“Because I wanted to talk to him. I thought he was either doped up or ignoring me on purpose.”
“Why did you want to talk to him?”
“This is sounding not unlike an interrogation,” Crane observed. “And I’m reasonably sure I don’t come under your jurisdiction.”
“Here’s my problem,” Esther said. “How many of you old China hands and Java men are there in London? All these people who lived on the other side of the world and know each other?”
“I don’t know. A couple of hundred, all told?”
“Mmm. And a week ago one of you is stabbed, and another kills himself, and now a third is ripped to shreds by rats, just like two more Chinese down in Limehouse. Would you normally expect to lose three members of your club by violence in less than a fortnight?”
“Not usually, no.”
“So, three dead men. And a fourth man who belongs to the same club, who is there when we’re finding out about more men killed by rats, who picks a lock to find a body—”
“Ah, no, wait a moment,” said Crane. “I see your thinking, but you’re making a logical error.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You’re looking at my involvement with Rackham as a factor, whereas it’s more like a condition. I met Mr. Day because I knew Rackham. Mr. Day asked me to help yesterday because he knew me through Rackham. I came here this morning on an unrelated matter, because I knew Rackham. The coincidence—I know that’s not a popular word—lies with Rackham’s involvement with rats, not mine with Rackham.”
Esther didn’t look convinced. “You came to see him by pure chance, picking a lock to do it.”
Crane ignored that. He was trying not to look at Stephen, but peripheral vision was showing him a very white face, and he could almost feel the younger man’s sickening tension. If Stephen felt this was necessary for the investigation, he would speak, Crane knew it, and he willed him to be silent a little longer. Merrick’s words were buzzing in his brain, but this was something he could shape and Stephen couldn’t, and surely that was only sensible. “Look, Mrs. Gold, I’ll grant you the rats tie Rackham and Willetts together, but as to Merton’s suicide and my involvement… Assuming the other death you mean is Merton?”
“Yes,” said Stephen colourlessly.
“You think it’s coincidence that another of your friends killed himself a week ago, just before all this?” Esther interjected.
“Merton was no friend of mine.” Crane paused deliberately. “I don’t have any idea of what’s going on here. But, in case it’s relevant, I will tell you this. Rackham was a blackmailer.”
Stephen gave a tiny gasp. Esther said, “Rackham?”
“Yes. I don’t know if he was blackmailing Merton, but I assume so. I know that he was attempting to blackmail at least two other people. Both China hands, like Merton, like Rackham.”
“Like you?”
“Exactly like me,” said Crane calmly. “I came here with the intention of beating him to a pulp, only to find him very obviously dead by rat. I can’t say I mourn his passing.”
“Did you tell Rickaby this?”
“Good God, no.”
“What hold did Rackham have over you?”
“Esther!” yelped Stephen.
“Nothing that worried me. I’m afraid my profound lack of interest in my family name makes me a terrible subject for extortion.”
“Is that so. But presumably Rackham knew that,” said Esther. “So why did he try?”
Crane shrugged as casually as he could. “He probably hoped I’d throw him a few quid to go away. I might even have done.” Esther kept looking at him, dark eyes intent, nostrils slightly flaring. Crane concentrated on keeping his body relaxed, not filling the silence.
Esther spoke first. “Who else was he blackmailing?”
“I’m not telling you that. I only know of one other person, and that individual is not a practitioner, has nothing to do with any of this, and has suffered quite enough insult at Rackham’s hands already.”
“What makes you think the Pied Piper is a practitioner?” asked Esther.
“What?”
“It’s what we’re calling the summoner.” Stephen’s voice sounded slightly thin to Crane’s ears. “Pied Piper. Rats.”
“Yes, I grasp that. How could it not be a practitioner?”
“It depends on the method used,” Stephen said. “But it could quite possibly be someone with latent talent or very limited powers. Someone we don’t know about.”
Crane digested that. “So it could be anyone who knew Willetts’ story, who’d learned the incantation or had hold of this amulet?”
“Anyone who knew Willetts well, and who wanted Rackham and two Chinese practitioners dead.” Esther raised a brow. “Can you think of anyone like that?”
“According to Rackham, neither of those shamans spoke English,” Stephen added. “So whoever wanted them dead must have been involved with China, to have any connection with them.”