The Piccadilly Pickpocket

by Karen Charlton

  ‘Betsy, come here and sit down,’ Lavender said and patted the seat beside him. Betsy sank wearily into the chair.

  ‘I’ve sent the children to the Temperance Hotel on Larch Street,’ she stammered. ‘They are kindly folks and they might have some ice to spare for Ned’s eye.’

  Lavender took Betsy’s hand into his own. She started with surprise at the sudden contact but she didn’t pull away. She was trembling. ‘Betsy, listen to me,’ he said quietly. ‘Tomorrow, I will go straight to Magistrate Read and get this sorted out. He’s a fair man and Ned is a valued member of the Horse Patrol.’

  ‘But Townsend said – ‘

  ‘I don’t give a damn about what Townsend said.’

  ‘But it were the Prince Regent’s watch!’

  ‘Well, he should have been more careful,’ Lavender said dryly. ‘Did Townsend say why the Prince was on foot and in Piccadilly?’

  Betsy and Ned glanced at each other. ‘No, he didn’t,’ Woods said. ‘But I did think it were unusual.’

  ‘It looks like there is more to this robbery than John Townsend has revealed,’ Lavender said. ‘He’s trying to divert attention away from his own mistakes in this affair by blaming Ned.’ He gave Betsy’s hand a final reassuring squeeze, reached for his gloves and stood up.

  ‘I’m damned if you are going to lose your job over this, Ned. Get some sleep, regain your health and leave the rest to me.’

  Bow Street Police Office never slept. As usual, the hallway entrance heaved with the dregs of London society. A sorry collection of petty criminals waited morosely in handcuffs and chains by the desk for the clerks to record the details of the charges against them. Once the administration was complete, they would be taken by the constables to the cramped and over-crowded cells at the back of the building.

  Lavender pushed his way through the dismal crowd to the desk. A clerk told him that Magistrate Read was already upstairs in his office. Lavender headed for the stairs. In his hand he held copies of The Times and The Morning Chronicle. Both news-sheets bore the news of the significant reward on offer for the safe return of the silver pocket watch that was stolen from a ‘gentleman’ near Piccadilly the previous day.

  ‘Detective Townsend is with the magistrate,’ the clerk called after him.

  Good, he thought. I’ll kill two birds with one stone. He took the stairs two at a time and rapped on the door to the magistrate’s office. He didn’t wait for James Read to invite him to enter before he opened the door and walked in. John Townsend was sprawled inelegantly in a chair opposite to Read, holding his battered hat in his hands. His light-coloured, kerseymere breeches were creased and stained; his hands and nails grubby.

  ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’ Lavender strode across the floorboards and sat down unbidden on the faded wing-backed chair next to Townsend. He took off his gloves and brushed a speck of dust off the leg of his breeches. Read’s eyes flicked between his two detectives and Lavender knew that the magistrate was comparing his own neatly combed hair, somber dark coat and spotless white cravat with the eccentric and colourful attire of the older man.

  ‘Morning, Stephen,’ Read said. If he was surprised at Lavender’s forceful approach he didn’t show it. As usual, the magistrate’s wig of office lay discarded among the quills and piles of paper manuscripts on his desk. Behind him a vast window overlooked the markets, theatres and gin shops of bustling Covent Garden. The early morning sunshine pushed its way through the grimy window-panes, revealing dust motes floating in the air.

  Townsend scowled and growled out a terse greeting. His gravelly voice and strong accent were as distinctive as his appearance. His own flaxen wig was moth-eaten. How on earth does Prinny stand it? Lavender wondered. The friendship between the fastidious Prince of Wales and portly Bow Street Detective was well-known and had even been lampooned in some of the news-sheets. Up until yesterday, he had always thought that Townsend was a buffoon but relatively harmless. However, the events of yesterday – especially his treatment of Woods – had revealed that the man was dangerous when cornered. He was anything but harmless.

  ‘I’ll come straight to the point, gentlemen,’ Lavender said. ‘The forgery trial at the Old Bailey came to its natural conclusion yesterday and I’m now free to help you in the search for the Prince Regent’s pocket watch. I trust that this is what you were discussing?’

