The Diamond Thief (5 page)

“Where do you live, then?”

“Here an’ there. Why?” he asked, suspiciously. “There ain’t no more room for no one else, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

Rémy shook her head. “I’m just passing through. Looking for someone.”

“Oh? Oo’s that, then?”

“His name is Abernathy.”

J’s fork froze on its way to his mouth. He even stopped chewing for a moment. He didn’t lift his chin, but looked up at her from beneath his brow. “What d’you want to find ‘im for?”

Rémy shifted in her seat. “You know him? Is he really a lord?”

The boy snorted. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘e’s a lord, alright. Listen to the Sally Ann and you’d think ‘e was a bleedin’ saint.”

Rémy frowned. “Sally Ann?”

J shook his head. “Don’t you have ‘em in France? The Salvation Army. They’re the only ones’ll feed you down ‘ere if you ain’t got nuffin. Give you a bed for the night too, if you read a bit of the good book wiv ‘em. Won’t give you booze, though. Don’t hold with it.” J sniggered through his food then looked back at Rémy, his expression suddenly serious. “You want to keep away from ‘im, though. Abernathy, I mean. I reckon ‘e’s dodgy as a fish stall after four o’ the clock.”

She leaned forward. “Why? Why do you think that?”

J resumed shovelling food into his mouth, taking a breath to lift his now-empty pint glass. “Could murder another pint o’ porter, I could.”

Rémy shook her head. “Tell me about Lord Abernathy, then we’ll see.”

“What do you want to know about ‘im for, anyway?” J asked, evasively.

“He stole something. Something valuable. Something I want. Something the police think I already have.”

J snorted. “The coppers? They’re about as useful as a cold cup o’ tea. They won’t follow you down ‘ere, and they won’t do nuffin about Abernathy, that’s for sure.”

“How do you know?”

“‘E’s got friends in ‘igh places. He’s a lord, ain’t he? Stands to reason. And…” J trailed off, staring at his plate.

“And what? Come on, J. Tell me.”

J shrugged. “People ‘ave been going missing for months down ‘ere,” he said. “No one cares, cos it’s just us, ain’t it? But me mate, he went one night, and I got to thinking. Got to looking around a bit more, like. And I reckon… Well, I reckon it’s ‘im.”

“Abernathy? You think he’s kidnapping people?”

“Ssh,” J hissed, looking around to see if anyone had overheard. “For gawd’s sake, keep your voice down!”

“All right, all right,” said Rémy, lowering her voice.

The boy fiddled with his glass for another moment, before he said, “I dunno. It’s just a hunch. The Sally Ann reckon ‘e’s all about building new ‘omes for us poor folk. They say that’s why e’s bought up all the old mines. Improvin’ our lives, they say. ‘E’s definitely got something going on down there in those tunnels. But I don’t think he’s buildin’ bits o’ ‘omes. I reckon it’s something else.”

“What?”

J shrugged. “How should I know?”

“Have you told anyone?” Rémy asked.

J snorted again, but this time it was a sadder sound. “Oo’s goin’ to listen to me?”

Rémy shrugged. “I am.”

The boy eyed her. “Yeah, but you’re like me, really, ain’t you? I mean, besides being a foreigner ‘an all that.”

“Where are these mines?’ Rémy asked after a moment. “Can you take me there?”

J looked at her with the steady stare of someone speaking to an addled mind. “As if. You’d not catch me getting close to ‘em. I’m not being caught. No, sir. Life’s bad enough already.” He banged his empty glass on the table. “I can take you to ‘is house, though. So, what about that porter, eh? Fair’s fair, ain’t it?”

Six

Suspicions and Accusations

Having interviewed as many of the circus folk as he could find and searched around for clues, it was the early hours of the morning by the time Thaddeus returned to Scotland Yard. The old building glimmered in the fresh rain and he was surprised to see that there were still lights on in the wing occupied by the detective division. His colleagues were not known for working late.

He felt eyes following him as he pushed through the wooden double doors and headed for his desk. There was a sudden hush, as if all conversations in the room had become unnecessary. Collins appeared from nowhere, looking surly.

