Chapter 4 – Turning Tables, The Police get involved and the Raids continue.
Jenny remembered something Madame Vastra had told her. 'Be Bold. Look strong, even if you don't feel it. You don't cower, and that is very good. If you look weak you're more likely to be attacked.' Jenny took a deep breath, let it out, and went to the front door. Time to go and face the young tough. If he wanted a fight, she'd give him one.
There was just one problem. She didn't want to turn around while she locked the door, but she'd need to look back to put the key in the lock. She took a moment to think. Unless… yes that should work.
Jenny opened the front door of the Gin Palace, inserted her key in the keyhole while the door was open, and then boldly walked through. She pulled the door shut behind her, still facing the street. She fumbled a bit, trying to find the key behind her back without looking, but finally grabbed it, twisted the key and heard the latch click home, while she casually glanced up and down the street. Done, and she didn't need to turn her back to the bully boy. Madame Vastra would be pleased. Jenny decided she'd practice that move again later, until it looked nice and natural.
With a passing glance she saw the youth was startled, but she ignored him. She started off at a fast walk east on Cheapside, heading towards Threadneedle Street.
A block behind her, she could hear the bells of St. Mary Le Bow Church start ringing Noon. Perfect. She'd just need another minute or so. She moved briskly, but didn't run. Not yet.
Jenny kept moving, listening behind her, watching ahead. The street began to fill up quickly, as the local sewing factories and other concerns emptied out for lunch break. Jenny's old workplace, the match factory, had done this too. The workers were turned out into the street for an hour each day to air out the workrooms. It could be annoying to the workers in poor weather, but today the lunch time crowd might make it possible for Jenny to disappear in plain sight. Lots of adults made for more cover to hide behind, but she'd stand out like a sore thumb if she ran. She dodged a little between people, trying to keep clumps of them behind her. She made it across King Street, and Old Jewry. Cheapside narrowed into Poultry here, but it was only a few short blocks to the hub where seven streets ran together at Mansion House, including Threadneedle Street. The Bank of England wasn't far.
Suddenly, behind her she heard a young man shout. "Stop, Thief! Stop that girl." Bloody bastard, calling her a thief!
Oh wait… he was right. Hopefully he just didn't know it.
Jenny kept moving at the same pace. 'Don't panic. Look around; act confused, like it's not you he's shouting at.' She'd learned some interesting lessons in the two months she'd lived on the streets, and now was a good time to use them.
At the corner of Poultry and Mansion House Street her luck ran out. A police constable appeared in front of her, and as Jenny moved around him, he caught her shoulder.
"What's all this then?"
"Here, let me go! I'm on an errand for my mistress!"
"Heard someone call 'Stop that girl.'"
"There's lots of girls here! Whoever it was said 'Stop thief' too. I haven't nicked anything!" Well, not today, thought Jenny.
"You're the one who looks like a ruffian." Jenny realized that she was still dressed in the worn old things she wore for cleaning the Gin Palace. These were the rags she was wearing when Madame rescued her; they still had some use in them. But blast! She must look a sight!
The constable looked over her head, back into the swirling crowd. Jenny risked a glance back as well, and saw the youth hanging back, suddenly wary of the constable.
Why? Oh, right! If someone else had grabbed her, he'd have made up a story, but a real policeman?
Jenny could finger him for trying to rob Mr Thackeray!
Hmmm.
But if she tried that now, before he put himself forward as the one who called out, it would be his word against hers. And she didn't trust the constable to decide in favour of an untidy young maid. Stick near the truth.
"I'm going to the Bank to deliver a message," explained Jenny, nodding at the building, so near and yet so far away. "Madame Vastra wanted it done right quick, I couldn't even change! Come with me if you want, won't take long. Just need to see the Manager or the Director."
The constable surveyed the street again, and then nodded. "Think I'll do just that. And if you're telling tales, it'll be the worse for you!"
'Lovely,' thought Jenny. 'Why do I always get the grouchy constables?'
Mr Dawes looked up as the porter ushered a scruffy young girl and a police constable into his office. He blinked in surprise as the girl dropped an awkward curtsey and he recognized Madame Vastra's maid.
"Good afternoon Mr Dawes. Sorry to present meself all in my dirt."
