hatter

by Mark wells

  ‘I think we will call it time now’, as I was fast falling asleep from the effects of brandy. Charlotte sank unceremoniously in to the seat of the hansom cab, something I had never seen before, and would probably never see again, and I wished Jason and Robert goodnight. They strolled to their respective hotels, their hats were half cocked, they were half walking, and half supporting each other, whilst attempting army songs, which were out of tune to say the least. The cab pulled up at Cheyne walk and I used my key to enter, not wishing to disturb the rest of the house. My coat was quickly discarded. Although my wife quickly regained her composure, as best as she could, I still had to support her up the stairs, and into the bedroom. Our clothes were quickly discarded, and we were soon below the heavy quilt, naked and warm, we curled up together, and after the poetry of love consumed us. I felt the night draw over me, and in what seemed an instant, I was woken by the sounds of Tuesday, with no memory of the night before. My head felt like it had been split in two, and Charlotte lay sprawled out, naked on top of the bed, a situation that was quickly resolved. Ellen knocked on the door, entered and placed two welcome cups of tea on the side table next to the bed. ‘Would you like something to eat sir?’

  ‘No thank you’. The very thought of food made me want to be sick. ‘I will have something when I get up’, when being the operative word. I finally woke around ten thirty, my throat was quite dry, and my tongue had stuck to the roof of my mouth. I rang the little bell that resided on the bedside table which had somehow moved six or seven feet across the room. Luckily I heard the sound of someone outside the bedroom door and they in turn had heard the sound of the bell, and knocked softly gently on the door. Edith our housekeeper entered. The room was in quite a mess, clothes were strewn all over the place, my silver cane stood to attention, leaning by the fireplace. The fire had long since died, but the smell of burnt wood permeated throughout the bedroom. ‘Could we have some tea, and toast with marmalade thickly spread?

  ‘Yes’, said Edith smiling whilst looking at the state of the bedroom. ‘It will be ready in five minutes’, she said. That five minutes seemed like an eternity, the tea was soon drank, and the toast eaten. It was then I remembered my meeting with commissioner Mayne at one thirty. I knew he would not like to be kept waiting, for he was the type of person whose trousers had to fit exactly one inch below the ankle, smartly dressed at all times, and a stickler for punctuality. I rose from my warm bed hurriedly, almost falling over trying to pull my trousers on. I now felt alive again, but my head still couldn’t stand the slightest sound, and it was impossible to remember the night before, so I chose not to try. A cup of black coffee, was required to bring me to my senses, or ‘hair of the dog’, so I decided to combine the two, black coffee and brandy, which I have always found did the trick. I sat in the drawing room trying to read the news in the London Standard, which was almost impossible through the drunken haze of last night, although I did manage to read an article about ‘Garrotters’, being on the prowl in London, with a warning, telling people to be extra vigilant, laying the blame squarely on the Portuguese community, that had descended on London lately. I crept back upstairs trying to keep the creaking of the stairs to a minimum. I entered the bedroom where Charlotte was still asleep. After an unappreciated nudge, I told her I was going to see Richard Mayne, and that I would be back around five o’clock. The response from Charlotte was a sort of muffled grunt, and I knew she would be in bed for most of the day. I finally left the house at eleven, plenty of time to get to my engagement with Richard Mayne. The London ‘smog’ hung low across the Thames, so thick I could not see the other side. I decided to walk for a while, to brush off the night before. My walk took me past the church where the service was held for Richard the day before. I ‘tipped’ my hat in acknowledgement of the man, and friend that he was, and always would be. I proceeded along the length of ‘Church Street’, with its uneven cobbles, making it difficult to walk in places. I felt a slight tap on my left shoulder and turned quickly to be confronted by a woman of about five feet eight in height, well built, and wearing clothes that were designed to show off her ample cleavage, which could not be ignored by any man.

  ‘Good morning sir’. ‘Can I help you madam’, I said whilst trying not to stare at her cleavage.’ I could not help but notice the silver cane you carry. My friend carry’s one just like it’. How this could be, I did not know, there were only ten made, I thought.

  ’What was his name? Questions now filled my mind.

  ‘Richard. Well that is the name I know him by, but then again I know many men, most of which, forward no names to me, but I know them all well’. I sensed something was wrong with the situation I found myself in.

  ‘How do you know Richard’? It was obvious she did not know of his demise.

  ‘He visits my house quite frequently, usually once or twice a week, but doesn’t stay more than an hour however’.

  ‘What is your name, and where do you live?’ I enquired.

  ‘My name is Mary Jeffries, and I live in the house across the street’.

  ‘May I come to your house and speak of Richard’, thinking that her insight might shed some light on to his death, I thought she would say no, but she didn’t, which I found odd, as though she did not care who knew where she lived, or who I was, and I could have been anyone.

