The Letter

Chapter 1

Thaddeus Gilmore had been a well-respected detective during his 21years with the Chester Metropolitan Police Force. A smart, boyish-looking man, he had never lost his youthful air of confidence that normally faded with age.

Most people admired his tireless vigour and were drawn to him in captivated fascination, hoping to learn the secret of his everlasting youthfulness, while others were bitterly resentful of his popularity and sought to find ways to disrupt the steady upward flow that his life seemed to cruise along with. Of average height and build, his dark, slicked hair was always parted perfectly on the right, his clothes always fashionably coordinated, but his voice commanded most attention – despite his youthful countenance it had a surprisingly deep, resonant tone that was neither too hurried nor too slow - with an attractive cadence that turned heads whenever he spoke. Thaddeus Gilmore was a natural leader.

Thaddeus was renowned over the years for his uncanny ability to seek out the real, hardened criminals, earning him the admiration and interest of his superiors. Such recognition resulted in Thaddeus rising through the ranks almost effortlessly and he was earmarked for a most prestigious career by his Superintendent, Mr. Felton Bosworth - a formidable man with a sharp mind and a keen eye. He saw in Thaddeus a promising candidate who could quite possibly take over from himself in years to come.

Thaddeus's understanding of man stemmed from his ability to sense an extra dimension in the behaviour of liars. In simple terms he understood that on the surface people could be pleasant or unpleasant, rather like cakes that looked the same but were made from differing recipes - some, like his wife were bitter, while others, like his mistress, were perfectly sweet.

On a more complex level, he was also aware that some people had behaviour patterns that required a more intuitive intellect - something that most policemen in his force failed to possess. He had a most discerning pallet when it came to unravelling the motives behind people’s actions, which enabled him to detect when their recipe wasn't quite right, and it was this taste for crime that earned him admiration - as well as scorn among his peers.

At the age of 40 however, fate altered the course of Thaddeus' charmed life and his enemies had their prayers answered. After slipping carelessly on a step outside his constabulary; he broke his ankle, leaving him with a pronounced, troublesome limp that required the support of a walking stick and thus, severely compromised his ability to continue working in the Force.

He took the inevitable early retirement with good grace and satisfied himself with spending more time with the two loves of his life - Hector, his beloved Great Dane and Sarah Webb, his mistress. Mr. Bosworth however viewed matters differently and within weeks of Thaddeus settling down to his leisurely retirement, an advisory role within the borough’s criminal department was quickly created with a very generous wage enticement. Thaddeus was asked to consider the offer very carefully and much to Mr. Bosworth's relief accepted it.

It wasn’t a sympathetic decision by Mr. Bosworth to soften the blow of what effectively, would have been the end of Thaddeus’ career, it was a calculated move to preserve some semblance of competence within the Chester branch – quite simply, under the supervision of the current Police Chief – Cyril LaRedare, Chester’s police force would have been a much maligned mockery.

From the day Thaddeus began working alongside LaRedare, the capabilities of the two police chiefs became more obvious, much to LaRedare’s rankling. Thaddeus was always ahead of the game, his understanding of man’s inherent mix of good and bad was as finely-tuned as a metronome, never wavering in its accuracy. LaRedare on the other hand possessed no sharpness of mind or criminal ideology to assist him in the capture of anyone other than the most blundering of criminals, in short he relied solely on providence.

In contrast, Thaddeus' home life was unfortunately not as satisfying as his career. He had married his first cousin, a miserable woman named Martha. He knew when he married her that it wasn’t a match made in heaven but after losing both his parents at an early age, Thaddeus had been raised since the age of eight by his mother’s only surviving relative – an elderly widower by the name of Seth Burridge. Martha was Seth's only daughter and though she was older by six years, Thaddeus promised his dying uncle that he would ensure Martha was taken of.

