by Rebecca King
“Not the ones I saw. They were really young. The oldest must only be about twelve and the youngest not much older than six or seven. I don’t believe any of them had the strength to do this, much less the interest. The gang I chased this morning were mischievous urchins. They are not ruthless enough for this. It could be the new gang, but if so why? They didn’t take his cravat pin or his coins.”
“Why were the gang you saw out this morning if they are innocent though?”
Luke shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they are avoiding the older gang now working the area?”
His anger toward the pick-pockets wasn’t really directed toward them for their mischievous devil-may-care grins, or total disregard for the law, or even the insulting hand gestures they always gave people who shouted at them. They were, after all, a victim of their own circumstance. They didn’t ask to be born into impoverished families who couldn’t afford to feed or clothe them properly. They were invariably drawn into their life of crime by the surrounding people, and the dire circumstances that drove them to it. No, his anger was directly solely toward the gang-masters who ordered the pick-pockets around, took the majority of the money they stole for themselves, and battered the children who objected or didn’t do as they were told. The pick-pockets, to their masters, were merely a means to an end. To Luke, the children were as much victims as the people they targeted. He didn’t say as much to Barnaby but, even if he got into trouble with his bosses in the War Office, no pick-pocket he collared was going to face the magistrate. Their masters, however, most definitely would.
“I will go and see if I can find Simon.”
Barnaby was already shaking his head at Luke’s offer. “I think we need to scour the area first. I mean, he isn’t going anywhere is he? There is no reason to think that anyone is going to move him again. They wanted him out of sight. Well, he is out of sight. People are starting to appear in the park now - look. It would be a stupid murderer indeed who would brazenly carry a corpse over his shoulder in broad daylight for the world to see. Besides, we have to look around for the woman. She may be in here too.”
Luke conceded that he had a point and began to wander around the area to look for anything – or anyone else - the killer might have left behind. Both men began to walk in ever-increasing circles until, an hour later, they left the woods. Eventually they returned to the spot on the bank where Luke had left the body with Poppy.
“These are your drag marks from when you took him out of the river,” Barnaby murmured quietly as he squatted down to study the telltale marks in the soft earth.
Luke frowned down at them and put his booted foot alongside a solitary footprint barely visible in the grass just a few feet away.
“Well, unless the corpse has found the capability to walk again, he was helped by someone with smaller feet than me, but I doubt it was the woman.” Luke shook his head in disgust, fully sympathising with the look of confusion on Barnaby’s face.
Together they began to wander up and down the embankment, but couldn’t see any more footprints or marks to indicate that anyone had even walked on the grass recently. That solitary step had been put there by whoever had moved the corpse, Luke was sure of it.
“The killer must have hidden in the trees. I doubt he was the man you chased though.” Barnaby nodded toward the thick woods behind them and sighed in disgust at the density of it. It was going to take hours and more than two of them to complete a thorough search but they needed to find the murder weapon, and the woman.
“An accomplice must have been hiding around here somewhere. Probably deeper in the woods? Or further along the path? Who knows? One thing I do know for certain is that the man I chased didn’t have the time to come back here, move the carcass, and then vanish himself before I got back. Not even if he had the woman’s help.” As he said the words, Luke desperately wanted to deny that Poppy had any involvement in the killing. It irked him greatly to think that someone had led her into a life of crime but he also knew that it was foolish to discount anything right now. He had seen with his own eyes just how duplicitous women could really be and wasn’t prepared to be swayed by any pretty face – not even someone as captivatingly stunning as Poppy.
“I wonder if the accomplice appeared and scared the young woman away. She could have run in fear that the killer had returned and would do away with her,” Barnaby reasoned. He squinted into the distance while he contemplated that.
Luke nodded. It seemed entirely credible someone had scared her away. She had been incredibly nervous while Luke had been there, and he had done nothing that would frighten her. It was conceivable that she had been alone, scared, and had not wanted to be caught with a dead man who had clearly been murdered. Had someone scared her though, or had she run to protect herself from blame?
“Let’s scour the river bank further down. We should soon be able to tell if he was thrown into the river from within the park, or further upstream somewhere.”
“There is a canal that leads into this. He could have been dumped in anywhere along there,” Luke sighed. His eyes met Barnaby’s. The canal networks that fed the river running through the park led straight from the East End of London: Terrence Sayers’ patch.
“Who else was in the area this morning?” Barnaby asked when they met up at the far end of the woods.
Luke ran a weary hand down his face. “When I arrived I saw only the pick-pockets hassling Poppy. They accosted her because I think they thought she was an easier target than me. I chased them but then Poppy screamed again. I didn’t know if she was being attacked by more pick-pockets so came back. By the time I got here, she was nonsensical because she had found the body. She had hooked it with a stick to stop it floating away but didn’t know what else to do with it so had screamed.”
“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Barnaby finished on a sigh.
“Something like that.”
