by Jane, Bettie
“I wish you the best of luck, and I’ll keep your services in mind should anyone I know find themselves in need.”
“Thank you, Penelope. That’s very kind of you.” She closed her notebook and tucked it into her bag. “I really need to be going. I’ll be in touch about returning with the photographer. You mentioned the gallows will be finished later today. Those will be in front of Marble Arch, is that right, rather than here at the convent?”
Penelope stood and Julia joined her.
“That’s correct. They may even be done now. I suspect tomorrow morning would be a fine time for you to return and take your pictures here as well as at the gallows site.”
Penelope insisted on a hug goodbye from Julia, saying they were practically family now, and as Julia walked out of the convent and stepped back onto the bustling streets of London, she counted her lucky stars that Jacob had such wonderful family. She tried not to panic at Penelope’s assumption that she and Jacob were more serious than they really were.
Her own family hadn’t spent much time with Jacob, save the time he was at their home to arrest Sydney Guinness, and that was just fine with her. Her father would be mortified to know there was anything serious between her and the inspector, but her mother would be the one to throw the true tantrum. Maybe she’d keep their relationship quiet for now, especially if she hoped to obtain some start-up capital from her father.
Julia’s thoughts turned back to her and Frankie’s agency, and she hurried to where she’d parked her auto. She couldn’t wait to speak with Meredith about her business idea. Thoughts of the martyrdom and the memorial slipped into the back of her mind and her business moved into the forefront.
So many questions. Hopefully Meredith could point her in a direction and help the task seem manageable.
5
Early Afternoon
February 21, 1921
Goodall Residence, Mayfair
London
Nearly a week passed since Julia’s meeting with Meredith followed by one to her parents. Her father was surprisingly enthusiastic about accessing her trust money for this endeavor, and he’d given her a generous budget after they’d discussed her basic plans. She and Frankie kept themselves busy working through Meredith’s checklist of advice and searching for a space they could purchase. They had it narrowed down to three options. He was to arrive soon with Mattie to discuss the benefits and disadvantages of each property.
One was situated in the East End and was the cheapest of the options. It was a somewhat rundown building, and Julia wasn’t thrilled about living there—some memories of her encounter with Meredith’s sister last month colored her perception of that side of the river. Additionally, the amount of renovation work the building required would delay their moving in substantially.
Another was a much smaller location just off Fleet Street. She loved the location and its connection to the publishing industry, but the price of the building was outrageous and it did not have an ideal layout for the residential portion of her plan. It was available immediately, though, and didn’t need much work. They would be able to hang a shingle right away and get to work.
Her ideal choice of the three finalists was the five-story building in the Charing Cross neighborhood, nestled near Covent Garden and Soho. The building was newly constructed, ready for immediate move-in, and already had several tenants interested in renting rooms. It would be a much bigger purchase and project than she’d originally intended, but it was still within the bounds of the budget her father was gifting her. It would mean that she’d become an instant landlord, not a role she’d really ever considered for herself, but one that intrigued her. Likely the rents she’d collect on the other retail spaces would generate a profit right away, which would buy her a little time to get the private investigation agency off the ground.
Mr. Benton, the estate agent from Winkworth’s Mayfair office, indicated an interest in setting up a satellite estate agency office for their company in that building, plus he said there was a bookshop, a shoe store, several clothing boutiques, and a solicitor or two, restaurants and taverns that were interested in leasing space in the building as well.
From Julia’s perspective, they’d be leased to capacity as quickly as they wanted to be. The area was promising for visibility for her office front, bustling with coffee shops, restaurants, other retail spaces, and even some music venues.
One of Julia’s favorite features of the Charing Cross building was the rooftop garden that comprised what would have been the fifth floor. When the agent originally showed her and Frankie the property, she’d been captivated by the view of the city from the roof. She could visualize flowers blooming in the spring and having her very own private retreat in the middle of, and above, the bustling city. She’d live in a flat on the fourth floor so she could enjoy the views from the heights as often as possible and be closer to the rooftop green space.
The location was also very convenient. Only about a ten minute walk to Piccadilly Circus, so she’d be close to the Ladies Club for those events. The Daily News offices were about a mile away on Fleet Street just the other end of the Strand. It was practically steps from Scotland Yard, making her access to the police very simple.
Originally, Julia thought it would be best to situate her office as close to Mayfair as possible in order to access that demographic—they had plenty of money and plenty of scandal in what was left of the aristocracy—but Charing Cross was more central and would be easily accessible even from east of the river.
She would be buying the building with her father’s money and because she wasn’t married, she could own property in her own name, so she didn’t exactly need Frankie’s approval, but his opinion mattered to her.
Once he arrived she quickly ran over the details of the three buildings to jog his memory. It didn’t need jogging.
“I know you’re in love with Charing Cross. If you want my opinion, I fully support that option but I do have concerns. There’s plenty of the residential space that you wanted, besides becoming a landlord, which could be quite profitable in the long run. I am concerned that we’d be in over our heads a bit, though. Neither of us knows anything about owning property, managing it, dealing with tenants. Learning that on top of starting up the investigative agency feels a bit overwhelming. Do you think it might be wise to start with a smaller building and not take on everything at once?”
