The Gang of St Bride's, page 16
part #9 of Penny Green Series
“I’ll gladly ask him, Miss Green.”
I was pleasantly surprised to find Sarah waiting for me at the steps of Mrs Garnett’s house when I returned that evening. I hoped she was beginning to place some trust in me and would be willing to tell me more about the Twelve Brides.
“Evenin’, Miss Green!”
I cautiously returned her smile, mindful of the fact that I would have to ask Mrs Garnett to telegram James while Sarah was in the house. My heart thudded heavily at the thought.
“I suppose you’re here to find out how I’ve been getting on with the riddle,” I said.
“Yeah.”
I invited her inside and we climbed the stairs up to my room together. Tiger was sitting outside my window waiting to be let in but, catching sight of the stranger in my room, she strolled away across the rooftops.
“Yer cat’s scared again,” commented Sarah.
“Please don’t take it personally; she’s like that with everyone. Have a seat here at my desk. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
I lit my little stove and placed the kettle on it to boil some water for a cup of tea.
She perched stiffly on the chair at my writing desk, then glanced down at my papers. “Look at all that writin’! I can’t write fer toffee, me.”
“Has anyone ever taught you?”
“Yeah, I’ve ’ad some lessons, but I’m no good at writin’.”
“What do you enjoy doing?”
“I like the music ’all.” Her face brightened. “I go down the Oxford.”
“The Oxford Music Hall?” I clarified. I was familiar with the large venue on Oxford Street, though I’d never been inside it.
“Yeah.”
“Which are your favourite acts there?”
“Lillie Barrett. I like the songs she sings. Peculiar Alice is funny an’ all. I like the acrobats and them high wire acts. Makes me ’ead spin when I look up at ’em!”
“Is that your favourite thing to do in the evenings?”
“Yeah, with a stop-off at the pastry shop on Avery Row, too. They got the best fruit tarts of anywhere.”
Sarah seemed to realise she was giving away too much about herself and her lips tightened, as if she wished to stop herself talking.
“I’ve made a little progress with the riddle,” I said.
I told her about my visits to Blackfriars Bridge and London Stone, as well as the theory James and I had about the royal public house names.
She smiled. “I dunno ’ow yer done it, but it sounds good ter me!”
“Do the locations mean anything to you?” I asked her. “Have you heard of any gang members visiting those places?”
Sarah shook her head. “I ’aven’t ’eard nothin’ about ’em. It’s all news ter me.”
“Do you know if any of the gang members frequent particular public houses?”
She shrugged. “Nope.”
“Are there any you visit regularly?”
“Wheatsheaf. I bin in there a few times, but not often, like.”
I tried to conceal my disappointment that the name of the public house she’d mentioned had no royal associations.
“The police have learned the name of the second girl,” I said, sitting down on my bed. “Margaret Brown. Have you heard of her?”
“That’s ’er name, is it? I only ever known ’er face.”
“The police are really keen to talk to you about Margaret and Josephine.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about neither of ’em! And besides, I ain’t talkin’ to no coppers. I’ve told yer that.”
“I understand there may be reasons why you might prefer not to speak to them, but they’re willing to ignore any criminal behaviour which may have occurred in the past… not that I’m suggesting any such thing has occurred, but if it had—”
“’Ave you been talkin’ to ’em about me?” Her eyes narrowed.
“They know you gave me the riddle. That’s why they’d like to speak to you.”
“I ain’t got nothin’ ter say to ’em.”
“They need all the help they can get, Sarah. They’re eager to arrest whoever murdered Josephine and Margaret. After all, the perpetrator could easily do the same thing to someone else.”
“I gave yer the riddle and that’s all I’m doin’.” She pursed her lips, seemingly resolute.
I got up from my bed. “I’ve just remembered that I needed to tell my landlady something,” I said. “I shan’t be a minute, and when I return I’ll be able to tell you more about Rosie Gold if you’re interested.”
Sarah’s eyes brightened. “Yeah, course I’m interested!”
“I’ll be as quick as I can.”
I hurried downstairs, praying Sarah would remain where she was. I found my landlady mending stockings in her parlour.
“Mrs Garnett, I wonder if I could ask a favour of you. I’ve received another visit from Sarah. She’s up in my room as we speak.”
“That young ruffian who came here the other evening?”
“She’s not all that bad, but it’s a matter of urgency that Inspector Blakely be informed. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind paying a quick visit to the police station around the corner and asking them to telegram Scotland Yard to summon him here.”
Mrs Garnett put down her sewing and jumped to her feet. “Is she causing trouble?”
“No, not at all, but it’s very important that James speaks to her. I can’t persuade her to do so voluntarily, so we’ll need to take her by surprise, as it were.”
She grabbed her shawl from the back of the chair and hurriedly tied it around her shoulders. “Don’t you worry, Miss Green, I shall have him summoned at once!”
“Thank you, Mrs Garnett.”
“And you be careful now.” She looked at me with wide, concerned eyes. “Any trouble at all and you get out onto the street, hollering as loud as you can.”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
“You never know with these girls.” She wagged a finger at me.
