Breaking the Circle by M.J. Trow

Author:M.J. Trow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448308316
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2022-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

NINE

John Kane had not been convinced when the first medium died but he needed no convincing now. He had seen the crime-scene sketches and could see at a glance that here was someone who needed stopping and the sooner the better. But the world of the medium was a shadowy one. In some ways, they trod a line which was often on the wrong side of the law and there was a thickish file among the shoeboxes in the basement which contained the names and details of mediums who had had complaints made against them and – perhaps more importantly at this stage – those who had made the complaints. If one name cropped up more than once, it would give them somewhere to start from because, at the moment, they couldn’t find one single set of facts which tied the women together.

Kane sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair and ending by rubbing his eyes. ‘I don’t mind telling you, Sergeant,’ he said, keeping it formal, ‘that I am at my wits’ end with this one. If I have one more raddled old constable taking me aside in the canteen and telling me that it’s the Ripper all over again, I swear to you I will swing for the old bastard.’

Crawford was young enough to be indulgent. ‘It was their most exciting time,’ he said. ‘My grandfather-in-law is the same about the Wairau Affray.’

Kane dropped his hands to the desk and cocked his head interrogatively. ‘The do what now?’

‘Exactly. He was sent to New Zealand when they were having trouble with the Maoris. He didn’t see any other action and when he came home, he resigned his commission and went into the family business.’

Kane remembered. ‘Scouring powder.’

‘The same. But you can see how fighting some largely invisible and scary warriors in a foreign country trumps selling scouring powder any day. We refight the arrests of Te Rauparaha and Te Rangihaeata every Christmas, without fail. I’ve only seen it done using mustard pots and the remains of a goose, but it was apparently very exciting. It’s the same with these old constables. They’ve beaten the same bounds for decades – they don’t want to waste a moment if it comes to telling a whippersnapper where he’s going wrong.’

Kane chuckled. ‘I don’t feel much of a whippersnapper most mornings when I first think of getting out of bed,’ he said, ‘but you make a good point. It doesn’t help up with this case, though, does it? He’s ramping up the violence and I don’t know where it’s going to end.’

‘It will end with him being caught,’ Crawford said, decisively.

‘It must be a him, mustn’t it?’ Kane said. ‘I thought at first … poison, you know. Woman’s weapon and all that. But this.’ He glanced at the sketches again. ‘Surely, no woman is capable of such violence?’

‘In the normal run, I would say no,’ Crawford agreed. ‘But there seems to be a vein of what we have to call madness running through it all.

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