Den of Thieves

by William Holden

  “Will I see you again?”

  “Of course you will.” He shifted in his seat to face me. I turned toward him. “I am sorry for what happened. You have to believe me when I say that I thought of you every day of my life. Your mother and I loved each other. We had so many plans and dreamed of a bright future for us and our unborn child. I was too scared to face Mr. Green. When I heard of Elizabeth’s death, I knew he had something to do with it, but what was I to do? I left you behind and moved to Cambridge. I have regretted that decision ever since.”

  “There was nothing you could have done. My…Mr. Green was a horrible man. He would have destroyed you like he did Mother.”

  “Even without meeting me, he ruined my life. I lost my son, and the only woman I ever loved.”

  “I am here now.” I smiled at him then turned to look at everyone else in the room. They all sat in utter silence, sipping their drinks and watching as my father and I managed a conversation. They all smiled at me.

  “When I heard that Mr. Green was arrested for treason and hanged, and that his son was responsible for it, I knew you were mine and Elizabeth’s. The strong will and determination ran in her family.”

  “Why did you not try to make contact?”

  “You had been through so much. I thought it might be better if I just stayed away. I did not want to cause your life any more turmoil. It was not until Mr. Baker and Sheppard came looking for me that I realized the error of my thinking. What you needed was a father, and I my son.”

  “I did not realize until I saw you here in my living room, how much I needed a father.” I wiped away several tears running down my cheeks. “There are so many questions I have for you, but it is late, and we have all had a long and trying day.”

  “Yes, a good night’s sleep sounds like an excellent idea.” He looked expectantly around the room.

  “I am sorry, with everything else going on, we…of course, you can stay here,” I said. “With Mrs. Reid and Lord Burnham gone, we have some spare rooms available. Either of those on the right. They are not much, but are quite comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  I stood when my father did. We struggled between a handshake and a hug, laughed at the awkwardness, and ended with a tight embrace.

  “Goodnight, father.”

  “Goodnight, son.” He turned to the others. “Thank you all for your warm welcome. Goodnight to you as well.” He nodded as everyone else said their night greetings.

  I turned and watched him walk into the bedchamber and shut the door.

  “Are you all right?” Christopher asked as he and Pierre approached me.

  “I think so.” I shrugged. “It is a lot to take in.”

  “If you need anything at all, Thomas.” Bess came up and kissed me on my cheek. She then turned and walked down the hall to Mother Clap’s old room.

  Sheppard took the half empty bottle of gin and retired to his room as well.

  “Let us try to get some sleep, shall we?” Pierre said. “Tomorrow, I am afraid is going to be another long day for all of us.”

  Chapter 19

  “Good morning, Thomas.” My father said as he came out of his room. He ruffled my hair as he walked by and took the seat next to me.

  “Good morning.” I said with a smile as Pierre, Christopher, and my father all said their morning greetings, I tried to get used to the fact of who this stranger was sitting next to me.

  “I hope we did not wake you,” Bess said. “Would you care for some coffee?”

  “Coffee would be wonderful. Thank you. And no, you did not wake me. It was a restless night.”

  “It was indeed.”

  “Do you have anything scheduled for today, Thomas?” My father asked.

  “Pierre and I have to go to the House of Common this morning at eight, but other than that, no.”

  “Perhaps we could spend some time together before I have to leave.”

  “I would like that.”

  “Good.” He smiled, nodded as Bess sat a plate of toast on the table with some leftover roast. “It has been a long time since I have dined with anyone. This is nice.”

  “Why is that, father?”

  “The printing business is a demanding trade. I work irregular hours, sometimes all night. It does not lend itself to having a lot of friends.”

  “You never married?” Pierre asked. “Sorry, I do not mean to pry.”

  “Not at all. No, I could never love another woman like I did Elizabeth. My heart will always belong to her and her alone.”

  “I am sorry.” I did not know what else to say.

  “It is alright.” He looked around the table. “We do not always get to choose how we live our lives. Besides, I have a handsome son to get to know. That is all I have ever wanted.” He sighed and shook his head. “My apologies, Thomas.”

  “For what?”

  “I promised myself last night as I was lying in bed that I would not put pressure on this…us.”

  “Father, do not be ridiculous. This is an awkward situation for the both of us. It will take some time to get adjusted to having a father, and you having a son. It is what I have always wanted.”

  “Thank you.” He rubbed my back.

  “Sir.” Sheppard came in through the side door as we were finishing our breakfast. “The carriage is ready and waiting for you and Thomas.”

  “Thank you. We shall be right there.” Pierre wiped his mouth and stood. “We should go, Thomas.”

  “Yes.” I stood and finished off the last of the coffee in my cup. “We shall be home soon, then you and I can spend the rest of the day together.”

  “I look forward to it. In the meantime, I shall help Miss. Dutton get the dishes washed and put away.”

  “And that will give us time to get to know each other a little bit.” Bess poured my father some more coffee.

