Chapter 7

Blathers and I left the gin shop without partaking of the beverages purveyed by the establishment. “Weren’t you thirsty?”

“I only takes me drinks in nice clean ’stablishments like the Black Lion.”

“It wasn’t so clean when Squod owned it.”

“I know, but Squod weren’t chargin’ fer the drinks. That lout Conway would make me pay.”

“The Black Lion is much cleaner now that Mr. and Mrs. Barkis own it.”

“It’s lovely, and I shall continue ta drink there as long as Mrs. Barkis ain’t chargin’, or them writer fellas is payin’.”

We walked toward the house that was the scene of the murder of the man that the lady had called John. The Times reported that the police had not yet identified the victim.

As we approached, I said, “Do you think the pearls are still in the house?”

“I doubts it, but we’ll have ta take a look.”

A Bobbie stood on guard outside the front entrance.

“Does ya know that lad, Duff?”

“I think it’s Young Cruncher. You remember his dad, Old Jerry, the resurrection man.”

Blathers said, “I do. Hello, Young Jerry Cruncher. Is that you in them shiny buttons?”

“’Tis me, Mr. Blathers. What’s ya doin’ ’ere in Spitalfields?”

I said, “We are just passing through. Do you remember me, Young Cruncher?”

“I does, Mr. Duff. Is ya two still partners, then?”

“We are. It seems neither of us can get by without the other, strange as that may be.”

“Ah, ya two was a legend at the Runners, wasn’t ya. It’s ’prisin’ ta all you didn’t join the Peelers.”

“We did for a while, but Sir Robert’s ideas and our ideas just didn’t mix.” It is, of course, a longer story than that, but Young Jerry needed a simple answer.

Jerry went on, “All me mates is sayin’ as ’ow the real ’prising thing is the two of ya is partners, at all. Ya don’t seem ta ’ave much in common, does ya.”

Blathers said, “We gets along, and that’s all ya and your mates needs ta know. Now, tell us why is ya standin’ in front o’ this here house, Young Jerry?”

“Ah, there’s been a murder ’ere, ’asn’t there. Me gov ’as told me ta stand ’ere and not let a’body enter, donch ya see.”

“Now that’s a shame, isn’t it, Duff? Here we is standin’ in front o’ a house where a murder has been committed, and we can’t go in. And us in the detective business and all. I bet if we had a wee peek we could see somethin’ that would help solve the murder.”

I caught Blathers’ wink and went along with the game. “Oh, yes, yes. And if we saw something that would solve the crime, we could tell Young Jerry here, and he could tell his gov and get promoted on the spot.”

“Think o’ it, Young Jerry, no more standin’ round on the street, a big desk at the Yard, people thinkin’ o’ ya as a great detective. All for one wee peek, Jerry me boy.”

Jerry’s eyes widened, and a broad smile crossed his face. He must have been picturing himself as a famous detective. “I guesses, seein’ as ’ow ya is detectives, it wouldn’t ’urt for ya ta ’ave one quick look. But ya wouldn’t tell me gov, would ya? I’d be in big trouble, donch ya see.”

We hurried up the walkway before Jerry could change his mind, although there was little chance of that. The young constable had an odd look on his face, probably dreaming about his future as Sir Jerry, head of Scotland Yard.

The door was unlocked. Scotland Yard must have had great faith in their constables. I said, “Let’s start with the bedroom. It’s the most likely place the lady would have left them.”

Blathers said, “And don’t forget to look at everything with your mind’s eye.”

Blathers and I had learned a few things during our time as policemen. The techniques of searching a house, so no one would know we had done so, is one of them. We were methodical and careful, but doing a proper job required more time than Jerry thought of as a “wee peek,” because he soon poked his head in the door. “I thinks ya should leave now. I takes it ya ’aven’t found a clue ta solve this ’ere case.”

“We are just about through, Jerry. We will only be about five more minutes,” I said.

Blathers added, “Now don’t you worry, Young Jerry. We’ll never tell your governor about this at all. Just give us the time we needs. That’s a good lad.”

“But, donch ya see, if me gov comes along ta check on me and finds ya ’ere, I’ll be back workin’ wi’ me da.”

“You keep a good lookout there, Jerry lad, and if your gov is comin’ ’long, just say, good ’n loud, ‘Go’day, sir.’ We’ll be out the back door ’fore his foot hits the path.”

Jerry was distraught. “Please, please ’urry, and gets out o’ ’ere soon as ya can.”

We carefully continued our search. Another fifteen minutes passed. Jerry paced up and down in front of the building like a little boy desperately in need of a bathroom.

Soon he came to the front door again, stepped in, and shut the door. “Please gets out o’ ’ere right now, and use the back door. There’s someone a lurkin’ on the corner, donch ya see. It’s not me gov, but I doesn’t really knows who ’e is, and I doesn’t like ’im watchin’ me.”

Blathers hurried to the front window and looked up to the corner. “Are we through here then, Duff?”

“We are.”

“Then let’s get outa here. There’s a gent in a black greatcoat wi’ the collar turned up watchin’ this house.”

“Sorry, Jerry, we didn’t find anything, but don’t worry. Nobody will ever know we were here, that is, if you don’t mention it to anyone.”

“Come on, Duff. Out this way. We’ll make it up ta ya, Young Jerry.”

Blathers and I scurried down the alley toward the corner where the stranger was stationed. When we got there, however, he was gone. He had walked to the house to talk to Constable Cruncher. Jerry was shaking his head vehemently and pointing down the street, as if to tell the stranger to be on his way. The stranger took something out of his pocket and held it out to Jerry. Jerry’s head started shaking faster, and now he was stamping his feet, and he had his hand on his baton. The stranger shrugged and began walking back toward us. We ducked behind the buildings and watched. The stranger turned at the cross street.

When we were sure he was gone, we once again, accosted poor Jerry Cruncher. “Who were that man?” Blathers demanded.

“Oh, me, oh, my, I’m gonna get in big trouble o’er this job. I don’t know who ’e were. Donch ya see, tha’s why I chased ’im away. Now I’m gonna chase you two away, as well. I can’t be seen talkin’ to ever’body what comes down the street, now can I.”

I said, “Now Jerry, we’re not just anyone. You know us, and you should want to help us.”

“Right,” Blathers added. “Ya should want ta help us solve this here crime so as ta get some push wi’ your gov. Besides, ya doesn’t want ta make us angry. We might just not be as careful about talkin’ about how ya already let us in the house.”

Jerry took a deep breath. “A’right, a’right, but I doesn’t know who ’e were. ’E sees ya go in, and ’e comes o’er ta find out who ya was. I told ’im ya was detectives from the Peelers, and was conductin’ a routine ’vestigation, as I ’as been taught ta say. Then I chases ’im ’way right off, don’t I. Now would ya please go ’way an’ leave me ’lone, please, please.”

“Okay, Young Jerry, we’re goin’, but we might has ta come back, ya see. How long does ya think ya will be standin’ guard here then?”

“I ’opes not too much longer. I think they ’as collected all the bits and pieces what they needs, specially if you fellers ’asn’t found noffink. Donch ya see, there’s noffink more ta find.”

Blathers said, “That, Jerry me lad, ’pends upon where ya looks and what ya is lookin’ fer.”