Page 47

Tuesday, 20 June, 8.24 a.m.

A few minutes later, we were back upstairs in Miss Decima’s parlour and I was pouring Mr Gussett a cup of tea. His dishevelled state was even more clear to see in daylight: his hair was thick with grease and he evidently hadn’t changed his clothes in days.

‘Sorry about all that,’ he said. ‘And for the mess downstairs, too. I’ve been trying to sort it out, but Aunt Theodora always dealt with those sorts of matters. Not much I know about housework, being a bachelor and that, ha, ha, ha.’

I shook my head. ‘It’s disgraceful, what the police did. They’ve got no right to wreck a person’s home like that.’

‘Oh! That wasn’t the police,’ said Clarence cheerfully. ‘That was me. I was searching for Detectiphones.’

He took a sip of tea, as if he’d just said the most natural thing in the world.

‘Detectiphones?’ Miss Decima repeated.

She’d been doing this a lot lately – repeating the last thing someone said in order to keep them talking. I blamed the Freud book.

‘Listening devices!’ said Clarence excitedly. ‘Marvellous things. You hide them in a room, under a bed, say, and then run a wire through a wall to another building perhaps, and then you can listen in on people’s conversations. There are thousands of them, all over the city, so the police can keep a record of every single thing you say and do.’

He took another sip of tea. I shared a glance with Miss Decima. ‘Er … how would they do that, exactly?’

‘Ask them!’ he insisted. ‘Though of course don’t believe a word they tell you. They are experts at deception and subterfuge! It would have been perfectly easy for them to install Detectiphones in the apartment on Saturday evening, while Aunt Theodora was at the demonstration. That’s why I felt it safe for us to come up here, where they can’t hear us. You never know who’s around you in a city.’ He put his cup back in his saucer. ‘I haven’t found any yet. Detectiphones, I mean. They must have … removed them afterwards somehow. I mean, that’s perfectly possible. There’s no limit to their wickedness.’

I stole another glance at Miss Decima. ‘He’s cracked,’ I mouthed.

‘Forgive my ignorance, Mr Gussett,’ she said, ignoring me. ‘But why might the police wish to eavesdrop on you and your aunt?’

Clarence gave her an incredulous look, as if the answer was perfectly obvious. ‘Why – our political leanings, of course. Police intrusion has been a constant struggle! Believe me, I’ve attended plenty of suffrage meetings that were broken up by plain-clothes police officers!’

Miss Decima nodded. ‘You are a suffragist, then?’

Clarence nodded. ‘Universal suffrage, mainly. But the matter of female suffrage is just as vital, if not more so. I can’t join the WSPU, on account of their rules for membership, but it is especially vital, I think, for men to lend their voices, so I subscribe to as many different committees and organizations as I can: the Men’s League for Women’s Suffrage, the Men’s Committee for Justice to Women, the New Union for Men and Women, the Men’s Political Union for Women’s Enfranchisement …’

His words were coming out faster and faster. His hands started shaking and spilling his tea. He yelped mid-sentence, shocked by the burn. ‘Oh! I – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry …’

‘Allow me,’ I said, taking his cup and dabbing at his trousers.

Clarence let it happen, looking crestfallen. I felt terribly for him then. He seemed like some little lost boy, not a man in his thirties.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘I … I must admit that I have not been myself over the last few days. Aunt Theodora was always very good at looking after me, helping me get back on my feet after my nervous spells. That’s why I live with her. It’s just for the time being, mind, until my practice gets properly on its feet.’

‘Practice?’ Miss Decima repeated.

‘My dentistry practice!’ said Clarence, taking the bait. ‘Just a small place up in Hampstead, on West End Lane. Not the most convenient location to travel to every day, but you get a moneyed clientele up there and the competition around here is fierce. I have to have an assistant to keep up the right impression, which is all fairly expensive, hence why Aunt Theodora lets me live with her. Just for the time being.’

I was aghast. He was a dentist. When I was a boy, there was a man at the Romney Fair called Father Gareth – he wasn’t a priest – who’d take your teeth out with pliers. He used to steady himself by putting his boot on your chest. I would rather have paid him to sort out my teeth than Clarence Gussett.

My feelings must have shown on my face because Clarence gazed at me sheepishly. ‘I can see what you’re thinking. I know I don’t look much like a dentist. I never wanted to be one, if I’m honest. If I’d had my way, I would have been an explorer. Travel the world, collect rare specimens, that sort of thing. I’ve always had a fascination for strange insects and the like. You probably noticed all the bits and pieces that I keep in my bedroom!’ He sighed. ‘But Father always insisted that I have a respectable profession. He was a doctor, so I followed him into medical school, but then I got one of my nervous illnesses in my first year and … well, hey ho. Dentistry it was.’

He glanced up at me – I had that sense, once again, that he was looking at something behind me. Something that kept catching his attention for a moment before he turned away.

‘Any job is better than nothing, I suppose,’ he said. ‘I had an awful lot of trouble getting back on my feet after my parents passed away. I had another one of my illnesses, so Aunt Theodora let me move in with her, and I’ve never left. As I said, she … she’s been terribly good to me.’

He let his gaze settle on the floor. My heart went out to him then, truly. What he needed was a hand on his shoulder – a kind word, even. I did the next best thing and topped up his tea.

‘It’s not a bad job,’ he insisted. ‘People say dentistry is boring, but there’s an art to it. Working out how much gas to use for a patient is dreadfully tricky, for example. I prefer the cocaine injection: easier to calculate the right amount for a client’s age and weight and ten times more reliable.’ He suddenly cheered up. ‘You should come and see me, Miss Decima! I’d be very happy to prepare a new false set for you, when your current one needs replacing.’

She actually had three sets: one for speaking, one for eating and one for shouting. ‘That’s very kind. Forgive me for changing the subject, Mr Gussett, but it might help if we focused on the matter at hand. Perhaps you could relate to us the events that occurred prior to Saturday evening?’

Clarence blinked at her, dazed for a moment – then his face transformed. He almost leapt off the sofa. ‘Yes! That’s it! That’s what makes the whole thing so suspicious!’