by Deryn Lake
“Yes, A grim story that ended with equal grimness. What will happen to the rest of the Angels? The ones not involved in last night’s attack.”
“They are in mighty trouble. I named names to the coroner as well as to the excise men when I took the opium to the Customs House. The Riding Officers were preparing to set a trap for them in the coachouse at Wildtor Grange, waiting till they came to collect their booty, then making arrests. For those who escape that, the coroner is duty bound to hand the information about Juliana’s murder to the constables. I think we can safely say that the Society of Angels will shortly cease to exist.”
“I feel somewhat sorry for Brenchley Hood.”
Joe shrugged expressively. “His father is Lord Hood so he will have the finest barrister that money can buy.”
“But he killed Gerald Fitz, another family with connections.”
“Then it will be the battle of the Titans. But I agree. Hood and Richard van Gulyder seemed to be the dupe of others, the creatures sent to perform menial tasks.”
“Was Peter Digby-Duckworth the leader of the gang, do you think?”
Joe considered, running his fingers through his tight bright curls. “I had suspected Fitz from all you said about him, but Peter was the one with the tattoo on his wrist. Furthermore, he must have been the gaffer from Exeter that Saul described. His carriage bears the family crest and beneath it the legend “Sic transit gloria mundi”. Now didn’t the old man tell you it had something to do with sickness?” He laughed harshly.
“So passes away earthly glory,” John translated. “Well, his has certainly gone, though for sure there was no glory in him. As far as I am concerned he was one of the most foul individuals ever born. To kill the mother of his child because she stood in the way of his inheritance.”
“Murder has been committed for far less.” Joe answered starkly.
John did up the final button on his shirt and sat down beside the clerk. “I should have guessed that Fitz and his friends were with the Angels far sooner had it not been for the duel I witnessed.”
“The one in which he rescued Coralie Clive?”
“Yes. You know, at the time it struck me as very theatrical, very staged and rehearsed-looking. But even when Percival Court, Lord Clyst’s son, showed me his sword wound at Fitz’s party I still didn’t put two and two together. It wasn’t until Eliz … “ The Apothecary stopped speaking.
Joe turned on him a totally blank face. “You mean that a chance remark by another party gave you the clue you needed.”
John stood up and swung his arms as if he were cold. “Yes, precisely.”
Joe also got to his feet. “That’s often the way of it,” he said, and then he winked.
* * *
A few miles out of Exeter the wind changed and the song of the sea was no longer audible. The wind blew from the south east and spoke of towns and cities and the great heaving metropolis of London.
“We’re going home,” said John, with a tinge of regret in his voice.
“Are you sorry?”
“In some ways. Are you?”
“No,” said Emilia firmly. “I can’t wait to move into Nassau Street and set up residence in town.”
“What about the Kensington house?”
“Our country retreat, to be visited when Sir Gabriel invites us.”
“It will be an open invitation.”
“Then I shall go whenever you wish, my dear.”
Moving to the window, John stared back over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Devon. It has been a most interesting experience.”
Emilia laughed. “Are you referring to the adventure we had or our honeymoon?”
“Both really.” He looked at her seriously for a moment. “Did you enjoy yourself or did the death of poor Juliana ruin it all for you?”
His wife looked at him gravely. “I enjoyed most of it, which, I suppose, would be a fair thing to say about one’s life in general.”
“You’re a wise little thing,” he said, and kissed her hand.
She smiled at him. “So John Rawlings, apothecary of Shug Lane and married man, returns to London and domesticity.”
“Of course. To a quiet, respectable married life.”
Emilia’s smile broadened. “Don’t you think that sounds rather dull?”
“Horribly so.”
“Then why don’t you rephrase it? To a rather noisy, sometimes extraordinary, frequently exciting state of matrimony.”
“Will it be like that?”
“It might.”
“What do I have to do to achieve it?”
“Occasionally go mad in the wild west but never stop loving me.”
“Never,” said John, knowing that from now on his future was entirely bound up with hers.
Then he held her close to him as, unbidden and unwanted, there ran through his mind’s eye a vivid picture of a solitary rider, cantering through daffodils as the gulls wheeled above and the shifting tide boomed upon the shore.
Historical Note
John Rawlings, Apothecary, really lived. He was born circa 1731, though his actual parentage is shrouded in mystery. He was made Free of the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries on 13 March, 1755, giving his address as 2, Nassau Street, Soho. This links him with H.D. Rawlings Ltd. who were based at the same address over a hundred years later. Rawlings were spruce and ginger beer manufacturers and in later years made soda and tonic waters. Their ancient soda syphons can still be found, these days usually in antique shops. I was recently presented with one by my favourite French readers, the College La Millaire of Thionville, and am tremendously proud of it.
It may seem incredible to us in the twenty-first century to realise that the famous Sweeny, the Flying Squad, was actually founded by John Fielding, the Blind Beak, in the eighteenth, and that the two Brave Fellows were the forerunners of characters similar to those played by John Thaw and Dennis Waterman. Yet from 17 October, 1754, onwards, an advertisement worded as follows appeared regularly in The Public Advertiser:
WHEREAS many thieves and robbers daily escape justice for want of immediate pursuit, it is therefore recommended to all persons, who shall henceforth be robbed on the highway or in the streets, or whose shops or houses shall be broke open, that they give immediate notice thereof, together with an accurate description of the offenders as possible, to JOHN FIELDING, Esq. at his house in Bow Street, Covent Garden …
And if they would send a special messenger on these occasions, Mr. Fielding would not only pay that messenger for his trouble, but would immediately dispatch a set of Brave Fellows in pursuit, who have been long engaged for such purposes, and are always ready to set out to any part of this town or kingdom, on a quarter of an hour’s notice.
The list of places that the Brave Fellows visited as quoted by John to Emilia in the text is perfectly genuine and has been taken from the records.
The interchange of the words cannavis and cannabis is historically correct. So is the description of the effects of a carelessly retted cargo of hemp. Finally, the use of Cannabis sativa in medicine is recorded by Culpepper, though he does give this warning: Too much use of it dries up the seed for procreation. Sailor beware!
