Children of the Shadows, page 16
Rosebreen put his elbows on the table, holding his coffee cup in both hands. “The real question beyond who is doing this, is why? What does he want with these children? Frankly, the abduction of the girl is the most puzzling.”
“Why is that significant?” Daniel asked.
Rosebreen lowered his voice and leaned forward. “There are men who have lascivious natures when it comes to children, but they are usually gender-specific in their taste. If they seek to abuse boys, they don’t often have any appetite for girls. The opposite also holds true. If they prefer girls, boys do not interest them.”
Daniel’s stomach churned. He had given thought to this particular motive for stealing children, and it sickened him. There was no legal punishment too harsh for men with such evil proclivities. But he could not be too narrow-minded when it came to assessing the possibilities just yet, else he might overlook a clue that would unravel the entire case in another direction.
“I’ve got a clerk and the new office boy at Bow Street searching our criminal records for cases similar to this, and a charge went out to the night watchmen and magistrates around the city inquiring if there are other children missing or if anyone has encountered anything that might tie into our investigation. To my knowledge these efforts have turned up no new information.”
“We must return again to the mind behind this crime.” Rosebreen tapped the table. “This man is skilled. He is strong and agile enough to kill the footman and make off with the child quickly, but clever enough to surprise attack a grown man in his own office. In the children he identifies victims that fit a particular need of his own. In both cases, he’s not frenzied but shrewd. He is willing to kill to carry out his plans, murdering anyone who gets in his way. I assume no one has come forward as a witness to these abductions or murders?”
“Beyond an employee at the Olympian Club reporting a man rounding a dark corner and hopping into a carriage of some sort about the time of the Haskett murder and an old groom from Eaton Square seeing a dark figure kill the footman and carry off the boy, no, we’ve no witnesses. There was no child abducted from the gaming club. No child worked there. The only thing linking the cases is the strange murder weapon.” Daniel rolled his shoulders. “I did find some ledgers of Haskett’s late last night, and today’s task is to decipher them, as some of the entries are in a private code of Haskett’s. Perhaps the motive for his murder lies in his own bookkeeping. The killer may have an entirely different motive for killing Haskett than he has for kidnapping children.” He paused. “Have either of you heard of a man named Bobby Puck?”
Rhynwick shook his head, but Rosebreen paused. His eyes went unfocused as he stared through the window into the distance.
“Do you know him?” Daniel asked. “I found the name in the Haskett ledgers, but not as a customer. More like a personal note Haskett wrote himself.” He consulted his notebook. “‘Bobby Puck is no more. It’s H.C. now. Foot in two worlds. Must ensure he doesn’t crush me with those heavy boots of his.’”
Finally, Rosebreen stirred. “That is a name I have not heard in a long time. When I was a physician at St. Bart’s, a man was brought in badly beaten. His companions carried him inside and threw him on the floor at my feet. The smaller of the two said, ‘This is what happens when you try to steal from Bobby Puck.’ They left without another word.” He blinked, focusing on Daniel’s face. “That must have been all of eight years ago. I haven’t heard the name since, but it was such an unusual happening, I remembered it. The victim died, by the by.”
“Bobby Puck sounds like a charming individual. The note is newer than eight years, as the ledger I found it in was for the year 1812. Did you get the sense that either of the men who brought the victim in was Bobby Puck himself, or that they were merely the messengers?”
Rosebreen shook his head. “I got the feeling they were acting on behalf of someone else.”
“I’ll have a clerk search the archives at Bow Street. If Bobby Puck was in the business of having men beaten to death, he probably has other crimes to his name.” Daniel rose, and Rhynwick bounded to his feet like a schoolboy let out of class.
“If I find anything more, I will contact you. Good day.” And he was off like a linnet.
Rosebreen smiled as he rose to his feet. “Brilliant. But eccentric. I heard he was being considered for membership in the Royal Academy of Science. He would be the youngest member if approved, but there are some who are holding out against him for his lack of experience.”
