The Esther & Jack Enright Box Set

by David Field

  ‘What, on a mere constable’s wage?’ Jack chortled back. ‘I’d need to be a sergeant at least before I could think of even broaching the subject.’

  ‘By which time someone else might have swept her up,’ Percy replied. ‘I married your Aunt Beattie when I was only a constable and she won’t wait for ever — not a beautiful young thing like that.’

  ‘But then there’s Mother,’ Jack objected as they crossed Montague Road and entered Osbourne Street.

  ‘Leave your mother to me,’ Percy replied with a grin. ‘I think, to judge by her latest letter, that she’s very pleased that you’ve finally found someone to make you happy. She was beginning to wonder about you.’

  ‘Wonder what?’

  ‘Never you mind. But Constance has always judged people by what they are and not who they are. Esther’s a very honest upright young lady who just happens to be living in reduced circumstances.’

  ‘Too reduced for Mother to approve, surely?’

  ‘Your mother’s very particular, Jack, but she’s no snob. So why don’t you take Esther back to Barking next Sunday and I’ll invite myself up as well? Beattie’s off to her sister’s in Clacton for some sea air to clear her lungs and I haven’t had a decent meal for days.’

  ‘At least we’ll be getting out of this awful place for a few hours,’ Jack observed as they dodged between the wagons in order to cross Whitechapel Road.

  ‘The awful place in which you hope to make it to sergeant, you mean?’ Percy teased him as he joined him on the far pavement.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘We need to find this maniac without delay,’ Abberline insisted as he sat with Edmund Reid and Percy Enright in Reid’s office, considering their next move. They had flooded the area with extra men, and there was hardly a street corner or alleyway entrance in the whole of Whitechapel and Spitalfields that didn’t have a police officer standing with a whistle, lantern and truncheon from dusk until dawn, but the people were still demanding that the person responsible for the outrages be identified and removed from the streets.

  The atmosphere in those streets was so fearful and poisonous that the mere suggestion that some innocent passer-by fitted the general description of the lunatic still at large was likely to result in him being either torn apart by the mob, or strung up from a lamp post by locally self-appointed vigilantes. Also under suspicion were Jews of any age or gender, anyone such as a cobbler or slaughterman who worked with knives and even ‘toffs’ who occasionally put in an appearance from the safety of a cab.

  The impetus for this urgent meeting was another postcard from the man calling himself ‘Jack the Ripper’ that had been sent to the Central News Agency the day after ‘the double event’. In it, the writer had made reference to the fact that he had just carried out what he called a ‘double event’ and that ‘number one squealed a bit couldn’t finish straight off, had not the time to get ears for police.’

  ‘Do you believe it’s genuine?’ Reid enquired. ‘Or did some joker have access to an early edition of the papers?’

  ‘Use your brains, Edmund,’ Abberline demanded. ‘He could have learned about “the double event” that way, but how was he to know that he hadn’t managed to get the ears that he promised to send us on his next job? Catherine Eddowes had part of one ear cut off, as if he’d at least tried, but been disturbed, perhaps by the City bobby who found the body.’

  ‘Is the handwriting the same on both letters?’ Percy enquired.

  ‘Apparently,’ Abberline replied.

  ‘So what do you suggest we do next?’ Reid enquired in a tone of impending defeat.

  ‘You’re the local man — any brilliant ideas?’ Abberline challenged him.

  Percy thought for a moment before making his own suggestion. ‘Most importantly, we have to be seen to be doing something. Constable Enright mentioned that there may be some link with a doss house in George Yard, whose Superintendent Reid hauled in here and grilled, with no outcome.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Reid growled, ‘a woman called Ada Bushell, who seemed highly amused by the prospect of being done for “living off”. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to run her in for anything we can stick on her.’

  ‘What’s this got to do with our Ripper?’ Abberline grumbled.

  ‘We don’t know unless we probe deeper, do we?’ Reid countered. ‘There was a murder in there a few weeks back, which I believe was the start of the slashings conducted by this monster and since then we’ve managed to connect the remaining victims with the same doss house.’

