A Fatal Freedom

by Janet Laurence

  A tiny hall led through an arch into a living room dominated by gold-framed mirrors and couches upholstered in scarlet velvet. A baroque side table was laden with a cold collation. Beside it stood a wine cellar containing several bottles of champagne.

  Awaiting them stood a large, well-dressed man, his grey silk cravat hanging open over a half-buttoned shirt. The man who had opened the door scrambled over to the other side of the room, drawing a checked jacket over a bare chest. Crushing herself against a tallboy, a young woman tried to draw a negligee around her flimsy underwear, but not before Ursula had noticed a nasty bruise on her upper arm. A red mark on her cheek betrayed where the slap had landed. Large eyes were full of tears and blonde hair hung undressed in tangles.

  ‘And what may you be doing disturbing innocent citizens in private premises, may I ask?’ The tall man’s voice was both insolent and confident.

  Ursula saw the girl fix her gaze on Thomas. Her eyes widened and she raised a trembling hand to her mouth. A memory of Thomas saying how Millie had blurted out his assumed name at the Peters’ house came to Ursula. She marched over to the girl, gave her a stern look and said, ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth closed, miss.’

  ‘I have information that prostitution is operating on these premises,’ Thomas said with official solemnity.

  Ursula heard another girl give a little gasp. She was cowering in the corner of a couch. Dressed in a bustier with a tiny tulle skirt barely covering her buttocks, Ursula saw with amazement that black silk stockings sported a sequined and embroidered silver snake that curved round her legs, a hooded head decorating each foot.

  ‘Bee, I told you to make yourself scarce,’ the tall man hissed at her.

  ‘Too late, sir. I’ve seen all I need,’ said Thomas. He marched over to the first girl. ‘Millie Dowd, I arrest you under subsection thirteen of the Criminal Law Amendment Act of 1885 for running a house of ill repute.’ With difficulty he extracted a pair of handcuffs from his trouser pocket and reached for the girl’s hands.

  ‘Sir,’ said Ursula quickly. ‘Miss Dowd needs to clothe herself.’

  ‘She seems to have been happy enough to appear like that in front of these gentlemen. Give her the coat.’

  So that was why he’d wanted her to bring it! With great reluctance, Ursula held it out. After a moment, the girl slipped her arms into the sleeves. It was too big for her but the collar stood up framing her face in an attractive way.

  ‘Now look here …’ the tall man started.

  ‘You cannot arrest Millie, I mean Miss Dowd,’ the smaller man blurted. The girl with the extraordinary stockings was snivelling.

  The tall man held up his cigar in a supercilious manner. ‘As I was saying, before my friend here interrupted …’

  ‘Oh, I say, Hector!’

  ‘No, you do not say, Guy. I am trying to inform this useless hunk of humanity who imagines he has some authority over us, who I am.’ He turned back to Thomas. ‘You are addressing Sir Hector Rutland; the Chief Constable is a good friend of mine and he would be appalled to hear what you are attempting to put over on us this evening.’

  Thomas squared his shoulders, took hold of Millie’s wrists and fastened the cuffs on them. He handled her roughly and Ursula noticed he did not look at the girl.

  The man called Guy tried again. ‘You can’t go behaving like this. Miss Dowd has done nothing against the law.’

  ‘It is against the law for two women to occupy the same premises with the aim of selling their favours. It becomes a brothel,’ said Thomas severely.

  ‘But …’ squawked Bee, raising a tear-stained face.

  ‘Millie Dowd,’ Thomas overrode her. ‘Transport awaits. You will be taken to Marylebone Police Station, where you will be held until tomorrow’s court sits. You can then persuade your case before the magistrate.’

  ‘Hector, do something,’ said Guy.

  ‘Do you intend to arrest us all?’ said Sir Hector. ‘I warn you I shall be sending a note to the Chief Constable first thing in the morning.’

  ‘By all means, sir,’ said Thomas. ‘But it will not be necessary to arrest anyone other than Millie Dowd, since we understand she is the main occupant of the property.’

  ‘It’s outrageous,’ squawked Guy. ‘Do something, Hector,’ he repeated.

  But the tall man leant against the mantelpiece and drew on his cigar. ‘I don’t think there’s anything to be done at this time,’ he drawled. ‘You must fulfil your duty, officer.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Come on, miss. You keep hold of her left arm, Miss Culpepper, and I’ll take the right. Quick march.’

