Page 3 of Infernal Vices

CHAPTER 2

THE LAW

The chime of the doorbell made both Troy and I jump in our seats. Mr. Troy rose, bowed to me, and rushed out of the study to answer the door, but by the sound of it Wilkins got there before him. Troy returned a minute later with a uniformed police constable in tow. The officer of the law was tall, lanky, and baby-faced, with a smattering of the fluffy stubble that I associated with a late developer covering his jaw line. I supposed he was trying to grow a beard to appear older and more masculine. His dark blue Melton wool uniform looked new and the warrant number on his collar was 7074. He was regimentally smart and the Brunswick Star on his distinctive domed helmet glinted. A silver whistle hung from a button hole, and the buttons themselves were polished to a dazzling shine.

“Constable Atkins, this is my master, Mr. Benedict Hannan,” Troy introduced.

“Good morning sir, I h-understand that a crime ‘as been committed at this here h-establishment, is that correct?” Atkins asked. His accent was inner city cockney, yet he was attempting the correct diction and over doing it a little.

“Indeed, indeed,” I sighed resignedly slumping back into my captain’s chair. “My silver has been stolen by that…that blaggard—” I pontificated,

“—that Dandy Rogue fellow!”

The constable’s eyes widened at hearing that particular moniker. “A…are you sure, sir?” he demanded.

“Of course, I’m sure,” I blustered haughtily. “Mr. Troy here saw him escaping.” I turned to Troy and gave him a look.

“Yes…Yes, I saw him escaping out the back window into the garden. I tried to pull him back in, but ohh, he was a slippery fish!” Troy added. I was quite relieved that we were firmly on the same page!

I observed how light suddenly sparked in the bobby’s eyes. “I…I need to get a message to Scotland Yard!” he said excitedly. It was as if I could see the cogs turning in his mind at the thrill of being the first officer on the scene for the Gentleman Thief’s latest dastardly escapade. He took out his notebook, swiftly thumbing through it for a blank page and then scribbled on the notepaper.

“Shall I find a runner?” Mr. Troy queried. Constable Atkins folded the paper and passed it to Troy.

“Yes, and tell the boy to give this to Detective Inspector Dancer, no one else, it has to be Dancer!” he said urgently.

Troy nodded and left the study.

The constable continued to jot in his notebook, the scritch-scratch of his pencil sounding amplified in my silent study. I broke that silence with a question.

“Tell me constable, who is this Detective Inspector Dancer?”

Atkins continued note taking as he absently said, “Oh, he’s a toff.” The constable looked up from his notebook as if suddenly aware of whom he was talking to. “Begging your pardon, sir, no offence meant,” he simpered. “The Chief Commissioner himself just put Dancer on the Gentleman Thief case. Detective Inspector Dancer’s father is a Duke or some-such…up Northumberland way. He could ‘ave had the life of Riley, but he chose to be an honest working copper cos he believes in truth and justice. He’s a credit to our dear Queen, and an inspiration to us all, sir,” the officer said spiritedly, then unsolicited, he informed,

“The Chief Commissioner believes the Gentleman Thief’s a t—is well-to-do an’ all. Word is he’s been thieving from society gents for the thrill of it. Dancer knows all there is to know about this rogue,” he said with a grin, his chest expanding with pride.

I sat up straighter in my chair, and reached for a sheaf of writing paper and my pen. I could see that the young officer hero-worshipped this Detective Inspector Dancer.

“He knows all about him aye,” I grumbled as I began to write my first note, ”—apart from what the devil looks like or how to catch him,” I barked cuttingly, “The lack of progress on that ghastly Jack the Ripper case has tested my trust in the efficacy of the police force,” I sneered, “If Detective Inspector Abberline cannot bring a serial murderer to justice, I have little faith that this Detective Inspector Dancer can reprimand a mere cracksman!”

I glanced up and saw how Atkins pursed his lips sulkily and was silent for a moment before, fiercer he said, “Dancer will get his man; you mark my words, sir. He’s like a bloodhound and won’t stop until the thief is dangling from the gallows!”

Was my lie about to place Sebastian in the cross-hairs of a detective seeking a path to glory? A wave of fear ran through me. What had I done? I gulped and bit my lip, holding in a wince, and then I instinctively made the sign of the cross.

“Mr. Wilkins!” I called out as I heard the front door close. My houseman entered the study.

“I require another runner. These letters need to be delivered. One to my office, the other to my insurer’s office at 41 Lothbury,” I said as hastily penned the missives, pushed them into envelopes, addressed, and sealed them. I passed the envelopes to my houseman who left me alone with the wet-behind-the-ears constable.

“My insuring agent retains a book of photographs with valuations of all of my items. Every article in my silver cabinet can be matched to its photograph,” I informed.

“That will be very useful in helping us see what the toe-rag pilfered,” Atkins said excitedly. I knew it would be useful for Sebastian too. Euan stole from me because he needed money, fast. Sebastian had offered to use his contacts in the demimonde to discover where Euan sold my silver. He’d made himself scarce and would call at the house again after the police had left.

“I think a cup of tea would be in order while we wait for your hound. Would you mind telling Mrs. Twig to send a pot? You may sit with the servants in the kitchen.”

“Much obliged, sir,” the constable said before leaving the study and wandering down the hall towards the scent of baking scones.

****

Twenty minutes later by my mantle clock, I’d taken tea with a nip of brandy for my nerves, but I’d told Wilkins to delay breakfast until this nonsense was dealt with. I heard the loping tread of Constable Atkins approaching in the hall. He paused outside the study door and knocked.