Death at Hungerford Stairs (14 page)

Cat's Hole widened out a little as they neared the corner where Tilly said she had turned to see the giant. When Scrap looked back at the narrowness of the tunnel-like passage through which they had come he could not help hoping that the giant would not be there. There was little room to escape. He began to think that he had been a fool. The superintendent had told him to be careful, and here he was, perhaps walking into a trap, and bringing two others with him. Gawd, he thought, wot an idiot, carried away by the idea of reward – oughter know better. An' Tilly – bringin' a girl into this.

They stopped. The light seemed to go dim and the shadows moved in, closer, seeming to surround them. Tilly saw only shapes moving. She stepped forward, suddenly terrified, her bonnet slipping off her head. The lamp flared, illuminating her whiteness. Then something horrible came at them, something huge and shapeless, something which stank and roared, and grew, monstrous in the shifting shadow and flame, and reached out for her.

The giant saw the ghost. He had seen it before. It had come round the corner. He had seen its white halo of a head, and then it had vanished, this thing which haunted him now. It had come again. The giant roared its terror and reached out to crush the life out of it. It had not seen that there were other figures.

Tilly screamed. Kip stepped back, slipping in the slime, the torch falling from his hand. Scrap heard the hiss of the flame as it touched the wet ground. He saw the shapeless thing reach out for Tilly. He seized the torch and flung it at the terrible figure, simultaneously grabbing Tilly. The thing was on fire. Flames suddenly licked at the rags it wore. They saw its great hands beating at the fire, heard its bellowing fury. Then they ran, Scrap dragging Tilly, Kip behind, all three stumbling and gasping in the thick darkness. Kip fell once but was up and away after them, not caring that his hands were bleeding, scraped by the rough stones. They did not look back.

They were out. But they did not stop. They ran on through the crowded street until they were in the alley behind the Moons' house. Only then did they stop running. Kip opened the back door which led into the yard where Mrs Moon stood clenching and unclenching her hands.

Dickens was in his library in the morning looking out at the winter garden; everything was still. The scene before him looked like a grey and white picture on which black lines had been etched. The blue slips were on his desk, ready for the scratch of the goose quill.
David Copperfield
, Chapter twenty-two,
Some Old Scenes and Some New People
. Steerforth and David were in Suffolk. Dickens was contemplating the ruin of Little Em'ly by Steerforth, Little Em'ly who must fall, he thought, there was no hope for her. He was preparing for it with the introduction of Martha Endell, the fallen girl. He was thinking, too, about Isabella Gordon, and that last sight of her going slowly and miserably away, wiping her face with her shawl.

He looked down at the blue slip on the desk and began to write:

Then Martha arose, and gathering her shawl, covering her face with it, and weeping aloud, went slowly to the door. She stopped a moment before going out, as if she would have uttered something or turned back; but no word passed her lips. Making the same low, dreary, wretched moaning in her shawl, she went away
.

Dickens knew what Martha's fate would be in London; he did not know what would be the fate of Isabella nor of Sesina, but he feared for them, and felt again the sadness of Isabella's departure; it was a failure, he thought, not necessarily his, but of society in general which offered nothing to girls as lively and intelligent as Isabella, and which corrupted them so deeply that some could not be saved.

He took up his pen again and wrote about Little Em'ly's distress and fear which would be explained later when her elopement with Steerforth was to be discovered. He heard a knock at the door. It was John with a note from Superintendent Jones, asking him if he would come down to Bow Street earlier than they had arranged for they were to go to Cricklewood in the afternoon.

Scrap was there. Dickens thought, perhaps, that he had news of Robin Hart. Both he and the superintendent looked grave.

‘Robin Hart?' asked Dickens. Scrap looked very miserable. ‘You have found out something?'

‘Scrap has been tilting at a giant,' said Sam. ‘Last night, a man was found murdered – strangled – in a lane near St Giles's. Scrap's friend, Tilly, said she had seen a giant, and off they went to find him – what did I say, Scrap, about being careful?'

‘I knows, sir, an' I'm sorry – I knows it woz stupid, but I woz thinkin' that we could find 'im and then tell yer, an' yer would catch 'im – an' there might be a reward fer Tilly an' Kip. Tilly thought they could get medicine fer their pa – 'e bein' sick. She thought 'e wouldn't be cruel to 'er no more if 'e could get better – leastways that woz what I thought she meant. Their pa 'as no legs.' Scrap's eyes were wet.