I returned to my room and was relieved to find that Sarah was still there. She was smiling at Tiger, who was cautiously peering in through the window. All I had to do now was detain her here until James arrived.
I sat down on my bed again.
“Would you like to hear what I’ve learned about Rosie Gold?” I asked.
Perhaps my manner was a little too forced and cheery because Sarah’s expression appeared as guarded as Tiger’s.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“They’ve discovered that she frequents the Mondragon Hotel, and apparently she’s to attend a party there this Friday. If they manage to arrest her, the murderer of Josephine and Margaret will finally be behind bars.”
Sarah gave a faint smile. “Be good if they can get ’er. But they need ter get the rest of ’em an’ all.”
“What do you mean by ‘the rest of them’?”
“It ain’t just ’er, is it? There’s more of ’em. That’s what the riddle’s for. It’ll help yer get ter all of ’em.”
“Do you know any of their names?”
“Nope.” She shifted impatiently in the chair. “But just gettin’ Rosie on ’er own won’t be no good.”
“Well, it would be a start at least,” I replied. “Hopefully the rest will be soon rounded up too. Perhaps even Miss Danby.”
Sarah smiled in response to this. “Where d’yer reckon yer’ll go next?”
“What for?”
“The riddle. What yer gonna do next?”
“There are three more references I need to look up. The Earl of Pembroke, Hamlet and the Galtans,” I replied. “The line, ‘Hamlet no longer treads the boards’ might refer to a theatre, so I think I’ll need to visit some of the theatres in the West End and find out which have recently performed the play. It might not be a theatre in the West End, of course, but as there are plenty of theatres in the area it makes sense to start there. I’ll have to continue my research on the Earl of Pembroke and the Galtans at the library.”
“And yer goin’ to them theatres tomorrah?”
“I might enquire at the offices of The London Stage first. It’s a periodical that reports on the theatre world, and the offices are on Drury Lane. Perhaps you’d like to join me?”
“I wouldn’t be no ’elp.”
“Why not? You might know more than you realise, and then you’ll have a chance of solving some of the riddle yourself.”
Sarah gave a laugh as she got to her feet. “It don’t seem likely.”
I felt rather alarmed as she appeared to be readying herself to leave. I knew it would take about twenty minutes for James to get here by cab from Scotland Yard. I needed to detain her for at least another fifteen minutes.
“Perhaps we could look at the riddle together for a moment,” I suggested.
“I gotta go.”
She made her way toward the door and I knew that if I made any further effort to detain her, she would start to grow suspicious.
“Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I suggested as she opened the door. “I’ll be in Drury Lane at ten o’clock.”
She gave me a smile and then was gone.
Chapter 31
“I did all I could to keep her here,” I told James fifteen minutes later.
He stood in the hallway, bowler hat in hand. “Do you think she knew you’d called for me?”
“I don’t see how she could have done.”
He gave a long sigh.
“I told her I’ll be going to the offices of The London Stage in Drury Lane tomorrow,” I continued. “I asked her to join me there.”
“And she said yes?”
“She gave no answer either way.”
“It’s fairly unlikely, then.”
“She’s interested in having the riddle solved, so her curiosity just might get the better of her. I told her I’d be there at ten o’clock.”
“I can arrange to be there with some men in plain clothes at that time. They won’t make themselves obvious, so you can go about your business as usual. That way she hopefully won’t suspect anything if she does turn up.”
“And what will you do? Will you arrest her?”
“We’ll try speaking to her nicely first, and ideally she’ll agree to help without us having to resort to drastic measures.” He took his notebook out of his pocket. “Give me a good description of her, Penny, so we know exactly who we’re looking for.”
I ambled along Drury Lane at the allotted time the following day, hoping beyond hope that Sarah would join me. A light drizzle had started to fall, and various street hawkers tried to sell me watercress and playbills as I passed. A number of dirty-faced children congregated at the end of the narrow streets and passageways. I glanced at the street names, trying to decipher the lettering among the dirt.
When I reached White Horse Yard I paused, wiped the rain from my spectacles and looked up the narrow street, which was crowded with tumbledown buildings. This was where Margaret Brown had lived with her family. The poverty-stricken district was only a short distance from the rich pickings of the West End, so it was really no surprise that some of the inhabitants had turned to shoplifting and even street robbery in an attempt to improve their lot.
I continued on, wondering where James and his men had positioned themselves. Two labourers in shabby woollen suits and flat caps strolled toward me. One was smoking a clay pipe.
Were they really labourers or police officers in plain clothes?
I reached the offices of The London Stage and paused, waiting to see whether Sarah would join me. A clock above the nearby ironmonger’s shop showed the time to be five minutes after ten o’clock. I turned to walk the length of Drury Lane again, looking out for her all the while.
By the time the clock showed a quarter after ten I decided I could wait no longer and stepped inside. I felt disappointed Sarah had decided not to join me, but also a slight sense of relief that she hadn’t done so. A confrontation with James would have been difficult to endure, and it would almost certainly have meant the end of our brief acquaintance. I still maintained the belief that keeping myself on good terms with Sarah would pay dividends in the long term.
