The Mangle Street Murders Part 20

*Run up the flag, March. I know a couple of characters in Limehouse who owe me a favour. They will set him swimming in the river with his church bell chained to his scrawny neck.'

The front doorbell rang.

*You are lucky I did not hear any of that,' the inspector said.

Molly returned, crossing her legs unsteadily.

*Begging your pardon, sir, but there's a small to middling-sized mob in the street outside. They want to see you about William Ashby.'

*Tell them to clear off,' Sidney Grice said and went to the window to peer out. *And bring more tea.'

*They are not the only ones to have concerns about the safety of the conviction,' Inspector Pound said. *I was summoned to the chief constable's office this morning. He had had a meeting with the Home Secretary and in view of this new evidence...'

*Evidence?' My guardian swept back his hair. *The ramblings of an inebriate as mouthed by a prejudiced idolater?'

*In view of this new allegation,' the inspector continued, *Sir William has ruled that the execution be delayed until Sir Randolph has been interviewed.'

*Then go ahead and interview him.' Sidney Grice strode back to the window.

The crowd was chanting now, *Ashby is innocent', over and over again.

*Where are the police when you need them?' my guardian asked.

*Standing by your fireplace,' I said.

*I mean uniformed men with truncheons on horseback to beat a bit of sense into their lice-laden skulls.'

*I shall go and speak to them presently,' the inspector said. *But the problem is, Mr Grice, we cannot find Sir Randolph.'

*Down an alley with his throat cut, I hope,' Sidney Grice said.

At that moment there was a crash and a spray of shattered gla.s.s, and a brick crashed into the screen at my guardian's side. He put his forearm up to his face.

*Are you all right?' I asked and Sidney Grice turned to me. There was blood on his forehead.

*Sticks and stones may break my bones, Miss Middleton,' he said, *but only words can hurt me. Do not trouble yourself, Inspector. The cowards are dispersing already.'

There was another crash and a stone struck him on the shoulder. I hurried to him and saw a youth running up the road. He turned and threw another stone, but it fell short and he ran away.

My guardian rubbed his shoulder a it was the one which always troubled him a and pointed out of the window.

*Those are your criminals, Inspector Pound,' he said. *I suggest you start chasing them instead of hounding me.'

The inspector reddened. *Would you like me to station a man outside your house, Mr Grice?'

Sidney Grice shook his head. *No, Inspector. I would like you to put this matter to rest and you can start by finding Sir Randolph Cosmo Napier. I will give you two days.'

*Or what?' Inspector Pound was very pale.

Sidney Grice flapped his hand above his head.

*Two days,' he said, and turned back to the window.

26.

Smoke *There is a strong aroma of cigarette smoke in here,' my guardian said as we went into the dining room. *I hope Molly has not been indulging in that filthy habit. She will be looking for another position without a reference if she has.'

He had his patch on, as he often did in the evenings, to give his eye muscles a rest.

*It is probably my fault,' I said. *I had tea in a very smoky cafe.'

He sniffed again. *Is that gin I can smell?'

*Very likely,' I said. *A man spilled something over me from a jug as I walked past him. I was not aware that it was gin, though.'

The dining room was chilly. It had a fireplace but it was never made up. That would have been an unwarranted extravagance.

*I would have sworn it was on your breath,' he said as we went to our chairs.

*I trust you would not have sworn in my presence,' I said.

*I only meant-'

*And I am not sure that you should be smelling my breath.' Molly brought in our dinner. *It hardly seems decent.'

Molly suppressed a smile as she left. We had soft-boiled eggs and cold potatoes.

*How has your day been?' I asked.

Sidney Grice blew down the salt cellar.

*Most satisfactory.'

*In what way?'

He banged the cellar on the table. *You will not have forgotten that I gave Pound two days to find Sir Randolph, and he has failed to come up with a single lead.' He salted his food. *So I had a chat with the Home Secretary this afternoon.'

*Indeed?'

I poured myself a tumbler of water.

