The Circle of Sappho (2 page)

Jack Swann sat at his usual table in the White Hart Inn and contemplated the morning ahead. He had three appointments scheduled, which in itself was not unusual. Swann liked to arrange what he called ‘obligations, duties and favours' for the first part of the day, as this allowed him, when not working on a case, to pursue other interests. These comprised mainly of walking in the countryside that lay outside the city boundaries or else climbing the hills surrounding them. From these latter vantage points he could look down and gain a perspective on the place he had begun, after almost six months, to think of as home. He had yet to return to London since arriving in Bath the previous October, but at present there were no outstanding matters to be dealt with and anything that did need attention was being taken care of by his lawyer, who kept in contact through regular correspondence.

Swann had to confess he was enjoying his first season in Bath; the period of time in the city between October and May that encompassed all manner of social events and activities, created solely to occupy the masses arriving here seeking either restitution for their health or entertainment alone. Not that he had taken part in any of the more extravagant displays of socialising, such as promenading or balls, but instead had attended several concerts and a number of performances at the Theatre Royal in Old Orchard Street – accompanying his sister, Mary, on the majority of these occasions. The physical experience of the theatre, despite having their own box, had left a lot to be desired – the extraordinary heat generated by so many bodies confined in one place made the atmosphere oppressive and stifling – but the plays they had seen were worth each sweltering moment of discomfort. He had also enjoyed an exhibition of Gainsborough's work that had been held to celebrate his time in the city and which had made the now famous painter's reputation. Another highlight he particularly remembered was a recital by Rauzzini, the famous Italian castrato, who had enthralled the assembled patrons with a repertoire consisting of Mozart, Handel and Haydn.

It had to be admitted, therefore, and much to Mary's amusement during one such conversation on the subject, that his perception of Bath as merely a frivolous and superficial place had changed, or at the very least been tempered. There was a cultural element to the city he could now observe, which he himself enjoyed immensely. Nevertheless, as he went about his daily business the shallower aspects of the place and its inhabitants were still visible; exemplified none more so than by the never-ending stream of parents who travelled to Bath in order to engage in match-making for their unmarried daughters. Their sole purpose here, therefore, being to find their offspring a suitable husband – the term ‘suitable' being merely a euphemism for ‘rich'.

There was, of course, also a darker side to the city, absent from the guidebooks, and it was this element that kept Swann in Bath; pervading his waking hours and haunting his dreams and to which theatrical, musical or artistic excursions were only temporary distractions. It was now more than twenty years since his father had been murdered while trying to protect his employers' London house from two burglars. In gratitude for this act these employers, the Gardiner family, had adopted Swann and brought him up alongside their daughter, Mary, as their own. The two criminals, however, had never been caught and Swann had sworn to bring them to justice. The man he had watched deliver the fatal blow was called Malone – at least this was the name cried out by his accomplice as the red-hot poker, held by Swann's father, had seared his right cheek. That accomplice, due to what would now be a permanent mark acquired from that murderous night, was referred to by Swann as the Scarred Man. His quest had brought him to Bath for a short visit the previous autumn, but after catching sight of what he believed to be this very person, he had decided to stay on. Swann had yet to see the man again but instinctively felt the key to his quest lay in the city; and that somehow, although he wasn't yet sure in what way, there was a connection between the Scarred Man and the local crime boss, Wicks.

Swann now had a drawing of how the Scarred Man would currently look. He had found an artist in Bath who had the unique ability to ‘age' a subject, which made it possible to see what they would look like in ten, twenty, even fifty years time. It took only a small leap of the imagination for Swann to realise he could commission a portrait of the Scarred Man as he now looked, from the description scorched in Swann's memory from all those years ago. Although the portrait had been destroyed and the artist murdered before Swann could take possession of it – he suspected Wicks of the crime – he had seen enough of the picture while it was being painted to employ his adoptive sister's artistic skills to produce an acceptable likeness, from which she then made a copy. The first drawing Swann had kept, while the other had been given to George and Bridges, the two thief-takers he employed in the city on a semi-permanent basis to help him in his quest to find the Scarred Man.

Unbeknownst to Swann, however, Mary had produced another copy for her aunt, Lady Harriet Montague-Smithson, who requested it after hearing of his ingenuity. Mary did not exactly know why she wanted it, but felt her aunt was not someone she could refuse.

And of course there was Lockhart. Swann believed the man now engaged to Mary was also, in some way, involved with Wicks, although he had as yet not been able to prove this belief. As frustrating was the fact that Lockhart's past, prior to arriving in Bath only a few weeks before Swann, seemed non-existent, or at least nothing which could be verified. The only fact he could be certain about was Mary's continuing blindness in matters of the heart; for all her intelligence, discernment and self-regard, she had accepted Lockhart's proposal of marriage less than three months after being first formally introduced. He was determined to unearth the truth about this man, and as no date for the wedding ceremony had yet been arranged, he still had time on his side. Lady Harriet seemed to be of the same opinion and so he felt he had an ally in his intention to stop this marriage from taking place.

