C2: Death upon the web

Arriving at Leman Street Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake found the place buzzing with gossip about the morning murder.

Walking into the Dead Room Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake found the corpses laid on tables. Their personal effects laid beside them. Beside Silas Duggan was; business cards, keys and an expensive pocket watch. The three policemen had; three sets of keys, their badges and gun holders but no guns.

Standing above Silas Duggan was Captain Jackson. The surgeon's hands were inside the man's chest. The apron he wore was covered with blood. On a table were several bloody instruments. Seeing Reid and Drake enter, Jackson looked up from the corpse. Before anyone could speak Chief Inspector Abberline walked through the door.

"Good morning. I have to say few people will be mourn Duggan," Chief Inspector Abberline said, pulling off his gloves.

"We all know Silas Duggan is a nasty piece of work," Inspector Reid replied.

"I've informed Inspector Ressler. As you know Ressler is investigating Duggan in relation to several murders."

"Inspector Abberline these three men killed with him. All policemen from Limehouse. I saw three of Inspector Shine's men in the crowd outside the pub. One of them was Sergeant Mason," Reid said grimly.

"Hells teeth! I need to inform the Commissioner Monro. Do not inform Shine about the death of his men. Do not contact Shine until you have word from me. If you find the slightest evidence connecting Shine to Duggan keep it hidden until we can speak. Shine has to be kept in the dark. He would not be the first inspector to kill his own men to cover up corruption," Abberline snarled pacing the room.

"We have evidence of Duggan's business dealings in Whitechapel. For today we will settle for finding who he was meeting last night and might want him dead," Reid replied firmly.

"Find me suspects and evidence. Swear no one from this shop will set foot in Limehouse," Chief Inspector Abberline said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

"I swear Fred," Edmund said solemnly.

"I swear Chief Inspector," Drake said resolutely.

"I swear. Hope you don't think I'm involved in this," Jackson said, wiping his bloody hands on his apron.

"It is too public for a Pinkerton, your lot prefer a knife in the back at midnight," Chief Inspector Abberline replied, glaring at the American.

"Fred please don't," Edmund said holding up his hands.

"Ah you're right Edmund. I'll speak to the Commissioner. I'll be back tomorrow morning at the latest," Chief Inspector Abberline said walking out.

Leaving the Dead Room, Reid and Drake set about reviewing the files they had on Duggan while Jackson continued is work on the bodies. They need to discover who Duggan was meeting at the pub. They needed a starting point for their investigation. Immersed in their work time slipped without trio noticing.

Putting down his pen Drake stretched as the clock chimed seven. At the exact same time Jackson walked into the room and flopped down onto chair looking exhausted.

"All died from poison. Oenanthe Crocata, Dead man's fingers being one of its common names. Convulsions and a quick death, the choice of professional poisoners. The three policemen were stabbed with a switch blade. Duggan's throat was cut with the barber's razor we found," Jackson said grimily.

"A nasty way to die. Whoever it was knew what they were doing," Reid said.

"You know how this is looking Reid. Shine did it himself or he hired men with the skills needed, he'd certainly know who."

"Jackson let's not be too hasty. The person Duggan met last night has to be the one who ordered the murder. One of Duggan's business associates for instance," Reid replied, leafing through the files.

"At the Drunken Monk? The person Duggan met has to be a criminal," Drake replied, a trace of scorn in his voice.

"I think it is time we had some breakfast, it will allow us to think clearer," Reid said calmly.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Some pancakes with maple syrup would go down a treat," Jackson said, placing his boots up on a desk.

"Pancakes?" Drake asked puzzled.

"Perfect food for starving men. How about it, you boys up for trying some?"

"Will we get good food and a good helping?" Drake asked in a sceptical tone.

"So good you'll not want to eat till tonight," Jackson replied, leaping to his feet.

"Well I've had some funny things in my time," Drake replied smiling.

"Breakfast sounds a good idea. We can pay a call to the private members club Duggan owns afterwards," Reid said holding out a piece of paper.

On it were the addresses of Duggan's business in Whitechapel. Circled in red was that of a private members club. Reid and Drake had visited the club a month previously when they had questioned Duggan about the murders of two men he had employed. Duggan had a private office at the club. Just the sort of place to find evidence of business dealings.

"Good place to start. But we need breakfast first," Jackson said glaring at Reid.

"I agree with you Jackson, early morning calls are never pleasant," Reid grimaced. _

Leaving the police station Jackson led them the Aunt Mabel's, a bustling café and bakery that served classic American food. Aunt Mabel was a handsome women in her mid-forties with a jovial face and quick wit that delighted the patrons. Seeing them enter Mabel left her place behind the counter, she and Jackson greeting one another like old friends.

"Aunt Mabel allow me to introduce Inspector Edmund Reid and Sergeant Bennet Drake," Jackson said politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet two of Whitechapel's finest policemen. Please allow me to escort you to our best table," Mabel replied smiling.

"A pleasure to meet you Mrs," Drake replied.

"Please call me Aunt Mabel."

"Good morning Aunt Mabel," Reid replied as warmth sunk into his bones.

