The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [75]
The sheer granite walls that rose up fifty feet from the ground were impossible to scale, a task that was made even harder by a row of inward-facing iron spikes attached to the wall about three-quarters of the way up, and another row of even larger spikes that protected the top of the wall. But if he could drop down from the governor’s quarters on to the top of the wall, there might be a chance.
Carefully Pyke secured the cuffs and leg-irons and pressed the key into the palm of his hand.
‘Turnkey.’ The shrillness of Pyke’s tone startled the older man from his slumber.
‘Eh?’ He looked around the cell, still disoriented.
‘I want you to take a message to Governor Hunt. Tell the governor that I am willing to divulge to him the exact nature of my business with the Home Secretary but, and this is my one demand, only if he grants me a private audience in his office.’
The turnkey seemed unconvinced. ‘Why should I wake the governor at this time of night?’
‘The governor will want to hear what I have to say to him.’ Pyke shrugged. ‘And if, at some later point, he hears that you failed to avail him of the opportunity to hear my revelations, I can promise you he will not be happy.’
The turnkey still looked unsure so Pyke said, ‘If you pass on the message, and he refuses to see me, what have you lost?’
Later, when the old man had been replaced by another turnkey, all that was left for Pyke to do was wait.
‘This is a most unusual situation,’ the governor said, as he lightly tapped his fingers on his desk. His bald head glistened in the candlelight. ‘But I cannot pretend that I am not a little intrigued by the nature of your business with the Home Secretary.’
Pyke was separated from the governor only by his mahogany desk. The turnkeys had brought him into the room and checked his handcuffs and leg-irons. He had also been searched, once in his cell and again before he entered the governor’s office. The two of them were now alone. Pyke asked whether he might take a seat. The governor said that he did not see why not. With the desk to obscure Hunt’s view of his hands, he set to work with the key.
Outside, the skies were beginning to lighten. He was due to hang in less than two hours.
‘If I am honest, I am also curious about your motives for sharing this information with me, since there is nothing I can offer you in return.’
Pyke nodded, as though he had been expecting this response. ‘But you are no supporter of the Home Secretary, either.’
Hunt licked his lips. ‘And you feel this information might be damaging to his prospects, eh?’
‘Perhaps even more than damaging,’ Pyke said, nodding.
‘Is that so?’ Hunt seemed both pained and excited by such an idea. ‘You think it might even force Peel’s resignation?’
‘It might.’
‘That’s a grave assertion.’ He seemed to be weighing up what he might gain from such a situation. ‘But how can I attest to the information’s authenticity?’
‘Its authenticity would be legitimised by the reaction of the Home Secretary.’ Pyke freed his handcuffs.
‘I see,’ the governor said, nodding carefully. ‘Perhaps you might share this information with me now?’
Pyke looked around at the closed door and whispered, ‘Are you certain that no one will be listening?’
‘The turnkeys won’t be interested in our conversation.’
‘But the information is only valuable if it is wielded carefully and by the right people,’ Pyke said carefully.
‘So what do you suggest?’
‘Since I cannot write while shackled,’ Pyke said, holding up his handcuffs, ‘perhaps I might venture a little closer, so that I can be sure we’re not overheard.’
The governor considered his