The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [14]
Pyke allowed Vines’s words to settle before he said, ‘Even a man of Peel’s undoubted ambition would not consider a mutilated newborn to be some kind of political gift.’
Vines reddened. ‘Yes, well, I’m sure you know what I meant.’
‘Pyke’s right,’ Fox said. ‘Whether Peel will exploit the situation for his own purposes is not for us to speculate. For now, I fear we have more pressing issues of public order to deal with.’ He looked up at Vines. ‘I take it the building and its perimeter have been secured and the mob outside placated?’
Sullenly, Vines said it had been taken care of. He explained that two of his men, Goddard and Townsend, were questioning the residents, particularly those who roomed on the upper floor, and any pertinent information would be relayed back to him. Pyke was tempted to ask how Goddard and Townsend would know what information was pertinent or otherwise but he kept his silence. He also knew for a fact that Goddard and Townsend were, by no means, Vines’s men.
‘Good, well, perhaps we should start by paying some attention to the three victims. That would seem to me to be a matter of enormous sensitivity.’ Fox turned to Pyke. ‘Have you managed to identify them yet?’
Pyke realised Vines had not yet grasped the significance of Fox’s concerns and he was not about to make it easy for him.
‘The landlady, Miss Clamp, told me that the building has five rooms on the top floor she rents out to lodgers. All of them are a good deal larger than the one hired by the victims. Most have seven or eight people sharing, each person paying two shillings a week. This room, on account of its size, went for four shillings in total. The two victims shared it with another girl. Young and pretty, according to Miss Clamp. She didn’t know the girl’s name but had overheard rumours to the effect that she might be the dead woman’s cousin. Miss Clamp gave us a good description, though, and the men downstairs are looking for her as we speak.’
‘There was a girl who shared the room with them,’ Fox said, sounding aggrieved. ‘You say a cousin?’ He rubbed the ends of his moustache, as though deep in thought.
‘According to the landlady.’
‘And she’s downstairs, as we speak?’
‘Townsend and Goddard are looking for her downstairs, as we speak,’ Pyke corrected him.
‘Well, for heaven’s sake, let’s find her and talk to her, see what she knows.’ Fox seemed irritated, to the point of distraction.
‘I’ll talk to Townsend and Goddard once we’ve concluded our business here.’
‘Do that, man.’
Dressed in a wool coat and plaited undershirt, with a waistcoat, cravat, pantaloons and boots, Fox looked and sounded more like a military general than a magistrate.
Pyke remained silent.
‘And what about their names?’ Fox demanded, impatiently.
‘Stephen and Clare.’ Pyke waited for a moment. ‘I don’t know if they were married or not.’
‘Did you get a surname, dammit?’
Pyke nodded. ‘His name’s Magennis. One “g” and two “n”s.’
Fox took a moment to digest this news. ‘If I’m not mistaken, that’s an Irish name.’
Vines, who came from an Anglo-Irish background, said, ‘Indeed it is.’
‘I know these things are, how should I put it, rather complicated, Vines, but do we know whether Magennis is a Protestant or Roman Catholic name?’
Vines finally seemed to grasp the problem. ‘I believe it’s a name that can be associated with both traditions.’
‘I see.’
Pyke waited for a moment. ‘Stephen Magennis kept an informal diary. I read what little I could understand. It seems the two of them arrived in London together during the middle of last year. From Ulster. They took the boat from Belfast to Liverpool and travelled to London by coach from there. The landlady informed me he worked at the docks, as do most of her lodgers. There was a brief mention in the diary of his father. It seems he’s part of the Orange Order.’
Into the silence, Vines muttered, ‘God.’
Fox nodded. ‘And news of the murders has already