by Anna King
‘Oh, Gawd, Sadie, love. Yer’ll never guess what’s ’appened. Poor Lil’s been done in, an’ little Charlie’s been bashed round the ’ead an’ all. And we can’t find your Molly, she…’
Sadie pushed the woman aside, her heart thumping with fear. With Ted behind her, she pulled at the people swarming around the door of the first-floor flat, then stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that confronted her. With a muffled scream she leapt forward.
‘Lil! Lil! Oh, God! Please… please, don’t be dead…’ Dropping to her knees, she gently cradled her friend’s head in her lap. ‘Come on, Lil, mate. It’s me, Sadie. Come on, yer silly cow, stop pissing about… Lil… Lil…’
Her vision blurred as tears rained down her face, then two small bodies were tugging at her, their childish shrills of fear penetrating Sadie’s own grief. Her arms going out automatically she pulled the two stricken boys to her, holding them tightly against her heaving chest.
Over all the din came the sound of police whistles, and someone in the crowd shouted that the ambulance cart was on the way, but to the deeply shocked Sadie, the sounds all seemed to blur together in a confusion of unintelligible noises. Raising her head she looked over the boys’ heads and saw Ted Parker staring down at her. Then he too seemed to jump and dance before her eyes. Holding Billy and Charlie tight, she lowered her gaze and gently rocked the two youngsters back and forth, not knowing if she was comforting them or herself in the instinctive gesture.
There was a question she wanted to ask the boys, a question that was screaming around inside her head, but couldn’t bring herself to say the words, for fear of what the answer might be.
Clutching the boys tight, her eyes clouded over as she looked around the familiar faces. Some she only knew by sight, others she didn’t recognise, but the only face she wanted to see, longed to see, wasn’t there.
Chapter Twenty
‘I don’t bloody well believe it. I mean, how the fucking hell can anyone just walk in off the street and stab a woman, a pregnant woman at that, knock one kid unconscious and make off with another one in broad daylight, and no one see anything? I could understand it if it had happened at night, but Gawd Almighty, in the middle of the day? And where’s all the nosy neighbours when yer need them?’ Ted stormed. ‘That bloke must lead a charmed life, that’s all I can say… Bastard!’
‘Calm down, Ted. We’re doing everything we can…’
‘Oh, yeah. Like what?’ Ted cut in angrily. ‘Yer said the same thing when the kid first went missing, an’ yer’ve done bleeding sod all, as far as I can see.’
The policeman’s mouth tightened. ‘Now that’s enough, Ted. I know you’re upset so I’ll let that slide. But you know full bloody well me and the rest of the nick have been working our bloody guts out trying to find that kid. And we’re not getting paid any overtime for it, either.’
Ted stared back into the angry face and let his gaze drop. Shaking his head from side to side he nipped on his bottom lip before replying quietly, ‘Yeah, I know, Officer, I know.’ Running a hand through his thick hair he said, ‘But I was so close. So bloody close. If I’d only been ten minutes earlier I might have been in time to stop that maniac. Then Molly would be where she belongs, with her brother, and that poor cow wouldn’t’ve been knifed, an’…’
The constable laid a comforting hand on Ted’s shoulder. ‘I understand, mate… It’s a right bloody mess, ain’t it?’
John Smith sighed tiredly. Since the Masters girl had gone missing he’d hardly had a decent night’s sleep. Added to his daily workload he’d taken Agnes Handly under his wing as well. The other men had laughed at him, saying they’d begrudge looking after that old trout in the line of work, but to waste his own time? Well, they’d said, rather him than them. But the seasoned policeman had just smiled and carried on with his work quietly, refusing to be drawn into any conflict with his colleagues. And even if they didn’t understand, or share his ideals, they respected the bulky man and kept their counsel.
