Tom Wasp and the Seven Deadly Sins by Amy Myers

Author:Amy Myers [Myers, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Quill
Published: 2019-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

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The Chimney Darkens

I still could put no name to the voice I had heard, save that I was certain it must have been Flint’s. Danger does its work best when it’s unrecognised, as fear strikes tenfold when it taps you on the shoulder. Was Flint behind me in the crowds that flock around the Row and the Churchyard? Would he be waiting to pounce on me when I reached Hairbrine Court this evening? Was he in the carriage that had clattered past or already inside Dolly’s enjoying one of Jericho’s mutton chops?

Tom Wasp, you’re losing your grip, I told myself. Choose a different chimney. There was a play by Mr Shakespeare I’d seen at the penny gaff about one of our kings called Henry who won a big battle in France at Agincourt. He hadn’t merely relied on his generals’ plans for the fight ahead; he’d gone out the night before wrapped in a cloak so that he wasn’t recognised and had a word with some of his foot soldiers, listening to what they had to say. Did Flint do that? He left all his violent evil deeds to Slugger and more delicate matters to Lairy John, so how did he know what was going on? Sometimes he would need to see for himself, not just sit in a tavern or swell coffee house counting up his money.

Like King Henry, Flint must be very near me. He was also likely to be close to whoever had paid him for the job, which brought the unwelcome thought that he might be connected to Dolly’s or, more likely, to the Tarlton Ordinaries. I might have been chatting to him unknowingly. Assuming the manuscript was the reason for Mr Harcourt’s murder, could Mr Harcourt have come to know Flint himself during his dealings with Lairy John?

I wondered whether I might have stepped half an inch nearer to the truth, but if so in which direction was I stepping? Towards the Ordinaries? Or Jericho and William? I looked up at Dolly’s welcoming façade that still beckoned all comers, despite the violent murder in its yard. Nevertheless, I still had to talk to Clara, however hard it was, given that one of Dolly’s staff or customers was almost certainly guilty of it.

Clara looked worried to see me here so unexpectedly after my visit to Mr Chalcot, and even more concerned when I asked if I might have a word with her daughter. ‘The girl’s not herself, Tom. She’s blaming herself for Phineas being in prison. Every day she insists on taking his food up herself, even though she knows she won’t be allowed to see him. Cruel it is, cruel, the way they treat those prisoners. And Phineas not even had his trial yet.’

‘She could be upset because there’s more she hasn’t told us, Clara.’ I saw fear in her face. There was no answer she could give but she took me upstairs to the coffee-room where we saw Hetty clearing plates away. She looked frightened to see both of us together.

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