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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Mermaid in the Basement
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He sat very still and wondered when his parents would come.He had been thrust into the cell without a word, although he had tried to ask the jailer when he could see visitors. The jailer had simply grunted, thrust him inside, and slammed the door, bolting it with a resounding clang.

Time seemed to crawl, and Clive forced himself to be still. He lay down and pulled the blanket over him. It was rough to the touch and stank of sweat and things even worse. Finally he heard a faint sound, and then the clang of the bolt outside. Eagerly he threw the blanket aside and stood to his feet. The door opened, and he was blinded by even the feeble light. “Bang on the door when you want out, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Clive blinked and stared at the man who had entered, then he whispered hoarsely, “Dylan, it’s you!”

“Yes, Clive.” Dylan came forward and put his arm around Clive’s shoulder. Clive had never been one for giving or receiving this kind of salute from his male friends, but the strong form of Dylan Tremayne was all that was real in his world. “Dylan, I’m—I’m glad you came. I’m losing my mind!”

“I don’t doubt it. It’s an awful place, this. I’ve been in a jail or two myself, and this is about as bad as any. Maybe your parents can use their influence to get you a better place.”

“You’ve got to talk to them, Dylan. I’ve got to get out of this place. I’m losing my mind!”

Dylan said, “Of course I will. As soon as I leave here, I’ll go to them. I’m sure they can do something.”

“It’s all a terrible mistake. I didn’t kill Kate! I swear I didn’t!”

“I want you to tell me everything that you can remember about what happened after you left the theatre.
Everything
, Clive. Don’t leave anything out.”

Clive felt so weak he couldn’t stand. “I’ve got to sit down,” he gasped. He sat on the cot, and Dylan sat down beside him, keeping his arm on the young man’s shoulder. “It’s all like a bad dream. I was so drunk. I was drunk when I got to the theatre, and when I left there I went into a public house. I think the White Elephant was the name of it, but I’m not even sure about that. The White something.”

“How long did you stay there?”

“I don’t know. I stayed there until I was pretty drunk, then I got up, left there. All I could think of was what Kate had done to me. How she had led me on and made a fool out of me.”

“Where did you go next?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just walked and walked. I thought I’d sober up and go find her again. That was the crazy thought that was in my mind.”

“Did you go to her house?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m sure of that.” Suddenly he looked at Dylan and said, “Do you think I killed her, Dylan?”

Dylan hesitated. “I’ll tell you this, Clive. I don’t think you have it in you to murder a woman, but even if you did, it’s your friend I am.” The words came as a welcome relief to Clive. He felt the tears run down his cheeks and whispered, “I haven’t cried since I was six years old.”

“It’s not wrong to cry. I do it myself sometimes.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then you don’t know me.Welshmen are pretty emotional, see? We laugh and we cry quite a bit. Now what about this woman? Do you remember anything about the district?”

“I walked a long time. I think it was Seven Dials, but I’m not sure. I do remember passing a public house with some kind of a bird out on the sign. I don’t know whether it was a hawk or an eagle. It was a badly painted sign, but it was right about there I was so drunk I couldn’t see straight and this woman came out and—I know it sounds crazy, Dylan, but I thought if I went with her it would somehow get me even with Kate.

Stupid, isn’t it?”

“We all do stupid things. This is very important. I’ve got to find that woman. She’s got to testify that you spent the night with her.”

“I wasn’t there all night.”

“Where did you go with her?”

“She had rooms. They were upstairs somewhere. She had more whiskey, and I drank it. I was about to pass out, but I found her going through my clothes, taking the money I had.”

“What did you do then?”

“I hit out at her, and she came at me with her claws out. That’s where I got my face all clawed up. The police didn’t believe me, but that’s the way it was.”

“All right, Clive. Now tell me everything you can remember about this woman.”

Clive was silent. He shut his eyes, and his face twisted in a grimace.

“It’s like trying to go back into a nightmare. I remember she was tall, nearly as tall as me, and she was built strongly.”

“What colour was her hair?”

“It was—it was light-coloured hair, but I don’t know if it was dyed or not.”

“Can you remember anything about her face?”

“No. She wasn’t beautiful. I know that. I thought she was ugly at the time.”

“Was she wearing any jewellery?”

“She had on some kind of necklace. I remember it glittered in the gaslight, but I don’t know what it was. Probably some cheap jewellery.”

For some time Dylan persisted in his questioning, and finally he said, “I found out, Clive, that if you think on something long enough, your memory is like a deep well.You try to scoop something up on the surface, and it isn’t there because it’s sunk to the bottom. But it’s still there, my boy; it’s still there. You think on this, and maybe you can think of more details of where the woman’s room was, what was outside. Did you see anyone? Did you pass anybody? Or remember something that you saw in the room itself?”

“I don’t think I can remember.”

“You’ve probably not been trying to. You’ve probably been trying to forget, but that’s exactly what you must not do. I’m going to help you, Clive. I know that part of London pretty well, and I’m going to hunt for that woman. But I don’t have much to go on.”

