[Sir John Fielding 11] - Rules of Engagement by Bruce Alexander

Author:Bruce Alexander [Alexander, Bruce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, British Detectives, Historical
ISBN: 0399152423
Google: BeMkmS89ixwC
Amazon: B000OCXJNO
Barnesnoble: B000OCXJNO
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2005-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

In which we attend a fire

and comfort its near victims

As I recall, it was a specially warm night. I might have slept unaware through it all had I not thrown open the window just before retiring early. What time might it have been when I first smelled the smoke? Four o’clock, perhaps— yet no earlier, for when I pushed my head far out the window to search for the source of the smoke, I spied a band of faint light on the eastern horizon—first light it was. Near as I could tell, it was coming from some far corner of Covent Garden. There were selling stalls, carts, all manner of inflammable stuff.

Wasting no time in attempting to locate the fire more precisely, I dressed quickly and went running down the stairs to the floor below.

“Fire in Covent Garden!” I shouted the alarum, and then did I repeat it: “Fire in Covent Garden!”

I heard someone stumbling about in the big bedroom. The door came open, and there stood Sir John in his nightshirt.

“Is it anywhere close?”

“No, sir, it doesn’t seem to be so. It’s off in a corner near King Street—or perhaps St. Paul’s.”

“Well, go down and get Mr. Baker’s opinion. We shall all dress and be ready to leave in the meantime.” (Owing to his blindness, there was naught which made him quite so uneasy as the threat of fire.) “Oh dear, St. Paul’s, is it?” he added. “That could be quite disastrous.”

“Just a guess, Sir John,” said I as I made my way to the kitchen and pulled open the door to the downstairs area. Throwing myself recklessly at the stairs, I nearly collided with Mr. Baker at the bottom as he returned from Bow Street.

“Jeremy!” he exclaimed. “You’ve come to see the show, have you?”

“Just a show, is it? Not much danger?”

“In truth, it don’t look like it. I do believe they’ll have it put out in just a few minutes.” I turned and started back up the stairs. But Mr. Baker called me back. “Hi, Jeremy, not quite so fast. If you’re going back up to report to Sir John, tell him that what’s burnin’ don’t amount to much. ’Tis just a kind of a wagon that opened up into a patent medicine shop.”

Why, that sounded like Mr. Deekin’s wagon! What rotten luck for him!

“But there’s more,” Mr. Baker insisted. “We got him who set the fire.”

“You do? So soon?”

“Aye! He was running away from it down King Street, carrying rock oil and all what’s needed to start a nice big fire. He ran right into the arms of Constable Brede, and Brede brought him here. You can take a look at him if you want to, though he ain’t much to see. He’s right down there in the strong room.”

“No thanks, I must get upstairs and tell Sir John what you’ve told me.”

Which I did most immediate. All were up and awake and awaiting me, Sir John listened carefully to my report, which I repeated quite exact, much of it in Mr.

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