The Darker Arts by Oscar de Muriel

Author:Oscar de Muriel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781409187646
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2019-08-08T05:00:00+00:00

25

By the next day, everyone in Edinburgh talked of nothing but the trial.

Mrs Holt had given venomous statements to the press, detailing her miserable dwellings, how her poor little child would die of hunger, and how callously she’d been treated by a police inspector whose name she did not wish to recall, but who happened to have nine fingers. The article was illustrated with a drawing of the woman carrying her child, which made her look like a grieving Madonna.

The papers also announced that Colonel Grenville would receive a military funeral, scheduled for Friday. He and his wife would be buried in the grounds of St Cuthbert’s Church, in his family crypt, while the other four would go to Grange Cemetery, closer to Morningside. All the bodies, however, would be present during the larger-than-life service at St Giles’ Cathedral, followed by a solemn procession. In the last lines, the newspaper exhorted the public to stay away and respect the grief of the few surviving relatives. I could only laugh at the irony. The article was more like an open invitation, designed to exacerbate the public resentment.

As expected, when I made it to the City Chambers there was a small crowd gathered at the entrance, calling for justice for the good colonel and demanding Mr Holt be allowed ‘to return to his sweet wife’.

I lowered my head, trying to conceal my face with my hat, and managed to scuttle through without being seen. I was not surprised to walk into the office and find McGray still bent over the photographs, with the magnifying glass and wearing the same clothes.

‘Is it morning already?’ he said when he saw me come in. I pointed at the dull light coming through the barred windows. ‘Och, right!’

He blew out the oil lamp on the desk and rubbed his eyes.

‘Did you find anything?’ I asked him.

‘Only one thing, but it just confused me even more.’

He showed me the photograph that directly preceded the one with the dark hand. There was something on the tablecloth, right on the edge of the photograph, which had not appeared in any of the previous images. It looked like a dark pebble.

‘Is that the gold nugget?’ I asked.

‘Aye. She took it off. That would explain how Holt “found it” on the floor ; it most likely fell during the commotion and rolled close to the door. So Holt was telling the truth.’

I frowned. ‘Why would she do that? If I saw a twisted hand floating in mid-air, the last thing I’d worry about is removing my cufflinks.’

‘Nae only that. The nugget was a protection charm. It’d be like a nun seeing the devil and deciding to drop her rosary.’

I sighed. ‘One more bloody thing to consider. And you say you found nothing else?’

He let out a long sigh. ‘Nothing, and I better stop looking. These are driving me mad.’

I checked the time. ‘Shall we go and question the surviving Shaws? They are the only relatives we have yet to question.’

‘Aye, but I need to go ’n’ get some breakfast first, I’m starving.

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