‘Hang on,’ James said, looking up from his book and forgetting who he was talking to. ‘You mean he can get sent down just because someone said he was seen doing…’
‘Yes,’ Creswell interrupted. ‘But that is not what is behind this.’
‘I don’t understand, Sir.’
Producing another paper, he waved it at James and said, ‘Poppycock.’
James still didn’t understand.
‘Poppycock,’ Creswell repeated and then grunted a laugh. ‘Popping your cock in someone’s arse isn’t poppycock, not when you’re caught doing it, but this is.’ He slammed the paper on the table and James risked a look.
The words were easy to read, but not to understand. One section did stand out though, the trial date; December the twenty-first.
Two days’ time.
‘Does this mean…?’
‘It does, Wright.’ Creswell took the paper back and addressed Silas’ blank stare. ‘I say this is a load of rubbish, young man, but I fear there is nothing we can do about it. Whoever wants this case tried, wants it done suspiciously quickly. The prosecution has not only been granted a trial date that leaves virtually no time to gather a defence, but they have also requested the hearing In Curia, in open court. On top of that, they have asked for the maximum sentence. And all that means if you don’t tell me what you were doing on the night of October eleventh, and if you can produce no viable alibi, your defence is as good as lost, and you will be going to prison for two years with hard labour.’
Silas said nothing.
‘Come on, Silas.’ James squeezed his arm. ‘Give him something.’ Silas didn’t even move. ‘Why aren’t you saying anything?’
‘I may as well not be here,’ Creswell muttered, flicking the documents over to glance at the other sides. ‘Sounds as if the boy wants to be sent down. Also sounds to me that Reverend Stony is a man of influence. It’s unheard of to give only…’
He muttered to himself while James, desperate for a response, shook his friend’s arm. Silas would only stare directly ahead, looking through his barrister as if already imaging a life spent staring at brick walls and bars.
‘No,’ Creswell said, putting the papers back in his case. ‘That’s it. Without his testimony, there is nothing I can do apart from ask for leniency due to his ill-treatment, something which never produces results. The fact that it will be In Curia means it is probably already on its way to the press agencies, and the fact that you work for Clearwater means he’s going to be dragged in as well, as a witness if nothing else. Mr Wright?’
Confused at Silas’ behaviour, James didn’t reply until he heard Creswell’s chair scrape.
‘Yes, Sir?’ He tore his eyes from Silas.
‘I shall be ten minutes. I will call for a doctor to examine him, and see if I can counter this bail refusal.’
‘This what?’
‘Inspector Adelaide has said that the man is a flight risk. You confirmed he tried to run from the arrest so it will be difficult to object, but I shall try. You have recourse to funds, I take it?’
James could only think of the money in the safe. It wasn’t his, but with Archer out of reach and nowhere else to turn, he was prepared to risk the viscount’s wrath.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And if you are sending for a doctor, send for Doctor Markland at the Cheap Street Mission. He knows Silas, he stitched that scar under his chin.’
‘Good thinking, lad, I will. Don’t get your hopes up about the bail,’ Creswell added, wafting to the door. ‘Something about this case stinks worse than this hell-hole. Meanwhile, see if you can get any sense out of him. If he doesn’t speak in his defence, it’s a closed case, and he’s a lost cause.’
The door opened and closed with a rush of cold air, and the smell of damp, and Creswell was gone. James took the seat facing Silas and gripped his friend’s hands.
‘What the fuck’s going on?’ he hissed, shaking his arms. ‘Why ain’t you speaking?’
Silas blinked and finally registered his presence. ‘Hello, Jimmy,’ he said. ‘Where’s Archie?’
‘I don’t know, and I can’t contact him.’ He did and he could, but Archer didn’t need the weight of this any more than Silas needed to know his sisters were in mortal danger. ‘You’ve only got Creswell, and he wants to help you. Lady Marshall saw to it, and I believe in him. All you’ve got to do is tell him where you were and what you were doing.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not? You weren’t really doing that stuff were you?’
