The Gang of St Bride's, page 24
part #9 of Penny Green Series
We were interrupted by a maid carrying a tea tray, who was followed in by Maria.
Mrs Sutherland appeared to take no interest at all in what I had just said.
“How do you take your tea, Miss Green?” she asked, arranging two tea cups, a small jug of milk and the sugar bowl on the table.
“Just a little milk, thank you,” I replied.
My curiosity got the better of me as she poured out the tea.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
She passed me a steaming cup and saucer.
“I own The King Lud.”
“I had no idea.”
“I see no reason why you would.”
I wondered why she was giving so little away. Was she expecting me to question her?
“Do you use the tunnel to access the building?” I asked.
“Only when I have to. It’s rather damp and odorous, isn’t it?”
I picked up the silver teaspoon from my saucer and stirred the tea as I thought.
“I must confess that I feel quite confused, Mrs Sutherland,” I said.
“I’m sorry to hear it, Miss Green.”
I detected a slightly mocking tone in her voice.
“I had to solve a riddle to get here,” I continued. “It took quite a bit of time and I almost lost my life working on it. I eventually managed it, and now I find myself here in a room within your public house. Sarah assured me the riddle would lead to the secret headquarters of the Twelve Brides gang. Is that where I am now?”
She gave an amused smile and added a sprinkle of sugar to her tea. “The word ‘gang’ is rather undignified, don’t you find?”
“Do you have any connection to the street robbers on Piccadilly?”
“Not personally, no.”
“Do they work for you?”
“A lot of people work for me, Miss Green.”
“There are legitimate businesses and then there are criminal ones, Mrs Sutherland.”
Her expression darkened. “What are you implying?”
“The riddle has led me here, to where the Twelve Brides gang supposedly meets. Poor Josephine Miller and Margaret Brown were members of this gang. They were brutally murdered and thrown into the river.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting I had anything to do with that, Miss Green.” She sat back in her chair and regarded me sullenly.
“I’m merely telling you what I’ve discovered so far. The path I followed to find out who was behind those murders has led me to you, Mrs Sutherland. Now perhaps I’m mistaken—”
“Yes, you are,” she interrupted before taking a sip from her cup.
“In that case, can you explain to me what is happening? You are one of the very last people I expected to discover here, yet you didn’t seem at all surprised when you entered the room and saw me. Did you know what I was doing all along?”
“Of course I did.” She sat forward with her hands resting on the table, her fingers interlinked. “I helped you with one of the clues, if you remember.”
“Yes, I do remember.”
I recalled my conversation with Francis at the inaugural meeting of the London Women’s Rights Society. She had overheard it and mentioned the Globe Theatre to us.
“Did you write the riddle?” I asked.
“I couldn’t possibly say,” she replied, “but I think you enjoyed working on it, didn’t you? It certainly kept you out of trouble for a while.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Only that it kept you occupied.”
I felt a pang of shame on finding that I had allowed myself to be manipulated so easily. “But why was it written? Why lead people here?”
“It was written for the benefit of the Bolsover Gang.”
“It was passed to them on purpose?”
“In a roundabout way, I suppose, through a series of messengers, along with a rumour that there was a hideaway and money to be found.”
“Sarah didn’t mention any money to me. I suppose she decided to keep that part quiet. So you mean to say that the riddle was a trap?”
“Which they almost fell for... and you fell for completely, Miss Green!”
“But why lure me into a trap?”
“You weren’t the intended target. The riddle was obviously too complicated for the Bolsovers, so they recruited you to help them.”
“They didn’t recruit me!”
“Yes, they did. You just weren’t aware of it.”
“Sarah told me she wanted to help me find out who had murdered Josephine and Margaret.”
“She just told you what you wanted to hear, didn’t she? The Bolsover Gang knew all about Miss Green the reporter with her strong sense of justice.” Her voice had taken on a mocking tone again. “They knew you would do anything you possibly could to right the wrongs of this city, is that not so? Sarah played you like a fiddle.”
“I hope you haven’t involved my sister in any of your criminal activities, Mrs Sutherland.”
“What makes you think I’ve done anything of a criminal nature?”
“The gang rivalry, the secret tunnel—”
She gave a hollow laugh. “The tunnel has been here far longer than you or me, Miss Green.”
“But why all the secrecy?”
“You’re making the assumption that secrecy and criminality go hand in hand.”
“Do they not?”
“Not necessarily.”
“But your connection to the Twelve Brides… surely you can’t deny that?”
“Let me explain how my businesses work, Miss Green. I took them over from my parents after they lost their lives in an accident. Suffice to say I inherited a few properties as well, this public house being one of them. It’s in the very heart of London, and I’m sure you’d agree it’s a good location for a company headquarters. You work very close by yourself, don’t you?”
“What would you have done to Sarah if she’d managed to find her way here?”
“It would simply have led to some fresh negotiations with her superiors.”
“Would you have killed her, Mrs Sutherland?”
“What an impertinent question.”
“Would you?”
