Children of the Shadows, page 23
Ed’s brows went up, and Owen stopped fiddling with the quill.
“Truth is, I did some terrible things in my younger days. I was told I was born in Whitechapel and dropped at the Foundling Hospital the same day. Abandoned children are often left with a token that would identify them to their parents if they should ever come back for them. The token left to me was a wine cork, so you can guess that my mother was probably a drunk. She never came back to claim me, and when I was about eight years old, I ran away. I became a street kid.”
Daniel said nothing, but Cadogan’s admission made the house on Sureton Row, the refuge for street children, plausible.
“I was canny and totally without morals. I was light fingered, stealing whenever I wanted. I slept wherever I could find a place, and you had to fight for those places. I thrashed other kids, stole a dagger and kept it with me always, and lived by my wits. When I was about ten, an older boy befriended me, and before I knew it, I was part of his street mob. We terrorized people, smashing windows, stealing food, clothes, possessions. We made lots of money stealing gin barrels and selling them at the back doors of public houses. As we became men, the crimes got bigger. Some of the boys started running houses of ill repute, some gambling dens, and some started receiver shops to move stolen goods. If there was a way to make money illegally, we were probably doing it.” He wasn’t boasting, merely stating facts, almost as if talking about someone else.
“And what was your particular expertise?”
“Running a street gang of kids like I had once been. I was in charge, I had a first-rate cannon, and the rest were learning fast. But I wasn’t the top boss. We all answered to one man, someone a few years older than us—the fellow who had recruited all of us to work for him.” He shook his head. “Then one of my boys tried to rob the wrong man. He got caught with his hand in the man’s pocket, and quick as puffing out a candle flame, the man stabbed him. The boy lived for an hour or so, and my crew carried him home. He died in my arms, and at that moment, I had to ask myself, what was I doing? I had taught that boy to steal. I had been responsible for him, and now he was dead. I had misused my power over that boy, and it cost him his life.” Cadogan put his head into his hands. “I knew I had to change my life. I couldn’t be responsible for another boy’s death.”
Daniel waited. How had he never known this of Cadogan? Never even suspected it?
Had never bothered to ask.
“I learned quickly that you can’t just leave an organization like that. The leader had a strict code.”
“How did you escape?”
“Money. I had to pay. I didn’t have nearly enough for the price he set, because I didn’t just want to buy my way out. I wanted my whole crew. Six boys. I only knew one way to get the money.” He shrugged. “I was a fair thief, but I also had another skill. I hit the gaming tables. Raised like I was, I knew every trick, so I could see it coming. I did well. I earned enough to buy the boys’ freedom and to buy the carriage and Sprite and Lola. After that I stayed away from the gambling halls, until recently. One of my kids came to me and said a fancy-dressed man had tried to grab him off the street when he was on his way home. He described the man down to his rose tiepin. I knew it was Jericho Haskett. He was one of the boys I used to run with, and I remember the night he stole that pin.”
Daniel felt as if he’d taken a blow to the gut.
“I was at the Olympian Club the night he died.” Cadogan straightened and grabbed the bars, letting the blanket fall to the stone floor. “I argued with him. But I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. When I bought my way out of the organization, I started looking for something better to fill my life. I don’t know how, but I wound up in a little church in Limehouse. A Methodist church, of all things. But they taught me that there was forgiveness for my sins—even sins as terrible as mine—and a better way to live. Since that day I’ve tried to live my life the way God says to in His Book. Murder is a sin, and I would never take a life.”
Daniel motioned for Owen to begin taking notes.
“You confronted Haskett about trying to take the boy?”
