The Gang of St Bride's, page 21
part #9 of Penny Green Series
“You’re right, we should.”
We began to walk along the north side of the cathedral, craning our necks to see the famous dome as it loomed into view.
“I’m still astonished as to how they managed to go about constructing such a beautiful building,” I said.
“Looks old ter me,” replied Sarah.
“Yes, it was built about two hundred years ago. Or rebuilt, I should say. There has been a cathedral on this site for a very long time, but the previous one was destroyed during the Great Fire of London.”
I examined the buildings opposite the cathedral but saw no public houses there. We continued our walk past the churchyard until we reached the junction with Cheapside, where Sir Robert Peel’s statue overlooked the traffic. I glanced up at the buildings across the road and saw a public house standing directly opposite.
The Queen’s Head.
My heart gave a leap.
“It’s just as we thought!” I exclaimed, gripping Sarah’s arm excitedly. “Do you see it there? The Queen’s Head! We knew it had to be named after the Queen. I don’t know which queen, mind you. It can’t be the current one, because it’s only named after her head. Perhaps one of the wives Henry VIII beheaded? But that doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s the queen we were searching for!”
I checked the road for a gap in the traffic and began to cross over.
“‘Call at the one with our best-known mourner’,” I said. “I suppose that means we should go in and speak to them. But what do we say? Do you think we should show them the riddle?”
Sarah seemed rather subdued considering we had just solved the final part of the puzzle.
We reached the pavement outside The Queen’s Head and I turned to face her. She looked up at the sign for a moment, as though she wanted to say something but was unable to find the words.
“Would you prefer not to go inside?” I asked. “I won’t mind if you’d rather wait out here. I can speak to them about the riddle alone and see where that gets me.” I peered in through the grimy leaded windows. “I can’t see much in there.”
I couldn’t understand why Sarah suddenly appeared to be struck dumb.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
There was no response.
I walked toward the door and Sarah walked closely beside me, positioning herself between me and the public house. Her unusual behaviour was beginning to unnerve me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Again, there was no reply. I saw that she wasn’t looking at me; rather her eyes were fixed on the junction with Cheapside.
Had she seen a fellow gang member? Were we in trouble?
I followed her gaze but saw no one of note that she might have had cause to look at. A number of people passed us briskly on the path, and the road was busy with horses and carriages. I wondered whether this decisive moment was testing her nerve a little.
I decided to walk past her and enter the public house. As I turned to do so, I was met with a force that sent me flying sideways toward the road. The movement felt as though it were happening at a slowed-down pace, as if I almost had time to ask what was happening.
My mouth tried to form the question, but at the same time a cry rang out. My eyes locked on Sarah’s as I fell back, and I saw that her face had hardened into a passive stare, her arms and hands stretched out toward me.
It was then – in that moment which seemed to last an eternity – that I realised she had pushed me. Indignation was swiftly followed by fear as I felt the road drawing nearer and the dark form of a horse looming above me.
I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut and found myself engulfed in darkness.
Chapter 40
“Penelope?” My sister’s voice sounded distant.
My head felt thick and heavy. A bright white light sent a sharp pain into my head as I opened my eyes. A whitewashed ceiling and a gaslight fitting gradually came into focus.
“Penelope?” Eliza’s voice echoed in my ears. “She’s waking up!”
It hurt to move my head but when I did so, I saw my sister’s face to my right. Her large brown eyes were fixed on mine, and she smiled as I met her gaze. I felt her hand grip my upper arm.
“Can you hear me?” she asked.
I tried to reply in the affirmative but no sound came out. My lips felt cracked and dry when I attempted to move them.
“She can hear me!”
I wanted to ask her to quieten her voice but was unable to speak. I managed to frown a little.
“What’s the matter, Penelope? I expect you need water.” Eliza’s face turned away. “Nurse? She’s awake! She needs water!”
My ears filled with a high ringing sound and I closed my eyes again. Fatigue overwhelmed me as I tried to take a deep breath and, as I did so, a sharp pain shot through my chest. I heard someone cry out, then realised it must have been me.
“Penelope?” came Eliza’s concerned voice.
I wanted to ask what had happened to me but the light was too bright for me to open my eyes and trying to put the words together was too much of a struggle. I desperately needed to sleep.
I heard another voice, one I didn’t recognise. “I’ll give her some more morphine.”
I felt fingers on my lips and then my mouth was filled with a sweet syrup. I choked as it reached the back of my throat, sending another shot of pain through my chest.
“Try to swallow it, Miss Green,” said the soothing voice.
More syrup was poured into my mouth and I did as I had been told.
“You’re going to be all right, Penelope,” said my sister.
I felt her hand on my shoulder, which provided a small amount of comfort. “You’re going to be all right.”
Her voice faded away as my body filled with warmth. Then I felt as though I were beginning to float, my body slowly lifting up into the beams of the whitewashed ceiling above me. I gently rose and fell, as if traversing the crests of gentle waves. Only I didn’t feel as though I were out on the sea, but somewhere high up in the clouds.