“About time you showed up, boy. This place is in uproar because of you.” Collins nodded over his shoulder to the shut door of Chief Inspector Glove’s office. “He’s out for blood.”

Thaddeus nodded wearily as he dropped into his chair. He’d known as much, even without being told. “What is being done?” he asked Collins. “Have they questioned the guards? Do they have any more information about the girl?”

The other policeman crossed his arms. He opened his mouth to speak, too, but before Collins had a chance, the Chief Inspector’s door opened and Glove appeared. His gaze fell upon Thaddeus immediately and darkened. Thaddeus quickly stood up again.

“Rec.”

Thaddeus inclined his head. “Chief Inspector.”

Glove looked slowly around the room. The other detectives fell even quieter. The hush filled the room like a bubble ready to burst.

“So,” Glove said, a question in his voice. “Did you find the suspect – this girl you went to apprehend at… the circus?”

“She –” Thaddeus shook his head. “She wasn’t there, sir.”

The Chief Inspector looked at him steadily. “She wasn’t there.”

“No, sir. Or at least – she was there.” He looked at Collins for support. “Collins saw her, same as me. When we first arrived, she was in the middle of her act, sir. But after that… she vanished.”

Glove turned his gaze on Collins. “And do you confirm that the girl you saw on the trapeze was the same girl at Lord Abernathy’s side earlier this evening, Collins?”

There was a pause. Collins cheeks reddened. Thaddeus felt the knot in his stomach tighten. “I… No, sir,” said Collins. “No. I can’t.”

“Collins!” Thaddeus said, “but you saw –”

The other man shook his head, impatient. “What I saw, lad, was a circus girl on a wire. Her face was so covered in paint, even her mother would find it hard to recognise her! Secondly, how you think she stole the jewel and got back in time to be up there, doing her act, is beyond me. And thirdly –” Collins shrugged, looking at the Chief Inspector. “Does there need to be a thirdly, Chief?”

Glove raised one eyebrow. “Probably not. So how do you explain all this, young Rec?”

“But… but she disappeared straight after her act,” Thaddeus stuttered. “No one would tell me where she was. And I swear, it was her, I know it.”

“It’s very convenient, isn’t it?” said Glove. “You alone are convinced that the girl at the Tower is the same girl you saw at the circus. And now that girl has also vanished. And didn’t I hear that you were hanging around the circus last night – looking for a buyer perhaps?”

Thaddeus shook his head, confused. What was happening here? “A buyer? Sir, I don’t –”

“Well,” continued the chief inspector, “it just so happens that you were the last one to be in possession of the Shah of Persia’s diamond.”

Thaddeus felt his blood freeze in his veins. “Sir? Wh– what are you suggesting?”

“Well, my boy, we only have your word for it that the diamond wasn’t in your pocket when you started yelling blue murder. Don’t we?” Glove began to pace, hands in his pockets. “You went running off after a lord and a girl, claiming one of them had nicked it, and ran straight out of the Tower. Of course, no one even contemplated stopping you. Then all of a sudden, you decided that the place to find this girl was the circus. The circus! Where every good man knows that every bad man finds his level. The perfect place, in fact, to fence a stolen jewel if, of course, you had one. Now don’t you think that’s all a little odd, boys, a little… convenient, perhaps?”

There was a murmur of assent among the gathered detectives. Thaddeus cast a fevered look around their familiar faces and suddenly felt as if he were staring at strangers.

“Sir,” he began hoarsely. “Sir, you can’t really believe that of me. This is – sir, this is me!”

Glove stopped pacing and stood before Thaddeus. He looked the younger man up and down once before nodding heavily. “Yes. Yes, it is you, Rec. And I’m sorry to say that I was fool enough to believe that a leopard could change his spots. Now, people may say that it’s admirable – the son of thieves wanting to dedicate his life to the police. I thought so, too, at the time. It’s why I gave you a chance, Rec. I thought you might be a good example to others.” Glove held up his hand to silence the other detectives who had begun to mutter upon hearing this hint about Thaddeus’ past. “But I went too far, didn’t I? Gave you free reign, let you inside, so to speak. Trusted you. Where were you born, Rec?”