Silas regarded him with droopy eyes. ‘What? Fucking another bloke? I used to do it for a living, Jimmy.’
The statement underscored the strength of the prosecution’s case and the weakness of Silas’ position. Who would believe a rent boy, a criminal, over a vicar?
‘But were you doing it on October eleventh?’ The date rang a bell for James, but he was unable to think why.
‘No, mate. Anyway, I’m a bottom boy by choice, ain’t I? There’s a hundred people in the East End who knew what I was. My mate Molly at the rope house. They could bring Fecker in. Landlord at The Ten Bells, even Doctor Markland or Lady Marshall, Archie for sure.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t say nothing, Jimmy. They’ve got me.’
‘Who?’
Silas shrugged. ‘Anyone. Everyone. Don’t matter. It’s made up, so I can’t have any witnesses, and all the men I know wouldn’t lie in a courtroom like this Stony will, whoever he is.’
‘I’d bloody do it to save you,’ James said and clutched his hands tighter. ‘Why won’t you try and save yourself?’
‘Can’t.’
‘But why?’ James was exasperated, and the tears were threating to return, this time caused by frustration.
‘October eleventh,’ Silas said.
James dropped his head as he thought. The date was important… He had worked a different round… Someone was off sick… North Riverside… ‘Fuck it!’ he exclaimed. ‘That was the day I met Thomas.’
Silas nodded slowly.
‘Were you living at Clearwater House then?’
Another affirmative.
‘Were you there between eight and midnight that night?’
This time, Silas shook his head.
‘Where were you then?’
Silas wriggled one of his arms free from James’ grip and placed it on his friend’s hand. He curled their fingers together. ‘You know I’m with the wrong man, don’t you?’ he said, his voice once again barely audible.
‘What?’
‘I should have been with you, and Thomas should be with Archie. It’s obvious. Archie’s the one I’m in love with, but you’re the one I love, Jimmy. Well, you and Fecks and a bit of Tommy when he ain’t being a prick. And ’cos I’m in love with Archie and love the rest of you, I can’t say a fecking word about where I was.’
The tears were winning the war, and they came as quickly as James sniffed them back. He let them get on with it.
‘I can prove where I was at about two that morning onwards,’ Silas said. ‘But not before.’
‘Please, mate. You’ve got to tell me why? You could be shut up like this for years.’
‘If I tell you, Jimmy, you’ll have to tell the beak, and then it won’t be just me in the dock.’
‘Please!’
‘No, Jimmy. Go and wait for your man outside.’
James was not going to give up on him the way Silas had given up on himself. It wasn’t just the not knowing that was eating him alive, it was the thought of Silas locked up, even for the two days between then and the trial.
‘You know what you are,’ James said. ‘Yeah, I can see from your face. You’re expecting me to say you’re a fucking idiot, aren’t you? Well, I won’t. You’re a caged bird, is what you are. Like one of Arch
er’s trapped thoughts, you’re the something in his head that he can’t get out. It’s not an idea or a memory that’s got stuck in there, it’s you. It’s where you live. In his head, in his thoughts, every fucking night and day, and you know what? You’re not meant to be caged either. You wouldn’t last one week in a shithole like this, look at you now. You’d be dead within a month. Silas Hawkins was not born to be thrown in a cell and left to rot. You’ve got too much life in you, too much to give.’
James stood, and the tears subsided as determination kicked in. He came around the table and crouched, turning Silas to him with ease. Taking his head, he drew him down and very carefully kissed the swollen flesh of his lips until Silas complained of the pain and struggled free. James brushed his friend’s fringe from his swollen eye and tucked his hair behind his ears, offering a sad smile.
‘Just in case I never get to do it again,’ James said and returned to his chair. ‘I’ll ask you one last time, and if you still won’t tell me, I’ll have to assume that our friendship is at an end.’ It wouldn’t be, of course, but he could think of nothing else to do that would change Silas’ mind.