“You can’t help me, Dylan. No one can help me.”

“The good God can help you,” Dylan said simply.

But Clive had been too strongly taught by his father and by his sister. “I don’t believe in God,” he said, bitterness in his voice.

“Well, He believes in you, and I believe in you, Brother. I’m going to leave now. I’ll go tell your parents to get you into a better place. I’m sure your father has some kind of influence.”

“I remember my mother’s a good friend of the superintendent that arrested me.His name is Winters.Maybe Mother can talk to Mrs.Winters and get her husband to get me a better place.”

“I have no doubt that will happen. Good-bye for now.”Dylan walked over and banged on the door and called out loudly. In a few moments the bar rattled. Dylan turned and said, “God hasn’t forgotten you, boy. Not one to forget, the Lord God. He’ll not see you perish.”

The door opened then, and Dylan passed through it. As it shut, Clive sank back onto the cot. He thought of what Dylan had said, and he gritted his teeth.He began going back over his murky memories, trying to remember some detail that would help.Dylan’s visit had brought a moment’s hope, but now in the gloom of the cell it seemed to be slowly fading.

Dylan left the prison and hailed a hansom cab.

“Where to, sir?”

“The east side. I’ll have to direct you when we get there. Drive as fast as you can.”

“That I will, sir.”

Dylan settled back, but his jaw was tense. He began to pray for guidance. His favourite Scripture had long been “Do any of you lack wisdom? Let him ask of God who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not.” He shook his head and thought,
Well, Lord, it’s wisdom I need. Help me to
help that poor fellow. He’s not one of Yours, Lord, not yet. But he’s badly in
need of Your love and mercy. So use me as Your instrument to bring him out
of that prison
.

The household had been humming with the news. The servants, of course, knew more about the Newtons and the viscountess than anyone else. They sat in the kitchen eating the evening meal, and Albert Givins, the coachman, was holding forth. “I tell yer it’s a terrible thing when a man gets accused of murder.” He was a small Cockney with sandy hair and blue eyes, and when he ate he tasted nothing, as if he were storing food in his mouth for further use.

Mrs. Rachel Fielding, the housekeeper, shook her head. “It’s a sad thing, but he’s always been a wild young man.”

Danny Spears was eating the lamb that was set before him, hacking it into pieces with a knife and stuffing it into his mouth.“Aw, ’e ain’t killed nobody. ’E ain’t no murderer.”

“The police think he is.” James sat at the head of the table. He was in charge of the male servants while Mrs. Fielding was in charge of the maids. “You should have seen him when they took him away. He looked guilty if ever a man did.”

Nessa, the cook, sat next to Ellie, the tweeny housemaid. They made quite a contrast, Nessa large and fat and Ellie thin as a splinter. “I’ll never believe it of the young man.He’s got a good heart, he has, just a bit wild.”

Albert glared at James. No love was lost between the two, and Albert said, “You don’t know nuffin’ about it, Mr. Barden. The police make mistakes all the time.”

“This was Scotland Yard, not just the police, and they had all the evidence.”

“Wot kind of evidence?” Peter Grimes asked. He was a tall, handsome man, as footmen should be, with black hair and brown eyes, and sturdily built. “What did they say?”

“They found the jewels,” Barden said with some satisfaction.

“What jewels was that?” Mrs. Fielding demanded.

“The jewellery of the actress that was murdered. They found them in Master Clive’s bedroom. They were hidden.”

“Well, that’s a bad one!” Peter said. “I expect ’e’ll go down with evidence like that.”

“That wasn’t all,” Barden said. “They found a bloodstained handkerchief in his room. He said it was from a nosebleed.”

“How do you know all of this?” Nessa demanded. “Were you there?”

Barden looked discomfited. “They were talking rather loudly. I was waiting outside the door.”

Nessa suddenly sniffed. “You mean you were eavesdropping.”

“Call it what you will. It’s our business to help this family. I thought I might hear something that might be of use to the master.”

“Poor Mrs.Newton! She ain’t stopped crying since they took Mr.Clive away,” Mrs. Fielding said. “It’s only right she should cry. If they hang him, she’ll have lost her son.Mothers ought to cry over something like that.”

“Well, ’e ain’t ’ung yet,” Albert Givins sniffed.

The servants continued to talk, until finally Mrs. Fielding said, “That’s enough talk about this, and I don’t want to hear of any of you talking to anybody outside. That goes for all of you women. It goes for you men also. This is family business. We will not speak of it to anyone outside.”

Serafina had spent much of the day trying to restore some sort of order. Her father seemed to be numbed by what had happened.He could handle a scientific problem of any sort with his massive intellect. But she had always known that handling personal problems was not his strong point. Her father seemed to be numbed by what had happened.He could handle a scientific problem of any sort with his massive intellect. But she had always known that handling personal problems was not his strong point.

She had stayed with her mother much of the day and had sent Danny outside with David, with instructions to keep him occupied. “Let him do anything he wants to as long as he doesn’t get hurt.”

BOOK: The Mermaid in the Basement
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