Now, as of one-thirty this afternoon, 27 May 1898, the whole of the Metropolitan Police force was on full alert. There was no talk about overtime now, paid or otherwise. There was a madman on the loose, but the criminal they were looking for was far worse than any madman, for this particular one was a child molester, the lowest of the low. A man who brought shame on his own sex, for no one was more reviled than a man who sought out innocent children to pander to his sick, perverted sexual desires, and the sooner he was caught and locked up the better for every decent person alive. Every policeman in London was drafted onto the streets, knocking on doors, pulling in every pervert known to them. But all to no avail. A couple of Sadie North’s neighbours had come forward giving a description of the smartly dressed man seen entering Lily Knight’s flat, but apart from that, they had no more information to give. Now, two hours later, the entire police force were out pounding the streets looking for the man known as Kenneth Stokes, alias Wells, and his accomplice, Agnes Handly. John Smith had tried to tell his superiors that Agnes Handly was as much a victim as anyone, but no one would listen, and the constable knew better than to pursue that line. Though it would have been helpful if he could find Agnes. She might know more than she thought, but, like the elusive Stokes, Agnes was nowhere to be found. Though not for a second did John Smith imagine she was with the man they sought. For he firmly believed that unfortunate wretch was more sinned against than sinning.
‘Look, I’m sorry, mate.’ Ted was talking again, his face tired and drawn, more from worry than lack of sleep. Also he was experiencing a great feeling of deflation. As he had said to the policeman, he’d been so near to finding Micky’s sister. He remembered the journey to Sadie North’s home, and how he had imagined seeing Micky’s face when he returned his sister to him. Never for a moment had Ted envisaged the horrific scene that had greeted him instead. The woman, Lily Knight, was now in hospital fighting for her life, unaware her baby, brought into the world prematurely by the vicious attack on its mother, was dead. Sadie North was at her friend’s bedside with the two Knight boys whom she had taken under her wing for the time being.
Then there was Micky.
Micky, once so full of life, so full of hope for the future, even nursing a crush on Ellen, and thinking nobody noticed. Now he was over at the bakery, crying his eyes out in her arms. In his hour of need he had reverted to childhood and in Ellen he saw only a mother figure, someone to cling to. She was the first person he had asked for when Ted had returned with his grim news. Ted had been apprehensive about taking the boy over to the bakery, but Arthur, give him his due, had welcomed Micky in with open arms, even offering to keep him for as long as he wanted to stay. And that had been suspicious in itself. But any business he had with Arthur and Ellen would have to wait for now. They had a lifetime in front of them – unlike Micky’s sister if they didn’t find her soon. He knew the police were doing everything they could but he was still angry at the lack of progress and despite his better judgement he couldn’t resist having another dig.
‘I ain’t ’aving a go at you, Johnny, but it doesn’t look as if the rest of the law’s exactly breaking its neck trying ter find the kid. I mean, like I said before, I could understand him getting away if it’d been night, but how the ’ell could he walk the streets with the kid without someone noticing? He must ’ave taken a cab. If I was a copper, that would ’ave been the first thing I’d’ve done – question the cab drivers. Or maybe he had a carriage waiting? But however he got away he had ter be out on the streets for a while, and the kid would’ve called fer help, wouldn’t she?’
Like Ted, the constable was also tired and frustrated and his patience, held under control through years of experience, finally snapped.
‘Now you listen to me, mouth almighty. You haven’t got a clue about what’s going on. And I don’t have to justify myself or the rest of the force to you or anyone else, but I will anyway, if only to shut you up. For your information almost every man wearing a uniform has a daughter or
niece and they’d be on the warpath even if they weren’t officers of the law. That’s what’s the matter with people like you. You seem to think policemen are a breed apart from the rest of the human race. Well, they’re not. They’re just like any other man, with feelings and anger. They cry and laugh just like you, but because they wear a uniform people imagine they’re above human feelings. And another thing, don’t call me Johnny. It’s “Officer” to you, mate. As it happens we’ve already spoken to most of the cab drivers near the location of the flats, and one of the drivers remembers a man carrying a little girl. He thought she was asleep. As for her calling out? Huh! You don’t know anything about children either, do you? Just imagine if you were eight years old and had just seen a friend stabbed and covered in blood. It must have been like a nightmare to her. Then the man she’s petrified of is suddenly there. Do you really think she’d have called for help? She must have been terrified of making a sound in case the man hurt her. Though the poor little cow didn’t even have the choice, seeing as she was unconscious. One more crack about the police and you’ll feel the weight of my hand, no matter how big you are. And it won’t be the first time, will it?’
