Rose Campion and the Stolen Secret

by Lyn Gardner

  “Where?”

  “On a piece of notepaper in Lizzie’s box, the one that was stolen. It stands for Ivanhoe House.” Aurora looked at Freddie and gave Rose a warning glance. Then she mouthed silently over his head, “It’s an asylum for the insane. In Balham.”

  Rose gasped. The idea of Grace being forcibly taken to a mental asylum was horrifying. “We’ve got to get back to Campion’s, and fast. Come on.”

  They peered out of the alleyway. She was sure Josiah Pinch would give up looking for them in Shoreditch and concentrate on catching them as they closed in on Campion’s. She looked down at Freddie’s tear-streaked face. He was exhausted and drowsy in her arms. How were they going to get into Campion’s without being caught?

  “Do you have a plan, Rose?” asked Aurora. Rose shook her head hopelessly.

  “Maybe we should look for Effie…” Aurora trailed off, seeing Rose’s face.

  “I know she helped us just now but she lied about knowing that man. He’s called Josiah Pinch, and until we know what’s going on, I don’t know if we can trust her.” Rose frowned as a plan formed in her mind.

  “That’s it!” she said. “We’ll go to the Fortune; it’s not far from here. They’ll help us. Hall folk always help other hall people. We can get them to send a message to Thomas.”

  A cloud of face powder billowed up in the dressing room and made Rose sneeze. Tilly Tiptree, known as “the Fortune’s Jewel”, was a singer whose rich voice carried above even the noisiest audience and whose quick wits and improvised repartee could quell any heckler. She put down the powder puff and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

  “There! You’d never guess he was a boy,” she said, taking a piece of burnt cork and darkening Freddie’s lashes.

  “Wish I had lashes like yours, Freddie lad,” said Tilly. “You’re a real little beaut. Give us a twirl.”

  Freddie scrambled down from the stool and turned in his petticoats, trying to do high kicks as he twirled. Tilly laughed and gave him a boiled sweet. She turned to Rose and Aurora.

  “What do you think? Even his own granny wouldn’t recognise him, would she, if it wasn’t for that little butterfly birthmark on his neck?”

  “You’ve done a wonderful job, Tilly,” said Rose. “We can’t thank you enough.”

  “Glad to be of help,” said Tilly, then she cast a critical eye over Aurora and tucked an escaping curl back under her cap.

  “You make a very good boy, an’ all. That little suit is a perfect fit. You just need to make sure that your hair stays up under your cap.” She added, “I’m going to give this brave little chap a cake before you set off,” and she led Freddie away. They could hear her reminding him that he was only to answer to the name Dora.

  “Right,” said Rose, turning to Aurora. “Let’s run over the plan again. I’m getting a hansom all the way back to Campion’s, but I’m going to drop you and Freddie off in a quiet side street a little way before the bridge. Then you two will saunter over the bridge and down to the mudlarks. If Josiah’s on the bridge, he’ll be looking for two girls and a small boy. Or a girl and a small boy, but not the other way round. I’m certain you could walk right under his nose and he’d never know.”

  “You sure we shouldn’t wait until Thomas returns from his meetings?” asked Aurora anxiously. “Wouldn’t it be safer if he just came to get us?”

  Rose shook her head. “Lottie sent back a message saying Thomas might be out until this evening. It could be hours before he gets here, hours during which something terrible could be happening to Grace.”

  Rose took a cab all the way back to Campion’s, as planned. She found that Thomas had just returned and was beside himself with worry over the original message she had sent from the Fortune. He’d been about to set off there but when Rose told Thomas her plan, he immediately rushed off to see his lawyer, Mr Cherryble, about Grace’s abduction.

  “If she’s in Ivanhoe House I won’t rest until I’ve got her released,” said Thomas, pulling on his coat. “Don’t you fret, Rosie.”

  As soon as Thomas left, Rose went downstairs to find Lottie, Molly and Tess and explain what they needed to do.

  Aurora walked slowly over London Bridge, holding tightly to Freddie’s hot little hand. They were so close to Campion’s but so far away too. The urge to run home was a strong one. But Rose had given her strict instructions that she was to look as if she had all the time in the world. Aurora even stopped in the middle of the bridge to point out the great dome of St Paul’s to Freddie, as if they were just enjoying a relaxing tour of the sights.