He is just a child, thought Dickens. We forget. He is so smart and streetwise. He has a child's imagination, believing in the giant, wanting Tilly, whoever she was, to get her reward, wanting to cure a man with no legs, setting off, in the dark to slay an ogre. He had rescued Poll. He must have thought a giant could be defeated.

The story was told of the dark, frightening walk down Cat's Hole, the giant suddenly materialising out of the shadows, the danger to Tilly who had run from the giant before, Scrap's hurling the torch at the beast, the flames, the howls and the terrified dash to safety.

‘I have sent Rogers, Feak and Stemp to search. The dead man is in the mortuary – it is clear he was strangled. He was just an ordinary labouring man – no money to steal. A fight got out of hand, perhaps. We don't know. But now we have two murderers to catch.'

‘I thought 'e might 'ave murdered Robin,' said Scrap.

‘No, that was different – Robin Hart was seen with a gentleman in the churchyard. In any case, he was stabbed as was the other boy, Jemmy, I mentioned to you.'

‘I seen 'im, yer see – that's why I thought – I seen 'im near Nat Boney's when I woz waitin' ter get Poll, an' 'e was draggin' somethink be'ind 'im – I think it could 'ave bin a body.'

‘When?' Sam's question was sharp.

‘I dunno – two, mebbe three nights ago. 'E woz 'uge, sir, 'e woz, honest ter gawd. 'E stank, too – smelt it last night.'

‘So, he could have killed twice. What did he do with the first body, I wonder?'

Dickens was remembering the night the weazened man had taken them to Georgie Taylor's, and the sense he had that they were being followed. He saw again the monstrous shadow on the wall. And he remembered how the shadow had vanished. Rogers had followed them. Perhaps he had seen.

‘What is it, Charles?' Sam had seen the expression on his face – his shudder.

‘When Zeb and I were taken to Georgie Taylor's, I felt something behind us – heard a shuffling, you know, and I saw a great shadow on the wall – it made me nervous, I can tell you. Frankenstein's monster, I thought. Madness, Scrap, to go after him.'

‘I knows, Mr Dickens.'

‘And, Sam, Rogers might have seen him – Rogers was following us in the alleys.'

‘Then, he is real enough – and dangerous. Scrap, you have to tell your friends to keep away.'

‘They will, sir, we woz all terrified. Will they get a reward, though – wot am I ter tell 'em?'

‘You didn't mention a sum?'

‘Nah – dint know wot yer give fer information.'

‘Well, the rate is usually ten shillings. Would that be acceptable?'

‘Oh, I reckon – could they git medicine with it?'

‘I think so,' said Dickens. ‘I could make it up to a pound.'

‘Cor, they'll be thrilled. Can I take it now?'

‘You can.' The superintendent went over to his cash box for the money which he gave to Dickens who fished a sovereign from his pocket.

‘It will have to be a sovereign, then. All right?'

Scrap beamed. He thought of Tilly's violet eyes.

‘Perhaps, Charles, you would go with Scrap. You could speak to the mother.'

‘Don't tell 'er wot we done, will yer? Saw 'er last night – got a lot on 'er plate, she 'as. We jest said we'd seen the body. Kip, 'e dint want 'er scared. Worries about Tilly, she does.'

‘Very well, Scrap. We will say the sovereign is a reward for the information you have given about the body – that they saw a man running away and described him to you.'

‘I am waiting for Rogers to come back. Will you return here, Charles, for our journey to Cricklewood?'

‘Yes, I will go back to the shop with Scrap and come here afterwards. Oh, there's something else I've remembered. When we met the man who took us to Georgie Taylor's, we had been waiting for Tommy Titfer whom we met the night of the fight. The old man mentioned a Fikey Chubb – dangerous man, he said. Tommy Titfer owed him money. I do not know the old man's name. Weazen, I called him, because he was.'

Sam smiled. ‘Oh, we know Fikey – a scoundrel. Has a shop in Dudley Street – a collector, he calls himself. It's a pawn shop, too – not official. He has many interests, you might say: money-lending, theft, drugs, prostitution, though I have not heard that he is interested in children. However, some of the prostitutes are what we would call children. Still, if he and Tommy Titfer were seen together at Rats' Castle, he may know something about our gigantic man. Rogers can bring him in.'

