Chapter 2

”I have to ask” Bailey began, “why did you come with us today?”
He was sitting with Morgan de Hogue in the small cottage where Thomas Bailey had been billeted by the Chatham magistrate’s.
Morgan shrugged and prodded the fire.
“I mean, you more or less gave the whole game away” Bailey continued. “Even the vicar thought it was odd”.
Placing the poker back in its stand and settling back into the arm chair de Hogue nodded.
“Yeah. I know. But the truth is, I think I’m done here any way”.
“Ah… Really?” Bailey’s eyes took on a predatory gleam and his entire demeanour seemed to change, becoming lean and hungry.
Regarding the fire, de Hogue spoke in a tired voice.
“Aye, Thatcher is the ring leader alright. Nothing happens here without his knowing or say so.”
Bailey nodded with a smirk on his face.
“I knew it!” he laughed. “I’ll have the bugger yet!”
“Do you think so?” de Hogue shifted his gaze to the smaller mans flushed face.
“Aye, why not!?” Bailey replied. His eyes lost their lustre at the look on de Hogue’s face.
“Well, we need proof, and it don’t look like Thatcher ever goes out on the sea himself. He sends others to do his bidding.”
“What others?”
“There are a couple from here on the island that I know of. Hunter and his lads, Alec Crown and the old fella they call Gran Pym. I think there are a couple of others but I haven’t gotten close enough to recognize them yet.
Bailey jotted the names down in his note pad and remarked; “Gran Pym has a young nephew called Nathaniel, I’ve known he was up to summat but I never had anything on him. I’ll wager he’s in on this as well.”
Sighing heavily, de Hogue shrugged.
“I’ll tell you what it is” he said softly. Bailey looked up at him, noting the change of tone. “The way that sheep was gutted…”
“What about it?”
“It troubles me.”
Bailey sat back in his chair and cast his mind back to the girl. His mind’s eyes saw again the great wound and he contemplated it in his memory. The ribs had been splintered, but in some places they had shown signs of being gnawed at. At first he put this down to sea birds or rodents, but the thought of the dead sheep cast a new light over it.
“You don’t think…” he began. Morgan de Hogue looked at him with silent dark eyes. Bailey swallowed nervously, he reached for his cup of tepid ale; “You don’t think she was killed by an animal do you?”
“I don’t know what to think.” De Hogue replied. “What sort of animal could do that to a human being? A wolf? When was the last time a wolf was seen in these parts?”
“What then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think some one could have brought some other animal onto the island?” Bailey asked. “Some other creature from a distant land, like a lion or a tiger?”
“I suppose it’s possible, but why bring it here? This place doesn’t have any natural philosophers or rich eccentrics; it would be pointless smuggling a tiger on to the island.”Neither man spoke for a while, each considering the island in his mind.