  ‘Even this latest one?’

  ‘The Mitre Square one, anyway. There’s believed to be an abortion factory conducted in George Yard Buildings and from what Sergeant Enright here was able to discover, Catherine Eddowes was acting as some sort of pimp or agent for the woman we believe to be the abortionist.’

  ‘It was my nephew Jack who got us that information — don’t forget him,’ Percy reminded the other two.

  ‘We’re not likely to while you’re around,’ Reid grumbled.

  ‘What about the first murder?’ Abberline enquired. ‘The one before Catherine Eddowes — the one that was interrupted, before he went on to the second one.’

  ‘We don’t know for certain that the murders occurred in that order,’ Reid objected. ‘This latest letter from the lunatic calling himself “Jack the Ripper” referred to the attempt to remove Catherine Eddowes’ ears as “number one”. We only know the times when the bodies were discovered; for all we know, the City bobby missed Eddowes’ corpse the first or second time round the block. Or perhaps he wasn’t patrolling his beat at all — just lounging in a doorway, having a smoke.’

  ‘I hope you don’t suggest that to anyone outside this room,’ Abberline warned him. ‘We’re having a hard enough job getting their co-operation as it is. But we’re getting away from the original point; what do you have in mind regarding this abortion place you mentioned? And you didn’t answer my question about any link between the victim Stride and that place.’

  ‘None at all that we know of at this stage,’ Reid admitted. ‘But so far as concerns the room in George Yard, we did manage to get out of Ada Bushell the fact that the rent’s paid monthly in advance, on the same day each month, by someone she described as “a military type of gent”. Coincidentally, a guardsman was suspected of that first murder, on the first floor landing in there.’

  ‘Did this Ada woman say on what day of the month the rent was paid?’ Enright enquired, his face alight with interest.

  ‘The seventh, from memory,’ Reid replied, ‘but I can always check back through my notes. Why?’

  Enright and Abberline exchanged looks and it was Abberline who spoke for them both. ‘If I understand where Percy’s thoughts are leading, we could try a stake-out on rent day.’

  ‘I hardly think that anyone engaged in criminal activity in that yard is likely to turn up to make a rental payment when the place is crawling with uniformed police,’ Reid objected.

  ‘Precisely,’ Abberline agreed, ‘but at the Yard we regularly engage in this sort of “under-cover” activity, as we call it. How do you think we busted that network of thieves in the Albert Dock a few months ago? Or that arsonist in Highgate? We used our own men, in plain clothes of course, posing as anything other than police officers. In the docks take-down they’d been working as wharfingers for several weeks and in the Highgate case they posed as various types of street vendor.’

  ‘We’re not that far behind the times down here in the slums,’ Reid protested. ‘We often catch pickpockets by mingling with large crowds dressed in our ordinary clothes.’

  ‘Then you get the general idea,’ Abberline pointed out. ‘Since Percy here has more regular experience of how it’s done, we’ll leave it to him. On the seventh, which is less than a week away, he takes a team of your constables, dressed in mufti, into this yard and they wait for the military gentleman to pay his rent, then haul him in and tip him upside down for information.’
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br />   ‘I imagine that one of the constables he wishes to take will be his own nephew?’ Reid enquired sarcastically.

  Percy nodded. ‘And not just him. His lady friend as well, if she’s agreeable.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘This is turnin’ inter a regular police station an’ no mistake,’ Sadie Thompson complained as Percy, Jack and Esther sat around the small kitchen table at 19 George Street that somehow seemed too prosaic for the plan they were hatching.

  ‘This is police business, missus,’ Percy advised her. ‘Haven’t you got any housework you could be getting on with?’

  ‘Are you suggestin’ that this ’ouse is filthy?’ Sadie demanded, hand on hips. ‘If so, I’ll ’ave yer know that there’s a waitin’ list fer a room in ’ere.’

  ‘And we’re waiting to make use of this room on official police business,’ Percy insisted.

  Sadie flounced out, leaving Esther to make tea, while Percy resumed the conversation with Jack that had been interrupted by Sadie’s expressions of disapproval.