“Well, I think we have to find one of the pick-pockets you saw earlier. They may have seen someone else hanging around that you weren’t aware of. After all, they could have doubled back and returned to the park once they realised you were too old to catch them, but you would have been too busy with the body, and Poppy to notice.”
“It wasn’t a pick-pocket in the trees. The man I saw was an adult,” Luke warned.
“Fair enough. So we will keep an eye out for him too,” Barnaby declared firmly. “Given you had a better look at the pick-pockets though, I think we are better off starting with them.”
Together they began to make their way toward the main gates. Barnaby lifted mocking brows and eyed his friend’s attire. “Have I told you how dapper you look today?”
“God, don’t start that. I know I was born to be a workman. How in the hell anyone wears these monkey suits all day is beyond me,” Luke growled and glared when Barnaby sniggered. “It’s your turn next time. After all, they know what I look like now so I cannot be a lure again.”
That was enough to wipe the smirk of his friend’s face.
“We are going to have to be careful about which pick-pocket we choose for questioning,” Barnaby said. “If we catch one of the younger ones we are going to have to let them go after questioning. We could keep an older gang member in jail until this investigation is over.”
Luke was already shaking his head. “None of the gang I saw was old enough to be sent off to jail. You would never get a murder charge to stick because they just weren’t big enough for murder, and they hadn’t taken anything from either Poppy or, as far as I am aware, the deceased.”
The thought of any of the younger gang being subjected the harsh cruelties of life in jail was unconscionable to Luke. Although it would probably be a slightly better life than they had at the moment, there was less freedom in jail and more brutality from the wardens who were apt to give lashings as punishment. As far as he was concerned, jail was no place for any child, no matter what crimes they committed.
At the main gates, the men turned and looked at each other. Barnaby�
�s eyes dropped to Luke’s gold chain again and a cunning look swept over his dark features. Luke sighed. He knew that look and realised then that it was going to be some time yet before he could get any breakfast.
CHAPTER FIVE
Poppy visibly shook by the time she returned to the hovel later that morning. Her journey had taken far longer than it should have done because she had stopped several times to make sure nobody had followed her. As a result, her stomach was a bundle of churning worry that threatened to overspill at any moment. She didn’t want to be at the hovel at all, but there really was nowhere else she could go. Not unless she wanted to take a return journey all the way back to Cumbria, which she didn’t have the strength for right now, or her possessions at hand to take with her. She was so worried that she felt as though she was capable of jumping out of her own skin if anything even remotely untoward happened. Although she was fairly confident nobody had trailed her to the hovel, she would feel infinitely more confident about that once she was inside where it was, well, sort of safe.
She hated London, with its smog filled and confusing, litter strewn streets. She longed for the quietude of country life, and the small, somewhat humble abode she had grown up in. Her journey across London to the park had changed her outlook on life completely, and she knew that after today nothing would ever quite be the same again. Mostly because she had been ensnared by the enigma that was Mr Luke Brindley, and she knew she would ponder about him for a long while yet.
She entered the house as quietly as she could because she needed a few moments alone to compose herself and decide what to do next. Fate was working against her though because she barely made it across the hallway before she became aware of the shuffle of footsteps coming from the front room of the house.
“You are back,” Clarence called from the depths of the front room. It wasn’t a question.
Poppy’s lip actually curled, which was quite uncharacteristic of her but bore testament to how derisively she now looked upon her sire. She was angry with him. No, more than that, she was coldly furious at him for his selfishness; his callous disregard for everything she held dear, and his complete cowardice for not having the strength of character to deal with the mess he had gotten himself into.
She didn’t bother to answer him. Instead, she silently made her way through the scullery toward the kitchen. It was only when she reached the doorway that she realised she was still held the bag with the money in. Strangely, she had been so busy scouring the streets for anyone acting suspiciously that she had forgotten all about the huge sum of money in her hand. The last thing she wanted to do was admit to Clarence that she had not delivered it as she was supposed to do. Just knowing that kind of money was in the house would be impossible for him to ignore, and he would be plundering its bountiful depths before the clock struck noon. It was important to her future that the money remain largely untouched for now – at least until she could decide whether to return it to Peter or not.
“It is foolish to hand this over,” she whispered. She continued to ignore Clarence’s repeated calls for her to answer him and hurriedly stuffed the bag into a cupboard beside the hearth. She turned around just as Clarence made his entrance.
“Well?” he demanded without preamble.
“Well what?” she asked coldly, careful to keep her gaze averted from the cupboard, and Clarence’s somewhat searching stare. Rubbing her chilled arms, she turned her attention toward lighting the fire. It was enough to make sure that her cheeks didn’t flush guiltily and she was able to meet Clarence’s gaze with all the cool aplomb of someone who belonged within the upper echelons of the ton rather than someone who was half out of her mind with worry. Now that she was back at the hovel she wondered whether it would have been better to have stayed with the corpse and wait for Luke to return as instructed. Right now, she really wanted to be in his company. That cool, calm, almost unflappable demeanour would know how to handle this situation without much in the way of thought. If only she could do the same.
