The Regency Detective (11 page)

‘That is exactly the type of organisation that we require in Bath,’ said Evans’ excitedly. ‘There are far too many criminals in this city, on both sides of the law. Present company excluded, of course, Mr Fitzpatrick. Why only two days ago, a local magistrate blatantly allowed a known criminal to walk from his court.’

‘Well, Mr Evans, you will be pleased to know that at least one criminal is not at liberty this morning,’ said Swann, who briefly relayed the details surrounding Tyler’s capture and arrest the previous night.

‘Tyler. Why, that is the very same felon we speak of,’ exclaimed Evans. ‘This is indeed heartening news, Mr Swann, is it not so, Mr Fitzpatrick?’

Swann noticed Fitzpatrick looked uncomfortable during the conversation, but for the present decided not to bring attention to it. Fitzpatrick, however, now nodded in response to Evans’ question.

‘On that good news then, I will leave you gentlemen to discuss your business. But I will see you at the meeting tonight, Mr Fitzpatrick?’

‘I will do my very best to attend, Mr Evans, you have my word.’

Evans bowed respectfully and left. Fitzpatrick turned to Swann.

‘I do not know what I can do,’ he said, somewhat dejectedly. ‘The situation in the city becomes worse every year, but I have no answer. Even if I were to attend the meeting this evening, I do not believe it would make any difference, whatever men like Evans may believe. But enough of my problems, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company at my office this morning, Swann?’

Swann handed the other man the note.

‘How did you come by this?’ asked Fitzpatrick.

‘It was delivered last evening, by a passing carriage, attached to a rock hurled through our window. An unusual method of delivery, you will agree.’

‘Was Mary present at the time?’ asked Fitzpatrick, concerned.

‘Yes,’ replied Swann. ‘She was a little shaken, but no one was hurt.’

‘Do you have any idea who might have done this?’ asked Fitzpatrick.

‘I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the matter. Although my instinct tells me it is connected with the man arrested last night, Tyler.’

‘If that is the case,’ replied Fitzpatrick, ‘then it may have been a man called Wicks, a most unpleasant sort.’

‘Wicks?’ said Swann.

‘He is responsible for much of the city’s crime, or at least is in charge of those that commit it. Tyler works for him.’

‘Well at least that member of his gang is off the streets for the time being,’ said Swann.

Fitzpatrick again remained silent.

‘Is there something wrong, Fitzpatrick? You seem struck mute at each mention of Tyler’s name. He still resides behind bars, does he not?’

‘I am afraid that is no longer true. Tyler was freed this morning.’

‘And on whose authority was this carried out?’

‘My magisterial colleague, Kirby; he recorded a verdict of mistaken identity in regard to the charge of pickpocketing. And Wicks provided an alibi.’

‘But it was you that he robbed, Fitzpatrick. Did you not tell Kirby, this?’

‘If I am to be honest, Swann, I could not be sure I saw the face of the man who robbed me. It happened so quickly. And I could not tell an untruth under oath.’

‘But why was I not called as a witness, or Mary?’

‘I don’t know. But I was only summoned at the last moment. I thought you had already given evidence.’

‘Does this happen a lot?’ asked Swann.

‘More often than I would desire, let us say.’

‘Is Kirby in Wicks’ pay?’

‘Again, that I do not know, but what will you do about this note?’

‘I think I would like to pay this Wicks a visit. Where does he reside?’

‘It is said he has interests in a public house called the Duke of York, down in the Avon Street district,’ replied Fitzpatrick, ‘and I believe he has at least one warehouse across the river. But I would not advise you going there, at least not alone. I can organise some men to go with you, if you desire it.’

‘Thank you, but I will go alone. I usually find it is more effective.’

‘As you wish,’ replied Fitzpatrick.

‘If you could provide me with directions as to how to find the public house though, I would be most grateful.’

‘I am about to leave for my morning constitutional and I pass nearby the area on the way, if you would care to join me,’ offered Fitzpatrick.

‘That would be most agreeable,’ replied Swann.