Chapter 41
Eventually, I returned home from St Bartholomew’s Hospital. James and Eliza carried me up the stairs to my room and Mrs Garnett brought up some food supplies.
“You need to get your strength back as soon as possible, Miss Green,” she said. “I’ve made you a fruit cake, and this here is a game pie. You’ll need a good pint of porter every morning and evening, too. I’ll fetch it from The Red Lion each day.”
“I don’t need two pints of porter every day,” I remonstrated as Eliza tucked me into bed and wrapped a blanket around me for good measure.
Mrs Garnett had heated the mattress with a bed warmer.
“Yes, you do,” argued my landlady.
I sighed, quite fed up with being unable to do anything for myself and having to follow everyone else’s orders.
James moved the chair from my writing desk and seated himself beside the bed.
“I’m so glad we finally have you home again, Penny,” he said softly, holding my hand.
“So am I, James.” I gazed into his blue eyes and squeezed his hand.
“I’m sure you’ll make a swift recovery now.”
“I’ll have to,” I replied. “I need to be better in time for our wedding! How far away is it now?”
“Two weeks,” he said, “but we can delay it if we need to. You must be fully recovered before we are married.”
“I will be.”
“You’re still very weak,” said Eliza.
“Only because I’ve been forced to lie in bed for so long. If they’d let me get up and walk around the hospital, I’d have been a lot stronger by now.”
“You’ve had a great shock as well as suffering a number of injuries,” said my sister.
I groaned at this, tired of people assuming my nerves had somehow been damaged in the accident.
“I’ve kept all the newspapers, Miss Green,” said Mrs Garnett. “You’ll want to read them, no doubt. You made quite the news story for a good few days!”
“I’m sure Penelope has no wish to be reminded of it,” said my sister. “That’s why we kept the newspapers away from her at the hospital.”
“Which you know I wasn’t happy about!” I remonstrated. “Now I can finally read all about it.”
“But you need to concentrate on getting better,” said Eliza. “Reading about it will simply replay it all in your mind and set your recovery back.”
“While I’m grateful for all your help, Ellie, you’ve been far too protective of me. I need to know everything. Now is the time for all the questions I have to be answered. First and foremost, has Sarah been arrested?”
James and Eliza exchanged a glance which suggested they were looking to one another for advice on what to say.
“Tell me the truth,” I protested. “I need to know!”
“You need to get better first,” Eliza reiterated.
“I shan’t get any better while my mind is consumed with what has happened. You must stop keeping these things from me. It’s not fair!”
“We’re only thinking of your health.”
“I can look after myself!” I retorted. “Tell me everything you know or I shall get angrier and angrier about it. I’m sure you’d agree that anger wouldn’t be particularly good for my health.”
“I’ll read the newspaper report to you, Miss Green,” said Mrs Garnett.
Eliza gave her a sharp glance.
“She won’t be happy unless she hears it,” my landlady added. “You know your sister well enough by now, Mrs Billington-Grieg. She has a lively mind and she won’t rest until she knows all there is to know. Your average woman would prefer to lie in bed for several weeks and give no thought to such things, but not our active Miss Green, I’m afraid.”
“You’re right, Mrs Garnett,” said James.
“I don’t want Penelope getting herself upset,” said Eliza.
“I’m already upset!” I bellowed.
“Here goes, then,” said Mrs Garnett. She held a copy of the Morning Express up in front of her and cleared her throat. “The headline reads: ‘Miraculous escape as lady is saved by her corset’.” Did you hear that, Miss Green? A miracle, it was!”
She turned back to the newspaper. “‘A thirty-five-year-old lady reporter had an extremely lucky escape on Tuesday when she fell beneath the wheels of a brewery dray cart. Miss Green, a reporter for this very newspaper, was pushed into the road by a young woman, who immediately ran away. The incident took place at the junction of St Paul’s Churchyard and Cheapside yesterday at approximately five o’clock in the evening. Fortunately, the quick actions of the horse allowed the animal to step over Miss Green. However, two of the cart’s wheels passed directly over her mid-section. Horrified witnesses felt sure the lady must be quite dead, for she lay in the road after the cart had passed over her and gave no response to those who rushed to her aid.
“‘The driver of the cart, Mr Patrick Jones, was described as being in a distressed state immediately after the event, but he soon recovered his wits sufficiently to help lift the injured lady onto the cart and swiftly proceed with her to St Bartholomew’s Hospital, which happened to be close by. A number of onlookers gave chase to the young woman who had pushed Miss Green, but unfortunately she evaded capture.
“‘Dr Michael McKinsey from St Bartholomew’s Hospital spoke to our reporter yesterday. He said: “There is little doubt that Miss Green was saved by the bone-work in her corset. She has suffered some broken ribs, but the effects of the wheels passing over her would otherwise have been far worse. In fact, the incident would most likely have proved fatal.”
“‘Dr McKinsey stated that further injuries suffered by Miss Green included a fracture to her arm, along with several cuts and extensive bruising to her face. He added that the patient is expected to make a full recovery.
