Raven moved briskly and on light feet, covering the distance to the drawing room in a trice. He interrupted Quinton climbing down from a low shelf in the press where he had been hiding.

Quinton took fright at the sight of the intrusion and lost his footing. He half slid, half fell to the floor, where he cowered as Raven stood above him.

‘Please do not strike me. I have injured my ankle.’

‘You would have happily seen me hang, you supercilious turd. Sarah too, simply to protect yourself and hide your thievery.’

Simpson entered, wearing a look of concern at the scene confronting him, but there was no need for him to be afraid of Raven’s intentions. What Raven had learned from Sarah was that the devil in him was an ally, and he was its master if he could decide for himself when to unleash it. That way, he controlled it, it did not control him. On this occasion the devil did not even come close to the surface. The sight of Mr Quinton cringing and snivelling was simply too pathetic to summon it.

‘I am deeply sorry. I was in a state of desperation and was rendered insensible by my shame. I did not want Dr Simpson to learn of my predicament, and even less what I had done as a result.’

‘You lied to the police and had them accuse Dr Raven of murder. Direct your apologies to him.’

‘I did not lie. I merely raised my suspicions, as he and Mrs Banks seemed unseemly close.’

‘You lied by omission,’ Simpson reminded him. ‘You knew Archie had taken a bottle of chloroform for himself.’

‘I was confused. I am indeed truly sorry.’

He clasped his hands together and looked up at them in supplication. There were tears in his eyes, though not of contrition, Raven suspected: merely self-pity.

‘I could have you tossed in jail,’ the professor told him.

Raven saw the instant change in Quinton’s expression as the significance of Dr Simpson’s words sunk in, the clockwork in motion behind his eyes. Simpson could have him thrown in jail, but by implication did not intend to.

Quinton ceased cowering and drew himself to his feet. His ankle injury seemed miraculously healed. He kept a wary eye on Raven, who despite his previous reflections couldn’t help but wish Quinton would attack him and thus give him reason to retaliate.

‘As Dr Raven might have explained, we were badly deceived when we came here,’ Quinton said. ‘My so-called friend left us more debts than prospects. And I would remind you that I declined other employment opportunities to come here and take up a post with you, Dr Simpson.’

His wife took her place beside him.

‘Furthermore, we took on the added responsibility of Rochester here,’ she added. ‘As an obligation to yourself and Mrs Simpson.’