Jack - detective (Victorian era Slang)
We went to a shopping arcade half an hour of walk from the station. Even though the buildings looked old and forlorn, it was tidy, decorated with flowers in every corner. Knife grinders, blacksmiths, woodworkers, seamstresses and many other craftsmen were in that little street. Somewhere in the middle of it, stood a little shop. No flowers decorated it, and on the simple door was a simple sign, "A shoe just for you". Holmes and I stopped, went to the door, and opened it.
Inside stood Robert Parish, working on a shoe intensively. He didn't even notice us.
"You'll lose clients if you don't even notice them entering." Holmes remarked.
Now, he finally stopped working and was looking at us. He didn't seem any better than he was in our apartment. He put his scissors and ruler down. He sat on a chair and pointed another two chairs. As I sat on the chair, I looked around. It wasn't just the front of the shop which wasn't so pleasant to the eye, but also its inner part. The walls were gray without anything to add some color. The furniture was very simple, all made of wood.
"Well, it seemed like you didn't renovated your little shop since I came here last time." It was Holmes who broke the silence.
"The economic isn't any better." Parish replied.
"Well, we talked with your son, and wanted to ask you few questions." Holmes got straight to the point. "Edgar mentioned his necklace had a ruby gem. He said your late wife came from a rich family, but you don't tell him from which one. So, can you tell us about her a little as well as how you met?"
"My wife was born with the name Jane Williams. I was her family's stable boy. Jane came to the stables a lot. She liked to ride the horses. I couldn't but fall in love with her." He answered as he lowered his head.
"And, how come a stable boy married his mistress?" Holmes said while leaning his hand on his thighs.
"Her house burst into flames. She rode her horse and I was with her, like usual, to keep her from harm. When we came back, we found what happened. I don't know why, but I'm pretty sure someone set it on fire." He said it hysterically, as though he went through it again.
"How are you so sure? You weren't there." I asked as it was obvious he knew something beforehand, but for some reason, didn't mention it.
"I heard heard lord Williams talking about someone gaining his fortune if he died along with his whole family."
"So, what did you do?" Holmes asked.
"I told Jane it's better to get rid off her sure name, cause they may found she is still alive. I decided to use this opportunity and ask her hand. A year later, Edgar was born."
"Back to the main topic." Holmes straightened up in his chair. "Did you know your son is a part of a scuttling gang?"
"I did, it's pretty common here. I tried convincing him to quit more than once, but he said it's important to him. That it's keeping him alive." Parish looked a bit calmer than before, but still uncomfortable and stiff.
"Edgar didn't seem so violent to join a gang." Holmes remarked.
"This is why I was so surprised to hear about it. In fact, Edgar didn't tell me himself, I heard from his friends. It doesn't suit his nature. I don't say, he used to be hyperactive as a child, but never violent. So I was even more surprised to hear he became the leader's gang in order to be known as someone you shouldn't get too close to. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe he isn't as he used to be. " As he said the last sentence, Parish had bitter and worried expression on his face.
"Why is it so important for him to have such an image?" Holmes asked.
"I don't know, he doesn't want to tell." Parish said hopelessly. "Maybe something about wanting to prove himself being a man."
"Thank you, Robert, we shall meet again." Holmes said while standing up.
I also stood on my feet. I tip my hat off to him, and both Holmes and I left the little shop.
"Up until I know, I didn't have any clues except for the tobacco which can be a total coincidence, but now I think I'm closer to prove the little lad's innocence, but on the other hand, I'm afraid Alois Walker wasn't meant to be the victim." Holmes said with a grave tone.
"If it's not young Parish who killed him, it's probable it was a thief who took a step too far. I won't be surprised if someone saw the gem and wanted it to himself. It doesn't mean he had intent to kill him from the start."
"I must say I prefer your version, but right now, we should check out the other option."
Just when I was about to ask Holmes what did he mean, a lad approached us. He looked around 18, clothed with simple sooty clothes. His curly red hair popped up under his hat and his hazel eyes seemed tired, He was a bit taller than usual, but despite being skinny, his muscles were visible.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, do you know how to get to the police station?" He asked
"It's surprising for a scuttler not to know where to police station is." Holmes answered.
"How did you know…" The lad started to ask.
"First of all, your clothes and your age. It's pretty easy to see you were hit, as well as your friends who stand over there." Holmes said as he pointed the direction where other two lads stood. "Are you Edgar Parish's friends?"
"We are. I am Thomas Flynn. And my friends there are León Rosales and Adam Archer,"
"We ourselves are going there. We would be glad to company you." Holmes smiled.
Flynn called his friends, and we all started to go together towards the station. As we walked, I couldn't stop wondering about Holmes' words. Five minutes' walk from the station, we stopped at one of the squares. Holmes sat on one of the benches
"I'm tired." He sighed as to show exhaustion, but I couldn't believe him. Holmes was just 31 at the time, and he had great physical fitness for his not so old age.
The three lads stared at each other. It seemed like they wanted to say something. But before they could say anything, Holmes started to talk:
"If we are already resting, I would like to ask you few questions." While saying that, he didn't seem tired at all. "How long do you know Edgar Parish?"
"Why you ask?" The dark skinned Spanish boy with brown eyes and hair, León Rosales, asked him.
"I'm sure you want to see him out." Holmes said calmly.
"But who said you're gonna help him?" asked the third lad, Adam Archer, a lad shorter than average, with blonde hair and blue eyes that would make him quiet handsome if not for all his bruises and filthy clothes.
"We are here to investigate if your friend is really innocent." Holmes answered.
"We found 'em next to Edgar's working place. I heard Edgar's old man went to find a jack." Flynn was the one to talk. "You're jacks, right?"
"I'm enough of a jack to see clearly that you are Blacksmith's helper, the Spanish boy, probably León, is newsboy, while the third is a woodworker."
The three lads stared at him, stunned.
"How did you know?" Archer was the first to break the silence.
"Piece of cake. You have sawdust on your clothes, Flynn's clothes are sooty, but not enough for him to be a full time blacksmith and the last one of you has black hands from ink." Now Holmes seemed extra energetic with his mischievous smile. "Now, can you answer my questions?"
The three looked at each other and then sat on the floor
"The three of you are scuttlers. Are you all from The Tigers?"
They lads nodded.
"When did you join?"
"The three of us joined togather 4 years ago." Rosales answered "It was even before Edgar's arrival."
"Can you tell me what happened last night?" Holmes said as he leaned back.
"We had a fight with The Crows." Flynn started "All we know that suddenly one of their members, Alois Walker, as we found out later, ran away from there and Edgar went to chase him."
"You waited there for a while, according to Edgar. Anything worth mentioning?" Holmes continued to ask.
"Around 10:30 pm, half an hour before they came, people came out of the music hall." Archer said. "And suddenly we noticed a man going out to the opposite direction than all the others. You see, when Edgar noticed him, he tried to hide from him. When I tried to ask him what happened he hushed me. After we told him went away, he still refused to tell us anything."
At that moment, I started to understand what Holmes meant. It wasn't improbable that the original victim is the one we met not so long ago behind the bars.