"Hello Jenny. Nice to see you again. Who's your new friend?" Dawes flicked his gaze at the constable, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
"Not sure, sir. We haven't been properly introduced yet. He sort of followed me here."
"I'm Constable Palmer of the London Police, sir. I apprehended this girl in the street outside, sir. Someone called for me to stop the thief. But the girl said she hadn't stolen anything, and had a message for you from her mistress, sir."
Dawes looked back at Jenny, who explained that she'd seen the youth who'd tried rob Mr Thackeray while cleaning, was worried about the location of his partner, and had decided to make use of the lunchtime crowd to nip over to the bank, and let Mr Dawes know she'd seen them as he'd asked, if you please sir. Dawes soon understood that Jenny guessed the youth had raised the hue and cry to try to get hold of her.
Dawes nodded in satisfaction; Jenny was still in her working clothes and flustered by her ordeal. That explained her untidy appearance. She'd been lucky to make it this far with the toughs on the hunt for her.
"I didn't see any such persons, sir." interjected the constable.
Dawes eyed him for a long moment, until the man started to squirm slightly. "Did you know who to look for, Constable?"
"No sir, I was…"
"…Busy apprehending an innocent girl. Did you ask who might be accusing her?"
"No sir."
"Well then, you could not have seen them. So let us go have a look for them. Now."
Dawes rose from behind his desk, and led them to the massive balcony overlooking the front entrance. Jenny surveyed the busy intersection below, and soon exclaimed, "There sir! By the statue of Wellington, the young man with fair hair, blue jacket and cap; and the tall man beside him with the battered top hat and brown coat."
Dawes nodded, and glanced at the constable. "Perhaps you should go and have a closer look? In case you need to recognize them in the future." His voice, though not harsh or raised at all, made it clear that he was not simply making a friendly suggestion. Rupert Dawes was the man who commanded the Bank of England, from the lowest messenger boy to the powerful men of the Board of Directors. Only the Governor and Deputy Governor were senior to Dawes. Police constables simply weren't in the same league.
Unsurprisingly, the constable gave a crisp nod, and left.
Dawes waited with Jenny and watched. He was slightly surprised to see that Jenny had stepped back from the rail, and was now watching the men through the slats in the railing. He realized she could still see the men, but they would have a hard time seeing her. Interesting. Was this natural canniness, wondered Dawes, or was this learned behaviour? And if it was the latter, how had the young girl learned it?
Several minutes later, Constable Palmer strolled around the east corner of the Bank from Bartholomew Lane onto Threadneedle Street. Dawes had to give him credit; the man was acting like a police officer on patrol; interested and observing but not barrelling towards the toughs and scarring them off. Palmer must have gone out of the bank through the eastern entrance. While the two toughs soon spotted him, they couldn't tell that he was the same policeman they'd watched go into the Bank earlier. Palmer was able to spend some time in the area and left before the two men became spooked. He'd approached them fairly closely, and Dawes hoped he'd had a good look at them.
Jenny glanced over at Mr Dawes as Constable Palmer left the street. "Best I get back, sir, if you please. Is there another door I could take?"
"There is." He summoned a nearby clerk, and directed him to take Jenny down to the Prince's Street entrance on the west side of the building so she wouldn't need to cross in front of the toughs while returning home. Jenny gave him another curtsey, thanked him for his help, and departed. Dawes smiled; it had been a near run, but the girl had done the smart thing, coming to the bank, and letting him know that the men who'd tried to steal the Sherwin and Soames ledgers were around. Those ledgers still bothered him, and he'd cautioned the manager at Sherwin's to be vigilant about getting to the bottom of the matter. Records were ending up in the day books and ledgers that the Manager said weren't right, but he couldn't put his finger on who was creating the entries. The amounts weren't large, but they were frequent. Worse, it was difficult to sort out which entries were real, and which incorrect. They'd only found the problem when a customer brought in his passbook for updating.
Dawes shook his head. In the meanwhile, the robbery at Wilmott's was worrying. Their ledgers had been stolen, along with cash and notes, and while the bank would be able to operate quietly for few weeks as long as word didn't leak out and create a run on the bank, they needed those books back! Dawes wished they had some idea if the two incidents were connected. Toughs after one set of ledgers and thieves who took another was far too close a coincidence for his liking.
