Chapter 6 – Wallowing – Eggs and Bacon – Police - Crime and Punishment - Planning the End Game -The Blackest Scorpion!
Jenny woke up the next morning to an alarming sight. Madame Vastra was already awake and sitting at the little table, a large bottle of gin in front of her. She tipped the last dregs from a mug down her throat, and then scowled at Jenny.
'Bloody wonderful,' thought Jenny. 'Hope she's not drunk and in a temper over last night's trouble.' Jenny was getting rather fond of the idea that she could get through the days without dodging blows except during training.
Jenny looked around. No pigeons were waiting for her prepare and cook, and she didn't hear any of the birds outside. So no breakfast this morning. Well, a good excuse for something different, then. She gathered her clothes, a few shillings and the battered shopping basket, and then looked over at Madame who was now staring into her mug as if puzzled where the gin had gone.
"Going to step out for a few minutes. Anything you need, ma'am?"
Madame Vastra just shook her head. Jenny sighed, and headed out.
Jenny soon returned. She put on a pot of water to boil, placed an old brown second-hand teapot on the table, and then began pulling food out of the basket.
"Where did you go?" asked Madame Vastra. Jenny noticed Madame's snub nose was twitching; she'd caught the smell of the food.
"To the butcher and the grocer."
"I was under the impression that you decided to limit your spending so as not to draw attention," said Madame Vastra. She'd stood up, a little unsteady on her legs, and now moving back and forth between Jenny, the table, the food and the fireplace, reminding Jenny of an oversize cat hoping for scraps. "Won't this be seen as suspicious?"
Jenny winced at Madame's careful speech; she'd heard her Da do the same when he was trying not to appear drunk in front of Ma. She carried on gamely, "Told the grocer that today's my birthday, and you told me to get a proper feed. She's a friendly old gossip; inside an hour all of Cheapside will know what a kind mistress you are. Could even be true; my birthday's somewhere around now." Jenny shrugged, "Good excuse for a couple of nice meals today; cheer us up a bit. I've eggs and bacon for now, and some decent stewing beef for supper. You can have yours raw if you like. Got a small loaf o'bread, and a few vegetables for my stew. Know you don't like that, though."
"I rather enjoyed the stew you made a few weeks ago; on the night we met Inspector Abernathy. It needed more meat and fewer vegetables though."
"You ate my supper?"
"It would have been foolish to waste it without at least tasting it."
"Then I'll try meat for three and vegetables for one and a half, and see how we like that." Jenny shook her head, half amused and half-annoyed. Ah well, 'no supper' had been her suggestion for a punishment, so she only had herself to blame. Small loss compared to avoiding a beating.
Jenny bustled around, finding a plate for Madame Vastra, and pulling out a skillet. "Right then,' she said, "How do you like your bacon and eggs, ma'am?"
Madame gave her a speaking look.
"Raw. Right. Why do I even ask?" Jenny just shook her head. She wondered if Madame's people cooked at all, but decided that might be safer to ask when Madame was not slightly drunk or hung-over.
"Do you like tea?" she asked instead.
Madame looked up with a slight smile. "Yes, actually I do. I have some very fond memories of drinking tea in different times and different places. It's been a long time since I've had some."
"Good. Then tea it is."
Jenny fixed a pot of tea in the old teapot, and then cut strips of bacon from the slab, and passed Madame a plate with three raw eggs, and several strips of thick raw bacon.
"Jenny, is this what humans call pork?"
"The bacon? Well it's from pigs, is that what you mean?" Jenny looked at her warily, as if there were a bomb in the bacon. No idea what might set the woman off when she was in her cups.
"Aren't you worried about trichinosis?" asked Madame.
"Trickin' who?"
"It's a disease caused by a parasite that sometimes lives in pork.
"A para…?"
"A… bug I suppose would be a term for it."
Jenny looked closely at the bacon. "Don't see any bugs, and I haven't heard about it much? How do you get rid of it?"
"Well I'm fairly certain that heat kills it."
Jenny couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed. "Heat. You mean that cooking the bacon kills the bugs? Imagine that, us Apes finally win a round." She took back the plate of bacon from Madame Vastra and marched over to the small fireplace. "Now, how would you like your bacon, ma'am: crispy, or a bit soft?"
Madame Vastra looked surprised for a moment, and then thoughtful. "May I have one of each to start?" she asked, "and then I'll let you know."