There was no line of suitors waiting for Martha’s hand in marriage – and everyone knew there never would be - but Thaddeus married her as grateful payment for the happy years he had lived under his uncle’s roof. A small fortune had been bequeathed to them by Seth - though out of honour, Thaddeus would have married Martha even if she was penniless.

Martha's outlook on life was dour to say the least, she hadn’t enjoyed the happiest of childhoods; an only child who was spoilt by her parents, she was used to getting anything she wanted. When her mother died suddenly while Martha was just eight, Martha felt that life had dealt her an unfair hand – she had no brothers or sisters to help with the burden of sorrow and nothing her elderly father did could bring any pleasure back into the young girl’s life – and even now, Thaddeus couldn't alter her sour disposition.

Her usual expression could best be described as the facial contortion one would expect to see on someone eating a lemon and Thaddeus learned over time that though she often 'looked' disagreeable, she was actually happier when she was like this than when she was forced to smile – which only made her feel vulnerable. Thaddeus didn't resent Martha, or her acerbic nature, he tolerated her very well in fact, for his real pleasure came in the form of his mistress, Sarah Webb, a sweet, comely lady who also looked forward to their clandestine trysts to escape an unhappy marriage.

Sarah and Thaddeus had often discussed the prospect of leaving their married partners to begin a new life together - it was an equally tempting proposition for both of them, but over time, Thaddeus always thought better of this course of action. He knew that happiness was not something you could enjoy exclusively without paying a high price in another area of your life, he accepted his miserable marriage to Martha as payment for Sarah, just as breaking his ankle was in some way payment for the success he'd enjoyed in his career, but taking Sarah as his wife always gave rise to feelings of foreboding.

Apart from the promise he had made to his uncle Seth, he wasn't sure where the 'payment' for this happiness would come from and decided to adopt a more cautious compromise - they would both tolerate their miserable marriages as long as they could continue with their secret relationship - and this is what they did very happily for many years.

As he leaned back in his chair enjoying a late breakfast of fresh Columbian coffee and slices of toast generously spread with his favourite Kieller's marmalade, Thaddeus decided that his seat at the large wooden table in the kitchen was by far the best seat in the house – much to Martha's displeasure.

From the front window of his sizeable Georgian terrace, he was able to survey quite openly the entertainment of everyday life in the busy Chester town. Horses and carriages noisily trotted passed his window on the cobbled streets, the loud voices of the drivers shouting orders to their horses echoing harmoniously in the air as they sped by. Silhouettes of hats and bonnets bobbed along, eclipsing the faces of their owners peering out of the windows.

Vendors displayed their fruit and vegetables on wooden carts, their contents spilled over the streets in a flourish of colour against the stark background of the winter’s frost. Thaddeus sat utterly captivated by the hectic scene laid out before him and as he swallowed the last of his coffee in one gulp, he smiled at the gratified faces of the lucky folk eating the savoury delights from the hot pie stall, the steam softly billowing from the thick crusts of pastry as they were devoured eagerly in the cold wind.

Through the French doors behind him, he was able to view the contrasting beauty of nature in his garden – the simple wintery scene of his lawn appeared in his mind as a more complex vision; like flies caught in a spider's web, stalks of grass punctured the transparent veil of snow, the bare branches of the trees, poised like spiders' legs, ready to devour their prey paralysed beneath them. Thaddeus viewed a lot of things more profoundly than everyone else which enabled him to see a more detailed picture. The contrasting visions and incidents of life never ceased to amaze Thaddeus and he knew that if you scrutinized even the most simplest of matters, the most startling images became very lucid indeed.

Thaddeus set his empty plate and cup on the table and continued to survey the scenes outside in a pensive mood, while his cook, Esther busied herself with her orders for lunch from the 'miserable Martha'. With his coffee pot finally emptied he thought of taking a walk to the park with Hector, just an hour or so to keep his ankle exercised which would keep his Dr happy when he next paid him a visit. Yes, a good walk would rejuvenate him before heading off to the station.

