Sharp Bob was dead! So someone had got to him, Dodger thought. But now he had other questions. What had this Sharp Bob known? Had he been working on his own, just to make some specie . . .? Or under the orders of someone else? For that government Mister Disraeli had spoken of?
‘All the policemen know about you, Mister Dodger,’ Sir Robert was saying, ‘and the old Bow Street boys did as welclass="underline" always suspected, never impeached, never had to stand in front of the beak. One old lad I knew said some people believed you were protected by the Lady of the Sewers, and I believe that you may now need all the protection you can get. We are not the Bow Street runners, Mister Dodger; we are clever men – your friend Charlie Dickens is in fact quite fascinated by our procedures.’ Sir Robert sighed, and went on, ‘Indeed, I sometimes suspect he would love to be a peeler if I let him; he’d make a good copper if he didn’t scribble, scribble, scribble all the time, I am sure. We know what goes on, Mister Dodger, but sometimes we don’t see the need to tell people everything that we know.’
He paused to take another puff on his cigar, before continuing, ‘I do know, however, that one or two people with associations to the aforesaid Sharp Bob are said to have recently run up against a gentleman known to all and sundry as Dodger, and ended up the worst for it. One . . . employee, shall we say, appears to have had an unfortunate and terminal accident only yesterday morning – the kind involving his being run over by a coach and four in a busy street not too far from your own neighbourhood. Run over twice, it would appear . . . with no witnesses whatsoever.’
Dodger’s mind was racing. Someone else had got to the other cove who had beaten Simplicity, then – someone who hadn’t held back from killing. Now it began to seem that everyone connected with this affair was ending up dead . . .
‘We are rather wondering,’ Sir Robert mused, ‘if there might be another player here now; people are getting restive and want to see this whole matter cleared up. Of course, a keen policeman would still automatically think that said Mister Dodger, being somewhat annoyed by the lackeys of Sharp Bob, might see that some harm came to him or his associates. However, as all London knows, you were otherwise engaged yesterday morning at Mister Todd’s establishment. You appear to be a lucky man, Dodger. A man who is normally invisible has become surprisingly visible at just the right moments.’ He paused. ‘Although my informants do tell me there is a further known associate of both of these two late gentlemen who was seen sporting a broken nose this morning, whilst also walking in a rather peculiar fashion . . . this may need further investigation. Are you with me? I see that you are remaining quiet; very sensible of you.’
The boss of the peelers stood up, knocking the ash off the end of his cigar into a small silver ashtray. ‘Mister Dodger, I am the head of the police force, which makes me a policeman, but I am also a politician. I am sure that someone as smart as you is aware that politicians – who in theory wield a great deal of power – can sometimes get somewhat tangled up when it comes to using it, knowing that their every move is going to be watched and questioned. Agents watch every port – good heavens, you yourself must know that; there isn’t a mudlark or an urchin on every quay who wouldn’t keep an eye open for anyone for a cost. But there are indeed some of us who, whilst publicly toeing the government line, feel that an innocent person who has sought sanctuary in Britain should not be sent back to where she does not want to go. Good Lord, man, we are British! We should not bow to the demands of anyone. There must surely be a way to resolve this situation without risking a war.’
Dodger’s mouth fell open. A war? Over Simplicity?
‘Mister Dodger,’ the head of the peelers continued, ‘you and Miss Simplicity appear to be a reason why people are being killed. And why more people might be, unless we can resolve this, and very soon, since you must by now also realize that this affair has ramifications beyond Miss Simplicity and yourself. Now I know that you are very keen to see that the young lady in question comes to no harm, and as your friend Charlie has said, when the kings and queens and knights and rooks find it difficult to move, the pawn may win the game. Like Charlie, I therefore believe that somebody not so readily associated with the government could indeed be the very man to help us find a solution.’ His voice dropped as he said, more softly, ‘You are the freest free agent that I can possibly imagine, and frankly, Mister Dodger, and I will deny this if ever you repeat it publicly and you may be sure that my word will be taken against yours, one of the reasons I’m talking to you now is to tell you that whatever you may be planning, you must not break the law. Since I have just now stepped out of this room and any voice you may be hearing cannot possibly be mine, I must, however, point out to you that there are times when the law may be somewhat . . . flexible.’
He moved closer to the door and said, ‘And now, without another word, we will both stroll back to the others as if we had just been discussing the very latest in modern sanitation, and I will find you again when I need to. We will’ – he paused – ‘be watching you with interest.’ The head of the peelers looked at Dodger’s panicked expression and smiled again. ‘Don’t worry unduly; in the meantime, we have a homicide – that just means a dead body really. Who knows? He might have been meeting a client in rather insalubrious surroundings and banged his head on something and some people got the wrong idea. And, Mister Dodger, this conversation and everything to do with it has never existed. Do you understand?’
At last Dodger found his tongue and he simply said, ‘Understand what, sir?’
‘You are a quick learner, Mister Dodger. Incidentally, you appear to have no other name than Dodger, Mister Dodger. I know you were brought up in an orphanage, but surely they gave you a name?’
More than a name, Dodger thought, and I bet you already know it, Mister Peel. Then he said, ‘Yes, they did. They called me Pip Stick! Are you happy now? Because I’m not! How about that for a name? Think of all the fun people can have with that and a small boy; and they did, Mister Peel, they certainly did. It’s writ down in the workhouse, all official like. Mister Pip Stick, just my luck. Hard luck. Mind you,’ he added, ‘now I come to think of it, Mister Pip Stick had to know how to fight. And to dodge. And to kick and bite. And run. Oh, and how he could run, and climb and twist.’ He hesitated and added, ‘Not that I’m sayin’ that it was a good name to have, oh dear me, no.’
The dinner was almost over when Dodger got back to his seat, and a few minutes later Angela tapped a wineglass with a spoon, very gently, and announced, ‘My friends, custom and practice these days is that ladies withdraw to the withdrawing room while all the gentlemen stay behind, and as you know I find this rather irksome because I’d quite like to talk to some gentlemen, and I’m sure some gentlemen might like to talk to some ladies. After all, these are modern times and we are all people of the world; I daresay none of us in this eminent company require a chaperone. I shall go to the drawing room and await all comers!’