by Darrell Pitt
‘Then I hope you’ll help us,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘I will help you as I would help any citizen, but—correct me if I am wrong—you are not officially with Scotland Yard.’
‘I am not, but I assist them on an unofficial basis.’
‘And I’m sure you are very helpful,’ Ruiz said, smiling. ‘But we have our own ways of doing things here. We do not use “consulting detectives”. We look after matters ourselves.’
‘Then I hope you will help us as you would help any visitor to your country,’ Mr Doyle said. Without going into the details of their investigation, he explained that Jack and Scarlet had been kidnapped and taken to a house. ‘A crime has been committed and I hope you will investigate it.’
‘We will, senor,’ he said, frowning. ‘We take the kidnapping of children most seriously. Please give me the details.’
‘We’re not sure of the address,’ Jack said. ‘But we can take you there.’
Within minutes, Inspector Ruiz and three other officers had piled into a police van with Jack, Scarlet and Mr Doyle.
‘I think it was through here,’ Scarlet said as the steamcar cut through town.
‘No, it was down this street,’ Jack said.
‘Actually, I think it may have been…’
Finally they turned into a street with factories lining both sides. Jack pointed to a house at the end. ‘There!’ he said. ‘There it is!’
‘You’re right!’ Scarlet said. ‘That’s definitely the place.’
The van stopped and everyone climbed out. There was no movement in the house: the curtains were drawn closed.
‘This is it,’ Scarlet said. ‘I remember the roses at the front gate.’
‘You should tell your officers to be careful,’ Jack said to Inspector Ruiz. ‘These men had guns.’
Ruiz said something in Spanish to his men. Two remained at the bottom of the steps while they climbed to the front door. The inspector knocked. No sound came from within.
‘They’ve probably gone,’ Jack said. ‘After they tried to kill us—’
The door swung open, revealing an elderly lady. ‘Si?’ she said. ‘Te puedo ayudar?’
The inspector spoke to her for a moment. She frowned and shrugged, her brows creasing with confusion.
Ruiz turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘This is Senora Sanchez,’ he said. ‘She says she doesn’t know anything about any men with guns.’
‘What?’ Jack said. ‘She must be working with them!’
The conversation continued between Ruiz and the old lady. Then an elderly man appeared behind her. ‘May I help you?’ he asked, with only a trace of a Spanish accent. ‘Why are you here?’
‘You’re part of a criminal gang!’ Scarlet said.
The old man’s lips creased into a smile. ‘What is this?’ he asked. ‘Are you making a joke?’
‘If you’re not a criminal then you’ll let us search your house!’ Jack said.
Ruiz intervened. ‘These people are under no obligation to allow us inside,’ he said. ‘You must have the wrong house.’
‘You may enter,’ Senor Sanchez said, standing aside. ‘But you will find nothing.’
Jack stormed ahead. ‘There!’ he said. ‘That table was—’
He stopped. The building had been clean and bright before. Now it was old and dilapidated. The carpet was threadbare, the sideboard in the hallway faded and broken.
‘This is…this…’ Scarlet stopped in amazement. ‘It’s different.’
Jack pushed a door open. It had been stylishly decorated with a chandelier in the ceiling, nice walls and paintings, but now it was bare, the walls empty. A solitary table sat in the centre with two rickety chairs.
‘Are you sure this is the same house?’ Mr Doyle murmured to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Possibly you’ve mistaken it for a similar property.’
‘This is the house!’ Jack said. ‘And I can prove it!’ He marched down the hall to the door under the stairs. The others caught up with him as he swung it open. ‘I’ll show you exactly—’
Jack’s mouth fell open. There were no stairs. The stairway had been bricked up.
‘I…I don’t know how…’ Jack stuttered.
‘Why is this closed off?’ Scarlet demanded. ‘We know you’re hiding something—’
Inspector Ruiz ignored her, turning to Senor and Senora Sanchez. ‘I’m so sorry we have wasted your time,’ he said. ‘It seems our visitors are making a little joke. The British sense of humour is not like our own.’
He hustled them back to the street.
Mr Doyle tried to speak. ‘It’s obvious these people are part of a conspiracy,’ he said. ‘They have changed the house to put you off the scent.’
‘Part of a conspiracy?’ Ruiz looked at him as if he were quite mad. ‘That harmless old couple? If they’re criminals then I am…how do you say it…the King of England!’
The inspector ordered his men back to the truck. Mr Doyle, Jack and Scarlet tried to make him see reason, but he cut them off. ‘I trust you will not waste any more of my time,’ he said. ‘I am a busy man.’
‘We need to get back into town,’ Scarlet protested.
