Shadow of the Hangman(46)

‘You are too ready to accept defeat. What happened to your natural optimism?’

‘It’s sunk without trace,’ he said, gloomily.

‘What about the lady?’

‘She’ll none of me.’

‘That’s not what I’m asking,’ said Charlotte. ‘Evidently, you’ve been very close. Pulling away from each other will be as painful for her as for you. There’s loss on both sides. How will she cope with it? Does she have a friend to whom she can turn for comfort?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ he admitted. ‘The only fact that has emerged with clarity is that I’m shackled by a cruel proviso. What I do is an expression of what I am as a man. She seems unable to accept that. As for turning elsewhere for comfort,’ he went on, lugubriously, ‘she has far too many people on whom she could call. That would be a case of twisting the knife in the wound, Charlotte. Unless I go crawling to her unconditionally, it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be forgotten. If truth be told, I’m not sure that I could cope with that eventuality.’





Hannah Granville stared unseeingly into the mirror in her dressing room. Costumed for the evening’s performance, she would normally be adding the final touches to her appearance and preening. Hannah had no urge to do that now. She was still shocked at her rejection by the man she took to be Paul Skillen. When she rode past in her carriage, he’d seen her clearly yet he didn’t exhibit the slightest interest, still less any affection for her. It was hurtful. A woman accustomed to having a legion of admirers had been deserted by the only one of them that she prized. Hannah had never been in that situation before and, as a result, had no idea how to deal with it.

Her dresser, a short, bosomy woman in her forties, with her face composed into an expression of deep anxiety, hovered behind her, desperate to reassure her but too frightened to speak. Over the years, she’d learnt how to read Hannah’s moods and react accordingly. But she’d never seen the actress plunged into such a black and debilitating melancholy before.

Someone in the corridor outside rapped hard on the door.

‘That’s your call, Miss Granville,’ said the dresser. ‘You’ll be onstage in five minutes.’ She shook Hannah gently by the shoulder. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

There was no reply. The actress didn’t move. When she looked in the mirror, the dresser saw tears starting to trickle down Hannah’s cheeks.





CHAPTER TWELVE




Since he’d not been there at the time, Dermot Fallon was intrigued to hear about the fight between Moses Dagg and the chimney sweep. When he had a drink with the fugitives at a seedy public house that evening, he pressed for details. He’d already heard a number of versions but wanted Dagg’s own testimony as well as that of his cousin, Tom O’Gara. The man who’d actually taken part in the brawl was too modest to say very much about it but his shipmate was lyrical. O’Gara not only described the fight in vivid detail but also listed all the other occasions when Dagg had knocked out opponents who’d underestimated his strength and skill.

‘We docked in New York harbour one time,’ recalled O’Gara, ‘and went ashore to slake our thirst after a long voyage. Three men began to bait Moses. He tried to ignore them but they wanted some sport. When we rolled out of there later on, the three of them were waiting for him. They called him filthy names. I was all for lambasting them but Moses pushed me aside.’

Fallon was startled. ‘He took on all three of them?’

‘He insisted, Dermot. I’d seen him fight many times but Moses had never been so riled before. He punched, grabbed, threw, kicked and bit until three blood-covered bodies were stretched out on the floor.’ O’Gara cackled. ‘Out of interest, I counted the number of teeth he’d knocked out. There were over a dozen.’

Dagg protested that his friend was exaggerating but he admitted that he’d defeated the trio of mocking sailors. Fallon clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Well done, Moses!’ he said. ‘You’re a true fighter. No wonder you got the better of Donal Kearney so easily. A word of warning,’ he added, ‘be on your guard. Kearney nurses grudges. Since he can’t beat you with his fists, he may come after you with a weapon.’

‘I’ll be ready,’ said Dagg, unafraid.

‘If he’s attacked,’ said O’Gara, ‘Moses will stick Kearney’s brushes up his ass. He won’t be able to sweep a chimney for a very long time.’

‘A lot of people would be happy about that. Donal Kearney is not too popular around here. He likes to throw his weight around.’