by Anna King
Leaning over her he did something he never thought he would: he kissed Agnes on the forehead, and the gesture was made with true affection and gratitude.
At that moment the doctor entered the room followed by John Smith. ‘The policeman on guard said he thought he heard voices. Has she come round?’
Ted stood up, his hand still holding Agnes’. ‘Yeah, she did. But she didn’t make much sense. Still, it’s a good sign, ain’t it?’ The hand in his relaxed as Agnes, drifting back into sleep, realised Ted had understood her message.
John looked Ted straight in the eye. ‘You sure she didn’t say anything – like where we could find Stokes?’
Ted shook his head. ‘Nah! Sorry, Officer. Like I said, she didn’t make much sense. I couldn’t understand what she was trying ter say.’ Adopting a casual manner he grinned saying, ‘Anyway I gotta get off, I’ve got a business ter run – see ya.’
John Smith watched Ted go, a quizzical look in his eyes. Then he shrugged. If Ted was up to something, as an officer of the law maybe it was best he didn’t know about it.
* * *
Kenneth Stokes lay on the mattress, his face and body contorted in agony, leaving him as helpless as a newborn baby. Yet despite the pain and fever that racked his body, his mind remained crystal clear, trying desperately to understand what was happening to him.
He remembered cleaning and changing his bandage, and drinking a bottle of brandy while listening to the heavy boots pounding above him. He had fallen asleep and woken up to find his injured hand formed into a rigid clench he had no control over. When he had tried to rise from the mattress he had felt unwell accompanied by fleeting pains in his back. Putting the symptoms down to the likelihood his wound had become infected, he had struggled to change the dressing, but even that relatively simple task had proved difficult. He didn’t know if he had passed out or simply fallen asleep afterwards, but when he awoke he found himself drenched in sweat.
Reaching for a jug of water he’d put by his side he tried to sit up but found each movement tortuous. But he truly became alarmed when, after managing to pour himself a drink, he found it difficult to swallow. He had slept again, his only notion of time being his fob watch, and even this was denied him as he couldn’t control his good hand to light the lamp on the table by his bed. Still, he put his illness down to a severe cold, made worse by the infection in his hand.
But on the fourth day he awoke to find his jaw, which had begun to feel stiff, had worsened to such an extent that his teeth were clenched together so tightly he could barely open his mouth. Then the spasms had started, and Stokes could lie to himself no longer. He’d always prided himself on being an intellectual man, a man who had continued to further his education even after he’d left the hallowed halls of Eton. One of his favourite pastimes was reading up on medical matters, a knowledge that had often come into use when trying to inveigle his way into the homes of ignorant parents, who were only too pleased to have a nice, generous doctor who seemed happy to help their sick children for no recompense. Now that knowledge was striking terror into the very fibre of his being.
Lockjaw.
Another spasm struck, causing the upper part of his body to arch painfully, quickly accompanied by a sudden increased pressure on his clenched teeth. When it was over Kenneth lay back sweating in pain and fear. He knew another spasm could kill him, and there was nothing he could do to help himself.
Damn that slut. If she had handed over Molly, none of this would have happened. It wasn’t him that had picked up the knife. He’d had no choice but to protect himself and had been stabbed in the process. Even then he might have been all right if that other old hag hadn’t rubbed the wounded hand in the dirt. The flimsy bandage hadn’t been thick enough to stop the dirt from penetrating through the inadequate covering. That’s what had done it, he was sure. Damn them both to hell.
Then he heard footsteps overhead, and a spark of hope leapt into his eyes. He no longer cared if he was caught. He had enough money to buy the best lawyers. If by some miracle the Knight woman was still alive, he could plead self-defence, and the same went for Agnes Handly. Oh! What did it matter? As long as he was found and received medical attention.
There was still time – surely there was still time!
But would whoever was in the hut find the trap door? The fear came flooding back. No one would ever find him unless they knew where to look, he’d made sure of that. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of the trap door opening.