  ‘You and your fellow constables hang around the entrance to the Yard, dressed in your everyday clothes rather than your police uniforms, posing as hawkers or costermongers, or whatever. It shouldn’t be difficult to spot a military man among the riff-raff that normally congregate in places like that and when you spot him, you hang on to him and one of you comes inside the public house next door — what’s it called again? — and alerts me. I’ll do the arrest and then we hand him over to Inspector Reid.’

  ‘Why do you need Esther?’ Jack enquired.

  ‘I was about to ask the same question,’ Esther added, as she placed the cups down on the table. ‘Do you want me to pose as a flower seller or something?’

  ‘No,’ Percy replied with a smile. ‘I want you inside the pub with me. I’ll be less conspicuous as a man enjoying a quiet drink with his daughter and once I get the tip-off that our quarry’s been apprehended, you can come home.’

  ‘I don’t want her exposed to any danger,’ Jack insisted.

  ‘Very touching and gallant,’ Esther replied somewhat sourly, ‘but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

  ‘When was the last pub fight you were in?’ Jack countered and Esther wrinkled her face in displeasure.

  ‘There’ll be none of that,’ Percy advised them both, ‘and there’ll be plenty of bobbies around to break up any violent reaction to the arrest. We’ll do it in the Yard itself, so as to reduce the size of the audience. First sign of a police presence and in my experience they’ll scatter.’

  Two days later Percy and Esther made their way into the snug bar of the White Hart, where Percy ordered two glasses of beer. The two women who sat in the corner, clearly hoping for early customers to judge by their loud clothing, looked disapprovingly at the potential competition from Esther before they concluded, by means of exchanged whispers, that she already had her ‘fancy man’ for the day.

  ‘What shall we talk about?’ Esther enquired nervously.

  ‘The one thing we have in common, at this stage,’ Percy replied. ‘Jack.’

  ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d rather talk about,’ Esther beamed back. ‘Does he really like me, do you think?’

  ‘I think it goes deeper than that,’ Percy replied. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you to marry him.’

  Esther blushed and giggled at the same time, before her gaze dropped down to the table at which they were seated. ‘That’s rather leaping ahead, isn’t it? We’ve never even begun to discuss that sort of thing and then there’s his mother …’

  ‘You needn’t worry about her being a snob or anything,’ Percy reassured her. ‘Once she’s satisfied that you’re right for Jack, she wouldn’t care if you did sell flowers in the street, like you suggested as your pose today.’

  ‘Jack says we’re all going out to Barking again on Sunday. Is that right?’

  ‘I’ll certainly be going — and for lunch, what’s more. The family cook does a wonderful Sunday roast and my wife’s away at the moment. I never learned to cook, so it’s chop house meals for me at the moment. If this stake-out goes on for too long, we might try one of those pies I saw on the counter out in the public bar there.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll catch this army type?’ she enquired.

  ‘Who knows? It’s got to be worth a try, though, since there’s definitely some funny business going on in that place, according to Inspector Reid.’

  ‘You knew that my friend died in there?’ Esther enquired. ‘Martha Turner?’

  ‘She was the first Ripper victim, according to the Inspector. But Inspector Abberline’s not convinced. What are you staring at? If it’s a military type, don’t stare and give the game away.’ Percy had seen Esther’s eyes widen and as she looked hastily down at the table in discomfort and revulsion, he asked, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Over at the other table. The big woman who’s just joined those two totties who’re obviously on the lookout for marks — it’s Pearly Poll. Don’t look round.’

  Percy chuckled. ‘You’re talking to an experienced undercover police detective, remember? And don’t you display any surprise at what I do next.’ Without further warning, he took Esther’s hand in his, leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘I’m going outside to see if there’s been any action,’ he whispered while their faces were still close together. ‘Does that side door to this bar lead directly into the Yard?’

  ‘No idea,’ Esther whispered back, ‘but it’s the door Pearly Poll came through.’

  ‘Just wait here until I return,’ Percy instructed her as he stood up and walked to the door, openly leering at Poll’s two companions on his way out. He was no sooner out of the door than Poll came across the room and sat down in the seat he’d just vacated.