  ‘Don’t think this is the end of the matter,’ Sir Hector said. ‘I’ll be posting bail tomorrow morning and applying to the Chief Constable for your dismissal from the force.’ He moved across, slipped a finger under the girl’s chin and forced her to look him in the face. ‘Millie, you will be back here tomorrow, no doubt a wiser girl.’ The voice was silkily sinister and the girl closed her eyes and whimpered.

  ‘Quick march,’ repeated Thomas stolidly.

  As they left, Sir Hector was heard to say: ‘The bitch needed a lesson and now she’s getting it. I was tiring of her protestations.’

  The door closed behind them and Millie’s whimpering turned to sobbing. Forcing her down the stairs, Ursula and Thomas got her out of the building and into the waiting cab.

  * * *

  The three of them were squeezed tightly together. Millie’s sobbing gave way to a series of shivers as the cabbie called down, ‘Same destination as what you told me, orficer?’

  ‘You have it, cabbie,’ said Thomas. He released the top buttons of his uniform and gave a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that. I’d have expired if I had to spend another minute stuffed into this jacket. He squirmed for room as he tried to access a pocket. ‘Now, then, Millie, hold out your hands.’ She stared at him without moving. It was as though she thought he intended to produce a truncheon and whack her one.

  Ursula lifted the handcuffed wrists and held them out to Thomas. He applied the key. ‘There you are. Now you’re a free woman again.’

  Millie gave a hiccup. ‘You mean, I’m not arrested?’

  ‘Of course not. Didn’t you send me a letter asking to be rescued from your new life?’ His voice was softer now.

  Ursula felt a long shiver run through the girl. ‘And you’re not a policeman?’

  ‘You know I’m not, Millie. I told you, I left the force and these days I’m a private investigator.’

  ‘And not above pretending to be someone what you ain’t!’ From somewhere Millie had found a spark of spirit. She turned to Ursula. ‘And I suppose you don’t work in a prison?’

  ‘She’s an old friend who kindly agreed to help with your rescue.’

  ‘An old friend of his?’ Millie tipped her head towards Thomas. ‘Then I don’t suppose you’re any better than you should be.’

  ‘You should wash your mouth out,’ Thomas said quietly.

  Millie tried to shrink back and tears welled up.

  ‘I’ve led an up and down sort of life,’ Ursula said cheerfully. ‘You’ll learn that, however bad things seem at the time, there can always be a better day around the corner. Look at this evening: you were despairing of getting away from those awful men and, all of sudden, there’s Thomas whisking you off in a hansom, with Hector and Guy, whoever they may be, unable to lift a finger.’

  ‘They’ll be after me, I know they will.’ Millie sounded genuinely afraid. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ said Thomas.

  ‘It had better be somewhere safe.’ Away from Albemarle Mansions, she had perked up amazingly.

  ‘It’s somewhere those pillocks who had you will never think of looking in a lifetime of evil living. What were you thinking of, Millie, setting up store with them?’

  ‘Sir Hector made it all sound so great. He said I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.’

  ‘Friend of
Joshua Peters, was he?’

  She nodded. ‘After the mistress ran away, Mr Peters would ask men friends round of an evening. He’d tell Mrs Firestone to lay out a cold buffet then say the staff needn’t be on duty any more. Except he’d ask me to serve drinks and talk prettily to his friends, like as if I was his hostess.’ Pride was in her voice.

  ‘And you wore your mistress’s gowns?’ suggested Thomas.

  ‘Well, I had to look nice, didn’t I? And she’d left them behind, like she didn’t want them anymore.’ She looked down at her negligee, peeking out from Ursula’s coat. ‘I took them with me. Now, I suppose I’ve lost them.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Anyway, him and me was getting close. He said I knew how to make a man feel good.’ There was a touch of pride in her voice.

  ‘And after Mr Peters died,’ Thomas said. ‘His friend Sir Hector Rutland suggested he would supply you with somewhere to live so you could make him feel good whenever he wanted, did he?’

  ‘Don’t you come the high and mighty with me, Joe Banks, Thomas Jackman, or whatever you call yourself.’ Millie sounded aggrieved. ‘A girl has to look out for herself. Mr Rutland said it was a crime beauty such as mine shouldn’t have the proper setting and that he’d provide me with every luxury.’