  The two of them had nearly crossed the bridge. Aurora was certain everyone was looking at them curiously and that they would shortly be exposed. She passed the sheet-music sellers and a troupe of acrobatic dwarfs, and the food sellers all shouting themselves hoarse trying to sell hot eels and pea soup. She tried hard not to scan the faces of those loitering at the end of the bridge, although when a sallow man, as tall and thin as a ladder, started walking towards them her heart only stopped hammering when she realised he was greeting a woman walking directly behind them. A gaggle of men seemed to be looking for someone in the crowd coming towards them, but they didn’t give Aurora and Freddie a second glance. There was no sign of Josiah Pinch.

  She turned left at the end of the bridge and walked along the side of the river. In the distance she could see Lottie and a whole crowd of the ballet girls down on the muddy shore with the grimy mudlarks gathered around them, jumping and shouting. The mudlark children loved the hall performers, who never stuck their noses up at them. As they came closer, she saw that Lottie and the others were distributing ginger beer and Chelsea buns.

  Aurora glanced around and then sat down on a bench. She could see no sign of anyone watching them. She got Freddie to slip his feet out of his boots and then she whispered in his ear, “See, Freddie, it’s Lottie and the other girls, with the mudlarks. Run down to her and she’ll have a bun for you and then she’ll take you back to Campion’s to see Rose.” She gave him a little push, and for a second he looked trustingly in her eyes, then he ran down the riverbank, his tattered petticoats flapping, and was soon swallowed up in the middle of the other children. A few minutes later Lottie and the ballet girls began shepherding the children towards Campion’s, where they had all been promised their own little show.

  Rose peeped from Thomas’s study window, making sure she was standing well back so as not to be spotted by Josiah, who was lurking by the yard gate.

  She held her breath as Lottie and the other girls strolled up Hangman’s Alley with the gaggle of mudlark children. She watched Josiah suddenly stand up straighter. She saw him step forward, the better to scan all the boys’ faces closely. She held her breath, then sighed with relief as he returned to his pipe, an air of disappointment apparent in the slump in his shoulders. None of the boys were Freddie.

  The children disappeared through Campion’s stage door, chattering excitedly to each other as Rose went to greet them and scooped Freddie up in her arms. “You did well, little Dora,” she whispered.

  Half an hour later she let the mudlarks out of the door and watched as they sped off past Josiah down towards the river, shouting and laughing. The man didn’t even bother to look up as a serious-looking boy of about thirteen sauntered slowly across the yard. The boy held the door of Campion’s open as Lizzie Gawkin swept out with barely a glance at the child. The boy disappeared into the theatre.

  “Aurora!” cried Rose, and she enveloped her in a bear hug. “You did it!”

  Aurora grinned. “Even Lizzie didn’t recognise me. Lottie did bring Freddie in, didn’t she?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Rose. “It all worked beautifully. Josiah didn’t even give Freddie or you a second glance. It just goes to show that people only see what they expect to see. They often can’t see the truth even when it’s staring them right in the face.”

  It was very late. Downstairs the staff were clearing up from the evening performances. Occasionally s
omebody could be heard calling goodnight as they went home. But the lamp in Thomas’s window burned bright.

  Freddie was asleep in the next room, exhausted by the day’s events. Thomas, Rose and Aurora were holding a war council.

  “Dr Fogg, the director of Ivanhoe House, denies all knowledge of Grace,” said Thomas. “My lawyer went to Balham to meet him and he was quite insistent that no patients have been admitted today. Mr Cherryble, a sound judge of character, is convinced that Dr Fogg is lying but could hardly accuse him to his face. It wouldn’t help us, in any case. But he did see one of the carriages and drew the crest.” He showed the paper to the children.

  “That’s it,” said Rose. “No doubt about it. It was on the carriage that took Grace away.”

  Thomas sighed. “Mr Cherryble says that if we have proof Grace is being held at the asylum against her will, he can start legal proceedings to get her out. But if they deny she’s incarcerated and we have no proof that they’re lying, there’s nothing he can legally do.” Everyone looked horrified, and Thomas shook his head sorrowfully.

