The Barker's Dozen - Reminiscences of an Early Police Dog

by Robert Warr

  Yes, David knew something about the thefts. No, Molly had not taken the cuff links. No, someone had not given them to her. Yes, someone had placed them in her pocket. No, it was not a woman. Yes, he knew the man. At this point, your uncle asked Peter to recite a list of all the men in the house; David nodded violently when he came to Jasper Yorke. My master very precisely framed his next question: Yes, David had seen Jasper put the cuff links into Molly’s apron pocket.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ your uncle mused, ‘this evidence will not stand up in a court. Any reasonably competent lawyer would destroy David’s statement. I will interview the girl and if her story supports David’s we will deal privately with Master Jasper.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lady Gough, ‘I want to avoid any scandal if I can.’

  Lady Gough brought Molly into Peter’s study and my master gently asked the maid to tell him her version of events.

  ‘Well, Sir,’ she began, ‘I don’t want to cause no trouble because I like my job. It all began on Friday night when I was coming back downstairs after sitting with Master David. Young Mr Yorke took hold of my wrist and started pulling me towards his room. I protested and he got angry. I remember he said, “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll have you dismissed from your position.” I wasn’t afraid of him, as Lady Gough is my employer and she wouldn’t pay no heed to the likes of him. He wouldn’t let go and I was about to scream when he heard someone on the stairs and released me. I didn’t think any more of it, as he had been very drunk.

  ‘Yesterday, just after Miss Blanchard went downstairs for her lunch, he entered David’s room. “Well,” he said, grabbing my shoulders, “have you reconsidered?” I told him to release me and he said. “You’ll be dismissed before tonight. Dismissed without a reference you hear?” He then pushed me in the stomach and stormed out.

  ‘David was upset about something, but I just couldn’t understand him. A few minutes later you arrived.’

  My master thanked Molly and asked Lady Gough to take her back to David.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Peter asked my master, ‘I just can’t see any way to avoid a scandal.’

  ‘If I act officially, there will be a scandal,’ your uncle replied. ‘I believe, however, that we can clear this matter up, without undue publicity. I would suggest that you ask your staff to inform you when Yorke is ready to leave. Tell your butler to arrange for Jasper’s bags to be carried in here, rather than outside. Then, you need to search his bags. If he protests I will give him the option of having his luggage examined at a police station.’

  Peter was not at all happy with this idea. It went against his concept of hospitality and was rather ‘underhand’. However, when confronted with the choice between a scandal involving his aunt and embarrassing a potentially innocent man, he chose the lesser of the two evils.

  It came as no real surprise that Jasper announced that he would leave immediately after lunch.

  When the meal was over Peter and my master went into the study. A footman brought in a case and a portmanteau and then left us to wait for Jasper.

  We waited in silence. Both men, I think, would rather have been elsewhere. Eventually the study door opened and the butler ushered Jasper into the room. He took two paces into the room before he saw the men waiting for him with his luggage on the desk. He stopped and for the second time that weekend I saw someone go absolutely white.

  ‘Would you mind opening your portmanteau and showing me the contents?’ Peter asked, ‘if you do not, I will have to ask Inspector Thompson to do it for you.’

  With a certain desperate bravado Jasper complied. At first sight there was nothing out of the ordinary in the bag. However, one of the items that he removed was a tightly rolled shirt that gave a slight clink as it was put down. I barked quietly. When I had everyone’s attention, I reared up and placed my paws on the desk. I gave the package a cursory sniff, as I expected I could detect traces of the victims’ scents. I dropped back to the floor and sat facing my master and barked again.

  Peter reached out and unrolled the bundle. In it there was a bundle of notes and a leather purse containing sovereigns.

  ‘How do you explain this?’ my master asked, slightly coldly.

  ‘I never carry much money in my wallet or pockets when travelling by train.’ Jasper replied with a certain confident bravado, ‘there are rather a lot of petty thieves and pickpockets about.’

