Alex Grecian - The Yard

“It’s not a silly name at all.”

“I beg your pardon. Hasenpfeffer is a very silly name indeed.”

“But I didn’t say Hasenpfeffer. My name is Bradley.”

“I’m certain you said Hasenpfeffer.”

“And I’m certain I didn’t!”

“Well, perhaps you didn’t hear yourself say Hasenpfeffer. Honestly, I don’t see how you can hear anything at all when you’re walking around with that thing in your ear.”

“What thing in my ear?” The boy looked alarmed.

“You mean you didn’t put it there?”

Bradley shook his head.

“Then let’s see if we can’t fish it out.”

Blacker reached behind the boy’s ear and, with a flourish, drew forth a penny. Bradley gasped.

“Your ear is hardly the best place to keep money,” Blacker said. “Perhaps you should find a better place for it.”

Bradley took the penny and stared at it. Then he looked up at Blacker and grinned. He turned and held the coin out for his mother to see.

“Look, Mother, it’s a magic penny.”

“That’s wonderful.” She smiled at Blacker. “Bradley,” she said, “why don’t you go and show your new penny to Elizabeth.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And have her put the kettle on for tea, would you? I’m in the mood.”

Bradley ran out of the room with the penny cupped in his hands as if afraid it would vanish as easily as it had appeared.

“Thank you for that,” Penelope said. “I can’t remember the last time anything made him happy.”

“My pleasure,” Blacker said. “I rather like making people happy.”

Penelope smiled at him, and Blacker decided that making her smile again might be the most worthwhile task he could take up.

“That’s a nice thought,” Penelope said. “Bradley’s had a rough time of it lately. But I don’t think being a child is ever particularly easy.”

“It’s not particularly easy being an adult, either.”

“No.”

There was an awkward silence, but the tension in the room had dissipated and Blacker decided he didn’t want to leave after all.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to do this, but I have to ask you some official questions.”

“Of course.”

“The person or persons who … well, who murdered Dr Shaw have, I believe, killed several others. I think they plan to continue killing unless they’re stopped.”

“You ain’t far wrong.”

Blacker and Penelope both turned at the sound of the woman’s voice.

Two women emerged from the entrance to a short hall at the back of the parlor. One was short and the other tall, with a long scar running down her face. They both wore too much makeup. The tall one had a pistol in her hand and it was pointed at Blacker.

“But you’re wrong about stoppin’ us,” the short one said.

“He ain’t the one,” the scarred one said.

“True. He ain’t the one. But he’ll do. Look at that silly ginger mustache.”

Up you go,” Day said.

He let go and the little boy, Fenn, was pulled upward through the shaft of light. The twisted linen rope held tight under the boy’s arms. Day stepped back and he and Hammersmith watched the boy disappear up into the tailor’s shop above as Henry Mayhew, the dancing man, hauled on his end of the rope.

“I’m a bit nervous,” Hammersmith said. “Can this fellow handle the weight of a full-grown man?”

“He’s unnaturally strong,” Day said. “I believe he’s perfectly able. Handy bloke to have around, to tell the truth, but he badly needs a hot bath.”

Hammersmith moved away into the darkness of the cave and Day followed him. He felt about until he encountered what seemed to be a leg. He grabbed it and pulled. Hammersmith had the other leg and together they dragged the unconscious man across the dirt floor until they had him under the trapdoor above. A minute later, an end of the makeshift linen rope was tossed back down and they tied it under the injured man’s arms.

“Well, if your dancing man can’t handle the weight, better he should drop this load than either of us,” Hammersmith said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing this one take a bit more punishment after what he put that boy through.”

“Who is he?”

“I think he’s the tailor’s coachman. Regardless, he’s good with a knife.”

Day glanced at Hammersmith’s wounded arm. “Kingsley’s up there, too.”

“You brought nearly everyone.”

“We do seem to have converged. Good thing. Although we’ve misplaced Mr Blacker.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea where he went. I fell asleep and he was gone when I woke up.”

“He’ll turn up or I’ll find him when I find the tailor. Time’s of the essence, so I’m afraid I need to leave you here. The doctor’ll wrap you up and I’ll have a carriage take you to hospital.”

The coachman’s inert body jerked, then rose smoothly up and away. The two men watched the soles of his shoes until they were reeled through the bottom of the cabinet.

“This arm isn’t going to kill me,” Hammersmith said. “I’m not done until we find the man who put this all in motion.”

“Rest assured, I won’t fail to catch him.”

“I have no doubt of that. But it’s a bit personal for me now. If you don’t mind, I’ll stick it out.”

The end of the rope hit the ground in front of them again. Day picked it up and pulled it around Hammersmith’s waist.

“First, Kingsley takes a look at that arm,” Day said. “If he says it’s all right, then I’ll be glad of your company.”

Hammersmith nodded. He rose into the air and disappeared from view the same way the other two had gone. Day looked around him at the empty black cave and shook his head. It was amazing what they’d all gone through in the past three days.

He stepped back as the end of the rope descended once more.

Kingsley talked to Day while he wrapped Hammersmith’s arm.

“The marks on the shears match the marks on the sewing machine,” he said. “I’m confident that the tailor’s your man.”

“But how to find him?” Day said. “He’s not here, we don’t know where he lives, and he knows now that we’re on to him. We have no idea where he’s gone to ground.”

“I know where he lives.”

The three men turned at the sound of Fenn’s voice. The boy was standing at the door of the shop, hiding behind one of Henry Mayhew’s massive legs.

“Will you write his address for us?” Day said.

“I don’t know his address,” Fenn said. “But I can show you where he lives.”

“We wouldn’t ask that of you,” Hammersmith said.

Day looked at him, eyes wide, but Hammersmith shook his head.

“You never have to see that man again,” he said.

“I don’t have to see him to show you his house,” Fenn said. “I don’t mind. Really. Just don’t let him take me again.”

“There is no chance of that,” Day said. “If you’re sure you’re up for it, we’ll go for a carriage ride.”

“What should we do with him?” Kingsley pointed at the unconscious coachman.

“We’ll tie him up and send someone round for him,” Day said. “We don’t want him near the boy if he wakes.”

“Fenn stays in the carriage at all times,” Hammersmith said.

“We’ll do even better than that. Once he points the place out, you and I go after Cinderhouse and Dr Kingsley takes the boy away. We won’t put him in danger for even a moment.”

“I’ll take him to my laboratory,” Kingsley said. “It will be safe there, and my daughter would be delighted to entertain him until you can catch this fellow and take the boy home.”

Hammersmith looked at Fenn. The boy nodded and Hammersmith smiled at him.