Death of a Fop (Bow Street Consultant series Book 1) (21 page)

“No, these will do fine” said Jane. “I have never seen the Political Register; it seems to be more a pamphlet than a newspaper.”

“Yerse, well, it avoid the tax that way” said Jackie, considering spitting and thinking better of it. “I don’t say ‘e’s WRONG ter criticise the government but ‘e’s a bit confrontational-like; and where’s that gwine ter get ‘im? Banned an’ in the coop if y’arst me and how’s that gwine ter help them as is those ‘e claims to be speakin’ up for, you tell me that?.”

“Perhaps he feels that nobody will listen if he is not confrontational” said Jane.

Jackie sniffed.

“That’s as maybe, Ma’am; but it’ll only put the backs up o’ the government and landowners and where does that get the common man? Looked at wiv more despite by them in power, wot’ll see us as nuffink but violent protesters account o’ Mr Cobbett’s big mouf, that’s what!”

“I can see that it is a tricky question to consider,” said Jane, “how outspoken to be in order to be heard whilst not causing too much enmity towards those one would champion.”

She gave Jackie a nod of dismissal; his political views might prove interesting but there was something she was looking for; and she perused each paper in turn.

None of them gave any more information than the Morning Post she took herself.

Mr Armitage found Jane examining the relevant passage that she had clipped out of each of the papers that carried it – which was not all – frowning.

“I may be being stupid” she said.

“Unlikely,” said Caleb, “tell me about it.”

Jane had an excellent and retentive memory; and relayed the conversation with Sir Richard including the tones and facial expressions.

“Sounds a dashed queer cove to me” said Caleb. “What’s all this stuff?”

“I asked Jackie to get me papers, all the ones he could, that were printed on Monday or Sunday” said Jane “Read these; you’ll see why.”

Caleb read through them and his eyebrow gradually elevated. He whistled.

“Very clever of you Jane-girl” he said.

“Unless anything was reported before” said Jane.

He shook his head.

“Bow Street don’t let out anythink – any
thing
– but the barest and baldest of facts; a robbery took place such-and-such, a body was found so-and-so, identified as so-and-so; no details just in case, see? Especially with robberies account o’ finding the baubles. ‘cept a list is circulated to jewellers and ‘opes the expensive ones at least is honest. I dunno if you were right to say he might come back; but then if he’s got somethink – something – to do wiv all this….. ‘course he could say he were Sir Richard Malodorous or whatever, but how do we know he is?”

“Marjoram” said Jane mildly. “We do not; how pleasant it would be if somebody would but make a complete list of the peerage to check such things! However if one might follow him when he calls again, the size and location of his lodging might be some indication as to the veracity of his claim. Bearing in mind his blatant lies I can but assume that he is one of the same stamp as that footman James Ripon; a butler perhaps who has learned to support the manner of a peer. Not that I have much idea how a ‘Sir’ or a ‘Lady’ might be in any wise different to any other of the gentry if indeed they are.”

“Well the odd few I’ve tangled with vary from bein’ gents through and through to bein’ arrogant and stiff rumped” said Caleb. “Which ain’t any guide nowise. Well I don’t say someone born in the purple ain’t necessarily not goin’ to be a wrong ‘un; look at Frank. Who might have been half flash half foolish but a fly cove who’s weak enough to need a quick way to the readies….. yes, he shall be followed. I don’t like to ask, but a bit of blunt to throw about would help.”

Jane unlocked the small chest in which she kept cash.

“Take what you need” she said “There’s a mix of coin in there.”

“I will write you a receipt for it” said Caleb.

“Very well; it will make you more comfortable and will mean I keep track” said Jane.

Caleb took a selection of coins, and counted them out to write a reckoning.

“I don’t know that I shall use all this but it is useful to have more than you need rather than less” he said.

“I have noticed this also with household accounts” said Jane demurely.

“And you keep them with such a neat and pretty hand,” said Caleb, “no man would feel he had to stand over a woman keeping such excellent accounts but he might decide to do so anyway just to breathe the scent of her hair and admire her neat and well shaped hand pursuing of its most efficient endeavours…….”

“Mr Armitage you are flirting again” said Jane in a tone of reproach that her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyed belied.

“Why Mrs Churchill! I’m afraid I am!” said Caleb not sounding in the least bit apologetic.

“And why I should accept it from you when I would not accept it from Sir Richard Marjoram I am at a loss to consider!” said Jane with an attempt at severity.

