Chapter 57

Each of the cast that had a job outside of the house set out. Later reports made me believe their activities went something like the following.

After Father John went into the Barkis’ private rooms and changed costumes, Barbary drove him to the offices of the Society for the Suppression of Vice. There he presented his credentials as a priest of the established church of Ireland, complete with a document from the Archbishop of Canterbury identifying him as a bishop. This bishop, two other clergymen, and four large-busted ladies enjoyed tea and small cakes. Barbary waited outside with his cab. While he waited, a second cab pulled up behind him. Barbary got down off his seat, as did the second driver.

“Tank ye fer comin’, cousin,” Barbary said. “Dey’ll be out ’bout half eleven. Dat should gets us ta da scene just as da action starts. Timin’ be important, ya knows.”

****

In Fleet Street, Dickens jumped down from yet another cab. “I’ll be but a moment. I need to collect a few fellows in here. You are Barbary’s cousin, then?”

“I be ’is second cousin, gov. They calls me Jingle. Donch ya worry now. I be right ’ere when ya is ready.”

“Jingle. I’ve heard that name somewhere before. Well, thank you, Jingle. I won’t be long. We certainly do not want to miss this performance. I understand the curtain will go up at exactly noon.” Within five minutes he was back with three young rowdy fellows. They piled into Jingle’s cab and passed around a flask as they started toward Spitalfields.

****

Blathers and I were already on stage. Barbary had dropped us at the house in Spitalfields before setting out to provide transportation to Father John and his companions. We met the rest of the cast assembled by Caddy Quale. Caddy and John Forster were on hand, as well. They, however, were not actors. Caddy was acting as producer and Forster was director. As soon as Act I started, they would have to be unseen by anyone. But when Blathers and I came through the door they were both busy with the arrangements. Caddy called us to a corner of the room where two young women, clothed only in their underwear, were standing. “Blathers and Duff, these two young ladies are, shall we say, business acquaintances of mine. This is Nell and this is Betty.”

The girls curtsied, holding aside skirts that weren’t there. Nell said, “We is pleased ta meech ya.” I felt flushed. Blathers ogled.

Quale said, “You understand the part that the girls play. Even though they are experienced professionals, they should not be required to provide any services that are not part of the plan.”

I, still feeling somewhat warm, said, “Oh, yes, we understand.” It seemed that Blathers wasn’t sure he could remember the details of the plan.

As noon drew near, Forster gathered the group together. “Indeed, I believe you all know your parts. Nell and Betty, you are sure of what you should do?”

“Donch ya worries ’bout us. We done this kind’a t’ing all our lives. Well, since we was twelve, anyway.” Nell wiggled her hips. Betty straightened her hose, rubbing her hands up and down her legs. She winked at Blathers as though she knew him from somewhere.

Forster said, “Blathers, you and Duff should go out now. Blathers! Blathers do you hear me?”

My partner shook his head as though to wake himself from a trance. His face reddened. “Oh, yes, yes. We is a-goin’ now. Come on, there, Duff. Pays attention ta what’s happenin’.”

I raised my eyebrows, shrugged my shoulders, and followed Blathers up the stairway to the next floor. We went down a back stair, two stories, to the main floor of the building, where a door opened onto the back street. We hurried down the street behind the gin shop just as Barbary and his first cousin pulled their cabs to the side of the road. Blathers and I went around the corner and turned at the next corner again. Then, as we passed the gin shop, our pace slowed. We turned into the alley and climbed the steps to the main entrance of the house. We knew someone watched from a coach parked opposite the gin shop. We knocked. John Forster let us in.

Forster continued to set the stage. “Very good, then. The final piece of business is to bring in the last prop. Is it here, Caddy?”

Caddy went to a closet in a back corner of the room. He opened the door, and the body of the slain costermonger tumbled onto the floor.