It was a pleasant breakfast. Jenny cooked a soft-boiled egg for herself, and just for fun, made one for Madame as well, telling her she didn't need to eat the whole thing if she didn't like it; echoing her Ma teasing the little ones into trying new foods. Madame didn't use a spoon, she just broke off the top of the shell and lapped up the contents, although she almost burned her tongue on the first try. To the surprise of both, she enjoyed the egg so much, she asked Jenny for a second one, and more 'soft' bacon as well.
While Madame was eating, Jenny carefully gathered up the gin bottle, re-corked it, and put it away in the cupboard. Vastra, preoccupied with the soft-boiled eggs and bacon, made no move to stop her.
Eventually, Vastra looked up at Jenny, who was sitting across the little table on the bed, mopping up the last of the food from her plate with a piece of bread. Vastra's head still hurt, but she felt better now that she'd fed. How should she even start to talk about her stupidity, she wondered.
They could have been caught last night in a very clever trap, save that Jenny's hearing was better than her own, and although undeniably brave, Jenny was also more cautious than Vastra herself. Vastra wondered if that was because the girl had learned to live by her wits on the streets for several weeks in the dead of winter, and did not depend on her physical strength. Vastra herself had survived in the London tunnels for several months after the death of her people, and the experience had only made her hate the Apes even more.
Vastra shook her head. How did she even begin? Well, she could try being honest, that might work. "I should have listened to you, you know."
"How d'you mean, ma'am?"
"You have good instincts. Instead of trying to go through the doors, I dug crawlspaces under the vaults on the last two raids at your suggestion. I dug out to the alley last night because you were worried that it was too soon to raid the banks again. I'm starting to understand that you know a great deal about humans, and how they may react, although you still credit them with far too much intelligence. I should have listened to you and waited. It was fortunate that neither of us was caught."
Jenny sighed "Ma'am, you're an adult, and you're very smart, and very brave, but honestly you've got some daft ideas about humans. You really need to get out and about more." Jenny leaned her cheek on her hand and her elbow on the table, and gave the lizard woman a look of fond exasperation. Not that Madame would recognize it as such, Jenny supposed. The woman had confessed that human faces were hard for her to read. "You don't need a maid, you know. You need a keeper. Someone to keep you out of mischief, ma'am"
Madame Vastra looked at Jenny for a long moment, her head cocked, and her tongue flickering out, just a tiny bit, as if tasting the idea. "What I need is…an assistant. A companion."
There was a long, quiet moment, when time itself could change…
Pounding feet on the stairs suddenly interrupted them, followed by a fist hammering on the door of the flat.
"Open up!" boomed a loud voice. "This is the Police!"
Madame Vastra and Jenny scrambled up from the table. Both quickly cast their eyes around the tiny flat. While nothing incriminating could be seen, it would only take a few minutes of searching to turn up the money hidden under the bed, and Jenny's notebook, filled with information about the Scorpions, the banks and the stock certificates. Vastra grabbed the kitchen knife Jenny used to slice the bacon, and slid behind the door. She nodded to Jenny to open it.
Jenny wasn't quite sure what Madame intended to do with that knife, but she doubted that it would help. No chance to warn her though, the door was thin, and anything she said would be heard by the men on the other side.
Jenny took a deep breath, let it out, and opened the door.
Inspector Abernathy and Constable Palmer stood on the other side, Abernathy's hand was still raised, ready to pound on the door again, a huge grin on his face. Constable Palmer stood with folded arms, shaking his head. Strangely, just behind them stood Mr Thackeray, with his hands on his hips, looking fit to burst.
"Good Morning, sirs!" Jenny greeted them. "You're around early? Not any trouble, I hope?"
"I'm taking you down to Scotland Yard, my girl. Where's your Mistress, she's coming as well."
"Scotland Yard! Why? What'd I do?"
"It's a special treat for you! Happy Birthday Jenny!"
"Bloody Hell, Inspector, don't you ever do that again! It's a very good thing that it is me birthday, 'cause you just scared a year's growth off me!" As Jenny was speaking, Madame Vastra emerged from behind the door, the knife concealed in the folds of her skirt.
"Language, Jenny! Don't swear in front of your Mistress!" That was Thackeray, stern-voiced but grinning.
"While I agree about the swearing, I do think poor Jenny is just surprised. How did you know it was her birthday?" asked Madame Vastra.
"Oh, the local grocer told Mrs Brown, and Constable Palmer heard them. When he passed by the bank, he mentioned it to Thackeray here, who was out for a smoke, and he sent a messenger off to me, and here we are!" Abernathy beamed at Jenny. "Knew you'd liked the visits to the bank and the stock exchange, I hope you'll enjoy visiting where I work as well. Perhaps we can even persuade Constable Palmer here to take you to visit the London Police Headquarters someday soon."