“They would be foolish not to admit him and learn from him. I feel the most acute sense of ignorance when he’s around. As if he’s tolerating the sluglike pace of my mind as his races leagues ahead.”
“When it comes to the men of the Royal Academy of Science, it isn’t his lack of experience that will keep the members from embracing Rhynwick into their midst. But rather it’s that those who consider themselves the most brilliant minds in the land do not wish to appear unlearned next to a dynamic intellect housed in such a youthful person. They hold the power in the situation, and Rhynwick will be hard pressed to be accepted if they are afraid of his intelligence.”
“Have you noticed how often people in positions of power abuse that power?” Sir Michael, the Royal Academy, even the Prince Regent, all given intelligence and power by God, but not always using their position to help others. Should God ever grant Daniel any power, he would use it for good instead of taking advantage of others through wielding it.
Of course he had some power, that given him by his office as a Bow Street investigator, and he tried to wield that power equably, though the criminals he arrested might disagree. And for that matter, how would Owen feel Daniel used his position? Daniel grimaced. There was no doubt they’d rubbed each other up the wrong way at times, but he was trying to get on with him, to mentor him. Ed had been correct to remind Daniel of his obligation to do right by the boy.
They stepped out of the coffeehouse, and Rosebreen headed back to his office a few blocks away. Daniel hailed a carriage, noting the horses, a matched pair of bays.
He needed to check in with Ed and Owen at Bow Street. Perhaps they had discovered something that would move this case along.
“I’ve found no similarities, sir, in these missing children and the others in our files. Either the age is wrong, or the perpetrator was found and had a connection to the missing child.” The clerk, Mr. Berry, held a folder behind his crossed arms. A pencil stuck out from behind his ear, and he had dust on his face from combing through the archives. “The truth is, children are easy to lose and difficult to identify. London’s streets are full of urchins with no supervision or care, scrambling up to full grown all on their own. The mortality rate amongst these people is staggering. More than a third of all children die before age two. Those who do survive do not have an easy life.”
Caleb, the new office boy, stood behind Mr. Berry, holding a stack of files, the wisdom of the ages in his young eyes. He had no doubt experienced this difficult life.
Daniel nodded, sobered by these terrible statistics. “I have a new task for you both. Sift through the archives for the name Bobby or Robert Puck. If you find anything, inform me immediately.”
Mr. Berry took the new orders well, but the boy’s shoulders sagged, and he scowled, no doubt discouraged by more file searching, but he would have to get used to such chores. The office boy must do as he was told.
“I know it’s daunting and does not seem glamorous, but I assure you, Caleb, you’re doing important work. More cases are solved by following the paper trail than any other method.”
The boy’s chin came up, and he nodded. A spark of warmth hit Daniel in the chest at having encouraged the lad.
The clerk sniffed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Very well, Mr. Swann. Sir Michael wished me to direct you to his office after I had given my report.”
“Thank you.” Another confrontation with his superior. Not the best way to get on with his day.
As Mr. Berry and the boy left the investigators’ room, Owen entered. “The accountant says he will come this afternoon to look over those ledgers.”
“Good.”
“What should I do next?”
Daniel took a moment to marvel at the change in Owen. Over the last few weeks, as he had become more involved in cases, his eagerness for work had increased and his surliness toward Daniel had lessened.
“Wait here. You and I are going out after I’ve seen Sir Michael.”
“Good luck.” Owen grinned. A flash of sympathy lit his blue eyes, and Daniel appreciated the sentiment.
I may need it.
Daniel tapped on the doorframe and entered the Biddle lair. “You wished to see me, sir?”
“Close the door.” Sir Michael’s eyes were icy.
When Daniel once again stood on the carpet before the desk, his hands clasped behind him, Sir Michael placed his palms flat on the blotter. “I understand you removed some ledgers from the Olympian Club last night?”
