I went back to our rooms and watched from the street for ten minutes. Nobody came or went and there was no sign of anyone within so I went over and unlocked the door and let myself in. The place seemed strangely empty and lifeless without the children or Mrs Marshall there and I realised then quite how much animation they brought to the place and what was missing now that they had gone.
Nonetheless, sad though I was, I was glad to be alone. I had managed to put them outside Billy Tucker's grasp for the time being. Tiny's words came back to me and I knew that they were true; this thing would not be over until one of us was below ground.
At least this way, if that person turned out to be me, the children would not be harmed in the process, although I shuddered to think what would happen to them without me there to look after them.
I pulled out my strongbox from beneath the cabinet, unlocked it and took out a small mahogany case slightly larger than a bread tin. I unlocked it and took out the brace of pistols it contained. I checked the flints and the action of the triggers. I banked up the fire and took out the moulds and the lead and made myself some bullets. Although I doubted that under any circumstances I would need more than two, it's always best to be prepared.
Once the bullets had cooled I set them aside and primed the pistols and then loaded them. Tonight Bart Tobin would not be the only man present with a gun. And if I did not need the guns for Bart I was sure I could always find a use for them with Billy Tucker. This thing needed to be settled.
I did not feel any safer carrying a loaded gun. Arming yourself with a deadly weapon always implies that you might have to use it, and that brings up the possibility of killing another human being or being killed yourself, neither of which is particularly reassuring.
My thoughts circled back to Billy Tucker and what would happen when next we met. I had absolutely no doubt that he would try and make good on his threat to kill me slowly and painfully. The question was whether I was prepared to kill him quickly and mercilessly.
You would think that under the circumstances that my course would have been clear and there would be no doubt in my mind. It was him or me, kill or be killed. Those are easy things to say, and sometimes, in the heat of deadly combat they are also true. But when you're sitting in your own living room feeling the weight of a gun in your hand and weighing life and death, things are not so simple.
Murder is a mortal sin. And taking another human life in cold blood is murder. There have been times when I have thought I have lost all faith in God, but somehow I have never quite lost my faith in hell.
And leaving aside the metaphysical aspects of the thing, there is also the fact that murder is a crime punishable by hanging. Since I had no desire to either be hung or to go to hell, I was not without my reservations about killing Billy. And those are doubts that can get you killed when your life is on the line and split-second decisions are called for.
I managed to work myself into a fair old state by the time I set out for my meeting with Mr Soames.
I knew things were about to go badly wrong when I saw that Amanda Mayhew was with her uncle in Henry Lassiter’s elegant Threadneedle Street office. She stood triumphantly behind the ornate chair in which her uncle sat and they presented a united front towards me.
Lassiter was in his mid-40s, respectably dressed in superfine, black broadcloth. His hair was grey and he had a way of stroking his chin that made you suspect he was drawing attention to his very striking features. His voice was surprisingly rough for a lawyer. By that I don’t mean that he sounded common, but rather that his voice had a rasping sound that made it sound unconsidered and therefore trustworthy. Like his appearance, his voice was deceptive.
“Mr Brodie,” he said. He rubbed his hands together unctuously, like someone preparing to smooth over an argument that has not quite broken out yet. “Early as ever. I’ve never known this man to miss an appointment, Mr Soames.”
“I’ve always found Mr Brodie to be punctual myself,” said Soames. He still had a faintly embarrassed look about him and he smelled of Mr Lassiter’s fine port. I suppose it made a change from the brandy. Miss Mayhew looked pale-faced but determined, and I was not sure that her uncle could match her strength of will. In fact, it looked like that particular battle had already been lost.
Before Mr Soames opened his mouth I knew what he was going to say.
“Mr Brodie, my niece has made me see sense, and she has shown me where right and justice lie. I wish you to arrest the men who stole my property so that I may lodge a private prosecution against them.”
My mouth felt suddenly dry. I looked first at his face and then at hers. He looked old and embarrassed and more than a little shaken. Her face was grimly resolute. “I'm not sure that will be possible, sir.”
“What do you mean, Mr Brodie?” Significantly it was Amanda who spoke.
“I mean that the meeting has already been set up and if I call in the police, the criminals may sense something wrong and take flight. If they do that, they may dispose of your uncle's property in such a manner that we may never recover it.”
“There were a lot of mays in that statement, Mr Brodie,” she said. “If we turn that around we discover that you may be able to catch them and you may be able to recover my uncle's property simultaneously.”
“That is true, Miss. But there are other things to take into account as well.”
“Such as?”
“Such is the fact that these are very desperate men and that if I attempt to apprehend them they may do me harm.”
“Are you saying that you are afraid?”
I gestured to my bruised face, even the effort to do that made me wince. “I'm afraid I am, Miss.”
“Are you saying that you won't do it?” There was an odd ominous tone in her voice now, and you could see the spoiled child coming out of it. I realised for the first time that she was someone used to having her way and, for whatever reason, she was determined to have it now.
“I'm merely pointing out that the course you're recommending is more difficult and fraught with far more risks than the one we had already determined on.”
