by David Field
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that in addition to campaigning for a free Ireland, they boost their available funds by undertaking private jobs. It may well be that someone in a vulnerable position in London who was under threat from Stranmillis tried to make his demise look political.’
Jack thought for a moment, then looked up in horror. ‘Carson?’
Percy shook his head. ‘Carson and Stranmillis were on the same side, politically, and it was Carson who started this entire ball rolling. If he was behind Stranmillis’s death, why seek the services of Scotland Yard to ferret out the truth?’
‘Good point,’ Jack conceded. ‘But then who else?’
‘Another good point. We’re no further ahead than we were at the very start of all this, except that we know that Stranmillis was lured to his death by a promise that he could safely disappear from public view. The change of trains at Crewe, the disconnection of the Pullman carriage at Beeston, and the passage on a coal steamer to Cork, were all part of a plan that Stranmillis believed would lead to a new life, whereas in fact it was intended all along to result in his obscure death in the Liverpool docks. What we need to do now is investigate more deeply into who organised that double cross — was it the person who arranged for all the subterfuge, or someone who took advantage of a gift horse when they became aware of it?’
‘I still don’t understand why anyone would seek to kill a person that they were obtaining blackmail money from.’
Percy tapped his nose in a familiar gesture. ‘Don’t assume that it was Stranmillis who was being blackmailed. What if he was the blackmailer? Wouldn’t that make more sense?’
‘Of course it would, as I pointed out yesterday, but why was he making regular payments to Samuel Allen?’
‘Allen’s a blackmailer, is he not?’ Percy reminded him. ‘If the purpose of the blackmail wasn’t financial — if Stranmillis was gaining some other advantage by threatening to expose his victim — then clearly he’d need to pay Allen for his services in keeping the pressure on the victim, would he not?’
‘I clearly need to visit Mr Allen again,’ Jack observed. ‘And this time I’ll take Esther with me.’
‘You’ll do nothing until we’ve discussed this further,’ Percy insisted. ‘All three of us, that is. Time we took the train back to London, Jack my boy.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Four days later Jack and Esther were shown into Allen’s sumptuous home office and Jack introduced Esther as ‘Lady Molyneux, the lady about whom we spoke during my last visit.’
‘Indeed, and delighted to be making your acquaintance, your Ladyship,’ Allen oozed as he shook her hand and waved her into the second visitor chair in front of his desk. ‘I’m advised that you can supply me with certain information regarding your husband’s ... er, “personal habits”, shall we call them? — which will enable me to oblige Mr Jackson here in the matter of the return of certain embarrassing documents that were stolen from your handbag.’
‘At no cost to either of us?’ Jack prompted him.
Allen nodded. ‘Indeed not. So, pray tell me what your husband would wish to have concealed from public knowledge.’
Esther did her best to look embarrassed. ‘It was my invariable practice to attend a bridge session at the home of Lady Claridge on Tuesday afternoons. On this particular Tuesday I arrived to discover that her Ladyship was unwell, and so I returned home, only to find my husband in ... in ... “circumstances” with one of our young footmen that left me in no doubt as to what had been transpiring. The footman was dismissed, but with a good character after he confessed to me that his “activities” with my husband had been going on for several months, whenever I was at bridge. My husband and I never resumed our marital relationship, and then I had the good fortune to meet Mr Jackson here, who was gracious enough to be attracted to my fading beauty, and he and I developed a relationship that remains important to me. But the scandal of divorce is something that I cannot contemplate, so if it were possible for those documents of passion to be retrieved we would both be extremely grateful.’
‘The name of this servant, if I might make so bold?’ Allen enquired.
‘William Somers,’ Esther lied on cue.
‘And your husband’s full name?’
‘Seymour Molyneux. Sir Seymour Molyneux.’
‘The same Sir Seymour Molyneux who occupies the post of First Secretary to the President of the Board of Trade?’
‘Yes.’
