The Mangle Street Murders Part 19

*Your purse, Miss Middleton.' He handed it back to me. *The filthy little tyke nearly made off with it.'

*I did not even notice it had gone.' The purse had been opened but nothing was missing.

*They are professionals, these rascals,' he told me. *They could have your boots off your feet before you knew it but did I not warn you, when we first met, to be careful in London?'

*Of horses, with which I am very familiar, and foreigners, a variety of whom I have lived amongst for much of my life. You said nothing about children.'

Inspector Pound laughed and his usually sombre face brightened.

*If I were to warn you about every possible peril on the streets of this maze of vice, I should be lecturing you for years. May I take your arm, Miss Middleton?'

*It is nice to be in the company of a gentleman,' I said as he escorted me out of the crowd.

*My mother was not rich but she taught me my manners.'

*Mr Grice mentioned his mother this morning,' I said as a mule went by, pulling a wheeled sledge laden with building rubble.

*It is difficult to imagine him having a mother.' Inspector Pound grinned. *But by all accounts he is devoted to her.' He pulled me back from the edge a little. *And she to him, though I gather she never quite recovered from the shame of bringing a cripple into the world.'

*That is not fair,' I said. *He may limp quite badly but he is hardly a cripple.'

*Why, even with his specially cobbled boots his right leg is several inches shorter than the left,' Inspector Pound said as we crossed the road. *Legend has it that, whilst she was carrying him, Mr Grice's mother was terrified by a lobster falling from a pa.s.sing fishmonger's tray into her lap, and lobsters, as you may be aware, have one leg very much longer than the other... It is no laughing matter, Miss Middleton.'

I put my hand over my mouth. *You cannot believe that.'

*I most certainly do.' The inspector coloured a little. *Why, there is a man by the name of John Merrick who makes a considerable living touring the country in sideshows. His mother was frightened by an escaped elephant whilst carrying him and he was born with a number of its characteristics. His head is enormous and misshapen. His nose forms the beginnings of a trunk. His hands and limbs are swollen and malformed. His skin is thick and lies in great grey folds and he even lumbers like a jungle beast. I have seen him myself and he is no forgery.'

*Well, Mr Grice certainly has a thick sh.e.l.l,' I said and Inspector Pound laughed.

We walked round four girls sifting through a pile of rubbish.

*May I enquire where you are heading for?' Inspector Pound asked.

I told him and he said, *Well, what a coincidence. I am headed there myself.'

*Are you interested in painting?'

*I have never really thought about it, but a friend gave me a ticket and I thought I might take a look. We can cut through here.' He guided me down a side street. *Never come along here at night, Miss Middleton. They call it Cut Throat Alley, but it is as safe as anywhere during the day. I trust Mr Grice's face is healing well.' The inspector chuckled. *That is the first time I have seen anyone, let alone a woman, get the better of him.'

*Have you known him for very long?' I asked.

*About five years now.' A large grey cat came cantering by. *He's a strange one but he does get results. I should probably have let that Ashby fellow go, if it were not for Mr Grice's help. How did you come under his care?'

I gave Inspector Pound a brief account of my history and he looked at me seriously and said, *Then we have something in common. I lost both my parents before I was twelve years old and I was taken in by my uncle, who was a Robin.'

*A what?'

*It is what people called the mounted Bow Street Runners because they wore red waistcoats. It was he who guided me to my career.'

We walked on in silence and the alley narrowed again so that we were obliged to walk very close unless the inspector let go of my arm, and he showed no sign of doing that.

The alley widened out into a little square.

*Here we are.'

The exhibition was disappointing. Mr Rossetti's women all had small heads and green-tinted faces, large shoulders and necks like pillars.

The inspector did not stay long. He had work to do but would put me in a cab first. I told him not to trouble himself but he was insistent.

*And what of you?' he asked as we parted. *You are quite a remarkable young lady. There are experienced men in my force who could not enter the mortuary as I hear you did.'

*It is the living who frighten me,' I said. *There is nothing to fear from the dead.'

*Then you shall have nothing to fear from William Ashby soon,' the inspector said, *for he is to hang on Friday.'

*So soon?'

Inspector Pound shrugged. *You have seen some of the unrest for yourself. The sooner he is out of the way, the better. I for one shall not be sorry to see justice being done.'

*You will be there?'

Inspector Pound smiled and said, *Wouldn't miss it for the world.'

He shut the door and the hansom set off, but I stopped it round the corner and walked.

There was a jewellery shop set back a little from the road. I stood for a while outside the window.

I had not had time to hang the ring around my neck. We had twelve patients to deal with and two of them needed amputations. I think it was while I was holding a corporal's leg down that I cracked the stone.