  ‘What I meant,’ my master said, his voice now definitely glacial, ‘Is how do you come to have so much money on you, when only two days ago you were attempting to borrow off everyone?’

  ‘I was very lucky at cards last night,’ Jasper returned, he sounded confident but his face reminded me of the rabbit when it had seen me coming.

  ‘In that case I have no doubt that your unlucky fellows will confirm your story,’ your uncle remarked. ‘Their names please?’

  ‘I will not answer any more of your impertinent questions.’ Jasper suddenly shouted, as he started shoving his things back into his case. ‘You have no right to treat me like a servant caught drinking your port. I am leaving now but you can be assured that you have not heard the last of this outrage.’

  ‘You can either answer my questions here,’ my master said quietly. ‘Or if you refuse to co-operate, I will be forced to arrest you. We will then continue this interview at the nearest police station.’

  Jasper’s defiance suddenly collapsed like a bitten ball. He sat down and muttering a minor blasphemy looked anxiously at my master.

  ‘Why did you betray my hospitality?’ Peter said in a low but threatening voice.

  ‘I had no choice,’ Jasper whimpered. ‘When I had bad luck at my gaming club, the proprietor gave me to the end of next week to settle my debts. My Pater refused to give me the money. If I don't pay up, I'll be ruined. I decided yesterday that I would just take what I needed.

  ‘Why did you attempt to pass the blame onto Lady Gough’s maid?’ Peter’s voice had become harder.

  ‘I knew there would be an uproar when you discovered that some money was missing, but I realised that if you had a culprit then you wouldn’t look any further.’ Jasper paused, ‘after all it is better for one of her class to be shamed than one of ours. It’s well known that they don’t have finer feelings like we do.’

  ‘You are lying to me,’ Peter shouted. ‘She refused your advances and you wanted a petty revenge.’

  ‘Yes, I'm sorry.’ Jasper blushed and looked at the floor obviously completely defeated. After a short embarrassed silence he asked in a quiet voice, ‘what happens now? Am I to be arrested?’

  Peter waited until Jasper looked up.

  ‘I want to avoid any unpleasantness. To this end, I am writing to your father describing the events of this weekend. I am certain that your father will pay off your debts to avoid a scandal. I will suggest that he arranges for you to go abroad, for at least five years. If you stay in London I will personally ruin you in polite society.’

  Jasper looked ashen and then nodded. Wordlessly he gathered his property and left.

  -----

  Snuffles stopped speaking and looked at me.

  ‘You mentioned life imprisonment at the start of your story. Did Jasper commit another crime?’

  ‘For a promising pup, you can be rather stupid.’ Snuffles said, with a pitying look. ‘I was referring to David’s condition as life imprisonment. Can you imagine having a mind as alert and sharp as your own but not being able to express your thoughts and desires?

  ‘You have never learnt to read because everyone has always assumed that you are far too stupid to learn. Then you find yourself being treated as either an object or a wilful child. Whenever you protest about your treatment, or even rage at the injustice of it all, you are subjected to brutal treatments for your own good. This goes on every day of your life. No iron bars or stone walls can make as effective a cell as your own skull.

  ‘Your grandchildren will look back on this as a barbarous age, full of suspicion and quackery. I expe
ct that the march of science will lead, a century from now, to a society where people like David are no longer treated as less that human.’

  I saw what Snuffles meant and I thought, rather guiltily, about my own behaviour towards people like David. I decided to change the subject.

  ‘How did you know that I went gambling with Palmer last night?’

  ‘It's all in the nose,’ Snuffles said smugly.

  An Adventure

  An extract from the journal of Miss Isobel Fraser, written for her sister, Lucy, in Boston.

  LUCY, I have just had a most singular and frightening experience. If you can credit the notion, I have had to fight off two unspeakably crude toughs while protecting Inspector Thompson’s Spaniel from harm.

  I had gone, as is my custom, for an afternoon constitutional and since the weather was good chose, to walk through Hyde Park.