  ‘Certainly’, follow me, she replied, and led the way to a house on the other side of the street. Once inside, I knew something was terribly wrong with the scene that greeted me, loosely clad ladies of obvious ill repute with men, some of them I knew I had seen some before in the parliament building. How stupid I thought, this was a brothel, and I had been propositioned without knowing it. ‘I wish to talk about Richard and nothing else’.

  ‘Very well, if that is all you require then follow me’. A door half hidden, opened in the wall which led to another house, with more women. Then another door leading to a final house, where she kept, what I assumed were her private chambers. I sat down on an aged fireside chair, and explained about Richard’s death, and about where it took place. Immediately she began to sob uncontrollably, but these were not the tears of a friend, but the tears of a lover. She told me of the man she knew, and described Richard to a ‘tee’, his wife Elizabeth was of a very frail nature. I knew the scandal would probably kill her, so I pulled a gold sovereign from my pocket, and handed it to her. I then told her that another fifty would follow it, if she kept her silence about Richard, for I knew that to mention this, would destroy his family, and the canes were supposed to be above reproach, our only guiding purpose, the betterment of mankind, and the pursuit of personal wealth which we had, and were trying to accomplish the latter. I hurriedly donned my hat, and left this most horrible of places to proceed to my meeting with Richard Mayne.

  I hailed a cab, and asked him to take me to four ‘Whitehall place’, the home of Scotland Yard, named quite simply, because it backed on to a yard of the same name. I quickly mounted the steps which numbered four, and walked up to the oak desk, behind which stood an officer of about six feet in height, well built. Not the best of jobs, I thought for a man of such a size. The time was exactly one twenty five, and I had made it for my appointment with Sir Richard Mayne.

  MEETING WITH SIR RICHARD MAYNE:

  ‘Would you inform the commissioner, that I James McAlister have arrived for my appointment at one thirty.’? The man peered at me over the top of his small, almost inconsequential glasses, and said

  ‘Yes I will inform Sir Richard of your arrival. He is expecting you’, he said in a Scottish accent, which was something I did not expect.

  ‘Come in, come in James’ was the response from behind the half open door with the brass name plate centred on it. ‘How are you? How’s Charlotte and the children? I have not seen you in London for a while. What is it now, three months at least?’, he said almost without stopping, in a voice that screeched like fingers on a blackboard.

  ‘We are all well indeed except for the incidents that have just o
ccurred’.

  ‘I know, shocking business. No one has been arrested yet. It may take some time, to get to the bottom of this, with the limited resources we have’. I knew he was already hinting at the formation of the two more divisions of police officers.

  ‘We will talk of this matter later’, I said looking around the office, and glancing at the picture of Queen Victoria, which was to the right of the walnut desk, and occupied a prominent position on the wall. The pencils on his desk were laid out in perfect rows, and the smell of polish filled the air His silver topped inkwell gleamed in the sunlight which seemed to permeate into every corner of this large office. He sat with his chin resting on the back of his hands, and peered at me over the top of his wire rimmed glasses. I then told him of the attempt on my life, secret up till now.

  ‘In which case I am of the opinion that, as Richard was murdered, and there has been an attempt on your life, I should have you followed by a plain clothed officer whilst you are here in London, just as precautionary measure you understand. For it is clear that someone wants some, or all of the ten, dead for whatever reason. I however cannot spare the resources to cover the rest of your group. I have already placed a detective on the case, but he has so far come up with nothing. Is there anything that you can bring to mind that might be of help?’

  ‘I can not think of anyone that would wish us dead, and the only one with anything to gain would be Richard Winter, and that would only be because he would take on more business, and thus be paid more than he was paid already’.

  ‘I will have him continually followed then, as a precautionary measure, but you must be aware that I only have eight detectives, so I will have to put a ‘beat’ officer on him at this time’. The rest of the conversation that followed was about the formation of the two new divisions of the police force. After giving me a general idea of what he wanted, I promised that his wishes would be met, even if I had to finance the event myself in the short term, which brought a smile to his face. With that I rose, shook his hand and made my way out, to be confronted by the general hustle and bustle of the day outside. The time was around two thirty. I had one thing left to do before the journey home to Cheyne walk in Chelsea. A London cab was soon hailed and I bade the driver to take me to Southwalk Bridge, which was only a short distance away. He was asked to wait for me. Having told him what had happened, in the forlorn hope he may have heard something, being a ‘cabbie’ He offered his commiserations, and I spent a full half hour just gazing at the spot where Richard fell from the large three span cast iron toll bridge, wondering why a man, such as he had met such a brutal and cowardly end. Was it a simple robbery that had been disturbed, or had it something to do with Mary Jeffries the ‘madam’ of Chelsea, but if it was this, then it could not possibly have anything to do with, the botched attempt on my life. I rejoined the cab after saying my final farewell, and was soon on my way home. I arrived home, and after Edith took my coat, I went into the drawing room to find Charlotte, sitting by the fire doing some needlework, which she found very

  therapeutic, and after the Cremorne, therapy of any kind would be a welcome asset. The fire was very welcoming to me, after the cold outside, and the tea, supplied by Edith, completed the revival of the senses. Charlotte gave me, a swift telling off, because of the fool I had made of myself the night before. Having asked her what I had done, for I could not remember anything, except the falling over incident. She informed me that I had tried to get out of the balloon, which had to be pulled down rather quickly to prevent me being injured, after claiming that I could fly. I at once apologised, and told her that it would not be repeated, ever! I placed another log on the fire and picked up the Evening Standard to take my mind off the day’s events, and catch up on the current news. ‘Where are the children, are they upstairs in the playroom?’

