Convicted Innocent(22)

“Oh.” Simon squinted at the twisted, bent insignia with a frown. “So Lew or someone impersonating him was there, most likely.”

“And it seems Sergeant Todd vanished with or at the same time as the lot of them.”

Both men were silent for a moment, and then Simon asked, “Rather odd, isn’t it, sir? Having two disappearances linked to a squad nobody knows of or has seen since, all within a few hours of each other. If we’re calling Sergeant Todd’s absence a disappearance, that is.”

Tipple cocked his head to one side. “What are the odds, you suppose, that the same men responsible for springing Mr. Harker from prison would also kidnap one of the policemen instrumental in the case against the same Mr. Harker?”

“Is he that?” Simon asked.

“Pardon?”

“Instrumental? Is Sergeant Todd’s testimony so valuable that the case against Nicholas Harker and the whole clan would suffer from its absence?”

“It might, only Lewis has already given his statement in court to the satisfaction of both the defense and prosecution.”

“Might he have discovered new evidence, sir? Something that might scare Harker’s supporters into taking drastic action?”

The promptness with which Tipple replied made the sergeant think the old man had already considered this.

“The timing would be wrong for that. Sergeant Todd finished giving testimony the same morning he disappeared. If he’d uncovered something prior to that, he would’ve at least made note of it at the Bailey; if after, however, it would’ve been too little time for Harker’s people to put something together.”

“Unless they suspected Lew had discovered something – even if he didn’t realize the significance of his discovery at the time – and intervened before the new information could come to light publicly.” Simon ran a finger across his broad moustache. “Perhaps Harker’s people merely used the team already prepared to spring him to nab Sergeant Todd as well.”

The inspector pursed his lips. “Then he was likely the unwitting victim of the Harker clan’s machinations.”

There was a further possibility that remained unmentioned, something Simon knew neither he nor the inspector would ever seriously consider: that Lewis Todd was in the Harkers’ pocket. A dirty copper could have wanted an out and had it supplied by his bankrollers; Lewis, however, was one of the most honest policemen in all the East End.

“While I hope that isn’t the case for Mr. Todd’s sake,” Tipple said after a lengthy pause, “I shan’t need to divert any manpower should things be as you say. Finding one should lead us to the other.”

* * * * *

“David.”

David Powell didn’t remember falling asleep. He’d been sitting on the floor with his elbows resting on his drawn up knees, thinking. He thought he’d only rested his head on his forearms for a moment, but when he looked up again the light and shadows had noticeably shifted.

Now the room – so much like yesterday’s cell, only smaller – had an odd cast to it, as though the ancient clay dust had been kicked up from the floor to paint the air with a muted haze.

“David.”

The priest started at the sound of his name spoken again, and started further when he saw his friend was conscious and sitting upright against the near wall.

“Lew—!”

“David,” the policeman said a third time, his voice steady, if hardly more than a whisper. “Let’s forget for a time that each of us has an Englishman for a father…forget the cold Victorian for a moment.”