“Is it possible that you are in league with these robbers, Mr Brodie? That you don't want them captured?”
In a sense, she was correct and it gave her the advantage in this argument. I did not want these particular robbers captured and that was for certain. My reputation, and thus my entire livelihood, would be destroyed among the criminal fraternity if it looked like Bart had been lured into a trap and then arrested after having made a deal with me. On top of that, I owed Bart my life which he had saved, however reluctantly, from Billy Tucker. She sensed my hesitation and went for the jugular.
“I'm afraid that if you do not arrest these men Mr Brodie I shall have to report your involvement in this matter to the police. You have been able to track the robbers down and you will be able to help them in their inquiries.”
The threat was perfectly clear. They did, after all, have the letter I had recovered from Bart, and they would have the testimony of Jane Bullock too no doubt. They could make a case against me that might just stand up in court. And even if it didn't, they could destroy my reputation among respectable folk and make sure that I was never hired by well-off clients again. That would be a form of ruin just as certain and just as fatal to my career as betraying Bart. And in that case, I would most likely not even get the reward, and I needed that badly for Rachel's sake.
A rather nastily triumphant smile spread across Amanda Mayhew's lovely face. Mr Soames had the good grace to say, “Now, my dear, there is no need to talk to Mr Brodie that way. He's only trying to help us, after all.”
“He's being paid to help us, uncle.” Mr Soames shrugged helplessly and turned his beseeching gaze upon me. He seemed to be pleading for my understanding but he was not prepared to go against his niece.
“What is it to be, Mr Brodie?” She asked. I stared at her for a moment, trying to find a way out of the dilemma, but couldn't.
“
I shall see what I can do.”
Soames's face brightened. “If you capture those men, I shall increase the reward to 100 sovereigns.”
I almost said; why not make it 30 pieces of silver? But I didn't. The thing to do now was to try and buy some time until I could come up with a plan that would not end up with my ruin.
“I shall still need the money to settle the deal.”
“Why?” asked Miss Mayhew.
“Because it will lull their suspicions and thus make the matter less risky. And don’t worry, we shall catch them in possession of the gold which will mean your money will not be at risk.”
I was flailing around like a drowning man, trying to keep matters under my control. I did not doubt for a moment that Miss Mayhew, and thus her uncle, was capable of turning me over to the police if it suited her. There was a long silence before she finally nodded her approval and her uncle said yes.
Lassiter said. “So you are going to arrest the miscreants.”
“I’m going to try.”
“You don’t sound very confident,” said Miss Mayhew. “Surely you and the police will prove more than a match for these robbers.”
“The police are not going to be there.”
“Are you sure that’s wise, Mr Brodie.” Soames looked a little concerned.
“I’m not. I’m not sure it’s wise to try and apprehend these men at all. But if I’m going to make the attempt it would be better to take them unawares. Having a lot of policemen around will merely give the game away and give them time to get away, taking your papers and your bills with them.”
“How will you arrest the robbers on your own?”
I opened my coat to reveal the two pistols stuck in my belt. A hush spread over the room as all present considered the implications of that revelation.
“You’d best listen to Mr Brodie, my dear Mr Soames,” said Lassiter. “He’s been doing this for a very long time and he’s quite the expert on the subject.”
“Are you absolutely certain that you wish me to arrest the robbers, Mr Soames? Even if it means taking the risk of not getting your papers back.”
“Yes,” said Amanda.
Soames looked thoughtful and not a little nervous. “Amanda has convinced me that it is the right thing to do. Those men should be punished for breaking into my house and terrorising my servants and my family.”
Lassiter nodded as if he completely agreed with what Mr Soames had said. He had done the same when I spoke but he was more emphatic now. I only paid him a referral fee. Mr Soames was a regular client. Soames wasn’t finished though.
“I understand that I’m asking you to put your life at risk and I want you to know that I appreciate it. If you capture these men I will pay you a bonus. And any reward that should come from the successful prosecution.”
It was a generous offer but then Mr Soames was not offering to share the risks.
“Well the hour is getting late and I suppose Mr Brodie will want to see the money.” Lassiter was all business now. He opened his strongbox and produced several large, clinking pouches.
“Is it really necessary for you to take this money, Mr Brodie, if you’re going to arrest the men anyway.” Miss Mayhew asked.
“Yes. I want these men to be found in possession of the gold.”
“Why?” asked Mister Soames.
“Because the gold is yours. And should Miss Mayhew decide that it is necessary to lodge a prosecution against me for receiving, she will also have to lodge one against you.”
Mr Soames sputtered. “I say, that’s a bit rum.”
“It’s merely a matter of insurance, sir. When the men are captured I will say it was bait for the trap. However, should Miss Mayhew decide to tell the police a different story, I shall do the same.”
Miss Mayhew gave me a tight-lipped smile but she did not object. She really wasn’t in any position to.
“I’m not sure I should be hearing this,” said Henry Lassiter. He could not quite conceal a smirk though. He understood my logic.
“Are you sure you still want me to go through with this, Mr Soames? Or would you rather go with the original plan?”
