2_3

In the front room of the fisherman’s cottage, the sailor was lying on an old bed, wrapped in blankets. His coat was hanging from a peg, and seeing it sent a jag or recognition through de Hogue. It was a sea stained uniform coat of a first lieutenant in the Royal Navy, and stepping closer to examine the pale sweating face, de Hogue felt a faint recognition. He did not know this man, but he had seen him before.
“What’s your name?” he asked the muttering man.
“My name?” came the hoarse whispered reply? “My name is cursed… “
Bailey stepped closer but shook his head; he had never seen the man before.
“He said his name was McKee.” The Fisherman’s wife offered as she returned with a damp cloth.
Thanking her, de Hogue took the cloth and gently wiped down the man’s brow.
“McKee?”
McKee stared back at him, recognising his own name. He shivered and tears rolled from his eyes.
“They’re all dead!” he whispered. “All dead. I’m the only one left! Maybe I’m dead as well!”
“Who is all dead?” de Hogue asked in a low inquiring voice. “Your crew?”
“Aye, the crew! They are all dead, taken by the dragon!”
“The dragon?” de Hogue searched the fevered man’s eyes, but McKee stared into his own delirium, and ignored him.
“It was in the storm. It took the ship. It killed them all, but I escaped. I jumped over the side and found a spar and held on. The dragon never saw me!”
Bailey turned to Fred Hampton, who was listening from the door.
“Where did you find him?”
Hampton cleared his throat. “Out in the open sea, just south of the Dogger Bank. We picked him up last night.”
Bailey turned back to de Hogue,
“Will he be alright? Doctor Farrell should be here at some time during the morning…”
“He should be able to hold out that long I think” de Hogue replied standing up.
They considered the twitching man, muttering to himself on the bed.”
“Tommy Arkins said it was the devil hisself!” McKee suddenly said, his eyes clear and lucid for a second, startling all three of them.
Bailey swore softly and ushered them all from the room. Closing the door, he turned to Hampton and his wife who had stood patiently waiting outside the room with worried eyes.
“Not a word of this to any one until Doctor Farrell has seen him, do you hear me?”
“Aye.” Hampton nodded.
“I mean it!” Bailey wagged a finger at them. “I don’t want to hear any foolish rumours going around about the Devil whilst Mary Coleman is still lying in the chapel.”
Mrs Hampton pinched her mouth tight in obvious disapproval of his tone, but she could not meet his eyes. He stared at them for a further moment then nodded and made his way out side.
“We’ll bring the Doctor as soon as he lands” de Hogue told them, them followed Bailey out into the light. He squinted against the cold autumn morning sun and blew on his hands. It was cold, and their breath clouded about them as they spoke.
“This is all we bloody well needed!” Bailey kicked the ground in agitation. “If word gets out that we have a mad man ranting about the devil, then this whole island, every man jack of them, will refuse to have anything to do with it!.
“Perhaps we should ask the vicar to come down here and sit with this chap?” de Hogue wondered. He glanced about, checking they were not being over heard.
“He’s probably still with Annie Mason. Gawd, you should have seen her, she was even worse than him!” he jerked his thumb back at the fisherman’s cottage. “What the hell am I going to do about this?”
“I’m going to go back and finish writing my dispatch, and send it back with the Doctor’s boat. Chatham will want to know about McKee’s ship, and they’ll probably send some one to fetch him back.”
“You might want to ask for some help whilst you’re at it!”
De Hogue looked down at Bailey’s red face.
“What sort of help?”
“Some one who knows about murder investigations… or dragons!” Bailey laughed with a derisive snort.
De Hogue smiled mirthlessly.
“You’re probably right. I have no idea how to catch a murderer, but do you really think they’ll send some one just to find the killer of this poor girl?”
Bailey spat on the road as they walked back through the village.
“Naw, probably not. But there’s no harm in askin’ is there?”
Outside the Old George they met Thatcher and a group of others, most of whom were fishermen.
Jack Kirby, a small lean man with a reputation as being a hot head stepped forward and greeted them with a sneer.
“What’s going on then?” he demanded.
“I don’t have time for idle chatter” Bailey replied as he walked past. “I’m not an old woman with nought better to do.”
“What’s that?” Kirby responded, his head cocked suddenly to one side.
Bailey ignored him and continued walking, and de Hogue saw Thatcher stepping over to grab Kirby’s collar. The little man batted Thatcher’s arm aside and made some angry retort, but Thatcher simply shook his head and the group went back to their own attentions. Bailey saw de Hogue looking back and sneered.
“Their all in it together. I just know it! The whole damned island is full of gold runners.”They had reached the harbour, and here, making its way past the many fishing boats, was a small ships barge, carrying Doctor Farrell and the mail.