Entry #585539, added on 05-17-08 @ 6:35 am EDT
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| Chapter Thirty Two | Entry #585539 |
Chief Inspector John Stubbs was eager to get to work this morning. He had arrived back from Derbyshire yesterday and been on strictest orders to get some rest before returning to the station. Stubbs had protested but Superintendent Jennings had insisted. He reminded Stubbs again that it was this same eagerness that was going to get him into trouble if he wasn't careful.
"You have a wife and young child John," he had said, "Never get your priorities confused. Family first, remember that." A nice sentiment Stubbs had thought, but after all that he had been through recently he needed some answers and it appeared that Jennings was going to make him wait. So Stubbs had tried to forget as best he could and enjoy an evening with his family. He knew himself that he had been neglecting Jane and little Danny for a while now; work always seemed to distract him. The recent events had done little to change that fact. Stubbs now had personal interests in the case though, what with the mysterious murder of his old friend Professor Halloran, then the business with the asylum, and now the possible things that Jennings was hinting at. Stubbs had never been so deeply attached to an investigation, and although he tried his best to be the father and husband he was slowly forgetting to be, Stubbs couldn't clear his head of the prospect of the following day. So at first light he was up, dressed and on his way to the Police station before anyone else had even stirred. 'Maybe now things will begin to fall into place' thought Stubbs as he began to jog down the street from his house towards the early meandering coaches.
The London night streets had been a bitterly cold and damp place to be and two people knew that well. Henry and Thomas had remained in the makeshift shelter of some crates and tarpaulin, huddled together to warm themselves. Thomas had told his story in the detail that had imprinted itself upon his mind. The fear, the suspicion, the feeling of powerlessness and hatred, all poured out. Importantly not having the strength to find a voice or act. For a long time he had held all this in, and now this lonely stranger had become his confidant. Henry had listened with a rising disgust building within. He had seen and indeed done his share of nasty things, some of which he had regretted and some of which he had revelled in, but never to a child. Even he had boundaries. Maybe the abuse he had suffered as a child by his own father had enforced that morality upon him, because he would never wish even half of what he and his brother had experienced upon another. This young boy's words struck Henrys heart, and he could feel his hatred of this man, this so called father, growing ever more. But when Thomas finally revealed the identity of his father, Henrys hatred deepened still. Thomas had soon fallen asleep in Henrys arms, and he had held him tight in return. Henry hadn't slept, his mind raced with visions of his own childhood and then inevitably turned to plans of retribution, for Thomas and for himself. Though he knew the line between retribution and hatred was blurred one. The night had gone before long, and mornings early light found the two figures still huddled closely together. When Thomas awoke he smiled up at Henry before they both stood and gathered their bearings.
"Come on" Henry said to the young boy, "We got something to do."
The boy didn't even question Henry and they both walked into the still empty streets. They walked together, staying close to the shadows and side streets, the young boy not knowing where he was being taken. Along the way Henry reassured Thomas again and stressed the importance of what he now had to do. But when the boy again questioned what was being proposed Henry stopped them and pulled Thomas into an alley.
Henry gave Thomas a long and warming hug.
"Now you remember what I told you? Tell 'em everything, it is for the best, trust me."
"But why can't you come with me?"
"I told you, cause I can't. You're gonna have to do this on your own."
"But what about father? He might be in there?"
"Look son, you're father's a bad man. Now bad men get whats coming to 'em. So you ain't got nothing to be afraid of."
Thomas's eyes were red from the tears he had cried most of the night. Still seeing the fear in the young boy's eyes, Henry smiled down at Thomas and put a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.
"Now you listen to old Henry 'ere. Ain't nothin' but good gonna come from this. People needs to know, and unfortunately I don't have much sway around 'ere. People tend not to wanna listen to what I gotta say. But you, well they'll listen to you."
"But you said you'd sort it out?"
At this Henry knelt down to get to the boy's eye level. He placed his other hand upon Thomas's other shoulder.
"And I will. You ain't never gonna 'ave to be afraid of your father again. But I needs you to go and tell your story, just likes you told me but to them policemen." Henry pointed into the distance towards the Police station. "Now I remembers your address like you told me, an' I'm gonna pay your father a visit."
"Thomas!"
A friendly voice called out to the boy from a passing coach. Both Thomas and Henry looked up to see a uniformed man staring at them from the window of the carriage. The man banged his fist upon the roof of the cab to signal the driver.
"Stop driver!"
The carriage promptly came to a halt. Stubbs opened the cab door and jumped down into the street and over to Thomas and Henry. Henry let go of Thomas and moved back from him.
"Thomas! What are you doing here? Are you alright?" Stubbs asked the boy, his eyes darting between him and the stranger. Henry, feeling the uncomfortable tension, interjected.
"The young boy 'ere has had a right shocker of a night he has. Run away from home and justly so."
"Excuse me." Stubbs interrupted, "Who exactly are you?"