"Was thinking more along the lines of introducing her to Newgate Prison, sir." Palmer's voice was bone dry as he eyed the girl. Wonderful, thought Jenny, he's holding a grudge from Mr Dawes getting on his tail about the bully boys.
Constable Palmer, Jenny noticed, was taking the opportunity to have a good look at the flat from the doorway. Jenny let him; aside from the breakfast dishes, the place was as neat and clean as ever, and there was nothing lying around that might confirm any suspicions the man had.
"Newgate? Bit grim don't you think?" asked Abernathy, oblivious to the undercurrent between Palmer and Jenny.
"I would invite you gentleman in for tea, but I'm afraid we would not all fit." Madame Vastra said, using the most formal voice that she could. "Inspector, a visit to Scotland Yard would be most educational. If you would give us fifteen minutes to clean up and make ourselves presentable, we shall meet you downstairs."
Just then Mrs Brown called up the stairs: "Inspector, there's a messenger here for you. He says it's urgent." Abernathy excused himself, and went to see what the fuss was about. He returned a moment later, frowning over the message.
"There was another robbery last night, at the Trafalgar Bank. Jenny, I'm very sorry, but I need to postpone that visit to the Yard. But we'll schedule it soon. I'll try to come around this evening and let you know what the latest is on the case!"
The men followed his lead and left, Abernathy with a cheerful wave and Palmer with a last look around. Mr Thackeray took a moment to pass over a packet for Jenny, saying that it was a present; he needed to return to the bank, but he'd come along because he wanted to wish Jenny all the best for the day, and keep the inspector from carrying a foolish prank too far.
That evening, Abernathy and Thackeray met them behind the Gin Palace. Inspector Abernathy was bouncing between elation and despair.
"It turns out The Trafalgar Bank had some of its own men in the vault and the sewers last night, and they almost caught the robbers! But they escaped from the bank, and then were spotted by our local patrol."
"What happened?" asked Jenny, curious to see how the police were telling the story.
"The boy outran us, pure and simple. The Masked Lady… seems to have disappeared into thin air."
"Fairly sure it's a man, sir; he probably just took off the skirts. Everyone was so focused on looking for a woman; they probably ran right by him." Constable Palmer walked into the Area and joined them.
Jenny blinked in surprise. That was exactly what had happened, but t'other way around. Instead of The Masked Lady becoming a man, her 'boy accomplice' had become a match girl. Constable Palmer was too smart for Jenny's comfort.
Jenny thanked Mr Thackeray for his gift; a thin book on managing household accounts, and a small blank account book. Abernathy dug into his pockets, and produced a wrapped box, which turned out to be a small but very practical sewing kit.
Mrs Brown spotted the group, and brought out drinks for them, including a small mug of Ginger Beer for Jenny 'as a Birthday treat.' Jenny thanked her, took a small sip while Mrs Brown beamed, then set it aside. Vastra quietly examined it after Mrs Brown returned indoors, and declared that it had a very low alcohol content. After that, Jenny happily sipped away at it, enjoying the strong ginger taste. Given how poorly her Da did with strong drink, Jenny was sure that she should avoid it as much as possible.
The group relaxed, Abernathy shaking his head over the latest news. "They've robbed three banks. They took mostly cash and notes from the first, they did a more thorough job on the second and completely cleaned out the third. They tried for a fourth bank, and were almost caught. So what will they do next?"
"Have the police found any connection between the banks?" asked Madame Vastra.
"None so far," replied Abernathy. Jenny kept quiet; Madame would lead the conversation if she needed to, Jenny's job was to listen and remember. Jenny was happy with that; it would look awful strange if she knew too much about the banks that were robbed.
"They only strike on Saturday and Sunday nights," Abernathy continued. "They may work during the week nights, making it difficult for them to set things up for a robbery. And that's another thing, how in blazes are they digging so fast?"
"Language, Abernathy!" admonished Thackeray.
Jenny glanced over to where Constable Palmer was sitting stiffly with a small mug of tea. He looked annoyed at Abernathy's blathering, but she knew that he couldn't say anything, as the Inspector was senior to him in rank. Jenny suddenly felt badly for him; Abernathy, Thackeray and even Madame Vastra were of a different social class, and that made things awkward for him.
Palmer noticed her looking at him, and waved her over. Jenny warily approached him, sitting on an upturned bucket, close enough that they could speak quietly, without being so close as to be a nuisance. He scowled at her for a long moment. "Surprised that I ain't got a present for yer?" he asked.
