Alan Petrillo - Asylum Lane

“I am concerned that Fletcher might feel that enough time has passed for him to make a move on us.”

Wills shook his head slowly. “You may be right, sir. The buggar has had enough time to think about the situation, sitting in there all day with that bloody shotgun.”

“Aye, that is exactly what worries me, sergeant. The 12 bore. But we have to do something to get the man out of that room. We can’t simply wait for him to come out shooting.”

“Are you thinking of going in after him?”

“That I am, but I can’t order unarmed constables to go after an armed man.”

“But we have four constables with revolvers, and I have a Webley too. That’s five revolvers to one shotgun.”

“Are you saying you think it is a wise move to break in on the man and take him?”

“I cannot tell you it’s wise, sir. I can only say the men are getting tired and restless. We should end this soon.”

Round Freddy leaned back against the wall of the house and pulled a hand across his mouth. “The men are for taking him, then?”

“Aye, sir. Ready and raring to go.”

“Right, then. Tell me what you think of this. You take the two armed constables at the rear and create a diversion. Make a racket as if you are trying to force the door. When I hear you begin the diversion, I shall give Fletcher enough time to react to you, and then break down the front door with my two armed constables and take the man.”

Wills nodded and looked Round Freddy in the eye. “Aye, sir. It’s the best we have right now.”

Round Freddy pushed away from the wall and strode toward the door to Snow’s house. “Let’s do it, then.”

As Wills disappeared down the alley on his way to the rear of the house, Round Freddy pulled the two armed constables aside and told them of the plan. Sergeant Wills was right, he thought. They’re raring to go.

The three of them assembled in the front room, backed up by three other constables crowding around the main door. Round Freddy held his finger to his lips and then turned to speak to the door.

“Mr. Fletcher. May I speak with you for a moment?”

Round Freddy could hear the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor as Fletcher shifted his position.

“What do ye want now?”

“I should like to discuss the possibility of releasing you from your forced confinement again.”

As Round Freddy finished speaking, he heard the sound of muffled pounding coming from the room beyond, obviously the handiwork of Sergeant Wills and his men.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Fletcher said at the sound of someone moving toward the back of the room.

That was all Round Freddy needed to hear. He motioned to the constables at the main doorway and two of them came running into the room and crashed against the bolted door, pulling its hinges from the doorframe and splintering the wood. The door and the two constables fell to the floor in the room. As they did, the two armed constables stepped into the room on either side of the door, their pistols raised. Round Freddy stepped into the center of the doorway.

“Mr. Fletcher, you are under arrest. Please lay the shotgun on the floor.”

Round Freddy saw Fletcher turn and begin to swing the long barrels of the 12 bore up and toward him. As the barrels came up and he saw the two huge openings facing him, looking like twin railway tunnel openings, he immediately thought his plan had a major flaw in it. Just as he screwed up his eyes and face, preparatory to being gunned down, he heard two shots, but felt no impact. He popped his eyes open and was startled to see Fletcher crumpling to the floor. The shotgun fell from his hands and he clutched his chest.

As Fletcher fell, Round Freddy saw, through the blue, sweet-cordite smell of the gunpowder smoke, the figure of Sergeant Wills standing in the back doorway, feet planted wide apart, the Webley held at shoulder level, and a curl of smoke coming from its barrel.

Round Freddy closed his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief as one of the two constables at his side moved forward and picked up the shogun. As Round Freddy bent over Fletcher, he could see the man was mortally wounded, as blood was pumping between his fingers clasped on his chest. Fletcher appeared like he was trying to say something and Round Freddy leaned down and put his ear close to Fletcher’s lips.

“The reverend is what did it,” he heard Fletcher say, before the man exhaled sharply and died.

Jane watched constable Phillips scowl as she passed him on her way into the walled garden. She had heard the sergeant dressing the constable down for allowing her to slip off Ashfield House’s grounds. Likely he wouldn’t forget the tongue lashing he received. She felt embarrassed that her actions caused the constable trouble, but was unsure how to address the issue. Stopping near the fountain tinkling softly in the center of the garden, she looked over her shoulder back at the house. The constable stood in a rigid pose alongside the doorway, looking away from her.

Deciding quickly, she moved back toward the house and drew up beside the constable.

“I think I owe you an explanation, constable.”

The policeman turned toward her, but said nothing. His eyes didn’t betray his feelings.

“I must apologize for my behavior in leaving the grounds. I know it was against the rules, but I could not help myself. I have been like a caged bird for so long. I only wanted to feel freedom again.”

The constable’s face softened. “The rules, they were put in place for your protection. Surely you must know that.”

Jane lowered her gaze. “I did know it, and I know it now. I simply did not realize what a dangerous position I put myself in, and in doing so, jeopardized you in your duties.” She hesitated. “I am truly sorry. It will not happen again.”

The constable relaxed his position and flicked his hand as if brushing away a fly. “It is done now and we cannot undo it. No sense in dwelling on it.”

“Then you are not in trouble with your sergeant?”

Phillips smiled. “No more than I am usually.”

Jane touched his arm. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding.”

Phillips shook his head and laughed lightly. “Understanding females is not something I know about. But I keep trying.”

Jane turned to move back toward the garden. But he is learning, she thought, smiling.

Round Freddy looked up from the paper he was studying to see Lund standing in his office doorway. He motioned the banker to a seat in front of the desk.

“Sergeant Hume, I have an important issue to discuss with you.”

Round Freddy leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “This sounds as if it will be one of those tales with a sad ending.”

Lund winced and the detective knew he was right. “Please tell me the problem.”

“It is that damnable scoundrel, the Dealer,” Lund began. “Not only does he have my money, but now he has doubled the amount of the commission he seeks to extort from me.” Lund sat with a straight back and posed with a hand on his hip.

Round Freddy could see nothing but the humor in the situation. He was about to tell off the banker, but changed his mind when he thought of how pitiful the man was in his situation.

“Mr. Lund, I thought we had discussed how to handle the Dealer. Is there some reason why you chose to meet with him again?”

Lund nodded, but did not answer.

“And that reason would be what?”

“I wanted him to reduce the commission.”

Round Freddy threw his head back and laughed, rubbing his eyes with both hands. “Oh, the irony of the situation. You apparently do not share my view of it. Here you are, an embezzler who has been caught and is working to mitigate his guilt by helping us catch an even bigger criminal. But your greed is such that you can’t stomach the thought of being extorted for the commission money on your ill-gotten gains, so you attempt to lower the commission. The end result is that the other criminal doubles his take from you.” Round Freddy smiled at Lund. “You must see the irony of it.”