Things had been quiet over the Christmas period and the cold January weather seemed to have sent many criminals into hibernation. He had been asked to investigate some minor felonies including a tailor who had gone missing – at the same time as a whole year's takings.

He was also asked to review the case of a bank teller who was due to be charged with siphoning money from various customers' accounts, Thaddeus wanted to check everyone’s statements before submitting his final report. It was this constant consultation with Thaddeus that irked his 'junior' inspector – Cyril LaRedare and which he felt damaged his reputation as a senior inspector, but after complaining to Bosworth himself – and subsequently receiving a mighty embarrassing dressing down - LaRedare vowed never again to raise a complaint about Thaddeus, indeed, Mr. Bosworth had made it very clear to LaRedare that his job would be in question if he ever went behind Thaddeus’ back again.

Chapter 2

Elizabeth's watery smile was like a remnant of silk loosely draped over her inner turmoil as Rupert Cox opened his porticoed door to her. She'd asked to see him urgently that evening while his wife Anne was attending her weekly sewing circle. A successful middle-aged man with a thriving coach-making business – Cox’s Carriages - Rupert was used to a very grand lifestyle; a large house with servants in Chester's most affluent area and clothes made from London's exclusive tailors, he was in short, used to having what he wanted - including women.

Elizabeth's arrival on his doorstep was a bad sign - even Rupert with his blithe manner could sense this was not a social visit. He quickly beckoned her into the hallway - checking the streets when she was safely hidden from view to ensure she hadn't been seen - thankful that the gas lights outside were only just starting to be lit. Once inside the privacy of his home Elizabeth broke down, her eyes which hadn't yet dried from the previous bout of sobbing were once again overflowing. Rupert had seen similar emotional outbursts in his lady friends before and his heart sank as he led her into his lounge.

Seating her in an armchair by the fire Rupert ordered his hovering servants to fetch some water and a decanter of brandy. Elizabeth dried her eyes on her handkerchief, sighing and sniveling until she finally managed to compose herself. She spat out the words before her emotions had a chance to stifle her throat once more;

I'm pregnant, and unless you do something about it I'll have to tell Bernard that you raped me – I’m supposed to be marrying him in three months!

Rupert stared at her in horror. Elizabeth was currently engaged to Bernard Somerset, a high ranking officer in the army with enough contacts to ensure Rupert paid very dearly for his misdemeanour with his fiancée. His mind whirled as two servant girls entered the lounge, one of them placed a water jug and glass by Emily's side while the other placed a decanter of brandy and a matching cut glass tumbler on a console table next to Rupert’s armchair. He quickly shooed them away while his mind raced to find a speedy, painless, solution.

Having a dalliance with the young girl seated before him had been considerable entertainment for Rupert, his ability to charm the most demure of women had always been a particularly enjoyable pastime of his – the odd pregnancy had always been dealt with by an old discreet Dr. now however, the thought of her fiancé coming after him complicated matters totally and the possible consequences of his actions made his entrails melt.

Elizabeth continued to sob into her handkerchief while perched on the edge of her chair, the folds of her billowing dress gathered abundantly around her feet. Her blonde ringlets framing her face perfectly, she was a very beautiful woman. Rupert turned away from her, even in her distress he found her very attractive. He paced up and down in front of the fireplace several times before pouring himself a brandy from the decanter, and rubbing his forehead he desperately tried to think of a quick way out. Elizabeth was clearly in an unstable state and the thought of her blurting something out to Bernard Somerset was too terrible to contemplate.

He tipped his head back, downing the large measure of brandy in one gulp and placing the empty glass on the mantelpiece, he knelt down in front of Elizabeth, he took one of her hands in his and promised her faithfully that he would sort everything out and there would be no need for her to involve her fiancé. He looked up at her face, the anguish that had been clearly etched all over it when she first arrived seemed to evaporate at once and her breathing became more steady, she gave a hint of a smile as a sign of appreciation and spoke in more measured tones;

Bernard already senses something's wrong she sipped water from the glass that Rupert offered her and dabbed at her eyes with her wet handkerchief,

I need to have this sorted out as soon as possible, there’s no one else I can turn to. she sniffed.