“She could have been extremely useful to me. It’s a shame she died.”
“And what of Rosie Gold?”
“What of her?”
“Did you plan the attack on her?”
She laughed. “You really must think me a dreadful sort judging by the accusations you’re throwing at me, Miss Green.”
“It wasn’t an accusation. It was a question.”
“It’s a shame Rosie’s reign has come to an end. She was the perfect dogsbody.”
“You simply allowed people to believe she was the one in charge?”
“Of course. It meant I could be left alone to get on with what I need to do.”
“Which is?”
“Running my businesses, Miss Green.”
“Why is the gang known as the Twelve Brides?” I asked.
“There were twelve founding members, though eleven of them are no longer alive.”
“Was Rosie Gold one of them?”
“Goodness me, no.”
“Then you are the remaining one?”
“Perhaps.”
“I’ll assume the answer is yes. Can you tell me what happened to Josephine Miller and Margaret Brown?”
“They died.”
“They were murdered – we know that much – but why?”
She sighed and poured herself some more tea. “Would you like another cup?”
“No, thank you. Why were Josephine and Margaret killed?”
“I don’t involve myself in disputes between those who are lower down the ranks, Miss Green, but I’m told they were both trouble-makers.”
“That’s no excuse for having them murdered.”
She smiled and took a sip of tea. “You really don’t understand the way these things operate, Miss Green. An organisation depends on every one of its workers. They must adhere to certain rules and regulations… to a code of conduct, if you like. Anyone who breaks the code puts their colleagues in danger.”
“How so?”
“They threaten the very existence of the organisation. Not only must a definitive end be put to their behaviour, but their punishment must serve as a warning to others.”
“You freely admit that you murdered Josephine and Margaret?”
She smiled again. “I admit to nothing, Miss Green. Do I look like the sort of person who would murder two young women?”
“No doubt you have plenty of associates to do that sort of thing on your behalf.”
“I would certainly never involve myself in such matters.”
“Then the two girls were killed at your behest. Did you order Rosie Gold to murder them?”
“The people working within this organisation know what’s expected of them. I couldn’t pass comment on anything specific in relation to Josephine or Margaret because I’m a busy lady, Miss Green. I trust my subordinates to deal with these matters.”
I felt a snap of anger. “But what about the London Women’s Rights Society? And the Hanwell Schools’ Fair? You merely associate yourself with these causes in order to draw a veil of respectability over yourself, I assume.”
“I’m already respectable, Miss Green.”
I laughed. “You run a gang! Your girls rob people on the street and steal from shops. And then they are brutally murdered if they step out of line!”
“I donate significant sums of my income to worthy causes and support those who are committed to making positive changes in our society. Your sister is a fine example.”
“You leave my sister out of this!”
“You’re the one who introduced us, Miss Green.”
I took a deep breath and tried not to allow myself to become any more riled by this woman. “And what of the people your girls rob?”
“Rich people indulging themselves by spending excessive amounts of money in London’s finest boutiques? I never imagined your sympathies would lie with them, Miss Green.”
“My sympathies lie with the poor girls you recruit.”
“The way they make a living is their choice, Miss Green. They earn better money than they would working in service or in a factory.”
“You’re encouraging them to become criminals and putting their lives in danger. You may tell yourself you’re robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, but you can never justify exploiting these poor girls. Nor could you ever justify committing murder.”
Mrs Sutherland sat back in her chair and regarded me coolly. “How nice it must be to live in a world in which good and evil are so clearly defined, Miss Green. I envy you and the pleasant, law-abiding family you grew up in.”
“You know nothing of my family.”
“I know a little.” She gave a weak smile, which quickly faded again. “More than you know about mine, perhaps. My parents were murdered when I was sixteen years of age. My father did whatever he had to in order to survive, and he was good at it, too. He was well-respected, and he always rewarded loyalty. He also had difficult decisions to make, and he had to be tough. His opponents needed to be dealt with before they had a chance to deal with him. He lost out in the end, but he died knowing I was provided for. What other choice did I have than to build on the foundations he had put in place and paid for with his life? I know no other world, Miss Green.”
“But all the deceit…” I began.
A sudden banging from downstairs startled us both. Mrs Sutherland rose from her chair in alarm and glanced over at her two assistants.
“It appears we have visitors. It’s time for you to leave, Miss Green. Maria, Beth, show her out.”
Chapter 48
“Who might those visitors be?” I asked as Maria and Beth escorted me out of the room. There was no reply from either. Mrs Sutherland walked briskly along the corridor and out of sight.
Perhaps they were from the Bolsover Gang, or maybe it was the police. Either way, the visitors appeared to have taken Mrs Sutherland by surprise.
I prayed the police were on the scene as we walked back down the staircase I had climbed earlier. I had anticipated being led through a passageway to the bar downstairs, but instead we returned to the trapdoor.
“I don’t want to go through the tunnel again,” I said. “Isn’t there another way out?”
“’Fraid not,” replied Maria brusquely.