“Yes, sir.” How had Sir Michael known? Daniel hadn’t told him, and only Owen had been aware of it, for Daniel had sent him to procure the services of the accountant not an hour before.
“You will return them to the club without delay and without examining them.”
“Sir? They are evidence in a murder investigation.”
“They are not germane to the case and therefore not necessary to keep.”
“Sir, how can you say they are unnecessary before we’ve had them examined?”
“Do not be impertinent. There is sensitive information in those books, powerful men and women who would not care to have a mere policeman meddling in their personal affairs. If they knew those details were in the hands of a common investigator …” He shook his head, looking down his long nose. “I will not have private details of the aristocracy leaking out to the broadsheets and newspapers.”
Light dawned. Either this was an attempt by Sir Michael to curry favor with the great and powerful who might feel compromised should word get out about their gambling failures, or someone listed in that book was leaning on him to keep the matter hushed.
“Sir, I cannot return the property to the Olympian Club without a magistrate’s permission. A magistrate signed the warrant instructing me to remove all records and paperwork from Mr. Haskett’s office. Whether or not those records might prove an embarrassment to someone is irrelevant. Whether or not those records might prove someone had a motive to murder Mr. Haskett is extremely relevant.”
Red suffused Sir Michael’s face. “Am I to take it you are disobeying a direct order?”
“You may take it that I am refusing to disobey a magistrate’s orders. If you prefer, we could go upstairs to the courts and locate Lord Creevy, who signed the order, and confer with him as to his wishes.”
“Where are those books?”
Daniel said nothing.
“You are walking on a knife-edge, Mr. Swann. Where are those books? I will return them myself.”
A hollow feeling opened in the pit of Daniel’s stomach, but he stood firm. “Sir Michael, I regret that I cannot accede to your wishes, for to do so would be to obstruct an investigation. Mr. Haskett deserves justice, and I cannot violate the law, no matter who might be embarrassed by where the investigation takes me. My duty is clear.”
Daniel hoped Sir Michael would hear the warning in his tone. The supervisor was perilously close to an obstruction charge himself. Perhaps it was time for a bit of oil on the water.
“Sir, I have made certain the ledgers are in safekeeping and will be examined by only myself and an accountant who has worked with this office in the past and has proven himself trustworthy. All information not pertinent to the case will be ignored. If nothing turns up in the records, they will be returned to the Olympian Club in good time. That is the best I can do.” He spread his hands. “I have no choice.”
“You certainly do have a choice. I cannot allow those names to be read. It would be a disaster.” A pleading tone entered his voice, desperation invading his eyes.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. “Is there something I should know? Something pertinent to the case?”
Sir Michael leaned back sharply. “Of course not. Don’t be foolish. It’s the privacy of certain individuals I am seeking to safeguard from prying eyes.”
“I will take the utmost care to keep those records confidential. Only the killer needs worry about what I may find there.”
Sir Michael fumed, but there was little he could do if Daniel refused to obey. With the Duke of Haverly’s patronage, Daniel could not be fired for this offense. Whoever Sir Michael was seeking to shield, he did not outrank Haverly. Which meant it wasn’t a royal duke, because royalty itself was the only possible rank higher than Haverly’s.
“If you insist upon keeping the ledgers, then they should be made secure. Bring them to this office, and I will lock them away.”
“The ledgers are quite secure where they are.” He could not let Sir Michael “safeguard” the evidence. The moment he had possession of the books, they could well disappear. “Unless you would prefer to visit Lord Creevy, the magistrate who signed the warrant?”
Sir Michael’s eyes narrowed. Of all the magistrates in the Bow Street courts, Lord Creevy caused the most friction. He was a stickler for following the law, and he called to the carpet any investigator, or supervisor of investigators, who failed to maintain the integrity of evidence or failed to do his utmost to ensure public safety. He and Sir Michael had crossed swords before.
