“I know just the thing,” I said, and hurried off to my room. I returned a moment later with a pair of steel handcuffs, a Christmas gift from Uncle William who thought I’d make a fine constable one day and wished to whet my appetite for the calling.
Together, Mother and I rolled Barnes over. I brought his hands up behind his back and fastened the bracelets around his wrists.
We stood up and admired our work.
“That should do splendidly,” Mother said.
“Shall I go out and fetch a Bobby?”
Her face darkened. She frowned and shook her head slowly from side to side. “He’d be carted off to gaol for sure.”
“That’s where he ought to be!”
“Oh, I’d rather not have that.”
“Mum! He whipped you! There’s no telling what mischief he’d have done if I hadn’t bashed him. He must be dealt with.”
She was silent for a while. She stroked her cheek a few times. She flinched once, probably due to the sorry state of her back. Finally, she said, “Bill would know what to do.”
I liked the sound of that.
Bill would know what to do, all right.
Give him a peek at his sister’s back, and he would deal with Barnes in a most appropriate manner.
“I’ll go and fetch him,” I said.
Mother glanced at the clock on the mantel. So did I. It was nearly nine. “Best wait for morning,” she said.
“He doesn’t go on duty till midnight. I’ve plenty of time to catch him before he sets off.”
“And there’s the rain.”
“A drop of rain won’t hurt me.” I tucked the bloody handkerchief back into my pocket, rushed across the floor and hefted the poker. “You keep this at hand, and don’t hesitate to use it.”
Nodding, she accepted the poker.
I hurried into my room. There, I snatched up my ivoryhandled folding knife—another gift from Uncle. I thought to offer it to Mother. A good sharp blade might be better than a poker for helping Barnes to mind his manners. However, I decided she might be loath to use such a deadly weapon, so I kept it for myself.
And a good thing I did so. Later on, it was to save my life.
When I returned to the front room, Barnes was still snoozing. I got into my coat.
Mother gave me a few shillings. “Take a hansom, darling.” Then she forced an umbrella on me.
She gave me a hasty kiss.
I said, “Be careful now, Mum. Don’t trust him an inch.”
Then I was on my way.
CHAPTER TWO
I Set Out
From the street, I gazed up at our bright, cheery windows and didn’t mind the cold rain on my face. What I minded was leaving Mother with Barnes. I wished I’d bashed him better. He was bound to wake up and Mother, being so good-hearted and forgiving, would take pity on him.
She’d want to ease his distress. Given half the chance, she’d unlock the handcuffs so he could stretch his arms and get comfortable and take a sip of tea, and then he’d be at her again.
She might have a problem finding the key, however, as I had it in my trouser pocket.
I was feeling a bit pleased about that when Mother came to one of the windows. Spying me, she raised a hand and wiggled her fingers. I waved back, never guessing this would be my last glimpse of her for many a year. Then I opened the umbrella and set off at a quick, splashy pace.
It didn’t take long to reach the cab rank at the corner of Baker Street and Dorset Street, where my eyes lit on the familiar, round figure of Daws. Glad to find him on duty, I hurried over to him. Daws and his horse were both spouting white clouds, the one from a briar pipe turned upside down to keep out the rain, the other from its nostrils as it snorted.
“Master Bentley,” he greeted me, the pipe bobbing in his teeth and shaking out a shower of sparks that drifted down and sprinkled the bulging front of his coat.
“Good evening, Daws. Hello, Blossom.” I gave the horse a solid pat on the neck. “I’m off to my uncle’s, 23 Guilford Street.”
“‘N’how’s Mum?”
“We’ve had a spot of trouble,” I said.
“Hello. Trouble, is it?” He gave the brim of his top hat a tug. “Bill’s just the chap to set it right, I’d say. Jump aboard.”
I scurried into the cab. It pitched like a skiff in a storm when Daws, at the rear, hurled his bulk into the driver’s seat.