by Chris Hales
He hardly knew what to do. He couldn't fail, and he refused to give in so easily.
Tom Edwards was certain he would catch this killer. One day he would collapse under his harsh justice. He would prove himself to all who doubted him.
14
The days passed quickly for Jonathan. Faster than he ever imagined his debt was being repaid. Hitchin was true to his word and each week the warden was handed a large sum of money. All so he would soon be set free.
His duties were simple enough. He would assist the city marshal on his walks during the early hours of the morning. Catching thieves and other criminals was the main priority during these dark mornings. During the day he found himself working hard to manage the city marshal’s books and thieves.
It was immediately obvious to Jonathan how much Hitchin was earning from his gang of thieves. His wage was insignificant compared to the marshal’s nightly takings. He didn't mind hard work, and he was paid well for the duties he performed for him. It seemed to him not many marshals used the liberty of the gate, but Hitchin found it more than useful. The more he learned of his master, however, the more concerned he became.
Night after night he found himself on the steps to Mary Milner's house, begging for entry and sexual favours. She was more than willing to entertain her new friend. She seemed to attach herself to him very quickly. She found his intelligence and spark of thought incredibly attractive.
Jonathan, likewise, found her extremely admirable. He never expected to find himself attached to another woman. He usually tried to avoid it, but there was something about Mary which made him crave her company.
Notions of lust aside, he was growing in Charles Hitchin's estimations. He had noticed a definite rise in profits and the organisation of his thieves was better than it ever had been. Jonathan was a God-send.
He could only dream of the day when he was free to officially work for him. Hopefully the day wasn't too far away.
15
A girl lightly brushed her hair, endeavouring to make her as appealing as possible for the coming day. Mary sat in her bedroom happily enjoying the pleasures of the girl's servitude. Her rituals of preparation hadn't changed in many years, they were her way of preparing herself for the long day which would soon descend.
As she reclined in her seat to allow the girl to brush with more ease, footsteps could be heard approaching. Mary didn't look as the footfalls grew ever closer and the bedroom door slowly opened. She closed her eyes and smiled as a thud echoed across the room. She knew the cause of the sound. A girls takings for the previous day being slung on her night table.
She didn't need to open her eyes to see which of her girls it was. Her most productive of prostitutes. A girl who was, in many ways, similar to a young Mary Milner. “Thank you, Isabel,” she said with little compassion or congratulation. She didn't return a word, simply moved to the open door. “Stay a while,” she requested, turning to the girl who brushed her hair and dismissing her with a wave of her hand. “That's all for now, Claire. Thank you.” The girl vanished through the open door, nodding her head to Isabel as she passed.
She stood before Mary, hands on hips, cocking her head to one side.
She spun in her chair and locked eyes with her. She had assumed a fighting posture before her madam, prepared for a duel of harsh words. An argument of lustful emotions. “You seem angry, my dear,” she said calmly. Shaking her head Isabel took a step back, preparing for verbal attack. She knew what had led to this. It was inevitable.
“No,” she grumbled. “I'm fine.”
“Don't lie to me girl,” she spat, standing and circling the bed. “Do you think I haven't noticed? Do you consider me a fool?” Isabel followed her with unimpressed eyes.
“I don't think you a fool, Mary,” she defended. “I only wish you'd come out and tell me what you think you know.” Crossing her arms she remained defiant.
Mary chuckled. It was a short snigger which held no amusement. “I've seen the way you lust after him, Isabel. The way you take every opportunity to run your slender fingers across his skin. The way you dream of taking him to your bed.” She had watched as Isabel paraded about Jonathan every time he came to visit. She was persistently trying to steal him away. Mary couldn't allow that. She liked him far too much.
“Well, if I'm honest,” Isabel smiled wickedly as she stood her ground. “I did see him first.”
Mary’s chuckles ended abruptly. She turned and retraced her steps, making her way back to her girl. She kissed her heavily on the lips as a beginning to her warning. “Isabel, my lovely,” she warned in a low, calm voice, “this is no child's game. I am not some tart you can readily fuck with.” Quickly she punched, catching her off guard and forcing her to drop to knees. With one hand she caught Isabel by the throat, stepping behind and tugging harshly on her long hair. “I like Jonathan, Isabel,” still she sounded calm, despite the fact she was causing her great pain. “I'm not going to let you ruin what could very possibly be a great thing.” Isabel clutched for air as Mary's grip tightened. “If you dare go near him again...,” her ability to breath had vanished entirely. “..., I will kill you, and this is no lie.” She released Isabel, watching as she hungrily drank in the air of the room.
She was not a woman who enjoyed playing games with her girls. She was their madam and they should respect her. Those who didn't would feel the power of her fury. That was, quite simply, the way of things.
It had been a long time since she had fought for a man's interest and she was no longer in a position where she would lose. Jonathan's visits to her house had become more frequent and enjoyable than she ever thought possible. She had finally found a man who made her happy. A man of equal intelligence and a strong spark of wit. For Isabel to think she could steal him from under her nose was ridiculous. She had to keep order, if she were to keep her man.