  Having found an empty bench with a good view of an ornamental garden, I decided to do a small sketch of the scene for your amusement. While I was engaged in this manner, I became aware of a disturbance that quite shattered the tranquillity of the afternoon.

  Being curious, I stood up and looked towards the source of the noise. I saw two roughs chasing a Spaniel while vociferously, and quite foully, calling upon the dog to stop and imploring bystanders to catch it for them. I must admit there was a certain comic element to the scene that brought a smile to my face.

  Humour quickly changed to concern when I saw that the poor dog seemed to be running on three legs and looked just about plum tuckered out. Suddenly I realised that the dog was Snuffles and I knew that I had to do something.

  ‘Snuffles,’ I called and saw him turn in my direction. You can imagine my consternation when I saw that he had a stick of dynamite clasped in his mouth. This is not an item that you habitually associate with a London park especially not on a pleasant afternoon.

  As soon as he reached me, Snuffles dropped his burden at my feet and I stepped forward so that my skirts covered it. The dog continued round me so that he ended up standing on my right side facing the men and as they closed, he growled in a deep and menacing fashion.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, miss,’ said the first ruffian, reaching for Snuffles’ collar. ‘I’ll just grab me dog and we’ll be away with no more bother.’

  ‘Be gone, you verminous reprobate!’ I cried slapping at his outstretched hand with my furled parasol. ‘This is not your dog!’

  ‘Says you, Missy,’ the second thug joined in. ‘Sean, you seize the dog and if little Miss Yankee doesn’t pipe down and mind her own business, I’ll deal with her proper.’

  As he spoke, he slapped his boot with a stick he was carrying. The implications were obvious. Now I don’t like being threatened, especially by such an odious wretch, so I screamed loudly for help and jabbed with my parasol at the other man, who was once more trying to grab Snuffles.

  The second man swore angrily and swung his stick at my head. Fortunately I saw it coming and managed to twist slightly, so that, rather than connecting solidly with my temple, he hit me a glancing blow to the side of the face. The impact knocked me to the ground and for a second or two I could not fully comprehend my predicament or clearly see my assailants. I did hear, however, a menacing growl followed by a scream and a curse.

  At the same time I felt a hand on my right leg so I kicked out with my left and was rewarded with a grunt of pain.

  When my vision cleared, I saw the man who had struck me dancing around in circles trying to dislodge Snuffles, who was clamped very firmly onto his forearm. The stick, I was pleased to see, was lying on the ground. The other thug was sitting back on his haunches with blood streaming from his nose.

  ‘Damn you,’ he hissed at me, and produced a rather wicked knife from under his coat. ‘I’ll show you what happens when you interfere, sure and I will. I’ll do for both you and the dog.’

  Things were looking quite desperate, so I screamed again, praying there was someone in the park who would help me. I needn’t have worried: at that moment I heard a man shout and then the sound of a horse galloping towards me.

  The dog must have been distracted by the shout, because the first thug managed to throw him off and, pausing only long enough to snatch up his stick, ran like a frightened rabbit towards a stand of trees.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you later, Missy,’ my would-be assassin snarled before racing off towards the park gates and the busy road.

  I was just preparing to rise to my feet when a most beautiful black horse came to a halt by me. The rider, an immaculately turned out young officer from one of the cavalry regiments, dismounted with a dexterity which I would have believed impossible in such tightly cut riding breeches and offered me a hand.

  ‘I say, Miss, are you all right? I saw your predicament so shouted to get the bounders’ attention and then charged old Shelton here to your rescue. I’m dashed annoyed that they ran like that because they looked as though they needed a damn good thrashing.’ This paladin then had the decency to blush slightly and continued in a slightly less energetic tone, ‘I am so terribly sorry, Miss; I do hope you will forgive my language. I got somewhat carried away, don’t you know.’

  My rescuer grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me quite unceremoniously to my feet. Releasing me, he stepped back and gave me an appraising look; it may just be my feminine vanity, but I do declare that he was quite taken with me.

