Death in the Peerless Pool

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Book: Death in the Peerless Pool Read Online Free PDF
Author: Deryn Lake
did.’
    Sir Gabriel imbibed his port, staring thoughtfully into the flames. Eventually he asked a question to which John nodded.
    â€˜Yes, that’s it. I did not notice at the time but later on that evening it suddenly occurred to me.’
    â€˜Did you tell Mr Fielding?’
    â€˜No, I couldn’t. There were too many people present. However, I shall send Nicholas round with a note early tomorrow morning.’
    â€˜A good plan. Forewarned is forearmed.’
    Sir Gabriel’s longcase clock chimed its tuneful melody, ‘The British Granadears’ 1 then struck one. ‘I must go to bed,’ said John, standing up. ‘I have arranged to meet Samuel early so that we can get to St Luke’s at breakfast time. I hope to be the first to break the news of the woman’s death.’
    â€˜And thus have the element of surprise on your side?’
    â€˜Precisely.’
    But as John mounted the stairs he wondered whether this would be the case, or whether someone more closely connected with the Peerless Pool had already taken the news of the wardress’s death to the asylum for the insane.

Chapter Four
    It was not until he approached St Luke’s Hospital for Poor Lunatics on foot, walking up the length of Windmill Hill from Upper Moor Fields, that John Rawlings realised just how close to the Fish Pond the building actually was. It had once been used by John Wesley as a Meeting House, but the lease had been obtained by a consortium of six worthy citizens of London intent upon establishing a new dwelling to assist and supplement the ancient and overcrowded asylum known as Bethlehem Hospital, commonly referred to by all strata of society as Bedlam.
    No provision being made by the state for the proper care and treatment of mentally ill persons belonging to the impoverished classes, Bedlam, the one refuge offered to them, was packed to suffocation point, and desperate patients were constantly turned away. Accordingly, much to the relief of the staff of Bethlehem Hospital, in the summer of 1751 the doors of St Luke’s were opened, the asylum to be administered by Dr Thomas Crow, one of the six original founders. And it was to see this man that John, accompanied by an extremely eager Samuel, was presently making his way.
    Turning through the gates, the Apothecary took stock of the lie of the land. Though the building had been extended beyond the boundaries of the original Meeting House, St Luke’s was for all that small, an austere, joyless place, admirably suited to housing those whose madness brought about frenzies. But despite its harsh appearance, the hospital’s surroundings were pleasant; fields to one aide, trees to the other. Apart from a few straggling cottages, the only other building in sight was the distantly glimpsed Lord Mayor’s Dog House, owned by the City Hunt.
    Just beyond St Luke’s, the path known as Windmill Hill forked right, leading to the well of St Agnes le Clare, situated at the junction with Old Street. If one bore left at the well, the site of the Peerless Pool lay just a matter of yards away. In the other direction from the hospital gates was Tindal’s Burying Ground, where the great Daniel Defoe was buried. Any number of back alleys led from there directly to the Fish Pond.
    â€˜Well?’ said Samuel.
    â€˜I was just thinking that it wouldn’t have been difficult to transport the victim from here to the Peerless Pool. That is if the beating took place near the hospital.’
    â€˜Would the woman have been conscious, do you think?’
    â€˜Barely. However, there is always the possibility that she walked to the Pond unharmed and was viciously attacked once she got there.’
    Samuel looked portentous. ‘It was the work of a lunatic, John. I feel certain of it.’
    His friend regarded him gravely. ‘Everyone is a lunatic when they kill. Even if you did so in self-defence, the heart would pound, the blood rush, and
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