With a small bow Mabel led them up a cosy table at the back of the café. There were two or three empty tables but most were full. On the tables were copies of various American newspapers. Sitting down Jackson ordered three portions of House Special Pancakes and three pots of coffee.

While they waited they soaked up the warmth and relaxed while drinking their coffee. Seeing a copy of the New York Times, Jackson picked it up, curious to find out what was going on at home. He was just reading over the sports page when breakfast arrived.

"Bloody Hell!" Drake exclaimed staring at the food.

In front of them were three plates of thick pancakes, topped with sausages, bacon and maple syrup. Drake and Reid's eyes were on storks at the size of the portion. Putting down his paper Jackson chuckled. Picking up their knives and forks all three began to eat. The food tasted divine. Smiles appeared on all three faces.

"What do you think?" Jackson replied, placing pancake and sausage onto his fork.

"Cracking food Jackson, best breakfast I've had in while," Drake chuckled.

"Very good food Captain, not sure it beats a Full English though," Reid replied raising an eyebrow.

"We'll have to disagree there," Jackson chuckled, pouring himself more coffee. _

Once breakfast had been eaten the trio left Aunt Mabel's feeling a lot better than when they had arrived. In the pale sunlight they walked through Whitechapel to the private members club owned by Silas Duggan.

Arriving at the club they forced their way into the building. Outside the building opposite was a handsome cab and a delivery cart. The trio failed to notice both. They did not see the occupant of the handsome smile, a man with red/brown hair and dark blue eyes. On his lapel was the symbol of a red drake over an anchor. They did not see the delivery cart move down the alley next to the club.

Inside the club the trio searched the ground floor like phantoms. Suddenly they stopped. From above they could hear footsteps and the sound of furniture moving. Hardly daring to breath they crept up the stairs. The smell of burning paper drifting through the air. At Duggan's office they stopped. Taking a deep breath they opened the door. Perched on the edge of an open window was a young man dressed in a police uniform. In the fireplace documents were crackling in the flames.

"You have turned up earlier than expected. My masters needed me to destroy some documents they didn't want you to find," the boy said, his accent a mixture of poor mingled with a hint of middle class.

"Easy lad, no need to do anything rash. What's your name?" Drake asked, holding up his hands.

"Constable James Fenn. My masters threatened to kill my Mam unless I did this," James said, genuine regret in his voice.

"James we can protect you both. If you help us we will provide you both with a new life, somewhere your masters will not find you. You have my word," Reid said, his tone sincere and gentle.

"My masters have a long range. I wouldn't last long. My masters have abused their positions for their own ends," the boy said jumping out of the window.

Drake raced to the window while Reid and Jackson ran the fire, using tongs to salvage the burning documents. Leaning out of the window Drake had a brief glimpse of James laying in the delivery cart. As the cart departed the alley Drake snarled. Slamming the window shut Drake turned to Reid and Jackson, both of whom were laying the burnt paper on the table.

"James knew what he was doing. These have been smothered with oil to make them burn quicker," Jackson said, using tongs to pick up the smouldering remains.

"These are burnt beyond reading," Reid said looking at the remains.

"James said his masters doesn't want us to find the documents. I'd bet they show the masters are involved in illegal business dealings," Jackson said grimly.

"Perhaps they showed who Duggan was meeting last night. Let us hope James has missed some," Reid said.

Without a word they began to explore Duggan's office, gathering up the papers, books and files littering the floor. The documents detailed business Duggan was involved in, shares he held in various companies, list of people who owned him debts and there were several business contracts. Lifting documents out of Duggan's desk Jackson stopped, feeling along the wood his hand went through a small hole. Lifting the wood up Jackson placed it on the floor. The draw had a false bottom. Inside the hidden draw was a strong, locket metal box but no key.

"Reid look at this," Jackson called.

"Interesting. We need to get this back to Leman Street," Reid replied, looking down at the box.

Gathering up the documents they placed them in strong bags they had brought for the purpose. Taking a candle each they tore through the club. Every room was turned over. Cards were laid out, bottles of alcohol and drink stood on tables but there was nothing illegal.

The trio were grim as they left the club. Under the cold sun they walked back to Leman Street carrying the bags of evidence. _

Arriving back at Leman Street Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson began the long process of making sense of the documents. There was plenty of information about Duggan's business in Limehouse, the City and Whitechapel. His holdings in the City were considerably less compared to those in Whitechapel and Limehouse.

"THAT BASTARD!" Jackson swore, gazing at the piece of paper in front of him.

In his hand was the contract between Silas Duggan and Susan Hart. In stark black and white were the terms. Jackson's blood boiled as he read that her debt would be written off if she slept with him.

"It's a bloody good job he's dead," Jackson snarled.

"Jackson the past cannot be changed. Get that locked box open. The key must be part of the set you found on him," Reid said.

With a face like thunder Jackson stormed out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time he walked into the Dead Room. From the pile of Duggan's possessions he picked up Duggan's keys. For a moment he scrutinized the pile. There was no diary among Duggan's possessions. Walking back up the stairs Jackson returned to his seat. For a while he tried every key. Then with a snap that made every one jump the box opened.