“He said he was recruiting them to fill a new street crew. I told him I wouldn’t stand by and let it happen to more children. Ed says you’ve been to my house. You know I keep rooms for children with no place to go. My wife helps me look after them, and we try to find positions for them and honest ways they can earn their keep. Every little bit helps when there are so many to feed. Haskett had promised one of the boys from my house money, a chance to get rich enough to buy fancy clothes and have a soft bed every night, and everything he could want to eat.” Cadogan scuffed the floor with his foot. “I’ve tried to teach the children that there are mean men out there who might try to hurt them, or lie to them, convince them to do something they shouldn’t. Sad bit is, most of them already know it through hard lessons. And this little chap was smart enough to remember what he’d learned. He ran away and told me what had happened. That’s when I went to see Haskett. The night he was killed.”
“What time was this?”
“After I dropped the last fare for the night. Picked up two gentlemen outside Covent Gardens and took them to a townhouse north of the City proper. It was after midnight, but not by much. I didn’t want anyone to see me enter the club, in case there were others from my past still working for Jericho, so I waited until one of the waiters came out the back door and left it ajar. I slipped in and found Haskett’s office. He was counting coins like a miser. I closed the door, and we had words. I told him to stick to fleecing gamblers. They’re adults who can walk away whenever they choose.”
“Was he shocked to see you after such a long time? How did he take your demand?”
“He wasn’t shocked, because I had borrowed money from him in the past and had seen him not long before to pay off what I owed. I had come into a bit of money when my uncle died, which is where I got the funds to pay him and to buy the new mare. Haskett thought I had come to borrow more, but I told him I was there because he’d tried to recruit one of my boys. When I told him to leave kids alone, he said he wasn’t working for himself. He had an order to fill. And he brought back a name from the past that I thought I had left far behind me. Bobby Puck.”
Daniel straightened. “Bobby Puck? You know him?”
“I knew him when I was in that life. He was one of the top boys in the organization. Real close to our boss. Then he disappeared. He was about my age, and I always thought he would take over from the boss. He was intelligent, cunning. All the boys followed him, whether out of loyalty or fear, I don’t know. Then he was gone one day. Rumor was the head man suspected he was coming for his position and got rid of him first, or that he’d finally been caught and sent to prison somewhere. Turns out Puck had done a runner like I had, only he didn’t get out of the crime business like me. He branched out. Changed his name, found employment, and now lives a double life. Respectable on the outside but an out-and-out criminal on the inside. And he is up to his old tricks, getting his hands on young boys and grooming them to flourish in a life of crime.”
“What is the name Puck is using now?”
“Haskett wouldn’t tell me. I tried to get it out of him, but he was more afraid of Puck than of me. I heard someone coming up the back stairs, and I knew I had to get away. If Puck knew I was nosing about the edges of his business, he would certainly be capable of snuffing me out.” Cadogan shrugged.
“If you didn’t kill Haskett, how did his possessions get into your carriage strongbox? The pin and the purse that Owen recovered?” It was the largest accusation in the proceedings. The murdered man’s things hidden in Cadogan’s carriage.
“I saw the pin on Haskett, but I didn’t take it, and I certainly never saw his coin purse. I surmise that whoever killed Haskett must have seen me leaving, known me, and decided to put the blame on me for the murder.”
Owen’s pen scratched away. Daniel looked at Ed. In his gut he felt Cadogan was telling the truth, though the evidence all pointed to the carriage driver.
“So this mystery killer knows you and is framing you for the murder? Who do you know who would want to kill Haskett and see you take the blame for it?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’ve been out of that life for a long time. I paid my way out, so I owe no one from that time. The boys I brought with me when I left, they’re grown and living good lives. I found employment for them, saw them trained as apprentices. Some still contact me from time to time. We’re all on good terms.”
“It has to be someone. Think.”
“Haven’t I been doing that for hours?” He paced the narrow cell. “I can only assume someone working for Puck got to Haskett, and Haskett told him I was making noise about the children. But why kill Haskett? Why not come after me?”
“We don’t have enough information to draw those conclusions. Perhaps Haskett needed dealing with for motives yet unknown, and the killer solved two problems at once by snuffing him and seeing you take the blame.”
They were all silent as they considered this.
