sure.’ He coughed, a shallow, rattling sound, and dabbed at his mouth with the handkerchief.
‘Have you spoken to the new police?’
‘Of course. I was taken aback when I found that so little had been done – indeed, nothing at all – to pursue Mr Wedderburn’s murderer. And then to hear some days later that a similar crime had taken place barely half a mile away – I felt I must take the matter up. I first spoke about the murders to a constable on the Strand, then to another who walks Monmouth Street by Seven Dials. As a rule I enjoy good relations with the new police, the constables know me. When I pressed them, both more or less admitted that nothing more would be done. And so I went to Bow Street station and was given short shrift. They said I should not bother them.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There was no doubt in my mind that they did not want to know about the connection between the two deaths. I was shocked. I know there is no love lost between the new police and the people around here – but I considered the police honest and did not think that they would go so far as to leave a monster upon the streets.’
‘A monster?’
‘If you had seen Nat Wedderburn’s body, what had been done to it, you could not but believe that it was the work of some godless monster.’
‘Do you have any thoughts on their inaction?’
He shook his head. ‘The Bible says, “Deliver the poor and needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked” and “Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.”’
‘Do the poor cry?’
‘Have you not heard? And if it were not enough, in the streetsthey are saying it was some supernatural sprite, Spring-Heeled Jack or somesuch, come to take souls to hell. All the foolish superstition against which we fight is resurrected by this dreadful crime.’
‘The people in Holywell Street are very reluctant to speak of the murder at all.’
‘I believe they are frightened.’
‘Of whom?’
‘Oh, I mean of the murder. They would rather not think of it. What do you mean?’
‘I meant, someone has told them not to speak of it.’
‘I had not thought of that. It is, I suppose, a possibility.’
‘Who would have the power to frighten a street into silence?’
Dearlove looked perplexed. ‘I do not know. The printers in Holywell Street work for themselves and jostle with each other for crumbs.’
I filled the kettle, and helped him haul it on to the hook over the fire.
‘I suppose Dugdale is something of a bully and likes to give himself airs. There are, of course, the criminal gangs who inhabit the courts behind Drury Lane, but I believe they remain in the courts; I know little of them in any case – my task is to bring God and learning. But I would be most surprised if Mr Wedderburn had any dealings with them.’
‘What about Eldred Woundy?’ said Blake.
‘Who?’ Dearlove shook his head. ‘The newspaper proprietor? Why should he take an interest?’ He knelt down to start the fire.
Blake changed the subject. ‘Did you not say at the coroner’s court that Mr Wedderburn deserved his fate?’
‘I said his death was the Lord’s judgement.’
‘Because of what he did, or what he believed?’
Dearlove twisted round awkwardly to look at Blake. ‘He was a godless man. He called himself an infidel. His publications corrupted the mind. He laughed in the face of the Lord.’ He lowered his voice again. ‘That does not mean I would wish such a death upon him. And I was happy to teach his children. He understoodthe importance of reading and writing and they would send the little ones to me from time to time.’
‘How did you hear of Blundell’s death?’
‘From a woman in the rookeries off Seven Dials. She told me that a man had been murdered, and that when the body was found a candle was brought into the shop and all caught fire. I work for the London City Mission. We strive to bring the gospel into the darkest
‘Have you spoken to the new police?’
‘Of course. I was taken aback when I found that so little had been done – indeed, nothing at all – to pursue Mr Wedderburn’s murderer. And then to hear some days later that a similar crime had taken place barely half a mile away – I felt I must take the matter up. I first spoke about the murders to a constable on the Strand, then to another who walks Monmouth Street by Seven Dials. As a rule I enjoy good relations with the new police, the constables know me. When I pressed them, both more or less admitted that nothing more would be done. And so I went to Bow Street station and was given short shrift. They said I should not bother them.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There was no doubt in my mind that they did not want to know about the connection between the two deaths. I was shocked. I know there is no love lost between the new police and the people around here – but I considered the police honest and did not think that they would go so far as to leave a monster upon the streets.’
‘A monster?’
‘If you had seen Nat Wedderburn’s body, what had been done to it, you could not but believe that it was the work of some godless monster.’
‘Do you have any thoughts on their inaction?’
He shook his head. ‘The Bible says, “Deliver the poor and needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked” and “Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.”’
‘Do the poor cry?’
‘Have you not heard? And if it were not enough, in the streetsthey are saying it was some supernatural sprite, Spring-Heeled Jack or somesuch, come to take souls to hell. All the foolish superstition against which we fight is resurrected by this dreadful crime.’
‘The people in Holywell Street are very reluctant to speak of the murder at all.’
‘I believe they are frightened.’
‘Of whom?’
‘Oh, I mean of the murder. They would rather not think of it. What do you mean?’
‘I meant, someone has told them not to speak of it.’
‘I had not thought of that. It is, I suppose, a possibility.’
‘Who would have the power to frighten a street into silence?’
Dearlove looked perplexed. ‘I do not know. The printers in Holywell Street work for themselves and jostle with each other for crumbs.’
I filled the kettle, and helped him haul it on to the hook over the fire.
‘I suppose Dugdale is something of a bully and likes to give himself airs. There are, of course, the criminal gangs who inhabit the courts behind Drury Lane, but I believe they remain in the courts; I know little of them in any case – my task is to bring God and learning. But I would be most surprised if Mr Wedderburn had any dealings with them.’
‘What about Eldred Woundy?’ said Blake.
‘Who?’ Dearlove shook his head. ‘The newspaper proprietor? Why should he take an interest?’ He knelt down to start the fire.
Blake changed the subject. ‘Did you not say at the coroner’s court that Mr Wedderburn deserved his fate?’
‘I said his death was the Lord’s judgement.’
‘Because of what he did, or what he believed?’
Dearlove twisted round awkwardly to look at Blake. ‘He was a godless man. He called himself an infidel. His publications corrupted the mind. He laughed in the face of the Lord.’ He lowered his voice again. ‘That does not mean I would wish such a death upon him. And I was happy to teach his children. He understoodthe importance of reading and writing and they would send the little ones to me from time to time.’
‘How did you hear of Blundell’s death?’
‘From a woman in the rookeries off Seven Dials. She told me that a man had been murdered, and that when the body was found a candle was brought into the shop and all caught fire. I work for the London City Mission. We strive to bring the gospel into the darkest
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