"Oh just a lowly labourer Guv, down on his luck, no-one of consequence. Luckily though around when young Thomas 'ere needed a shoulder."
Stubbs put his hands upon the boy's arms. "Thomas has this man hurt you?"
"Hold on a minute!" Henry retaliated at the accusation. Stubbs looked at Henry and firmly spoke,
"You, Quiet!" Henry backed down. "So Thomas, don't be scared, you can talk to me. Has this man hurt you?"
The boy shook his head. "No, Henry looked after me."
Stubbs continued his questioning.
"Thomas why aren't you at home?"
The boy didn't answer. He looked over to Henry.
"It's ok son, you can tell the officer. Tell him just like you told me."
Stubbs glanced over to Henry then back to Thomas.
"Come on Thomas let's get you to the station. We can have a nice cup of tea and you can tell me all about it."
The boy again looked over to Henry whom smiled back.
"It's ok son, you go with him. Tell him everything."
Stubbs pushed Thomas towards the waiting carriage.
"Yes thank you. You can go now, he'll be fine."
Henry stepped towards Stubbs whom positioned himself in front of Thomas.
"You listen well to the boy 'cause he's got a tale that'll open yer eyes."
"Yes, yes. He'll be fine, now I suggest you move along."
Henry stared at Stubbs seeing suspicion in his eyes.
"Aye!" Henry stepped back.
"Henry! Henry! Don't go" Thomas ran from behind Stubbs towards Henry just to be grabbed by Stubbs and held back.
"Henry you promised you'd sort everything?"
"And I will son, I will. Don't you worry. Now you go with the officer and you'll be safe."
Stubbs dragged Thomas back to the carriage and lifted him inside. Thomas seated himself but continued to look out of the carriage window. Stubbs climbed up as well and sat opposite the boy, shutting the cab door on the way. With a swift knock on the ceiling, the carriage driver knew to leave and instantly got the horses moving. As the carriage disappeared amongst the traffic, Henry backed away into the shadows again. He removed a tarnished and battered pocket watch from his waistcoat. He looked at the time then replaced it.
"I'd best get a move on."
Twenty five minutes later Stubbs was flicking through his morning correspondence whilst sipping on his first cup of tea of the day. Thomas sat in one of the sparsely decorated interview rooms talking to Constable Dillon. It wasn't long before Dillon emerged from the room quite flustered and wide eyed. He went straight to Stubbs' office and without even knocking, walked straight in and over to the Chief Inspector.
"Chief you ain't never gonna believe what the Jennings boy's just told me!"
Henry stood down an alley in Portabello, an area he sometimes frequented yet avoided spending too long as within those streets lurked the true underbelly of London. The rapers of rapists, the murderers of murderers, the only true justice. Wise people never hung around too long just in case they inadvertently became entangled in things they didn't want to. One of the most influential and well connected men in these streets was a man named Foster. A despicable man, but very powerful. Once a disgraced court judge, he now resided amongst brutish thugs that he used to serve his own special kind of justice. Justice that Foster had felt lacked the modern judicial system. Much of the rioting in London at the time was deemed mindless vigilantism, when in actual fact it was mostly well orchestrated. Amongst Foster and several other underground figures, the London riots were specifically planned for various political and social reasons. It was this man that Henry had decided to visit. The information he now held was of the sort Foster would revel in.
Henry firmly knocked upon the side door of a book shop. Instantly a small shutter opened in the door and a pair of suspicious eyes peered down at Henry. The voice that bellowed out wasn't enticing.
"What the fuck do you want?"
Henry stood his ground and answered back in an equally aggressive tone;
"I need to speak to Foster; got somethin' he's gonna wanna hear!"
The eyes continued to stare at Henry for a few moments more before glancing from left to right, then the small shutter snapped closed. Henry waited patiently, not entirely sure whether the doorman was going to return or whether his entry had been denied there and then. He stepped forward to knock again when he could hear various hefty locks being drawn back. The door opened and the doorman appeared. Henry stepped back. The doorman was a massive hulk of a man. As broad as the door he stood guard over. A big thuggish appearance, covered in scars and a nose that had obviously been broken, many times. He raised an accusing finger towards Henry.
"You weren't gonna knock twice were you? Old 'enry wouldn't dream of disrespecting Foster by knocking twice?"
"Of course not."
"Cause I would have had to kill you where you stood for that alone."
Henry didn't flinch.
"No, of course not. I just need to speak to Foster."
"Come on then. He's waiting for you."
It was little after noon when whilst reading through Thomas Jennings' statement for the fourth time in disbelief, Stubbs's attention had been drawn to frantic shouting from the station foyer.
"What the Hell's going on now?" Stubbs shouted as he burst out from his office.
"Riots again Chief! Down on Cherry Tree!" One of the numerous constables shouted back as he fought with others to collect his belongings.
"Cherry Tree! But that's just two streets away!"
Stubbs threw the statement back towards his desk before joining the jostling policemen. Soon He was armed and on the perimeter of the huge mob that had gathered on Cherry Tree Lane.