“Did you grab Haskett’s wrist when you confronted him?” Daniel asked.
Cadogan paused. “I might have. He got up from behind his desk, and he dove for the door. I shoved him away. I may have grabbed his wrist. Why?”
“Several substances were found on his right wrist that have been identified as grease, pollen, and horsehair. All items found in your carriage.”
“I know it looks bad, but when I left Haskett, he was very much alive. Surely someone saw him afterward? Whoever was coming up the stairs. One of the dealers or waiters or staff?” Cadogan gripped the bars.
“No one has come forward to say so. And the coroner estimates his time of death as being not long after midnight.”
“Whoever I heard coming up the stairs must be the killer then.”
“We have no witness but yourself who puts anyone on the back stairs at that time. We do have a witness who saw someone leave the building and get into a carriage.”
Cadogan snapped his fingers. “Well, there you are then.”
Daniel frowned. “Where?”
“It had to be someone else that was seen. I wouldn’t get into my own carriage. I would climb up on the seat and drive away.”
“He’s right.” Owen looked up. “He wouldn’t get inside his own cab.”
The turnkey clanked down the passage. “Are you finished yet? I can’t go to bed until you’re out of the prison.”
Daniel nodded. “Just a few moments more.”
He waited to speak to Cadogan until the warder had gone back down the row. “What you’ve told us tonight is not enough for me to have you released. There is still too much evidence against you. But we will follow up. Ed will check with the servant at the Olympian Club to confirm what he saw. Now that we know Bobby Puck is alive and apparently well, I will begin my search for him.”
“What should I do?” Owen asked.
“Go home. Get some sleep. It will be every man to the work at first light,” Daniel said. “Cadogan, we’ll check what we know against the information you’ve shared here tonight. The evidence is damning, but if you’re innocent, we’ll do our best to prove it.”
As they passed through the gate onto Old Bailey Street, Daniel felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. If there was a chance Cadogan was innocent, he could not let his friend hang for a crime he didn’t commit.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Bertie asked Juliette. He had come to retrieve Juliette from the Haverlys’ house midmorning. Now that he had returned from Dartmoor, she could go back home. But before they went back to Berkeley Square, Juliette prevailed upon him to take her on an errand of mercy.
“Of course. Mr. Cadogan has always been very polite to me, and he saved Daniel’s life.” She held the basket on her lap, swaying to the rocking of the carriage. Charlotte had helped her pack the parcel, though it was difficult to know what might be appropriate under the circumstances.
“You could have entrusted the delivery to me, you know. You don’t have to attend to the errand personally. In fact, I am not altogether certain you’ll be allowed in.”
“I won’t know until I try. If they won’t let me inside, I will wait in the carriage while you take care of it.” She wanted to see the prisoner for herself and to ask how she might be of assistance to him. Not for one moment did she think he had murdered anyone or stolen helpless children off the street, and she did not believe Daniel truly thought so either.
“Marcus told me, while I was waiting for all your bags to be brought down, that though the case against Mr. Cadogan is strong, it seemed there is more afoot than meets the eye.” Bertie covered his mouth as he yawned. “I am too old for these all-night parties. I left at daybreak and only slept an hour or two.”
Juliette felt fatigued as well, her limbs heavy and her thoughts wooly. The night had started so promisingly when Daniel had arrived and partnered her, but the moment he’d left on police business, she’d wished she could wander up to her room and be alone. Of course, as a good guest, she hadn’t, but she’d wanted to.
The dowager had kept her supplied with partners, and Juliette had danced every set but one. When the last was announced, she pleaded exhaustion, apologized to her prospective dance partner, and taken him to sit with her and Charlotte, who was looking as tired as Juliette felt.
Most of the guests were subdued at the expansive breakfast, and the goodbyes had not taken long. By everyone’s comments and compliments, the party had been a raging success and would be talked about for weeks to come.
