Round Freddy stood at the entrance to the narrow alley off Dudley Street, staring into the gloom created by the adjacent buildings. The smell of rotting garbage and sewage wafted out and stung his nostrils. Turning back toward the street he motioned for the constables to draw nearer. As they did, he hitched up his trousers around his considerable stomach.
“Men, I know we have run through this exercise once today to no avail at St. Philip’s vicarage. But put that visit out of your mind. This is the place where we must be at our best.”
He pointed down the alley. “Down there, inside of number three on the right, is a man who would do us harm. His name is Fletcher and he has killed once already. Fletcher is armed with a double gun, so this is no time to be a hero. I would dearly like to capture the man alive, but if it comes down to a choice of him or one of us, don’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”
Round Freddy looked each man in the eye in turn. “Any questions? Good. Sergeant Wills, take two men with revolvers and four other constables. Please secure the rear of the building. I shall give you five minutes to get in place.”
After Wills and the other constables left, Round Freddy studied the men in front of him.
“You four in the back, I want you to seal off both ends of this alley. The two of you with Webley revolvers, stay next to me on the way into the house. The rest of you, follow inside behind us. Got it?”
A murmur of assent went through the crowd of constables.
Round Freddy squeezed down the alleyway, stepping over dingy piles of material that he preferred not to think about. After thirty feet, the alley widened into a miniscule courtyard that had four doors fronting onto it.
“That one,” he said, stepping toward a weather-beaten wooden door. “The vicar said second on the right.” Round Freddy eased up against the door frame and checked the men behind him. Then he slowly grasped the door latch and moved it upward. To his surprise, it moved freely. He leaned against the door and it swung open slightly. It wasn’t even locked.
He twitched his head toward the door and the two constables with the revolvers went through one after the other, their Webleys held high, pointing toward the ceiling. Round Freddy followed them and halted inside the front room. It was empty.
The far wall held a plank wooden door that looked as if it had been built for a barn but installed here. Round Freddy tried the latch and pushed against the door, but it didn’t budge.
“Who’s there? Is that ye, Snow?” The voice was muffled through the thick door.
Round Freddy stood to the side of the doorway and raised his voice. “Mr. Fletcher. It is Sergeant Hume of the Hull Police come to pay a call on you. Would you unbolt the door for us?”
“Ye can bloody well bugger off. I ain’t opening no door.”
“Mr. Fletcher, I suggest you have a peek out the rear of the building. You will see that we have stationed constables in the rear garden, so you have no chance of escape in that direction. The only way out is through this locked door. Please consider the situation and unbolt the door.”
“I has a gun in here. There’s no way ye’ll get through that door alive.”
Round Freddy raised his eyebrows and looked at the constables behind him. “We are well aware of your twelve bore, Mr. Fletcher. Nevertheless, we do not think that you actually want to use it, for if you do, it means the end for you. My men will show you no mercy. They will shoot you down like a rabid dog.”
“Well, woof, woof, to ye then. I shan’t be unbolting the door. Me and Snow’s mum will sit in here, right comfortable.”
Round Freddy stepped back and ran his hand down over his face. Why hadn’t he considered the possibility that Fletcher would have another hostage? After all, he held the reverend and his housekeeper hostage. And the housekeeper had said Fletcher threatened to harm them, so there was no doubting what he might do with Snow’s mother.
Round Freddy needed time to think. He wanted to develop a plan to deal with Fletcher. He leaned toward the door. “Sit tight, Mr. Fletcher. We shall not trouble you at the moment. However, we will still be right outside in case you’d like to give up.”
“Tain’t no chance of that,” came the reply through the door.
“I didn’t think there was,” Round Freddy mumbled to himself as he stepped out into the courtyard. “Not a hope.”
•••••••
The Dealer had done it to him again, Lund thought, only this time instead of meeting south of the river along the railway, he had to meet the man in front of the White Cross Mill on the Haxby Road, near the York Union Workhouse. As he trudged past Clarence Gardens he reviewed why he was taking this chance.
The detective sergeant had already instructed him how to proceed in order to trap the Dealer. Lund didn’t want to go along with what they wanted, but what choice did he have. They had enough evidence to put him in gaol for too many years. His only recourse was to cooperate with them and they promised to be lenient for his part in the embezzlement, especially if the money were returned to Jane Waddington.
Of course, the police wanted the Dealer to reveal his part in hiding the money that Lund embezzled so they could put the arm on him too. Lund had no quarrel with the Dealer being arrested. But something in the way the Dealer treated him ate at the back of his mind. Lund had decided that he would make an example of the Dealer first, and then set him up for the police. He owed it to himself to set things straight.
As he passed the football ground, Lund noticed a small knot of young men milling around the end of the pitch. He quickly ducked behind thick bushes at the side of the road and continued parallel to the road until he had left the noisy group behind. Just past Fountayne Street, he turned down a narrow lane and slowed his pace, studying the buildings that lined the road. Within a minute he was in front of the White Cross Mill, but could find no sign of the Dealer.
Grumbling to himself, Lund shuffled around the east side of the mill, running his hand along the rough stone as he turned the corner and nearly bumped into the Dealer, who stood a few feet out from the building with his hands on his hips.
