The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [93]
From what he had been told about the father, Pyke did not imagine that the man would easily give up information about his family, nor did Pyke think he could be tricked or fooled into doing so.
Pyke pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. In the middle of the orderly room was a fire with stumps of cut wood and turf glowing in the metal grate and, above, a hole in the roof for a chimney. Next to the fire, an older woman attended to a saucepan filled with milk and wilted green leaves. Nearby was a solid wood table surrounded by tree stumps for seats. On the table, next to a pool of dried candle wax, there was an open prayer book. Bedclothes were tossed carelessly around the earthen floor.
‘Can I help you?’ a male voice said, from behind him. The woman looked up at him, startled. Pyke turned around to face who he presumed was Andrew Magennis and saw at once that the old man had noticed his pistol. ‘Aye,’ he said, slowly, his eyes not leaving Pyke’s. ‘Will you leave us alone for a moment, Martha?’
He was a wiry man of about sixty, but his apparently slight build and taut frame belied his age. Aside from his paintbrush moustache, which was flecked with grey, the rest of his hair was still dark. His piercing, almost translucent eyes gave no intimation of what he was thinking.
Once Martha had left them, he said, ‘I don’t take kindly to strangers bringin’ weapons into my family’s home.’
Pyke allowed the man’s hostility to subside before he said, ‘Is Davy here?’
Magennis did not seem surprised by Pyke’s mention of his son’s name. ‘No.’
‘Mind if I look around?’
‘I mind, sure I do, but I don’t reckon I can stop you.’
Pyke conducted a very brief search of the small cottage but found no one.
‘Has he been here recently?’ They were standing on opposite sides of the wooden table.
‘No.’
‘How well do you know John Arnold?’ Pyke asked, trying to throw the older man off balance with his questions.
‘What’s he got to do with anything?’
Pyke realised that Magennis had probably not heard the news.
‘Would you say that the two of you are friends?’
‘Not friends,’ Magennis said, frowning. ‘Him, the Grand Masters, they like givin’ orders but none of ’em know what it’s like, actually havin’ to live alongside the papists.’
‘When was the last time you saw Davy?’
‘Davy? A year back, maybe more.’ Magennis shrugged.
‘Where was that?’
That drew a determined sigh. ‘Mind telling me why you’re interested in Davy?’
‘A year back, you say?’ Pyke said, ignoring the question.
‘This was just after he’d been thrown out of the police? For beating a Catholic man to within an inch of his life during a riot in Monaghan?’
Magennis did not seem to be impressed by his knowledge. ‘What do you need from me? You have all the answers.’
‘So let me tell you what else I know,’ Pyke said. ‘I know Davy wasn’t prosecuted for that particular crime. I know he got that job in the first place because Arnold arranged it. I know that a man called Fitzroy Tilling came to this house in person, as a favour to Arnold, to sign Davy up. Do you want me to continue? I know your other son Stephen fell in love with a Catholic girl, ran away to London and had a child. I also know that Stephen, Clare and the baby were murdered in their lodging room in London. The baby was strangled and discarded in a piss-filled metal pail. I know Davy was seen in London around the same time. I don’t know but I can only guess that Davy hated Stephen for running off with a Catholic and siring a half-Catholic child. All of you did, no doubt. Except Davy took your pronouncements of hate literally, didn’t he? I can imagine Davy sitting here in this room listening to you telling stories of Catholic rapists and whores. I can make other deductions, too, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you what those might be.’
This time Pyke kept his anger in check, guessing it would have no effect on the older man’s attitude. Pyke wanted answers but he also needed proof of Davy Magennis’s involvement. If Pyke could nail