Allen smiled sickly, then reached out and rang a hand bell on his desk. Almost immediately the door to the room opened, and two burly men stalked through it, each armed with a heavy club.
‘You will forgive my lack of hospitality, Mr Jackson and whoever your delightful accomplice is, but in my line of business one always requires associates with certain specialised abilities. I am well acquainted with Seymour Molyneux, and had you taken more detailed instructions from Paddy Ryan, you would have learned that Molyneux is not married. However, you were correct in your assessment of his sexual preferences, which is why Mr Ryan was obliged to take certain steps to ensure that such preferences did not become general knowledge.’
‘So it was Ryan who arranged for Stranmillis to disappear, was it?’ Jack asked, seemingly unperturbed by the presence of Allen’s thugs in the doorway.
‘Did he not advise you of that, before sending you here in an attempt to discover whether or not I knew?’ Allen smirked. ‘How remiss of him not to recall that it was I who was employed as the go-between for Stranmillis and Molyneux. And I assume that the plan was that when you returned with the necessary confirmation he would have me removed in the same way as his former boyfriend Stranmillis, employing some more of his Irish playmates? Well, as you can see, the pair of you will not be in any position to report back to him after my colleagues here render you unconscious for long enough for your late afternoon dip in the Thames.’
‘We are not the only ones who got it slightly wrong,’ Jack replied with a wide smile as he drew the revolver from his jacket pocket and pointed it in the direction of the doorway. ‘It is fortunately equipped with six shots, there are only three of you, and I am accredited a fair marksman. However, I must follow orders. Esther, would you do the honours?’
While Allen remained behind his desk with a gaping jaw, and his two bully boys stood uncertainly in the doorway, Esther walked to the window that commanded a view of the street below and waved her handkerchief as she looked down with a smile. A minute later came the sound of pounding feet on the staircase from the street, followed by the unmistakeable noise of splintering wood as the front door gave way to the fifteen pound metal ‘enforcer’, and three uniformed constables obeyed Jack’s command to buckle the two bodyguards, who offered no resistance.
Percy appeared in the doorway with a smile and looked across at Jack enquiringly. Jack nodded.
‘I assume you want the credit as usual, so buckle Mr Allen here for Accessory to Murder, unless he’s disposed to give us the whole of the story that he’s so far only confessed to half of. It was indeed Ryan who was behind it all, so you owe me a tenner. However, Stranmillis was a Mary-Anne, so the account’s squared.’
‘I guessed some of that!’ Esther protested.
‘Ah yes, but for a civilian to engage in a wager with a serving officer in the Metropolitan Police regarding an ongoing investigation is contrary to law, and therefore unenforceable as a contract,’ Percy smirked. ‘But you do qualify for a cream cake in that fancy tea shop I noted on the corner.’
‘I assume that this will be the last of the fish and chips?’ Jack asked sadly on the Saturday following, as they met for dinner in the Clerkenwell rooms.
Percy nodded. ‘Regrettable in one way, but cause for celebration in another.’
‘Did Allen prove forthcoming?’ Jack asked, while Esther lowered the oven door and slipped the parcel inside.
‘Sang like a canary, rather than become entangled in a murder investigation.’ Percy smiled. ‘He’s on
ly a slimy blackmailer, at the end of the day, albeit a very successful one. He freely confessed to putting the weights on Molyneux to award all those lucrative contracts to Stranmillis rather than have his fondness for ladies’ clothing made public knowledge — a matter discovered by his fellow fetishist Stranmillis during those parties at Bosie Douglas’s place in Surrey, of course. So there was a connection with Wilde, after all.’
‘And armed with that knowledge, what did you get out of Ryan?’ Esther asked as she placed the bread and butter on the table.
‘As much as I need to have him charged with murder, including a confession.’
‘Why would anyone freely confess to a capital offence?’ Esther said disbelievingly.
