The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [98]
Almost at once, someone from the crowd cheered, either mistaking what was happening for part of the fight or simply enjoying the sight of the helpless giant being mauled by the powerful bear. These cheers produced a counter-response, this time in support of the giant, either out of patriotic duty, because the giant was dressed as the duke of Wellington, or because they had money staked on the outcome of the fight. Soon, there was bedlam. Villums himself was trapped by the baying mob on the far side of the room and was screaming at Pyke to take action - more to protect his tavern’s already dubious reputation than to save the giant. The bear was tearing flesh from the giant’s flayed torso when Pyke returned from Villums’s garret carrying a flintock blunderbuss with a long brass cannon barrel loaded with powder and ball shot.
From a distance of fifteen yards, Pyke rested the butt of the blunderbuss against his shoulder and took aim at the bear, but before he could pull the trigger someone knocked him from behind and the projectile exploded out of the barrel of the blunderbuss; instead of hitting the bear as planned, it struck the recovering dwarf squarely in the belly, lifting him clean off his feet and almost cutting him in two. People tried to flee the room, but Pyke took his time and reloaded the weapon. The first shot hit the bear in the chest; the second shot blew off the entire right side of its head. Bone, cartilage, tissue, blood, chunks of fur and even an eyeball splattered those who had not managed to leave the room. The bear seemed not to have been affected by the double blast at first, aside from the obvious loss of body parts. On all fours, it surveyed the carnage: the mauled giant, the dwarf’s twitching corpse and the vast carpet of blood and intestines that covered the floor of the ring. It tried to open its mouth but, as it did so, its will to live finally leaked from its gargantuan frame, and it collapsed on to the floor with a thud. The remaining audience, such as it was, turned and watched the gruesome spectacle. As soon as the bear had stopped moving, one of them broke into applause. Others joined in. No one seemed to know whether the applause was for the bear, the dwarf or the giant, but since the giant was the only one of them left alive, he presumed it must be for him and hauled himself to his feet to receive the accolades. A flap of skin the size of a large book hung down from his bleeding neck.
Once he had put the blunderbuss down, no one seemed to be interested in Pyke, just as no one appeared to have recognised him. But without his unkempt hair and bushy sideburns, this was to be expected.
‘I dunno whether to thank you or strangle you,’ Villums said later, while Pyke inspected his new outfit in the mirror. He had discarded his labourer’s clothes and changed into formal attire. ‘You don’t think it was too much of a risk, coming back to your old haunts?’
In addition to running a sizeable gambling operation in the Old Cock tavern, Villums fenced stolen property. Pyke had employed his services in this latter capacity on more than a few occasions. He would not have described him as a friend but he trusted Villums as much as he did anyone, and he was paying handsomely for the garret that Villums provided for him.
‘Perhaps, but then again, I don’t have a choice.’ Pyke shrugged. He knew as well as anyone that he was only one step, or mishap, away from being recognised and arrested. ‘And I can blend in here just as well as anywhere.’
‘Can I ask you a question, Pyke?’
They were in Villums’s parlour, drinking gin from pewter tankards. Pyke was preparing to go out for the evening.
‘In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you act like you’re scared or express any kind of remorse or nothing. ’ Villums looked puzzled. ‘Don’t you feel bad for the dwarf?’
‘I feel worse for the bear,’ Pyke said, allowing his gaze to settle on Villums. ‘Are you trying to tell me the dwarf would