CHAPTER THREE

The shouting had been going on all morning. It had begun before Hobbs had left to visit his mother and was still going when he returned. There, he found Inspector Reid in the parlour, accompanied by a well-dressed young man with keen eyes. His manner gave him away – this must be the new man Jackson had spoken of, Constable Flight, the one foisted on the Inspector by Chief Inspector Aberline. Something squeezed Hobbs' guts and he was very aware of his own rough stained trousers and shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his jacket a dark unassuming green. Lillian rose to meet him as he entered, leaning close to whisper coyly in his ear.

"See if he has interests after."

Hobbs coloured, though not as deeply as he once would have done. He was getting used to the girls' blunt manners and how much they liked to tease him. Lottie winked at him as he passed and all the girls greeted him as he made his way through. He doffed his bowler at Reid.

"Apologies, sir. You've not been waiting long?"

Reid looked tight around the eyes though he managed a sort of smile. "Only moments. How goes your day, Hobbs?"

"Exhausting, sir, but it excites too. I hope what I heard can aid you, sir."

Hobbs handed over a small notebook and Reid nodded, tucking it away inside his jacket. His companion stayed silent, watching intently. Oddly Reid did not see fit to introduce the man – was Flight not to be trusted yet? Or was he being punished for some infraction? Whatever the reason, Hobbs would not step forward until called to do so. He nodded at Flight and continued talking to the Inspector.

"The girls are amenable, sir, to receive messages on my behalf. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, I fear this day has been a thirsty one."

Hobbs nodded to Caroline who disappeared quickly to make up a pot. He didn't sit himself, it felt too strange a thing to be seated in the Inspector's presence. Something was hurled and smashed in the room next door. Hobbs winced; from the shouting, Jackson had just discovered that Duggan's name was upon Miss Hart's business. How was it that Captain Jackson had not known such a thing until now? The fight was indeed a rousing one.

"Does Captain Jackson continue with plans to leave London?" Reid asked.

Hobbs was startled into silence for a few paltry seconds, but of course the Inspector knew of Jackson's thoughts for the future. He could so often discern what people kept purposefully hidden, and he seemed so unsurprised at the noise that Miss Hart and the Captain were currently causing, perhaps he had overheard an argument such as this before, about Jackson's future plans. No doubt it displeased him; he daily relied on Jackson greatly for his expertise.

Hobbs pressed his lips together, keeping silent his own stab of pain. "I fear that something else has caught his ear now, sir."

Before Reid could comment, the door was flung open and Jackson stormed out. He came to an abrupt halt when he spied his colleagues.

"Reid, this had better be the unholiest of emergencies..."

Caroline appeared quietly with a tray of cups and saucers, which she quickly deposited before exiting. Hobbs made sure to smile her way, wanting her to know how grateful he was. Flight drank his tea quickly, as though unsure when he would next have such a comfort. Captain Jackson had said that the man was eager.

Hobbs turned back the conversation in time to hear Inspector Reid speak "...and our trail leads us to the river and recent unlikely drownings. I have need of your medical mind."

The Captain's gaze skittered to Hobbs for a precious moment. Yes, talk of drownings did set Hobbs' heart running and he clenched a fist to stop himself from shaking. He still dreamt of water above his head, stinging his eyes, filling his lungs.

Jackson pulled on a jacket and nodded, sending a scathing look back towards Miss Hart's parlour. "I'll drown myself before this night is through."

He paused as he made to pass Hobbs, his closeness causing Hobbs' heart to calm somewhat. "Or maybe we'll both fight off the ferryman yet."

Hobbs managed a smile at that, for the Captain was still thinking of a future featuring them both. But for how long? How long would London hold him? Did Jackson feel like a caged animal? The Captain headed for the door, Reid and Flight close behind as they bid Hobbs good day. Flight eyed him for a moment before leaving, Hobbs' skin prickled.

Caroline reappeared to take possession of the crockery. "Lil has the wrong side of it. The boy has an eye for your type, Dick, make no mistake."

Hobbs' brow puckered and he shook his head. Flight's desires were not his concern, it just burrowed under his skin to see his former position filled. But Jackson did make frequent mention of the fact that they needed more men at H Division, that riots were all too regular now. So long as Flight proved honourable, he could desire as he wished. Hobbs would hardly object.

He rescued a cup and saucer from Caroline and ventured carefully into Miss Hart's parlour. She looked tight with fury and something distressingly like despair. Did she want to be alone? She had spent the grip of the day arguing with Captain Jackson, perhaps solitude and quiet was what she needed now. Only she did not tell him to leave and she was never shy of doing so before. So he placed the cup and saucer at her elbow and sat beside her, silent and waiting.

"You have an opinion on this?" she spoke at last, sharp and defiant.

Hobbs wet his lips; he did not want to add to her dour mood. "I think that Duggan is dangerous, miss. And that he takes pleasure in his tenants' misfortunes."

"And now he adds to them." There was a crack in Miss Hart's voice. "A deplorable increase in rent."

Hobbs swallowed his own anger and horror, Miss Hart was displaying enough for both of them. "I don't have a solution, miss, though I wish I did. He could take time with the girls, as payment? It's been known from him before."

"If it were only that simple..."

Miss Hart silenced herself then and reached for her cup. There was a fine tremble to her hand that caused Hobbs to stare and worry. Duggan must have asked a terrible price. Worry lay on both their shoulders now, neither able to find word or gesture to shift it.