Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (32 page)

The guards at the gate had been expecting him. 
Inspector Stapleton was well known and probably feared by the guards – most of
whom were reportedly corrupt.  But Hal was quickly ushered to the State area,
where he met Stapleton at the door.

“I’m glad you could make it so quickly, Hal,” he
said.  “If this information is true, we could learn who’s behind the
disappearances.”

As Hal followed Stapleton into the building, he was
hit with a rush of fetid air caused by too many unwashed bodies held in one
place along with the toll of disease and death.  With a sickening lurch in his
stomach, he wondered what it must be like in the Common area.

Stapleton led him down several corridors.  They
passed large cells, some of which were crowded with prisoners.  Others held
only two or three in a space that could accommodate four times that number.

Stapleton explained the penal process as they
walked.  “Each prisoner pays for his keep.  The more you pay, the more
amenities you receive.  You can purchase anything from extra time in the
communal area to having fewer people in your cell.  There are, of course,
other, less savory items for sale.”

Hal tried very hard not to think of what the latter
referred to.  They turned a corner and were midway down the corridor when they
heard a voice from one of the nearby cells.

“Oi!  Lord ‘Al!”

Hal turned to see a man hailing him from the cell
they had just passed.  He was one of only half a dozen occupants of the cage. 
Hal recognized him as a former bully boy at Madame Thurmond’s.  And while the
man had certainly been in better health when Hal had known him previously, he
looked considerably better off than many of the men they’d passed.

Though Stapleton had warned him not to get too close
to any of the cells, Hal stopped to speak to the man.  From what he remembered,
he’d been dismissed from Madame Thurmond’s for using too much force on too many
occasions.  “Bleaker,” said Hal. 

“How kind of you to remem’er me, milord,” said the
man, bobbing his head.  “You always was a good ‘un.”

Stapleton moved closer to Hal.  Out of the corner of
his eye, Hal noticed Stapleton had a hand on his club.  Bleaker noticed, as
well.

“Tell the China Street pig there ain’t no use for
that,” said Bleaker contemptuously.

Stapleton showed no reaction to the derogatory
phrase, other than the stone-hard stare he was known for when dealing with
criminals. 

“You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head, Bleaker,”
said Hal.  “Inspector Stapleton is an excellent Runner, as well as a friend.”

Bleaker’s demeanor changed completely.  “Didn’t mean
no harm by it,” he said with a smile that revealed rotting teeth.  “But I’ve a
reputation to keep up.  Can’t be seen cozying up to the law.”  But from his
expression, he looked like he’d be just as happy beating both Stapleton and Hal
with the club.

Hal began to move on.

“Beggin’ a moment of yer time, milord,” said
Bleaker.  “But I was wondering wot you ‘eard from Madame Thurmond.”

“What do you mean?”

Bleaker studied him for a moment, then shrugged. 
“Nothin’.  Just starved fer any bit of news from the outside world.  Don’t get
much of it in ‘ere.  Jus’ wonderin’ if you still visited the old place.  For a
while there, it looked like you spent more time there than at yer brother’s
grand ‘ouse.”

“Yes, well, that is all in the past,” said Hal, as
he prepared to move on. “Take care of yourself, Bleaker.” 

Hal took a guinea out of his pocket and was about to
give it to the man, who’d already put his hand through the bars to take it.  But
before Hal’s hand was within reach of Bleaker, Stapleton took the coin from
him, then pulled him back.  Stapleton drew a few shillings from his own pocket,
then lightly tossed them on the ground near Bleaker’s feet.  The flash of pure
hatred in Bleaker’s face when he looked at Stapleton shocked Hal. 

“It’s for your own good, Bleaker,” said Stapleton.  
He nodded toward the cell’s other prisoners, who’d been watching their exchange
with interest.  “They’d slit your throat for a guinea.  But a few shillings
won’t interest them.  Lord Henry, we should go.”

Hal had already taken a step backward and was none
too eager to linger.  “Bleaker,” he said to the man in dismissal.

