The Hyde Park Headsman (38 page)

BOOK: The Hyde Park Headsman
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Uttley looked startled, then composed himself rapidly.

“Then you had better go and look for him. It should not be beyond the powers of an officer of your experience to detect where one of your men has got to.” He laughed loudly. “What a farce! Gilbert and Sullivan could write a hilarious song about you, Superintendent, even funnier than the one in
Pirates.
Wait until the newspapers hear that the superintendent in charge of the case is busy combing London for one of his own constables. I imagine the cartoonists will have a marvelous time. What a gift!”

“You seem to think I shall have some difficulty, Mr. Uttley,” Pitt said just as clearly and penetratingly as Uttley had spoken. “Will it not be simply a matter of going to the appropriate station and inquiring as to who was on duty that evening?”

“I have no idea,” Uttley replied, but there was a very faint pinkness to his cheeks and his eyes did not meet Pitt’s as squarely as they had before. He thrust his hands deeper into his
pockets and turned away. “And now if there is nothing further I can do for you, I have a great deal of other business to attend. I am sorry I cannot do anything to help you when you so apparently need it.”

“You have helped me a great deal,” Pitt replied. Then he added with a touch of bravado, “In fact, you may have solved it for me entirely. Good day, sir.” He walked out of the front door and passed the two young men on the steps, tipping his hat gently. “Good day, gentlemen.”

They turned to stare after him as he went on down the steps to the pavement, then looked at each other with wide eyes.

Pitt intended going straight to the police station from where any patrolling constable would have come, but before he reached it he was crossing a broad thoroughfare, moving between a fishmonger’s barrow and a cart filled with potatoes and cabbages, when he was accosted by a very fat man with grayish hair which fell in curls over his collar. His green eyes were bulbous in his bloated face. He was dressed immaculately with a long gold watch chain across his vast stomach. Beside him was another man, who barely came up to his elbow, his squat figure distorted, his sharp face vicious, lips open to show pointed, discolored teeth.

“Good morning, George,” Pitt said to the huge man. He looked from Fat George to his companion. “Good morning, Georgie.”

“Ah, Mr. Pitt,” Fat George said in a soft, high-pitched voice, oddly sad and whispering. “You’ve let us down, sir, that you have. The park isn’t safe for gentlemen anymore. It’s awful hard for business, sir. Awful hard.”

“You aren’t doing right by us, Mr. Pitt,” Wee Georgie added in a voice that was a hideous mimicry of his partner’s, the same breathy softness, but with a sibilance which made it harsher and immeasurably uglier. “We don’t like that. It’s costing us a lot o’ money, Mr. Pitt.”

“If I knew who the Headsman was, I assure you I’d arrest him,” Pitt answered as levelly as he could. “We are doing everything we can to find him.”

“Not good enough, Mr. Pitt,” Wee Georgie said, pulling a face. “Not good enough at all.”

“There’s a lot of gentlemen wot’s too scared to take their pleasures, Mr. Pitt,” Fat George added, poking his silver-handled stick at the ground. “They’re not happy, not happy at all.”

“Then you had better see what you can do to find out who the Headsman is,” Pitt replied. “You have more eyes and ears in the park than I have.”

“We don’t know anyfink,” Fat George said plaintively. “I thought we’d told you that already, one way and another. Do you suppose if we did we’d be standing here in this street between the carts reproaching you, Mr. Pitt? We’d have dealt with him ourselves. It isn’t any of our people. If you imagine it is something to do with business, you are mistaken.”

“Fool!” Wee Georgie spoke viciously. “Cretin! Do you think we like this kind o’ thing going on? If one of our people started cutting gents’ ’eads off, we’d stick a shiv in ’is back and put ’im in the river. We might teach the odd person a lesson wot gets above ’emselves and starts poachin’, but never touch a toff. It’s bad for business, and that’s stupid!” He fingered something at the side of his leg, invisible under his coat. Pitt was sure it was a knife. The little man licked his lips with a pointed tongue and stared at Pitt without blinking.

“What Georgie says is true, Mr. Pitt,” Fat George whispered, breathing in and out wheezily. “It’s not us. It’s somefink to do with gentlemen, you mark my words.”

“A lunatic from some …” Pitt began.

Fat George shook his head. “You know better than that, Mr. Pitt. I’m surprised at you. You’re wasting my time. There’s no lunatic living in the park, we both know that.”

