Chapter 14

“How is we fixed fer ready cash?” Blathers asked. I am in charge of the partnership finances, as I have had a bit of schooling in the practice of accounting.

“We still have quite a bit left from our work for the Vice Society, but we need to make it stretch, in case we fail to earn a reward in this case.”

“Does we have enough ta get a cab back ta the Black Lion? I is feelin’ the need fer a brandy. There’s a real chill in me bones, and me feet is still killin’ me.”

I hailed a cab at the corner, and we rode in comfort to the inn, where Mrs. Clara Peggotty Barkis waited patiently for word of the pearl necklace. “Come in out of the cold and damp, and sit by the fire. Have ya found the jewels?”

“Not as yet, Mrs. Barkis,” I reported. “But we still have grand hopes.”

“I’m happy you stopped by, because I’m some confused by what I read in The Times. It says here the man killed in Spitalfields was named Benjamin Allen.”

I said, “Didn’t the lady say his name was John?”

Blathers said, “Clara, me dear, afore we gets into the case, can ya gets a little somethin’ ta quell the chill?”

“Brandy and tea, as usual?”

“Brandy and tea it is, and thank ya very much.”

Clara served the beverages. Of course, since Barkis, himself, was not on the premises, she included “a wee drop of brandy” for herself.

After the first taste was disposed of, she asked. “Well, gentlemen, where do we go from here? Do you have any explanation for John being called Benjamin?”

I answered, “This is the first we have heard of it. Do you still have the paper, Mrs. Barkis?”

“It’s right here. It is just a short piece, you see.” She handed the paper to Blathers, and he handed it to me.

“Why doesn’t ya read it ta us, Duff.”

I read the short news item: “The Metropolitan Police found one Mr. Benjamin Allen of Dublin, Ireland, dead in rooms that had been let to him in Spitalfields. He was shot in the back of the head at close range. The police suspect the death was an execution committed by some nefarious gang of criminals. The area is known to be headquarters for various criminal and anarchist groups.”

“Oh! How could my lady ever have gotten mixed up in this sort of thing?”

I said, “Mrs. Barkis, I think we need to meet again with the lady. Why did she think that her lov-, I mean, her friend’s name was John? You’d think at least he would use his right first name. The pearls are still missing, and if we are to get them back we need to have more information. Can you arrange a meeting for later today?”

“I’ll send off a note right away. I’ll try for a time around four. Will that be all right?”

“That will be fine, Mrs. Barkis. Now, Blathers, what say we try to run down Jerry Cruncher, and see if you can work your magic with him. I’ll bet he can tell us a lot more about what the Peelers think about this case than the newspaper can.”

“Ah, that young dumbbell. His father, Old Jerry, used to run messages in the City by day and rob graves by night. I’m s’prised Young Jerry didn’t foller in the same business. I think he’s in’erited his father’s dumbness.”