With his wife Anne out for the evening Rupert had hoped to meet another of his lady friends at an inn on the other side of town, but looking at the clock above the fireplace he knew he would have to cancel the tryst and concentrate instead on making sure Elizabeth’s pregnancy was dealt with as soon as possible.

I'd better go now, I said I was taking some sewing to Mrs. Wallis, I'm expected back home already sniveled Elizabeth.

Rupert took the glass from her and helped her out of the chair. He walked her to the hallway and as they neared the front door, he caught her by her elbow and whispered in her ear, he was wary of his servants eavesdropping nearby;

Say nothing to anyone about this, I know someone who can help - come to me at my office tomorrow lunchtime, I'll give you the details then, I’ll have all the arrangements made by tomorrow morning

He released her elbow and opened the door for her, Elizabeth gave him the briefest of nods and holding her handkerchief over her mouth, she walked into the evening air disappearing into the darkened night, her voluminous blue satin dress glowed briefly as she hurried past the gas lamp, while Rupert watched her figure erase into the night.

He closed the door and strode decisively into the large, finely-furnished lounge, the chair where Elizabeth had sat earlier was turned awkwardly away from the fire where she had left it, its cushions in disarray, just as she had left his life moments before. He repositioned the chair and adjusted the embroidered cushions absent-mindedly. Taking his empty glass from the mantelpiece he poured himself another large brandy and sat in his armchair staring into the roaring fire until his wife returned.

After a sleepless night Rupert rose early the following morning and set off with his driver and carriage to see the old doctor. It wasn't the first time Rupert had required the specialised service of the old man, his fondness for the young maidens had got him into trouble too many times to recall but he hadn’t had to worry about high-ranking fiancé’s before, hopefully a substantial payment and a few bottles of whiskey would put right the wrongdoing of his dalliance very quickly. He swore he would be more discriminate in future with the ladies he ‘entertained,’ he had no desire to risk having to deal with anyone like Bernard Somerset again.

The carriage came to a halt at the entrance of a narrow pathway, though it was early in the day and the winter’s sun dazzled the driver’s eyes, the sunlight struggled to light the alleyway as the eaves of the houses overhung each other, almost touching the houses on the other side. Rupert gave his driver instructions to wait while he walked furtively to a doorway just visible half-way up the dirt track, its porch casting more shadow over the door. He knocked heavily and urgently with the large tarnished knocker and listened with his ear to the door for any signs of life. He had been to the old Dr.’s surgery a number of times over the years for the same service. He prayed he was still available.

The Dr. was sleeping off a hangover. He’d spent the previous evening drinking heavily at ‘The Merry Widow’ tavern just a few yards further up the alley. He’d stayed there for most of the evening until he was kicked out and pushed down the alleyway in the direction of his home to stagger to his front door. Living just a few doors away from the tavern had certainly had its benefits over the years.

He often left his front door unlocked at night to save him from fumbling for keys in his inebriated state, his stupefied brain could never remember which key opened the door and it was easier just to fall through the door and slump in his armchair. He’d been asleep in his chair all night and didn’t wake until he heard the loud knocks on his front door.

The deafening noise echoing through his hallway caused his leg to jerk and his eyes to bulge open, but the urgency of the knocks were always a good sign of business to come and easing himself to his feet, he wiped his drooling mouth, straightened his creased waistcoat and smoothed back his long, lank hair. As he began shuffling in the dim light his foot sent an empty bottle of whiskey hurling to the other end of the room, the crash as it hit the wall made his head thump and swaying unsteadily, he gingerly made his way to his sideboard and took out a box of matches from the top drawer. He decided it would be a lot easier if he could see where he was going. The knocks on his front door were becoming louder and more insistent and with trembling hands he lit a candle, and hobbled down the hallway to see who had disturbed his