He admitted that his plan would not have been possible if the prison were not being transferred to a larger, more modern building on the other side of the county.
‘And I don’t object to telling you, Mrs Porringer, that I have made substantial contributions to the Prison Reform Society,’ he said, linking his fat fingers together and regarding me. He has a pudgy face and small, rather mean eyes, but he is a well-respected businessman, and his company at Salamander House thought most prosperous. ‘As a consequence of which, the prison authorities – including the good Mr Glaister – are inclined to look favourably on any request I make.’
In short, it seems that Mr Breadspear is to purchase Deadlight Hall. I suppose a very large sum of money must be involved, but Esther Breadspear’s fortune will now be completely in his control. Everyone knows that Esther’s father, a shrewd gentleman, tied up his daughter’s money in some kind of Trust, with a great many restrictions written into it. I imagine none of those apply any longer.
Mr Breadspear intends to turn Deadlight Hall into a small orphanage, which I dare say is a very praiseworthy thing, and in addition will create what he calls an Apprentice House – a place where young people learning their trade can live. This, too, is worthy and will be useful, for Mr Breadspear himself takes a good many young apprentices into Salamander House, and there are other manufactories and organizations in this area that do the same.
He has asked me if I will take on the post of housekeeper and general manager at Deadlight Hall. He feels I would be reliable and efficient.
‘And discreet,’ he said, looking at me very intently.
Not betraying my surprise, I said, ‘I believe I could be interested. If circumstances were favourable.’
‘I should make them favourable,’ said Mr Breadspear. ‘You would not be the loser, Mrs Porringer. But there is one extremely important condition, and it would be a private – a very private – arrangement between us.’
‘Well?’
‘Within the household of Deadlight Hall I want a locked room – a completely private place of security set as far apart from the household as possible. No one must know of its existence. That means that whoever undertakes the post of manager and housekeeper will be responsible for overseeing the creation of such a room.’
‘And who would it be intended for, this room?’ I asked.
He took a moment to answer, and I had the impression that he was choosing his words very carefully. He is not what I would call an educated man, but he has learned most of the trappings of gentlemanly behaviour and speech along the way.
He said, ‘An order has been made for my wife to be deported. The colonies – Australia, I think. But I’m not prepared to let that happen.’
Now, in most men those words would have indicated a protectiveness – a determination to shield a loved one from a dreadful future. In Augustus Breadspear they indicated something very different indeed. His whole expression shifted and altered, so that it was as if someone else looked out through his eyes. Someone who was cruel and vindictive and bent on a very particular kind of revenge.
‘But surely you can’t do anything to stop it,’ I said.
‘Oh, can’t I indeed?’ He made the gesture of rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. ‘Wheels can be oiled,’ he said. ‘People in certain positions can be persuaded to bend rules.’