Only the first appointment that morning was related to any of these matters. He was waiting at the White Hart for George and Bridges. They had become his eyes and ears in the notorious Avon Street district, the centre of Wicks' crime activities, and where Swann believed he had sighted the Scarred Man. Hopefully the pair would have news that would help in his search for him. In terms of trust, he believed he could depend on them with his life; indeed, they had already as good as saved his life during an assassination attempt made on him not long after he had arrived in the city. In terms of punctuality, however, this was a different matter. There was always a good reason for their lateness, most relating to ‘trouble' which had seemingly found them, like bees to honey. And yet even within this irregularity there was a pattern. As Swann had come to realise, whatever hour an arrangement had been made, the time between that appointment and their appearance at the White Hart's entrance always allowed just enough time for a second cup of coffee to be drunk. If this was to be true today, he mused, they would arrive after his next mouthful.

His thoughts briefly turned to the other appointments. The later one, with Henry Fitzpatrick, was to discuss a matter he had been told required the ‘utmost discretion'. He had grown fond of Fitzpatrick whilst in Bath and the local magistrate had proved himself a trustworthy companion, above corruption and with a moral centre that could be relied upon in any manner of situations. If George and Bridges were two men you would want beside you in a street fight, then Fitzpatrick was a man you would wish in a legal one. And even though his calm demeanour and emotional self-restraint was not at the level of a top card player, his ability as a moral compass was beyond question.

Then there was the remaining appointment, slotted in between the other two, which had led Swann to cancel returning home for breakfast with Mary. The urgent request for the meeting had been in the form of a hand-written letter that had been posted through the door of the house in Great Pulteney Street earlier that morning. There was no signature, but the paper on which the communication had been written was embossed and expensive. There was a familiarity to the handwriting, but he had not been able to yet recall what it was. It mentioned a matter of national security but other than the time and place, no other details were forthcoming. No doubt all would be revealed at the appointed hour, he thought. He then lifted his cup and drank the remaining contents of his second cup of coffee.

‘Mr Swann, sir, I know we are late but we were detained,' shouted George as he entered the White Hart. ‘We just heard news about what you've been asking us about.'

George hurried over to where Swann was sitting, as Bridges came through the door. Although he had given them money for clothes and footwear, on top of their usual pay, they still wore their usual shabby attire, which stood in marked contrast to the well-dressed clientele of the coaching inn. At least they were no longer barefoot, as they had been the first few times he had met them. No doubt George, although having a penchant for spending money on more pleasurable pursuits, knew the benefits of thick boots during the winter months in the city.

‘Do you mean the Scarred Man?' asked Swann quietly, as George stood next to his table like a pupil being addressed by a teacher.

‘Yes, sir, 'im.'

George produced the copy of the drawing he had been given. Unlike Swann's still pristine original, this was creased in several places, dirt-stained and had one corner torn.

‘What is the news, George?'

Bridges had joined his companion. He was deaf and dumb but could lip-read and sign. For some reason, Swann observed, he was doing neither at present.

‘He is in the city again.'

‘Someone has seen him?'

‘Yes, sir, or so they say. That is why we're late. There was a message at the Fountain, saying a man we know wanted to see us. We went to his stall in Horse Street but he wasn't there. Then we came here. We'll go later.'

‘This is the same stallholder as before?'

George nodded. When they had begun showing the drawing around the market traders and stallholders in ‘the hate', as the Avon Street district was known locally, one of them had recognised its subject. He had seen him a few times in the area, so he said, during the past couple of years. He always remembered him from an incident near his stall. The man had a long scar on his right cheek and had been walking with the previous crime boss, before Wicks, when three men had attacked them. One of the attackers had been killed outright by this Scarred Man, who had produced a short bayonet and stabbed him. The crime boss had despatched the second man and wounded the third. As this third man lay on the floor the crime boss put his boot on the man's bleeding leg and began to press down. The man screamed in agony but wouldn't say the name of the person behind the attack. After more of the same, along with a promise his life would be spared if he told them, he did so. The Scarred Man then stepped forward and thrust the already bloodied bayonet through his throat. He had only said a few words during the incident but it was enough to know he came from London.

The last time the stallholder had seen him, however, was sometime last year, possibly October or November, he said. He had been alone with his head down, but it was definitely him. This last sighting, around the time Swann believed he had seen him, confirmed in his mind that the man he had been searching for all these years had been in the city. And with the stallholder wanting to see George and Bridges it might be that he was back; that he was somewhere in the city at this very moment. Swann had the urge to leave the White Hart and take to the streets looking for the stallholder or even the Scarred Man himself, but he had two more appointments to keep and George and Bridges had promised they would look for the stallholder as soon as they left.

‘Devote all your time to this George until you find him,' said Swann. ‘I will make sure it is worth your trouble, both of you.'

‘Yes sir!' said George.

‘I have a couple of appointments to keep this morning but leave a message at my office if you find out anything more. Otherwise I suggest we meet at the Fountain Inn this evening at the usual time.'

George nodded, although Bridges' gaze showed he was still elsewhere. As well as noticing he had not been lip-reading or signing, Swann had also observed he had a black eye. This was not an unusual sight for the pair but it was normally George, through an altercation with an angry husband or suchlike, who bore it.