“Too dangerous,” added Beth. “You ’eard Mrs Sutherland. We got visitors.”
The two women had positioned themselves in such a way that the only exit was through the trapdoor. I was intimidated by their height and presence.
“Where are you planning on taking me?”
“We’re showin’ you out, just as Mrs Sutherland told us,” Beth replied.
“But where to?”
“Yer’ll find out soon enough,” said Maria. “Now let’s not ’ang about, else there’ll be trouble.”
She calmly removed a sheathed knife from a concealed pocket in her skirts. I felt my feet root to the floor as a cold nausea gripped me.
“Do as we tell yer, Miss Green, and there’ll be no need fer us to use it,” she said, bending to lift the trapdoor.
“C’mon Miss Green,” said Beth, nudging me in the back.
“How long is the walk?” My voice sounded tremulous. I didn’t want them to know how frightened I was but I struggled to conceal it.
“Not long.”
Beth lit a lantern and climbed down the steps. Maria gestured for me to follow and, seeing no alternative, I did so. Maria closed the trapdoor behind us and we made our way inside the tunnel. Instead of walking in the direction from which I had come, which led beneath Ludgate Hill, we entered the next part of the tunnel, which by my estimation would take us in the direction of Fleet Street.
“Where does this tunnel lead?” I asked.
“Yer’ll find out soon enough,” answered Maria.
The vague replies to my questions only served to increase my anxiety.
“Why not leave me here?” I asked them. “I can find my way back to The Queen’s Head.”
Beth gave an empty laugh. I was about to remonstrate but realised it would be unwise to argue within such a confined space beneath the streets of London. I couldn’t take my mind off the knife in Maria’s possession. Was she only holding it to ensure that I was compliant, or did she intend to use it? I thought of how Josephine and Margaret’s throats had been cut and my stomach gave a sickening turn.
After a few minutes, I heard the rush of water again and the tunnel turned sharply to the left. The same unpleasant odour filled the air once more. As I followed Beth, I saw a steep slope ahead leading down toward the flowing water. I stopped and watched as she stepped into it. Her skirts were trailing in the brown water, but she made no attempt to hitch them up.
She turned to face me. “It ain’t nothin’ to worry about,” she said. “It’s only shallow.”
The stink in the air assaulted the back of my throat and I held my breath as I stepped into the cold, filthy water.
“Welcome ter the River Fleet,” said Maria. “Ain’t hardly no one as knows it’s still ’ere.”
I knew the Fleet to be an ancient river which had been covered over by London’s streets. “And it’s now become a sewer,” I commented.
She laughed. “Yeah. Yer’ll get used to the ’orrible smell in a bit.”
The tunnel we were now standing in was far wider and higher than the previous one, and the arched brick ceiling looked to be about seven or eight feet high. The water was bitingly cold and the chill quickly crept up my legs. The sediment on the bricks beneath the water felt slippery, and I had to tread carefully to avoid slipping. Ahead of us the river ebbed away into the darkness, and I could only assume it was heading down toward the Thames.
Josephine and Margaret had been found in the river. Was this how they ended up there? Was I to share the same fate?
My steps slowed as I considered this, and after a while Beth turned to look at me. I decided to adopt a cheery disposition so she wouldn’t notice my fear.
“I hope it doesn’t take too long to make our way out of here,” I said. “I’m to be married in five days!”
“Ter that p’lice inspector?” asked Maria.
“Yes, Inspector Blakely. How did you know?”
“I’ve just ’eard about it.”
“Did Mrs Sutherland tell you?”
“Proberly.”
“How long have you worked for her?”
“A fair while.”
“I had no idea she was involved in any sort of criminal activity,” I said. “She doesn’t strike me as that sort of woman at all.”
“She ain’t no criminal.”
“Did she ask you to bring Josephine and Margaret down here?”
“Yer askin’ too many questions, Miss Green.”
Foul-smelling water flowed into the main tunnel from several smaller side tunnels at various intervals. Further along it forked into two narrower tunnels. I followed the women through the one that led off to the left.
“Inspector Blakely is looking for me,” I said. “He’ll have worked out where I am by now, and he has a lot of men with him.”
If talk of the police unnerved the two women, they didn’t show it. In reality, James would have no idea where I was. I felt a sudden surge of panic in my chest, but I knew I could do little more than follow the two women through the water for the time being.
The two tunnels soon reconnected to form a much wider one. High up on the wall to our left was a row of arches. I wondered whether they would open up into an overflow chamber should the water levels rise too high. Slightly further downstream we came across a number of other tunnels, some of which could be accessed by ladders fixed to the wall. Others had sluice gates; some lowered and others raised. Maria and Beth continued on through the main tunnel, which was heading downstream. The water came up only as far as my knees, but the dampness had seeped up to my waist. I was cold and tired of wading through the filthy, stinking water.
“How often do you travel this way?” I asked them.
“Often enough,” replied Beth.
As the tunnel grew ever wider, I sensed we were almost at the end. I felt a churn of dread in my stomach again.
