Herman had no weapon, and even if he did, the fight would only draw more people into the fray. He didn’t dare lower the paper while he was facing the clerk. His life now depended on one man’s poor memory and lack of imagination.
“Well . . . there is one man, now that I think on it. Foreign gentleman. I could take you to his room, see if he’s in.”
Herman heard a soft smack and imagined the bobby hitting the palm of his free hand with his club. His eyes stared at the paper inches from his face, an advertisement for women’s support garments filling his field of view. He noticed his hands were still, and a sense of peace came over him. So, this is how it ends, he thought. He’d hang, no doubt as to that. He hoped Herr Grüber never told Immanuel of his father’s end.
The sound of boots clambering up the stairs was soon replaced by the knocking on a door. Herman considered running, but without his rifle, he hadn’t a chance of fulfilling his mission. Perhaps the constable would leave for reinforcements, and he could retrieve it before their return.
The knock was answered by a voice within. The door opened and was quickly followed by the sound of a scuffle as the bobby called out, “Police! You’re coming with me!”
Curiosity overcame caution and when Herman lowered his paper, he saw a red-faced man tumble down the stairs, the constable rushing after him. The fall seemed to knock the wind out of him, and after the bobby snapped a set of manacles on him, he was jerked to his feet and the stunned man was quick-marched out the door.
The clerk returned to his station and seeing Herman’s wide eyes, apologized: “Sorry, sir. Nothing to concern yourself with, I’m sure. Please, enjoy the rest of your Sunday afternoon.”
Herman felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. He wanted to give a prayer of thanksgiving, then considered what deity would accept the prayer of an assassin. Do the damned ever know peace again?
James returned to Scotland Yard to learn if Ott had been apprehended. Police Commissioner Bradford had linked all the stations together by telegraph, so the inspector was spared the task of going to each one. Three suspects were in custody, and it took James until ten at night to establish none of them was his German assassin. He trudged home in the dark, knowing he was no closer to his quarry than when the day’d begun.
The custodian at the boarding school turned out the lights, though he knew the lads would be awake for some hours yet. They had rehearsed long that day and by rights should be exhausted, but at their age the excitement of the approaching ceremony was more potent than fatigue. They would have dark circles under their eyes tomorrow, but the buzzing of their whispers would fill the darkness until just before sunrise.
Ten-year-old Freddy Cummings’s throat was sore and he felt warm, warmer than a summer night could explain, but he’d said nothing to the choirmaster. He wanted to see the queen.
In the basement, the short circuit Herman had fashioned was undiscovered, waiting in the darkness to be tripped.
Two days day until the Jubilee.
46
Monday, June 21
James, Elizabeth, and I were all appropriately attired for the occasion and waiting outside the dean’s office when the Very Reverend Robert Gregory arrived. A robust man in his sixties, on the day before the most important day in his position he had no time for unannounced visitors.
“Who are you, what do you want, and why should I care?” he said. “I’m usually not an ogre, but I’ve no time for pleasantries today.”
James produced his badge and note from the police commissioner. “Then I’ll be blunt as well, Dean, and no offense to either side. I need to know if you’ve had any electrical work done in the cathedral recently.” The dean hesitated and began to speak, then caught himself and shook his head. “Sorry, Inspector, nothing affecting the cathedral in the last couple of years. If that’s all, I’ve work to do.” Without another word he entered his office and closed the door, the interview concluded.
I was grateful not to be in male attire at this moment, or my collar would have been too tight. “You’d think we were selling brushes door to door, not trying to save the queen!”
James shrugged and turned to Elizabeth. “Let this be an example. Not every clue leads to something. It was promising, and we were right to pursue it, but never pin your hopes on just one piece of information solving the case.”
I suspected this lecture was as much for my benefit as Elizabeth’s, and I suddenly understood one reason James attracted me so. He was kind, patient, and sensitive to the feelings of others. Perhaps that last quality made him not only a better man but a better detective. My anger faded as I looked at him. It was a dead end, but no matter. We would go forward . . . together.
