by Jane Charles
They escorted him down dark stairs and into the bowels of Newgate. It was damp and reeked of body odor, decay and piss. Men shouted from cells from all around him. Panic rose within his breast. He tried to concentrate on breathing but his chest was too tight. This was not happening to him. This couldn’t be.
They stopped before an empty cell. One of the gentlemen unlocked and opened the door and the other shoved Jordan inside. The metal clanged shut behind him and Jordan was left alone.
“What did you do?”
Jordan turned toward the quiet voice coming from the cell to his left. “Nothing.”
“That is what I tried to tell them too.”
He walked closer to see the man better. But it wasn’t a man. The lad couldn’t be over sixteen, if that. His face was dirty and large frightened eyes stared back at Jordan.
“Did you?” Doesn’t every man claim to be innocent? Even the guilty ones?
“No.” Tears welled in the boys eyes and he blinked them away then wiped the snot from his nose on his filthy sleeve. “I loved me mum.”
Jordan believed him. He didn’t know why but he did. “Who killed her?” Assuming that is what the lad meant by having loved his mother.
“My uncle. He was wanting a tumble and mum wouldn’t let him.”
No woman was safe. Some not even from family members.
“You saw him?”
“Backhanded her, he did. Mum fell backwards and split her head open on the bricks of the fireplace.” Tears welled in his eyes again and the young man’s chin trembled.
“Did anyone else see it?”
He shook his head. “When the Runner got there my uncle said I had pushed her. I told them differently but they believed me uncle over me.”
“When is your trial?” Jordan had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The boy was too young to hang and innocent of the crime.
“Already done.” He hung his head.
“Were you sentenced? Jordan was almost afraid to ask what the outcome would be.
“I won’t hang.” His tone was low and depressed. “I’m to rot in here.”
The injustices of the criminal courts were not lost on Jordan and perhaps that is what he feared the most. Rarely did a man walk free after being locked away in here. Some served their sentence and others either died waiting or were hung. This lad was too young to face such a life. His life hadn’t really even begun. The boy before him was the reason he wanted to be involved with criminal cases, to see that the innocent were not locked away.
“Why don’t you tell me everything that happened and I will see how I can help you.”
“How are you going to help me? You’re locked up too.”
He did have a point and Jordan chuckled. But, he would not remain in here. If he wasn’t freed, he would find a way to escape. But the best thing that would keep him from going mad at this moment was the boy before him. He would think about his case and determine what he could do to help instead of panicking over his own situation.
As the young man began to speak those in the cells around them moved forward to hear.
“That nabob ain’t gonna help you,” someone yelled from a few cells away.
Jordan shot the man a look before nodding to the young man to continue.
“What is your name,” Jordan finally asked.
“Thain Abbott, sir.”
“I am Jordan Trent.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Jordan wasn’t sure how pleasing it actually was given their current situation.
“What is your uncle’s name?”
“Ulger Abbott.” Jordan nodded and committed the name to memory.
“If you are going to help him,” the man in the cell began only to be cut off by someone else.
“He ain’t gonna be able to help anyone,” the person called. “He killed two gents and will probably hang before the month is out.”
Jordan swallowed, finding it difficult. He chose to ignore the man who just predicted the end of his life and instead focused of the one across from him. “Are you innocent as well?”
And so the questioning began. They each had their own story and proclaimed their innocence and as each convict finished, Jordan was convinced half of them were innocent of the crimes they were charged with. It only reinforced his desire to be part of the criminal court. Innocent men, women and children should not be found guilty. Those around him were uneducated and poor. He would be willing to bet none of them could read and probably barely wrote their own name. No wonder they had not been able to defend themselves at their trials. They probably didn’t understand half of what was happening around them. Worse, they weren’t even allowed to have a lawyer or barrister help them. No wonder so many innocent people were found guilty. They were too ignorant of the law to defend themselves.
“Trent,” a guard called and stopped at the door to his cell. The man fit the key into the lock and opened.
“Thank God.”
“You ain’t free,” the jailer clarified.
“What?” Why was he being let out? Were there to be more questions?
“Your brother has paid a nice sum to see you moved to better quarters.”
“He will forget about all of you once he is gone,” someone called from further down.
“No, I will not,” Jordan said with determination as he stepped into the hall.
The guard grasped him by the arm and led him down the row between cells then up two flights of stairs and down another corridor, stopping at a final cell. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Ya got new bedding, desk and pisspot.”
“And a window.” Jordan entered and looked out the small opening just above his eyes to the dark sky.
The jailer held up his lantern. “Ya got candles and flint.” Jordan had already noticed them on the desk. “And he left paper and pencils”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Ya got rich relatives that paid well for you to have these comforts.”
Jordan would forever be indebted to Clayton for seeing that he was taken care of. Knowing that his brothers were probably working for his release gave Jordan some sense of relief.
