Crossing the Green, he found the steps that took him down towards the river. His pace quickened now as he realized the lateness of the hour. As he turned the corner at the end of the flight he collided with another who suddenly emerged from the darkness. Not wishing to be detained in conversation, he kept his head down, muttered some brief words of apology and continued on his way.
As he proceeded along the footpath at the side of the river, he could see the lights of far off dwellings on the other side of the water. He kept the old walls of the city on his left side, and soon distanced himself from the ancient cathedral. The sounds of singing and shouting drifted down from the Diglis Inn to the water’s edge as he passed by. Soon he was leaving the distant lights of the city behind him.
Suddenly turning away from the river, he pushed open a wooden door in the wall at his side. He found himself in an enclosed garden and made his way through the undergrowth until he reached the remains of the ruined building. He had been here before, so despite the darkness of the night, he soon found that which he sought.
Sliding the stone to one side, he revealed the cavity. He reached into his pocket, withdrew the packet and laid it within the space, before replacing the cover.
Quickly regaining the river-bank, he began to retrace his steps towards the city. A feeling of immense relief began to overwhelm him as he realized that he had completed his mission, and tears again began to form in his eyes. He had kept his side of the agreement. Now perhaps his life would be given back to him — he could begin again. God had given him a second chance. He would be redeemed.
‘Nicholas!’
The voice startled him, but before he could turn around, he felt a sudden pain on the back of his head. He cried out as he fell towards the ground.
He tried to look up at his attacker, to see who had carried out this act of brutality, to learn who had violated his person, but before he could do so, he became aware that someone had taken hold of his legs and was dragging his body along the ground.
He knew then what was about to happen: that he would be unable to prevent it. Nevertheless as he neared the edge of the tow path, he made a frantic effort to cry out, in the hope that someone might yet come to his rescue and that his life would be spared.
But then the icy waters of the river seemed to open up to receive his body, and he felt himself falling into a quieter, darker world, from which he knew there would be no return.
At first he struggled, but as the waters closed over him, and as the blackness took him down into the bitter, unknown depths, Nicholas Evelyn became resigned to his fate, and uttered a last prayer to his Maker begging forgiveness for all his past sins — and asking that his life might be better in the next world.
CHAPTER TWO
LONDON — SEPTEMBER 1888
‘Call Samuel Ravenscroft!’
‘Call Samuel Ravenscroft!’
Ravenscroft made his way into the number two court of the Old Bailey, and took his place on the witness stand.
‘Please take the Bible and repeat the words on the card,’ instructed the usher.
Ravenscroft cleared his throat and uttered the familiar words.
‘You are Samuel Ravenscroft?’ asked the prosecuting counsel. ‘I believe you are an inspector in the Whitechapel Division of the London Constabulary?’
‘I am.’
‘Speak up! The court cannot hear you,’ said the judge, leaning forward and peering over his glasses at the middle-aged, untidily dressed figure who stood before him.
Ravenscroft cursed his bad luck to be giving evidence before old Winslow yet again — deaf as a post, and irritable and sour to boot. He had a bad feeling about the outcome of this case. ‘I am sorry, your honour. I will endeavour to speak louder for your honour,’ he replied, as laughter broke out from the gallery.
‘Silence!’ shouted the judge. ‘May I remind those present that this is a court of law, not a place of music hall entertainment. Proceed.’
‘Thank you, your honour. Now Inspector Ravenscroft, would you care to tell us what happened on the night of 23 July last?’ enquired the prosecutor.
Ravenscroft took out his notebook, and after adjusting his spectacles, addressed the court.
‘Following information I had received earlier in the day, I took up my position that evening outside the house of Mr Charles Roberts in Shoreditch. At ten thirty precisely I observed the accused, Nigel Makepeace climbing into one of the downstairs windows of the property. Approximately ten minutes later I saw him making his way out of the window and I immediately raised the alarm.’
‘What did he say?’ asked the judge holding his ear.
‘I think the inspector said that he raised the alarm when he saw the accused leaving the property, your honour.’
Winslow nodded. ‘Well, go on then!’ he demanded, a look of annoyance creeping over his face.
‘The accused ran off and myself and two of my officers set off in pursuit. We shortly apprehended Makepeace and conveyed him to the local police station.’
‘Did you make a search of his person?’ enquired counsel.
‘I did indeed, sir, and found two watches in his inside pocket. The same two watches which you have in court today,’ replied Ravenscroft looking up from his book, and realizing that his left hand was shaking.
‘Did Mr Makepeace then confess his guilt, Inspector?’
‘He did not, sir.’
‘But you were confident that you had arrested the right man?’
‘There was no doubt about it, sir. We had caught him red handed with the goods upon his person.’ Ravenscroft tried to sound as confident as possible, for he knew what to expect next. Opposite him the accused was looking up casually at the ceiling.
‘Thank you, Inspector, you have been most helpful.’
The prosecuting barrister resumed his seat and as the counsel for the defence, Mr Sefton Rawlinson, rose to his feet. Ravenscroft’s heart sank.
‘Inspector, how long have you been a member of the London Constabulary?’
Ravenscroft knew that Rawlinson always began with the same question, smiling as he did so, ever seeking to ingratiate himself with the court. It was just unfortunate that the slippery old brief was on the defending side yet again.
‘Fifteen years, sir.’
‘Fifteen years, Inspector. Well, well.’
Always the same response, Rawlinson seeking to belittle his age and experience as usual. He would need to be on his guard. It would not look good at the Yard if he were to lose this one.
‘You say you took up your position outside Mr Roberts’s house. Remind the court as to the time, Inspector?’
‘Ten thirty in the evening.’
‘What time did he say?’ asked the judge, to yet more laughter from the spectators.
‘I think Inspector Ravenscroft said ten thirty in the evening, your honour.’
‘Thank you, Mr Rawlinson.’
‘A pleasure, your honour. Now, Inspector, you say you took up your station at ten thirty. When did you see someone climbing in through the downstairs window?’
‘Eleven-ten precisely,’ replied Ravenscroft, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
‘Eleven-ten precisely, you say,’ repeated the barrister brandishing a sheet of paper. ‘How can you have been so sure of the time? Was it not dark then?’
‘There was some light from the lamp behind us, which enabled me to read my pocket watch.’
‘You say there was some light behind you. So there was no light on the front of the house?’
‘No-’ began Ravenscroft.
‘Quite! So the front of the house was in complete darkness. Tell me Inspector, how was it that you could possibly identify my client either climbing in or out of the property when it was so dark?’ asked Rawlinson leaning forward eagerly.