The Mangle Street Murders Part 15

*Can you blame her?'

There were people shouting in the distance.

*Yes. I find it easy to blame people but I blame the police even more.' The shouting was getting louder. *Also, I have checked with Philby's Cutlers on Midden Street and they only ever made two of those knives a a special order for William Ashby.'

*So he was telling the truth about that.'

Sidney Grice tossed his head. *The best lies are always flavoured with the truth but if the substance is rotten, it will stink no matter how much you try to disguise it.'

The hansom stopped and Sidney Grice tapped the roof with his cane and called up to the driver, *What is the delay?'

The driver slid open his hatch and glared down at us. *Road blocked.'

*Then turn round, man.'

*Can't back up with that lot behind me,' the driver said, *and there's no room to turn.'

*Has there been an accident?'

*Trouble,' the driver said and slammed his hatch shut.

*What sort of trouble?' I asked and Sidney Grice looked out.

*A crowd,' he said. *They have upturned a cart of barrels and set fire to it at the junction.'

The hatch slid open.

*My 'orse don't like it,' the driver said. We could feel it shifting restlessly and hear its hooves strike the cobbles.

I leaned out of my side.

*Keep your head in,' Sidney Grice said.

*I have as much right to look as you.'

There was a bonfire at the crossroads ahead and only one hansom between it and us. The fire must have been ten feet high, but it was growing by the minute. Men in rags were running out from an alleyway, throwing planks of wood on top, their faces lit crimson then white, then dissolving into the shadows as they ran back again.

*They must have looted a builder's yard,' my guardian said.

I could hear hammering and a squealing wrench and three men appeared carrying a door, which they swung and tossed into the blaze.

*They will have the street on fire at this rate,' Sidney Grice said. *Where are the police? Cosy behind their desks, no doubt.'

I heard the smashing of gla.s.s.

The driver shouted, *You, behind, back your nag up and let us through.'

*Can't. It's blocked back to Onion Street,' the other driver shouted, *and there's more coming up behind that.'

*Lord help us now.' Sidney Grice half stood to lean out further. *They have broken into a vintner's. It is difficult to reason with any mob, but one with wine in its belly is a very unpredictable beast indeed.'

There was a loud crack as something burst in the middle of the fire and sparks sprayed high into the night, a shower of intense red stars crackling into the sky, glowing as they fell, floating over the rooftops. Then two men appeared, dragging a third between them. His face was down, but in the flaring lights I saw his head clearly. He had a great shock of red hair. The two men lifted him. His body was limp. They raised him higher and flung him on to the pyre. I bit my glove.

*It is a mannequin,' Sidney Grice said. *They still think there is an Italian murderer on the loose.'

An elderly couple in evening-wear got out of the carriage in front and hurried away past my window.

*I suggest you do the same,' my guardian said. *You will be quite safe if you go on to Onion Street and you should be able to hail a cab there.'

*What about you?'

*A gentleman never flees the rabble,' he told me. *They are a pack of dogs and must be subdued or they will rampage through the city and anarchy shall prevail.'

*But-'

My guardian silenced me with a finger to his lips. *And once you have anarchy the whole of society will be teetering on the brink,' he said, *of democracy.'

*But what can you do?'

*Confront them.' Sidney Grice flung the flap open. He stood and waited to help me alight. *Walk briskly but do not run,' he said. *Keep your head up and speak to no one. I shall see you at home.'

*There's a couple of gentry,' a woman's voice called out from the crowd, and half a dozen of them broke away and ran towards us.

*You have money?'

*Yes but-'

*Quickly then, and tell Molly to put the kettle on.' Sidney Grice turned to face them. *Stand back,' he shouted, his voice high and thin against the roar, *or you shall get a taste of my cane.'

The front runner stopped two feet in front of him. He was a big man with strong bared arms and a face covered in circular tattoos, and he grinned at the little man in front of him.

*Try your twig against this, squire,' he said, raising an iron bar like a cudgel.

Sidney Grice darted forwards. He did not try to strike the man with his stick but lunged like a fencer, the tip of his cane catching the man under his chin. The man dropped his bar and clutched his throat.

*You shall all disperse immediately,' Sidney Grice shouted.

*I know you.' A wiry man in a long rabbit-skin coat grinned at him toothily. *You're that detective geezer what started all this, getting an innocent man arrested and leaving our women at the mercy of a dago.'