“Because I’m sincere about it and that havy-cavy cove is deucedly smoky and too false by half” said Caleb. “Besides you don’t want nothink – anything I mean – to do with him.”

“Implying of course that I am willing to flirt with you? You are a presumptuous man, Mr Armitage” said Jane.

“Not half as presumptuous as a fribble who thinks you’ll fall into the arms of someone you don’t know for the waving of a title at you,” said Caleb, “and has me wondering what his lay might be!”

“Indeed; it is puzzling,” said Jane, “and you have managed to turn the subject from my ringing a peal over you!”

“Adept at it, ain’t I?” said Caleb. “A skill I picked up in the army.”

“Mr Armitage you are a most complete hand” said Jane sternly. “And you have work to do in collecting your army of beggars to follow Marjoram!”

Caleb brought a filthy small boy to see Jane some hours later. The child had a lopsided face and a withered arm under which was jammed a rude crutch to compensate in some part for the atrophied and dragging leg.

“This yere is Simmy; he’s as sharp as the taste of Norfolk mustard,” said Caleb, “and he already knows something about our Sir Richard.”

“Strite up I do,” said Simmy, “see, when I heered that Mr Armitage was stayin’ ‘ere, wot finds jobs for me, I hopped up as fast as I could toddle, see, Lidy, bein’s as ‘ow nobody don’t take no notice of a kinchin-zad, wot Mr Armitage find dead useful right? So I’m hangin’ abaht, and this plum-voiced servant come aht an give me a half-bord wot she say is from the lidy – that’s you, right?”

“Kinchin-zad is a cripple child” explained Caleb.

“Indeed” murmured Jane, who had standing orders to Ella to give largesse to any deserving beggars she caught sight of, and feeling faintly ashamed that she had been too caught up in her own troubles to have noticed this pathetic scrap of humanity for herself. “Ella is my dresser; she is a kind woman.”

“Ar, she gimme a groat from herself,” said Simmy, “which I took most kindly; and she didn’t make no condition that I should make meself scarce neether. Wot some swell morts and their servants do see?”

“Get to the point Simmy” said Caleb, not unkindly.

“Yerse, well, I seen this swell cove come out and I fink t’meself, ‘Ullo Simmy, I seen him somewhere. And I knows where it is; ‘e goes ter cocking and dog fights where vere’s good pickin’s fer a beggar – better for a diver but I ain’t got the agility t’pick pockets. ‘E know a few rum coves too; but ‘e is a gent, account ‘e knows uvver gents wot are famous enough ter reckernise, though I don’t say that ‘e’s no bosom-bow o’ any on em. ‘E ain’t wot yer call the demi-monde but ‘e do know plenty wot are if you arsts me, though ‘e do go out o’ ‘is way ter make sure none o’ the swell coves ‘e goes arahnd wiv don’t notice. But maunders – that’s beggars in your tork, lidy – maunders see everyfink. And it pay ter know ‘oo yer might touch fer a few coppers and ‘oo might scrag yer; and reckon ‘ed be one as would scrag yer. ‘E ‘as bang up prancers though! I kin find out ‘oo is reelly is if it ain’t what ‘e says ‘e is” his eyes glittered.

“Well Simmy, if you would do that, I should be well pleased” said Jane “Go first to the kitchen however and Mrs Ketch will give you a square meal and will pack you up a veal pie and some bread and cheese to take on your investigations; but you are not to take risks! Do not ask questions of anyone who might, er, scrag you! And here is some payment for your information and some on account in case you need to grease a palm or two” she took two shillings from her reticule, looked at them, and felt around to find instead two sixpences and three groats. She looked up to see tears in the child’s eyes; and knelt beside him to put an arm around his filthy shoulders. “Why Simmy, what have I said to upset you?”

“Oh LIDY! Mr Armitage, ‘E says ter tike care, but even ‘E aint never told me direct not ter arst questions o’ dangerous coves!” said Simmy. “And yer gwine ter feed me AND pay me?”

“I ain’t never forbid that, because, little kinchin, I give you credit for not bein’ stupid enough to do so” said Caleb. “Strewth, the brat’s napping his bib in earnest!”

Simmy was quite clinging to Jane crying and she lifted his pathetically light body into her lap, cradling him to her. At first he stiffened then leaned into her bosom, every line of his body begging caresses.