Inside The London Stage office I met with Mr Harris, a gentleman with neatly trimmed whiskers who wore a velvet jacket and a silk cravat. He showed me into a room with numerous framed theatre posters on the walls.
“And how can I be of help to the Morning Express?” he asked, gesturing toward a chair by the fireplace, then sitting directly opposite me.
“I’m wondering whether there have been any particularly notable performances of Hamlet in recent years,” I said. “Can you recall any?”
“What do you mean by notable?”
“I’m not really sure. Perhaps the performance was particularly well received or the role of Hamlet was played by a well-known actor.”
He steepled his fingers and puzzled over this for a moment. “Well, there have been a fair few. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Miss Green, but your request seems rather an obscure one.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“May I ask the reason behind it?”
“Certainly. I’m seeking the answers to an unusual riddle, you see.”
“Oh?”
I opened my notebook and took out the now crumpled piece of paper. “This riddle purportedly leads to the secret headquarters of a local gang.”
His eyebrows raised with interest. “Does it indeed? May I read it?”
“Of course.”
He read through it, then gave a sigh. “None of it makes any sense to me, but I see the Hamlet reference now.”
“Does it mean anything to you?”
“Nothing at all.”
“‘Hamlet no longer treads the boards,’” I stated. “Was a performance of Hamlet ever cut short unexpectedly?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Have any of the theatres decided to stop performing Shakespeare plays?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Has an actor who was famous for playing Hamlet recently died?”
“There’s Samuel Phelps, I suppose. He died about six or seven years ago.”
“Perhaps that’s it. Do you know where he’s buried?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid. I believe he was living out in the direction of Essex when he died.”
“Do you know where he lived prior to that?”
“Islington, I think. He managed Sadler’s Wells for a number of years, if that’s any help.”
“Then perhaps the riddle relates to Sadler’s Wells Theatre.”
He gave a shrug. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m no good with riddles, I’m afraid. It could be anything, really, couldn’t it?”
“Mr Phelps played Hamlet, managed Sadler’s Wells and is no longer with us,” I said. “Therefore he no longer treads the boards. It must be Sadler’s Wells, mustn’t it?” I began to feel a little more hopeful.
“It sounds quite possible. However, Phelps didn’t just play Hamlet; he put on hundreds of Shakespeare productions at Sadler’s Wells. His portrayal of King Lear was particularly acclaimed, as was his portrayal of Macbeth.”
“Then why would Hamlet be specifically mentioned?”
He shrugged again. “Perhaps the reference has nothing to do with Sadler’s Wells after all.”
“Is there a theatre where only Shakespeare plays are performed?”
“There’s the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon.”
“And Sadler’s Wells Theatre… That’s in Clerkenwell, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, Miss Green.”
I thanked Mr Harris for his time and stepped back out onto Drury Lane.
It seemed to make sense to visit Sadler’s Wells Theatre in order to look for a public house nearby with a royal name. I glanced around in the hope that I might see Sarah, but there was no sign of her. I couldn’t catch sight of James either. Were he and his men still in the area?
I crossed the road and hailed a cab to Clerkenwell. Just as we turned into Great Queen Street, I saw a familiar figure standing on the pavement. I opened the hatch in the roof and requested the driver to stop.
“Sarah!” I called out.
She jumped, then smiled when she saw me.
“There yer are, Miss Green. I’ve bin lookin’ for yer.”
“I’m heading over to Sadler’s Wells Theatre. I think it may be another location from the riddle!”
“Do yer?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
She gave a nod, so I asked the driver to unlock the door for her.
I told Sarah about my conversation with Mr Harris as we travelled. “We should hopefully see a public house nearby with a royal-sounding name,” I added.
I suspected James would be annoyed to have missed her for a second time. She must have gone looking for me in Drury Lane while I was busy speaking to Mr Harris.
“Some bloke tried speakin’ ter me while I was lookin’ round for yer.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “Really?”
“Yeah, summat weren’t right about ’im. ’E was with another bloke an’ all. One asked fer me name but the other didn’t say nothin’.”
I suspected she had been approached by two police constables.
“Did you tell him your name?” I asked.
“Yeah. Said I was Millie, I did.”
The cab stopped outside Sadler’s Wells Theatre fifteen minutes later. I paid the fare, climbed out and immediately looked around for the nearest public house. The street we had alighted on, Rosebery Avenue, was wide and lined with trees. Across the road stood a line of townhouses and a small park. A little further down the road from where we stood was a reservoir and waterworks. The immediate area was quiet and pleasant, making it noticeably different from the noise and bustle around Blackfriars Bridge and London Stone.
The drizzle had turned to steady rain, so I opened my umbrella.
“Have you ever been here before?” I asked Sarah.
“Nope. Can’t say I ’ave.”
We walked on past the theatre and the townhouses toward a road junction. My hopes were raised when I saw a large red-brick public house across the road but sank again when I saw that it was called The Rising Sun. I made a note of this in my notebook anyway and we continued along a rain-soaked street lined with smart four-storey terraced houses on either side. Once I began to feel as though we had ventured too far from the theatre we turned left and walked back toward the start of our walk.