“Lord ‘Al,” said Bleaker, as he picked up the
coins.  “Might see each other again, we will.  And I never forget a kindness.”

It was obvious he also never forgave a slight.

Hal joined Stapleton, who continued down the
corridor.  “Thank you for stopping me,” he said.  “I’m no fan of Bleaker’s, but
I wouldn’t want the man to die because I gave him a coin.”

“That’s not why I did it,” said Stapleton.  “If
you’d touched his hand, chances are he would have pulled you to the bars and
put a blade to your throat.  I doubt Lynwood would approve.”

Hal couldn’t believe how unprepared he was for the
dangers of simply visiting the prison.  Dangers Stapleton faced on a continual
basis.  Not for the first time as of late, he felt like the veriest wastrel.

“What Bleaker said back there, about me spending too
much time at Madame Thurmond’s…” said Hal.

“Don’t worry.  I won’t tell your brothers.”

“That’s not what I meant.  I did do that, but not
anymore.”

“You’re reforming?” asked Stapleton with
good-natured skepticism.

“It would seem so,” said Hal. 

Stapleton nodded to a guard, who unlocked a solid
oak door to reveal an interrogation room.  A lone prisoner sat on the other
side of a table, shackled to a chair, his head down as he slept.  Stapleton
took a seat on the opposite bench and motioned for Hal to join him. 

The prisoner shook the sleep from his eyes as he
studied the men seated opposite him.  “You again,” he said to Stapleton.  “I
hope you came with a pardon.  Never did care for this place.”

“I thought this was your first visit, Rodgers” said Stapleton,
who looked like he hadn’t believed that Banbury tale for a moment.

“It’s the first time I’ve been incarcerated,” said
Rodgers smoothly.  “But I done visited before, doing my Christian duty to help
the less fortunate.  Now, who’s the toff you brung and is he goin’ to give me
my pardon?”

“His name is none of your concern.  But I would like
you to tell him your story.”

“Again?” asked Rodgers, as he sat back in his
chair.  “I already done told you everythin’ I know.”

“Again,” said Stapleton in a tone that brooked no
compromise.

“Fine.  But I’ll expect that pardon when I’m done. 
I’ve wasted enough time already.”  He cleared his throat in preparation to tell
the story.  “I do a fair amount of business around the docks.”

Stapleton turned to Hal.  “Rodgers here specializes
in burgling ships and various other crimes by the docks.  Including, I suspect,
a murder now and again.”

In response, Rodgers simply smiled.  “As you say,
you ‘suspect.’  I can’t help what you got in your mind to think of me.  And you
has to prove I’m guilty to do anythin’ about it.  But that’s neither here nor
there.  My work takes me to the docks and the past several months there’s been
rumors.  At first it was just whores gone missing, and you never know what’d
happen to a girl like that.”

“Whether they’ve been murdered,” said Hal.

Rodgers shrugged.  “It’s a risk they take doing that
with all sorts of low lifes.  Ain’t nothin’ new and this is the first I ever
heard Bow Street interested in it.  Anyways, no bodies has shown up, which also
ain’t that unusual since there’s any number of ways to make a corpse
disappear.”

“As you would know,” said Stapleton.

“So you suspect,” said Rodgers, enjoying the power
he held.  “Then more coves started commentin’ on the whores, especially when
the girls they used to pay wasn’t around no more.  Then I heard a rumor that it
was slavers.”

“White slavers in London?” said Hal.  “But they were
run out years ago.”

Rodgers snorted.  “They always come back.  They
always will.  Don’t matter what the punishment, if there’s blunt to be made
someone’s gonna make it.”

“Do you know they took the girls for a fact?” asked
Hal.

Rodgers shrugged again.  “I
suspect
.”  Here
he laughed at Stapleton.  “Don’t like yer words thrown back at you, do you?  I
don’t know fer sure, but it makes sense.  Too many girls gone missin’ with too
few bodies showin’ up.  It’s been going on a while, too.  A bunch of birds went
missin’ a few months ago, then nothin’.  Now a bunch has disappeared again. 
The timing’s right.”