Dawes shook his head, and picked up his pen. First things first: it was time to ask the police to keep a watchful eye on the Gin Palace. He'd be unhappy to see Jenny or Madame Vastra hurt over this mess.
Jenny left the bank, and followed Prince's Street back to Threadneedle. Peeking around the corner, she saw the two toughs watching the main entrance of the bank from the statue of Wellington. They looked bored and restless. Jenny watched for a moment. If they got fed up, maybe they'd leave. And if she followed them, maybe she could learn who'd sent them to beat up poor Mr Thackeray.
Keeping her face turned away, Jenny crossed the streets, circling around until she got to the Mansion House, behind the men. She bought a paper from a newsboy, and an apple from a costermonger, leaned on the fence at the mouth of the alley beside the Mansion House, and settled in to wait. Between eating the apple and glancing at the newspaper, she'd be able to keep her face hid from any casual look from the toughs. If she was lucky, she wouldn't need to wait too long.
Sure enough, within about twenty minutes, judging by the church bells, the man and youth gave up. After a bit of arguing, they headed east along Cornhill, just south of the Royal Exchange. Jenny followed them, amused that she'd turned the tables and was now stalking them, but when they reached the crossroads where Cornhill turned into Leadenhall Street, she hesitated.
Madame had said not to go past here, where Bishopsgate to the north and Grace Church to the south ran together, but the men were still walking east. Jenny restlessly paced back and forth a few moments trying to choose. Go back? Stay here? Blast!.
Finally, as the men were almost out of sight, Jenny threw caution to the wind and followed them. She'd catch it when she got back to the flat, but with luck she'd have enough details to be worth it. Madame hadn't really lost her temper yet. Maybe Vastra wouldn't hit her too bad for breaking her word.
Jenny followed the pair for almost half an hour, to a run-down building near New Shadwell Basin, tucked in just behind St. George in the East church. Her Da had worked at all the docks near here, so she knew the area a little from running errands. Her work clothes were a godsend here, the worn and patched cloth allowing her to blend into with the workers and poor folks in the streets. 'Course she also ran the risk of being spotted by her Da, if he wandered this way. On t'other hand though the Scorpions were likely still hoping to catch her, it had been weeks since she was last in the area. Maybe they'd stopped looking very hard.
The building had a rickety staircase outside, leading to the first floor above street level, and the men took that. Jenny thought about her notes, and was sure she remembered Madame Vastra mentioning the place.
From where she watched, Jenny could also see a steep set of stairs heading below ground level. From time to time, some poor wretch would stumble up or down the stairs, and a haze of brown smoke would appear when the door was opened.
"An Opium Den!" whispered Jenny.
She'd heard rumours that the Scorpions owned this den. Madame Vastra mostly likely hadn't recognized the smoke. Didn't seem like her cup of tea, and she wouldn't have heard the stories that Jenny had while on the streets. But the man and boy didn't act like opium eaters; Jenny guessed that they may be meeting someone.
She decided to head back to the Gin Palace, report to Madame and take her lumps. The longer she stayed in the area, the greater the chance of being caught.
Madame Vastra was just returning to the flat as Jenny arrived, and heard her story in thunderous silence. "Do I understand that you deliberately disobeyed my instructions?"
Jenny's only reply was a quiet, "Yes ma'am."
"Remain here," Madame commanded, "and Do Not leave this room. We will discuss this in detail when I return." She hurried from the flat, and Jenny was left to wait.
Jenny sighed. That had gone better than she'd hoped. But she had no doubt that she'd be right sore by the end of the night. She decided that she'd best spend the time updating her notes and practicing her knife work. And maybe seeing about cooking something for dinner, as she'd missed lunch except for the apple.
Vastra returned late in the afternoon. She took the only chair in the flat, and seated herself with stern formality. She then bent an unyielding gaze at Jenny, who glanced briefly at the spot on the bed where she often sat for lessons, then straightened her back, head and eyes up and forward.
"Start from the beginning." Vastra said in a low, even voice. "Tell me what happened today, and explain your reasons for your actions." She let Jenny re-tell the tale, from seeing the young tough outside the Gin Palace, and creating a plan, through the visit to Mr Dawes with Constable Palmer, and then tracking the toughs to the house on New Court, including her open acknowledgement that she'd chosen to go against Vastra's instructions, as she'd hoped that what she learned would outweigh her punishment.