  ‘There’s no need to worry yourself,’ Townsend said quickly. ‘You may depend upon it that some old acquaintance of mine has caused this outrage. T’will not be long before we have the cove slung beneath the hatches of Newgate gaol.’

  Townsend had an extensive network of spies and informants among the criminal underclass, built up over many years. He also had a phenomenal memory for faces and names, acquired from his habit of spending hours in the public gallery at criminal trials making notes about the defendants and listing whom was found guilty and who was acquitted. This diligent approach had been the basis of his success as a detective but Lavender knew that Townsend’s methods had their limitations. The only way to relieve the pressure on Ned and Betsy Woods was to retrieve that damned pocket watch as quickly as possible.

  ‘Suppose that this villain is not one of your “old acquaintances”,’ Lavender said. ‘Constable Woods thought that the snuffer spoke with a strong West Country accent. Suppose the thief has recently arrived in London from Devon or Dorset. What will you do then?’

  Townsend’s face flashed with anger.

  ‘You’ve seen Ned Woods, Stephen?’ Read asked hastily.

  ‘Yes, I called on the family last night. He’s still in a sorry state – and upset that he was tricked by the snuffer.’

  ‘So this is what your interference is really about, eh Lavender?’ Townsend sneered. ‘Your friendship with Woods?’

  ‘I simply want to help.’

  ‘Well, I don’t need your help. And as for that constable; he should be dismissed for his bad attitude. I have just explained to Magistrate Read that we would have caught Little Beau if Woods hadn’t insisted on chasin’ the dwarf alone. The man is a vainglorious cock and wanted the credit for the arrest himself.’

  Lavender said nothing and Townsend turned back to Read. ‘Now we have already got the reward notice printed in the news-sheets, there should be some information soon.’

  ‘Your old acquaintances read the Times, do they?’ Lavender asked. ‘They are literate, are they?’

  Townsend flushed from the base of his thick neck up to the roots of his wild-kempt hair. ‘The word’ll soon get onto the streets about the reward, then every snitch, conk and rogue in town will beat a path to the doors of Bow Street with information about the theft – you mark my words!’

  ‘Yes, I did notice that it was a generous reward. One hundred pounds for a pocket watch. It seems a lot and is bound to attract attention – of one sort or another. Surely the Prince of Wales has several other watches he can use? One hundred pounds would easily buy him a new one, probably several.’

  Townsend and Read exchanged a hurried glance. ‘His Royal Highness is very fond of that particular watch,’ Townsend said slowly. ‘He has a sentimental attachment for it.’

  Lavender sat back in his chair and feigned a calm acceptance of Townsend’s words that he didn’t feel. The two men were keeping something from him. ‘I see,’ he said, ‘and how was he robbed in the first place? Why on earth was the Prince of Wales walking about in such a notorious area?’

  ‘The Prince has had some trouble with reporters this week,’ Read informed him. ‘They follow his carriage and dog his steps every time he comes to London. His Highness had a particular assignation to attend to and had decided to slip on a dark cloak and travel on foot in order to give the reporters the slip.’

  Lavender blinked. How anyone, least of all the overweight and exuberant Prince of Wales, thought he could wander the streets of his father’s capital city without being recognised was beyond him. Prinny was the most caricatured man in the press. Hundreds of thousands of people knew what
the prince looked like. But he was surrounded by fawning sycophants; everyone indulged the Prince his whims and no-one must have had the courage to point out the folly of such behaviour. Lavender didn’t ask about the ‘assignation’. Prinny’s reputation preceded him; no doubt a woman was involved.

  ‘So how did the robbery happen?’ he asked.

  Townsend shuffled uncomfortably on his chair. ‘There were a crowd of them from the Vauxhall Gardens,’ he said. ‘Some of the acrobats were tumblin’ on the street for coppers. His Highness paused for a moment to watch and the next thing we knew that rogue of a dwarf had filched his watch.’

  ‘Did he work alone or was he in league with the other acrobats? Were they all part of the pickpocketing gang?’

  Townsend shrugged his shoulders. ‘’Twere hard to say. Besides which, it’s not them that has the pocket watch. ’Tis that snuffer we need to catch.’

  ‘Have you tracked down and arrested Little Beau?’ he asked.