  ‘That yer fancy man?’ she enquired.

  Esther blushed and looked down at the table. ‘And what if he is?’ she enquired.

  ‘Just make sure yer don’t charge ’im less than ten bob, if ’e wants yer fer the day,’ Poll advised her. ‘An’ if yer doin’ it casual, like me two friends over there, make sure that yer charges at least a bob a knob. Two bob lyin’ down. Make the best money while yer still young an’ fresh an’ if yer lookin’ ter make a regular livin’ that way, I can put yer in the way o’ regular business any time yer likes — I’m always in ’ere fer the night trade.’

  Out in the alleyway, Percy Enright took out his purse, extracted a few coins and walked casually up to the boy shining shoes to one side of the narrow passageway. As he became the last one waiting, he put one of his boots onto the raised box and enquired, ‘No sign of him yet? ’

  ‘No,’ Jack replied. ‘But Pearly Poll went in and out a few minutes ago, then she went into the pub next door.’

  ‘She’s in the snug,’ Percy advised him. ‘I’d better get back in there and keep an eye on your intended. Where are the others?’

  ‘Constable Preedy’s lying further up there, mumbling nonsense and pretending to be drunk. Constable Draycott’s selling bootlaces near the front entrance to the White Hart and Constable Shanahan’s the one cleaning that side window to the lodging house, for the first time in years to judge by the look of it.’

  ‘Keep me posted,’ Percy requested, then moved back into the snug bar. Pearly Poll vacated his seat with a curt, ‘bin keepin’ it warm fer yer,’ and rejoined her companions in the corner, seating herself so that she could keep an eye on Esther and Percy.

  ‘Poll thinks you’re my gentleman friend,’ Esther smiled up at him in what she hoped was a ‘come on’ look designed to dispel any suspicions that Poll might be entertaining. ‘How’s it going outside?’

  ‘No sign of anyone except Pearly Poll, who went in and out of the doss house, according to Jack.’

  ‘Maybe she was paying the rent on behalf of the military man.’

  ‘I’m about to get up and leave and I suggest that you follow shortly after me, looking as much as you’re capable like a prostitute following
her mark out to the designated place of assignation. I think we’re done here for the day.’

  ‘I’m not about to leave just yet,’ Esther replied conspiratorially. ‘I’m beginning to get the taste for this police undercover work. What was the name of that woman Jack was telling me about — the one who may have made use of Pearly Poll’s abortion service?’

  ‘He was supposed to keep that information strictly for police officers,’ Percy grumbled, as he thought back for a moment, before his trained memory kicked in. ‘Kelly. Mary Kelly, why?’

  ‘I think I can get you the evidence you need about Poll and her abortion business.’

  ‘I don’t know what you have in mind, but for God’s sake be careful.’

  Percy wandered off via the public bar with the slight suggestion of a drunken stagger.

  Esther waited for a few more minutes, during which she fidgeted with a handkerchief which she took from the sleeve of her jacket and when she could tell with her lowered glance that she had Poll’s full attention, she stifled a sob that a Drury Lane actress would have been proud of. Poll eased her bulk off her seat and wandered over.

  ‘What’s the matter, lovey? ’As yer fancy man left yer in the lurch?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ Esther replied while feigning the choking back of a further sob. ‘He’s a married man and now that I’m in the family way he wants to stay with his wife. He’s offered me ten pounds to get rid of the child inside me and I was too shy to ask you earlier if you’d be prepared to help me until I knew how much I could offer you.’

  ‘What makes yer think I could ’elp yer?’ Poll demanded.

  ‘A woman I met at the market up near where I live. Mary Kelly? She told me that a woman called Pearly Poll could see me right, but she didn’t know how much you’d require.’

  ‘Mary Kelly, eh?’ Poll replied. ‘She the one what lives in a doss in Dorset Street?’

  ‘No idea,’ Esther replied. ‘I just met her in Spitalfields Market when I took a giddy turn and she came to my assistance. Can you help me, for ten pounds?’