The route that Fitzpatrick normally undertook for his morning constitutional was a circular one, taking in several of the architectural landmarks of the upper town. As Fitzpatrick had mentioned to Swann, however, it later passed through the outskirts of the lower town, where the Avon Street district and Wicks’ headquarters were located. The two men left Fitzpatrick’s office and headed out of Queen Square at its north-east corner into Gay Street, so named for the man on whose land it was built. The rain had eased and the sun was shining, causing the wet pavements to glisten in the morning light.

‘The writer Tobias Smollett stayed along here several times,’ said Fitzpatrick, having assumed the role of tour guide.

‘Although possibly not with the highest regard towards it, I would suggest,’ answered Swann. ‘You have read his
Humphrey Clinker
I trust?’

‘It is scornful of the city, I agree, but I have to confess, much of it is wickedly accurate!’ smiled Fitzpatrick. ‘I often feel “the noise, tumult and hurry” of this municipality, to quote Smollett, but what I do take umbrage with him over is his comments about our wonderful buildings. I, for one, certainly do not consider they were merely “contrived without judgement or executed without solidity”.’

‘Perhaps if he had been more successful in the establishment of his medical practice in the city, he might have been less scornful in his writing,’ concluded Swann, as they reached the end of Gay Street and entered what was known as the King’s Circus. Fitzpatrick stopped to allow Swann to take in the full majesty of the spherical structure in front of them.

‘It was designed by the elder John Wood as a residential equivalent to the Coliseum in Rome,’ announced Fitzpatrick authoritatively, ‘but unfortunately he died not long after laying the foundation stone and so his son completed it.’

‘Vespasian’s amphitheatre turned outside in,’ added a smiling Swann, as he too quoted Smollett.

The two men stood for a moment, taking in the splendour of the vista, with its successive tiers of Roman Doric, Ionic and Corinthian half-columns adorning the facades of the thirty-three houses which comprised the King’s Circus. A roadway of cobbles radiated from the centre. The houses were grouped into three separate sections, each divided by an approach, but which was built in such a way that the observer of the whole had the effect of a continuous building.

‘Outstanding,’ said an impressed Swann. ‘I am only sorry not to have visited Bath to have had this pleasure before.’

‘It is strange,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘I see this view on most days and yet it is only when you are in the presence of someone witnessing it for the first time that you actually realise what good fortune one possesses through living in such an architecturally pleasing city.’

‘What a mind to design such beauty,’ replied Swann.

‘It is more than just beauty,’ said Fitzpatrick, with an excited look in his eyes. ‘You might find this incredible,’ he said, ‘but we are standing in the final part of a giant key.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Swann.

‘Well,’ replied Fitzpatrick, ‘and do not ask me why Wood decided to design it in this way, but seen from the air, Queen Square, Gay Street and the King’s Circus form the shape of a giant key.’

‘You know this to be true?’ replied Swann.

‘Yes. Although I did not believe it when first told about it, I have since seen it with my very own eyes.’

‘How did you come by this experience?’

‘I was afforded the opportunity of a flight in a balloon last year, not long after Garnerin had made his ascent here. We took off from the actual place as the Frenchman, Sydney Gardens, and once we had risen so far I was able to look down upon the city. It was then that I saw the shape of the key laid out. As I said, I do not know the significance of it, although it certainly was a sight to behold.’

Swann would like to have enlightened his erstwhile companion as to the real significance of the key’s design, but it would have to wait until a later time.

The section of houses in the King’s Circus to the left, having entered from Gay Street and where Fitzpatrick now guided Swann, had been the first segment to be built, beginning in 1754. And as they made their way round the broad pavement, ringed by tethering posts and mounting steps, the magistrate recalled the most notable person who had lived there. ‘William Pitt had this house built especially for him,’ said Fitzpatrick, as they passed the specific house.

‘I guess he would have witnessed the rest of the circus being erected around him, then,’ added Swann, after being told the great statesman had lived there between 1755 and 1765, the latter being the year of the Circus’ completion.

Fitzpatrick nodded and pointed out other notable houses. ‘Clive of India lived over there,’ he said, ‘and near there is where Gainsborough stayed.’ Fitzpatrick then pointed to a few doors down where, he informed Swann, Kirby had offices.