‘Catch a bus!’ Ruiz snapped, and the vehicle roared off.
‘Well,’ Mr Doyle said, taking a piece of cheese from his pocket, ‘that could have gone better.’
‘Those people are criminals!’ Jack said. ‘They’re working with Domina!’
‘Probably, but there would seem to be little we can do about it at the moment.’
Navigating their way back to a main road, Mr Doyle hailed a horse-driven carriage and climbed into the back. ‘This reminds me of a case I investigated involving a pile of hay, a pianist with no arms and a giraffe wearing a tuxedo—’
‘Sir!’
‘Oh yes. Back to the case at hand. I think we’ll make use of the most valuable tool at our disposal.’
‘Which is?’ Scarlet asked.
‘Our minds. We’ll go back to the hotel and plan our next move.’
The carriage weaved through the city streets. Finally they reached their hotel and went upstairs. Scarlet screwed up her nose.
‘Jack,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean to appear rude, but you may need to wash.’
‘I already showered today!’
Inside the room, there was a knock at the door. Mr Doyle answered it and returned with a note. ‘That was the concierge,’ he said. ‘A message has come from Scotland Yard. There seems to have been a breakthrough in the case. We will return to London at once.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘Home sweet home,’ Jack said.
After several days of travel, they had returned to London, and to 221 Bee Street. After everything they had been through, Jack found it comforting to be back in the clutter of Mr Doyle’s apartment.
As they walked through the door, Gloria handed a number of letters, except one, to Mr Doyle.
‘You’ve got mail,’ she told Jack and Scarlet.
‘Us?’ Scarlet said
.
‘It was hand-delivered.’
Jack scanned the message. ‘It’s from Toby in Whitechapel,’ he said. ‘He’s seen the monster again. And other people have too. A meeting’s being held to discuss what to do. He’s worried they may try to attack it.’
‘They can hardly attack a monster,’ Mr Doyle said, ‘when it doesn’t exist.’
‘I saw something in the sewer,’ Jack insisted.
‘We have to see Toby,’ Scarlet said. ‘He may need our help.’
‘As you see fit,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I will await news from Scotland Yard in the meantime.’
Jack and Scarlet were soon on a train heading across London. Jack peered through the window and caught sight of some faded VC graffiti on a building. He wondered if Mr Doyle was right about the Valkyrie Circle not knowing the identity of their leader. Possibly her name was only known to one or two people.
They alighted at Whitechapel Station and made their way to Toby’s home, a ramshackle terrace, sandwiched between two shops. Toby and his mother were just heading out the door.
‘Hello, you two,’ Sally said. ‘I’m glad you were able to come.’
Making their way through the winding streets, Toby barraged them with questions about their adventures. Recounting what they’d been through, Jack was careful not to mention the Valkyrie Circle.
Sally was amazed. ‘I had no idea such things went on in the world,’ she said. ‘I’ve barely been outside Whitechapel.’
‘We were concerned when we received Toby’s letter,’ Scarlet said.
‘Everyone’s talking about the monster,’ Sally said. ‘But most haven’t even seen it.’
‘The creature might be harmless,’ Jack said.
‘It’s not just the monster. Everyone’s on edge over these Valkyrie Circle bombings.’
Jack and Scarlet exchanged glances.
‘I remember now,’ Scarlet said. ‘Some of the bombs exploded around here, didn’t they?’
‘I was nearby when one of them went off,’ Sally said. ‘I’d gone out shopping when I heard an enormous bang from around the corner. There were people lying all over the road, injured and bleeding. Two people were killed.’ They had now arrived at a local hall. ‘There’s even a rumour that Lady Death might live in Whitechapel.’
‘Really?’ Jack said.
‘It’s just a rumour. The police raided a suffragette meeting here, but it turned out to be a bunch of young girls painting protest signs.’
There was standing room only in the hall. It looked like it had once been a church—it still had the original pews—but it now was used for public meetings. A tall man with greying hair stood in the middle of a small stage.
‘That’s Nicholas Thackeray,’ Sally said. ‘He owns the clothing factory where I work.’
‘He doesn’t look very friendly,’ Jack said.
‘He’s not. The only thing he cares about is money.’
‘Then why—’
‘Why is he here? I reckon he’s heard that people are staying away because of the monster and that affects his business.’
A man leant close to speak to Thackeray. He was short, fat and unshaven.
‘That’s Dan Beel,’ Sally said. ‘The factory foreman. He’s just as bad.’
Grabbing a place near the front, Jack spotted a tiny figure wedged between some men.
‘Granny Diamond!’ he said.
