Chapter 1: Old Faces and New.
Author's Note: Not strictly in keeping with the 2nd series of Ripper Street. In this fanfic Drake has not got married. Also there are probably a lot of terrible errors in terms of historical fact and characters – my apologies for this but I love the series and this idea popped into my head. Hope you can forgive and enjoy, please R+R.
Sergeant Bennet Drake shrugged out of his coat, huffing and puffing as he hung it on the coat rack by the door of the office. He blew onto his hands in a feeble attempt to warm them. Detective Inspector Reid appeared in the doorway of his connecting private office and nodded a stoic greeting to his colleague.
"I reckon we will see some snow before the day is out sir." Drake raised his eyebrows to emphasise the seriousness of the circumstances, although neither of the men were surprised by the situation as it was after all late November.
"Jackson's finished his examinations of the body; he said he would brief us up here shortly." Reid explained
"Thank heavens for small mercies" Drake muttered. Reid huffed a small knowing laugh at his Sergeant, who was more than a colleague; a close and trusted friend was more apt to describe the mercenary with a heart of gold who assisted him in policing the wild streets of Whitechapel. There were few things the hardened soldier complained about, but the cold was definitely one of them; and the 'dead room' Jackson inhabited was always kept on the wrong side of cool. "Flight has been busy again I see" Bennet grinned as he picked up the paper that Detective Constable Albert Flight had left on the desk in the very early hours of that morning.
"Indeed, now we have a context in which to place the name and body we already had. The man was clearly murdered, now we must discover why." Reid acknowledged staring out of the window down to the frosty streets below, where the populace bustled about their daily chores.
"A nice address at which to live I must say; and his clothes were fine too sir. Our Mr Morgan was clearly well to do..." Drake spoke his thoughts out loud "So why was he found dead in the alley behind one of the most notorious public houses in London?"
"Precisely my question Sergeant" Reid enthused as he sat opposite his subordinate.
"He was found dead in that alley but I would say he wasn't killed there my friends" Captain Homer Jackson drawled, his trademark cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth as he spoke. "There wasn't much blood when we moved the body and he sure as hell would have pumped some out with a knife wound like that." He paused to exhale smoke in the direction of the two men who were listening intently. "The corpse was clean, the man looked after himself – we can all tell by looking that he was well fed, if you get my meaning. If I was a gambling man..."
"Which you are" Drake interrupted with a smirk
"I'd say he hadn't entered the establishment behind which he was found. Either our killer wanted the body to be discovered quickly; or they were too naive to realise how much business that alley sees and thought it would be kept hidden until daylight. " Jackson paused to light another cigarette and to perch on the corner of Drake's desk " Medically speaking Morgan died from a stab wound to the heart, death would have been instantaneous and the knife was big."
"Anything else?" Reid questioned.
"No – oh wait yes – rings"
"Rings?" Drake repeated.
"Yes my little parrot friend! Rings! He was wearing several gold and jewelled rings, if I was going to kill and rob a man I would certainly have pilfered those. This was no robbery." Jackson crossed his legs and looked satisfied with himself as he finished his observation. When they had first started working together Jackson and Drake had struggled to get along with one another, their hostility barely disguised, but over time each had reached an understanding of the other; so now any jibes were made and taken in jest and a mutual respect was clear between the men.
"Right you take Flight and visit the widow and immediate neighbours see what they have to say about the late Mr Morgan. I want to have a look at the alley in the light – Jackson you come with me" Reid issued instructions to Drake and Jackson respectively. Dutifully the men donned their coats and headed out onto the cold and dangerous streets.
It was early afternoon when Sergeant Drake and Constable Flight returned to Leman Street Station, both rosy cheeked from exposure to the elements, but eager to impart their new found knowledge with their colleagues. Jackson handed the men a measure of whisky in mug as they all sat together.
"Mrs Morgan is understandably distressed having just been bereft of her husband, she asserted that no one would ever have cause to be his enemy as he was so kind hearted." Drake began but was interrupted by the eager constable sat to his right.
"But as we were leaving..." Flight was cut off by a cough and a stern raised eyebrow from Drake, which implied he was to learn his place and wait his turn to speak. Bennet knew he was a promising officer and that he himself would do everything he could to encourage and mentor the young man; but he must also earn his chances which for the moment meant remaining the inferior of the group.
"We also spoke to some of the neighbours" The sergeant began starting off where he had left "There was a mixed response, mainly that the late Mr Morgan was stand-offish, churlish, bordering on rude to them but that they never had a cause to quarrel with him; he merely liked to keep himself to himself. The gentleman who lives directly opposite him had more to add though; he often sits in his front room and saw lots of comings and goings at the Morgan household. Now he said that quite often men, who he assumed were business associates, would visit the house; and that more often than not these men would only visit once or twice and came away with faces like thunder after arguing with the deceased." Drake sniffed and then took a sip from his cup "As Flight was so keen to report, as we were leaving the neighbours home a man by the name of Victor Fledging arrived at the Morgan's, not realising the fate that had befallen Mr Morgan, he was banging on the front door, shouting at the top of his voice and demanding to see the man himself" Reid leant forward in anticipation, his usual serious expression fixed on his face, eyes eager. Drake could always tell a good story. "Well given the state of poor Mrs Morgan and our ongoing investigation we took it upon ourselves to intervene. When we explained ourselves Mr Fledging was very forthcoming and told us all he knew about Mr Morgan and why he was stood at his door in such a temper." As if on cue, Jackson added more liquor to the sergeant's cup. "It seems Morgan was in the investment business, only his investments were not doing so well according to Mr Fledging; who himself found out at first light this morning that he had lost a considerable amount of money due to the advice and ministrations of the deceased. He's also heard rumours that a great number of schemes Morgan promoted and encouraged his associates to fund have all gone the same way – so there could be a great number of enemies to be found." He looked at Flight and decided he had waited long enough to have his moment, the poor young man was almost jigging in his seat with eagerness to participate in reporting their findings. Feeling like a father indulging a young son, Drake sat back "Go on then tell them about the other information he gave us" Grinning from ear to ear Flight took the lead.
