The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [76]
Pyke heaved himself up off the chair and shuffled around Hunt’s desk in his leg-irons and advanced a few paces towards the governor, until the man held up his hand and said, ‘That’s far enough.’ It was near enough too. Pyke let the metal handcuffs slip from his wrists and managed to catch them before they struck the floor by clutching the chain. In the same motion, he swung the chain upwards and directed the shackles at the governor’s uncomprehending face. The iron cuffs struck Hunt squarely on the head and he slumped forward on to the desk. Preparing himself for an invasion of turnkeys alerted by the noise, Pyke turned to face the door. Silently he counted to ten. No one appeared. He exhaled slightly and used the key to release his leg-irons.
The governor’s quarters occupied a separate building at the rear of the prison, set back from the main wards. The governor’s office, located on the second floor, looked down over the enclosed press yard which separated the prison from the condemned block. Pyke tried to open the window behind the governor’s desk; to his surprise, it was unlocked. Somehow, Emily had come through for him. He pulled up the sash and looked out into the misty dawn. Below was a sheer drop of fifty feet down to the yard. If he jumped, Pyke knew he would break both his legs, and would still have to scale a high wall protected by two rows of iron spikes in order to make it out of the prison. Better to climb upwards, on to the roof, if that were possible, and from there try to drop down on to the brick wall that ran the entire length of the press yard. The problem was that the wall was clearly visible from the governor’s office. Even if he made it that far, Pyke would certainly be seen by one of the turnkeys.
He needed an alternative plan.
On the governor’s desk he found a letter opener in the shape of a dagger. Taking the implement in his hand, and without giving it another thought, he thrust the sharp end into Hunt’s neck and felt the metal slice through sinew and muscle. He had to step back so the blood that spilled from the wound did not cover his hands and feet.
Moments later, the turnkeys burst into the room. Before them they saw the governor’s motionless body, slumped on his desk, surrounded by a thick pool of his own blood. The man’s head, as usual, was hidden under his black hat. Behind him, the window was open. Pyke was nowhere to be seen. When one of the turnkeys raced to the window and looked down into the yard beneath him, he saw what he thought to be Pyke’s unmoving body, splattered against the hard ground.
One of the turnkeys shouted, ‘Prisoner escaped.’
The other, by the window, yelled, ‘Prisoner fallen. Get someone down there. He looks to be dead.’
Another said, ‘How in God’s name did he do it? We searched him, didn’t we?’
Still another said, ‘I take it the governor’s dead.’
‘I ain’t touching him.’
‘Fetch a doctor.’
Another voice. ‘Get the Ordinary, not a doctor. Too late for that.’
‘Come on. Let’s see whether Pyke’s dead.’
Moments later, alone in the governor’s office, Pyke removed the hat from his head and used it to wipe the governor’s blood from his face and neck. He climbed out on to the narrow window ledge. Holding on to the stone arch that framed the window, he pulled himself up on to the building’s roof and lay there for a moment, staring up into the dawn skies. In the distance, he could hear the mass of people beginning to gather outside the prison to witness a hanging that would not now take place. Then he was up on his feet and scurrying across the sloping roof. Then he lowered himself on to the wall and traversed the press yard.
Far below, he could see the outline of the governor’s body, and he moved as quickly along the wall as its narrow width would allow. At the end of the wall, he dropped down into the garden of the Royal College of Physicians, as the first of the turnkeys reached the governor’s body.
The last thing