  “The real question,” said Rose, “is why does whoever took Grace want her and Freddie? Josiah Pinch must be working for somebody, somebody influential enough to have Dr Fogg in his pay. So why are they such a threat?”

  “It’s a mystery,” said Thomas, “but it must be connected with poor Ned’s death. I should have listened to you, Rosie.” He frowned. “Maybe whoever snatched her is worried that Grace knows something about Ned’s death. Maybe something that even she doesn’t realise she knows. Some crucial clue.”

  “There’s something else,” said Rose, producing the envelope she found in the house in Shoreditch. “This connects Ned to a place called Easingford in Yorkshire and somebody named Oliver Dorset Woldingham.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Aurora. “Easingford was the name on a silver cup that I found in Lizzie’s box!”

  “The box that disappeared?” asked Thomas. He’d gone over to his bookshelves and seemed to be looking for something.

  Aurora nodded. “I didn’t take it, but it was my fault it got stolen. I left Lizzie’s trunk unlocked.” She blushed. “I’d pilfered Lizzie keys while she was drunk so I could take a look. I wanted to see if there was anything about my past in there. That’s where I saw the crest for Ivanhoe House too, and…” She paused.

  “Go on,” said Rose gently.

  “There were some letters in the trunk that made me think Lizzie is a blackmailer. And that she’s been doing it for years.”

  Rose was frowning again. “This is getting more and more confusing. We already know that Effie knew Grace from Shoreditch, and that she has some connection with that lowlife Josiah Pinch.”

  Thomas peered over his glasses. “Any news of little Effie?”

  Rose and Aurora shook their heads. Rose hoped that Effie was all right, but the fact she hadn’t returned to Campion’s fed her suspicions about the girl, whether she’d helped them escape from Josiah or not.

  “Let’s go over what we know,” she suggested. “So, Lizzie Gawkin has some link with Easingford. So there’s a possibility that Josiah, Effie and Lizzie could all be in league with each other.

  “We also know from the envelope I discovered that Ned had a correspondence with the parson at Easingford, Oliver Dorset Woldingham. Given the ‘Dorset’ in his name, do you think that he could be Ned’s father? And see here: there are some names written in Ned’s hand on the envelope.”

  She pushed the envelope towards Aurora, who examined it and then looked up at Rose with a frown.

  “Why’s your name here?”

  Rose shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I don’t know who Bess Jingle or Eliza Chowser are either.”

  Thomas suddenly gave a little cry of triumph and came back to the table with a book in his hand. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to one of the pages. “Easingford is a small village in Yorkshire that forms part of a big estate belonging to the Easingford family. They own everything for miles around, including a large house, Easingford Hall. The family crest is a butterfly. The family motto is By all means necessary. Henry Edgar Easingford is the current lord. He had a twin brother, older by a few minutes, called Frederick Edward Easingford who died thirty-two years ago. Aha! Listen to this – Frederick Easingford was married to a Lily Clara Dorset.”

  “Dorset!” said Rose. “Just like Ned, and the parson who wrote the letter.”

  Everyone looked very alert.

  “But,” continued Thomas, “they’d only been married for three months when he died.”

  “So his younger twin, Henry, inherited the title?” asked Aurora.

  “Not immediately,” said Thomas. “It seems Lily was pregnant when her husband died. Six months later she gave birth to a son, Edward Frederick Dorset Easingford. Looking at the dates here, both mother and son died on the day of the child’s birth. If the child had survived, he would have been the current Lord Easingford. But instead, his uncle Henry inherited everything.”

  Thomas gave a little whistle, while everyone tried to absorb this information.

  “Blow me if Henry doesn’t then go and marry another Dorset girl, Sarah Charlotte.” He ran his finger down the page. “She was Lily’s younger sister and according to the dates she was barely seventeen when they got married. She had Lord Henry Easingford’s only child a year later, a son named Edgar Easingford.”

  “It’s all very interesting, but I don’t see how this helps us,” said Aurora. “Except that there must be some connection between Ned and the Dorset sisters and the parson, and if we could find out what it is it may help.”