"Christ!" Jackson said, letting out a low whistle.

Piles of bound bank notes, three jewelled necklaces and an uncut sapphire stared up at him. Gently he placed them on the table, both Reid and Drake gazing in amazement at what they were seeing. At the bottom of the box was a black book. Curiously Jackson opened it. Inside was a list of members for the club Duggan owned in Whitechapel. The same club Reid, Drake and Jackson had visited. All the men listed as members lived on Corporation land.

"Mr Keaton were murdered on City land by Duggan's men. Inspector Ressler believed Mr Keaton knew Duggan," Reid said, circling the name Mr Keaton Senior.

At the same time Reid drew a set of files from his desk draw. Files that had been given to him by Inspector Ressler. The files provided information on murders of City men by known employees of Silas Duggan.

"Mr Keaton's son is a member of the club too," Jackson said, drawing a line under the name Mr Keaton Junior.

"This man Mr Osbert, he worked for the Bank of England. He was killed alongside his wife by The Blacksmith," Reid said, circling a third name.

"The evidence Inspector Ressler gathered suggested Duggan ordered The Blacksmith to murder of Osbert Senior and his wife."

"The Blacksmith was killed last month alongside Duggan's accountant Walter Halfpenny," Jackson said, remembering the case they had investigated a month previously.

"Look at that, Osbert's son is also a member of the club," Drake said, finding the name Mr Osbert Junior underneath that at of Mr Osbert Senior.

"Interesting," Reid contemplated, looking at the evidence in front of him.

"We haven't found Duggan's diary," Jackson said.

"A diary is something all businessmen carry with them. Stolen to prevent us discovering who Duggan was meeting?" Reid asked.

"That's a bet even I'd make Inspector. That combined with destroying documents prevents us discovering who Duggan was meeting," Drake said.

"And the person who killed him," Jackson finished.

"We have our first suspects; Mr Osbert Junior and Mr Keaton Junior. Both know Silas Duggan. The fact Duggan murdered their fathers provides their motive," Reid replied leaning back in his chair.

"No businessman would go to that pub," Sergeant Drake said scornfully.

"They could easily have hired people to kill Duggan for them," Reid said.

"Three dead policemen were found besides Duggan," Jackson said.

Before another word could be said PC Wainwright appeared, handing Inspector Reid a letter that had been hand delivered. Opening the letter Reid found it was from Duggan's lawyer. Duggan's lawyer was requesting Reid's presence the next day at the reading of Duggan's will. The lawyer's office was on Corporation land.

"Let us hope the lawyer has some useful information," Reid said, sharing the letter's content with Drake and Jackson.

Without a word they placed the evidence inside the safe in Reid's office. Leaving his office Reid sent a telegram to Chief Inspector Abberline to inform him of the lawyer's letter.

Re-entering his office Reid realized Detective Sergeant Flight had not been seen all day. In the chaos his presence or lack thereof had been overlooked.

"Should we send someone to find him?" Drake asked, also surprised by the absence.

"There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Given him till tomorrow, he may simply be ill," Reid replied calmly.

"Reid we've hit a wall here. Any chance we can go home?" Jackson asked breaking the tension.

"I second that," Drake yawned.

"Call a full house," Reid said, rubbing his tired eyes. "Home for all three of us."

Staggering through his front door a short time later, Jackson pulled Susan into his arms to moment he saw her. Once inside the privacy of their bedroom Susan turned to face him, a look of terror on her face.

"What happen?" Susan whispered.

"Poison then cut up like a pig, Duggan and three men," Jackson said, wrapping his arms around her.

"Does Reid think we are involved?"

"Reid knows we are not capable of what happened today."

"Thank God," Susan replied, visibly relaxing.

"We found your contract among papers in Duggan's office."

"That deal with Duggan was the worst mistake of my like. I should have found a different way."

"You did what you had too. Susan nothing bad will happen, his death makes you free," Jackson said kissing her.

"The new owner could demand the same," Susan replied sadly.

"You won't every do that. Several lawyers are clients of yours, I'm sure they would help," Jackson said smiling.

"I do know four judges and five barristers."

"Forget about all that for tonight. Our enemies are dead. We can go anywhere we like, even back to American."

"Help me forget. After Rain….those nights we spent together were magical. I should never have been angry that first night. Matthew I love you."

"Caitlin…..the thought of losing you…..I couldn't bear it. I love you," Matthew said kissing her.

At one of the many London docks, a beautiful Indian women holding a baby boarded a boat. On the deck she walked over an Indian man, a pretty English women and a child of two. To one side of the group stood a young Englishman. Both men bore bandages on their arms, black eyes and swollen lips. On the dockside stood two a smartly dressed men. One was leaning on a cane topped with a gold tiger's head that had ruby eyes. Beside him stood a man with red/ brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a pin bearing the symbol of a drake on top of an anchor on his lapel. In the silence of the night the boat sailed down the River Thames. Once the boat had sailed out of sight the men climbed silently into a waiting carriage. Within moments the carriage faded into the black night utterly unmarked by the dock workers.