The Dark Palace

The wall of backs parted. Several bewildered, bewhiskered faces turned at once to confront their admonisher. Initial aggression turned to chastened deference when they saw Qui

Macadam confirmed their suspicions. ‘That’s right. Special Crimes. It’s our case now. You men better make way.’

There was a moment while the locals filed out. In fact, there had only been three men in there, but the room was small, and the men were big.

The air was dead and stifling, filled with the odours of the night before. Alcohol and cigarette smoke were the strongest, but there were also more obscure and somehow more potent smells. Qui

Of course, he knew straight away. ‘This is not her. It’s not the girl who was attacked in Cecil Court.’

‘Are you sure, sir?’

‘You saw her, did you not, Macadam?’

‘That I did, sir. But it was dark.’

‘For one thing, it was the other eye. But this girl – this is someone else. This girl is an actress, of sorts. She was in the film, last night. And she was at the premiere. And I believe at the party afterwards.’ Qui

One of the men stepped forward with a barely perceptible dip of the head, a gesture in the direction of a bow. His face was sunken-cheeked, its grey pallor tinged by bristles like iron filings. At the sides, the bristles burgeoned into mutton-chop whiskers. ‘The room was rented by a couple by the name of Novak. A neighbour has identified her as the wife. Dolores Novak.’

‘And her husband? Do you know where he is?’

‘Done a bunk, we reckon.’

Qui

‘We thought of that, guv. He’s a foreigner, see.’

‘And has the medical examiner seen her yet?’

‘He has, guv.’

‘Did he have anything of interest to say?’

‘Cause of death as you’d expect, guv. Loss of blood caused by her wounds.’

‘Wounds?’

‘She had her throat cut as well as her eye taken out. He seemed to think it was a botched job. The entry point of the blade ought to have missed her carotid artery, according to the doctor. But somehow it found it.’

‘So there was a lot of blood?’ Qui

‘You could say that, guv. It was that, coupled with the excessive shock to the heart what did for her. Whoever did this, left her to die.’

‘And her husband, if he was here, did nothing to help her either, it seems. Even if he is not the man who took her eye out.’

‘Neighbours attest to some rum comings and goings in the night, guv. Seems there may have been some other individuals here. No one saw anyone, of course. A question of raised voices.’

‘An altercation?’

‘There may have been. A level of intoxication was attested to. Some kind of party. If you take my meaning.’

Qui

‘He did. And there had. Someone had shot their bolt inside her. It may or may not have been her husband. Them other individuals were thought to be men.’

Qui

‘What am I looking for in particular, sir?’

‘Any evidence of her visitors would be helpful. If someone left in a hurry, there is a chance they might have left something behind.’

Macadam’s ruthless eye was already taking in the room. From his bearing, it was clear that he would consider it a matter of pride to come up with something.

Before he left, Qui

THIRTY-SIX

As he turned from the open expanse of Charing Cross Road into the sun-starved alleyway of Cecil Court, Qui

The scene replayed itself in his mind. It took on the quality of a kinematograph projection, flickering, grainy, juddering and monochrome. In fact, it was like several films projected simultaneously, and repeatedly. At first, the layered multiplicity of images confused him. It was hard to see through the ever-shifting fog of movement.

But then his perceiving mind got used to the patterns of repetition in the presentation that his subconscious mind was trying to force on him. One detail cut through. The iris of the eye he had held in his hand.

This was the only part of the mental diorama to have colour.

But his mind must have been playing tricks on him. It presented the eye to him as blue. And yet he remembered – not as a visual memory, but as a factual memory – the moment when he had first consciously registered the colour of her eyes.

He had been talking to Lord Dunwich. He had opened the handkerchief in which the eye was wrapped and looked down to see a brown eye looking back at him.

This was why, as Macadam would no doubt remind him, it was so important to gather firm evidence, and subject it to meticulous scientific scrutiny. Memory was unreliable. His own mind could not even agree with itself as to the colour of her eyes. Fortunately, he had retrieved the enucleated eye and sent it for analysis by a pathologist. All that he lacked was the girl from whom it had been taken.

He was admitted by Magnus Porrick, who was apparently on his way out, and highly distraught. He stared wildly into Qui

Something about that look persuaded Qui

‘But I have to find him!’

‘Who?’ For a moment Qui

‘Scudder.’

Qui

‘My dog, Scudder. He’s gone missing.’

‘That was the animal who found the girl’s eye?’