He didn’t need to; he had done enough.
‘Quill,’ Silas said, catching James off guard.
‘Quill?’ James immediately lowered his voice. ‘What about…? Oh, my fucking shit!’
‘You got it, Jimmy.’ Silas managed a dry smile. ‘He’s got me, got Archer, got what he wanted.’
‘Is was the twelfth when I met Tom properly. He said he had to visit friends in hospital…’ The memory was returning, the bird freed from its cage. ‘Told me it was you and Archer. That’s how you met Markland. You were in St Mary’s because of… Oh, no.’
‘That’s right, Jimmy,’ Silas said. ‘The night of the eleventh was when Archer went after the Ripper. I was there. Tommy was there. We all knew who the Ripper was, and none of us went to the police. How many questions is that going to bring up? Apart from that, my only witnesses are Archer and Tom, and when it comes out, like it will, about who’s living with who and, worse, how come and why… Yeah, I can see from your face, Jimmy. You’ve got it. While Archie’s being done for withholding from the rozzers, Tom’s being done for aiding and abetting attempted murder, and the Ripper wasn’t dead. We knew it, and we didn’t report it. While all that’s being spewed in public, I’m being done for renting.’ He took a breath. ‘You might as well add burning down a fecking warehouse, ’cos that’s another thing I was doing on October eleventh. If I open my mouth, and now if you do, we’re all going down.’
Thirteen
Even when Creswell returned fuming and announced that his bail appeal had been refused, Silas said nothing. Nor did James when he was asked if the accused had spoken. He lied, but reassured Creswell that he would be back the next day to try again. Silas was taken back to his cell, but the barrister arranged for him to be more comfortable, wear his own clothes, and keep James’ coat for the cold.
It was painful to leave him, shuffling even without the chains, but at least James had the comfort of knowing that he would be fed and was to be kept away from the other prisoners and the two officers who had beaten him.
‘What do we do now?’ he asked, once they were out on the street.
‘I ask you one last time if Mr Hawkins said anything to you while I was absent,’ Creswell said, examining his pocket watch. ‘And remind you of the gravity of the situation.’
James didn’t need reminding. ‘No, Sir. I wasn’t able to get another word out of him. I did try.’
‘Hm,’ the man nodded, distracted. ‘I can well believe it. He is determined to protect someone.’ He flipped the watch closed and dropped it into a pocket beneath his cloak. ‘I’ll ride with you as far as Temple, Harrison can take you on from there.’
‘I can find a cab,’ James offered. His lies were burning him from the inside out, and he was keen to be away from the man’s suspicious glare.
‘No, no. It’s what I pay him for.’
Harrison was waiting with the carriage door open, and seeing there was to be no refusal, James gave his thanks and climbed in.
‘May I ask a question?’ he ventured once they were moving.
Creswell was already studying another brief, but put it to one side and waited.
‘Thank you. Is it normal for a trial to come so quickly? It’s in two days, and he was only arrested yesterday.’
‘No, dear boy,’ Creswell sighed. ‘It is most unusual. There is, however, precedent, but after my conversation with the clerk, there is little point requesting a stay while I find a point of order.’
‘Sorry, Sir. I don’t understand.’
The barrister crossed his legs carefully to avoid kicking the footman and folded his hands in his lap.
‘The court has decided this must be heard before Christmas. I remonstrated that there was insufficient time to gather a defence, and they laughed in my face. When I enquired as to why, I was told that it was an order by the judge who will try the matter, and when I heard his name… Well, the last thing you want to do is anger Judge Galloways.’ James’ face clearly didn’t register any further understanding, so Creswell continued. ‘They don’t call him the hanging judge for nothing, and I don’t want to defend before him knowing I’ve already challenged his decision to hear expediently. As you might say, I don’t want to piss on my own party.’