Wee Georgie fidgeted from one foot to the other. A succession of carts and wagons was passing in the streets just beyond the two men.

Pitt did not argue. He had never thought it was a random madman.

“You’d better find ’im, Mr. Pitt,” Fat George said again, shaking his head till his curls bounced on his Astrakhan collar. “Or we shall be very upset, Wee Georgie and me.”

“I shall be upset myself,” Pitt said sourly. “But if it really bothers you, you’d better start doing something about it yourself.”

Wee Georgie looked at him venomously. Fat George smiled, but there was neither humor nor pleasantness in it.

“That’s your job, Mr. Pitt,” he said softly. “We would like it very much if you would attend to it.” And without saying anything further he turned on his heel and in a moment had disappeared between the carts. Wee Georgie looked up at Pitt one more time, his eyes full of malice, then trotted after his
companion. He was obliged to trot in order to keep up, and it infuriated him.

Pitt continued on his way without giving the matter a great deal more thought, but it was an indication of the public mood that even Fat George should have felt the pinch of fear touching his business.

At the police station he was met with blank incomprehension. The inspector who spoke to him was a tall, lean man with a lugubrious, ascetic face and an air of harrowed dignity.

“We don’t know anything about it,” he said wearily. “Incredible as it seems, it was not reported to us. I know little more than I read in the newspapers.”

“Not reported?” Pitt was startled. “This is the right station?”

“Yes it is.” The inspector sighed. “I checked all my men. I wanted to know for myself what irresponsible idiot spoke to Uttley about it, but no one was on patrol in that area. And I’ve checked, so you don’t need to wonder if my men are telling the truth or if someone is trying to lie their way out of a stupid mistake. Every man can account for where he was. Uttley didn’t get it from one of them.”

“How very curious,” Pitt said thoughtfully. He did not doubt the man, nor did he think his constables were lying; it would be too easy to check, and the man found in such a stupid act would lose his employment.

“It’s a dammed sight more than that,” the inspector said tartly. “I can only suppose it must have been one of the people who came to help. Radley himself would hardly have told the newspapers. He at least seems to be on our side. He’s about the only one. Have you seen the papers, sir?”

“Yes—yes, that’s how I heard of it, in spite of the fact that Radley’s my brother-in-law.”

The inspector’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Wasn’t he going to report it?”

“To me, because the man had an ax, but not to you. Wanted to save us the publicity of another attack.”

“Makes us look pretty stupid, doesn’t it?” the inspector said grimly. “It has to come to a sad state when a member of Parliament rides to power on the tide of public disgust with the police.” He pulled a face. “Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it, that the Headsman should attack Uttley’s rival in the by-election?”

“More than a bit,” Pitt replied. “Thank you for your time, Inspector. I think I’ll go and see these gentlemen who came to Mr. Radley’s aid, see what they have to say for themselves.”

“Can’t think what for. They didn’t see the wretched man,” the inspector said lugubriously. “Still, if you think it’s worth it?”

“Oh yes—yes, it may be.”

“Most certainly not, sir,” Mr. Milburn said in amazement. “That would be an inexcusable liberty, sir. Why in Heaven’s name should I do such a thing, indeed?”

“It might have been how you saw your public duty,” Pitt responded soothingly. “Or it is possible to let something slip in the heat of the moment.”

Mr. Milburn stood very straight, his shoulders square.

“The only heated moment, sir, was at the time of the attack upon the poor gentleman. And the lady too, for Heaven’s sake! Right in the middle of an exceptional area like this. A person is not safe anywhere these days.” Mr. Milburn shook his head, then ran his short fingers through his hair. “I really don’t know what things are coming to. I don’t wish to appear critical, sir, but the police force ought to be able to do better than this. We are living in the largest city in the world, and many would say the most civilized, and yet we walk our own streets in fear of anarchists and lunatics. It is not good enough, sir!”

“I regret it,” Pitt said sincerely. “But I know of nothing we could do that we are not doing.”

“I daresay, I daresay.” Milburn nodded and looked a trifle embarrassed. “Fear does not bring out the best in us. Perhaps I spoke hastily. Is there any way in which I can be of help?”

“Did you recognize anyone, sir?” Pitt asked.

“My dear fellow, I did not even see the attack. I was in my bedroom preparing to retire when I heard the good lady’s screams. I immediately ran down the stairs and out into the street to see what assistance I could give.”