‘Because it doesn’t necessarily have to end on a trapdoor,’ Jack explained as he sat down and began brandishing a knife and fork suggestively, looking pointedly at the oven. ‘There’s such a thing as a “recommendation for clemency”, which is best obtained in return for telling the whole story from the very beginning. It’s called “co-operating with the authorities”.’
‘And Ryan co-operated most obligingly,’ Percy advised them. ‘Not only did he admit to having organised his friends in the Fenian Brotherhood to dispose of Stranmillis — and bear in mind that he’s a lifelong Catholic, whereas Stranmillis was reviled by anyone hoping for Irish Home Rule — but he told us why.’
‘To obtain all the Government contracts that Stranmillis had been getting as part of his blackmail, using Allen as the hired go-between?’ Jack suggested.
Percy nodded before turning to stare at the oven.
‘All right, all right, I get the message,’ Esther advised them testily. ‘But while you’re both congratulating yourselves, don’t forget that I was the one who picked out Molyneux as the likely blackmail target.’
‘He was the only senior Government figure on the list!’ Jack pointed out. ‘Stranmillis was hardly likely to be blackmailing a Catholic Bishop, the headmaster of a public school or an operatic tenor. And you nearly got us killed by failing to note that Molyneux was unmarried.’
‘I never said I was perfect.’ Esther grinned, before bending forward to open the oven door.
‘So, at a guess, Molyneux offered Ryan first pick of future Government contracts in exchange for getting Stranmillis off his back?’ Jack suggested.
Percy nodded, then smiled as he saw Esther placing the sauce bottle on the table. ‘So what have I left out, Esther?’
‘The reason why Stranmillis was persuaded to make himself scarce, which presumably had something to do with the upcoming Wilde trial?’
‘Isn’t she truly splendid?’ Percy asked rhetorically as he cut into his first piece of fish. ‘You never asked that, Jack.’
‘You never gave me the opportunity,’ Jack replied sulkily. ‘But go on — show off, as usual.’
‘Esther said it all,’ Percy explained. ‘Stranmillis apparently had a particularly embarrassing hobby when he was with rent boys.’
‘That disgusting little stinkpot Campbell told me that,’ Jack interposed. ‘He liked to dress up as a woman while Campbell...’
‘Yes, thank you, Jack,’ Esther interrupted. ‘No more of that, unless you were hoping to wear your fish and chips.’
‘Anyway,’ Percy continued with evident amusement, ‘the last thing he wanted was to be around when Campbell advised the court of that, as he was persuaded he was about to do. He wasn’t, as it happens, and in the event of course he didn’t give evidence at all, but it was enough to scare Stranmillis, so that when Ryan offered to organise his escape route, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.’
‘So — all over and done with,’ Jack sighed contentedly. ‘We can look forward to a few days off after a job well done.’
‘I’m not sure you can,’ Percy said quietly.
‘How do you mean?’ Jack and Esther said in unison.
‘Well tomorrow’s Sunday, and we missed worshipping at your mother’s shrine last week. She’s been in touch with Beattie, and I really think you should make the effort tomorrow. Apparently, your mother’s been meddling again, and you need to prepare yourselves for a shock.’
‘I can’t believe that you’re not ecstatic!’ Constance Enright complained after carefully clearing her mouth of the lemon syllabub that had been specially bought in for the Sunday dinner that they had been all but commanded to attend. ‘I’m offering you a four bedroom house, free of all encumbrance, and all you can do is sulk! At least Esther looks more excited. Aren’t you, dear?’
‘More taken by surprise than anything,’ Esther replied diplomatically as she squeezed Jack’s hand under the table cloth. ‘But it was indeed most generous of you.’
‘I had a motive of my own, clearly,’ Constance admitted. ‘With you all installed in the old Bentley house, I’ll clearly get to see more of my grandchildren. Plus you and Jackson, of course. Jackson, have you nothing to say — not even “thank you”?’
‘Thank you for the thought, obviously,’ Jack muttered gracelessly, ‘but how many times have I tried to advise you that I’m required to live in London as a condition of my employment?’
