trying your best to find out who caused his death, or a grasping wife who only cares about what he bequeathed to her?’

  Clara was right. Furthermore, St Peter doesn’t make distinctions at the Gate of Heaven between a sooty face and a pallid white one, so the same should apply at funerals. We set off for the business reception, seeing the carriages ahead of us stopping at Hart House. Mrs Harcourt’s butler, Mr Parker, was somewhat to Clara’s relief ushering guests through the open door of the bookstore, not the private door leading upstairs. The blinds were now closed in the rooms above and the usual black crepe and wreath adorned the door to the private part of the house.