  “If it is okay with the two of you,” Christopher stood. “I should like to go with you.”

  “I would like that.” I turned to my father. “I shall see you soon.” I nodded then followed Pierre and Christopher out of the house.

  “I am sorry I kept the news of your father a secret.” Christopher said as the carriage turned onto Fleet Street.

  “There is no need to apologize. You were right in keeping it from me. The knowledge of my father coming to town would have distracted me from my job.”

  “Now that it is just the three of us, Thomas.” Pierre placed his hand on my leg. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

  “I shall not lie. It is a bit odd.” I glanced at Pierre then Christopher, then back to Pierre. “I have to keep reminding myself who this stranger is. Then when I look at him, I can see myself in him, which makes it all the more unsettling.” I shook my head. “I know I am not making any sense right now.” I saw both Christopher and Pierre raise an eyebrow. “No, it is good. It is going to take time. Unfortunately, we just have a few hours today before he has to go back.”

  “I have an idea.” Christopher’s face lit up. “Why do we not pack a bag and take Mr. Vandenberg back to Cambridge ourselves. We have never taken a holiday, and after everything that has happened, I think we deserve one. It will also give Thomas more time to spend with his father.”

  “I could certainly do with some time away from London,” Pierre said.

  “I think we all could.”

  “Then it is settled, and I am happy to be the coachman.”

  “That is not necessary, we have Sheppard.” Pierre responded.

  “I know, but after spending a few days with him, I think the best thing we could do is to give Sheppard and Bess some time together to work out their differences. He is crazy about her.”

  “Who am I to stand in the way of love.” Pierre nudged me and winked. Something shifted in the air of the carriage after the decision was made to take a holiday. Perhaps we were all deep in thought at the prospect of time away from the city we loved, and the city that seemed eternally focused on causing so much stress. I let
my mind drift elsewhere for a time until the carriage came to a stop. Christopher opened the door.

  “Gentleman.” Mr. Atwood called out as he came to greet us. He shook our hands. “You must be Mr. Baker.”

  “I am. I hope I am not imposing. I am happy to wait in the carriage.”

  “There is no need for you to stay back. Please, come. The sergeant is waiting.” He turned on his heels and strutted across the garden with the three of us following behind him.

  As we approached the sergeant’s office, Jenkins and Tobias were on duty. They nodded but kept a stern expression on their faces. Mr. Atwood knocked.

  “Yes, yes, come in.” The sergeant called out.

  Mr. Atwood opened the door and led the three of us in. I was shocked to find the sergeant seated by his desk. I looked across the room at his collection of wigs, which he always seemed to be attending to in one form or another. They all sat on display in pristine condition. I wonder how many of them he actually put to use. I refocused my attention as the sergeant stood. It was then I noticed Mr. Borgstrom seated in one of the chairs next to the desk.

  “Gentleman, welcome.” The sergeant scooted around the desk with light and dainty steps, prancing his way toward us. “I do not believe we have had the pleasure of an introduction.” He bowed in front of Christopher. “I am Theodore Spence, sergeant-at-arms.”

  “Christopher Baker.” He bowed.

  “You do have fine tastes, Mr. Newton.” He winked then pranced his way back around his desk. “Please, have a seat.” We waited for him to sit, before taking our seats. “Well, this is cozy. Is it not?” He interlocked his fingers and shrugged. His spirits were high, even for him. “I assume you all know Mr. Borgstrom by now.”

  The three of us nodded in his direction—a silent acknowledgment.

  “I thought it would be a good idea for all of us to sit down and come together over this nasty little problem that has been plaguing the king.”

  “If I may.” Mr. Borgstrom interrupted as he stroked Fielding. He waited for the sergeant’s nod, then continued. “I owe you all an apology and an explanation. You must believe me when I tell you I was not aware of what was going on. It was not until his majesty contacted me and asked me to come to his aid did I realize Cassia and Ansell, who were my assistants for over a decade, might be involved in the rebellion.”

  “I do not understand.” I spoke up, even though I knew better than to start my tongue wagging. “Were you not the one extracting private information from your clients?”

  “No, I was not. I was here at the request of your king. I was to act as a decoy. I would never be a part of a plan to overthrow the king. Cassia and Ansell made all the arrangements. They had planned the murders well before we arrived in London. Ansell could charm anyone, and he did. He convinced Mrs. Reid, and Mrs. Durrant to come to me for a trance. I assumed that was all there was to it.”

  “Mr. Borgstrom, you left the women alone while they were in the trance, did you not?” Pierre asked.

  “Yes, Cassia would interrupt the session to pull me aside about some important business that needed my attention. I have come to the conclusion this is when Ansell must have slipped in and retrieved the information about the money, and when they would be out of the house.” He shook his head and sighed. “I still cannot believe I did not see any of this coming. Ansell and Cassia made several trips to England well before my time here. They must have been planning this for quite some time. After the Durants were murdered, we needed to push Mr. Wilcox further. I went to the magistrate and told him of my suspicions. He thanked me for coming to him, then threatened me. He told me if I spoke to anyone else about this, he would ensure I would live to regret it.”

