Depths of Deceit Read Free Page A

of mischievous fires, the yellowing bones and fragments of offal discarded there by some rogue butcher. Rank grass grew long between the uneven flags.
    ‘And this is Miller’s Court, Inspector,’ said PC Gully as they emerged from the alley into a mean courtyard flanked on two sides by derelict slum dwellings. Roofless, and with the window sashes long plundered for kindling wood, the airless cottages looked like the skeletons of human dwellings.
    ‘I wonder who Miller was, sir?’ asked Sergeant Knollys. It was the first time that he had spoken since he and Box had joined PC Gully on their tour of the area, and the constable jumped in surprise. For a sinister, scar-faced giant of a man, he thought, Mr Box’s sergeant spoke very well. He could almost have been mistaken for a gentleman.
    ‘Miller? I expect he was another of those slum landlords who threw up these courts in the forties,’ Box replied. ‘Can you imagine having to live here? Miller’s Court…. Wasn’t this one of the cholera courts, Constable?’
    ‘It was, sir, back in the early sixties. There were still people living here when I was a boy – desperate folk, they were. But it’ll all be gone and forgotten by ’97.’
    Facing the ruined cottages the back wall of Hatchard’s FurnitureRepository rose towards the sky. A rear entrance was closed by stout doors containing three mortise locks. The remaining wall of the enclosed court was topped by a line of broken glass cemented into the brickwork. Beyond this wall lay the archaeological site in Priory Gate Street.
    Arnold Box glanced up at the hot sky above them. Not a cloud was to be seen, but suddenly there came a rumble of thunder. A single dark cloud appeared from over the rim of Hatchard’s roof, and Box felt a few drops of rain fall on to his upturned face.
    ‘I don’t like the feel of this place at all, Sergeant,’ said Box, turning towards Knollys. ‘Locked, barred and bolted – it’s what my old pa calls a bag of mystery. Constable, can you show us the fourth side of the square?’
    ‘You’ll have to come through one of these ruined cottages, sir,’ said Gully. ‘Mind how you go! The floors are firm enough, but there’s a lot of rubbish lying about.’
    PC Gully selected a dwelling on the left side of the court, and led Box and Knollys through the doorless entrance. Tramps had lit fires in the building, and what remained of the staircase had been burned into a mound of fine ash. They emerged through a gap in the rear wall into a thin strip of beaten clay bounded by a sturdy wooden fence.
    ‘This is your fourth side of the square, Inspector Box,’ said PC Gully. ‘Beyond this fence lies Priory Gardens, the little park laid out in ’ninety. Very soon now, Miller’s Court will be thrown down, and the gardens extended across the site.’
    ‘What about Hatchard’s Furniture Repository?’
    ‘Well, sir, that’ll stay where it is. So will all the shops and little factories along Catherine Lane. It was just that warren of slum houses called the Rat Run that was to be demolished, so I’ve been told.’
    ‘Well, thank you, Constable,’ said Box. ‘This little tour of yours has given me a lot to think about. Incidentally, why is it called Catherine Lane? Who was this Catherine?’
    ‘Centuries ago, sir, there used to be a church facing on to the lane, and it was called St Catherine’s. And it was just near the steps leading up to Hatchard’s that the famous treasure was found in 1887. The Clerkenwell Treasure.’
    ‘The Clerkenwell Treasure? I seem to remember reading something about that in the paper, Constable. So it was discovered in Catherine Lane?’
    ‘Yes, sir. It was in a specially made cavity beneath the porch of the old church, and it had been lost for centuries, so they said. And the funny thing is, sir, that it was found by this same Professor Ainsworth who discovered the Mithraeum last year – just a couple of streets away from here.’

2

At King James’s