6_2

The second fact that Doctor Farrell had discovered was that both victims had died within an hour or so of each other, and he guessed that Sarah Tyler had died first.
As he cleaned his hands and chest, his shirt, ruined and flung into the corner, Farrell regarded the two corpses.
“Who ever did this is very strong and very dangerous. The sheer force of the blows indicates a great anger or ferocity, call it what you will.”
Bailey nodded wearily.
“I’m afraid this man will not stop now” he said.
Farrell shook his head.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not an expert in the sicknesses of the mind, but I cannot imagine that having killed these three people, that suddenly this man will cease.”
“You’re sure it’s a man then?”
“What?” Farrell almost laughed. “Do you think a woman is capable of this kind of thing?”
Bailey nodded.
“Doctor. I know women are capable of this kind of thing.”
Farrell looked sceptical, but remembering what Bailey had told him of his former occupation he merely shrugged. “I suppose so then, if she were strong enough to inflict the wounds then yes… I suppose a woman could have killed them.”

For the rest of that day Bailey had gone over all the islanders he knew. Most of the fishing men he could rule out since they were always together on their boats but since all three attacks had apparently taken place at night, then it was still possible for these men to have committed the crimes.
He was still going through the islanders in his head the next morning when de Hogue came to fetch him with the news that a ship had weighed anchor out in the channel and a boat was approaching.
“With any luck it’s from London” he said.
“I think so” de Hogue replied. “It’s about time they sent some one to help us.”
They pulled on warm clothing and walked down to the harbour.
It was the first day of December.
Climbing from the boat, Norris caught sight of de Hogue and Bailey approaching and sauntered over to meet them. He’d already read de Hogue’s original report, so he knew who Bailey was, and he shook his hand with a generous air.
“I’m glad to meet you Mister Bailey” he smiled. “I hope we can help you with your little problem.”
Bailey thanked him, but de Hogue was already looking at the tall figure of Stokes who had climbed up onto the harbour where he was ignoring the sea men as they lifted his baggage from the boat.
“Who is that?” he asked Norris.
Norris scowled.
“I’ll be damned if I know.” He all but whispered. “He were waiting for me by the Nimble last night, and I haven’t had a straight word out of him all night. His name’s Dunston Stokes.”
“Stokes?” de Hogue replied. “I’m sure I’ve heard of him before.”
He patted Norris on the shoulder and approached the tall well dressed man.
“My Name is de Hogue” he said formally holding out his hand.
Stokes turned to regard him for a long drawn out moment, then just as it was becoming rude, he took de Hogue’s hand briefly and shook it once.
“Yes. I’m Christopher Dunston Stokes.” He said. “Sir Joseph told me about your ‘experiences’ here and I thought I might tag along and offer my assistance.”
“Really?” de Hogue lifted his head higher to regard Stokes with candid appraisal. “And what assistance can you offer?”
Stokes scratched his chin.
“I hunt” he answered simply.
“Animals?”
“Anything.”
De Hogue suddenly remembered where he had heard of Stokes before and nodded.
“We’ll be glad to have you with us Mister Stokes” he said.
Stokes smiled faintly.“Jolly good. Now where can I bunk down?”