“Uh … I don’t see how he could refuse, sir.”
Again, nothing for a moment. Then: “That is not the question, lad. It seems to me that whoever it was shot me is not absolutely certain if I am alive or dead. I think it of the utmost importance that I present myself in the Bow Street Court as usual today to prove that I am alive.”
“But might he not try again?”
“To shoot me? Oh, there is a chance, I suppose. But I think that highly unlikely. There is but the one street exit, and there will be armed men about.”
“Mr. Fuller?”
“Mr. Marsden, too. I’ll see to it he wears a brace of pistols — perhaps you, too, eh? Above all, Jeremy, it is important to demonstrate that wounding a magistrate will in no wise stop or even interrupt the dispensation of justice at Bow Street.”
“As you will then, Sir John.”
“And I will that there be no letter to Mr. Saunders Welch. Now what was the other matter you wished to talk about?”
“About last night’s investigation,” said I.
“Well, what about it?”
“You wished to talk to him who reported the robbery and murder to Mr. Baker.”
“Yes, and I was more than a little disappointed that our Constable Patley could not present him to us for interrogation. In fact, he could not even supply the fellow’s name.”
“He must have gotten it from the butler there at the Lilley residence then, for he provided it in the written report he left with Mr. Marsden.”
“Indeed? And what was the name?”
“Waters — or possibly Walters, something like that. It was a little difficult making it out.”
“This fellow, Patley, writes a poor hand I assume?”
“You might say so, yes sir, but would you like me to interrogate Waters, or Walters, or whatever his name be?”
Sir John gave that some thought. “I would,” said he. “Indeed I would. To be truthful, Jeremy, if I am to sit the court each day, as I intend to do, I’m quite sure it will take all the energy that I can muster. If we are to continue the investigation — as we must — then I fear the conduct of it falls upon you. I leave it in your hands. You may come to me for advice — consultation, if you will. In fact, I rather hope you will, but you will have to do the actual labor of interrogation, fact-gathering, and such.”
I knew not quite what to say, so overcome was I by the evidence of trust shown in this generous act — yet I felt that I must say something. “I shall try my utmost to …” I fumbled, “to justify the faith you put in me.”
“Well, that much is understood.”
“Thank you, Sir John.”
“See if you can still thank me when you’ve done with it. But off with you, Jeremy. Go down to the Lilley residence and put the fear of God into them. Talk to whomever you must need talk to. Don’t be shy. Be rude, if you must, but don’t be shy.”
To my surprise, my knock at the door of the Lilley residence was answered not by the butler, Mr. Collier, but rather by the porter, Mr. Burley, who had told us a good deal about the murdered man. Far more surprising was the attitude he showed toward me. I was greeted by a frown. When I attempted to speak, he shook his head severely and made to shut the door in my face. That, I would not allow.
“Take your foot out of the door,” said he.
“You remember me, don’t you?”
“I do. You was here last night with the blind magistrate from Bow Street who was asking all the questions.”
“Right you are,” said I. “And as you may or may not know, that blind magistrate from Bow Street was shot, just down the street from here. He has appointed me to continue the investigation in his stead. I’ve been granted full powers.”
“You’re talking pretty powerful for one so young. How old are you?”
“That matters not one jot,” I declared quite snappishly. “Whatever he had the power to do, I now can do.” (Perhaps I was a bit carried away by my new authority.) “I can bring a swarm of constables here this very night to force answers for my questions. How would you like that?”
“A sight more than I would having a swarm of soldiers underfoot.”
That I did not understand. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and grudgingly opened the door just wide enough for me to slip through. “Come into the hall here,” said he. “I’ll explain the situation to you.”
As I stepped inside, he closed the door carefully and noiselessly behind me. Then did he speak in a tone hardly louder than a whisper.
“When Lord Lilley come home last night, he went room to room counting his losses. You can tell when he gets angriest ‘cause that’s when he gets quietest. And when he’d finished his tour of the house, he and the Lady went right upstairs. He’s a very cold man, he is.
“Today, early this morning, he gathers us all together and announces who all gets sacked and who stays.”
“But Sir John left a request that none of the staff be discharged until he — ”
“I know. I heard about that. But there’s Lord Lilley’s answer to your chief. As for the rest of us — the ones he’s not throwing out in the cold — he told us under no circumstances was we to talk to Sir John or his constables, or help in the investigation. So you can see I’m taking a great chance here just talking to you.”
“But that’s nonsense. How are we to — ”
“True, true, I know. The master’s gone off to the Tower to demand soldiers to patrol St. James Street. He says Bow Street can’t deal with the crime no more.”
“But … but that’s not true. I mean, Sir John — that is … Is there any chance that Lord Lilley will have his way?”
“I don’t know, p’rhaps. He’s a duke, ain’t he?”
“But I have special need to talk to one of the household staff who was evidently absent during our visit last evening — a William Waters.”
The porter looked at me blankly. “There’s no one of such a name here,” said he.
“Well, then, perhaps it would be William Walters.”
“No, sorry.”
“William Walker?”
He shook his head in the negative rather solemnly.
“Is there no one by a name even remotely like it?”
“No, lad, there’s no William at all. And as for family names with a ‘W,’ we’ve got only a Wiggins, but first name’s Elizabeth. She’s the cook.”
I stood there quite dumbfounded, rendered mute by my frustration. It seemed to me that I should have this confirmed by the butler. He was, after all, the chief of the household staff. “Could I speak with Mr. Collier?”
“No, ‘fraid not. He’s been sacked. That’s why I’m tending the door. I s’pose I will be till they hire a proper butler.”
“AndPinkham?”
“Sacked.”
“Anyone else?”
“Piper and Albertson — kitchen slaveys.”
“What was their offense? I mean, the last two.”
“They complained about the sacking of the first two — and Lord Lilley overheard. But now you must go, young man, for I’ve no wish to follow them out into the street.”
“I understand. And I have but one more question; it is this: Who was it carried the news of the robbery to Bow Street?”
Burley thought a moment upon it. “I’m not rightly sure anyone did,” said he. “But you’d have to ask Mr. Collier about that to be sure of it.”
I stood, arms folded, a scowl upon my face and a pistol at either side. I was placed prominently before the public entry to the Bow Street Court, inside the courtroom itself. The usual crowd of spectators paid little heed to me and to the similarly well-armed Mr. Fuller at the other door; Sir John and Mr. Marsden paid none at all. The business of the court was carried on as usual.
I had been armed and assigned my place by Mr. Marsden upon my return to Bow Street from the Lilley residence. He, the court clerk, sat beside the magistrate, a large, old cavalry pistol prominently displayed on the table before him. This show of arms was, of course, meant to discourage any further attempt upon Sir John’s life. I, for one, doubted there would be any such attack in a place so public. There was, after all, not a single black face among the many in the courtroom, and I knew quite well that his assailant of the night before had been an African.