The candle died and the room returned to darkness. I felt my way to the small bench and waited.
At last the door opened and Mr Rewse, the governor, stood in the doorway. His twin keys of office hung from a ring attached to his sagging belt. They were huge – over a foot long and at least an inch thick – and clanged together when he moved.
He crinkled his nose. ‘Fie, it stinks in here,’ he muttered, as if this were nothing to do with him. He waved me out into the corridor and led me to his own private lodgings close by. A chink of hope opened in my heart. Had the queen used her influence again? Was I to be released?
Rewse ushered me into a snug, pleasing room with good furniture, paintings and sketches upon the wall, embroidered cushions. Evidence of a Mrs Rewse, I supposed. ‘Call for me when you’re done, sirs,’ he said, then bowed and left.
John Eliot – Kitty’s lawyer – stood with his back to the blazing fire. He smiled briefly, but his eyes were grave. Any dreams I’d had of rescue sputtered and died in that one look.
He clasped my shoulder. ‘Hawkins.’
‘Kitty-’
He squeezed my shoulder with his pudgy fingers. ‘Quite safe.’
‘Thank God. I’m innocent, sir. I swear it.’
‘Of course.’ The kindness and trust in his voice broke me in a way Crowder’s club never could. Tears sprang in my eyes. I brushed them away roughly.
We sat down by the fire and I fortified myself with a bottle of burgundy Eliot had brought for the purpose. He asked if I had discovered anything of use during my own investigation, but there was little I could offer without plunging us all into even greater danger. I could scarcely admit that Sam had murdered Joseph Burden. I feared for my life in here as it was, locked up with half of London’s villains. One or two must belong to Fleet’s gang. If I peached on Sam, or Fleet himself, I would not survive the night, and nor would Kitty.
Nor could I implicate anyone else, not with good conscience. And even if I did, who would believe me? I was the most obvious suspect.
Burden had accused me of murder. I had threatened him the night before he was killed in front of half the street. My only defence had been that the house was locked, with no way in or out. Now that Ned had found the passage, how could I possibly be innocent? Eliot did his best to strengthen my spirits, but I was not a fool. If my case came to trial, I would be convicted and I would hang.
I put my head in my hands, rubbing my scalp. In the tumult of the last few days I had not found the time to visit the barber, and my hair was growing back. I must shave it. There would be lice in this prison, rats in every corner, and fleas in the sheets too, no doubt. Oh, God. I had thought I’d left all this behind. At least I could not catch gaol fever a second time. Yes – what excellent news. There was every chance I would live long enough to be hanged from the neck.
‘I’ve spoken with Rewse,’ Eliot said. ‘He can offer you a decent room by the Press Yard. It’s part of the Keeper’s House. For the better sorts of prisoner.’ He coughed, embarrassed. ‘You will have more privileges than most. Light, good air, the yard for walking. And you will not be chained. That is good news, is it not? It will not be so very bad.’
‘How much will this cost?’
Eliot worried at his lip.
‘How much, sir?’
‘Ten shillings a week,’ he confessed. ‘But you know, sir – Kitty would spend her last farthing to secure your comfort.’
Ten shillings a week. I could rent half an inn for that. ‘How does she fare, sir? Are you sure she is safe?’
‘I’m sure she is,’ Eliot replied, puzzled. ‘Why would she not be?’
My stomach knotted. She had been spared so far, but for how long? ‘She must be protected, Eliot. You must see to it.’
‘Why, is she in danger? My God, what has happened, sir? What is it you are hiding from me?’
I must find a guard to protect Kitty – and Alice for that matter. Someone strong, and skilled with a blade. But how could I trust such a man under my roof, with Kitty? I couldn’t. And then I smiled. Not a man. But a woman…
It took me a while to persuade Eliot that hiring an Irish gladiator called Neala Maguire to guard the house was not some garbled act of lunacy, but I pressed him on it until he capitulated. ‘And you must advise Kitty to send Sam home at once. It would not be seemly for him stay now.’
‘Seemly…?’ Eliot raised an eyebrow. Behaving in a seemly fashion had never been a great priority of mine. And given that Kitty had been living – unwed – with a man now accused of murder… But he saw I was determined, and what did it matter to him if some boy from St Giles was sent home or not?
Once I had persuaded him and he had given me every possible assurance that he would comply, I felt my spirits lift a little. If we could all survive tonight, we might still find a way to resolve this.‘Mr Rewse was kind to lend us this room.’
Eliot sniffed. ‘It’s not for charity. Not yours, at least. He made a fortune out of Jack Sheppard. Paying visitors. They’d line up to peer through the grate. Rewse hopes you’ll prove equally profitable.’
‘Sheppard escaped prison four times. The whole town was obsessed with him. No one will pay to see me.’
‘Forgive me, sir, but I fear you’re mistaken. You’re a gentleman. Young. Handsome. The details of your story – the fact that you insisted on investigating the case and interrogating Mr Burden’s family. It will cause a sensation.’
My heart sank. I had seen this before. By morning there would be ballads and pamphlets and broadsheets about the murderous gentleman Thomas Hawkins. No matter if I escaped death, I would be branded for ever as an infamous monster.
‘I have a message from Kitty,’ Eliot said, more quietly. ‘Gonson has her under guard at present – he wishes to question her tonight. But she said she would bring the dress tomorrow, at first light.’ He paused. ‘She’s not planning to dress you as a woman and smuggle you out, is she? No, no – best not to say a word. It worked for Sheppard that time, I suppose…’
I sat back hard against the chair. Alice’s dress. Yes – it might still work, we might still be able to swing the suspicion upon Alice. Her bloody clothes. Her appearance through the attic door, holding the knife. Sam and Kitty would bear witness to that. Was it not more believable that Alice had turned to Burden in bed and stabbed him? Given what he had done to her night after night? With the dress and the witnesses, it would make a good case.
A dark shadow settled on my heart.
Chapter Nineteen
There was no choice to be made. I could not send an innocent girl to the gallows just to save my neck. Yet still I didn’t sleep that first night in gaol. A sly, insistent thought crawled through my mind, leaving a trail of poison. Save yourself. Whatever the cost.
It is a hard thing to hold a key in your hand and not turn the lock. It seemed to me that there were two of us in the cell that night. My true self, pacing the floor, banging my fist against the wall and cursing all the mistakes I had made. And then there was my shadow, who waited for daylight only to betray Alice and free himself. As the slow night hours passed, there were times when I was tempted to become that shadow. I would live. But as what? Not as the man who had entered this cell, that much was certain.
I was mortally afraid. I didn’t want to die at the age of six and twenty. I didn’t want my name cursed and spat upon, down through the ages. I didn’t want my father to think I was a murderer.