Clarence sighed and looked at her with disgust, which was somewhat daring given the task he had landed her with. It raised her anger another notch, and she lifted a querulous brow as she waited.
“Have you handed it over?” Clarence snapped impatiently.
Don’t bother to ask if I am alright. Don’t worry about whether I was frightened, or ask if he threatened me. Just think about yourself you great oaf, she mused snidely.
“That’s what you sent me out there to do wasn’t it?” she replied evasively. In spite of her anger she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him outright. She knew well enough that the creditor hadn’t got his money, and he would undoubtedly let Clarence know as soon as he could. At some point in the not too distant future, the fact that she still had considerable wealth in her bag would be discovered by Clarence. What then?
It galled her now to think that she had to give the money away to a veritable stranger. The money was the only money they – she - had left in the world, and after what had happened today she knew it had to be used to secure her future because Clarence would never bother. His total disinterest over her safety today was the final straw. She had now completely had enough of his selfishness and callous disregard for her and her future welfare. It was time to leave Clarence to his down devices. As far as she was concerned, he could sort his own problems out now.
“Well? Did you?” He snapped impatiently.
Poppy clenched her teeth and nodded briskly.
“Good, then that should keep him quiet for now.”
Poppy stared at him suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘for now’?” She knew from the way he studied the floor and began to turn around without bothering to answer that there was something more he wasn’t telling her.
“Wait right there!” she demanded in a querulous voice she had never used before.
Having never heard it himself either, Clarence dutifully froze. Rather than mumble and declare himself in need of a seat as he usually did when she challenged him, this time he turned around to look at her with eyes that were as cold as ice.
“Pardon?” His voice was pure menace.
Poppy stared at the contrast in the man before her to the man whom she thought was too sick to get out of bed that very same morning and knew that she had been used once again. If that wasn’t insult enough, she knew from the scornful look on his face that going to the park for him had earned her no more respect than anything else she had done for him.
“You seem to be feeling better this morning.” Her doubt as to his honesty was confirmed when his eyes turned shifty. “So, remind me, why were you not well enough to go to the park yourself this morning?”
“Well, you have to make yourself useful,” he drawled condescendingly. “After all, what other uses do you have? You are another mouth to feed. You have to earn your keep.”
“You scoundrel,” she whispered.
“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “You are not too old for a thrashing.”
Poppy’s head snapped back as though he had just slapped her anyway, and she glared at him with all the anger that flooded through her. She had never really stopped to consider just how vile a creature Clarence was. Now the reality was there before her she felt tainted just being related to him.
“Don’t you dare threaten me,” she whispered. “I should warn you now that you are in deeper trouble than you realise. The next time you get yourself in the mire, you can get yourself out of it. You shall have no further help from me.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Clarence snorted.
“Don’t I? Really? Then who was that dead body who washed up along the river where I was supposed to meet your contact?” she challenged. She watched Clarence look at her in disbelief. All of his previous contempt vanished in an instant. “Oh yes, that’s right. I think you are in deeper than you realise because unless I am very mistaken, the person who killed that man who I found floating in the river at the meeting point must have been mistaken him for
YOU!” Her voice grew louder the more she spoke until she was shouting and physically trembling by the time she fell silent.
“A body?” Clarence murmured, clearly stunned.
“Strangled. A middle class nabob dressed just like you would have been if you had bothered to go,” she retorted. “It is strange how he happened to wash up in the area you were supposed to deliver the money. I should be careful who you threaten, father dearest, because from now on you can go to Hades if you want anything else delivered to anyone. Do it yourself.”
The events of this morning had already changed her life. She realised as she stood in the cold and somewhat derelict kitchen that life had thrown her a curve that altered her future, her destiny, completely and it wasn’t in a nice way. She knew that the only way of getting out of the horrible place was to secrete the money in the bag away, preferably before the creditor appeared wanting his payment because Clarence didn’t care two hoots what happened to her and never would.
“Not to worry though, eh, Clarence,” she continued snidely. “I mean, he thinks he has killed you. Hopefully you can get out of London before the news of the dead man’s real identity winds up in the broadsheets, and killer comes to find you to finish the job.”
She had no idea if she was heading off on a tangent, or whether there was any glimmer of truth in what she had just said, but if it made Clarence wary about what he got himself into in the future then she had no qualms about scaring him. She watched him swallow harshly but could feel no sympathy for him when he slumped somewhat dejectedly into a chair beside the fireplace. Unfortunately for him, Poppy knew that look now and wasn’t prepared to be fooled by his amateur theatrics any more.
“We can’t leave London,” Clarence muttered with a frown. “There isn’t any money left to get us anywhere else.”
With a snort of disgust she placed her hands on her hips in a challenging stance and glared at him. “You had better tell me what mess we left behind in Cumbria. Then I think you need to think about why this killer would want you dead.”
