prostitute was about to protest at being brought to the police station yet again.
‘Course I do, Mr ’Ardcastle,’ said the girl.
‘Then listen carefully, lass. This is what I want you to do.’
When Hardcastle had finished, Ruby Hoskins grinned broadly. ‘It’ll be a pleasure, Mr ’Ardcastle, and that’s no error,’ she said.
‘D’you reckon the other girls will be willing to play along?’
‘You can bet your last brass farthing on it, guv’nor. In fact, it’ll be a job stopping them. They can be very nasty when the mood takes a hold of ’em.’
‘Good. Well, I’m relying on you, Ruby.’
Hardcastle sent for Wood and Wilmot again.
‘Get yourselves down to Victoria station and keep an eye on the toms there. With any luck, Sir Royston Naylor will show up and proposition Sarah Cotton. Once that happens, this is what I want you to do.’ The DDI went on to explain what he had arranged with Ruby Hoskins, and what he required of Wood and Wilmot. ‘You’d better take Catto with you, Wood. He knows what Sarah Cotton looks like. But once he’s pointed her out to you, send him back here. I don’t want him hanging about and making a Mons of things.’
SEVEN
D etective Sergeant Wood and Detective Constable Wilmot had been standing beneath the portico of the Victoria Palace Theatre since eight o’clock. It was a vantage point from which they had a good view of the prostitutes gathered on the corner of Wilton Road.
Most of the women were chatting noisily among themselves, and from time to time glancing expectantly towards the railway station. Presumably they had heard of the imminent arrival of a troop train. But DS Wood, being a resourceful officer, had checked with the railway police, and learned that one was due to come in at nine o’clock. He hoped that Naylor would arrive on the scene before then, otherwise there was a danger that the women would scatter in search of soldiers.
He need not have worried, however. At a quarter to nine the two detectives’ patience was rewarded. With his cane tap-tapping the pavement, the figure of Sir Royston Naylor strolled nonchalantly towards the assembled women from the direction of St James’s Park. Without further ado, he made straight for Sarah Cotton and began to talk to her. From what the chauffeur had told him yesterday morning, Wood guessed that Naylor had probably dined at the Carlton Club; that was certainly the direction from which he had come. Not that it mattered where he had been.
There was an immediate uproar as the prostitutes surrounded Naylor and Sarah Cotton and began shouting abuse. Completely taken aback by the sudden onslaught, Naylor dropped his walking stick – it bore a knob shaped like the head of a dog – and attempted to distance himself from the coarse screaming of the aggressive women encircling him.
As Hardcastle had hoped, Ruby Hoskins appointed herself ringleader. ‘’Ere, you leave her alone, mate. Sarah don’t want no truck with you,’ she cried, and started to belabour Naylor with her umbrella. Sarah Cotton, who had not been made privy to Hardcastle’s plan, appeared utterly bemused by the sudden furore that had developed around her. She took a step back intent upon removing herself from the unseemly fracas, but a couple of the other girls made sure she did not escape, and pushed her back towards the centre of the contrived disturbance.
‘Get away from me, you whore,’ yelled Naylor in panic, as he tried to defend himself against Ruby’s blows. He then made the mistake of pushing her away, accidentally putting his hand on her breast as he did so.
‘’Ere, did you see that?’ screeched Ruby to her mates. ‘He tried to touch me up. It’s an assault, that’s what it is. Fetch a copper; I want ’im nicked.’ She poked Naylor in the chest. ‘You’re a bloody pervert, mate, that’s what you are.’
Seven or eight of the prostitutes encircled Naylor and began to pummel him with their fists, while others
‘Course I do, Mr ’Ardcastle,’ said the girl.
‘Then listen carefully, lass. This is what I want you to do.’
When Hardcastle had finished, Ruby Hoskins grinned broadly. ‘It’ll be a pleasure, Mr ’Ardcastle, and that’s no error,’ she said.
‘D’you reckon the other girls will be willing to play along?’
‘You can bet your last brass farthing on it, guv’nor. In fact, it’ll be a job stopping them. They can be very nasty when the mood takes a hold of ’em.’
‘Good. Well, I’m relying on you, Ruby.’
Hardcastle sent for Wood and Wilmot again.
‘Get yourselves down to Victoria station and keep an eye on the toms there. With any luck, Sir Royston Naylor will show up and proposition Sarah Cotton. Once that happens, this is what I want you to do.’ The DDI went on to explain what he had arranged with Ruby Hoskins, and what he required of Wood and Wilmot. ‘You’d better take Catto with you, Wood. He knows what Sarah Cotton looks like. But once he’s pointed her out to you, send him back here. I don’t want him hanging about and making a Mons of things.’
SEVEN
D etective Sergeant Wood and Detective Constable Wilmot had been standing beneath the portico of the Victoria Palace Theatre since eight o’clock. It was a vantage point from which they had a good view of the prostitutes gathered on the corner of Wilton Road.
Most of the women were chatting noisily among themselves, and from time to time glancing expectantly towards the railway station. Presumably they had heard of the imminent arrival of a troop train. But DS Wood, being a resourceful officer, had checked with the railway police, and learned that one was due to come in at nine o’clock. He hoped that Naylor would arrive on the scene before then, otherwise there was a danger that the women would scatter in search of soldiers.
He need not have worried, however. At a quarter to nine the two detectives’ patience was rewarded. With his cane tap-tapping the pavement, the figure of Sir Royston Naylor strolled nonchalantly towards the assembled women from the direction of St James’s Park. Without further ado, he made straight for Sarah Cotton and began to talk to her. From what the chauffeur had told him yesterday morning, Wood guessed that Naylor had probably dined at the Carlton Club; that was certainly the direction from which he had come. Not that it mattered where he had been.
There was an immediate uproar as the prostitutes surrounded Naylor and Sarah Cotton and began shouting abuse. Completely taken aback by the sudden onslaught, Naylor dropped his walking stick – it bore a knob shaped like the head of a dog – and attempted to distance himself from the coarse screaming of the aggressive women encircling him.
As Hardcastle had hoped, Ruby Hoskins appointed herself ringleader. ‘’Ere, you leave her alone, mate. Sarah don’t want no truck with you,’ she cried, and started to belabour Naylor with her umbrella. Sarah Cotton, who had not been made privy to Hardcastle’s plan, appeared utterly bemused by the sudden furore that had developed around her. She took a step back intent upon removing herself from the unseemly fracas, but a couple of the other girls made sure she did not escape, and pushed her back towards the centre of the contrived disturbance.
‘Get away from me, you whore,’ yelled Naylor in panic, as he tried to defend himself against Ruby’s blows. He then made the mistake of pushing her away, accidentally putting his hand on her breast as he did so.
‘’Ere, did you see that?’ screeched Ruby to her mates. ‘He tried to touch me up. It’s an assault, that’s what it is. Fetch a copper; I want ’im nicked.’ She poked Naylor in the chest. ‘You’re a bloody pervert, mate, that’s what you are.’
Seven or eight of the prostitutes encircled Naylor and began to pummel him with their fists, while others
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