The door clanged shut and Jordan jerked. Those in the cells around him had similar comforts and though it was a little cleaner up here, the stench rose from below, filling his nostrils. Would he ever be rid of it after he left this place?
If he left this place.
Jordan didn’t allow himself to think further. He would be released. He was not guilty of the crimes. But neither were half the men below him. But Jordan had one thing they did not: An education and he knew the law.
He pulled out the chair and settled down at the desk and began to write about each person he had spoken to. After he was free of here he would see to their freedom as well. At least it gave him something to think about besides his own plight.
The ladies startled when the door opened long after sunset and the three brothers and Lord Brachton walked into the parlor. Audrey continued to watch the door. Where was Jordan?
Each lady came to their feet, focusing on Bentley, the head of the family.
“He has been charged with the murders of Dalton and Everton,” he announced.
“No,” Audrey cried.
“That is not the end of it either,” John announced as he crossed the room and took his wife’s hand. “He has also been charged with the attacks on Lady Rothsbury and Angelique.” John’s cheeks flushed and he looked away from Audrey.
“I am aware of who Angelique is,” she assured them. Though she was not pleased with the association she knew their former relationship had been over a long time ago.
“We’ve made sure he is being made as comfortable as possible in that hell,” Bentley assured them.
“Cook will prepare a basket and one of the footmen will deliver it each day. I don’t want Jordan to have to eat the slop they call food,” Matthew announced.
“Tomorrow, we will investigate and see what we can do a
bout finding the evidence needed to free him,” John said.
“What of visitors?” Audrey asked.
All four gentlemen looked at her. It was Matthew who spoke. “You should not go there. It is no place for a lady.”
“Jordan would not want it, I can assure you,” Bentley added.
How did they know what he would want or not want and she wasn’t some fine lady who swooned at a slight inconvenience?
“Trust us in this,” John added.
Audrey bit her bottom lip and studied the gentlemen. They each watched her with concern and perhaps pity. She gave a quick shake of her head to let them know she understood. Tomorrow she would discuss it again. They were all tired at the moment and it wasn’t as if she could call on Jordan tonight.
She rubbed her temples, wishing the tightness would ease. Call on him? She nearly laughed. It wasn’t as if she were going to show up to have a pleasant conversation over tea. Jordan was incarcerated in Newgate and from what she had heard from others, the only difference between it and hell was the lack of heat.
“We should leave,” Bentley announced. “We need to get an early start tomorrow and talk to as many people as we can. There must be witnesses that saw something or at least saw Jordan when the crimes were being committed.”
It was a good plan and Audrey was so grateful Jordan had such an influential family supporting him.
She made her excuses and retired to her room when Jordan’s family departed. She had spent the better part of five hours with his sisters-in-laws and Madeline. Audrey needed to be alone to think.
Out of habit, she prepared herself for bed by putting on her gown, washing and then brushing her hair. She lay between the cool sheets and stared up at the ceiling. They had to save Jordan. They must.
It was a fitful sleep and not because of the unfamiliar bed but because she kept dreaming of Jordan, locked away behind bars like an animal in menagerie. Was he shackled to the wall, not allowed to walk about? Each image became worse and she finally threw off the blankets as the sun was rising.
She had to do something to help him, but what?
Four hours later she had a complete list of potential witnesses to help Jordan as well as an outline of his movements on the dates of the incidents, as she knew them. There were glaring holes since she didn’t know where he was every moment of the day and only knew of some places because he had told her. But she trusted him. He would not kill anyone or hurt the women. Couldn’t they understand that? She had to make them understand.
“I must visit Bow Street,” Audrey announced to Grace and Matthew while they broke their fast. The food on her plate was mostly untouched. Her stomach was tight and a bit upset and Audrey was only able to nibble on a piece of toast and sip her tea, too afraid that if she ate anything more she would be heaving over the chamber pot.
“I don’t think that is necessary,” Grace assured her.
“We are doing everything that we can to free him,” Matthew added.
“But I can’t just sit here waiting.”
Sympathy shone in their eyes. Neither one of them looked any better than she felt. There were smudges of dark beneath their eyes and Matthew’s face was more drawn. When they first met he was a serious man, stern even. Today he looked tired and worn. None of them had slept well last night. Had Jordan been able to sleep at all?
“I have to try,” Audrey said a moment later, her eyes misting. She blinked quickly. She would not cry in front of them. She had to be stronger than this.
“I’ll go with you,” Grace said.
“Thank you.”
Jordan sat up and stretched, surprised he had slept at all, though it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. He had worked long into the night, writing down everything he remembered from the men he had spoken to the night before. He had a list of wrongs he had to make right and it gave him something to focus on other than his own predicament. On the small desk was a stack of paper, each sheet dedicated to one individual case. He stood and walked over, sifting through them. Now that he had written down everything about the cases, he needed to make a list of people to question and all the steps he needed to take to prove that the men were innocent and hopefully see them freed. Half had not even had a trial yet, some were waiting transport and a few others would be left to rot here. At least he didn’t have the urgency of someone faced with the gallows because he didn’t know how long he would be stuck in here and his first priority after he was released was to see that those men were as well.