And now that word was out in the open. Vastra could see Jenny bracing herself, and realized that Jenny was expecting a beating for her disobedience.
The thought did nothing to improve Vastra's opinion of humans. She scowled at Jenny, hating to be lumped in with such barbarism, but understanding the hatchling's fears.
"You understand you broke your promise to me?"
"Yes ma'am"
"And you understand that you will be punished for that?"
"Yes ma'am."
Vastra cocked her head. "You're taking this rather calmly."
"Ma use to say: 'Take a telling when you're told.'" Jenny shrugged. "I knew what I was doing. I'm not going to be a little baby and try to whinge my way out of it."
Vastra frowned. "I'm not your mother."
"No Ma'am. You are a lady, and you are a lizard, and you are definitely NOT my mother."
Vastra couldn't quite decide if she should be flattered, insulted or relieved.
Jenny listened carefully to Madame Vastra, and told her story honestly. Just as she'd felt the morning after she'd been rescued, Madame's eyes although scolding were calming and strangely familiar. Not 'familiar' as in Jenny had known her for the last three months, but rather with a bone-deep knowledge that here was refuge and strangely…warmth, despite all evidence that Madame Vastra was anything but safe or warm. But Jenny was damned if she could remember why she felt that way.
Jenny shook her head slightly, clearing her confusing thoughts, and continued. "When I followed those toughs, I had to choose. Knew it might be dangerous. But ma'am, we've robbed a bank, and will rob another two nights from now. You can't tell me that's safer than what I did today?"
"No, I can not. What is your point?"
"Point is, ma'am," Jenny continued gently, "You can't protect me forever. The toughs were going somewhere, and one of us had to follow them. This time, that was me."
"But I can protect you for now. IF you keep your word." Vastra eyed Jenny sternly. "Very well. You made your choice to obtain information in exchange for accepting a penalty. What would your family decree as punishment for breaking a promise if you were still living at home?"
Da would box my ears, thought Jenny. No doubt about that. But then it would be over and done. Ma however, would do worse:
"Take away things I like for a while. So stay in the room tonight, no going downstairs and enjoying the evening breeze. Work on the mending or cleaning…" Jenny glanced at the hob, where a small pot of pigeon stew was simmering, and sighed, "…no supper. And no lesson." And let me know she was damn disappointed in me. That always hurts the worst.
Madame nodded. "Very well. No supper. Work on your chores. Stay in the room until bedtime." Then she smirked slightly, "However unless you choose to withdraw forever, your lesson is not optional. I'll try to think of something suitably gruelling."
"Now," continued Madame Vastra, "I'll tell you what happened after I left. Get your notebook and pen. Then sit."
In that moment, Jenny knew that Madame understood WHY Jenny has chosen as she did. And for that, Jenny would take any punishment she decreed.
Vastra admitted to herself that Jenny's gamble had paid off; she now had a very interesting piece of information.
"I returned to the building where you'd left the men, found a quiet spot nearby, and waited. We were in luck, the man and youth eventually emerged, followed shortly by another. They were meeting with the senior Chinese Scorpion."
Jenny frowned, and asked, "Wait a moment. Why would one Scorpion be interested in the ledgers of a bank the other Scorpions use? He doesn't bank there, does he? And what were they doing near the Gin Palace at all? They seemed interested in me, but I'm not important."
Vastra smiled. "Excellent questions. We seem to now have another mystery on our hands. They may have recognized you from a description of their missing girl. Or they may have wanted to see if you met Mr Thackeray. In any case, review your notes this evening while you are confined to quarters. When we raid Sherwin and Soames on Sunday, I want to have a solid list of names and information that we are looking for in addition to simply taking money."
There followed a particularly punishing training session on the roof that included a number of kneeling lunge strikes. Madame demonstrated: start from a kneeling position, one knee up, the other on the floor, rise, step forward while cutting left to right and kneel, other foot forward. Repeat with an overhead cut. Repeat the two movements across the length of the roof in the fading light, over and over again.