*Indeed.' Sidney Grice spread his napkin over his lap. *I reminded him that Ashby had a fair trial, and Brewster's rantings from the pulpit were no more than uncorroborated hearsay and cannot const.i.tute evidence. I pointed out that public order is at stake and the matter needs to be resolved as soon as possible. Sir William agreed and the execution is to be scheduled for the day after tomorrow. He owes me a favour, anyway.'

Sidney Grice tapped one of his eggs with a teaspoon.

*You regard the hanging of William Ashby as a personal favour?'

*Of course.' My guardian scooped his eggs out on to his plate. *The whole thing has become an embarra.s.sment.'

*So he is to die to spare your blushes?'

Sidney Grice nodded happily. *I only wish I could witness the event myself.'

*But why?'

*If any man put William Ashby on the scaffold it is I.' He did his horrid smile. *And I like to see my work completed.'

*You would enjoy it?'

*Why not?' He mashed his egg into his potato, shook some pepper on top and then some more salt, sowing it up and down his plate.

*But a man is to be killed.'

*You give him more consideration than he gave his wife, not to mention the suffering of her mother.'

*But are you sure?'

*The man is a brutal murderer, March. Twelve men good and true were sure of it too.'

My eggs had congealed into yellow strings around the pale potatoes. Sidney Grice tucked into his dinner and opened a book.

*You should read this.' He raised it briefly. *It is quite fascinating. Apparently an American dentist called Southwick has devised a method of executing criminals by electrifying them. That sounds rather fun.'

I pushed my plate to one side.

*You are not hungry?'

*I feel sick.'

*You should try fletcherizing your food. Take tiny portions and chew each one thirty times before swallowing. It will improve your digestion no end and perhaps even your temperament a little.'

He wiped his mouth.

*It is not this muck masquerading as food that offends me,' I said. *It is the monster masquerading as a human being that fills me with disgust.'

Sidney Grice put his napkin down and said almost tenderly, *I quite understand but try not to upset yourself, March. The world shall be rid of him in thirty-six hours.'

I picked up my carafe and hurled it. I am a good shot as a rule but I did not take careful aim. My guardian glanced back at the shattered gla.s.s on the floor and the water on the wallpaper.

*You would have done better with the tumbler,' he said and returned to his book.

I once saw a man hang in Bombay. My father took me. I had heard that the man was an Indian mutineer and I said that he deserved to die. He had taken an oath to the Queen and betrayed her.

The man was brought into the square manacled and in leg chains, and dressed only in a loincloth. He shuffled to try to keep up with his escort. He was such a little man and he was crying. At the foot of the scaffold he stopped and fell to his knees. The guards put their arms under his and carried him up. He was wailing by then. They deposited him on the hatch and put a noose round his neck.

*Did he deserve this?' my father asked.

*How many people did he kill?'

*If it were ten did he deserve this?'

*Yes.'

I looked away but my father told me to watch, and the executioner pulled a lever and the man fell and his body jolted as the rope tightened. And then the struggles began. His hands went to his throat but the rope dug deep and he could not put his fingers under it. His legs were kicking. He swung from side to side.

*Did he deserve this?' my father asked but I could not answer.

The man was running now, his legs pumping in the air and some of the bystanders started to laugh. He soiled himself and the laughter grew. Some mocked him.

*No,' I said.

The hanged man tired. He slowed and slumped. His hands fell in front of him and his legs hung loosely. His chest quivered and he became limp.

*He spat at an officer,' my father said. *If his comrades are to be believed, he was chewing betel leaves and just happened to spit as his captain came round the corner. The men laughed and the officer felt humiliated so he pressed charges. It was the word of an English captain against that of a native private judged by English officers. I am sorry to have put you through this but you have learnt the most important thing you will ever learn. No one has the right to say another man must die. Incarcerate him if you must, but it is for G.o.d to decide his allotted span.'

I picked up my tumbler and threw that too.

27.

The Vigil Father Brewster came to greet me, clothed in long white robes with a green stole, the moment I entered the church.

*I must tell you that I am not a Roman Catholic,' I said and he smiled. *You are welcome all the more for that. Take a seat wherever you like and make yourself as comfortable as you can. We are in for a long night, if you choose to spend it with us.'

There were probably two hundred people seated in the pews already, most of them poorly dressed, and the majority were women, several with children.