She greeted them. ‘I didn’t know you’d be able to take time off work,’ Granny said to Sally.
‘The factory’s closed for the afternoon. There are so many rumours floating around about the monster and the Valkyrie Circle that the delivery driver is refusing to pick up.’
A makeshift lectern was dragged onto the stage. Thackeray banged it with a hammer.
‘Thank you for coming here today,’ he said. ‘I know it hasn’t been easy.’
‘He’s right about that,’ Sally muttered. ‘It means I miss out on a day’s pay.’
‘Many of you have seen a creature haunting Whitechapel at night,’ Thackeray continued. ‘A huge, monstrous beast that threatens us and the lives of our families.’
Jack turned to Scarlet. ‘That’s not true,’ he whispered. ‘The monster hasn’t actually threatened anyone.’
‘Our businesses have already been under pressure,’ Thackeray continued. ‘Fewer people have been coming to Whitechapel since the bombings. Even less now that news has spread about the monster. It’s almost as bad as when the cholera went through.’
‘Cholera?’ Jack said.
Granny leant close. ‘It’s been mopped up,’ she said, ‘now the new sewer system is in. But people dropped like flies in the old days. The water was infected by tiny beasties.’
‘You mean bacteria,’ Jack said.
‘Call them what you like. They were killing a dozen people a day.’
Thackeray was raising his fist in anger now. ‘Whitechapel is on the verge of destruction,’ he said. ‘If visitors don’t come here, we can’t run our businesses. And that means no employment. We must hunt down the monster and kill it!’
Kill it! Jack thought. No!
‘It hasn’t hurt anyone!’ he yelled, before he knew what he was doing. A sea of heads turned to look at him. ‘Whatever it is—whoever it is—shouldn’t be treated like an animal.’
‘It’s only a matter of time before it kills someone!’ Thackeray snapped. ‘And we don’t need outsiders telling us our business!’
‘Sit down,’ Granny urged.
People in the audience started yelling at Jack. Scarlet stood up bravely next to him.
‘There are laws,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘You should go to the police—’
A man leapt to his feet. ‘The bobbies won’t do nothing for us,’ he said. ‘And we make our own rules!’
Something flew through the air—a shoe, as Jack realised later—and hit Scarlet in the face. She yelled out, more from surprise than pain. Jack tried to push through the crowd to her attacker. Someone swung at his face, but he ducked. Another person picked up a chair and hurled it, striking Granny Diamond across the head. She swooned.
People screamed, and more chairs were thrown. Within seconds, a full-scale riot had broken out.
Sally shepherded them towards the exit, protecting the semi-conscious Granny Diamond from the brawl.
Bursting into the open, Jack turned to Scarlet. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
Sally was tending to Granny Diamond, whose head was now bleeding.
‘Those fools,’ Granny growled. ‘They’re out of control.’
A chair smashed through the window onto the footpath. A distant police whistle sounded and a team of constables charged towards the building. At the same time, Thackeray and Beel burst onto the pavement and raced away down the street.
Cries were coming from inside the hall. ‘They’re more interested in fighting each other than doing anything constructive,’ Scarlet said.
‘But at least the monste
r is safe,’ Jack said. ‘For now.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘That’s outrageous!’ Ignatius Doyle said. ‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed.’
Jack tried to put the detective’s mind at ease. ‘We got out of there as quickly as we could,’ he said.
‘And Granny Diamond?’
‘She has a huge lump on her head,’ Scarlet said, ‘but she’ll be fine.’
‘Did you hear from Scotland Yard?’ Jack asked.
‘No,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘But I did receive a note from Edwina Dudley, asking us to attend a meeting of the Primrose Society.’
‘Why?’
‘They want me to speak about our investigation.’
‘I’m not sure we’ve really discovered very much.’
‘And I wouldn’t share what we’ve learnt. But I think she wants me to assure the group that someone associated with Scotland Yard is on their side.’
‘So you’ll attend?’ Scarlet said.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I’ve been a member of the Primrose Society for a number of years. It’s a peaceful organisation with no links to violent activists. Surely you’ll set them at ease?’
Mr Doyle let out a long breath. ‘All right, I will speak to them,’ he said.
Piling into the back of a steamcab, they headed across London.
‘Brinkie’s a member of several organisations,’ Scarlet said to Jack. ‘The Women’s Rights League, the Vegetarian Society and the Laughing Banana Club.’
‘The…?’ Jack stared at her. ‘Did you just say what I think you said?’
She nodded. ‘It’s more sensible than it sounds.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘I’ll explain. Science has shown that beneficial endorphins are released by the brain when a person laughs.’