Jenny shrugged. "Surprised I got any presents at all to be honest! My family usually celebrated birthdays with a decent meal, and a day trip on Saturday to somewhere interesting, usually somewhere cheap or free. Couldn't afford many presents."
Palmer's face softened slightly. "Aye, same with my lot. Christmas we might get something, birthdays not so much. So how old are you, anyway?"
"Thirteen," Jenny answered promptly.
"Ready to take on the world." Palmer nodded, then growled, "Hold out your hand."
Jenny cautiously did so. Palmer fished in his breast pocket; then pressed a piece of warm metal into Jenny's palm. "You're the type that gets into trouble, both of your own making and not. Too clever for your own good, I'd wager. This won't work miracles, but it might help a bit. Three long blasts, then pause, and three long blasts. That'll bring the police if any can hear it."
Jenny opened her hand to examine the shiny silver tube of a London police whistle and grinned. "Oh, that's grand, that is! Thank you so much!"
"Be careful, it can't summon the police out of thin air. So don't depend on it." Palmer suddenly gave a full grin. "Mind, if you blow it right in a bloke's ear, it might buy you a breath or two. But then run like the wind. 'Cause he'll be mad enough to gut you like a fish."
Jenny nodded, impressed.
Abernathy's raised voice interrupted them.
"We will catch him and his accomplice too!"
"So what will happen to the robber if, I mean when the police catch her..him?" Jenny prayed that Abernathy hadn't caught the slip.
No danger there, the man was as thick as ever. Even Jenny was starting to wonder how on earth he'd ever become a police inspector.
"Well, at this point imprisonment. But if either the watchmen or the policemen were killed, it would be the noose, of course."
"What?" Jenny was surprised. And scared.
"For murder committed during a robbery? Of course they'd be hung! Robbery is one thing Jenny, but murder is quite another."
Jenny suddenly realized that she needed to make sure Madame Vastra understood this. The woman didn't seem to recognize, or respect, many human laws. If Madame used the poison in that tongue of hers when she was angry, they'd both be in the soup for sure.
And maybe it was time to stop robbing banks.
"I don't want you topped!"
Madame Vastra had never seen Jenny so upset. The girl was pacing back and forth like … well… a caged ape.
"Topped?"
"Hung ma'am. Strung up. Killed." Jenny shook her head. "'Member when we were in the Museum? All them insect bodies and skeletons and such?"
"Of course. Rather elementary, naturally, you apes are just beginning to get a grasp on basic science…"
"Yes, Ma'am, we are. So we collect things. Anything strange, or unusual, or not seen before. Butterflies, fish, and all sorts of reptiles…"
Jenny took a deep breath. "Don't you see? If they hang you, they won't bury you ma'am. They'll carve you up like an animal, and you'll end up stuffed in some collection. You don't want that and neither do I! But there's no way on earth I could stop it, 'cause I'll be in jail!"
Madame Vastra studied Jenny for a long moment. She flicked her tongue out just a bit, tasting the air. "You're afraid, aren't you?" she asked. "You're afraid of being caught!"
It was all Jenny could do not to roll her eyes. "'Course I'm afraid of being caught. But I'm more scared for you than for me. Ma'am, what are we doing?"
"Shutting down the Scorpions, or course!"
"Yes, Ma'am. Why?"
"So you'll be safe."
"What about you being safe?"
Madame Vastra sighed deeply, and looked at Jenny for a long moment.
"Jenny," she said gently, "I am very, very old, and I have lost all my family. In a very real way, I am the last of my kind. In your world, the world of the Apes, I will never be truly safe."
"Maybe not," said Jenny, "But you're safer now than when we met, ain't you? Now you know Mr Thackeray, and Mr Dawes, and even Inspector Abernathy and Constable Palmer." She shrugged and grinned a little. "And me of course, for what that's worth."
"That's worth… a great deal. Far more than you seem to think. And yes I see your point about the others, but we've been lying to them."
"Yes, Ma'am. That's what I mean. Maybe it's time to stop lying to them." Jenny grinned again. "Mind you, I'm not sure we want to go around telling them all the truth, but we need to stop stealing."
"We haven't even touched the Chinese Scorpion yet."
"All right. Let's put him down. And then we stop."
"I'd still like to clean out that last bank. And get the safe deposit boxes that we missed at Willmott's. However, we have a new problem."
Jenny frowned, "A problem?" she asked.