“‘Miss Green is engaged to marry Inspector James Blakely of Scotland Yard. The inspector told our reporter that police officers across London are now on high alert for any sighting of the woman, believed to be called Sarah, who pushed Miss Green beneath the wheels of the dray cart. Witnesses have described her as being between five feet two and five feet four inches tall. She was wearing a cream bonnet, a brown woollen shawl and a dark brown skirt at the time of the incident. The woman has fair hair and was described as having a sunken-cheeked appearance. Inspector Blakely urged anyone who may have seen ‘Sarah’ or knows of her whereabouts to visit a local police station at their earliest convenience.’”
Mrs Garnett folded up the newspaper and I thanked her for reading the article to me.
“This is why every woman should wear a corset,” she added, giving my sister a pointed look. “It’s another reason why I’ve no patience with this so-called rational dress movement. Corsets are not only important for a lady’s silhouette; they save lives too!”
After making this declaration, Mrs Garnett left the room to make some tea.
“It’s the second time it’s saved my life, in actual fact,” I said. “The boning in my corset once stopped a bullet, too!”
Eliza gave a wry smile. Almost a year had passed since she’d stopped wearing a corset.
“Is there any news on Sarah?” I asked. “The article Mrs Garnett kindly read out must have been written a while ago.”
“We think we have news on her whereabouts, but we can’t be sure quite yet,” said James.
“What does that mean?”
“I mean to say that the body of a woman matching Sarah’s description was found last week.”
Chapter 42
“Where? What do you mean? I don’t understand. Is she dead?”
James responded with a solemn nod. “She was found in Arundel Place; a small street leading off Coventry Street between Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus.”
“Was she murdered?”
“She had been shot.”
“Oh, good grief! The poor girl!”
“She tried to kill you!” exclaimed Eliza.
“But there must have been a reason for it.”
“I’m sure she did have a reason, but that hardly justifies her actions,” replied James.
“Did someone wreak revenge on her for what she did to me?” I asked.
“We don’t know that, either,” said James. “But we do know that Rosie Gold, who is now well enough to answer our questions, claims never to have come across her before. In fact, we’ve been unable to find anybody who knows her. Not a single friend or family member has come forward.”
“How awful,” I said. “She seems to have been entirely alone in the world.”
“We also know that she returned to The Queen’s Head the day after she’d pushed you into the road. The publican there told us so. Apparently, she spoke to him about the riddle, but he claimed that he knew nothing about it.”
“But he must know something.”
“If he does, he’s choosing not to tell the police.”
“It seems as though she waited until she had the names of all the public houses referred to in the riddle, then decided to get me out of the way in an attempt to solve the final part herself.”
“It certainly seems that way.”
“But we don’t know whether she solved it or not, do we?”
“The publican at The Queen’s Head says he was unable to tell her anything.”
“Do we know what she said to him?”
“She told him the names of all the other public houses from the riddle, but he maintains that he had no idea what she was talking about.”
“Does that mean the riddle is completely meaningless? I thought it would lead to the gang’s hideaway as soon as it was solved. I thought Sarah wanted to help us! I still can’t understand why she tried to kill me.”
“It seems as though her motivation was not as we first thought,” said James.
“What was her true motivation?”
“Sarah wanted the riddle solved, there’s no doubt about that. She needed someone to solve it for her, Penny, and that’s where you came in. Then once she had everything she needed, Sarah decided you had to be disposed of. The decision may not have been hers, however. She may have been ordered to do it.”
“By whom?”
“We can’t be sure exactly but when the police surgeon examined Sarah’s body, he found a tattoo on her inner forearm. It was a small tattoo and only visible when her sleeve was rolled up.”
“What did it depict?”
“We believe it to be the insignia of the Bolsover Gang.”
“But Sarah was a member of the Twelve Brides.”
“That’s what she told you.”
“So she lied.”
Despite all her falsehoods and her attempt to have me killed, I didn’t feel any anger towards Sarah. Perhaps it was because she was dead, or perhaps because I sensed she had been ordered to do what she’d done.
“I wonder if she was given no choice in the matter,” I said.
“What do you mean?” asked Eliza.
“Perhaps Sarah was ordered to murder me, so she had no choice.”
“Of course she had a choice!” James said scornfully. “If she was being intimidated by members of the Bolsover Gang she could have run away. Better still, she could have reported their activities to the police.”
“She had no one to blame but herself,” said Eliza.
“But she had such a difficult upbringing—”
“Maybe she did,” interrupted Eliza, “or maybe that’s what she wanted you to think so you’d feel sorry for her. And even if it were true, a difficult upbringing doesn’t give her the right to join a gang, thieve, steal, lie or attempt to murder someone! Plenty of people have difficult upbringings and manage to create an honest life for themselves. Don’t pity her, Penelope.”
I thought back to the time when I had first encountered Sarah. I’d assumed she was a good person because she’d stopped a boy from stealing my bag. I wondered now whether the incident had been staged in order to win my trust.
“Someone must have told her to seek me out,” I said. “I suppose someone in the Bolsover Gang knew of me, but how?”