  Townsend snorted. ‘We tried. Officers were sent straight to the troupe’s lodgings at Vauxhall Gardens but the little whiddler has disappeared. He’s probably been smuggled out into the provinces by now and has joined some tourin’ company.’

  ‘Did you not think to set up some road blocks at the toll gates?’

  ‘What’s the point?’ Townsend snapped. ‘We can’t search every wagon and dray that rolls out of London – and that dwarf is so small he could hide in a pickle barrel.’

  ‘Well, I am more than happy to offer my services in the recovery of the watch,’ Lavender said.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ snapped Townsend, ‘as I’ve said, I don’t need your help.’

  ‘Not so hasty, John,’ said Magistrate Read. ‘It might not be such a bad notion to have Stephen working with you. Cooperation may lead to a quicker result in this instance – and we need a quick result. I’m sure that the Prince would be delighted to hear that not one – but two – of the best detectives from Bow Street were at work on the case.’

  At first Townsend looked like he would protest but Read’s compliment mollified him somewhat. ‘I suppose I could use you,’ he said grudgingly. ‘There’s been a report of a gang of snuffers in the streets around Westminster Palace. Take a trip over to the Westminster Police Office and see if they’ve caught the rogues yet.’

  ‘Constable Woods was quite adamant that the snuffer who stole the pocket watch worked alone,’ Lavender said. ‘And the robbery took place in Piccadilly – not Westminster. I think it would be more help if I visited the establishments of some of our well-known fences and see if any of them have been offered a valuable silver watch in the last twenty-four hours.’

  ‘I’ve already seen to that,’ Townsend said. ‘Many of my old acquaintances are lookin’ out both the watch and the snuffer.’

  ‘Then I shall contact my own network of “acquaintances”.’

  ‘Magistrate Read said you were to work for me!’ Townsend snapped.

  ‘Magistrate Read said I was to work with you – not for you,’ Lavender replied calmly.

  Townsend pushed back his chair angrily and stood up. ‘Well, in that case get on wi’ it! I’ve no more time for dawdlin’ in here over chit chat – I’ve got a snuffer to catch.’ He turned on his heel, stomped across the floorboards and slammed the door behind him as he left.

  Now that he was alone with James Read, Lavender asked the question that had been burning in his mind since the moment he opened his eyes at dawn: ‘You don’t intend to dismiss Ned Woods, do you?’

  Read stared hard at Lavender from beneath his frowning, grey eyebrows. ‘According to Townsend, Woods paid no heed to his instructions and behaved in a reckless manner; he took off after the thief on his own.’

  ‘The other horse had thrown a shoe,’ Lavender said. ‘He’s a horse patrol officer. You know how they care for their animals.’

  Magistrate Read shrugged, picked up a quill and pulled a piece of paper towards him. Lavender sensed that he was about to terminate their meeting. ‘He over-ruled the instructions of a senior officer.’

  ‘If I had a farthing for every time that Ned Woods has put me right over the past twelve years – and proved himself the better officer for doing so – I would be a very wealthy man.’

  Read paused for a moment and twirled the quill above the ink pot. Did the man never blink when he stared? For a moment Lavender felt like a prisoner in the dock of the courtroom downstairs. Even the most hardened criminal would feel nervous caught in that stare from the magisterial bench.

  ‘Your loyalty does you credit, Detective,’ Read said, eventually. ‘But Woods knew that the matter was urgent – and that it was the Prince’s watch. I cannot dismiss Townsend’s complaint lightly.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I shall think about it, Detective. I shall think about it.’

  It was Lavender’s turn to frown; he had hoped for more reassurance. But Read’s tone had taken on a cold formality. He had pushed the matter as far as he could for the moment. He decided to change tack: ‘What is so special about this pocket watch, anyway?’

  The quill now dipped into ink pot. ‘You will understand that when you find it,’ Read said, and added mysteriously: ‘I am relying on your discretion, Stephen. The best thing you can do is to work with Townsend and find this watch quickly.’

  His quill moved across the paper. Despite the distant rumble of traffic and the muted shouts of the hawkers outside in Covent Garden market, Lavender could hear the scratch of the nib.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘but I have two final questions. First, has Townsend considered the possibility that we may not be the only ones in London on the look-out for the thief who has the watch?’