  “That is why he killed Cassia,” Pierre said.

  “Yes, an unfortunate repercussion of the need to force his hand. He wanted me to know how the new business arrangement was going to work. Ansell was distraught over his sister’s death, and vowed he would get out after the last job.”

  “The one I set up,” I said.

  “Yes. Please, I do not blame you. You did the right thing. It needed to end. Ansell did this to himself. He will die at the hands of the executioner, instead of Mr. Wilcox. In some ways, I think it will be a more humane death.”

  “All of this was an act to get to Mr. Wilcox?” I paused. “The nails.”

  Mr. Borgstrom smiled and nodded.

  “It is why you fed me false information. You knew I was not tranced.”

  “You may be many things, Mr. Newton but a good actor is not one of them. I knew if I mentioned Cassia’s nails directly, you would try to implicate me further, and I could not have Mr. Wilcox thinking I had betrayed him. I needed to feed you the clue quietly as it were.” Mr. Borgstrom placed Fielding inside the shoulder box then stood. “Again, my apologies. I must be going. I am heading back to The Hague. I wanted a few moments to explain, so you do not think the Dutch are all wicked people. Please, no need to get up. Maybe one day our paths will cross again.” He bowed then took his leave.

  “Well, I am glad all of that ugliness is over.” The sergeant waved his hands in the air, shooing away any negativity. “On to new, more pleasant business.”

  “What new business is that?” I asked. “Surely, the rebels have been…”

  “The rebels have retreated for now, but I am sure they will be back. They always are…no, no, I said pleasant business.” He shook his head as if irritated with me, then winked. “Mr. Baptiste, this is for you.” He rose from his seat, leaned over the desk, and handed Pierre a tri-folded piece of paper with the official seal of the king on it.

  “What is this?”

  “Open it, and you shall find out.” The sergeant was almost giddy with excitement as Pierre broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

  “What is it, Pierre?” I asked.

  “I cannot believe it. The king, he has granted me British citizenship.”

  “That is fantastic news.” Christopher patted him on his back.

  “I do not understand, this…it is wonderful…but…”

  “But, this, that…” The sergeant waved. “It is official, and there is nothing you can do to change it. You are stuck with us, Mr. Baptiste.”

  “Congratulations, Pierre,” I said. The pride I felt warmed my entire body. I think I became as giddy at the sergeant with the news.

  “There is one more piece of business I need to discuss, and seeing how the three of you seem to work so well together, I am glad you are all here. The king has requested that you, Pierre, be the next magistrate of the City of London.”

  “Me?” Pierre choked from the news. “The new magistrate?”

  “The king…everyone here…we need someone who cannot be bought. Someone we can trust to clean up the city. You are that man, Mr. Baptiste.”

  “For what?”

  “The king would like you in your new position to create a police force in the city. Similar to what other cities like Paris and Rotterdam have, but more effective and efficient, you know, more British.”

  “I am honored. And yes, I will accept under one condition.”

  “Which is?” The sergeant leaned against his desk.

  “Mr. Newton and Mr. Baker agree to work with me. The three of us together will create the police force his majesty desires. I cannot do it without them.”

  “I am in,” Christopher said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Wonderful, then it is settled. I shall inform his majesty of our new magistrate, and we shall be in touch soon to find you a proper office to begin your work.” The sergeant stood and came around from behind the desk. “Now if you would excuse me, I must get back to my wigs.”

  Pierre, Christopher, and I walked out of the sergeant’s office and down the corridor without saying a word. If they were like me, we were all shocked by what had transpired inside.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked Pierre as we stepped out into the morning light.

  “Like it is a good time to be going on holiday.
I have a feeling we are going to be busy once I take office.”

  THE END

  ABOUT WILLIAM HOLDEN

  Originally from Detroit, William Holden now lives in Cambridge, MA with his partner of eighteen years. He has a Master's in Library and Information Science from Florida State University. Over the past decade, he had focused his work on collecting, and preserving, GLBT history and is a volunteer archivist at Boston's History Project.

  William has been writing for over fifteen years, accumulating more than seventy published short stories in the genres of erotica, romance, fantasy, and horror. He is an award-winning author of such titles as, A Twist of Grimm by Lethe Press (Lambda Literary Award Finalist), and by Bold Strokes Books, Words to Die By (2nd place Rainbow Book Awards for best horror) and (Finalist for the American Library Association’s Foreward Book Award for Best Horror). Secret Societies and its sequel, The Thief Taker were both finalists for the Lambda Literary Award.

  Crimson Souls, published in 2016 by Bold Strokes Books, is based on the 1920 purge of homosexual students at Harvard.

  William has also written encyclopedia articles on the history of gay and lesbian fiction and has authored five bibliographies for the GLBT Round Table for the American Library Association.

  For more information, visit williamholdenwrites.com.

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