Chapter 9 #2
Gus pointed a beefy finger at Clayton. “Don’t go getting no ideas, Clay. O’Briens said to stay away, and we will stay away. It ain’t our business what noises come out of his house.”
Clayton glared back. “Why are you only pointing at me? Sam’s the one who brought it up.”
Gus let out a loud, pained sigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you the secret. But you got to swear not to let Paddy and Maggie know I told you.”
All three boys leaned forward, eyes wide.
“He eats babes for breakfast. No one’s ever been able to catch him, so the adults make sure us kids stay far away from him.
” Gus leaned back against the trunk of the tree, his arms crossed over his wide chest. “You can imagine what he’d do with bigger ones.
Put ‘em on a spit and roast ‘em for supper.”
“August,” Cook called from the back door, “Mrs. O’Brien needs ye.”
Gus stood, towering over the boys. Although Sam was older, he knew better than to cross Gus, especially when he seemed so serious. “Remember what I said and stay away from there.”
Later that night, sitting outside in the dusk, Sam heard the noise again, and his stomach clenched.
“Was that what you were talking about?” Ben whispered.
“It sounds like babies crying,” Clayton said in a half whisper. “Do you think we should take a look?”
Ben shook his head. “You heard what Gus told us. We can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
Clayton squinted at the dark form of the neighbor’s house. “What if we went when Wheeler was gone?”
Sam brightened. “That’s right. It would be safe as long as he was gone.”
Ben wasn’t convinced. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. If we get caught, Maggie really will take a switch to us.”
“You’ve got as much courage as baby Nora.” Clayton grinned. “You stay here and suck on your thumb. Me and Sam will go save the babes. We’ll be heroes.”
“You’ll be dead heroes on a spit.” Ben stuck his chin out.
“What if we don’t do anything, and he gets Nora somehow?” asked Sam, his chest tightening at the thought.
Ben thought about it, his eyes growing wide. “How do we know if he’s gone?”
“Simple. If there ain’t no lights on in the house, he’s gone,” Clayton said matter-of-factly.
Clay fetched a candle, and the boys walked around the house but saw no lights. They snuck down the stairs to the cellar and tried the door. It was locked, but with a bit of jigging and a handy piece of wire, it was soon open.
Clay led the way as they followed the soft cries.
Sam’s heart pounded so loud that he was sure Gus would hear it next door.
But what they found astonished them more than a dozen babes could have.
In a box with a blanket was a small terrier with a litter of tiny pups.
They squirmed against their mama’s belly, eyes barely open.
“Puppies!” cried all three boys, crowding around the box and petting both the mother and her squirming babies.
“So this is where you disappeared to Sadie,” said Clay. “I thought she’d run away because the old man was so mean.”
“I want one,” said Sam, tickling the ear of the runt. It was black and white, and it latched on to Sam’s fingertip, sucking with gusto.
“Won’t get nothin’ out of there,” Ben said with a laugh.
“What in the devil are you nodcocks doing here?” rasped a voice behind them.
They froze, and Sam closed his eyes, fear freezing his bones. He vaguely wondered what Maggie would do when none of them returned home.
“W-we thought you w-were…” Ben swallowed hard.
“Were what? Speak up, you dirty little curs.” Old Man Wheeler raised his fist, waving his walking stick at them.
“We thought we heard babies down here,” said Clayton, his voice tremulous.
“Why would I have squealing infants here when I don’t even have a wife?” griped the old man.
“Because you eat them for breakfast!” cried Sam.
“You’ll never get our sister. Never!” added Ben. “RUN!”
Clayton took the lead again. As he put out a hand to push the old man out of their path, Wheeler stepped back, placing his cane on each backside as they passed. The boys howled up the steps and ran for the safety of home.
“You had nerves of steel even as a boy,” Sam said to Clayton. “I thought we’d be roasted and our bones tossed in the alley.”
“The look on the old goat’s face when he found us playing with the pups.” Ben pretended a shiver. “My legal mind shudders at the thought of the laws we broke. Breaking and entering, theft—”
“I really wanted that little black and white puppy,” Sam remembered, his shoulders shaking. “Instead, we received a scolding and no supper that night.”
“I thought we were going to get away with it until Dublin started howling when we came running from the cellar. Of course, Paddy was just coming home.” Clayton shook his head. “He was soooo angry with us.”
They sat in silence for a bit, each remembering their own version of the childhood tale.
“There’s been a development in the Ferguson case,” Clayton said, ending the quiet.
“The man found in the Thames?” asked Ben. “A shame that happened when he’d tried to escape his criminal past.”
“Sometimes regret comes too late,” Sam agreed. “What’s come up?”
Clayton let out a long sigh. “It seems Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson also had a young daughter. The landlady is worried for her and wanted us to see if we could find her.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard. A young girl, one of hundreds, wandering the streets. I’m sure you’ll find her by morning,” quipped Ben.
“Ha-ha! I asked Roger to ask around about the girl. He has plenty of connections and comes from the rookery.” Roger Lynch was a newcomer to the O’Brien clan.
Walters had intervened when the lad had been attacked in an alley.
Paddy had hired the boy to do odd jobs, chauffeur the ladies, and whatever else might be needed at any given time.
Just sixteen, Roger had a strong fist and was trying to work his way up to a Peeler.
“How’s he working out? I put over a dozen stitches in that arm when Harry found him that night,” said Sam.
“We keep him busy, especially Maggie. And Paddy is thrilled because he doesn’t have to go shopping anymore.
I see potential in him.” Clayton got up and poured himself more port and held up the decanter to his brothers.
Both nodded and he refilled their glasses.
“I wonder about the mother’s death. It’s not that unusual for a robbery to go wrong and the victim end up dead.
Especially if they put up a fight. But it’s the timing. I had Eli take a look at the report.”
Eli was the only Peeler still working for Bow Street. He had easy—and legal, as Ben always emphasized—access to the reports filed.
“Seems she was murdered just after Ferguson quit working for The Vicar. Like I said, it’s not how she died but when she died. A warning? A punishment?” Clayton shook his head. “I pray that little girl is somewhere safe.”