16
Jonathan Wild was content. The time spent in Woodgate had been far easier than he ever expected. His relationship with Hitchin had helped greatly. The guards treated him differently to any other inmate. He now received nothing but respect and assistance from them and he found himself far removed from the beatings which invariably took place.
The Warden soon realised what Jonathan was doing for Hitchin and took measures to employ the debtor himself. It seemed all those in a position of power abused it with great regularity.
He still enjoyed the games of chance and the gambling which occupied every dark corner and abandoned cell. He soon came to the realisation many let him win, out of fear for those who now considered Jonathan their friend. It was clear he was a king among his fellow debtors. And he had Charles to thank for it all.
Virtually every evening he was set free to assist Hitchin he would find time to visit Mary. He never expected to find another woman with whom he could share his experiences and a bed with. Especially when he was doing time in debtor’s compter. He was, most certainly, the only inmate who was enjoying the pleasures of a sexual romance.
Mary would happily listen to his tales of running from bailiffs and cheating all manner of men out of their money. He found her laughter intoxicating. She would glow and rolled on her bed in fits of giggles. She was more beautiful than any other woman he had ever met, but he knew Isabel was attracted to him and he would return her flirtatious advances. He found it kept Mary on her toes and made her far more vigorous in bed. He had never known a woman who was so comfortable with her sexuality.
Despite Mary's warnings of Charles Hitchin, Jonathan had found him more than approachable and accommodating. Maybe this had something to do with the excellent job he was doing for him and as each day passed Hitchin became less aggressive and fearful.
Every day, as he slept, Jonathan would dream of his release from Woodgate. It was fast approaching, of this he was sure and nothing else mattered so much. He was a man who, with his incarceration, had found a great purpose in life. He was rapidly becoming an ally and a friend, to thieves, prostitutes, criminals, the corrupt and the
fearful. He had also found his place as a lover of great repute.
And The Fun Begins...
17
As they walked one evening, Hitchin pulled Jonathan into a dark alley which bordered the great river. Maybe his friendliness had finally ended and his time of freedom had also ceased. Mary's warnings how Hitchin would be the end of him rapidly rushed his mind. Perhaps his time was up.
Hitchin pushed him up against a wall and bore down on him. “Jonathan,” he growled. “The time has come.” He balled his fists and took him by the collar. This was it. This was the end.
Hitchin simply laughed and slapped him, affectionately, on the cheek. “Fear not, my funny little friend,” he inhaled with great relief. “You're unlike any other I've plucked from Woodgate. Trustworthy, efficient and hard working.” He relaxed, releasing his hold and stepping back. “I like you Jonathan and I feel I must offer you a great reward.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a bag of money, holding it out for Jonathan to take. He felt its weight in his hand. It didn't seem like much of a reward for the work he had done. “I guess I should thank you,” he said with little gratitude.
“More than you know,” he spoke with great amusement. “It should be enough to find you food and board.” The city marshal waited for it to sink in. He knew he would work it out.
“You mean...,” he stuttered, “..., I'm...,”
“Yes, Jonathan,” he beamed. “You're free.” He slowly smiled. “Your debt has been repaid. When you get back to the compter, collect your things and leave a free man.” Hitchin felt something new. Pride.
“Thank you, Charles.” He was both shocked and surprised. It had been a little over sixteen weeks since he had come to his agreement with him. It must have been an impressive record.
Hitchin nodded as he strutted before him. “Don't think your servitude is over yet,” he should have expected this. He’d force employment upon him. “You will be released in the morning. I expect you at the gates to the Bailey by ten o'clock. Your absence will be met with harsh punishment.”
He should have realised this would happen. It was unavoidable. Hitchin would have him do his job for as long as he required. He was now a slave to the city marshal’s desires. At least he didn't need to find employment in the traditional manner.
“I'll be there,” he said. “Where should I go now? Where will I sleep?”
“I don't care,” he growled. “Run along to that whore you've been cavorting with,” he slapped Jonathan on the shoulder hard. “Just remember with whom your allegiance lies.”
He could hardly imagine the depth of the agreement he had entered into months before. He was now a slave to do his bidding. He knew, however, there were ways out of everything. Which he had just proved by his release from the compter. The only question was how deep into his world would Hitchin have him plunge.
18
The days of Mary treading the streets of London, looking for willing partners in sexual union, had long since expired. Now those who wished to sleep with her had to visit her home. Her list of regular customers was long and filled with the mighty and the terrible.
She prepared herself for the day at hand by dressing in a revealing outfit which made her recognisable as a prostitute of considerable ability. It was as she styled her hair over her slender shoulders the door swung back powerfully. Her instincts took over and she reached for the knife which lay on her dressing table. Always ready to act as her defence.
Turning, blade outstretched, she relaxed as she focused on the figure who stood in the doorway.
He smiled, slinging his shoulder bag to the floor. Mary placed the knife back in its resting position and grinned. “Mr Wild,” she beamed, “what a pleasure to see you. During daylight hours at least.”