"Mr Fledging told us that finances weren't the only things in which Mr Morgan dealt. He has heard that if a businessman of some standing is in search of a wife, but has specific requirements, Mr Morgan is or should I say was in a position to arrange this for a fee. Fledging suggested that the fee wasn't always financial and that sometimes the brides were sourced from families who were in debt and had no way of paying off their arrears; he implied they were not always willing." For a moment the room remained silent as the men processed the information.
"Mr Morgan didn't always do business alone, he was associated with one Mr Holland" Drake added
"Interesting, clearly anyone who has lost a deal of money would have a certain motive for murder. Find an address for this Holland." Reid ordered.
"I've already got it sir" Flight held out a piece of paper
"Excellent thank you Flight" Reid liked the man's efficiency "You get up to the archive and telegraph room and see what information you can uncover on the man's dealings while we pay a visit to his business partner."
The house owned by Mr Holland was large and grand, it was also technically under another division, but as it was connected to a H-division case there was no need to notify another station. A neatly turned out maid led them into a richly decorated study and left them with the man of the house. Mr Peter Holland, was a portly man who was nearing sixty years old, he showed his wealth in his clothes and his countenance. As the senior officer Reid took the lead and explained the reason for their intrusion, to some extent but avoided voicing their interest in him; asking vague questions.
"I knew Bertram socially and not at all that well to be honest with you" Peter shrugged, ringing for the maid to return, when she did he told her to fetch his wife. "My wife has a much better recollection of these kinds of things than I – well women do don't they." Drake was looking at the titles on one of the bookshelves that lined the walls as they waited; he was expecting a mature, well rounded woman to materialize, instead he was shocked at the appearance of Mrs Holland. The woman who entered the study gracefully was no more than twenty-five, tall, slim and stunningly beautiful. Her dark blonde hair was artfully arranged at the back of her head and she lacked the pompousness of her husband. The thing that surprised Jackson and Drake most of all however was the look of recognition that crossed her beautiful face when she saw Edmund Reid.
"Grace, this is..." Peter began.
"Mr Reid, my goodness what a surprise!"Grace beamed at the Inspector, her husband was dumbfounded.
"Mrs Holland, it is a pleasure to see you again after all these years, all grown up – you were what fourteen when we last met. Drake you remember Harry Archway surely? Well this is his daughter." Reid informed Bennet "May I introduce my colleagues Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson?" Grace dipped her head in greeting to the latter, then turned her attention to Drake.
"Sergeant I don't believe we ever met, but my father spoke of you so often and with such admiration that I feel as though I already know you!"
"Your father was a truly great man Mrs Holland and it was an honour to know and work with him. I was pleased to have known him and now I am pleased to know you" He tried desperately to sound polite and respectful to the woman he thought was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of meeting the great Inspector Archway ma'm, but I have heard what a respected and talented officer he was. He is a hero at Leman Street still, I only wish I could have known him myself" Jackson expressed his genuine sorrow at the situation.
"Thank you both of you, will you take tea?"
"These officers are not here for a social visit my dear, they need some information from us" Peter interrupted tersely as his wife took a seat near the fireplace; he motioned for his guests to reseat themselves. He, however, remained standing and placed a possessive hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Oh I apologise, how can I be of service?" Grace inquired, Jackson began to mentally list the ways she could 'be of service' but then discreetly shook his head acknowledging that his thoughts were completely inappropriate. Reid frowned, wondering how best to explain the demise of their victim to a female.
"Inspector Reid is investigating the murder of Bertram Morgan, dearest. I have already explained that I only knew him from my club and that we saw him socially occasionally, but I can't recall the dates, I thought that you might be able to help." Peter explained to his wife, she looked up at him before returning her gaze to Reid.
"I believe we last saw Mr and Mrs Morgan at the end of last month, they dined with us here, before that I couldn't say. I could find the exact date if needs be." Grace answered.
"We were led to believe that Mr Morgan and your husband were involved in some business together, do either of you have any notion of why that would be?" Reid continued delicately.
"No idea at all I'm afraid my dear fellow" Peter half chuckled, "Holland's a popular name – maybe it is another man who shares my surname."
"Mrs Holland?"
"I'm afraid I can't help you Inspector, my husband does all his business at the office and as I said we rarely saw the Morgan's and never in relation to his work."
"Well thank you both for your time and your help" Reid said as he stood readying to leave.
"Mr Holland are you familiar with the Horseshoe Inn?" Drake acted on his instinct, which had served him well in the past.
"No, it doesn't sound like a place I would frequent Sergeant. I've never even heard of it." Peter grinned a sickly smile.
"So you wouldn't have been anywhere near there yesterday night?"
"No I was here with my wife Sergeant, wasn't I?"
"Yes, my husband was here all of last evening, I would have known if he had left" Grace agreed, but she made the mistake of looking at Bennet as she spoke, he saw the sorrow and fear in her eyes, saw the guilt; saw the lie.