Den of Thieves

by William Holden

  “What are you saying?”

  “The robberies are just a distraction from what is going on.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “To warn you away from Mr. Wilcox. The man is evil, Mr. Newton.”

  “So, he is the one behind the murders?”

  “No, it runs much deeper than him.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No, I saved you tonight, because I must speak to Pierre Baptiste. He is the only one who can help me.”

  “Then I shall take him to you. He lives with me at Clapton’s.” I stood. Ash reached out and held my hand.

  “No, we cannot be seen together.”

  “Seen, by whom?”

  “You have no idea what you are getting yourself into, Mr. Newton.”

  “Do you know who the man was, who tried to murder me?”

  “No, there is no way to know.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “We are on the verge of a rebellion, Mr. Newton. They are everywhere. No one can be trusted.” He stood. “Go, but do not stop until you get home. Tell Mr. Baptiste I must speak to him tonight. I shall come to Clapton’s within the hour and tell him everything.”

  “You are scaring me.”

  “Good, you should be. Go, and please be careful.” He opened the door, peered down the alley in both directions, then guided me out. “Go,” he whispered with more force than I thought possible in such a quiet tone. I turned, ran, and did not stop until I reached Clapton’s.

  “Pierre?” I called out after several deep breaths to try to calm my breathing. “Pierre?” I called again and was ready to take a seat at the table when Pierre replied from upstairs.

  “Thomas? Where have you been?” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Mon amour, what happened to you?” He came running up to me, placed my face in the palms of his hands, and looked at the cut across my cheek. “It is a shallow cut, thank god.” He then stood back with a look of concern as he took in the state of my attire. “What happened?”

  “Honestly, I am fine. The cut is the least of our worries.”

  “Thomas, what are you not telling me? Did something happen with Mr. Wilcox?”

  “Yes, I stole a rare and valuable piece of jewelry for him.”

  “Thomas, that is not funny.”

  “It was not meant to be funny. One of Mr. Wilcox’s thieves a man by the name of Ash accompanied me. The brooch is with Mr. Wilcox as we speak.”

  “Thomas, I do not think his majesty meant you should be taking up with Mr. Wilcox in quite that fashion. He could have you arrested.”

  “He will do no such thing.” I held out my hand to keep him from speaking. “Please, there are more urgent matters than my involvement with a robbery.” I went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of gin and two glasses.

  “Are you sure, you should be drinking more?”

  “I need the gin to get the taste of the beer out of my mouth.” I poured us drinks and waited for Pierre to take a seat. As we drank, I recounted the events after the robbery, the attack, and subsequent rescue by Ash. My heart was racing again by the time I finished the story.

  “Ash did not say who was behind the murders?”

  “No. Ash refused to talk about it with me. He said he could only trust you, and needed your help. He believes his life to be in danger. I tried to get him to come with me, but he said there were too many of them watching the streets, being seen together was too risky.”

  “The man who attacked you—”

  “Ash did not recognize him. At least that is what he told me. He should be on his way here.” Both Pierre and I jumped as a succession of rapid knocks came to the door. “It must be Ash.” I stood, walked over, and opened the door.

  “My Lord, Bess, what happened?” Tears immediately filled my eyes as I looked at her bruised, swollen, and battered face. Her dress was torn and soiled. Her lips trembled as if she was trying to speak, but no words came out. I took her in my arms and held her. Her body gave into my comforting embrace. She wept into my shoulder.

  “Please, come in.” Pierre came up and took her two bags and placed them near the extra room. I shut the door then helped her to the table where Pierre had retrieved another glass and offered her a drink.

  She smiled and held the glass in both hands to help steady it. She took a sip. “Thank you.”

  Pierre pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat and dirt from her forehead and cheeks. Pierre placed her hand in his. “Who did this to you?”

  She looked at Pierre, then to me as I pulled up a chair and sat beside her. Her lips quivered. “I…”

  “Please, let us help you,”

  “I cannot go back to him.”