“Oh Caleb, anyone would think nobody had ever even embraced him before!” she cried in distress, stroking his filthy hair.

Caleb shrugged.

“I don’t suppose they ever have, Jane-girl; as I understand it he was abandoned on the doorstep of an orphan asylum at birth, and was too crippled to be indentured either at the mills or as a climbing boy, and ran off when he was about five. I feed him from time to time and he does errands for me…. He’s such an independent little sprout, which I admire, I never quite liked to offer to adopt him though I’m fond of him; he’s brave and still as gay as a grig with all his troubles. I ruffle his hair; but ……I guess he ain’t never had a female what hasn’t made the sign of the evil eye; some believe that even lookin’ at him can make the same cripplin’ effects happen to an unborn child. I didn’t think you’d be superstitious like that.”

“Quite right; I am not. How ludicrous! Well you shall adopt him as soon as you may be publicly alive again; and in due course he shall have a stepmama” said Jane firmly. “Simmy, you shall have my handkerchief but you must promise to learn to use it properly. Would you like Mr Armitage to be your father?”

“Strite up, Mr Armitage?” gasped Simmy “Straight up, Simmy; but for now I’m pretending to be dead because I’m working against a very dangerous cove and this Sir Richard might be associated with him. So for now, you’re just a kinchin-zad and NO BOASTING because that could lead to you, me, and Mrs Jane here all being scragged, right?”

Simmy nodded. He understood; and Jane’s heart went out to a pathetic scrap of humanity not ten years old who understood too well about violent death. He blew his nose ecstatically on Jane’s delicate linen handkerchief and Caleb took him off for some food.

Jane reflected soberly that this business was bringing home to her how well off she had always been; and that the bonds of extreme poverty and physical deformity were more profound than those of being a shabby genteel person like a governess. Simmy was fairly repulsive to look at; but cleaned up and fed up a bit she had no doubts that she would get used to his odd appearance with the drooping right hand side to his face. If Caleb had been married before and had already had children, crippled or no, she would accept them as stepchildren; so it was untenable that she should not be a mother to one Caleb had considered adopting without realising that the independence was but armour against the world. Of course Caleb saw poverty and misery every day; had grown up with it. He could be fallible in reading people; and how typical that he should err on the side of not wanting to take the child’s self respect and independence!

“I meant to tell you about Simmy and see if you wouldn’t find him a spot to sleep at times” said Caleb. “A man is shy of adopting a lad when there’s no woman’s hand in the house and equally shy of asking the best woman in the world to see her way to giving any kind of affection to a child not even a blood relative of…. I am losing myself here; you know what I mean don’t you, Jane-girl?”

“If you have an affection for the child then you should look on him as your son; and it argues well that you will readily accept another man’s children as your own” said Jane. “How could any woman not warm to that poor child? He is a loathsome creature at the moment, but it is hardly his fault! Cleanliness and good food will do wonders; but my dear Mr Armitage, he must learn to speak in a way that will not leave Frances and baby picking up bad habits. To learn cant for the fun of it when they are old enough to use it only in play and not as everyday is one thing; but I will not have them use it as a matter of course.”

“No; and I will engage to teach Simmy the same” said Caleb. “Had you thought of a name for baby?”

Jane sighed.

“It would be politic to call a son ‘Jasper’ for his great uncle,” she said, “for he will be the old man’s heir. For a girl I thought perhaps Henrietta for Aunt Hetty. I felt I should try to appease Uncle Jasper; he will have found out that Frank made a will leaving the house to me, which will not please him that it does not automatically entail to Frank’s son should baby be one; nor does my blackmail of him to have the jointure in full please him any the better. When he dies the property of Enscombe will pass to baby if he is a boy or to the crown if not; so I am hoping that he should be a boy for why should the crown profit? I doubt I shall have any monies of the estate as I brought nothing to the marriage; but I shall lose no time in getting Mr Weston, as Frank’s father, to arrange guardianship of baby in that case. I cannot dare remarry until he is born; for that would probably forfeit his right to inherit. And to do so would be unfair to baby. I can only be grateful that Frank laughingly made out a will naming me as heir to any house in London he might own; which was before he bought this house. It is unfair that women should not be permitted to inherit property! And if uncle Jasper saw fit to contest that will, it would probably be decided in his favour, to be held in entail for any son of Frank or as dowry for his daughters to the benefit of any husband they might have!”