It was a bit deflating now that it was all over. The planning and anticipation had taken so much time and energy, and now it was a memory. At least Juliette had managed to get a kind word out of the dowager at the end.
“You’ve behaved fairly well this evening. I was able to keep my eye on you every minute.”
Not exactly a glowing report, but better than she’d had in the past from her sometimes chaperone.
Their carriage trundled down the street, turned a corner, and soon they arrived in front of Newgate Prison. Cold stone walls, guarded entrances, and—even here on the sidewalk well away from the inmates—the smell of unwashed humans.
“Stay here.” Bertie reached for the door. “I’ll make inquiries, and if they will allow you inside, I will fetch you.” He muttered under his breath as he got out. “Your father will kill me when he learns I let you talk me into this.”
Juliette hid her smile. Bertie liked to pretend he didn’t care about things, that he lived life on the surface, a dilettante with nothing serious on his mind, but at heart he was kind, observant, intelligent, and capable. He just didn’t want people to know, lest they ask him to do things for them.
He returned quickly. “The guard has said no to your request for an audience with Cadogan. You’ll have to entrust the supplies to my humble self.” He reached for the basket. “I’ll hand it to him once the guard has checked it.”
Juliette frowned. “Are you certain I cannot at least see him?”
“Not this time. Wait here. I’ll not be long.”
She leaned against the squabs and closed her eyes. Her muscles ached a trifle from her exertions last night. It took stamina to dance so many sets, not only physically but mentally. It wouldn’t do to forget the steps. It would be difficult to live down if one caused a collision on the dance floor through ignorance. Not to mention carrying on socially proper conversations with a variety of people. Juliette found making small talk, while a necessary skill for a debutante, draining.
When the carriage door opened once more, Uncle Bertie climbed in, followed by another figure. Her heart lurched.
Daniel. Pleasure shot through her.
“Look who I found wandering the prison courtyard.” Bertie took his seat. “It seems you two think alike. He was here on an errand of mercy as well.”
Daniel smiled as he took the seat across from her. Though she wished he had sat beside her, at least this way she could see his face. “You are looking well, Lady Juliette, especially with such a lack of sleep. Your uncle told me about your generosity to Cadogan, and he’s graciously offered me a ride to my next destination.”
“Are you returning to Bow Street?”
“No, I am going across the river to Cadogan’s house. I promised him I would check on his wife and his horses. I questioned him last night, and I thought of a few more things to ask him this morning.”
Bertie leaned back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I knew the moment I heard of his errand that you would insist upon going along.”
“I do insist. I very much wish to meet Mrs. Cadogan and help her in any way I can. Are you certain of your case against Mr. Cadogan?” she asked Daniel. “I do not mean to question your abilities as an investigator. It just seems so unlikely and out of character on the driver’s part to have harmed anyone.”
“I thought I had a solid case, but now that I’ve heard more of the story, I am beginning to believe Mr. Cadogan is being framed. I wish I had not been so precipitate as to arrest him and have him charged, though I really had no choice in the matter. My governor insisted upon it. He’s particular about wrapping up cases, especially murder cases, quickly. Our task now is to find a person with motive to murder Haskett, steal children, and be certain Cadogan took the blame. I have a lead, but I have not been able to locate the man I seek.”
“What is your lead?” Bertie asked, eyes still closed.
“Bobby Puck. It’s a name I found written in Haskett’s ledgers, and last night I learned Cadogan knew him years ago when Cadogan was a much different man. Dr. Rosebreen had heard of him before as well, and not in a flattering way. It seems this Puck had requested that Haskett help him find young boys to recruit into his organization, boys who would become pickpockets and worse as they grew up. Boys he could groom to fill places in his criminal organization.”
Bertie had straightened at the mention of the man’s name, his eyes opening and focusing on Daniel. “Bobby Puck? I haven’t heard that name in years. When I first started working for the agency, every crime that went unsolved in London was attributed to Bobby Puck. I thought he was a myth.”