“I do want your opinion, certainly. You’ll be working there also. In fact, in addition to working alongside me on the investigation side, if I choose Charing Cross, would you consider managing the property? My job at the paper along with our investigations will take most of my time. I’m not going to have the time to manage tenants. After all, we are supposed to be partners now, remember?”
“I was going to suggest that very arrangement if you selected this one. Even though I don’t have experience, let’s face it. You won’t have time to do everything. I’m already feeling worry about not carrying my weight. If your father supplies the money, you and I are in an inequitable position, don’t you suppose?”
“Over time, we’ll figure a way for you to become a full partner, but in my mind, you’ll at least start out as a partial owner. Without your willingness to tend to the property management details, I wouldn’t be able to bite off such a venture so you see you really are quite valuable and critical to this effort.
“Perhaps you and Mattie would want to live in one of the flats once you are married?”
“Perhaps. I’ll ask her thoughts. Regardless, I will assist you in any way you wish in the operating of this building. I am not as confident as you are in undertaking a project of such magnitude, but if you think it’s a good idea, well, you are the senior partner showing up with all the money. What say do I really have?”
“Nonsense, Frankie. Senior partner simply because I have money to bring, but your opinion is important. I promise to consider any point you have to bring up and we’ll decide together how to run things.”
&nb
sp; Frankie shrugged, seeming a bit hesitant, but said, “I think we can do it, but it will be more difficult than we could possibly fully prepare for. If you are certain, then I’m in it to win it with you.”
“Perfect. Charing Cross it is. I’ll let my father know today. I’m still in a bit of shock that he’s agreed to support this, but I’m trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Now, let’s decide on a name so we can order a sign and the stationery.”
“What are your top considerations?”
“I considered utilizing the name of the neighborhood. Charing Cross Investigations. Also I considered using my last name Barlow Investigations. Or a combination of my surname and yours, Barlow Hatton Investigations. I think my father is uncomfortable with the usage of his surname, however, and he is giving me the money for this little venture, so I’d like to be respectful of him. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
“Neither can I. Where is my rebellious Julia?”
“She’s speechless, I suppose. Large financial gifts will do that to me.”
“I think Charing Cross Investigations has a lovely ring to it, and if you consider that it’s the junction of six different routes through London, I think it’s perfect.”
Julia squealed in spite of herself. “Charing Cross Investigations! I love it! Let’s have a sign made up then, shall we? Then I’ll meet with an architect and designer as soon as possible to see about outfitting both our investigative offices and my personal residence. We’re doing it, Frankie. We’re really doing it.”
Underneath all her excitement, a swell of anxiety threatened to dampen her mood. There was so little she knew about what she was actually getting herself into. She felt a bit naive, which fed her feelings of foolishness at taking on such a venture when she was so naive about it all. She hoped she and Frankie would be able to make it what she could imagine it to be. There was potential for success, but she wasn’t completely oblivious to the risks. A little oblivious, perhaps, because one can’t know what one doesn’t know, but not completely.
“Speaking of accomplishments, I saw your article about the convent and Tyburn Tree in The Daily News. It’s quite well written, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“I don’t mind at all. Compliments are always welcome.” She grinned at him, feeling nearly like she was coming out of her skin with excitement for her new business prospects.
“The memorial is tomorrow then?”
Julia nodded. “Yes. Jimmie and I will be there bright and early to take more photographs and interview more of the participants for a follow-up story. I have to say, it’s refreshing not to be working on a murder case for once.”
“You won’t get an argument from me there. Buying property is much more fun than delving into the gory details of some unfortunate soul’s demise.”
“While I’m meeting with my father and Mr. Benton to finalize the sale, I’ll set up another tour so we can begin our planning. Why don’t you check with Mattie and see if she wants to tour with us and consider the residential possibilities for the two of you once you’re married. Oh, you can also tell her that you will be able to marry her this coming June. You’ll be making a fair sum on this venture and quite quickly, I hope. You shouldn’t need to wait. Consider that your engagement present.”
“You’re a sweetheart, Julia Barlow. I don’t care what the rumors say. I won’t rush in though. I appreciate your optimism, but I don’t know that I’m as convinced as you that we’ll be making money hand over fist so soon. I’ll wait to finalize our wedding when I know a bit more.”
He winked at her, and she punched him playfully in the arm. “Get out of here before I have to preemptively fire you for spreading office gossip.”
She blew him a kiss as he left and then set about the rest of her afternoon. Perhaps by March or April at the latest, she’d be moved into her new home at Charing Cross. In the meantime, there was much to be done so her daydreaming would have to wait.