  “Back? Do you mean…”

  She nodded. “Yes, Jonathan.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch.” I slammed my fist against the table. Bess reached out and held my hand.

  “Please, Thomas.”

  “Why would he do something like this?”

  “He questioned my loyalty to him, especially after he saw how Nicholas and I got along the night at his dinner party. He knew I had spent the night with Nicholas. I told him he was not my keeper…” she dabbed her eyes. “I will not go back.”

  “Nor should you.” Pierre rubbed her back. “What do you need from us. Anything at all.”

  “I hate to impose, but I need a place to stay and a job.”

  “Bess,” I brushed the hair away from her face. “You are family. You can stay here as long as you like and based on the crowds at Clapton’s tonight, Crowe would love the help of an experienced barmaid. Consider yourself hired.” I smiled at her.

  “Thank you. I do not know how I shall ever repay the two of you for your kindness.”

  “There is no need.” I refilled her glass. “The room on the left is available. You should go and lie down for a while. Have you eaten?”

  “No, but I am not hungry. Thank you, though.”

  “If you need anything at all.”

  “What is she doing here?” Sheppard staggered into the room. He slammed the door behind him, whether by accident or to make a louder statement, I could not say.

  “Nicholas.” Bess said as she stood and turned to him.

  “What…” Sheppard became lost for words as he looked at Bess’s injuries. The anger etched into his face diminished momentarily. I thought for a moment he was going to give into his desire and run to her, cradle her, and protect her, but then his face changed. The coldness he exhibited toward her returned.

  “Mr. Wilcox beat her for spending the night in your bed.” I knew my tone was harsh, but I wanted him to see the pain he had caused Bess, hoping it would sober him. “She has left the Goose and Gridiron and has no place else to go.”

  “You mean you are letting that whore stay here?”

  “Sheppard,” Pierre shouted. “I will not have you speak like that to any lady, is that understood?” We waited. “Is that clear?” he repeated.

  “Yes, sir.” He stared at his feet.

  “Bess,” I continued. “Is going to live here with us. I have also hired her as our new barmaid at Clapton’s to help Crowe.”

  “You mean to fuck your clients.”

  “Sheppard, if your attitude does not change I am going to dismiss you from our service.”

  “It is all right, Pierre.” Bess walked toward Sheppard.

  “I will not stay under the same roof as a whore.”

  “How dare you.” Bess slapped him. “I was good enough to invite into your bed after knowing me for a few hours, but now I am nothing but a common whore?” Bess took a step back, grabbed her bodice and tore it open, exposing her breasts. She began to cry, and she ripped her dress to shreds and stood naked in front of Sheppard. “Why look so ashamed, Nicholas?” Is this not what you expect from a whore in London? You are nothing but a drunk hypocrite. Jonathan Wilcox may be a lot of nasty things, but early on he was kind enough and man enough to get me off the streets. He watched out for me and
made sure the men treated me with dignity and respect. I may have earned a few extra shillings on my back from time to time, but even on the streets, men showed me more respect than you are showing me. You call yourself a man of faith? Tell me, how is your attitude God-like? And to think I cared about you.” She picked up the remains of her dress. “I thought I might have a chance to get away from this life the night I met you, but you have proven me wrong. You are no better than the rest of the sorry fucks in this city.”

  “Bess.” Sheppard began to cry. “I am…sorry,” he said through heavy sobs. He placed his hand on her breast. “Kiss me.”

  “Kiss you?” She slapped his face and threw his hand off her breast. “You must be joking. You are a drunk, Nicholas.”

  “Please, Bess.”

  “I care for you Nicolas, but I cannot tell whether it is you or the alcohol speaking to me. Sober up then talk to me. She shook her head then turned toward Pierre and me. “Thank you. I hope you know my words are no reflection upon the two of you. The both of you are true gentlemen in every sense of the word.” She blew us a kiss then went into her room and shut the door.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself, Sheppard,” I said. He came up to the table and reached for the bottle. “You have had enough.” I took the bottle from his grasp. “Go to bed, and tomorrow I want you to apologize to Bess.”