  “It’s all we have to go on. If only we could talk to Grace. She always said there was something mysterious about Ned’s background. Maybe she just didn’t think it was relevant to his death,” said Rose. “Sometimes you can know something, but you just don’t realise its significance.”

  “I’m going to write to Oliver Dorset Woldingham,” said Thomas, “and hope that he can shed some light on the situation. In the meantime, we have to do our best to keep little Freddie safe and find out what has happened to his poor mother. I only wish I knew how we are ever going to get proof that she’s locked up in Ivanhoe House.”

  “I know how we could!” said Rose suddenly, bobbing up and down in excitement. “You’re going to hate the idea, Thomas, but you won’t talk me out of it.”

  Rose and Aurora waved goodbye to Lottie, Jem and the last stragglers who had been drinking after the show. Rose heard Jem trying to persuade Lottie to lend him sixpence for a tip he had for a big horse race tomorrow. Their voices faded, and Rose eased the bolt across the Campion’s door. They had twice been round the building to check that every door and window was secure. O’Leary was already snoring under the stage where he always slept. The children were about to go upstairs when Rose put a finger to her lips. “I think I heard something outside,” she whispered.

  The girls listened hard. The gate gave its distinctive squeak. Rose picked up a chair and held it over her head while Aurora pulled the newly oiled bolt back silently. Aurora flung the door open and the girls came face to face with Effie. Startled, Rose dropped the chair she was holding with a crash. “Just bringing your bicycle back,” Effie whispered.

  “Are you all right?” Aurora asked her.

  Effie glanced at Rose. “I owe you an explanation.”

  “You do,” said Rose with a touch of chill in her voice. She saw Effie flinch and she thawed. “But we also owe you for helping to save Freddie. You’d better come in.”

  Effie crept into Campion’s and Aurora secured the door again, after first sticking her head out into the yard to check Effie was alone. The children settled in the ballet girls’ dressing room, and Rose got straight down to business.

  “So,” she said sternly. “How do you know Josiah Pinch?”

  “He used to work for the rent collector over Shoreditch way. He put the frighteners on me mum and me when we fell behind with the rent.”

  “Shoreditch!�
� said Rose. “So he could have known Ned and Grace?”

  Effie frowned. “Maybe, but I don’t think so. It was Lizzie Gawkin he was asking about. He only got interested in them when I mentioned a man called Ned Dorset had been murdered recently.”

  Rose and Aurora looked at each other excitedly. The Dorset connection again!

  “When he cornered me this morning,” said Effie, “he was grilling me about Grace and Freddie. Got really angry when I said I didn’t know no more about them. It’s why I headed Shoreditch way on the bicycle. I heard Grace telling Thomas she was going to Shoreditch. I reckoned she and Freddie might need help.”

  Rose looked thoughtful. “Why was he so interested in Lizzie Gawkin?”

  Effie shrugged. “Dunno, really. He asked me to get hold of a silver cup and blue ribbon that he said she had.”

  “And did you?”

  Effie bit her lip. “Yes and no. I … I … stole the box from her trunk. It was easy; she’d left it open. Soon as I took it, I knew it was a mistake and I wanted to put it back, but before I got the chance Lizzie found it was gone. But I was going to, cross me heart.”

  “Did you give it to Josiah?”

  “No.”

  “So have you still got it?” asked Rose urgently. She felt sure the box contained the answers to all their questions.

  “I know where it is,” said Effie. “I put it in the props room in the trunk with loads of panto stuff in it. I didn’t think anyone would notice it there.”

  The children looked at each other and immediately rushed to the props room.

  “That one,” said Effie, pointing to the trunk with “Aladdin” stencilled on the top. They rummaged around inside but although there were several boxes covered in paste jewels, Lizzie’s box was nowhere to be seen.

  “Are you sure you put it in this trunk?” asked Rose sharply.

  “Yes,” said Effie helplessly. “I know it was that one. I put Aurora’s shawl on top. I … I know I did.” Her lip was trembling. “Somebody must have taken it.” She looked up at their sceptical faces. They didn’t believe her.