* * *
Ted walked slowly around the small hut, his sharp eyes fixed firmly on the wooden floor. He had looked under the three rugs and the wide strip of carpet in the largest room, but had found nothing. Now he was beginning to wonder if Agnes’ mind had been turned by the experience she had gone through. Yet she had seemed so sure. Sinking down onto a chair he thought carefully. He’d bet that Agnes’ mind was as sane as his, and if that was the case then somewhere in these small rooms a trap door lay hidden. His eyes fixed on the floor, he stared again at the strip of carpet. He’d already looked under it once, but knowing the man Stokes, he would be careful to make sure his secret hideaway wouldn’t be easily found, if there was one. Getting down on his knees he looked again under the carpet, sighing and feeling he was wasting his time in going over the same ground, but he was here now and he might as well be thorough. It was tacked down in each corner but the carpet was loose and easy to look under. This time Ted ran his hand over the floorboards beneath but found nothing out of the ordinary. Leaning back on his heels Ted nipped at his bottom lip in disappointment. Nothing, absolutely nothing.
He was about to leave when he remembered Agnes’ words, the desperate look in her eyes, and the surprisingly firm grip on his hand when the doctor and John Smith had entered the room. Muttering ‘Oh, the hell with it,’ he got down on his knees. If he had to crawl over the entire floor on his hands and knees and look at every floorboard, then that’s what he would do: he owed Agnes that much. For a start he’d have that carpet up. There was nothing under it, he’d already checked, but it wouldn’t do any harm to have a closer look. Not having any tool to take out the nails that were holding the carpet in place, he pulled at the rough material with both hands and was rewarded with a sudden tearing of the frayed material. Pulling the carpet back he looked at the wooden flooring. With the floor bare, Ted ran his hand again over the surface the wood, not expecting to find anything but feeling impelled to do his best before returning to Agnes. Running his hand in the opposite direction he felt a slight, almost imperceptible groove in the flooring.
Telling himself not to get his hopes up, nonetheless Ted couldn’t stop a growing feeling of excitement mounting. On closer inspection he saw what looked like a wooden plug blocking a circular hole. Hardly daring to breathe Ted poked the plug with his finger then leant back as the plug fell away to reveal a hole. His excitement mounting Ted hooked his finger through the hole and pulled, then fell back as a large square of the flooring gave way. Ted had to restrain himself from shouting his glee out loud. Even though it was light outside, the area below the hut was cloaked in darkness.
Getting to his feet Ted quickly found a gas lamp, then there followed a frustrating search for something to light it with. Then he found a box of matches in the empty grate. Gingerly descending the ladder Ted started to wonder what he was getting so excited about. All right, so he’d found out where Stokes had kept Molly, and maybe others, but it was obvious by the darkness that the man he was looking for had long gone. His initial euphoria subsiding, Ted continued further down, then he let out a muffled shout as an overpowering stench hit his nostrils.
‘Bleeding ’ell!’ He stopped halfway down the ladder, undecided whether or not to investigate further, then he heard a peculiar sound coming from below. The unfamiliar noise reminded Ted of an animal grunting, and without thinking he made his way down to the bottom of the ladder. Holding his jacket over his nose Ted waved the lamp around the gloomy underground room, noting the items of fur
niture here were of much better quality than that above. He turned, the lamp lighting up the room, then gasped out loud as the light centred on the mattress, and the grotesque figure lying on it. Surprised and shocked, Ted inched nearer the bed, holding the lamp high so he could see better. And what he saw appalled him.
The man lay in obvious agony, his torso raised from the mattress, his head at an unnatural angle. But it was his face that shocked Ted the most, in particular the lips that were stretched wide over clenched teeth, giving the appearance of a mirthless, unnatural grin.
As if in a trance Ted approached the contorted body, his own face solemn. The stench was emanating from the incapacitated man, but such was Ted’s shock at finding him here, he no longer noticed the rank, unpleasant smell.
‘Are you Stokes?’ Ted spoke in a clipped, brusque voice, even though he already knew the answer, if only by the quality of the man’s clothing, now fouled but still that of a man of means. Besides, who else could it be? But he had to be sure.