"Did you catch what Inspector Abernathy told us about the men in the vault last night?"
"He said they were the bank's men."
"Correct. Those men also knew there were dockworkers down in the sewers looking for us. And you didn't understand the language those workers spoke. Most likely, it was Chinese." Madame Vastra sounded very grave. "Jenny, it is very likely that the Scorpions have guessed that we are targeting them."
Jenny felt ill. The Scorpions were already trouble for her. Now they would be mad as hornets.
"Our only advantage is that they seem to be convinced we're men," continued Madame Vastra.
"What about the police? When you were telling me that story when we started, about mining a fortress, didn't you say that part of the plan was to send in warriors after the wall was broken? If the Scorpions are weaker than they were, could we get the police to help lock them up? We've got a lot more notes and stuff on them now."
"The question is, can we do so without giving away who the robbers really are?"
"Let's try, at least. Please?"
"All right. Tomorrow we'll review your notes. We'll write up our findings, have a close look at the details, and demonstrate what crimes the Scorpions have committed, send the notes to Scotland Yard, and see if we can finally get the police to do their job."
On Tuesday, using Jenny's notes, they wrote up their case against the Scorpions; who was involved, where they lived, what companies they owned, how they were connected, everything. They also tallied up what 'belonged' to the senior Scorpions based on the ledgers they'd taken. This amount Madame Vastra claimed in a covering letter as their 'fee' for the investigative work they'd done. It amounted to almost one million pounds. Finally, Madame cut out the pages of the records belonging to the senior Scorpions from the ledger books and day books.
Jenny's notes started in the back half of her school copybook. Her Da had ripped it in two along the spine in a fit of drunken anger. She'd recovered it a few days after she met Madame Vastra when they 'raided' Jenny's family flat.
As Jenny worked, Madame leafed through the notes in the second notebook. She watched Jenny slowly and carefully print the information, including updates and corrections that they'd made over time. Madame finally asked, "You print. You do not write?"
Jenny looked up, surprised. "Can a little, but I'm not very good at it. Need more practice. Might buy a book that can show me, when I've saved up a bit more."
Madame nodded, then cocked her head. "Now that I think about it, there was some nice writing in your copy book. In the front."
"In my school book? Where was that?"
Madame hunted up the other part of the torn book, and then showed Jenny the page inside the cover that she'd seen a few weeks ago.
Jenny stared at the writing for a long time, not saying anything, then reached out her hand and brushed the tips of her fingers over it. "This is Ma's writing," she said sadly. "This is my family, me and my brother and sister. Even the baby's here, Ma was going to write in the date Frankie was born." She pointed to the date beside her own name: June 4, 1868. "These must be our birthdays."
Jenny could feel Madame watching her. Would a woman who wasn't quite human understand? This was one of the very few things she had left of her family.
It took a few minutes for them to sort out that based on the date of the newspaper clipping about the third bank robbery, Jenny's birthday was just over a week ago; the Saturday of the weekend that they'd skipped raiding the banks.
"It's too bad we missed the correct day," said Madame Vastra.
"Couldn't be helped," replied Jenny. "Least now I know the proper date."
"Agreed. We'll do better next year."
Jenny gave her a sad little smile, wondering if Madame would still have time for Jenny a year from now. Even her own Da didn't want her around; why would Madame Vastra, who didn't really like people, stay in touch?
When Jenny was finished writing, Vastra looked over the new notes for a long time, and then looked up, staring sightlessly through the window. Finally she spoke.
"Jenny, based on what you've written, and what we've done, what are we most likely to do next?"
Jenny frowned for a moment, then said, "Guess we'd try again for the Trafalgar Bank, or maybe rob…" she leafed through her notes, "the Tomes Bank near the Strand."
Vastra stared at her for a moment. "When?" she asked.
"Either this Sunday or next. Maybe in three weeks." Jenny replied without hesitating. She thought a moment, then shrugged. "Guess we might do it on a Saturday instead, like when we started."
Vastra nodded. She'd been very foolish. "We established a pattern, and we were almost caught."
A pattern that was clear enough now that even Jenny, for all her inexperience, could predict with accuracy what they were going to do next. The police didn't know, because they didn't have the information that Vastra had, but the Scorpions certainly knew which banks they dealt with. Guessing the nights of the robberies was child's play after three consistent samples.
"So now, we're going to break the pattern," Vastra continued. "Tell me, based on your notes, I we want to do something unexpected, what should we do?"
"Not rob a bank. Or rob one any night other than Sunday night or Saturday night. A Thursday might be good, or a Tuesday. Confuse them. Best not to rob the bank, though."