Vastra left a tired and sore Jenny in the flat, and took the bowl of pigeon stew down to the area behind the Gin Palace. Vastra wasn't sure what to do with it, it seemed wrong to simply throw it out. She decided to try eating it; it smelled acceptable, she liked pigeon, and Jenny certainly seemed to enjoy the stew. She tried a few bites; it wasn't bad. Too many vegetables and far less meat than she would have liked, but it had potential. It was a rather interesting change from raw bird.
"Good evening, Madame Vastra."
Mr Thackeray walked out the back door of the Gin Palace, followed by two tall men. The first was a tall balding man with a slight moustache who stank from stale cigar smoke, and the other was a policeman who smelled of soap and polish. Vastra was instantly wary of both men.
"Mr Thackeray, hello. I had not expected you this evening; you usually visit early in the week."
"You're right of course, Madame. I came to see yourself and Miss Jenny."
"Regretfully Jenny is confined to our flat this evening. She went against my instructions, and is paying the penalty."
"Ah, that's a pity. I wanted to introduce both of you to your new guardians. Mr. Dawes arranged for the police to step in after Miss Jenny was followed today."
Vastra glanced over at the two men waiting nearby. The policeman was listening intently, and Vastra realized he was probably the same constable Jenny had met earlier. She did not want to encourage him to have a poor opinion of Jenny, as the girl might need allies in the future. "It was a minor infraction, and I would rather not inconvenience you. Remain here. I'll bring her down."
Vastra returned a few minutes later with a quiet and neatly dressed Jenny. Vastra had told her that she was being allowed out of the room for thirty minutes for the sole purpose of meeting the police, and to change so that men would not think poorly of her. So Jenny was on her best behaviour.
Mr Thackeray introduced them both to Inspector Abernathy of Scotland Yard and Constable Palmer of the London Police. He explained that The Metropolitan and London police must co-operate on this case, as Thackeray himself lived outside the City of London proper, over in Belgravia by Victoria Station, and thus in the territory of the Metropolitan Police headquartered at Scotland Yard, while the Gin Palace and the Bank of England were both the jurisdiction of the London Police.
Abernathy was a talkative blustery sort with watery eyes, pale, slightly flabby, and Vastra soon suspected he would probably be overly fatty (although she did like smoked meat) and he might not be that bright. In contrast, Constable Palmer was quiet, tall with a narrow face, and intelligent brown eyes. Lean and possibly a bit tough meat wise, Vastra decided. He tended to watched Jenny closely, but the hatchling was quiet herself.
As Inspector Abernathy was chattering away to Madame Vastra, Jenny approach Mr Thackeray and asked, "Sir. Could I have a word with you, please?"
"Yes Miss Jenny, what is it?"
Jenny led him off to the side, back near the pump, and waved him to a small bench. "Sir, 'member you asked Madame Vastra to use your Christian name t'other day?"
Thackeray nodded.
"Sir, if you recall, she mentioned to you that she's not been around here for a long time. I had to explain to her what you meant when you said that. She thinks of you as a friend, sir, honest she does. However, well, she's had losses in her family sir, you see. And she's not looking for new family, you see. Not now, and probably not for a long while. Didn't want you to be… hoping for something that's not to be, you see sir."
"Miss Jenny, forgive me, but did Madame Vastra just give me the brush off through her maid?"
"Oh sir, that sounds bad. Honest, she's just not… "
"I'm not familiar with your customs, Mr Thackeray, and Jenny volunteered to… I believe the term was … warn you off." Madame Vastra emerged out of the shadows. Jenny winced, and gave Mr Thackeray a hangdog look. This was just not one of her better days.
"I do not make friends easily," Madame continued, "and you are one of the few I have. But I am adamant on this. We would not suit each other, and I am not so hard hearted as to lead you on."
Jenny glanced up at Madame Vastra, confused by her choice of words, and then realized that she using phrases from the novels she'd read. Madame was trying to be friendly but firm, instead of simply blunt. It wasn't quite working, but it was a nice try.
Thackeray sighed. "Well. I do understand, but please believe me, I am still quite willing to assist in any way I can." He smiled, not really hurt, as he had never had the chance to raise his hopes too high. "It's simply what friends do."