‘Your employment with the Metropolitan Police, certainly. But what if you were to join the Essex Constabulary? I suppose it’s too much to expect you to give up policing and pursue a more respectable career, but did you really think I hadn’t already taken care of that as well? Percy was most obliging in that regard.’
Jack shot a furious glare across the table at Percy, who looked down uncomfortably at his empty bowl. ‘It was only a character reference, and I wasn’t obliged to lie or anything,’ he muttered.
‘So what have you got for me?’ Jack demanded angrily. ‘Am I to become the next Chief Constable of Essex?’
‘Not yet, anyway,’ Constance replied, as if unaware of the ironic tone in which the question had been delivered. ‘But they need a new Detective Sergeant in Chelmsford, and with your new house being so convenient for the station...’
‘So you had me apply for the job, without me even being aware of the fact?’ Jack protested angrily.
Constance shook her head. ‘Not directly, no, but after Percy wrote that wonderful reference for you, the job’s yours. The fact that Chief Superintendent Charles’s wife and I became good friends during that Ladies’ Guild National Conference that I attended in Ipswich was merely the introduction.’
‘So you’re suggesting that I take up a new role supervising men who’ll be well aware that my mother got me the job?’ Jack demanded, red-faced.
‘You’re clearly overcome by the excitement, and no doubt the suddenness of it all,’ Constance suggested. ‘Why don’t you and Esther take a turn in the garden and start planning your move? Esther dear, I think you know what Jackson needs to be reminded of, in the way of his duties to his family.’
‘She’s really gone too far this time, the interfering old...’ Jack began, until Esther put her fingers to his lips, then replaced them with her own, as they stood hidden from view behind the potting shed.
‘Did you know anything about this?’ Jack demanded as they separated.
‘Not until Percy came over with those fish and chips yesterday, and whispered it to me in the doorway while I was showing him out.’
‘How can I possibly get out of this, given that she’s already bought the bloody house?’ Jack said, almost in tears. ‘And I bet she used the last of my family trust money to do so!’
‘Do you really want to get out of it?’ Esther questioned softly.
Jack looked down at her in amazement. ‘Are you serious?’ he demanded.
Esther nodded. ‘We need to move anyway, now that we have three kids. London’s getting grubbier and more dangerous by the week, and even you described the local children that Lily would be attending school with as “riff-raff”. Out here, the children could play in the open air, just like you once did, and you could grow vegetables in the garden. Chelmsford’s less than an hour away by train, and the station’s only a few doo
rs down.’
‘Has Mother been bullying you onto her side?’
‘No, Jack — I just want what’s best for our family, and this way we could enjoy a much better life, and you’d still be a police officer.’
‘You mean that you actually want to make this suggested move just for yourself, and not simply because you’re scared to say no to Mother?’
‘Your mother stopped frightening me some time ago, Jack. This would be for us. And with four bedrooms, well — who knows?’
***
Want to carry on the journey with Esther & Jack? Read The Mercy Killings — Book Six in the Victorian crime series.
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A NOTE TO THE READER
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your latest investment in the exploits of Jack, Esther and Percy Enright, who certainly live through some interesting times.
Oscar Wilde not only authored a series of plays that were so successful that they’re still in the repertoires of modern theatre groups — he also authored his own downfall when he unwisely sued the Marquess of Queensberry. This was late Victorian England, a nation that prided itself on its rigid morality, and the last thing it needed was someone jumping up and down exposing his own preference for sexual partners of the same gender. The Establishment was both shocked and nervous at what was coming out in the newspaper reports of a trial that should never have been launched, had Wilde been properly advised.
To put matters in context, it should be remembered that homosexuality in those days was not even mentioned in a polite society that preferred to believe that it didn’t exist. It was regarded as so alien to Queen Victoria’s cosy little tea-party world that some medical specialists were even looking for a cure for it! As one of my characters in this book points out bitterly, if a cure had existed, there would have been long queues of men — and even women — prepared to pay for whatever was available.