"Unfortunately the Scorpions will most likely shuffle their funds to one of the other banks. Possibly one we've already robbed, which would complicate matters."
"Well they might take it out of the bank altogether. Keep it at home. Lots of people don't use banks."
Vastra was startled. "Keep it at home?"
"Sure. Most unexpected thing a rich man could do: keep his money in his house." Jenny shrugged.
Vastra cocked her head. "Is that likely?"
"Well not usually I'd guess, but if someone was hitting a batch of banks, then maybe yes? We don't use a bank. I just give my earnings to you. You don't use a bank, your money's under the bed."
Startled, Vastra looked up and hissed. "How do you know where my money is?"
Jenny stared back at her surprised. "You're daft some days, you know that? We counted it out and stacked it under the bed!"
Vastra almost slapped herself. Jenny was referring to the bank money, not Vastra's meager savings!
"Yes, you are correct. It slipped my mind." Vastra was fairly certain that Jenny didn't believe her, but the damage was done.
"Very well then. We still have certain goals to achieve. I have an idea on how to do so." Vastra stood up, and moved to gather her cloak. "The first thing we need is a good map of London."
They walked over to visit the publishers and bookstores on Paternoster Row, and at Houlston's found a map that fit Madame's needs. While they were on Paternoster Row, Madame spent some time looking at the area and the buildings. Jenny was unsure what she was doing, but thought it might have something to do with Sherwin and Soames Bank. Jenny wasn't sure why Madame was so interested in the area; although they'd not completely cleared out the vault, they'd done a pretty thorough job in Jenny's opinion, and they didn't need to go back. Mind, St. Paul's Cathedral was impressive, and the area seemed agreeable without being West End expensive. The law courts (and Newgate Prision) were nearby, but so where several nice sets of town houses. Wouldn't be a bad place to live or work, Jenny decided. She had no idea what Madame was thinking, though. No doubt she'd be asked or told if needed. Not like it was her problem either way. Even Jenny knew that people of her sort might visit a respectable place like this, but former match girls could never live here.
After they returned to the flat, Madame Vastra spent some time going over Jenny's notes again, jotting down ideas in a separate sheet of cheap foolscap. At one point she summoned Jenny from the roof where the girl was practicing footwork, and proceeded to ask some very strange questions.
"I need to confuse a group of apes in a building." Madame Vastra began. "Perhaps even arrange for them to leave of their own choice. There are several methods we might consider. I want you to point out pitfalls or ideas that I may have missed."
"What sort of methods?"
"Arson, for example," said Madame.
"Burn the place?" Jenny was shocked. "You'd destroy what's inside, and it would soon be crawling with firemen and police. Could spread to other buildings too. Pretty dangerous!"
"I was rather thinking of setting a small fire, and using the smoke as the distraction. But let us consider other ideas first. Perhaps we could stage a collision between two carriages? Would the servant's go out and help? Or better; load a carriage with bank notes, we have plenty of those, and arrange for it to crash. They 'd run out for the money. That would take advantage of Ape greed."
"You really don't like us, do you? 'Sides, I can't drive a carriage. Yet. Can you?"
"No. Could we hire a cab?"
"To crash? Thought we were keeping in the shadows? You hire a cabby for that, and it'll be bloody expensive and the cabbies are worse than our grocer for gossip!"
"We may need to consider another partner in the future."
"What about pretend a Gas Leak? No, wait, we'd need a man to pose as a gas company man."
"Why?"
"Women don't work as gas inspectors. Or cabbies, for that matter."
"Why not?"
"Dunno. Maybe the men don't like to share the jobs that pay well?"
"Apes are very strange."
"Pity we're well past the Queen's Birthday. Some years there arefireworks and such."
"Fireworks? Small random explosions? That might work".
Jenny suddenly started laughing. "If we want them gone, maybe we should just send them letters, you know something like "We've been found out, run away!" and sign the names of the other Scorpions."
"Now that idea," said Madame Vastra, "has some interesting possibilities."
It took Vastra another two days to perfect her plan. Once she was done, she bundled up the copy of Jenny's notes and mailed them to Inspector Abernathy. She almost wished she could mail them to Constable Palmer, as she wasn't sure about Abernathy's intelligence, but the Inspector was named in the newspapers as investigating the case; he was the point of contact that the public (and in theory, the robbers) knew about.