‘The Crown versus Maitland was called to trial within two days,’ James remembered. ‘That was similar in many ways.’
‘By Jehovah!’
James hadn’t said it to show off. In fact, he had been thinking of Archer and convincing himself that he should tell him the news. ‘Oh’, he said, registering Creswell’s shock. ‘I read a lot of The Police Illustrated, that’s all. I don’t know anything about how the system works.’
Creswell studied him until James was uncomfortable. ‘Lady Marshall said you were a footman?’
‘That’s right, Sir.’ James had almost forgotten and righted his posture. ‘Two months with Lord Clearwater.’
‘And before that?’
‘A messenger for the Central Post Office.’
‘Well, their loss, Clearwater’s gain.’ He landed a long-fingered hand on James’ knee like a rake. ‘I can see you are as dumbfounded as I am, James,’ he said. ‘I shall work on this case right up until the point where I win it. I can see you are worried, but believe me, you have the full weight of my knowledge and experience behind you, and behind Mr Hawkins. After all, I wouldn’t want to piss on Lady Marshall’s party either.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t want anything being disclosed to the wife, you understand.’ Winking, he said, ‘Her Ladyship has a fondness for you, too, lad,’ and sat back. ‘I would keep her at bay in that respect, or she will own you for life.’
It was James’ turn to be shocked, not because the man was implying that Her Ladyship might want to seduce James as, presumably, she had done Creswell, but because the man was speaking about her so liberally. There was no chance James would have any interest in Lady Marshall even if she was forty years younger, and she knew that as well as he did.
‘The best thing you can do,’ Creswell said, collecting his notes. ‘Is discover Lord Clearwater’s whereabouts and drag him, screaming if necessary, to court on the twenty-first. He will need to give testimony.’
That was easier said than done, considering James had sent Archer to the wilds of the North Wales coast.
It wasn’t until later that day, as he ate a late lunch with Mr Norwood in the servants’ hall, that James discovered Archer’s whereabouts. The mantle clock had recently tinkled four, bringing a welcome interruption to the awkward silence, and when the bell box rattled, both men leapt to answer it. James was faster on his feet.
‘You finish,’ he said. ‘I still have things to do upstairs.’
He didn
’t wait for a reply, but left the room quickly, took the stairs two at a time and didn’t stop to pause until he was in the hall. The vision of Adelaide and his two henchmen came back to him, and after what Silas had said, he half expected the police to have returned for Archer, if not for the rest of the household.
‘Jimmy,’ he said to his reflection as he passed the mirrors, ‘if you can face the inside of Bow Street nick, you can face whatever this is.’
It was a thirteen-year-old messenger in a blue uniform with a blue nose to match. His hand was shivering so much, James had to chase the envelope to catch it.
‘Is there a… reply… Sir?’ the boy stuttered.
‘How would I know? It won’t be for…’
It was for James.
He considered the boy freezing in the snow and remembered himself in the same position. ‘Come inside and wait,’ he said, jerking his head and backing into the house.
‘No, thank you, Sir.’
‘Don’t be daft. Come in while I read this.’
The boy, no larger than James’ sister and just as slight, did as he was told, but his shivering could have been mistaken for nervousness.
‘Are you new?’ James asked as he closed the door, and directed the boy to a chair where he sat, hugging himself and rocking.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘It gets easier.’ James threw the lad one of Archer’s cloaks from the stand. ‘It’s alright, put it on. I was a messenger, I know what working in this weather’s like.’
‘It’s bunged all the way to Coventry, they say,’ the lad told him, hugging the cloak. ‘Down south ain’t so bad, but the north? Forget it.’
James only half listened as he ran his finger beneath the flap and opened the small envelope.
‘They say there could be more, could be not,’ the boy chattered on, either feeling quite at home or to cover his anxiety. ‘Don’t know why they bother trying to tell us what to expect, you only have to look out the window…’
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