  Read glanced up sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, there is Little Beau and his troupe of thieving picket-pockets for a start. Townsend might have dismissed the idea but I think it sounds like they were working together to distract pedestrians and rob them. They are going to be annoyed that this mysterious snuffer has cheated them out of a valuable prize.

  ‘And by now, the news of the theft and the size of that reward will have spread like a heath-fire to the Seven Dials and the rookery of St. Giles. Most of the scum and tagrag of London will be searching for the thief. I wouldn’t like to be in the snuffer’s boots. A reward of that size is a great incentive for murder. And most of those rogues in the Seven Dials would murder their grandmother for her last farthing – never mind, one hundred pounds.’

  Lavender watched a range of conflicting emotions pass over James Read’s face as he spoke. It was obvious that neither Read nor Townsend had thought out the full implications of this case. ‘Then you had better solve this mystery quickly, Stephen,’ Read said, ‘before anyone else does.’

  Lavender picked up his gloves, stood up and set off across the room.

  ‘And your final question?’ Read called out after him.

  ‘Oh yes.’ Lavender partially turned and spoke over his shoulder. ‘Exactly what does the Prince of Wales see in that former coster-monger and coal merchant? Do you think that Townsend has some kind of hold over him?’

  The corners of Read’s mouth twitched. ‘Well, it’s definitely not John Townsend’s fashion sense that has caught the Prince Regent’s eye,’ he said, dryly.

  Lavender spent a frustrating morning. He tracked down his own informers and alerted them to his search for the West Country thief and the stolen watch.

  ‘So ’ow does ’e sound, this cove?’ one of his regular informants asked. They were talking in a dark alleyway between a tavern and a flesh-shop. The walls of both buildings bulged out with age and dripped with slime. Above them, the over-hanging upper casement windows blocked out most of the light.

  ‘Constable Woods said he spoke like George Deakin, the actor at Drury Lane.’

  His informant shook his shaggy head and stepped away into the shadows. ‘I’ve never seen nor ’eard no play at Drury Lane.’

  Next, Lavender headed for
Piccadilly. He made enquiries at every pawn-shop and jeweller he passed. Had anyone tried to pawn a silver pocket watch or sell one to them? They shook their heads. However, two of them did mention that this wasn’t the first time today that they had been visited by police officers asking the same questions. He and Townsend were obviously covering some of the same ground. He wondered if Townsend had had any luck.

  He was both thirsty and hungry by the time he reached the scene of the crime. The street was busy. Pedestrians and shoppers scurried about their business, indifferent, it seemed, to the drama that had taken place on that spot the previous day. He found the ancient pump and stone water-trough that Woods had described and stared at them, seeking inspiration. He ignored the jostling crowds who stabbed him with sharp elbows and wicker shopping baskets and tried to think. The sunlight sparkled on the smooth surface of the water and each drop that fell into the stagnant pools on the mossy cobbles below glistened like a small diamond.

  If the snuffer was a lone criminal, without any known associates or a previous record for theft, it would be virtually impossible for the Bow Street police and their informants to find him. A man could disappear in that over-crowded city, especially if he was an opportunistic thief and this was first crime. Had the thief seen a chance to make a few guineas out of Woods’ failed attempt to arrest Little Beau, perhaps? Did he watch Little Beau attack Woods with the pocket watch and act on impulse when he snatched the watch for himself?

  He would have had to be desperate to take such a risk. Attacking a Bow Street Officer was guaranteed to bring down the full force of the law on his head, something most Londoners would think twice about. But this man wasn’t a Londoner. He also risked reprisals from the infuriated dwarf and his cronies. Had he recently arrived in the capital perhaps? Was he unused to its ways? His strong accent suggested this.

  An image formed in Lavender’s mind. He pictured the decent, smartly-dressed man from Woods’ description but gave him the crest-fallen expression of a man who had fallen down on his luck. Something had gone wrong; the work he had been promised in the capital had not materialised. Desperate for money, he had turned to crime to ease his poverty and fill his hungry belly. Such a man probably couldn’t afford to travel far. And an inexperienced, impulsive thief might live close to this scene of the crime. He glanced around at the upper storeys of the shops on the streets. Many of them contained rooms for rent.