C1 Stitching up bites
It was a brisk November Saturday, Bonfire Night in fact and one of the busiest nights for the police force. Having just had Halloween and Mischief Night the police were hoping for a quiet shift. The past week had been merry chaos across the city, children and students playing pranks combined with an increase in fights had just about exhausted them. Then of course the police themselves often fell victim. This year it was Detective Sargent Flight's turn. He had the misfortune to fall into a cellar resulting in a right leg broken in two places, three cracked rips, multiple bruises and a nasty case of concussion. He was currently laid up in The Royal London Hospital and out of action for the several weeks. Bonfire night was always lively. It was beyond doubt the police would be called out to a fire. Add to this a nasty northerly that had swept down from Yorkshire bringing with it a spate of colds and flu all added up to a recipe for trouble.
In the Dead Room, Captain Homer Jackson was finishing writing a report on the substances found in the jacket pocket of a student. Said student had somehow managed to get himself shackled upside down to a lamppost. The student was alive, in good health baring the effects of the substance and currently residing in a cell. Jackson was thinking about slipping home for a late lunch when the door opened with a bang. In limped Reid, Drake and young Constable Hendon. All three were limping, had shredded trousers and deep cuts to their arms that were bleeding badly.
"Hellfire what happened to you!" Jackson asked leaping to his feet.
"We were on duty at the circus for their lunchtime performance," Reid replied.
"A trio of lions escaped as the last act ended. We tried to get them back but well, we didn't have much luck," Drake said wincing.
"Or were let loose. Expect three dead bodies arriving shortly," Reid said, gingerly peeling off his ruined jacket.
"The dead can wait, I need to deal with those cuts before they turn nasty," Jackson said.
Pulling out the right equipment Jackson set about cleaning, stitching and bandaging the wounds. Several yelps and numerous swearwords accompanied the work. Looking at Drake's wounds Jackson saw the scars of past injuries, deep cuts and numerous bullet wounds. Drake's impressive tattoos also caught his attention, Homer's mind flicking back to the knowledge of Egypt he had gained from museums and his Pinkerton brothers.
A short time later the work was complete, the trio gathering in Reid's office to assess the situation. Constable Hendon had been set the task of writing up a report of what had taken place.
"Christ those cuts are more painful that some wounds I got fighting abroad," Drake groaned sitting down.
"Lion claws are sharper than knives, the three of you are lucky not to have lost a limb," Jackson replied in a matter of fact tone.
"What I want to know is how the animals got out in the first place. I've known old Ringmaster Jupiter for years. All of the performers know their business, be out of character for anyone there to let an animal escape," Drake said.
"The circus people are trustworthy?" Reid asked opening a notepad.
"So far as I can say."
"Has anything like this happened before?"
"Well one time two elephants and a zebra escaped, caused a bit of damage to property and washing," Drake replied chuckling.
"Then someone must have deliberately set the animals loose. Locks we know can be broken," Reid mused.
A few hours later Jackson, Reid and Drake stood in the Dead Room looking at the three bodies. Two were white men in their forties, one all muscle the other thin, while the third was an Indian boy in in his late teens. All three were covered in multiple wounds.
"All three had been murdered prior to being savaged by the lions," Jackson said, pointing out the stab wounds. "In the pockets of the older men I found these."
On the table were two address books, paperwork offering to buy the circus, multiple knives, two guns and a photograph of a young Indian women dressed in western clothing in what appeared to be a nice room. The paperwork stated a Mr Silas Duggan wished to purchase the circus from Mr Jupiter. The paperwork also mentioned a company owned by Silas Duggan.
"Silas Duggan, that name rings a bell," Reid muttered.
"Well Inspector I know the big man. What his right name is I couldn't say, round 'ere he's known as The Blacksmith. He's a local heavy, got several pages of form, just done three months."
"I don't remember him being brought in," Reid muttered twiddling a pen idly.
"He was arrested with that bunch we picked for the ruckus in the music hall. He was the one who broke the owner's nose. I know the lads in The City want a few quiet words with him," Drake said grimly.
"Oh now I remember. I will send word to Inspector Ressler for all information relating to him. If the Blacksmith is wanted in The City then Inspector Ressler with know why. The other gentlemen looks to be middle class. Regardless this Silas Duggan character, he seems to be involved in some dubious dealings," Inspector Reid replied thoughtfully.
"Why would a business man be interested in a circus? Jupiter is only here twice a year, only reason would be supplies," Drake replied scratching his chin.
"Then there is the matter of the girl and the boy, brother and sister?"
"I'd bet on it," Jackson replied.
"I'll get Constable Hendon on looking into Duggan. Drake find out all you can about this Blacksmith, arrests, enemies and who he was locked up with. Take a trip into The City to see what you can find. Jackson you and I will go back to the circus," Inspector Reid said.
"Can it wait till tomorrow Reid? Cause by the clock its gone 7pm, high time we all went home," Jackson replied, opening his pocket watch.
"I agree Inspector. Something to kill the pain and bed is what I need," Drake replied stifling a yawn.
"I suppose an early night would do us all some good, bright and early in the morning gentleman," Reid replied massaging his temple.
Grabbing their coats the trio said their good nights as the night turn officers were arriving. Stepping outside the trio saw fireworks illuminate the night sky along with the screech of rockets. The sound of merry laughter drifted through the air. Four children holding sparklers ran passed them laughing with delight
"Oh I'm glad not to be on duty tonight," Drake muttered, turning up his coat collar.
"Have to agree with you there Sargent," Jackson replied heading off home.
A short time later Jackson arrived home to find the house full to bursting with two university rugby teams and the girls in a very happy mood. The lads were a handsome bunch, if a little battered and bruised from the day's match. Curled up in bed with Susan some time later Jackson tentatively broached the subject of Silas Duggan.
"Likely Reid will turn up the stuff on you," Jackson said stroking her hair.
"Duggan is worthy of Reid's attention, I'll gladly help put that man away," Susan replied, a trace of anger in her voice.
"Wish you'd let me help you out of the contract with him."
"I'll find a way. If needs be. There are friends."
"Which friends?"
"Jasper and Larry. Silk could," Susan replied hesitantly.
"Tell Reid what he's doing. Susan is there another part to the contract you haven't told me?" Jackson asked, looking keenly at her.
"There is a way out. A price I can pay," Susan replied softly.
"What price?" Jackson asked, dreading the answer.
"Me," Susan whispered, a look of utter sadness in her emerald eyes.
"GOD DAMN IT NO! No way are you paying that," Jackson shouted, sitting upright. "I'll get you out of it."
"I wish I could believe in that Matthew."
"We can run. Go wherever we want. Vanish in the night."
"Leave all we have built here?"
"I've done it plenty of times. Hong Kong or India. Even back to America. I've a few old friends in New Orleans, San Francisco and an old pal is doing very well in California. Any of them would be more than happy to help us."
"America. I have a friend in the South who never liked my Father, she would help me," Susan replied, her eyes light up.
"Just you and me against the world," Jackson replied, drawing his arms around Susan.