  ‘And you understood that that meant becoming his mistress?’ asked Ursula.

  ‘I suppose you’ve never done anything like that! That’s because you haven’t got the looks for it.’

  Ursula couldn’t help being amused at this. ‘When did it all go wrong?’

  ‘Two days after I arrived,’ Millie wailed.

  ‘Up until then it had been all sweetness and light, had it?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘He treated me as though I was special. Said I made him happier than any woman ever had!’

  A cart cut across their path, the cabbie hauled on the reins, the horse neighed loudly and almost reared. Ursula grabbed at the side of the cab to avoid ending on the floor. The cabbie swore at the cart’s driver, who returned some equally salty words. The incident slowly sorted itself out. ‘Sorry folks,’ said the cabbie. ‘Weren’t my fault.’

  As they resumed the journey, Thomas said resignedly, ‘You better tell us what happened.’

  ‘He only brought in Guy, what he said I had to make as happy as I’d made him. Well,’ Millie drew herself up with a quaint dignity. ‘I said if he thought I was that sort of girl, he could think again.’ Suddenly she lost her poise once more. ‘So then he hit me on my arm … and my ribs and … and said he knew exactly what sort of girl I was and if I knew what was good for me, I’d do as I was told.’ Tears poured down her cheeks. ‘And … and after that it was awful. I was locked in and they came and demanded what they said was their right. And that Bee girl told me I had no choice and she’d learned to make the most of it. Do what they wanted, she said, and I’d get what I wanted. What I wanted was to get away from there!’ she ended on a long wail.

  Ursula was thankful that the noise from the road made it unlikely their cabbie could hear anything.

  ‘So that’s when you wrote to me?’ said Thomas.

  Millie nodded. ‘Well, you’d given me that card and said you was an investigator and that if I needed help at any time to let you know. Only you didn’t come!’ Another wail. ‘And I hated what I was asked to do. Bee didn’t seem to mind what went on. Only I did.’ She slumped back, seemingly exhausted.

  Ursula had to feel sorry for the girl. She’d been incredibly foolish and had received bitter coin.

  ‘What’s to become of me?’ Millie whispered despairingly.

  At that moment the cab came to a halt and Thomas climbed down. ‘We’re here,’ he said and held out his hand first to Millie and then to Ursula. She shook out her skirts, looked around and realised that the scene confronting her was familiar. She had seen that carved screen with its amazing animals before, had heard that lazy leonine roar and the bright monkey chatter, and had smelled the earthy animal odours. Then from somewhere she heard the roll of a drum and a crowd gasping in excitement. To the left of the menagerie was a large tent.

  ‘It’s a circus!’ breathed Millie.

  Thomas paid off the cabbie and took Millie’s arm. ‘Come with me, ladies.’

  The ground was rough; Millie cried out several times as she stumbled in her slippers and even Ursula, wearing sensible shoes, had difficulty keeping her balance. Another roar came from inside the tent.

  Once round the back of the circus, Ursula saw a collection of caravans arranged in a circle around a large fire. It made her think of wagon trains drawn up for the night. Were they ready to repel Indians?

  Dusk was drawing in; the soft light blurred the outlines of the buildings beyond the fire, they could be anywhere but in the middle of a bustling city.

  Thomas approached the largest of the caravans, climbed the little flight of steps and knocked on the door. ‘Jackman, Ma,’ he called.

  An oil lamp hung by the door illuminated the scene as a huge woman dressed in a flowing crimson dress patterned with paisley, a turban round her head, emerged from the caravan. ‘Ah, Thomas, Thomas,’ she cried and drew him into a warm embrace. Almost he vanished from sight. ‘Thank you, Ma,’ he said, emerging again.

  Ma gave him an indulgent look, then surveyed the two women. ‘And you bring me someone in need, yes?’

  Thomas leaped down the steps and brought the girl forward. ‘This is Millie, Ma.’

  The woman came down and took hold of her hands. Millie stood nervously as though she feared also being drawn into that vast bosom. From the menagerie came the muffled roar of a lion and she started to tremble, shrinking into the warmth of Ursula’s coat.