Thaddeus blinked. “W– Whitechapel Road, sir.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. Remind me which house on Whitechapel Road, Rec.”

Thaddeus felt his cheeks burning hot as his vision blurred. The murmuring started again as he shook his head and whispered, “Not in a house, sir. On the street. I was born… on the street.”

“Ah, yes,” said Glove, his eyes gleaming. “I remember now.”

Thaddeus forced himself to straighten up and raise his head, despite his shame. “It doesn’t matter where I came from, sir, and you know it. I’m a good copper.”

The chief inspector crossed his arms. “Is that so? And what, as a ‘good copper’, do you suggest we do now then, Rec?”

“I think we should talk to Lord Abernathy. He was with the girl at the Tower. He might know –”

Glove made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “So, now you’re proposing to question a lord of the realm, are you, Rec? And Lord Abernathy at that – a pillar of respectable society. You? And what makes you think you have the right to do that? What makes you think you have the right to cast doubt on a noble man?”

Thaddeus frowned. “No – not doubt, sir. But he may know something. Surely it would help?”

“I don’t see how. No, Rec, we’ll not find the culprit among the good society of London. We’ll have to look at the lower orders for that.” Glove paused, looking significantly at Thaddeus. “Which brings us back to you, doesn’t it, Rec? Why did you stay at the circus, after Collins here had realized it was a wild goose chase?”

Thaddeus shut his eyes briefly. “I wanted to find out more about the girl – the trapeze performer.”

“And why did you want to do that?”

“Because I thought there was still a chance that it was the same girl who was at the Tower when the jewel went missing, sir.”

“And what did you find out, then? On this urgent and, if I may say so, probably pointless mission?”

With a shaking hand, Thaddeus took out his notebook and opened it to the page that he’d scrawled on earlier. “I found out her real name, sir. I think we might be able to trace her. Find out if she’s been in trouble for a similar crime before. Her real name is – Moineau Volant.”

Glove froze for a second, frowning. Then he burst into laughter. Thaddeus watched him, confused and not a little afraid.

“Sir?” he asked. “What’s – what’s so funny?”

“That’s her name, is it, Rec? Moineau Volant?”

“Yes, sir – several of the circus folk confirmed it.”

Glove shook his head, his laughter still ringing in Thaddeus’ ears. “It’s not a name, Rec – or at least, it’s not a real one. But then, what should I expect? That a boy born in the sewer would know a refined language like French?” The chief inspector snatched the notepad from his hand, glancing at it before holding it up for all to see. “Moineau Volant, indeed. It means ‘Flying Sparrow’, Rec. Flying Sparrow.”

Flying Sparrow. A second ticked by, empty and cold, and then – Yes, thought Thaddeus, as realization washed over him, followed by dread. Yes. A little bird, indeed, and one who flies through the air every night.

“So, Rec – your sparrow has flown away and, with it, your suspect. Which brings me back to thinking about how the diamond vanished, and who it was with when it did – you.”

Thaddeus stared at his superior officer, feeling everything spinning out of his control. All his colleagues were looking at him, their eyes full of suspicion and disdain. How could they think he took the stone? How could they? More importantly, how could he prove that he didn’t without finding the person who had?

“Chief Inspector – I suggest that you search the circus. It’s there, sir – it must be! You’ll have to move quickly, before they pack up and disappear.”

“And what should I do with you in the meantime, Rec? Let you go free? Let you ‘help’ us find it? Let you wriggle your way out by pinning the theft on someone else?”

For a second, Thaddeus was speechless. Could they really be accusing him of this crime? “Sir,” he said. “I have never stolen a thing in my life. You know I wouldn’t do this.” Glove’s face remained stony. He looked at Collins, instead. “Collins, you know me. You know I wouldn’t!”

Collins shook his head and looked away. “Sorry, son,” he said, quietly. “But I don’t know anything.”

