by Jim Eldridge
‘Why not?’ whispered back Vera, with an angry glance at Marion.
‘If she hadn’t been watching the house, Abigail might have been the one who died.’ He hugged her and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘We’ll sort it all out when I get home.’
With that, Feather headed for the police van. Daniel opened the door of the hansom and helped Vera and Marion clamber in first; then he did the same for Abigail.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you home.’
The first part of the journey to the Feathers’ house was in a strained and very awkward silence, with Vera doing her best to appear calm, and Marion hiding her head, unable to look anyone in the eye. It was only as they continued their journey to Scotland Yard that Abigail asked, ‘What was all that about? How did Vera and Marion get involved?’
‘It was Marion who saw the men with guns put you in a carriage,’ said Daniel. ‘She jumped on it and found out where they were taking you, and then reported it and what had happened.’
‘But what was she doing watching our house?’
‘I think she’s a confused and troubled young woman,’ said Daniel.
‘It’s about you, isn’t it,’ said Abigail. ‘Remember, I said she had her eyes on you.’
‘You did,’ acknowledged Daniel.
‘That’s what it was all about. She was there to see you.’
‘Possibly,’ admitted Daniel. He hesitated. ‘There’s another thing. I think it might have been Marion who pushed you in front of that horse.’
Abigail stared at him, stunned. ‘What?!’
‘I think John and Vera think the same as well,’ said Daniel.
‘But …why would she do something like that? Is she mad?’
‘I’m hoping that John and Vera might be able to enlighten us,’ said Daniel. ‘But forget that for the moment; tell me about you being taken to Caroline Dixon’s. And how does Gerald Carr fit into the picture?’
‘She sent two men with guns to collect me from our house. She was going to shoot me and lay the blame on Gerald Carr. She told me she had him prisoner in her cellar.’
‘She told you all this?’
Abigail nodded. ‘I think she did it to boast how clever she was. She told me that she was going to shoot me, then shoot him and take our bodies to his yard in Somers Town and dump them there. She’d written a suicide note claiming to be from him, in which he claimed responsibility for the murders of the two nightwatchmen at Tussauds museum and Harry Michaels, and also the bank raids that had taken place, and finally my murder. She’d write that he couldn’t live with the thought of being hanged, so he was ending things this way.’
‘And she thought she could get away with that?’
‘She kept sending notes to him while he was in the cellar asking questions to which he had to write the answers. If he didn’t give them he was beaten at gunpoint so he couldn’t fight back.’
‘She was getting samples of his handwriting,’ said Daniel.
‘Exactly,’ said Abigail. ‘Remember, she was an artist and a very good copyist. When the authorities compared the suicide note with Carr’s documents at the Somers Town yard, they’d see that the writing was the same.’
‘And the men who were sent to warn me off, the ones holding you prisoner, made a point of telling me they were from Gerald Carr as extra evidence to point the finger at Carr.’
‘And it might have worked if Carr hadn’t shot her,’ said Feather.
‘But how did that happen?’ asked Daniel. ‘She had her men in the house protecting her; how did Carr manage to get free and kill her?’
‘For that, we have to listen to what Carr has to say.’
With the necessity of organising a van to return to Lowndes Square to collect Caroline Dixon’s body and Sergeant Cribbens, and also to arrange a carpenter and a locksmith to secure the house, by the time Inspector Feather was ready to undertake the questioning of Gerald Carr alongside Superintendent Armstrong, Daniel and Abigail had arrived at Scotland Yard.
‘You can sit and observe,’ Armstrong told them firmly, ‘but you don’t say anything. If you have any questions you’ll pass them to Inspectors Feather and Jarrett, and they’ll decide if they want to ask them.’
He then gestured for Daniel and Abigail to take their seats behind him.
‘We’re like the unwanted children at school, sent to the back of the class,’ Daniel whispered to Abigail as they sat down.
‘We should count ourselves lucky to be allowed into the room,’ Abigail whispered back. ‘It was only a few days ago we weren’t even allowed in the building.’
‘Bring in the prisoner,’ commanded Armstrong.