On Friday evening Abernathy dropped by to rant to Thackeray and Madame Vastra about the arrogance of the robbers. The notes arrived that morning, and were already causing quite a stir at Scotland Yard. Abernathy was torn between elation at all the information about the Tong's criminal activities in the East End, and anger over the accusations against the senior Scorpions.
"The allegations about the banks and business men are pure nonsense of course, they must be!"
"Perhaps, but perhaps not. Mr Dawes was concerned about something he found in the ledgers of Sherwin and Soames," replied Mr Thackeray. "I suggest you get in touch with him first thing on Monday, and let him have a look at those notes. I think he might have some insight for you."
Abernathy reluctantly agreed, but then cheered up a bit. "We have some of our men looking into the other goings on; the notes had information that could break the Black Scorpions wide open if they are true!"
Jenny and Madame Vastra both slept very well that night.
On Monday, Madame Vastra sat down with Jenny. The map was spread on the table between them, and for a change, Madame sat on the bed beside Jenny so they could both read it.
"Our last task is to investigate the offices and homes of the members of upper classes who have been profiting from the Scorpions. I particularly want to focus on the Head of the Tong, the Chinese Senior Scorpion. So far he is almost untouched, because he did not keep as much money in the banks as the other Seniors. Today is when we will prepare for that work. We will be very busy for the next three days and nights. If all goes as planned, by Friday we will have done as much as we can do against the Scorpions. After that, we will leave it in the hands of the police."
"Now, let me explain…"
Madame Vastra went through her entire plan in detail, using the map to explain key locations and times. Today and tonight was the ground work; Madame was going to be doing things in several locations, in both the east and west ends of the city. The plan was tricky, daring and would depend on a great deal of surprise.
After a second run through, Jenny looked from the map to Madame Vastra and then back again, tracing through the plan with a finger. Finally she sat back, gazed at Madame for a long moment and finally said,
"Ma'am, I'm not sure if you're absolutely brilliant, or barking mad!"
"Barking…? I am most certainly NOT a dog!"
"Nevermind, sorry I mentioned it." Jenny shook her head. "What do you need me to do?"
"Several tasks that may seem trivial at first glance, but which are important to our success."
Madame Vastra handed Jenny a letter and a list.
"I need you to follow these instructions. Make certain they are carried out in this exact order. Do you understand?"
Jenny looked at the list:
First - Wrap up the ledgers and day books in waterproof parcels
Second - Move the parcels to the Guildhall, north of the Police Station near the Bank of England, and hide them in the covered walkways on the east side of the lawn.
Third - Take the London underground to the west end, and mail the letter addressed to 'The Bank Manager – Bank of England.' It has instructions on how to find the ledgers, so it must be mailed After the parcels are hidden, as the Post Office will be as efficient as usual. If possible, mail it after 7:30 PM.
Finally - Return to the flat and wait for Vastra to return. Destroy this list.
Jenny shrugged. "Second one'll take time and be tricky. The rest are simple enough."
"Agreed. Can you do it? Constable Palmer works out of that police station; if he sees you near the Guildhall, he will recognize you. If he recognizes you, when the ledgers are found, he will suspect that you are somehow involved with the robberies. So you must not be seen, and you must certainly not be caught!"
Jenny paused for a long moment, thinking carefully. "Yes. Yes ma'am, I can do it."
Madame Vastra watched her young human, highly amused. Jenny spent some time arranging the books in piles; first one big pile that was almost too heavy for her to lift, next many piles of one book each, which ended in mutterings about wrapping paper and too many trips. Then followed combinations of books that seemed to be tests for what the girl could carry and conceal, using scraps of cloth to judge how much wrapping paper she would need. Finally satisfied, the girl, dressed in her' maid's outfit' was ready to go and pick up her supplies. Madame Vastra left with her. They parted company downstairs, Jenny heading to get waxed parcel paper and string, and Madame Vastra to begin the preparations for the final series of raids on the Black Scorpions.
Jenny bought what she needed, scattering her purchases over several shops. She returned to the flat at the Gin Palace, and wrapped up the piles of books. Just to confuse matters, she combined the books of different banks as she needed them for convenience, and didn't sort them according to which bank they were from. When she was ready she put the first, large package in her satchel and headed out.
It took several trips. Once while walking west on Cheapside towards Milk Street so she could take a back route north to the Guildhall, Jenny met Constable Palmer. She said hello, as she decided she was in her own neighbourhood, and it would look stranger if she didn't than if she did. She finished dropping off the last parcel, and then headed north to Moorgate Station on the Underground. She rode to Notting Hill Gate, which was close to the houses of two of the senior Scorpions. She found a Pillar Box, (one of the old green ones, to her surprise,) and posted the letter. Finally, with the sun just starting to set, she exited the Mansion House station, and was done.