On Sunday, Madame Vastra and Jenny slept most of the afternoon and early evening, and then reviewed the list of names they were interested in, and the general plan again. Sunday night was cloudy, and the moon had a heavy halo that meant rain soon. In fact, it was just starting to spit as they entered the tunnels.
This time Vastra planned to stay longer if needed. If there was another record of Safe Deposit boxes, she'd find the records they wanted, and try and target those boxes as well.
Getting into the vault at Sherwin and Soames was not a problem. Once again, Jenny remained in the tunnels keeping watch.
After Vastra dragged a nice large bag of sovereigns and a box of bank notes near the tunnel for later retrieval, she dug around for the bank books. The Record of Safe Deposit was there, and Vastra scanned it and the little vaults in turn; matching numbers to the names they were interested in.
As she found each one, she hammered at the lock to punch it through. The process was rather noisy, even with a cloth wrapped hammer and chisel. 'If we're going to keep doing this, one of us needs to learn a better way to open locks,' she mused.
From each small vault she retrieved bundles of papers, and other items, dropping each into an envelope and marking on the number. She then chose three other boxes at random, broke them open and scattered the contents on the floor, to confuse the issue. Vastra wasn't quite willing to give away that they were targeting Scorpions.
"Hi! You there!" called Jenny.
Vastra tried not to smile. She'd told Jenny that they wouldn't use each other's names during the raids; no sense in giving themselves away to anyone who chanced to overhear them. But she'd forgotten that Jenny's last 'partners in crime' had been a group of hatchlings playing in the street, and decorum was not a priority for them.
She looked into the mouth of the tunnel. "What is it?"
Jenny looked worried "The water in the tunnels is rising fast. Must be 'cause of the rain."
Vastra dropped back into the tunnel and went to look. Sure enough, the water was blocking their path out. They needed to find another exit. She didn't want to be trapped in the vault if it flooded!
"We'll go back to the vault, open it and go out the front door," said Vastra. "Remember what Mr Thackeray said; the vault doors are designed to keep people out, not in. That will also give us the chance to have a look at the bank's offices for more information." She very much hoped she could figure out how to open the door. Thackeray had said it would take some time!
"What about the guards?" asked Jenny. "Mr Thackeray took us by the guard room at the bank, remember? What if they've got some here?"
Vastra hesitated. If it was just her, a trained warrior against other warriors, it would be an honourable test of skill. However Jenny, no matter that she was an excellent student, was not a warrior. She glanced down at the girl, thinking about what she had learned watching the bank, and cursing her carelessness.
She hadn't ventured inside the building that she was investigating. The bank was rather small; there might not even be a guard room such as the Bank of England possessed. But it would have been no trouble to have wandered in, or even sent Jenny in to have a quick and quiet look. Now she lacked critical information. She was a fool!
Hopefully they wouldn't drown or be killed for her stupidity!
Author's Notes:
From (Jack the Ripper): "Victorian London's reputation as a center of opium smoking is quite unjustified and testifies to the power of literary fiction over historical fact. The London press, along with popular British authors of the day, were fond of portraying London's Limehouse district as an opium-drenched pit of danger and mystery. In fact [in the 1880's and 90's], London's Chinese population never exceeded the low hundreds. There are several accounts of people visiting opium dens but they all appear to be describing the same place which was a house in New Court, Shadwell. This was in the Bluegate Fields area of Gustave Dore and Oscar Wilde fame. The area was demolished in the early 1890s." (The building mentioned isn't in Limehouse, it's further west, south of Whitechapel. Naturally, that's the building that Jenny sees.)
Inspector Abernathy vs. Inspector Abeline – What's in a name? Inspector Abernathy in named in the Brilliant Book 2012 twice, once in connection with Vastra's rampage when she was unearthed, and later in connection with The Masked Lady. So here he is. I imagine him to be the bumbling inspector from 'Madame Vastra Investigates.'
In contrast, Inspector Abeline, who was mentioned in 'A Good Man Goes To War' really was the lead investigator into the Ripper murders in 1888. Abeline, despite various fictional attempts through the years to make him more 'dramatic', seems to have been a hard-working, reasonably competent, long-married inspector. He'll probably show up in the Dragon's Heart Series, Madame Vastra needs to see at least one intelligent inspector with the police.