  This modern Galahad smiled and sketched a small bow. ‘I know that we have not been properly introduced, but as these are special circumstances, Lieutenant Reginald Vaughn at your service.’

  Good manners dictated that I return the compliment in as pretty a fashion as I could muster, as these Europeans are just so courtly. Accordingly, I made my best curtsy and told him my name. I must say that my opinion of the man then dropped quite badly because he was staring at my ankles. I had heard of the licentious nature of the British Army but I had expected gentlemanly conduct from an officer.

  I was just about to upbraid him when he muttered another curse and stooped down. I was drawing in my breath to scream when he straightened up with the stick of dynamite in his hand.

  ‘Oh I say, dynamite,’ he said somewhat unnecessarily. ‘Did one of those thugs drop this, Miss Fraser?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied, although it wasn’t strictly true: I thought that explaining how an acquaintance’s Spaniel had dropped it at my feet would probably take far too long.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said, turning towards his horse and gathering its reins into one hand, ‘I really do think I should see if I can run one of your assailants to earth.’

  With that, he reached up to hold the saddle so that he could mount, and finding his hand encumbered with the dynamite, he tossed it at me with the request that I give it to a policeman.

  As he rode off Snuffles nudged against me and whined slightly, bringing me back to my senses. As I was close to Aunt Mary’s house, I decided to go straight there and ask her to accompany me to the nearest police station.

  That proved to be a very good idea, as that redoubtable old lady refused to let me go to the police but sent a telegram to Scotland Yard summoning her nephew. After all, as it was his dog that had somehow precipitated my adventure, it seemed only right that he should become involved.

  While we were waiting for Inspector Thompson to arrive, we examined Snuffles and I was gratified to learn that, although he seemed to have been hit or kicked on the right hip and was in some discomfort there was no serious injury.

  I have only seen Inspector Thompson when he has been off duty and had formed the impression of a quiet, rather sad man; on duty he is totally different. I must have recounted my story five times before he was satisfied. Each time, however, he asked me gentle questions and I found myself remembering more details about my assailants.

  I was not sorry when he eventually left, taking Snuffles with him, and Aunt Mary suggested a light supper followed by an early night.

  The Case of the Laudanumed Labrador

  ‘JAME
S, have you heard about your cousin Isobel’s misadventure in Hyde Park?’ my uncle asked me, passing the port decanter.

  Indeed not,’ I replied. ‘I only returned to London this afternoon after a fortnight in Plymouth. As you waited until now before raising the matter, I assume that she was not hurt.’

  ‘She was shaken, rather scared but only bruised,’ he answered, fishing his cigar case from his pocket. ‘I was summoned by Aunt Mary and found myself interviewing Isobel soon after the events. I would be interested in your comments.’

  The great man was silent for a few moments as he lit his cigar. Once it was burning to his satisfaction he lent back in his chair and began his account.

  ‘Two days ago your cousin went for an afternoon walk in the park and, finding the weather agreeable, sat down to sketch one of the ornamental gardens.

  ‘While she was sketching, she was distracted by a commotion; looking up she saw what she described as two rough men, labourers of some kind, chasing a Spaniel through the park.

  ‘The sight had, she told me, a certain comical quality, as the men were floundering along in the dog’s wake, alternately imploring the good dog to stop and then threatening it most vilely. The humour faded when she realised that the dog was limping quite badly and was obviously very tired. Not only that, but she thought it was Snuffles.’

  ‘Snuffles? What was he doing there?’ I interjected, glancing at my confidant where he was collapsed in front of the hearth. He slowly opened both eyes on hearing his name, looked fondly at his master and twitched his tail.

  ‘I only wish I knew,’ my uncle continued. ‘We were visiting one of the stations in that area when he suddenly took off. One of the constables pursued him but had to give up after he collided with a barrow.’ My uncle sighed. ‘If only he could talk, James, I would be able to ask him that very question.’

  Seeing that I was looking at him, Snuffles slowly winked and then sank comfortably back into his nap.