A constable appeared, ushering the handcuffed Carr and pushed him down onto a chair facing Armstrong, who was flanked on either side by Feather and Jarrett.
At least we can see Carr’s face as he answers the questions, Daniel thought.
‘You shot and killed Caroline Dixon,’ said Feather, opening the session.
‘It was a case of self-defence,’ said Carr. ‘She was going to have me killed, the same as she’d had Harry Michaels and the two nightwatchmen killed. She was stark staring mad! I wasn’t safe as long as she was alive.’
‘Tell us about the tunnel at Tussauds museum,’ said Jarrett.
‘That was Michaels’ idea,’ said Carr.
He’s keen to talk, thought Daniel. He wants to be seen as cooperating, hoping it’ll get him off.
‘Michaels had seen how this gang had been robbing banks by breaking through into their vaults from the cellar next door. “Mr Carr,” he says to me, “there’s an opportunity here to make big money.” I told him no. I said it was too dangerous doing the same thing; they could well end up bumping into the gang in the same shop and it’d all be over.
‘“It will all be over for them soon enough, Mr Carr,” he said. “Think about it: there’s only so many banks with a vault next door to an empty cellar. The banks will get wise to it. Every one with a vault next to a shop with a cellar with no one living there will be guarded. No, my idea is we stick to the same principle, but we break in from further away.”
‘“What d’you mean?” I asked him.
‘“We tunnel in. We find somewhere with a cellar that’s two or three doors away from a bank that’s got a vault in the basement, with solid earth in between, and we tunnel through.”
‘“Rubbish!” I said. “You can’t dig a tunnel like that overnight.”
‘“I don’t intend to,” he said. “What we do is find a place that needs nightwatchmen. We put a couple of blokes in who’ve got tunnelling experience, and they can spend a week, maybe two, even three digging a tunnel. No one’ll be expecting that so no one’ll be guarding against it.”
‘“Where are you going to get the tunnellers from?” I asked.
‘“I’ve got ’em,” he said. “Two blokes who used to dig tunnels when they were in the army. I’ve also got the perfect place for our first job. Madame Tussauds wax museum. They’ve got a cellar and it’s two doors away from a bank. And they need nightwatchmen.”
‘He then told me the rest of his plan: to pay off the existing watchmen and get these two ex-army blokes in. He’d done his research about the bank vault as well. He reckoned there was about a million quid in cash and valuables in it. What he was looking for was a financial backer, someone to put up the money to get the job done: paying off the nightwatchmen who worked there already, and paying the two tunnellers.
‘In the end, we made a deal: I’d put up the cash he needed for seventy per cent of the take.’
‘And he agreed to that?’
‘I was the one taking all the risk,’ said Carr. ‘Say they got through to the vault and there was nothing there, or hardly anything. I’d be out of pocket. Anyway, Michaels set it all up and we got the tunnellers installed at Madame Tussauds, and they set to work at nights. They were good, too. They were making lots of headway, and then …’ He scowled bitterly. ‘Somehow the Dixon woman found out abou
t it.’
‘Did you know Mrs Dixon already?’
Carr shook his head. ‘But I knew Charlie Dixon. Her husband. He was a crook, and very successful. We knew about one another but our paths didn’t really cross, so to speak. He worked mainly in the richer parts of town: Mayfair, Knightsbridge, Belgravia, classy places.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Jewellers, money-lenders.’
‘Break-ins?’ asked Feather.
‘Break-ins, sometimes threats of what would happen if they didn’t pay up to have their shop protected. These were rich people; the last thing they wanted was trouble. Charlie and his boys did well out of it. He had a big house with a big garden at the back of it, all very swell. I think that’s why she married him: his money. But she wanted more. It turned out that she was the one who came up with the idea of breaking into bank vaults through the cellar of the shop next door. Clever stuff.
‘And then Charlie died. Heart attack, they said, but if you ask me it was her doing him in so she could get all the money.’
‘You got any proof of that? That she bumped Charlie off?’
