DL0.2 The Piccadilly Pickpocket by Karen Charlton

Author:Karen Charlton [Charlton, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Short Story
Amazon: B00Y3KKHGA
Publisher: Famelton Publishing
Published: 2015-05-21T05:00:00+00:00

It was still dark when Lavender returned to Bow Street the next day. The hallway of the Police Office was packed with twenty hard-faced and powerfully built men. It reeked with the acrid stench of gunpowder, wet horse and male body odour. Dragged out early from their beds, many were unshaven and scowling. A deep, underlying growl – interspersed with the occasional curse or short burst of ribald laughter – emanated from the crowd. Metal handcuffs were distributed and glinted in the dying candlelight. Several bleary-eyed horse patrol officers leaned against the walls, priming their pistols, their boots and uniforms splattered with the mud of the outlying roads of the capital where they had spent the night on patrol.

Magistrate Read was taking no chances. Every available man at Bow Street had been called in to participate in the dawn raid on the rookery of St. Giles. They made a formidable sight gathered together in the gloomy and chilly hallway; even the dark shadows they cast on the walls and flag-stoned floor were elongated and menacing.

It was every available man – except one, Lavender realised as he scanned the crowd. There was no sign of Ned Woods. He had hoped that Read would have relented by now and invited his constable back to work. Swallowing his disappointment, he pushed his way through the crowd to the staircase.

Several of his fellow detectives, Vickery, McManus and Donaldson, were gathered with Townsend and Magistrate Read in a group on the bottom rungs of the stairs. Vickery and Donaldson nodded to him as he approached. Their dark, sombre attire contrasted with the blue great coats and red waistcoats of the constables and Townsend’s creased light-coloured kerseymere breeches and battered white hat. Elevated to the rank of detective because of their sharp investigative skills and courage, these men were the best detectives in Britain. Lavender knew that several of his peers regarded Townsend with the same disdain as him but at the moment they were stood in silence as the eccentric detective stood a few steps up and related the dramatic events of the past two days. McManus seemed particularly enthralled. Vickery leaned back against the handrail of the stairs, arms folded across his chest, quietly eyeing the older detective.

‘You were a saphead to let the Prince be robbed while you were on duty, Townsend,’ said McManus with a smirk.

‘It’ll reflect badly on all of us at Bow Street, if we don’t solve this case,’ Magistrate Read interrupted. McManus shuffled uncomfortably and the grin fell from his face. Vickery stood up straighter.

‘And God only knows how many other poor innocent souls will be attacked by that gang before this is over,’ Townsend said, unabashed. ‘’Tis essential we round up these coves today.’

‘Morning, Lavender,’ Read said. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Oh you’re here now, are you, Lavender?’ Townsend interrupted. His tone suggested that Lavender was late. ‘Then I suppose that we’d be better get goin’.’ He climbed up a couple more steps and raised his voice over the buzz of the crowd.

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