your case, inventing a disease that only you have the power to cure. I’m impressed by the effrontery of the scheme, if not by its scientific foundations.’
The murmurs around the room were, he suspected, of consternation at his impudence, and Pyke wondered whether he had overplayed his hand.
‘And what do you know of science, Mr . . . ?’ Hardwick’s face was as black as thunder.
‘Pyke will do.’
‘What I am alluding to, and what a lesser mind such as your own might not have grasped, is that such ideas inevitably have much wider applications, Mr Pyke. At the heart of modern psychiatry and criminology is a belief that we have the power to treat and transform human behaviour. I’m sure if you had seen the fine work being undertaken by Philippe Pinel in France and Samuel Tuke in York in bringing to bear a moral regime on deviant behaviour, then you would not be so dismissive of the role psychiatry can play in bringing order to our world.’ Peel nodded his head and Hardwick smiled.
‘I have no personal experience of those places, but as is the case with all institutions, I’d wager that they are as oppressive in their own right as Newgate itself.’
That drew a thin smile from Hardwick. ‘Except that the condemned man in Newgate prison would tear you apart, given half a chance, while those under Tuke’s supervision would happily go on about their business. In whose company would you prefer to spend some time?’
‘And let’s say you were in physical danger from an invading army or were being bullied by someone stronger than yourself.’ Pyke stared at Hardwick and smiled. ‘Who would you turn to for help? A smiling lunatic or violent outlaw?’
‘Good God, man, criminals of any denomination should not be lauded as heroes. They are but children who lack the necessary self-discipline to control their excessive passion.’
‘Unlike you, Mr Hardwick, I grew up around such people and there is nothing childish or ill-disciplined about most of them. They are just poor, desperate people doing what has to be done in order to survive.’ Pyke decided it was time to move in for the kill. ‘And is that who murdered our newborn baby just delivered from its mother’s womb? A child?’
For the first time Hardwick’s composure seemed to crack. He stammered something about the difference between conventional criminal behaviour and homicidal monomania.
‘But practically speaking, Mr Hardwick, how does your diagnosis assist those of us actually involved in the process of trying to catch whoever murdered these people? Who, or what, are we supposed to be looking for? By the sounds of things, any of us here could be suffering from homicidal monomania, if the symptoms are undetectable under ordinary circumstances. Surely you don’t suspect one of us?’
A laugh rippled around the room. An indignant Hardwick was about to respond but before he had a chance Peel intervened, to bring their discussion to an end. He thanked Hardwick for enlightening them with his theories and, addressing Pyke, said, ‘If you find our friend’s ideas to be less than useful in this particular instance, perhaps you could share with us your own thoughts regarding what you witnessed and how they might assist us with the investigation?’
Pyke made a point of addressing the room from where he was sitting. As he had done to Fox and Vines, he explained what had happened, what he had seen and what it might mean. When he had finished there was a sober hush in the room. Peel glanced nervously at Charles Hume. Hume merely nodded. Peel thanked Pyke for his illuminating thoughts, and said he was sure his discoveries would be of tremendous use to the investigative team.
Charles Hume agreed. Hardwick sat in silence, scowling. Beside him, Pyke heard Fox whisper, ‘You stuck it to the bastards. Well done.’
As the gathering broke up, Peel came across to where he was sitting and asked Pyke whether he might be able to stay behind for a few minutes, so
The murmurs around the room were, he suspected, of consternation at his impudence, and Pyke wondered whether he had overplayed his hand.
‘And what do you know of science, Mr . . . ?’ Hardwick’s face was as black as thunder.
‘Pyke will do.’
‘What I am alluding to, and what a lesser mind such as your own might not have grasped, is that such ideas inevitably have much wider applications, Mr Pyke. At the heart of modern psychiatry and criminology is a belief that we have the power to treat and transform human behaviour. I’m sure if you had seen the fine work being undertaken by Philippe Pinel in France and Samuel Tuke in York in bringing to bear a moral regime on deviant behaviour, then you would not be so dismissive of the role psychiatry can play in bringing order to our world.’ Peel nodded his head and Hardwick smiled.
‘I have no personal experience of those places, but as is the case with all institutions, I’d wager that they are as oppressive in their own right as Newgate itself.’
That drew a thin smile from Hardwick. ‘Except that the condemned man in Newgate prison would tear you apart, given half a chance, while those under Tuke’s supervision would happily go on about their business. In whose company would you prefer to spend some time?’
‘And let’s say you were in physical danger from an invading army or were being bullied by someone stronger than yourself.’ Pyke stared at Hardwick and smiled. ‘Who would you turn to for help? A smiling lunatic or violent outlaw?’
‘Good God, man, criminals of any denomination should not be lauded as heroes. They are but children who lack the necessary self-discipline to control their excessive passion.’
‘Unlike you, Mr Hardwick, I grew up around such people and there is nothing childish or ill-disciplined about most of them. They are just poor, desperate people doing what has to be done in order to survive.’ Pyke decided it was time to move in for the kill. ‘And is that who murdered our newborn baby just delivered from its mother’s womb? A child?’
For the first time Hardwick’s composure seemed to crack. He stammered something about the difference between conventional criminal behaviour and homicidal monomania.
‘But practically speaking, Mr Hardwick, how does your diagnosis assist those of us actually involved in the process of trying to catch whoever murdered these people? Who, or what, are we supposed to be looking for? By the sounds of things, any of us here could be suffering from homicidal monomania, if the symptoms are undetectable under ordinary circumstances. Surely you don’t suspect one of us?’
A laugh rippled around the room. An indignant Hardwick was about to respond but before he had a chance Peel intervened, to bring their discussion to an end. He thanked Hardwick for enlightening them with his theories and, addressing Pyke, said, ‘If you find our friend’s ideas to be less than useful in this particular instance, perhaps you could share with us your own thoughts regarding what you witnessed and how they might assist us with the investigation?’
Pyke made a point of addressing the room from where he was sitting. As he had done to Fox and Vines, he explained what had happened, what he had seen and what it might mean. When he had finished there was a sober hush in the room. Peel glanced nervously at Charles Hume. Hume merely nodded. Peel thanked Pyke for his illuminating thoughts, and said he was sure his discoveries would be of tremendous use to the investigative team.
Charles Hume agreed. Hardwick sat in silence, scowling. Beside him, Pyke heard Fox whisper, ‘You stuck it to the bastards. Well done.’
As the gathering broke up, Peel came across to where he was sitting and asked Pyke whether he might be able to stay behind for a few minutes, so
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