As she approached the Gin Palace, she saw Mrs Brown in the distance, standing on the wood sidewalk in front of the Gin Palace and welcoming her patrons for the evening. She saw the grocer's boy trudging towards to his shop, probably coming back from a late delivery. Jenny waved her hand in greeting, and Mrs Brown and the boy waved back.
All of them missed the driver of a run-down carriage parked at the side of the street near the Gin Palace, who turned around, stared hard at Jenny, and then leaned down to speak to his passenger. As Jenny came abreast of the carriage the lights suddenly went out and she found herself wrapped in what felt like an old sack, bodily lifted up, and tossed. She hit hard, and for a moment the wind was knocked out of her. She heard muffled shouting, and then the surface lurched beneath her, and kept moving.
'Bloody hell,' swore Jenny in her head, 'I've been snatched!" She tried to yell, but another bit of cloth was wrapped around her head over the sack, covering her mouth. It was everything Jenny could do not to choke. Rope was wrapped around her body and her legs, and after that, all Jenny could do was wait. She tried to fight the horror she felt; she'd been snatched before as a little girl, though luckily she'd been rescued. She was older now, and better trained. She might be able to get out of this herself if she stayed calm.
Suddenly she remembered that she'd followed Madame's instructions to the letter. So the list of instructions was still in her pocket, waiting to be destroyed when Jenny returned to the Gin Palace. That list proved they were the bank robbers!
She tried to search her head for anything in Madame Vastra's lessons that might be useful. The one thing that kept surfacing was "Anger is always the shortest distance to a mistake." Whatever else she did, Jenny needed to stay calm and think.
After a rough ride for a long time, the carriage stopped and Jenny was lifted up and tossed over what felt like a man's shoulder. From the sound and feel of things, she guessed she was being carried up a flight of stairs. She could smell a thick cloying smoke, and she almost gagged into the cloth in her mouth.
A minute later, she was tossed to the floor, dragged up to her knees by the scruff of her neck, the ropes were loosened and the sack ripped from her head.
Jenny quickly glanced around, and knew she was in a bad fix.
The two toughs, youth and adult, were at her sides, each holding an arm with their hand on her shoulders, pressing her down. The room was filled with men, mostly Chinese. In front of her was a throne like chair, painted gold with red velvet cushions. On it sat a man, his face in shadow.
Her maid's cap was ripped off her head. "This is the girl from the gin shop what kept us from taking the ledgers you wanted, sir. She managed to give us the slip when we went back to snatch that bank manager. She's probably squealing to the bank robbers too; we know that the police like to chat with her Mistress at the Gin Palace, and tell her stuff. Likely she can tell you where the ledgers are better than anyone, sir "
"Wait," came a heavily accented voice. Another man, this one Chinese, stepped up and grabbed her face, turning it so he could see the mole above her lip. "Two men are dead because of this little bitch! This is Jenny Flint, the young whore we are hunting."
"I'm no whore, you goddamned son of a pox-struck bastard!" swore Jenny. She started to struggle, but quickly stopped. No point in wearing herself out, she might need her strength later.
"So this is our elusive young vixen." said the man in front of her, in excellent English with a faint Chinese accent. He rose from his throne-like chair and approached, circling around her. Finally he stopped in front of her, and with a menacing sneer asked: "And do you know who I am, young miss?"
Jenny looked up from her knees and growled. "Yes 'sir'. You're the Leader of the Black Scorpion Tong."
Author's Notes:
Trichinosis – Before you start throwing out the bacon, this disease has almost disappeared, at least in North America. When I was researching this chapter, the figures stated that about a dozen cases crop up a year, mostly in poorly prepared GAME meats, not pork. I first learned about the disease from a now elderly relative who was both a farm girl and public health nurse. When she was young, the disease was a real concern. Now, well, just remember to cook your bacon properly.
"…as the Post Office will be as efficient as usual." – Vastra isn't being sarcastic here; depending on the year in question, the Post Office in Victorian London delivered the mail up to from six to twelve times a day, on rounds between 7:30 AM and 7:30 PM! In the country, there were up to six rounds a day.
Next time –Jenny's in a fine fix. The shadowy leader of the Black Scorpion Tong in front of her, the Tong member who bought her for a whore behind her, two toughs holding her down, and a roomful of armed Scorpions!
The Black Scorpion Tong has no idea how much trouble they're in, do they?