At the sudden change in the constable’s voice Ted jumped. Then, as long-ago memories resurfaced he smiled sheepishly. ‘Yeah, I remember.’ His lean frame relaxed for the first time that afternoon. ‘How old was I? Twelve, thirteen? You caught me nicking an apple off a fruit stall up Mare Street. I didn’t even ’ave a chance ter take a bite outta it, did I? Gawd, but yer gave me a fright when you grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. I’d already had a good look up and down the road before I got up the nerve to pinch that apple, an’ I didn’t see you. And when you suddenly appeared, I thought you was some sort of magician. I can still see it now. All me mates were watching, ’cos they’d dared me to do it, but they soon legged it when you showed up. But I knew wherever they was hiding they’d still be watching, so I put on a front, pretending I wasn’t scared. Gawd! I was so cocky, wasn’t I? Giving you a load of lip, till yer grabbed me by the ear and marched me down the length of the market. Then yer asked if I’d rather ’ave a clip round the ear, or be taken ’ome to me mum an’ tell her what I’d done. Well! I didn’t ’ave much of a choice, did I? ’Cos I was more frightened of me mum than you. Then I spotted me mates hiding behind the wall of the church. Well! I couldn’t let them see how scared I was, so I put on me swagger and told you to go ahead and clout me.’ As the memory became clearer Ted slapped his knee in mirth. ‘I didn’t know what’d hit me. I thought me head was gonna fall off. I wasn’t so cocky then, was I? That clout sent me crosseyed and bandy-legged. Me eyes were rolling, I could’ve sworn I heard bells ringing, an’ I staggered ’ome looking and walking like a half wit with me mates following ’aving a good laugh at my expense.’
As the memory came flooding back Ted threw back his head and laughed uproariously.
Listening to Ted’s infectious laughter John felt his own lips beginning to twitch and within seconds the two men were rolling with mirth. It was just what they both needed after the trauma of the last couple of hours. They were still laughing when a loud knock interrupted their merriment. Immediately the laughter stopped as if turned off by a tap. Exchanging apprehensive glances the constable was the first to move. Throwing the front door open he saw two of his colleagues standing on the doorstep.
‘Well, what’s happened?’ he said over-loudly, his nerves causing a hardness in his voice.
The elder of the policemen raised his eyebrows before answering. ‘We’ve got the cab driver that took a man and little girl to a house near Epping Forest. Inspector Lewis has already left, but we thought you deserved to know what’s happening, especially after all the hard work you’ve put into finding the kid.’
Standing behind John Smith Ted couldn’t help but notice the deference in the officer’s tone, nor the way both men were looking to the older policeman for guidance, even though they were all of the same rank.
His blunt features tight with repressed anger the constable cursed quietly. ‘Well, that’s no surprise, is it? It’s always the same. We work our arses off while he sits behind his desk shuffling papers, bawling out us lowly constables when things go wrong, but he’s first in the queue if there’s any glory to be had. Any excuse to get his picture in the papers, lazy bastard!’
Again the waiting officers exchanged startled glances. For as long as they’d known the middle-aged officer they had never even heard him raise his voice, let alone act in this manner. But if anything his outburst only increased their respect for voicing what the rest of the station thought of their inspector.
Reaching for his helmet from the hall table John said to Ted, ‘Looks like we’ve finally had some luck, and about time too. Let’s just hope it doesn’t turn out to be a wild goose chase. Anyway, I’ll let you know everything as soon as I get back.’
The words, although kindly spoken, were nonetheless a dismissal, and Ted wasn’t used to being treated in such a fashion. His lips tightening he retorted, ‘If yer think I’m just gonna wait here twiddling me thumbs when you know where that filthy swine is hiding, you’ve got another think coming. If yer won’t let me come with yer then I’ll find out where he is on me own.’
Knowing Ted wasn’t the type to make empty threats John sighed. Turning to the waiting two men he said, ‘Wait a minute, will you? I just want a quick word with Ted.’