“Mr. Lund. What a pleasure to see you.” The Dealer tipped a silver flask up to his lips and drank deeply. He capped the flask and put it in an inside coat pocket. “Tell me, my good man, what kind of investment did you want to discuss with me?”
Lund was startled by the Dealer’s sudden appearance and struggled to set his mind in order. “I – I- I wanted to commit more funds to your expertise,” he said, sidling away from the building and toward the open space at the rear of the mill. “I have some more money to place into properties.”
“Do you now? Perhaps you can tell me where a man of your limited means would get more money, more than you already have entrusted to me, to invest?” The Dealer still stood with his hands on his hips, staring intently at Lund. “And perhaps you have this money with you now?”
Lund hesitated too long and knew the Dealer had caught him in a lie. “Well, I am not prepared at the moment, that is, I do not have the funds on my person right now . . . .”
“What is it you want from me?” The Dealer stepped closer to Lund, putting his face into a shaft of light that glinted off his teeth.
“Only the usual services.”
The Dealer cocked his head. “And what might those be, eh, Mr. Lund?”
Lund stepped back so he wasn’t so close to the Dealer. “Why safe yet unnoticed investments, I should think.”
The Dealer smiled and spread his palms outward. “Mr. Lund, I am unaware of what you had in mind here tonight, but I can tell you that I am sorely disappointed in you. I have a strong suspicion that you have something nefarious in mind for me.”
“N – n – nefarious? Me? That is absurd.”
“Absurd it may be and yet I think you have something else in mind other than more investments.” The Dealer looked left and right before continuing. “Let’s set this straight, eh. In terms of the commissions that I was going to charge you on the prior purchases, consider the
m wiped out.”
“You mean that, sir/” Lund said, grabbing a handful of the Dealer’s coat. “Really?”
The Dealer pulled Lund’s fingers from around the folds of his coat. “Yes, I mean what I say. I have now applied a second commission in place of the first, this one double the first. The commission is due in a week.”
“But that is a huge amount of money to pay for your services.”
The Dealer smiled. “Nevertheless, it is what you shall pay in order to have my protection. I expect to hear from you within the week, Mr. Lund.”
With that the Dealer turned and disappeared around the corner of the building.
When Lund peered around the corner, he saw the Dealer fading into the darkness of the lane to Haxby Road.
•••••••
Round Freddy stopped pacing as a stout constable with a shock of red hair sticking out from under his cap skidded to a halt in front of him. The man wiped a ribbon of sweat from his brow and saluted.
“No need for that right now, Collins. What is it?”
“There’s a man out on Dudley Street who says he lives here in number three. Wants to get into his house.”
“The man’s name?”
“Says it’s Snow, sir.”
“Bring him along.”
When the constable herded Snow in front of Round Freddy, the man stood looking from the detective to the door of his house and back.
“Mr. Snow, I shall require your attention on me. I have questions for you.”
“Snow. It’s only Snow.”
“Very well, then. Snow. Are you acquainted with a Mr. Fletcher?”
Snow rubbed his chin and knitted his brows as if in thought. “Well, I knows a Fletcher, and he’s a man, so I suppose we could call him mister.”
“I assume that is a ‘yes?””
Snow bobbed his head.
“Do you have any idea why he might want to hold your mum hostage in your house?”
Snow started toward the house door, but Round Freddy put out a thick arm and restrained him.
“Fletcher’s a madman,” Snow blurted. “He killed that woman and now he’ll kill me mum.”
Round Freddy grabbed Snow’s shoulders and shook him until he looked him in the eye.
“We will not let any harm come to your mum. But you must tell me what you know about Fletcher and the woman he killed.”
Snow hung his head and tears tracked down his cheeks. “I told him I didn’t want to hurt anybody.”
Round Freddy took Snow’s elbow and led him to a corner of the courtyard where they talked quietly for several minutes. When they returned to the center of the courtyard, Round Freddy motioned to the two constables with the revolvers.
“I would like you to accompany me and Snow into the building where he will attempt to convince Mr. Fletcher to release his mum. Are you willing to volunteer to do so?”
Both agreed.
“Right. Let’s go then.”
Inside, standing at the side of the door, Round Freddy cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Mr. Fletcher. I have someone with me who would like a word with you. He will speak to you now.”
Round Freddy nodded to Snow.
“Fletcher, it’s me, Snow.” He waited, but there was no response. “Fletcher, you have me mum in there with you. You don’t need her and I don’t want her in there. Let her go.”
Round Freddy thought the ensuing silence meant that Fletcher would not consider the approach, but then he heard the man responding.
“Snow, is that really ye out there?”
“Aye, Fletcher, it is me.”
“Snow, it pains me to have your mum in here with me and with the coppers out there, but that is the way it has turned out.”
Snow drew a deep breath. “The coppers tell me that if ye let me mum go, they won’t break through the door while she’s coming out. They say that letting me mum out is good will for you.”
There was another lengthy silence and Round Freddy nodded to Snow to show his encouragement of what he had done. Just as Round Freddy thought that Fletcher was going to refuse the offer, Fletcher called out.
