These incidents did nothing to improve the dispatcher’s mood, and when at last the malodorous coffin was loaded into the van, the dispatcher took a certain delight in warning Burgess, in tones of great solicitousness, to look after his health, since his fellow passenger had fallen victim to King Cholera.
To this, Burgess made no response at all, except to look nervous and out of sorts— which had been his appearance prior to the admonition. Feeling vaguely dissatisfied, the dispatcher barked a final order to his nephew to get on with the job and lock up the van. Then he returned to his office.
With embarrassment, the dispatcher later testified that he had no recollection of any red-bearded gentleman in the station that day at all.
Chapter 41
A Final Inconvenience
In fact, Pierce had been among the crowd that witnessed the dreadful episode of the opened coffin. He saw that the episode proceeded precisely as he had intended, and that Agar, in his hideous make-up, had escaped detection.
When the crowd dissipated, Pierce moved forward to the van, with Barlow at his side. Barlow was carrying some rather odd luggage on a porter’s trolley, and Pierce had a moment of disquiet when he saw the dispatcher himself take up the job of supervising the loading of the van. For if anyone considered it, Pierces behavior was distinctly odd.
To all appearances, he was a prosperous gentleman. But his luggage was unusual, to say the least: five identical satchels of leather. These satchels were hardly the sort of items considered agreeable by gentlemen. The leather was coarse and the stitching at the seams was crude and obvious. If the satchels were unquestionably sturdy, they were also unmistakably ugly.
Yet none was very large, and Pierce could easily have stowed them in the overhead luggage racks of his carriage compartment, instead of the luggage van. The van was ordinarily considered a nuisance, since it meant delays at both the start and the conclusion of the journey.
Finally, Pierces manservant— he did not employ a railway porter— loaded the bags onto the luggage van separately. Although the servant was a burly character of evident strength, he was clearly straining under the weight of each satchel.
In short, a thoughtful man might wonder why a gentleman of quality traveled with five small, ugly, extremely heavy, and identical bags. Pierce watched the dispatcher’s face while the bags were loaded, one after another. The dispatcher, somewhat pale, never noticed the bags at all, and indeed did not emerge from his distracted state until another gentleman arrived with a parrot, and an argument ensued.
Pierce drifted away, but did not board the train. Instead, he remained near the far end of the platform, apparently curious about the recovery of the woman who had fainted. In fact, he was lingering in the hope of seeing the padlock that he would soon be attempting to pick. When the dispatcher left, with a final sharp rebuke to his nephew, the young woman made her way toward the coaches. Pierce fell into step beside her.
“Are you fully recovered, Miss?” he asked.
“I trust so,” she said.
They merged with the boarding crowd at the coaches. Pierce said, “Perhaps you will join me in my compartment for the duration of the journey?”
“You are kind,” the girl said, with a slight nod.
“Get rid of him,” Pierce whispered to her. “I don’t care how, just do it.”
Miriam had a puzzled look for only a moment, and then a hearty voice boomed out, “Edward! Edward, my dear fellow!” A man was pushing toward them through the crowd.
Pierce waved a delighted greeting. “Henry,” he called. “Henry Fowler, what an extraordinary surprise.
Fowler came over and shook Pierce’s hand. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said. “Are you on this train? Yes? Why, so am I, the fact of the matter— ah…” His voice trailed off as he noticed the girl at Pierce’s side. He displayed some discomfiture, for in terms of Henry Fowler’s social world all the signals were mixed. Here was Pierce, dressed handsomely and showing his usual polish, standing with a girl who was, God knew, pretty enough, but by her dress and manner a very common sort.