  “Sorry…I…fuck…” his words were slurred. He raised his hands as if shooing us away then stumbled into his room and shut the door.

  “I think it is time we find someone else.” Pierre looked at me.

  “Let him sleep it off. The last thing Sheppard needs is to lose the only connection he has to a family.”

  “I know, but we cannot go on like this.” He pulled me into his embrace. “Who ever thought you would be the man of reason.” He kissed my forehead.

  I looked at him. We kissed. His mouth opened to mine and as he pulled me closer, I felt the familiar rise of his prick pressing against mine. I reached between us and unlaced his breeches. I slipped one, then two fingers inside. His body trembled. He moaned into my mouth. The warmth and firmness of his trunk caused my restless prick to stir. I gave into my desire, and moving my hand farther into his breeches, I began to palm his prick. I closed my eyes and listened to the rapid beating of his heart.

  Much to my dislike, Pierre pulled my hand out.

  “Thomas.” He nodded and laced his breeches.

  It was then that I realized someone was knocking at the door. “I am holding you to a good fuck tonight, Mr. Newton.” He went to the door and opened it.

  “Ash, I presume?”

  “Mr. Baptiste, thank God.” He walked into our home without being invited. He was agitated and nervous. He looked around the room as he entered. He seemed to relax a bit when he saw we were alone.

  “Did something happen? Were you followed?” I asked.

  “No, I do not believe so, but I know they are looking for me. My life is in danger, Mr. Baptiste. I was told I could trust you, please, you must help me.”

  “Who sent you to me, if I may ask?” Pierre motioned for Ash to sit down. I poured all of us another drink. With everything that had transpired tonight, my drunkenness had vanished. I wanted to get the effects of the alcohol back to dull my nerves.

  “People talk, Mr. Baptiste. Word on the street is you cannot be bought.”

  “Thomas has filled me on what happened tonight. I need you to tell me what you know. Are you the one robbing the victims?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ash, how does the setup work?”

  “Mr. Wilcox sends for me. He gives me a slip of paper with the details of the robbery.”

  “What sort of details?”

  “The address and time the robbery is supposed to take place. I am also told where to find the key and coffer.”

  “Then why did you give me a pick and have me open the coffer today? Why not just use the key?”

  “The note Mr. Wilcox handed me, said not to use the key. I assumed it was to test your skills.” He finished his drink. “Please, you must understand, I did not know.”

  “Know what?”

  “That the people I was robbing were going to be murdered.” He shook his head and took a drink. “The robberies are a front for the murders, Mr. Baptiste. Mrs. Durant was just a victim of circumstance. She was not supposed to be there, but she had to die to hide the truth.”

  “How do you know this?” Pierre asked.

  “Mr. Baptiste, I have been working for Mr. Wilcox for four years. No one knows I can speak. I believed it was the one way to ensure my survival. If Mr. Wilcox and others did not think I could rat them out—”

  “Then you would be safe.” Pierre finished. Ash nodded.

  “When I heard, Mr. Reid had died, I thought it was just a coincidence.”

  “Please, Ash. Who is behind all of this?”

  “They will kill me if they think—”

  “But I cannot help you unless you tell me everything.”

  “After the murder of the Durant’s, I started putting the pieces together. When I went to drop off the jewelry from the robbery, I overheard Mr. Wilcox talking to someone about the murders. He is using me as a pawn, a way to distract people from the truth of what is going on.”

  “What did they say?” I wanted to know who they were as much as Pierre. I hoped by coaxing Ash along he would tell us.

  “Mr. Reid and Mr. Durant are not the only ones who are going to die.”

  “My Lord, the Westford’s” I looked at Pierre then Ash. “The ones we robbed today.”