  Ma cupped her hand round Millie’s chin and nodded approvingly. ‘Ah, sweet girl. And another one you bring, yes?’ she added, looking at Ursula, her dark eyes bright with curiosity.

  ‘I’m happy to meet you but I’m not in trouble,’ said Ursula.

  Ma climbed back up the steps into the caravan. ‘Come in, my dears. Hungry, are you?’

  Ursula realised that she had had nothing to eat since a roll at lunchtime and that she was indeed in need of food. For the first time she noticed that a slim tin chimney came through the caravan’s roof; smoke emerged from it and the smell of some sort of stew made her mouth water.

  Millie seemed reluctant to enter. She looked at Thomas and reached for his hand. ‘What will happen?’

  ‘We shall eat. And you will be safe.’

  She gave him a wobbly smile then allowed him to lead her up the steps.

  Inside the caravan was all the splendour of the East, with spangled cushions, Turkish carpets and hangings, and beautifully polished brass ornaments arranged with style on a series of shelves. In one corner a gently glowing stove bore a steaming pot. Ma moved over to it and started spooning deliciously smelling meat and vegetables into individual pottery bowls decorated with gaily painted motifs.

  ‘Ma, you’re magic,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Sit, sit,’ ordered Ma, indicating benches lining the caravan, all furnished with soft cushions. A long table ran in front of one of the benches. Ma placed three well-filled bowls on this and provided three spoons. A dark loaf of bread was cut and heavy-looking slices placed beside the bowls. Then she extracted a firkin from beneath one of the benches and poured ale into three tankards. ‘You must enjoy,’ she said and Ursula tried to place her slight accent; probably Eastern European, she decided.

  The stew was subtly spiced and the bread tasted of rye. ‘This is delicious,’ said Ursula gratefully. ‘You are a wonderful cook.’

  ‘I like food,’ said Ma. ‘Food is elixir of life, no?’ She settled herself beside the stove, opposite her guests, and regarded with approval the speed with which the bowls were emptied.

  From outside came the sound of loud applause. ‘Ah,’ said Ma. ‘Circus, it is over. Soon comes Pa.’

  More applause.

  ‘Show must have gone well this evening,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Pa has ideas for new show. W
hen we go to winter grounds, we work on them. You must come, see.’

  ‘You can be sure of that, Ma.’

  ‘Hey, hey!’ came a booming voice and the caravan door opened. In came a moustachioed man that Ursula recognised as the lion-tamer from her first visit to the menagerie. But this time he was dressed in a tail coat over an elaborately embroidered waistcoat and bright red cummerbund. He took off his top hat and threw it on to a bench. ‘Thomas, my Thomas! You came!’

  Thomas rose. ‘We are very grateful, Pa, for your and Ma’s hospitality.’

  ‘My boy, you are welcome. And this,’ he turned to Millie. ‘This is the pretty lady who will stay with us.’

  Millie shot an alarmed glance at the investigator. Ursula could see her thinking that a cooking pan had given way to fire.

  Pa gave a deep, rumbling laugh. ‘No need to look like that, my dear. Thomas tells us you are in deep water and need a safe docking. We offer you one here.’ He patted her cheek. ‘You will be very safe with us.’

  Millie gave a panic-stricken look around the caravan.

  Ma gave her a warm smile. ‘Pa and I, we sleep in back,’ she indicated a door at the rear and Ursula realised that this travelling home had another room. ‘You are happy to sleep here?’ She indicated the bench. ‘We have feather bed for you; very comfortable.’

  Millie looked doubtful.

  Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You have my word that you will be completely safe. No one will abuse you or treat you with anything but courtesy.’

  Millie’s gaze switched between Ma and her ringmaster husband. ‘I have no money,’ she stammered.

  Pa drew himself up till his head almost touched the roof of the caravan. ‘You insult us!’ he boomed out.

  Millie shrank back and suddenly looked exhausted. ‘I … I’m sorry, sir. I … I’m not used to being treated so well. Please, I’m very happy to be here.’ Then she straightened her shoulders. ‘I do not like to be beholden, you see.’ She looked at Ma. ‘Perhaps I can help you in some way?’ She picked up one of the cushions and gently stroked its embroidery. ‘These are so lovely. I cannot do such elaborate work but I am good with the needle otherwise.’