“That is most commendable,” Pitt said sincerely. “And I may say, very brave.”

Milburn colored faintly.

“Thank you, sir, thank you. I freely admit I did not even think of the danger to myself at the time, or I might have reconsidered the matter. But that is as it may be. No, I cannot help you in the slightest in that regard, I am afraid.”

“Actually, sir, I meant did you recognize the lady and gentleman who were the victims of the attack?”

“No sir, I did not. It was all extremely hasty and in the dark. And I confess, normally I wear spectacles. I did not have them
on this occasion, of course. The gentleman appeared to be quite young. He certainly moved in the most agile manner. And robust, yes definitely robust I cannot say more than that.” He took a deep breath and regarded Pitt very soberly. “As for the lady, it was certain she had spirit, and very fine lungs, but I really did not notice beyond that, even if she were fair or dark, comely or plain. I am sorry, sir, it seems I can be of no use whatever. I begin to appreciate your difficulty.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Milburn,” Pitt replied. “You are of the utmost help possible. In fact I think you may have solved the entire problem for me. Thank you, sir, good day to you.” And he excused himself and left Mr. Milburn standing open-mouthed, searching in vain for something appropriate to say.

But at Bow Street the reception was entirely different. Giles Farnsworth was in Pitt’s office, pacing the floor. He swung around as soon as he heard Pitt’s hand on the door and he was facing Pitt as he entered, a newspaper in his hand.

“I assume you have read this?” he said furiously. “How do you explain it? What are you doing about it?” He waved the paper in the air. “Now a prospective member of Parliament has been attacked in the heart of Mayfair! Do you know anything about this Headsman at all, Pitt? Any single damn thing!”

“I know this wasn’t the Headsman,” Pitt replied in a calm, precise voice.

“Not the Headsman?” Farnsworth said incredulously. “Are you telling me we have two homicidal lunatics running around London swinging axes at people?”

“No, we have one madman and one opportunist taking advantage of the situation.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Farnsworth demanded. “What sort of advantage would a sane man possibly take of this nightmare?”

“Political,” Pitt replied succinctly.

“Political?” Farnsworth’s eyes opened and he stood perfectly still. “Are you saying what I think you are, Pitt? My God, if you make this accusation, you’d better be right. And you’d better be able to prove it.”

“I can’t prove it sufficiently to charge him,” Pitt replied, walking into the room and across to his desk. “But I am satisfied it was he who attacked Mr. and Mrs. Radley last night.”

Farnsworth stared at him, the newspaper forgotten. “Are you? Your word, Pitt?”

“My word,” Pitt replied slowly.

“How do you know? He didn’t admit it?”

“No, of course not; but it was he who wrote it up in the newspapers. He told me that he heard of it from a constable on duty, but there was no such constable, nor did he learn it from the man who came to Mr. Radley’s rescue, because he was unaware of Radley’s identity.”

“Indeed,” Farnsworth said thoughtfully. “The man’s a complete fool.” The contempt in his voice was stinging. Then he dismissed the matter and looked back at Pitt with a return of his anxiety. “What about the real Headsman? The whole city is under a pall of terror. There have been questions in the House of Commons, the Home Secretary has been severely embarrassed at the dispatch box. Her Majesty has expressed her concern. She is distressed, and has made it known.” Suddenly his voice rose, harsh and furious, the fear rushing back in like a tide. “For God’s sake, Pitt, what’s the matter with you, man? There must be something you can do to find enough evidence to arrest him!”

“Are you talking about Carvell again, sir?” Pitt asked carefully.

“Of course I’m talking about Carvell,” Farnsworth snapped. “The man had the motive, the means and the opportunity. You’ve got the ideal leverage to pressure him into a confession. Use it!”

“I don’t have anything—” Pitt began, but Farnsworth interrupted him impatiently.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” He slashed his hand through the air. “Tellman’s right, you’re too squeamish. This is not the time or the place to indulge your personal conscience, Pitt.” He leaned forward across the corner of the desk, resting his hands on it, staring at Pitt eye to eye. “You have obligations, duties to your superiors and to the force. You’ve got to be above such things. They’re for juniors, if you like, not for the men in charge. Face your responsibilities, Pitt—or resign!”

BOOK: The Hyde Park Headsman
13.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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