  “We must go.” Pierre pushed his chair back. Ash reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “The Westford’s are safe. After I had left you at the Goose and Gridiron, I went back to check on them. I waited for an hour after they returned home, and nothing happened. I do not think Mr. Westford was…” Ash shook his head.

  “It is all right, we know about the connection with the British army and the Royal Navy,” Pierre said. “If Mr. Westford was not a member of the armed services, then why carry out the robbery?”

  “For your sake, Mr. Baptiste.” Ash glanced at me then Pierre. “I take Thomas on a random robbery, get him involved, and no one is murdered.”

  “Leading us to believe he is not a part of all of this.”

  “How did you know about the connection between the men?”

  “The how is not important, Ash,” I said. “We have been looking into the murders.”

  “Then you must know that the people of England, they are tired of being ruled by the king and the Church. The people of this country no longer believe in the governance. The rebel’s numbers are growing daily, and they plan to weaken and even disable the army and Navy.”

  “Which will leave the king vulnerable,” Pierre said.

  “And England,” I added.

  “Ash, please you must tell me. Who is behind the uprising?” Pierre reached out and held his hand. Ash pulled away. “If what you say is true, the whole of England and thousands of people could die. Is Jonathan Wilcox behind all of this?”

  “He is a part of it, but no he is not the source. “I have not been able to find the source. The rebel’s plan runs too deep.”

  “Who was Mr. Wilcox talking to?” Pierre pressed.

  “It…” Ash’s words stopped dead as Bess came out of her room. Ash’s eyes widened with fear and anger as he looked at her. “What is she doing here?” He stood so abruptly the chair crashed to the floor. He looked at me, then Pierre. “How could you do this to me? I thought I could trust you.”

  “Ash, my Lord, you can speak.” Bess came toward him. “What is wrong, Ash? Why are you acting as if you are afraid of me?”

  “Stay back. I…I cannot believe you betrayed me, Thomas.”

  “What are you talking about? Bess is a friend of ours. You can trust her.”

  “No, no one from Mr. Wilcox’s den can be trusted. Do you not understand?” He pulled his knife out of its sleeve. “What have you done
, Thomas? She is a part of it. Bess is loyal to only one man and now I am as good as dead.”

  “Ash, please. Do not do…” Before I could get out of my chair, Ash raised the knife and slit his throat wide and deep. Blood sprayed over his dirty shirt and splattered Bess’s face and dress.

  “Oh, God, no,” Bess screamed.

  “Ash.” I stood and rushed to his side. I fell upon my knees and cradled his body. His body shook and convulsed. I pulled off my shirt and held it to his wound, hoping to slow the bleeding, but it was no use. He knew how to use a knife to kill, and he was not about to miscalculate his self-murder. He looked up as he took his final breaths. His green eye was skimmed with fear.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Sheppard came out of his room in nothing but his thin linens. He looked at the body on the floor then over to Bess, who was shaking and splattered with blood. “Bess.” He stumbled closer to the body, then paused.

  “Oh, Nicholas.” Bess ran to him. He opened his arms and held her. His body wavered from his night of drinking. “Are you all right?” he asked. She shook her head but did not say a word. They both turned and looked down at the body. He crossed himself. “Lord help us.”

  “Bess, what is this about?” Pierre went to her.

  “Why are you asking me?” She pulled herself from Sheppard’s embrace. “I do not know anything about this? You think I had something to do with his death? Thomas, what is going on?”

  “Bess, it is not you. Please, do not take offense.”

  “Then what are you saying, Pierre?”

  “I am not blaming you, Bess. I am just trying to understand why he panicked when he saw you. He was obviously afraid of you, or afraid of what you would do with the information he was about to give us.”

  “He was not scared of me. It was Jonathan. I knew Ash, but only in passing. I did not even know he could speak.”

  “Fuck,” Pierre said in a low grumble. “We were so close to learning the truth.”

  “Pierre, please you must believe me. This has nothing to do with me. Ash saw me and only knows me as Jonathan’s woman. He probably thought you were setting him up.”