“See that you keep those volumes under lock and key, and return them to the club with all possible speed. Now get out.”
Daniel returned to the investigators’ room and motioned to Owen.
“You survived.” Owen quirked a smile. “You have more lives than a cat.”
Daniel said nothing, his gut tight. Fighting with Sir Michael was wearing, but soon that battle of wills would end. Either Daniel would be an earl, or he would be out of work. He and Owen walked out of the building and around the corner toward Drury Lane. A new shoeshine boy sat beside his box and chair on the corner, and when Daniel met his eye, the child hustled forward.
“Thine, thir? Only a penny.” He grinned, his middle upper teeth missing and causing the lisp. “I’ll make your booths bright.”
Daniel nodded, taking a seat in the battered wooden chair and sticking out his boot. “I’ll pay two pennies if you’ll answer some questions.”
Owen dug out his notebook and pencil.
“Yes, thir!” The boy swept up a rag and began wiping the dust from Daniel’s boots.
“Your name?”
“Thebastian.”
“Sebastian what?”
He shrugged. “Just Thebastian.”
“Do you have parents?”
“No.” He glanced up, wary. “I take care of mythelf.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to haul you off to an orphanage. I’m looking for the boy who worked this patch before you. Did you know him?”
“Yeth. Matthew. No one knows where he went.” The boy opened a tin of boot black and dabbed another rag into it, swirling and rubbing it into the uppers and toe of Daniel’s boots. “He wath my friend.”
“I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to find him. If you have no parents, where do you sleep? Does anyone look after you?”
He brightened, giving his gap-toothed smile. “Oh yeth, I have a place. Dougie looks after uth. We have two rooms, one for boys and one for girls, with lots of beds, and Dougie’s wife, Mrs. Dougie, makes thoup. I do get tired of thoup, but thoup can feed lots of people for not much money. And Dougie doesn’t have much money. But what he does have, he thpends on us.” The boy set to work with a will, expertly popping the rag between buffing. “We all help. We bring our earnings from each day to Mrs. Dougie, and she buys potatoes and carrots, and thometimes, chicken.”
He spoke as if chicken were a rare and beautiful thing.
“How many children live with Dougie?”
Sebastian sat back on his heels and screwed up his face. “It changes. Thome kids thtay for a night, and thome, like me, have been there a long time. I came at near Chrithmas, when my old guv died. Dougie found me and my brother and brought us to his house.”
“Does Dougie treat you well?” The child looked fed, his clothes were worn but tidy, and he was passably clean.
“I ain’t been beat once thince I went to his house. Me and my brother have a bed all to ourselves, with a blanket.” Again the wonder of such luxury. “We hafta go to church, and at night, we hafta learn our letters, but ith the best place I ever lived.”
The boots were done, and well done at that. Daniel handed over the two coins, which promptly disappeared into a buttoned pocket. Sebastian looked hopefully at Owen, but Owen shook his head. “We have to be moving along.”
“One last question. Where is this Dougie’s house?”
“Thurston Row, over the Blackfriars Bridge.”
“Thank you.”
“Where is Thurston Row?” Owen asked as they walked away.
“We’ll have to ask someone. I’ve never heard of it.”
Owen shoved his hands into his pockets, matching step with Daniel. “Where to next?”
“I want to question a variety of street children, to see if any of them know or saw anything. First, we’ll go to the corner where your little crossing sweeper went missing, then we need to head to Berkeley Square and find flower sellers or other children in the area.”
“What about the boy who worked in the pub kitchen?” Owen asked.
“Yes, we’ll talk to as many as we can in each of the areas where we know a child was taken.”
“Might be faster if we separate.”
“No, this is part of your training. The next child we question, you take the lead.”
Owen’s stride lengthened, and Daniel hid a smile. He well remembered, just a few years ago, his own eagerness as a newly minted investigator and how Ed had taken him under his wing and taught him how to solve crimes.