6
5:30 am
February 22, 1921
Original Tyburn Tree Site
Marble Arch, London
Jimmie wanted to arrive early to Tyburn Memorial to maximize lighting for photographs, and it appeared they were the first ones to arrive. The memorial didn’t officially get underway for another three hours. It was a bit of overkill to be this early, but Julia was so excited in her scheming about Charing Cross Investigations that her eagerness was bleeding over into every area of her life. She’d been chattering about her plans since she’d gotten in Jimmie’s auto.
“You are touring the building later today?”
Julia smiled. “Yes, just after the memorial. I’d love it if you would consider joining us for the tour. Interested?”
“Sure, I’d love to. Your plans sound grand indeed.”
They settled into a comfortable silence as they made their way toward Marble Arch and the original site of Tyburn Tree.
The streets were still mostly empty and a layer of fog settled over the city, causing the buildings to look misshapen and somehow threatening. As she and Jimmie approached the site just near Marble Arch, Julia tried not to think of the hundreds of people who had been killed on this site since the three-sided wooden gallows first came into use eight hundred years ago.
She didn’t believe in ghosts, not the kind that haunt you anyway. She did believe that past decisions could live on and torment a person the way one would expect a demon to infect a soul if peace wasn’t eventually made with the past. In that vein of thought, she considered the horrific deaths that had occurred on this spot. They weren’t all martyrs, some were legitimate criminals, but even then she found herself considering the brutal ways in which prisoners were dragged through the city on display as they were brought from Newgate Prison, then hanged, disemboweled, and finally drawn and quartered. Wouldn’t the punishment of death been just as effective with a quick death? She supposed the spectacle of the guilty being punished and justice being served was a big factor in making it such a public event.
An involuntary shiver shook her small frame before she willed herself to exorcise the memories of this place.
“Are you all right? Cold?” Jimmie asked as they rounded the side of the arch and saw the first, faint outlines of the gallows.
“Not cold. So much death to have occurred on this one spot. The sisters say the numbers could be in the tens of thousands who were killed right here on this spot. The darkness and fog, combined with the sinister history of this place set my teeth on edge a bit.”
Jimmie nodded and pointed at the gallows. There was a human-shaped figure, female from the looks of it, swinging from the gallows. Aside from their breath and their footsteps, the only other sound Julia could hear was the creaking of the rope.
“It looks as though they’ve decided to hang some sort of mannequin on the gallows for effect. It certainly intensifies the creepy factor, doesn’t it?”
Julia nodded. “I suppose it adds to the authenticity of what they are trying to recreate here. Thank you for coming with me, Jimmie. Do you think you can capture the silhouette of the mannequin on camera? We might get on the front page if you can capture the eerie mood of this place. I, for one, will be happy to be done with this event and be on our way. It’s uncomfortable to be reminded of the terrible deeds we are capable of inflicting on humanity.”
“I’ll do my best to capture it.” He set his equipment down and began setting up. “Finding enough light will be tricky, but the sun is making its entrance. A bit of a foggy pre-dawn light as a background for the gallows, complete with a hanged man should be powerful imagery.”
She stood back, watching him circle the gallows for the perfect angle and light to capture the photograph.
“Julia.”
Something in Jimmie’s voice raised the hair on the back of her neck. He was standing in front of the mannequin, looking up at it with a strange look on his face. She moved closer to him.
“What is it?”
“This isn’t a mannequin.
This is a person. A very dead person. It seems Tyburn Tree hasn’t yet claimed enough victims.”
Julia’s stomach turned at the sight and she sighed as she stepped forward to get a closer look. “Not again. I can’t seem to get any luck in the murder department. Bodies just keep showing up.”
“I’d say this old gal is the one who should be complaining about luck, wouldn’t you, Julia?”
Julia flinched, although she doubted he’d see it in the dark of the early morning.
“Of course you are right. How callous of me. Sometimes I think I’m a terrible person, Jimmie.”
“It’s normal to get a bit desensitized to death, I think. Humor is maybe a little bit necessary to get through this. It truly is awful, what humans will do to each other. I, for one, am glad to see that you are choosing to not let it get you down. Speaking of death, I suppose we should call the police?”
Julia agreed. “Yes, the sisters won’t be here for another little while. Do you mind staying here with, uh, with the body, and I’ll go down and ring the sisters. Penelope said someone is always awake praying.”
“You feel comfortable walking in the dark? Whoever is responsible for this could still be nearby.”
“Well, thank you for pointing that out. Yes, though, I’ll be fine. Look, it’s just there. It seems wise to not leave the body alone.”
“Scream if you need me?”
“Sure thing, Jimmie. I’ll probably be too busy running to scream anyway. You’ll see. I’ll be right back.”
She was true to her word, not out of a sense of integrity, but because the last thing she wanted to do was walk slowly and calmly down the street to the convent. Instead, she raced as fast as her legs would carry her, glad she’d made a decision to wear the flat shoes today.
Once in front of the main door, she pressed repeatedly on the bell that rang inside. A sister with a familiar face opened the small hatch in the upper door and in a very impatient voice asked what the meaning of her rude ringing was. What was her name?