“What do we do now, Father?”
“Might as well go to the roof and see the view.”
“Oh, let’s!” Elizabeth said. “That would be wonderful, don’t you think, Margaret?”
“I think you two intrepid detectives can do quite well without me as my knees are bothering me and the climb would be tiring. There is a café on the north side of the plaza. I can await you there and save you both a seat. You can wave at me if you like. Will that do?”
Elizabeth paused, “Yes, of course.” She gave me a sympathetic glance, and I could see my secret fear of heights was safe with her.
“Now go off and climb mountains. You know where to find me when you return to a sensible height.”
Elizabeth and James went off to find the stairs and as they turned to go, she slipped her hand into her father’s for just a moment. I noticed he stood a little taller as they made their way off.
Elizabeth was stunned by the view. The roofs of the buildings facing the cathedral across the plaza were covered with wooden bleachers, the carpenters making final adjustments here and there. Vendors for the rental of cushions were setting up their booths, and another for the rental of opera glasses was putting the finishing touches on his kiosk. In the plaza below, officers and sergeants were going through their maneuvers, their troops dismissed. All troops had to do was obey orders. Those who gave them had to know their business, however.
Elizabeth suddenly understood, in a way she could not explain, how an empire that spread across the world would be completely focused on this small space for a moment. That moment would then pass, and that power and attention would diffuse back to the globe it inhabited. She was standing on the tip of a needle wielded by a giant that briefly knit the world together.
“Being a detective is the grandest thing in the world,” she sighed. “Solving puzzles all day, stopping criminals. What fun!”
James shook his head. “There’s satisfaction, yes, but you can’t lose sight of why you’re employed. Our assassin is from Germany. Relations between us are tense already due to the status of British citizens in South Africa. The Kaiser recently congratulated the Boers for putting down a rebellion by our people, and that did not sit well in the House of Commons, I can tell you. If Ott were to murder Queen Victoria literally before the eyes of the entire British Empire, the calls for war would be unstoppable. We aren’t chasing this man merely for sport, but to save a life, and thereby potentially thousands of others.”
“Sorry, Father. It’s just so exciting to be with you and to help, in some small way.”
James placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It has been hard on you, hasn’t it? You’ll be grown soon enough. I promise to be the father you once knew, as long as you’re mine to care for.”
Elizabeth stood silent beside him, her head leaning against his shoulder, with only the pigeons of the cathedral as witnesses.
James’s thoughts returned to the problem at hand. He looked left toward the boarding school, but the trees between the school and the plaza blocked his view of the second-floor window. He noted the roof was flat on the right, southern end, but would be in plain sight from the roofs of adjacent buildings. No hiding place for a sniper there. Plus, the statue of Queen Anne and its massive column would partially bl
ock the view. No. The roof was no threat. He considered. No harm in looking, though.
He started to turn for the stairs when he remembered Margaret. He looked off to his right, and there she was in her bright blue dress.
He waved, and she waved back. He reached for Elizabeth’s hand and they headed for the stairs back down.
Freddy Cummings could no longer hide his condition. Even the choirmaster could not fail to note his flushed face and shivering. He was sent to his room with the school nurse, Mrs. Foster. Freddy bawled at not being able to see the queen, so the nurse moved him to the bed on the second floor, next to the window. “Tomorrow,” she said, “If you’re up for it, I can prop you up and you can watch the whole affair.” Freddy sniffed, but allowed how that might be acceptable, under the circumstances.
His fever was one hundred and three, and his cough was deep and troubling. Mrs. Foster reached for the bottle with a cherubic little girl clutching a puppy on it: Doctor Seth’s Cough Killer had never failed to stop a child’s cough, and Freddy was soon fast asleep.