With apparent agony the man tried to speak through his rigid, clenched teeth. ‘Yeees… He— help me. Pl— please…’
Ted remained still, his face expressionless and Kenneth felt a moment of relief. Someone had found him. It didn’t matter what the law would do to him, at least he’d be alive. Then he looked up into the stranger’s eyes, and what he saw reflected there killed any hope of redemption.
Ted lowered the lamp and pulled a chair nearer the double bed and sat down. ‘So you’re the scum that snatched young Molly, an’ Gawd knows ’ow many other poor little cows. Not ter mention murdering Lily Knight an’ her unborn baby, just so yer could get yer ’ands on an innocent little girl. An’ yer really think I’m gonna ’elp yer? You must be fucking mad.’ Ted rose abruptly. Standing over the man he had grown to hate, Ted was about to speak further when Stokes’ body went into another, more violent spasm, the suddenness causing Ted to stagger away from the twitching form. He waited until the spasm was over then, for the last time, looked down at the man who had caused so much pain and misery and said in a voice filled with deep loathing, ‘Die, you bastard. And die hard, ’cos it’s no more than a piece of filth like you deserves.’
Then he turned and climbed back up the ladder, aware that Stokes’ eyes were following him with silent pleading. But Ted didn’t hesitate. Stepping off the last rung of the ladder he closed the trap door, pulled the ripped carpet back into place, turned out the lamp and left the hut.
He never looked back.
* * *
Left once again in the darkness Kenneth knew he was going to die. Yet not for one moment did he think to ask forgiveness for his dreadful sins. For in his eyes, he had done nothing wrong. Another spasm attacked his weakened body, the first of many before he finally died, choking on his own tongue. And his death was exactly that which Ted had wished on him. For Kenneth Stokes took a long time to die.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The children were asleep. Ted had left reluctantly, by Ellen’s wishes, leaving her alone with Arthur and the children. It was ten o’clock and Ellen could hardly believe all that had happened during the last five days. Cautiously she lifted the net curtain and peered down into the street, then quickly let the curtain drop.
‘Still out there, are they, love?’ Arthur had entered the room with two mugs of cocoa in his hands.
Ellen smiled tiredly. ‘Just a few. Journalists, I expect. I feel sorry for them in a way. After all, they are only trying to make a living.’ Taking one of the mugs she added, ‘I don’t think I’ll need any rocking tonight. I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.’
Arthur grunted in reply. ‘Me neither. It’s a pity we couldn’t find that pervert though. For all we know he might have snatched some other child while we were chasing round in circles in the forest. God! I hope not. Mind you, it was a miracle the hut was found at all, the way it was situated. Johnny reckons Stokes must have mingled with the search party. There’s no other way he could have got out of those woods because, don’t forget, only Johnny and a few of the older police officers know what Stokes looks like. I don’t blame the police for calling off the search. It was obvious after the third day that the man was long gone. At least we got Molly back, and in time, according to the doctor, so that’s something to be thankful for.’
Ellen smiled over the top of her mug. ‘Yes, indeed that is something to be thankful for. To be honest I’d begun to think the worst, but Micky never gave up hope.’
An awkward silence descended on them until Arthur coughed and said, ‘We should talk about the future, Ellen. I know you’re worried about hurting me, but I brought it on myself, and now it’s time to make amends.’
‘Really, Arthur, there’s no rush. It’s barely been a week since Molly was found, and we’ve hardly had time to catch our breath.’
Arthur shook his head and, in a resigned voice, said, ‘The longer we put things off, the harder it’s going to be. Ted’s already becoming impatient, and I can’t say as I blame him. By the way…’ He paused uncomfortably, shifting in his chair before continuing. ‘I expect you’ve told Ted about that night, not that I’m blaming you, I’d just like to know when to expect a thrashing.’
Her face flushed, Ellen replied quietly, ‘I told him we’d been together once, but that we’d both known it was a mistake, and decided to carry on as we had before, in a platonic relationship. Ted agreed that that part of our marriage would be best left between the three of us, so you needn’t worry on that score.’