“Snow. Ye’ve been a good partner to work with. I has no business with your mum. I’ll let her out the back.”
Round Freddy interrupted quickly. “Mr. Fletcher, please give us a few moments to alert the constables in the rear that Snow’s mum is to be released. We do not want any mishaps to occur, do we?”
“Mishaps is me middle name, copper. But I’ll wait on ye.”
Round Freddy detailed a constable to advise Sergeant Wills at the back of the house of the situation, and as soon as he had gone, called out to Fletcher again.
“Mr. Fletcher, you are not planning to do anything foolish with that double when the door is opened, are you?”
He could hear Fletcher’s laugh through the door. “Worried about me, are ye? Don’t worry. I shall let the woman go.”
Within three minutes a constable returned from the rear of the house and said that Snow’s mother had been released unharmed and that the back door had been bolted again. Round Freddy again approached the door.
“Mr. Fletcher, we thank you for your consideration in releasing Snow’s mum. Now we must speak about how we can resolve this situation. I think the best thing that you can do for yourself is to lay down that double gun, unbolt the two doors, and come out with your hands raised.”
Round Freddy heard the loud laugh first and then the growl.
“Ye have Snow’s mum so she will not be on me conscience. But ye shall not have me. At least not while I’m breathing.”
Round Freddy heaved a sigh and turned back toward the courtyard. The days were getting longer and longer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Night had fallen and Round Freddy still had not coaxed Fletcher out of Snow’s back room. The detective had spent the better part of the day talking to a wooden door and listening to Fletcher’s taunting responses from the other side. At one point, mental fatigue took hold and Round Freddy was on the brink of ordering the criminal burned out of the house. But before he could get the words to shift from his brain to his mouth, he pushed the urge back down and willed it to go away and not return.
Needing a breath of air, he stepped into the small courtyard and joined a group of constables jawboning in a corner. Someone from the police station had brought apple cider for the men to drink, and they stood there, holding Army-issue tin cups of cider, looking expectantly at him. Sergeant Wills, who apparently was taking a break from his duties at the rear of the house, raised his eyebrows and asked, “What news, sir? What’s our next move?”
Round Freddy accepted a cup of cider from a young constable and raised the tin cup to the men. “Cheers,” he said, and downed a large gulp of the sweet liquid. He smacked his lips and smiled. “Bigod, you men know how to live on the job, and here’s to you.” He raised the cup and drank again. When he lowered the cup, he caught the sergeant’s eye and nodded toward the opposite corner.
When they were away from the other constables, Round Freddy leaned close to Wills, his voice hardly above a loud whisper.
“I am concerned that Fletcher might feel that enough time has passed for him to make a move on us.”
Wills shook his head slowly. “You may be right, sir. The buggar has had enough time to think about the situation, sitting in there all day with that bloody shotgun.”
“Aye, that is exactly what worries me, sergeant. The 12 bore. But we have to do something to get the man out of that room. We can’t simply wait for him to come out shooting.”
“Are you thinking of going in after him?”
“That I am, but I can’t order unarmed constables to go after an armed man.”
“But we have four constables with revolvers, and I have a Webley too. That’s five revolvers to one shotgun.”
“Are you saying you think it is a wise move to break in on the man and take him?”
“I cannot tell you it’s wise, sir. I can only say
the men are getting tired and restless. We should end this soon.”
Round Freddy leaned back against the wall of the house and pulled a hand across his mouth. “The men are for taking him, then?”
“Aye, sir. Ready and raring to go.”
“Right, then. Tell me what you think of this. You take the two armed constables at the rear and create a diversion. Make a racket as if you are trying to force the door. When I hear you begin the diversion, I shall give Fletcher enough time to react to you, and then break down the front door with my two armed constables and take the man.”
Wills nodded and looked Round Freddy in the eye. “Aye, sir. It’s the best we have right now.”
Round Freddy pushed away from the wall and strode toward the door to Snow’s house. “Let’s do it, then.”
As Wills disappeared down the alley on his way to the rear of the house, Round Freddy pulled the two armed constables aside and told them of the plan. Sergeant Wills was right, he thought. They’re raring to go.
The three of them assembled in the front room, backed up by three other constables crowding around the main door. Round Freddy held his finger to his lips and then turned to speak to the door.
“Mr. Fletcher. May I speak with you for a moment?”
Round Freddy could hear the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor as Fletcher shifted his position.
“What do ye want now?”
“I should like to discuss the possibility of releasing you from your forced confinement again.”
As Round Freddy finished speaking, he heard the sound of muffled pounding coming from the room beyond, obviously the handiwork of Sergeant Wills and his men.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Fletcher said at the sound of someone moving toward the back of the room.
That was all Round Freddy needed to hear. He motioned to the constables at the main doorway and two of them came running into the room and crashed against the bolted door, pulling its hinges from the doorframe and splintering the wood. The door and the two constables fell to the floor in the room. As they did, the two armed constables stepped into the room on either side of the door, their pistols raised. Round Freddy stepped into the center of the doorway.
Asylum Lane: from the Victorian Carriage mystery series Page 14