“Take him away, Collins,” said the Chief Inspector. “Thaddeus Rec, you are under arrest for the theft of the Darya-ye Noor –”

“Wait!” Thaddeus shouted desperately, “No, you cannot possibly believe that I –”

“Put him in one of the cells downstairs overnight, Collins,” Glove continued, ignoring Thaddeus. “We’ll all get some rest and question him properly in the morning. He might be more cooperative then.”

“No,” shouted Thaddeus again, “No, wait, I…”

“Come on, boy,” said Collins calmly, placing a hand on Thaddeus’ arm. “Come quietly now. You know the drill. If you’re innocent you’ve got nothing to worry about, have you? Don’t make things worse for yourself, eh? There’s a good lad.”

Rec stared at the older policeman for a moment. He felt as if all the stuffing had been knocked out of him. He loved being a policeman. The detective division had become his life, his whole purpose. And now they had turned on him. All of them. What was the point, if they didn’t believe him now? His shoulders dropped and he nodded at Collins. Together, they walked out of the room, every pair of eyes following their progress.

They were in the cold corridor that led to the cells when Collins stopped.

“Hit me,” he hissed.

Thaddeus stared at him. “What?”

“Come on, boy! Hit me and run! We haven’t got much time!”

“But you said –”

“Aye, I knows what I said. That was for them, weren’t it? Now I’m saying to you, clout me one and scarper before they know what’s happening. You won’t get a fair deal in here – a copper, gone bad, and one born to the streets at that? They’ll have your guts for garters. You didn’t take it, lad, I know that. You don’t have a bad bone in you. But in here, you’ll never prove it. So come on – hit me!”

Thaddeus shook his head. “I can’t!”

Collins grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “For god’s sake! They’ll hang you out to dry unless we can prove you didn’t do it, Thaddeus! And not one of them will bother even trying. They’ve got their man, as far as they’re concerned – don’t you understand? Nought you can do from inside a cell. Hit me, boy! Quick, before someone comes!”

Behind them, there came the sound of raised voices – the rest of the division were preparing to head home. He looked Collins in the eye. The older man nodded.

“Come on, lad,” he said, softly. “You can do it.”

“I can’t,” Thaddeus said, biting his lip. “Collins, you’re just going to have to take me to the cells. I just can’t.”

The older man shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted. The door at the other end of the corridor – the one that led to fresh air and freedom – banged open, forced back on its hinges so violently that it struck the wall, sending a plume of paint and plaster into the air. Through it strode a tall, bald man who seemed to be spreading smoke in his wake. He wore no hat, and the pale skin of his head shone faintly in the sickly light of the hallway. His black wool tailcoat was covered with dust, which somehow lent him a ghostly air, and the heels of his dirty boots clicked sharply on the worn wooden floor.

“Stand aside, sir,” shouted the newcomer at Collins. “Unhand the boy!”

Collins raised his hands, but before he could say anything, the stranger had pulled something from inside his coat and took aim at the policeman. In shape it vaguely resembled a pistol, but there the similarity ended. It was like no gun Thaddeus had ever seen. It was the size of a loaf of bread, and silver, with a thin central column that attached a bulbous handle to a chamber of purple liquid at one end and a small dish-like muzzle at the other. This was the end that the man was pointing at the terrified Collins.

“Wait,” Thaddeus exclaimed as the man prepared to fire. “Wait,
don’t –”

Behind him, the door at the other end of the corridor opened as the rest of the detective division headed for home, led by a rosy-cheeked and triumphant Chief Inspector Glove.

“You, there!” the Chief Inspector shouted, stopping dead when he saw the scene unfolding in front of him. “What the devil are you doing?”

The stranger fired. His peculiar pistol shot a column of compressed purple air straight at Collins’ face. The policeman’s surprised eyes clouded over immediately and he slumped against the wall before sliding to the floor in a heap. The intruder then turned the weapon on Glove, who uttered an unceremonious yell and dived for the floor, the rest of the detectives following suit.

The stranger grabbed Thaddeus’ arm. “Come on,” he urged, pulling him towards the door.