Stubbs and a handful of other officers pushed their way into and through the throbbing crowds as they hustled and jostled. The sway of bodies was like nothing Stubbs had ever seen. His experience of riots was not extensive but he had done his fair share of crowd control. There was something unusual about this gathering though. The aggression and focus of the crowd was not the usual chaotic confusion, but appeared to be swathed towards one goal. Stubbs continued to scramble his way and then finally broke through, all be it momentarily.
From thirty yards Stubbs could clearly see what was causing the commotion. A length of rope was thread up and over a street lamp.
"Oh shit." The words fell from Stubbs's mouth.
Still barely struggling to survive was the shaking form of Superintendent Jennings. The rope around his neck restricting every breath. His fingers were frantically clawing at the noose around his neck, but clearly he had already expended the majority of his fight. His legs were just shivering as they hung from his body. Jennings gasped and choked, his face was a dark burgundy flush. Then the struggling stopped. The crowd erupted into a chorus of applause and laughter. Jennings's arms dropped to his side and he dangled from the lamppost like a pheasant on a hunter's porch. Blood dribbled from his mouth and from his bulbous eyes that looked as though they may have popped out at any moment.
Stubbs found himself struggling for breath as he fought with what he had just seen. His head began to swim full of confusion and horror. As he stood staring at the body of his superior hanging limply from the lamppost not even thirty yards from him, a multitude of thoughts collided in his mind. Then Stubbs noticed a small placard hanging from around Jennings's neck. He hadn't noticed it before because in Jennings's attempt to free himself against the noose, his arms had obstructed it. Stubbs continued to venture forward against the crowd, pushing himself closer to the corpse. He pushed and jostled until he was close enough to make out what the placard read;
'PERVERT'
Instantly Thomas's story came back into Stubbs' mind. 'Surely not?' he thought. 'The terrible things that Thomas had said about his father. Surely that couldn't be true?'
The thought made Stubbs suddenly queasy. He put a hand to his head and stumbled back with the flow of the crowd. Turning away from the Superintendent, Stubbs began to stagger back through the mob, as he pushed through his head was filled with the screams of laughter and the cheers and claps of victory.
The sound of dogs barking pierced Stubbs head and made him flinch. He turned back for a last look at his disgraced superior only to see the body being lowered towards a sea of clubs, broken bottles and various other makeshift weapons that were being held, raised in the air. It seemed everyone had brought something to express their hatred of his man's actions. Stubbs pushed still further away from the crowd as a wave of weapons came crashing down upon the superintendents body. There was a thunderous eruption of thuds of flesh and cracking of bones.
Stubbs finally emerged from the throng of the crowd. He wandered across the road and sat down upon the steps of a fishmonger. He sat for a few moments with his head in his hands trying to block out the constant roar of voices. He looked back up at the crowd still trying to digest the day's revelations.
From out of the crowd Stubbs recognised a face. The face of a man backing out of the riotous mob. It was the man he had seen earlier that morning with Thomas near the Police Station. Stubbs instantly got a suspicious nagging feeling in his stomach. Stubbs rarely ignored these feelings, in the past his intuition had served him well. But as soon as he stood to approach the man, he caught sight of him and the man began to quickly hobble off down a side street. Stubbs instantly took chase.
"Wait!" He shouted, but his voice was barely audible over the roar of the excited crowd.
By the time Stubbs reached the side street, he just caught a glimpse of the man climbing up into a carriage.
"Stop! I need to talk to you!" Stubbs called out again hopelessly. He began to run down the street towards the carriage only to see it speed off away from him. Once Stubbs emerged into the main street he immediately began shouting down another carriage as it passed by. The coach driver brought the carriage to a halt and Stubbs pulled open the door and jumped in.
"Where to Guv?" Called back the driver. Stubbs leaned out of the carriage window and shouted back whilst pointing ahead towards the other coach.
"Follow that carriage!"
"What?"
"Goddamn it man! Follow that carriage, it's Police business! But keep your distance."
The coach driver was quite taken aback by the abruptness of his reply.
"Aye aye Sir." He whipped his leash and soon the carriage was speeding through the London streets. Stubbs continued to lean dangerously out of the cab window keeping a keen eye on the carriage in front, being sure to yell directions to the driver just in case he wasn't as astute.
The two coaches zigzagged through the centre of the town. Although Stubbs was fairly sure that they had kept far enough away that they hadn't been noticed, whoever this man was he was making a good job of ensuring no-one did follow him. At last the carriage left the main London roads and headed down a side street leading towards an older area of the town. Stubbs ordered his driver to slow down and remain just out of sight. When at last the lead carriage finally pulled up to a stop it was outside a large row of older Edwardian buildings. The stranger jumped out of his carriage and then hobbled down the side of one of the buildings. Stubbs watched the man slowly disappear out of sight before jumping down from his own carriage and tentatively following.
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© Copyright 2008 ReflectingeyE (UN: reflectingeye at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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