*Blast the man to h.e.l.l,' you said when I showed you. *I paid two months' salary for that ring and it turns out to be a fake and the blighter has disappeared. I am sorry, March. I shall save up to buy you another one.'

*No,' I said. *This is my engagement ring. Any other, no matter what it cost, would be a fake.'

You kissed me.

*I did not think that I could love you more,' you said.

25.

Sticks and Stones It was Thursday. I was in a hurry to get out that morning because I had run out of cigarettes and there is something about tobacco which I find almost addictive.

*March,' my guardian called as I scooted past his open study door, *come and take a look at this.'

He was standing behind his desk with a top hat in front of him and a sheaf of papers in his hand. *What do you make of this?'

I glanced down. *It is a hat.'

*Not just any old hat,' he said. *My hat.'

*Congratulations.' I was hungry for a smoke.

*What else is it?' He hopped from one foot to the other.

*A dromedary,' I guessed.

*Now you are being foolish. This,' he rotated it, *is my latest invention a the Grice Patent Tea-maker.'

*And I thought it was a hat.'

*It is,' he said, *and an excellent one at that. Note the subtly widened rim, designed to keep the sun out of one's eye in the summer and waxed to keep the rain off one's nose in the winter. See,' he flipped the hat upside down, *how this black silk lining unb.u.t.tons to reveal compartments containing tea leaves, a box of vestas, a spoon, a strainer and a telescopic cup. Observe how this spirit lamp hinges down below the top compartment, a can of water. Everything a gentleman might need for that perfect emergency cup of tea.'

*Will it brew up whilst you are wearing it?' I asked, and Molly came in with the morning papers on a silver tray. She put it down and bobbed awkwardly.

*What are you doing?' Sidney Grice demanded.

*Curtsying, sir. Maude who lives in at number 112 told me they do it all the time there.'

The doorbell rang.

*It makes you look like a jackdaw.'

Molly grinned. *Why, thank you, sir.'

*Door,' my guardian said and Molly looked blank. *Answer the door,' he said.

Molly obediently left, then returned, crossing her legs in a jerky dip. *Inspector Pound, sir.'

The inspector muttered a few pleasantries but he was clearly worried.

*You have not read the papers yet, Mr Grice?'

*No. Molly was delayed in ironing them. Apparently cook caught her hair alight.'

*Is she all right?' I asked and he shrugged.

*I expect luncheon will be delayed.'

*I had a visit from Father Brewster yesterday morning,' Inspector Pound said.

The two men sat and I pulled up a chair. Sidney Grice tilted his head quizzically.

*And?'

*He told me that Sir Randolph had called on him the night before.'

*And?'

*Sir Randolph had something on his conscience. He made a confession that so disturbed Father Brewster that he persuaded Sir Randolph to repeat the information to him outside of the confession where it would not be sacrosanct.'

*And this information was?' My guardian made no attempt to cover his yawn.

Inspector Pound hesitated. *He claims that you told him what to say in the witness box and paid him handsomely to do so, including putting him up in the Midlands Grand Hotel.'

Sidney Grice waved his hand airily. *Stuff and nonsense.'

*But you admitted that you coached him,' I said and my guardian inhaled sharply.

*I merely helped him to organize his testimony,' he said.

*So you gave him no money?' I asked and my guardian stiffened.

*I was not aware that I was in the dock.'

*Not yet, at any rate,' the inspector murmured.

*I bought Sir Randolph a suit and paid for him to have a shave and haircut so that he would be a more presentable witness.'

*And the hotel?' Inspector Pound asked quietly.

*I put him up there for the night before the trial because I know the concierge. He arranged for a man to stay with Sir Randolph and make sure he turned up at court on time and sober. That is all.'

*That is not what the press are saying,' the inspector said, and I picked up The Times.

It was still warm and the front page, as always, was taken up by advertis.e.m.e.nts, but inside there was a grainy photograph of my guardian and another of Father Brewster, and a headline which proclaimed Priest Speaks Out Against Private Detective.

*Let me see.' My guardian s.n.a.t.c.hed the paper and his face reddened. *How many times? I am a personal detective.' He slapped the paper on to his desk and bent over it. *That d.a.m.ned whey-faced puppy in a frock has been using his filthy pulpit to repeat his allegations. I shall go to his church this very Sunday and thrash him before his own congregation.'

*They are more likely to thrash you,' I said.

People were shouting on the street.

*I shall sue. I shall have him behind bars for criminal slander.' He took the paper in both hands and ripped it in two, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the halves up and throwing them in the direction of the fire on to the floor.