They turned left into Brock Street, named after the younger Wood’s brother-in-law, and headed west. The lined houses, in comparison to what Swann had just witnessed, seemed less decorative or splendid. The most elaborate features being above the doorways and porches of the houses on either side of the street.

‘The younger Wood deliberately understated the architecture in this street,’ remarked Fitzpatrick, seemingly having read Swann’s mind, ‘as he wanted his two creations either side of it to be heightened in their dramatic effect.’

‘Yes, I did think the architectural expression quite subdued,’ said Swann, as they continued along.

Just before they reached the end of Brock Street, Fitzpatrick stopped again.

‘We are about to view the Crescent,’ said Fitzpatrick, ‘and I want you to appreciate it in all its glory.’

If Queen Square and the King’s Circus had been the highest manifestation of the elder John Wood’s vision, then the Crescent, as it was originally named, was the equivalent of his son’s, with many observers believing it to be far greater an expression. It was seen as the summit of Palladian achievement in Bath and one of the most magnificent architectural sights in the whole of Europe. Begun in the year after the Circus had been finished, the thirty houses which comprised this uniformed frontage had taken eight years to build. It was now known as the Royal Crescent but had only acquired this additional ‘Royal’ moniker after a visit by Prince Frederick, the second son of King George III.

‘I am used to architectural wonders,’ said Swann, as he stood with the great sweep of Ionic columns, one of the dominant features of the Crescent, in front of him, ‘but this literally takes my breath away.’

From its inception it had become the address to have within the city of Bath and had attracted everyone from royalty to artisans since its completion almost thirty years before.

‘That is where Richard Sheridan eloped with Elizabeth Linley in 1772,’ said Fitzpatrick, recounting one of the most famous scandals of the past century, as they passed number eleven. ‘They went from here to France, I believe.’

Swann merely nodded, as his attention was being completely consumed by the architecture in front of him.

Once they began walking along the Crescent’s cobbled concourse, Fitzpatrick then expanded on the issues raised earlier in his office by Evans.

‘Despite the splendour and magnificence of the architecture, the reality is the city’s population has increased almost ten-fold during the last hundred years,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘As I am sure you are aware, Swann, with any fashionable society there are always the beggars, pickpockets, thieves and other assorted criminal elements after what they perceive as easy plunder.’

Swann nodded. He did know, only too well.

‘But you have law enforcement?’

‘We have night-watchmen – the Charleys – as you witnessed last evening, but they are often drunk and are bribed too easily. There are also the thief-takers, but again, not always to be trusted. Sadly, we have nothing comparable to the Bow Street Runners you undertake consulting work for in London.’

‘Yes. The more places that instigated runners,’ replied Swann, as they turned into Marlborough Buildings and down to the Upper Bristol Road, ‘the safer law-abiding people would be going about their business.’ On reaching the main road, they turned left and headed back towards the city centre.

‘That’s why we could do with a man of your calibre here,’ said Fitzpatrick.

Before Swann could answer, however, a group of street urchins suddenly raced along the pavement, loudly chanting a rhyme:

Hark, Hark! The dogs do bark.

The beggars are coming to town;

Some on nags, and some in rags,

And some in silken gown.

A cartload of ragged vagrants now trundled past the two men. Their faces black with dirt, their clothes threadbare and torn.

‘They are beggars,’ said Fitzpatrick to Swann. ‘They are transported here from Bristol during the day and then picked up again later.’

As Fitzpatrick finished speaking and if to illustrate his point, the cart stopped further along the road, near the bottom of Charlotte Street. Its occupants jumped out and within a few seconds had scattered towards the centre.

Ten minutes later, Swann and Fitzpatrick reached the end of Monmouth Street, where it intersected with Avon Street.

‘This is where I have to leave you, Swann,’ said Fitzpatrick. ‘Continue all the way down this street and at the end, turn left. I believe you will find the Duke of York public house is nearby. But are you sure you do not wish any of my men to accompany you?’

‘No, I will be fine, Fitzpatrick, but thank you again for your concern.’

The two men shook hands and started on their separate ways.

‘Swann!’ cried Fitzpatrick suddenly.