*I shall not warn you again.' Sidney Grice waved his cane and the man laughed and said, *What, a pipsqueak like you?' Sidney Grice sprang forwards, but the wiry man was ready for him and batted the cane to one side. His fist lashed out and caught my guardian on the temple, and Sidney Grice reeled backwards, his hand to his head. A tall man came from behind and clutched him in a bear hug, and another stepped forwards with a broken bottle.

*Let's see how clever you are now,' he said, waving the jagged edge in his face.

I picked up the bar. It was heavy and I did not want to kill the man with the bottle, so I tapped him just once upon the head. He fell like a dropped doll. I swung the bar at the man who was holding my guardian and caught him on the shoulder. He yelped and let go, but I had only made him angrier. The tall man reached behind himself and brought out a knife. It had a broad straight blade and flashed as he lunged towards me. I raised the bar, but somebody grabbed my wrist and twisted hard. I cried out and the bar clattered on to the road.

Sidney Grice let his hand drop.

*My eye,' he screamed, his empty socket black in the firelight. *They have cut it out.'

The thin man opened his hands and said, *But how?'

*G.o.d help you all now.' Sidney Grice clutched his face again. *It is a hanging offence to put a man's eye out.'

The group looked uncertain.

I put my head down and my hand over my mouth and squawked in my best c.o.c.kney, *Look awt, 'ere come the peelers.'

The group looked about.

*Where?' The thin man tried to peer between them.

The tall man clambered to his feet. *Never mind where. Just get out of 'ere.' They ran back to the main group. *Coppers. Scarper.'

*d.a.m.ned eye fell out and smashed,' Sidney Grice said, *and that was my best one. Come with me, March. This matter is getting out of control. The sooner we get Ashby convicted, the better for everyone.'

*Except him,' I said.

Sidney Grice primped his bow tie, brushed down his cape, looked about him and smiled. *It was probably your accent that scared them more than anything.' But then his face fell. *But I told you to get away.'

*They could have killed you.'

Sidney Grice snorted. *I had the measure of them.'

*Well, of all the ungrateful-' I began, but my guardian put his hand to my arm.

*You did well,' he said. *Very well... for a mere girl.'

19.

The Uses of Gutta-percha Sidney Grice was in his study when I found him the next morning, bent low over a steaming copper pan balanced on a tripod over a spirit lamp.

*March.' He looked up. *Do you know what this is?' He held up a brown stick about the size of my forefinger.

*Gutta-percha,' I said.

*One of the wonders of the modern age.' My guardian nodded. *Do you know, this substance can be used to make jewellery or furniture and has even been wrapped round the underwater cable which connects us with the lost colonies of America a though why we should wish to communicate with them is a mystery even I could not solve.'

*My father used it sometimes to fill holes in soldiers' teeth,' I told him.

*Then you will know that it softens when heated in boiling water.' He dipped one end into the pan, swirled it around for a minute or so, lifted it out, prodded it and said, *That should be soft enough.' My guardian pulled his left eyelids apart and pushed the stick between them and winced. *A little warm perhaps.' He pulled it out and inspected it. *Not too bad. A small air blow but I am sure they can fill that.'

*It will be deformed,' I said.

*What?'

*It will still be soft and will have distorted on removal,' I explained.

Sidney Grice huffed.

*Nonsense.' He wrapped the gutta-percha in a roll of cotton wool. *I know exactly what I am doing.'

*But you are always having problems with the fit of your false eyes.'

*That is poor workmanship.' He blew the flame out and put a gla.s.s top over the wick. *Anyway, I have other things to do.'

*So do I.'

Neither of us asked or said what.

Today was Tuesday the fifth of July.

One thousand and ninety-six days ago in another country in another continent, in what seemed like another world, you came to me. Tall and very smart in your second lieutenant's uniform. You were unusually quiet and serious, even a little nervous. Was something wrong?

*Oh, I am hopeless at this,' you said and I knew immediately.

You went down on one knee and your sword dipped into the white dust and there in the square in full view of the pa.s.sers-by you brought out a little red cotton pouch.

*I don't even know which finger.'

*The third on my left hand,' I said.

*Is that a yes then?'

I looked into your eyes, the bluest I have ever seen, and they looked back at me with such love that I could not even speak. I nodded.

*I had to guess the size.'

Your hand trembled as it took mine.

*It fits perfectly.'

*Do you like it?'