James decided to go directly to the school from the cathedral to save the walk to Margaret and doubling back. James knew Elizabeth would be denied entry as even female family members were not allowed inside.
“I’ll go back to Margaret and wait for you there,” she said. “Don’t be long! Ladies don’t like to be kept waiting.”
James choked back a reply on the last bit of wisdom. As he trudged to the boarding school, his mind was fixed on the roof as a sniper’s platform. As he drew near and walked beneath the tree limbs, he noted windows on the first and second floors on the corner. Best see to those, too.
The custodian was taking his ease at the reception area when he walked in. With the boys practicing at all hours, they weren’t present long enough to generate much rubbish or general disorder. As far as he was concerned, the Jubilee should be an annual event, like Christmas.
“Inspector Ethington, Scotland Yard,” James said. “I’d like a look at your roof as a security precaution for the ceremony.”
The old man shrugged and pulled out a large ring of keys. “Very well, Inspector. I keep the door to the roof tightly locked, so my little hellions can’t drop things on passersby.”
They talked as they climbed the three flights up to the small steel door. “I imagine you’ll be catching the view from here on the big day, eh?” James asked.
“Aye, me and the missus, and the rest of the staff. We’ll have a view you’d pay twenty-five guineas for in the main square.”
“How many people, all together?”
“Why do you ask, Inspector? Planning on joining us?”
“Please, just answer my question.”
“Twenty folks, or thereabouts.”
The old man had averted his eyes, and James understood. The custodian had entered into some free enterprise and had sold a few spaces on the roof.
“How many staff, and how many paying guests? I won’t tell the dean. I just need to be assured there will be a goodly number of people here.”
The custodian relaxed. “Then you’ve got naught to worry about, Inspector. I reckoned we’d have room for about forty people, all standing.”
“Good. Let’s see the space.”
James was even more relieved when he saw the roof for himself. The door let out onto a small terrace with rails on two sides. There was a limited view through the trees between the school and the steps, but a sniper would have a difficult time of it. The other half of the roof would give a clearer shot but was steeply pitched and in plain view. No chance there.
“I’m satisfied, but to be sure, I’ll leave a bobby at the entrance the day of the ceremony. Give your special guests a password, and my man will let them through. Fair enough?”
The custodian brightened. “Aye, fair enough. I was gonna lock the entrance, but if I did and the choirmaster sent a boy for something and couldn’t get in, I’d never hear the end of it. One less thing for me to worry about.”
“Just two more things, and I’ll be off.”
The custodian winced. “Yes, Inspector?”
“I noticed two windows, on the first and second floors, which also face the cathedral. I’d like a look at them.” James could tell by the man’s crestfallen state that he’d stumbled upon another source of income. “How many spaces did you sell for them?”
“You’re a hard man, Inspector. Five spaces per window, but I’ve had to give five their money back. One lad’s taken ill, and the nurse set him up by the window on the second floor. She’ll be there with him the entire time.”
“Very well, but I’ll have a look all the same. Let’s go.”
The first-floor window was high, and James had to climb to the top bunk to see out. Given the crowd, the height of the carriage and the surrounding horsemen, a sniper would have a near-impossible shot. Still, it was the best opportunity he’d seen yet.
At the entrance to the room on the second floor, the barrel-shaped Mrs. Foster blocked his way. “Freddy just fell asleep, and I’ll not have you waking him.”
James noted the bottle beside the bed. “Madam, if you gave the child a dose of that syrup, given the amount of alcohol and morphine it contains, I am incapable of waking him. I will not step on him, but I must see if an assassin could take a potshot at Her Majesty from this vantage point. Surely you understand the need for precautions.”
She glared but backed away. “Be gentle then, and quick.”
James eased himself up the ladder to the top bunk until he was teetering on the next to top rung. He looked out the window. The angle was good. High enough to clear the crowd, low enough to be beneath the boughs of the trees, and far enough to the right so that the statue of Queen Anne didn’t block the view. If I were a sniper, this is where I’d be.