Jonathan strode towards her, taking both of her hands in his. “I'm a free man,” he grinned. “I only have one last debt to pay.” Reaching into his pocket he laid a pile of coins on her dressing table. She looked at the coins, smirking.
“I require an apology,” she laughed. “You obviously regard me as a cheap whore, rather than the experienced lover which I am.” Jonathan cradled her head in his hands and kissed her deeply, relishing in her taste.
Pulling away from him she pointed to the open door. “Close the door, lover,” she smiled a genuine grin which caused his heart to flutter. “Privacy is needed.”
He skipped to the door, kicking it shut with an outstretched foot. Turning back to Mary he began unbuttoning his shirt. Mary was the only place he wanted to be.
19
“What will you do now?” she asked as they lay, entangled in each other’s arms.
“I have a job with Charles,” he whispered as he stroked her hair with affection.
She pushed him away, forcing him to roll off her. Sitting up she stared at him with deep concern. “That's not wise,” she squeezed his hand. “Have you dismissed everything I told you?” How could he have ignored her words of warning? Hitchin would kill him, of this she was sure. He never stayed friendly, he always turned murderous. Kissing him lightly on the lips she squeezed his hand harder. “I have a better idea.”
“Do you, now?” he asked. “More positions of depravity?”
She laughed once and cupped his head in her hands. “Come and work for me.”
Jonathan laughed hard, gripping the bed sheets for stability. “And what would I do?” he chuckled. “I doubt I'd make a particularly attractive prostitute.” He continued to laugh, running his hands along her slender arms. “Besides, I doubt you can match the amount Charles is paying me.”
She smiled at him, concern washing over her features. “He will kill you. You do know this?”
He held her tightly, relishing in her sweet essence. “I've known men like him before, Mary.” Memories of his father began to fill him, rising sickly in his throat. “I can handle him, please trust me.”
She pushed him back. “Fine, throw your life away. I tried to warn you.”
He pulled her back towards him, embracing her tightly. “There is nothing to say I can't do things for the both of you,” he kissed her again. He considered it the perfect solution, making them both happy and content. She lay back, allowing him to spin out of bed and dress.
“Just be careful,” she said as he plunged his legs into trousers. The last thing she wanted was for him to become over-confident. That would surely end his life. Especially where Hitchin was concerned.
She smiled at him, love present in her eyes. “I can handle Charles,” he said again.
20
“He's a liability.” Matthew sat at Mary's kitchen table, drinking and eating some recently cooked chicken. “He's always been a problem.” He reached over the table to take her hand in his. “Aren't you worried?”
Their relationship had begun many years ago. She had found him stealing food in markets when he was barely eight years old. Living on the street he was desperate for a home. Mary had only just begun acting as a madam and offered Matthew a place to live in her new abode, bought using money saved from her sexual exploits. He soon found himself serving as a pickpocket for her. As he grew he became a far more experienced thief, until the day when he became the gang leader of notoriety everyone knew.
He loved Mary as a child would their mother. She was important to him and he always found himself concerned for her safety. Charles Hitchin had been a constant reason for worry, but he was growing more unreliable and dangerous. This new man she had been seen with was only another cause for concern.
“Charlie’s not my fear,” she said.
“You think it’ll stay that way?” he asked. “When he's finished dumping other girls in the Thames he'll come ‘ere.” He only wanted safety for her girls. The rampage he would embark on if they were hurt, in any way, was best avoided for everyone.
Hitchin was the riverside killer. Everyone knew this and his actions as this murderer were well known among the criminal fraternity. They all knew this lunatic was he, but there was little
which could be done about it. None was brave enough to confront him. If they identified him as the killer to the legislature it would serve no purpose. A city marshal would be believed over a thief and all they would find was the gallows. At the end of the day it would be a man, such as Matthew, who would be forced to take Hitchin's life. Even he was unwilling to enter into his complicated web of deceit. So far Mary's girls had kept themselves safe, but he worried for them deeply.
“He'd never dare come near my house,” she said defiantly. Slender and fragile she may have seemed, but she was equally as vicious in a fight as Matthew, or any other. She could handle herself and she would be far harder to kill than even Hitchin could believe.
He pushed his plate of chicken bones aside and drank strong liquor from a tall glass. Reclining in his chair he winked at Mary. “Now,” he started. “Tell me about this Wild character.” He had always been concerned about the men with whom she found herself in a relationship with. He had liked none of them and all had hurt her in some terrible fashion.
“Jonathan?” she asked, knowing he was often far too protective. “Are you jealous?” she joked.
Jealousy was not an option for him, but he did care for her deeply. He did not find her little joke funny in any way. “Just concerned,” he said, his deep voice lined with purposes of protection.
“Don't be,” she ordered. “I like him, Matthew. He's good for me.” She appreciated him watching over her. When it came to her personal life, however, she didn't need or want it.
He squeezed her hand and winked affectionately. “Just be careful,” he said, knowing her love life was usually a disaster. “If you ever need me...”
She kissed his hand and forced her release. “I'll be fine,” she said. “He's good for me..., different.”
He relaxed a little, although he did have his doubts.