Stapleton nodded.  “It would have given the slavers
a chance to ship the women out.  Nothing would happen again until close to
their return.  It would take too much money and security to keep the girls
captive between voyages.  I’ve done a great deal of checking and it does appear
the timing is right.  We’re learned that another dozen or so prostitutes have
gone missing in the past week.  If our suspicions are correct, it would seem
the ship is already in port and ready for a return voyage.”

“Are you connected with these slavers, Rodgers?”
asked Hal.

“Of course not,” said Rodgers.  “But I do hear
things.”

“Such as?” asked Hal.

Rodgers’s only response was to turn to Stapleton
expectantly.

“Rodgers here says he’ll give us a name if we clear
him of the burglary charges that he’s being held on.”

“And anythin’ else you might turn up in your
investigation,” added Rodgers.

“So in other words, you’ve taken part in these
crimes,” said Hal, fighting back the anger that surged up in him.  Violence
against woman was a truly heinous crime.  To hear this man try to bargain his
way out of prison when he was quite likely guilty in the matter was
infuriating.  He turned to Stapleton.

The Inspector appeared to want to get a confession
out of Rodgers in a different way all together.  But instead, he said “Give us
proof that you know about the man in charge.  Then I will see about getting
your sentence reduced.”

“You’ll get the charges thrown out or you’ll have
nothin’ more from me.”

“Proof, Rodgers.  Something that shows me I’m not
just wasting my time.”

Rodgers studied Stapleton, as if weighing his
options.  Finally, he spoke.  “Check the harbor manifest for April the second. 
If’n I’m tellin’ the truth, you’ll notice something odd.  But next time you
come you’d better bring my pardon.  You’re runnin’ out of time if you want to
prevent that ship from getting’ away again.”

Stapleton looked like he wanted to do violence to
the man, but instead he ushered Hal out of the room and back through the dank
corridors until the air finally began to clear as they reached the entrance.

“What do you think the manifest will show?” asked
Hal, once they were past the risk of being overheard.

“That a ship departed for points south, but the
manifest will not match the cargo.” Stapleton stopped for a moment, as if considering
whether to go back inside.  “I should beat the information out of him.”

“I’d like to help,” said Hal. 

“Unfortunately, a beaten man isn’t always truthful. 
And Rodgers would have to be beaten within an inch of his life if I even have a
hope of making him talk.”

Hal was beginning to think he would like to help
Stapleton do just that when they rounded the corner and almost collided with a
man.  The same one who’d become such a thorn in his side.

“Parker,” said Hal.  “What the devil are you doing here? 
And what happened to your face?”

Parker raised a brow at the questioning.  “I did not
realize I needed your permission to move about London, Kellington.  And the
streets of this miserable city are rather unsafe.”

Hal wanted nothing more than to plant the
insufferable man a facer.  Instead, he introduced Stapleton.  The Inspector was
in such a foul mood that perhaps he’d take out his frustrations on Parker.  One
could only hope.

“What brings you to Newgate, Mr. Parker?” asked
Stapleton.  “It’s an odd choice for a tourist.”

“I came at the behest of church leaders back home. 
They’re concerned about the treatment of women in prisons.  They thought I
might get some information from the gaolers here.”

“About the only information you’ll get from them is
how to abuse the women,” said Stapleton.  “It is one of the worst parts of our
prison system.”

“Nonetheless, I shall ask.  Inspector, Kellington.” 
With that, Parker turned on his heel and resumed his walk to the prison.

“I don’t suppose you could throw the tosser in
prison so he can get a taste of gaol from the inside, could you?” asked Hal.

“I’m afraid not.  And I don’t suppose your dislike
for the man has anything to do with your Miss Sutton, does it?”

“I swear, Stapleton, you’re as bad as my brothers,”
said Hal.  He looked across the muddy street and beckoned for his coachman to
bring the carriage around.  The streets were mired with traffic stuck in the
muck, so there would likely be a delay.  He decided to put the extra time to
good use by telling Stapleton about his blackmail problems.