Closing the door slightly so the curious men couldn’t overhear the conversation, he faced Ted squarely. ‘Look, mate, I understand how you must be feeling. There’s no one wants to catch that piece of vermin more than me, but I can’t let you come with us, you must know that. My inspector would have my head on a plate if I brought a civilian along with us.’
His face grim Ted reached behind the constable and threw the door wide open. ‘Don’t let me keep you, your mates are waiting fer you, and I’ve got business to see to meself.’
Knowing it was useless to argue further John Smith took his leave.
Within minutes Ted was striding down the street, making his way to the high street situated near the building where Sadie North lived. But once there he was bitterly disappointed, for the cabbie who had taken Stokes and Molly on their journey was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, angry, and reluctant to face Micky without some concrete news, Ted pounded the pavements for nearly half an hour before plucking up the courage to face the young man who had become so dear to him.
* * *
Arthur turned the closed sign on the bakery door, sighing with a mixture of tiredness and relief that another day of curious strangers and listening to sly innuendoes was over, at least until tomorrow, when the whole sordid experience would start all over again. And all because they were hoping to see the infamous Agnes Handly, supposed partner in crime of Kenneth Stokes. It made Arthur wonder at the stupidity of some people. Surely they realised Agnes wasn’t going to return to her job, not with the entire police force trying to track down her whereabouts. Then again, there was no accounting for people’s peculiarities. His only consolation was that today was early closing.
But his ordeal wasn’t over yet. He raised his eyes. There was a time, not so long ago, when this had been his favourite part of the day. Then he would climb the stairs, a smile on his face, to the rooms above to be greeted by a cheerful Ellen and a hot meal waiting for him. And as they ate he and Ellen would talk about the day’s events, with Ellen recounting some amusing tale concerning some of their more awkward customers. But not any longer. Oh, his dinner would still be waiting for him, but he would have to eat his meal alone, for Ellen no longer sat at the table with him. She was civil to him, as she would be to any stranger. There wasn’t even the opportunity to sit down to resolve their differences, no chance for him to try to explain what had made him act the way he had that night – not with Micky Masters temporarily in residence. Then there was Ted Parker dropping in at any hour of the day or night as if he owned the place.
Yet by far the worst part for Arthu
r was the way Ellen’s face lit up like a beacon whenever Ted walked into the room. And it wasn’t only Ellen who came to life on seeing Ted; Micky too would run to him, clinging onto the charismatic man, gathering strength from Ted’s presence, while he, Arthur was left alone and ignored as if he wasn’t even in the room. And each time Arthur witnessed the obvious attraction between his wife and the local market trader, a man half Arthur’s age, his stomach would churn with fear. He was living on a knife’s edge, expecting Ellen to announce she was leaving him, and there would be nothing he could do to stop her. But if it came to that, he wasn’t about to make it easy for her and Ted Parker. He’d never agree to a divorce.
Yet he remembered vividly that night when John Smith had deposited Agnes on him, and she’d confronted him about his relationship with Ellen, insinuating he was as bad as the man who had abducted Molly Masters. But the ultimate shame was finding Ellen and Ted standing in the doorway. Nor could he forget the triumphant, gloating look on Ted Parker’s face. If he’d been a man of Ted’s calibre he would have stood his ground and faced him down. But no, not him. Instead he had grabbed the whisky decanter and scuttled away like a frightened rabbit into the bedroom. Even with the door closed, he could hear Ted telling Ellen their marriage was a sham, and as he’d listened Arthur’s self-esteem had hit rock bottom. He’d felt like a nobody, somebody who was worthless, useless and practically non-existent.
He hadn’t planned what had happened that night. He had forced himself on Ellen. He still couldn’t comprehend how he could have committed such a despicable act. He’d wanted so badly to feel like a proper man, and also to make their marriage a proper one in every respect. Yet never in a million years would he have made love to Ellen if he hadn’t been so full of anger and drink. Even so, he’d hoped Ellen would forgive him eventually. But instead of putting a halt to the flourishing relationship between Ellen and Ted, he had driven her further into his rival’s arms.
