Devil's Workshop

He looked out at the sea of faces, all good men, all of them committed to keeping London safe. “Be very careful,” he said. “I want every one of you back here by end of day unharmed.” He slammed his hand against the desktop. “Now go!”

The crowd dispersed, gathering around Sergeant Kett for their assignments. Sir Edward saw that Kett was passing out lists of everything they knew about the prisoners and wondered how the sergeant had made time to create the lists. He caught Inspector Day’s eye as the detective crossed the room.

“Mr Day, Mr Hammersmith, I’d like to see you both in my office, please.”

Sir Edward gathered his notes and led the way to his small office at the back of the room. He allowed Day to open the door and preceded him through. He went around his desk and laid the notes on the blotter, but didn’t sit.

“Please close the door.”

Before Day could move, another man entered and closed the door behind him.

“Mr March?” Sir Edward said. “I don’t recall asking for you.”

Retired Detective Inspector Adrian March was a stout man with spectacles and muttonchops, his curly grey hair worn long enough to brush against the top of his collar. He carried a cane, but didn’t appear to need it.

“If it’s all the same, sir,” March said, “I’d like to be paired up with the inspector.” He nodded to indicate that he was talking about Day. “We make a good team.”

“You did,” Sir Edward said. “Mr Day also makes a good team with Sergeant Hammersmith. I plan to pair them.”

“Then I’ll be a third, if you don’t mind. There to offer whatever assistance or advice I can. I’m afraid I don’t know most of these other men and I’m not as fast on my feet as I once was. I’m familiar with Mr Day’s strengths and know those qualities he may require of me.”

Sir Edward sighed. “Very well. You’re kind to volunteer your services at this ungodly hour. I can’t very well order you about like a constable, can I? Please take a seat.”

Adrian March smiled at Day and frowned at Hammersmith and sat down. Sir Edward wondered why March seemed displeased with Hammersmith, but then noticed that the sergeant had a long soup stain down the front of his shirt, which he had apparently tried to hide by buttoning his jacket all the way up. But he had mismatched the buttonholes, and his jacket skewed strangely across his rail-thin chest. He was tall and lean, with a narrow face and almost feminine features. His hair stuck straight up, uncombed, except for a mass of it at the front that had fallen into his eyes. Sir Edward was used to Hammersmith’s slovenly appearance and realized he no longer even noticed the frequent stains and rips that the sergeant habitually sported. He sighed again. He was still unsure about whether he ought to have promoted Hammersmith to the rank of sergeant. In addition to his unkempt appearance, Hammersmith was unruly and impulsive. It was nearly impossible to keep him in line. But he brought qualities to his police work that many of the detectives did not. He was sensitive, caring, and brave, quick to leap into a fray if it would help the cause in any way.

“Mr Day, Mr Hammersmith, Mr March, while the others beat the bushes for the escapees, I would like you to investigate some discrepancies in the information we’re receiving from the prison.”

“Sir,” Hammersmith said, “with respect, I feel I would be best suited to the search itself.”

“And you may be, Sergeant,” Sir Edward said. “But Inspector Day will require assistance and, as I said, you work very well together. I think each of you may see things at HM Prison Bridewell that the other would miss.”

“But Mr March is here to help,” Hammersmith said. “He can assist Mr Day.”

“You make me weary, Mr Hammersmith. For the time being, you will remain with Mr Day. And Mr March. Perhaps the three of you together will uncover something faster than you might otherwise do and then. . only then, Sergeant, will I reassign you to the manhunt. Do we understand each other?”

Hammersmith nodded, but his expression was black. Sir Edward was touched by the young man’s devotion to justice. Just wait, he thought. Be patient and try not to get yourself killed before you become the great policeman I know you could be.

“The head warder claims that all the dead prisoners have been accounted for and that four men have escaped,” Sir Edward said. “But there is another man, a clerk on the prison staff, who claims there were five escapees. Both of these men seem to be absolutely unshakable in their convictions, and that worries me. It makes every bit of information coming out of that place suspect.”

“I should think the head warder would have the best information,” March said. “There must be four escapees.”