James carefully clambered back down and was relieved Freddy didn’t stir. Nurse Foster’s protective instincts were fully aroused and given her dimensions, he didn’t care to anger her further. “You’ll be here the entire time of the ceremony, with the boy?” he asked.
“Aye. Freddy so wanted to see the queen, so I put him here. We’ll watch the whole ceremony together.”
“Very well, Miss, I’ll leave you two alone. I hope your patient gets better soon.”
“It’s Missus, sir, thank you very much. He’ll pull through. These rascals always do.”
I’d best make that two bobbies at the entrance! James thought. I’d rather catch him, but if I can scare him off, I’ve done my duty. He wished the forbidding Mrs. Foster a good day and retreated from her lair. If all else fails, she’ll make an excellent guardian.
James was deep in thought as he exited the building and failed to notice the clumsy Russian across the street. Herman had been doing his own surveillance. The Inspector’s sudden interest in the boarding school worried him, but there was no place else to go. Whatever measures the man put in place, he’d have to deal with them. He shook his head. How many lives must I take before I kill an old woman? Where does it end? He ran his hand over his face. When this is over, I’ll never touch a weapon again. I pray Immanuel can someday forgive me.
But he might need another weapon to deal with any security the inspector put in place, something small and silent. He remembered a reference in a penny dreadful about a cat burglar. Yes, that would do perfectly. The afternoon shadows were lengthening but he still had time if he hurried. Soon he was back at the Dog’s Head. He wasn’t sure how welcome he’d be, but it was the only place he knew where he might find a seller for what he wanted.
He saw two men at the end of the bar. One sported a black eye patch and the other wore a shabby topcoat, and Herman recognized them as some of Keys Malone’s hangers-on. He took a deep breath and strode up. “Good evening, gentlemen. May I buy you two a drink?”
The two men sported a week’s beard each, and likely at least that much filth, so they grinned at the title “gentlemen.” Still, a drink was a drink.
“Howie!” one said as he motioned to the bar
man. “Three ales. This gentleman is buyin’.”
The barman didn’t stir until Herman laid a half crown on the scarred wooden surface. Only then did he pour three mugs full of ale and bring them over. Once the man retreated and Herman’s two new friends downed a long pull of their ale, Herman got down to business.
“I need something I think you two may be able to help me find.”
“What’s that, eh?” said Eye Patch. “Keys warned us to keep away from you.” Eye Patch leaned in closer, “he didn’t say why.”
“You took my ale readily enough,” Herman pointed out. “I just need to know where I can buy a simple item. I’m in a hurry and willing to pay well for it.”
“What is it, then?” Topcoat asked. “We ain’t a bloody store now, are we?”
Herman laid down a five-pound note. “If you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions.”
James returned to his ladies awaiting him at the café. “I’d best report in. I want two men posted at the entrance to the school. I’ll need to get that request in today, to ensure it happens, else I’ll be trapped there myself. I’ll see you two at home later.”
At Scotland Yard, he shared his concerns regarding the boarding school with Murdock. “The roof’s unlikely unless the custodian is an anarchist and can hold off a wave of sightseers on his own. The lower window would also be a poor choice, but the upper window might pose a risk. I’d like to post two men at the entrance to the school, if you’ll allow.”
Murdock frowned. “That’ll mean two less for crowd control. I’ll get some grief for that, but your two men will be there, though probably not too happy about it, given how they’ll miss the spectacle. Well, can’t be helped. Anything else?”
“Where do you want me tomorrow?”
The senior inspector leaned back to consider this. “Ott is our greatest threat. No one knows him like you do. I want you on the roof of the cathedral, looking for risks. Get some field glasses from the armory and scan the crowd, the windows, the rooftops. Look for anything out of the ordinary. I’ll have a police sergeant on both the east and west sides of the plaza, and if you see something, signal to them and point to the threat. Understood?”
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