‘Someone must know him – a man of that size could hardly be missed.'

‘Mr Jones, I remember – Tilly said people woz talkin' abou' 'im – the giant. She said lots of people seen 'im.'

‘Then Rogers may find out where he has been seen. We need to get him off the streets before he kills again. Scrap, I still need you to ask about Robin Hart and the boy, Jemmy. I should have told you that they had been seen with a gentleman. But, please, don't go chasing after anyone. Just report back.'

‘I will, sir. I won't do nothink stupid.'

‘By the way, Sam, I dine with Oliver Wilde tonight – I may find out more about Theo Outfin.'

‘Good.'

Scrap took Dickens to the lane off Dulcimer Street where the Moons lived. On the way, Dickens asked about Tilly and Kip and the sick man.

‘I'll 'ave ter find Kip first,' said Scrap. ‘We can't go in – Mr Moon, 'e's queer. Allus shoutin' or cryin' an' Mrs Moon, she don't want nobody ter see – that's wot Kip says.'

‘What about Tilly? Why does Mrs Moon worry about her?'

‘Yer'll see.' Dickens had to be content with that gnomic response.

In the alley, they saw Kip coming towards them. He looked at the stranger curiously.

‘Brought yer reward,' said Scrap.

‘Nah, yer kiddin' me.'

‘Sed yer'd get one. Mr Dickens 'ere 'as come from the perlice. This is Kip, sir, wot woz with me last night.'

‘Scrap tells me that you do not wish your mother to know about the giant.'

Kip blushed. ‘Don't like lyin', sir, but Ma, she's got enough ter worry about – an', sir, we won't do it again. Scrap an' me, we woz daft goin' after 'im – dint think o' the danger. Tilly could 'ave bin killed – '

Kip looked horrified at the thought. Dickens felt sorry for him. He did not want to lie to the mother either, but he could see how frightened they had all been, and he felt he could trust Kip – and Scrap – not to go anywhere near the man again.

‘No, Kip, you must not think of doing anything so foolish again. I thought I saw him the other night and he terrified me. This is a matter for the police now.'

Dickens held out the sovereign which gleamed golden in the dingy passage. Kip looked at it. He had never seen one before.

‘Is it real, sir?'

‘It is – but before I give it to you, I must have your solemn promise not to go giant hunting again.'

‘Cross me 'eart, sir. We won't, honest, sir. But, I'll 'ave ter tell me ma about the reward.'

‘If you fetch her I will tell her that you gave a description of the wanted man which Scrap passed on to us.'

Kip went into the yard. A few moments later, he came back with Mrs Moon, her harassed face all angles where poverty and worry had worn away the flesh. As the yard door opened, Dickens heard a man shouting incoherently and the sound of banging as if someone were hitting something hard with a pan or something. It was a demented, nerve-jangling sound. The metallic noise seemed to reach a crescendo then there was the sound of something hurled at a door. Then he heard weeping, a horrible wrenching sound as if the sobs were being torn from the throat. Mrs Moon looked back. She looked at Dickens; her eyes were large with fear. She could hardly understand what a well-dressed man was doing in the alley. She closed the yard door and from behind her came Tilly, and Dickens saw what Scrap had meant.

She was the strangest child he had ever seen with her silver hair, white skin and large, myopic violet eyes. It was like seeing a sprite which had wandered from some enchanted wood. Dickens smiled at Mrs Moon.

‘Your boy gave a description of a man we want to question in relation to a murder which took place last night.' He let her assume that the ‘we' meant the police. ‘Superintendent Jones of Bow Street has sent a reward for the information.'

As he said the words, he felt that they sounded unconvincing, but Mrs Moon simply gazed at the sovereign in his hand.

‘I have told Kip that he must not do anything else – he must not try to find the man. It is a matter for the police.' He offered her the coin.

‘Thank you, sir. I thought somethin' 'ad 'appened. They looked frightened when they came back, said they'd seen a murderer. They shouldn't be out, but Kip earns a bit of money, and it's better sometimes for Tilly to – my 'usband's not always …' She looked back at the closed door. ‘I ought to go in. 'E's bad today – it's the pain. He imagines … Kip, Tilly, you'll stay in the yard until I tell you to come in.'