‘Proof?’ Carr shook his head, then added, ‘But you’ve only got to look at how she did for those two watchmen and Joe Michaels. One with his head cut off, Michaels having plaster of Paris poured down his throat. She was ruthless. Cold and hard. When I found out what had happened to the watchmen, and then to Michaels, and the word on the street was that she was the one who did it. Maybe she didn’t do the killings at the museum, but she certainly did the wax job on the second watchman, and killed Michaels the way she did. She used to do waxworks, you know, so they were the tools of her trade.’
‘Yes, so we’ve been told,’ said Feather.
‘Anyway, I knew at once what was going on, the message she was sending. She didn’t like the idea of anyone treading on what she saw as her territory, doing the bank jobs the way she was doing ’em.’
‘But Michaels’ way was different, tunnelling not breaking through a cellar wall.’
‘Think I’d try telling her that? Like I said, she’s mad. And vicious. No, I could see the writing on the wall. She’d done for the watchmen, and for Michaels, and I bet she made Michaels tell her who he was in it with.’
‘So you decided to kill her.’
‘No, I decided to see if I could do a deal with her. I’d tell her I’d back off and leave her with the banks, and I’d make it worth her while. Sort of, pay a fine, that sort of thing. I thought she’d see reason. But she didn’t.’
‘What happened?’
‘Me and the boys went to her house at Lowndes Square. I took them because I knew she had her own people there, so I thought I’d be safe. I didn’t expect her to do anything stupid in her own house. But as we walked in, she suddenly pulled out a gun and shot Iggy and Joe right there. Then she told her blokes to put me in the cellar. I ask you, what sort of woman pulls out a gun?’
‘Did you know that Miss Fenton was being held prisoner in the house?’ asked Feather.
Carr shook his head. ‘No. All I knew is she wasn’t going to let me go. She was playing with me. All this business of sending me notes. So I set to work on the lock, and at last I got it open. I was going to sneak out, but when I got upstairs, there she was.’
‘On her own?’
Carr nodded. ‘This time, when she pulled out her gun, I was ready. I jumped on her and tried to grab it off her, but she hung on. We was fighting for it, when it went off.’
‘She was shot twice,’ said Feather.
‘I couldn’t take the risk she might get up again. Like I said, she’s the most dangerous person I’ve ever met. Anyway, I was worried the sound of the shots would bring her blokes running in, so I decided to leg it.’
‘Taking the gun.’
‘Of course. I didn’t know who I’d run into. Lucky for me, it was you, not them.’ He looked at them, begging. ‘It wasn’t murder. It was self-defence.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
The interview over, Carr was taken down to the cells in the basement.
‘I think we’ve already got enough to hang him just for killing Caroline Dixon,’ said Armstrong. ‘The second bullet will be the clincher. But I’m pretty sure there’s more to be got on him.’
‘I agree,’ said Feather. ‘I suggest some serious questioning of everyone involved in his outfit, along with talking to everyone in Somers Town. Once people know he’s going to hang they won’t be afraid of him any more, and they’ll start to talk.’
Armstrong nodded. ‘It’s going to be a big job. I suggest you and Inspector Jarrett work on it together.’
‘It’ll be good to clear the streets of Carr and his gang,’ grunted Jarrett. ‘Bring some decency to the place.’
‘Until some upstart comes to take his place,’ said Feather ruefully. ‘That always happens.’
‘But this time we squash it before it gets out of hand, like it did with Carr,’ grunted Armstrong. ‘Right, next let’s have those two scumbags you picked up at Dixon’s house and talk to them.’
‘Can I suggest that Miss Fenton leads the questioning of them,’ proposed Daniel.
‘Why?’ demanded Armstrong.
‘Two reasons. First, she was the one they kidnapped at gunpoint, so they’re going to find it difficult to lie about that. Second, they’ve been bossed around by a strong woman, Caroline Dixon, so it’s likely they’ll react the same way to another strong woman, in this case Abigail.’
Armstrong looked at Feather and Jarrett inquisitively for their opinions. Jarrett looked unimpressed by the suggestion, but Feather – as Armstrong expected – nodded to show his agreement. Armstrong looked at Abigail and asked, ‘Do you feel up to doing this?’
Calmly, Abigail replied, ‘These men kidnapped me at gunpoint and were undoubtedly going to kill me. If I had my way, I’d rip their throats out. I think you can trust me to handle the situation.’