“Trent,” the jailer called as he stopped in front of his cell. He opened the door and placed a basket on the floor. “You must have some rich family to be able to afford this.”
Jordan glanced at the basket and his stomach rumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to eat the moldy bread and rancid water Newgate claimed to be an evening meal. It still sat on the floor, nibbled on by rats and mice that emerged during the dark hours.
“You’ve also got a visitor.”
Thank goodness, he needed to see and speak with at least one of his brothers.
“Fancy lady that goes by the name Lydell.”
His appetite disappeared and bitterness filled him. Why was she here? Hadn’t he been clear yesterday in his brother’s parlor? “I don’t want to see her.”
The jailer crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “Are you sure? For the right price you can be alone with her. It gets awful lonely in here.”
He would become a monk before he even kissed Lady Lydell, let alone do anything else.
What if Audrey got it in her head to visit? The idea sickened him. He didn’t want her anywhere near this place and he didn’t want the smell or filth to touch any part of her and he certainly didn’t want her to see him like this. Nor his sister, Madeline, or sisters-in-law. Anyone of them could decide they needed to visit and he couldn’t have that. “I don’t want to see any ladies, females, women or anyone of that gender,” making it very clear that he wanted no women here because he didn’t put it above Elizabeth to don a disguise. She had worn one most of her adult life.
The jailer shrugged, and shook his head as he walked away.
Jordan made his way to the basket and picked it up off the floor and placed it on the desk. He wasn’t going to risk the vermin getting to it before he did. Inside was two bottles of wine, a jug of water, loaf of fresh bread, still warm from the oven, cheeses, fruit and cold meats. He ate the meat first because he didn’t want it to spoil and tore off a piece of bread. He would save the rest for later. There was enough food to last him a day or two and Jordan planned on making it last as long as possible so that he didn’t have to eat the slop they tried to pass off as food in this place.
Jordan wished it was one of his brothers who had come to visit. But he didn’t need to be assured that they were working on freeing him. They would not rest until he was home.
“It is not possible that Jordan Trent killed Mr. Dalton and Mr. Everton, or hurt those women,” Audrey appealed to the investigator at the Bow Street office.
“Do you have proof?” Mr. Wesby asked.
Audrey leaned forward and pressed her hands against his desk. She had to make this man understand. “I know it was impossible.”
“Unless you can account for his presence at each time a crime was committed there is nothing we can do.”
She bit her bottom lip. During each event Jordan had not been with her. Oh, she wished he had been, even though Dalton was killed in the middle of the night. She would rather her reputation was destroyed than have Jordan condemned.
“Besides, there was already a lady here claiming that Trent was with her during all four occurrences.”
A lady? “Who?”
The investigator grinned. “Lady Lydell. She assures me that it was impossible for Mr. Trent to have committed those acts because they were together.” His gaze narrowed on her.
Her face heated at his insinuation. “That is simply not true.”
Wesby tilted his head to study her. “You know this for certain?”
The problem was, she didn’t. Millicent constantly insisted that Jordan belonged to her yet he denied her claims. One was not telling the truth. Doubt began to sink in, but Audrey shook it away. She trusted Jordan and she would not let Millicent’s claims alter her beliefs. “Jordan Trent is not involved in a relationship with Lady Lydell. She wishes it but it is not true.”
“We surmised as much,” the investigator confirmed and relaxed back in her seat. “Her story didn’t match what we do know.”
“This is a travesty,” a female voice cried from beyond the closed door.
“He did not attack me,” another woman yelled.
Wesby frowned toward the closed door. Audrey turned to look. Not that she could see anything since it was a solid wood door, though not solid enough for the voices not to carry through.
“Mr. Wesby is busy questioning a witness,” a deep voice said.
“I will not wait a moment longer.”
“Neither will I.”
Before Audrey could determine which voice said what, the handle turned and the door was flung open. Two ladies entered, both wearing veils but Audrey could see the hint of bandages beneath each. One lady she recognized to be Lady Rothsbury so the other must be Angelique. She strained to see the features through the dark material but it was difficult to make out the details in this poor lighting other than the woman had high cheekbones and full lips. Did she really want to know how beautiful the woman was?
Wesby stood at their entrance as did Audrey.
A young Runner rushed in. “I am sorry sir. I tried to stop them.”
Wesby heaved a sigh. “It is all right, Tate.” He gestured to the door. “Leave us and close the door behind you.” The man turned to do so. “Tate,” Wesby called out. “If any other ladies show up to defend Trent, have them wait, in a line if necessary.”
Goodness, would there be more. How many ladies were willing to risk their reputation to save Jordan?