Mr Soames looked a lot more thoughtful now, as he should have, as now, at least in one sense, he was sharing the risk. He looked from my face to Lassiter’s face like a trapped animal. I had hoped that by pressuring him like this I might be able to convince him to go back to the original plan, but he surprised me by showing some spine. Or perhaps it was simply that he was more afraid of Miss Mayhew’s displeasure than of my implied threat.
“Uncle,” said Amanda Mayhew. The note of warning was very evident in her voice.
“I believe that arresting those men is the right thing to do.”
And a few nights ago, he had believed that compounding with them had been the right thing to do but I did not point that out to him.
I picked up the bags. They were very heavy but I opened them and began counting out the coins. They were all there, which was exactly what I expected, for Henry Lassiter was a very meticulous man. I wrote out a receipt for the money and kept a copy for myself.
After that was done I loaded the gold sovereigns into a black leather travelling bag, turned and bowed to Mr Soames and Miss Mayhew.
“Good luck, Mr Brodie,” Amanda Mayhew said.
“Thank you, Miss Mayhew, I’m going to need it.”
I took a cab from Lassiter’s office to the docks, not wanting to risk the walk. I had plenty of time to brood on what Miss Mayhew’s intervention might mean for the evening’s work. Anger simmered in my brain, mingling with assorted fears to form a potent witch’s brew.
I supposed I could not really blame her. She had a lot to be angry about herself. Bart Tobin and his gang had broken into her house and menaced her at knifepoint. They had threatened her uncle and her servants, who I suppose, isolated as she was, were the closest things to friends that she had. It was understandable that she wanted those men brought to justice.
As the horse’s hooves echoed on the cobblestones and the driver clucked softly, I wondered what I was going to do. A meeting such as this was always devilishly tricky. Both parties came to it with a lot of money and a lot at risk. Both sides were heavily armed and had cause for mistrust.
I’ve known similar situations so tense that it seemed all but certain that they would come to bloodshed, and sometimes they did. The last thing I needed was to get into a gunfight with Bart Tobin, which was what it would come to if I tried to welch on our deal. Bart was a sight too quick with his hands for me to want to get into that sort of conflict with him and doubtless he would bring along at least Fat Frank as a reinforcement for his side.
On the best night of my life, they were not a pair of men that I would have wanted to get on the wrong side of -- and tonight was far from the best night of my life. My bruises and the beating I had taken and the after-effects of the tincture of opium would all slow me down. If I had really wanted to make the arrest, I would have been much better going for Tom Barker and some of his bobbies. The problem was that I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.
Like I said, I was angry with Miss Mayhew and that made me pig-headed. I did not want to be compelled to do something against my will and my best interests simply because she wanted it to be so. If I let her do that, I would simply be just another man like her uncle, bent to her will, and without the benefits of her uncle’s position or money.
And I felt like I’d been played for a fool, told that I was going to be doing one thing, and then compelled to do another in a way that made me into a traitor to those I dealt with. I did not want to think of myself as a puppet that danced when Miss Mayhew or her uncle pulled the strings.
I told myself not to be a fool. I had no idea how the evening would turn out. Bart might play me false. He might be contemplating treachery of his own. I was carrying a small fortune with me, and he might decide that he wanted that too, without paying for it. He was, after all, a robber.
And that brought anot
her thought to my mind, one that I’m not very proud of, but which was natural under the circumstances. I was in a hansom cab and I was carrying a bag containing £400, a sum that could keep me and mine for several years anywhere in the United Kingdom and probably for a lot longer overseas.
What was to stop me taking the money, seeking out my children and getting on the next ferry to France? I knew how difficult it would be for the law to catch me there for I’d had to make some pursuits to Paris back when I was a Runner. From France, it was easy enough to catch a ship to the United States where they spoke English. With all that gold it would be easy enough to purchase some land.
For a moment, a dazzling vision of a new life under open skies in a free land danced before my mind. Rachel would have clean air. Donald would have a place where he did not have to bow down before our lords and masters simply because they had been born into a higher place than us. I would not have to worry about Billy Tucker or any other shadow from my past creeping up on me and threatening my life and the welfare of my children.
My hand tightened on the handle of the bag. I was truly tempted. I really was.
In that moment I felt as if my whole life was hanging in the balance. All it would have taken was the slightest impetus from any direction to push me onto a different path, one where my life would be much different. It really seemed possible that I could escape from this vast desolate labyrinth of streets and find a place for myself and my family somewhere else.
I raised my head and was about to tell the driver to take me to the station and not to the docks, and as I did so, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a tall policeman in his tunic and top hat and he reminded me of many things.
He reminded me of all the times I had stood watch on these very streets myself, seeking to prevent crime and not to commit it. I had spent most of my lifetime, one way or another, doing that. I had met my wife here and watched my children being born and in some cases dying. I had been in love and happy and sad and scared. My life was inextricably woven up with the streets and these sad, tired looking people, far more so than it was with the country in which I had been born. It was in many ways my home and I was too old to leave it.