‘Very well,’ said Armstrong. ‘But I’ll still be in charge of the interrogation. I’ll start, and then hand them over to you.’ He looked at Daniel, Feather and Jarrett. ‘Feel free to pose any questions that may arise.’ He looked at Abigail and added, ‘With your permission, of course.’
‘That’s fine with me,’ said Abigail.
Armstrong looked at the uniformed constable on guard at the door. ‘Bring in the two prisoners.’ As the constable left to collect the men, he told Abigail and Daniel, ‘Their names are Ralph Abbott and Sam Wallace. Abbott is the one with the scar on his cheek. Both have criminal records, although there’s been nothing against them for the last eighteen months.’
‘Since Caroline Dixon took over her husband’s gang,’ commented Daniel. ‘She was a very careful woman.’
The door opened and two constables ushered in the two men who’d abducted Abigail and sat them on chairs facing Armstrong. Abigail had now taken the place of Inspector Jarrett on Armstrong’s right, Jarrett moving to join Daniel in what Daniel termed ‘the back row’. Feather retained his seat on Armstrong’s left.
‘Ralph Abbott and Samuel Wallace, you are facing various charges of murder,’ began Armstrong.
‘We never killed anyone!’ burst out Abbott.
‘Quiet!’ stormed Armstrong, banging his fist hard on his desktop. ‘You will talk when answering questions, that’s all. I repeat: you are facing various charges of murder, along with a charge of abducting Miss Abigail Fenton, who is sitting here alongside me, and with holding her prisoner with intention to kill her. We will start with that one before we move on to the other charges.’ He turned to Abigail. ‘Miss Fenton, you may question the prisoners.’
Abigail glared at the two men; her intense look of loathing and disgust, along with her deliberate heavy silence as she looked at them, caused the men to exchange looks of extreme fear and uncertainty.
Good, thought Daniel. She’s got them.
‘You admit that you came to my house with the intention of abducting me?’ said Abigail, not so much a question as a statement of fact
.
The two men hesitated, crouching down in their chairs as if hoping to be invisible, then they nodded, Wallace especially swallowing hard.
‘You will answer with words, not just nods!’ barked Abigail. ‘And sit up straight!’
Intimidated, both men shifted back in their chairs, then sat up straight.
‘Yes,’ croaked Abbott.
Abigail turned her glare on Wallace, who managed to say, ‘Yes.’
‘And you were both armed with pistols.’
‘Yes,’ said both men again.
‘You would have shot me if I had refused to go with you.’ Again, it was a statement, not a question.
‘No!’ burst out Abbott.
‘Then why the guns?’ demanded Abigail.
‘To …to put pressure on you,’ said Abbott. ‘To make you think we would.’
‘Why did you abduct me?’
‘It was on Mrs Dixon’s orders,’ said Wallace. ‘She was the boss.’
‘The boss of what?’ asked Abigail.
Abbot swallowed hard, then said, ‘Everything. She was the boss of everything.’
‘The bank raids?’
Abbott and Wallace hesitated, then both men nodded. ‘Yes,’ admitted Abbot in a faint voice.
‘You robbed the banks,’ said Abigail.
‘Yes,’ repeated Abbott, and he looked at Wallace, who added his own ‘Yes.’
‘You killed the two nightwatchmen at Tussauds wax museum,’ continued Abigail.
‘No, that wasn’t us!’ bleated Abbott. ‘That was Mrs Dixon!’
Abigail gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You’re trying to tell us that Mrs Dixon killed Eric Dudgeon and cut off his head in the Chamber of Horrors.’
‘Yes!’ Abbot nodded. He looked at Wallace. ‘Tell her, Sam.’
‘It was her who did it,’ said Wallace. ‘We didn’t know what she had planned. We thought she was just going to do some damage to the place. Beat up the watchmen. That sort of thing. She told us to knock ’em out and bring them to the Chamber of Horrors. And then she told us to put one of them on this block thing beneath the guillotine, and she produces this really sharp knife, more like a saw. The sort that butchers use. And she just …sawed his head off.’ He shook his head, as if sickened at the memory. ‘It was horrible!’