  ‘Ellen has taken them for a walk, across to the Bridge Gardens on the embankment’.

  ‘How long have they been gone’?

  ‘Only a short while. She said that she would not be long, for the sky looked like there was a lot of snow in it’.

  ‘It is also getting dark quickly. I will give them another half hour, and then I will go and fetch them’.

  ’Very well’. An hour passed, but there was still no sign of Ellen or the children, it was also very dark now.

  ‘I had better go and find them, I exclaimed, whilst draining the last remaining drops of brandy, from the large glass, built for the purpose

  ‘Don’t take to long will you?’

  ‘No I’ll be back as quick as I can’. I donned a large coat, and gloves, for I knew it would be cold outside, which it was, bitterly cold. I knew I would find them, feeding the many swans that swam the Thames near Bridge Gardens. So this would be my first target. Sure enough, I found them throwing handfuls of bread, to the hissing swans, which had made their home on the river. ‘I hope we have some bread left for supper’. They turned, shocked at the very sight of me, catching them, like ill-disciplined school children.

  ‘Papa’, Emy shouted, and ran toward me with her arms open wide. I picked her up in my arms and swung her round, kissing her on the forehead as I did so. I put her down as Charles came toward me, and I placed my arms around both of them, and hugged them, like I had not seen them for a long time. ‘Ellen! You should not have kept the children out so long. Your mistress may not be so pleased’.

  ‘Sorry sir. I lost track of the time’.

  ‘Is there any of that bread left, for me, to feed the swans with. Don’t worry, your mistress will believe, that the lateness of the hour is my fault’, for I looked upon Ellen as my second daughter, and scolding her for this simple mistake, would not be right in my mind.

  ‘Oh! By the way sir. A man asked if I would give you this. She produced a slender looking package, from the side of a park bench. As she handed this to me, I instinctively knew what it was, another cane, but who did it belong to. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I turned my head in all directions. I could see no-one, but I still had the feeling, that we were being watched, from the shadows. ‘Quickly now, we must go home’. The pace was almost running, but the sight of the front door slowed us, in the knowledge, that we were almost safe. Once inside, I breathed a sigh of relief, and asked Ellen if she would make the children, something warm to drink, and something to eat.

  ‘I will speak to you in a short while Ellen’.

  ‘Very good sir’. She must have thought that I would be telling her off, for the lateness of the outing, for she had no knowledge of the events that had already occurred. With that I made my way to the drawing room, and the sometimes comforting tones of my wife, and comfort was what I needed, now!, but did not get any.

  ‘Where have you been? I was beginning to get worried.’

  ‘It took me a while to find them, and when I did, they were feeding the swans. They looked like they were enjoying themselves, and after recent events I decided to let them stay a bit longer’. I thought she was going to explode, her face turned red with anger.

  ‘With someone trying to kill you’, she shouted loudly.

  ‘I could see no immediate danger. Richard Mayne has put a tail on me while we are here in London’, perhaps that was what I sensed in the park.

  ‘What about the children, and I’?

  With what had happened, I had, for my part put myself first, something I have never done before, and would never do again. How could I tell her about the cane, which I had left in the hall, but I knew I had to. ‘Something did happen tonight. Another cane was delivered, by way of Ellen, in the park. I will speak to her shortly’. At this point Charlotte lost control.

  ‘The children will not be allowed out of our sight, not even for a moment’. I unwrapped the parcel. Another cane, as I expected. I rang the bell, Edith entered the room.

  ‘Please could you tell Ellen, that I would like to see her immediately’? A short while later, she arrived in the drawing room, looking down at the floor, with her hands behind her back.

&
nbsp; ‘Dear Ellen, do not be afraid. We are not going to scold you. I want you to tell us of the events of Bridge Gardens, including the part about the person who gave you the package, and do not look so worried, take your time, and leave nothing out’.

  ‘We left the house at about four o’clock. We went straight to the park, where we played a few games. Emily said that she wanted to go and feed the swans. This was where we headed next. After a few moments I noticed a rather tall man in a top hat coming towards us. He asked our names, and told us, not to get to close to the swans, or the waters edge. He knelt down on one knee, for he was rather tall, taller than you, and asked if he might feed the swans too. I gave him some of the