Arthur gave a nervous laugh. ‘Well, that’s a relief I must say. Now look, Ellen, I know you’re tired, we both are, but as I said before, we need to talk. I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days and I’ve come to a decision.’ Reaching out he took hold of her hand. ‘I’m leaving the East End… No, don’t stop me,’ he added as Ellen made to speak. ‘Like I said, I’ve had a lot of time to think things over and I believe it’s best for all of us if I leave.’ Looking into Ellen’s shocked face Arthur saw something else mirrored in her eyes – relief. Arthur lowered his gaze for a moment so that Ellen wouldn’t see the pain his words were costing him. A brisk note entered his voice as he went on. ‘What I propose to do is leave you the business, and set up somewhere else.’ Fumbling in his pocket he brought out a crumpled letter. ‘This came a couple of days ago. I would have told you, but with all the commotion going on, it went completely out of my head.’ Unfolding the paper he said, ‘It’s from Mr Bradley, you remember, the couple we met in Southend,’ he said as Ellen looked puzzled.
‘Oh, oh yes, of course, I remember. What does he have to say? Not bad news I hope?’
‘No, no, far from it. He wrote that he and his wife were sorry we had to cut our holiday short, and he’s invited us down to stay with them in Chislehurst, when it’s convenient. I didn’t pay it much attention at first, but now it would be the perfect answer. It will give me the chance to get away. I’ve already written back explaining the situation and now I’m waiting for a reply. Of course they may take back the invitation when they realise it’ll only be me for company.’ He laughed self-consciously. ‘But I hope not. I was planning to go away, but I wasn’t relishing the notion of going somewhere strange by myself.’
He fell silent and his silence brought a wash of guilt over Ellen. But before she could say anything Arthur got up abruptly. ‘To be brutally honest, the fact is I just haven’t the gumption to stay around once you and Ted become common knowledge. I’ve been the butt of too many jokes in my life, and I’m tired of them. I know it will look like I’m running away, which I am, but I’d rather they all had a good laugh at my expense when I’m well out of earshot. At least then I’ll be able to salvage a bit of pride.’
Ellen didn’t know what to say. All Arthur had said made sense, but it wasn’t fair to expect him to leave his business and home when in essence he’d done nothing wrong. Yet it would solve a lot of worries if Arthur was no longer around. The selfish notion bowed Ellen’s head in shame.
‘I’ll
give it a week, then, if I don’t hear from the Bradleys, I’ll make alternative arrangements.’ Arthur was speaking again, almost rambling, to cover the awkwardness between them. ‘In the meantime I’ll go on sleeping in the spare room, speaking of which…’ He yawned loudly. ‘I think I’ll retire now, I have to be up early in the morning. I have my customers to think of, though I’d appreciate it if you kept my plans to yourself, and Ted of course. Then, when the time comes, I’ll just slip away quietly. You’ll have to take on another baker of course. Bill Cummons would be only too happy to be offered the job, and he did do a good job while we were away on holiday; that’s if you want to carry on with the business. I hope you do, it’s been in the family a long time. Anyway, good night, love, see you in the morning.’ Stopping outside the spare room he said quietly, ‘You know, Ellen, I may not have all the qualities of a man like Ted Parker, but I’m a bloody good baker.’
Ellen didn’t reply, her throat was too full. Putting out the lamp she crept into her bedroom and climbed in beside Molly; Micky was sleeping on a bedroll on the floor. Since they had been reunited, they hadn’t let each other out of their sight for any longer than necessary. By mutual agreement it had been decided that the children should move back in with Ellen; and though Nora had protested at first, for she had grown used to having the children with her, she had been relieved at heart. At her age she had become set in her ways, and having two children under her feet was beginning to take its toll, though not for the world would she have admitted it.
Snuggling up against Molly’s warm body Ellen stared at the far wall thinking over what Arthur had proposed. If she had any loyalty at all she’d at least try and talk him out of his plans, but she wasn’t going to. She would keep quiet and let Arthur go, because that’s what she wanted; but she’d never have a moment’s peace or experience true joy until she knew for certain that Arthur was settled and happy, and for a man of her husband’s character, that could take a very long time.