The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗

Many whores prowl the town and prey on these innocent young men.’

‘Innocent young men? I’m told that girls are taken in for merely speaking to a student after curfew.’

‘Well, then,’ he sneered, ‘what are the little trollops doing out at those hours?’

I suddenly realized the extent of the danger to Polly when she ran off from Baker Street last night. My chest went tight. ‘How are they released? Is there a bail system?’

‘Not officially. Why?’

‘Well, surely their parents come for them. Or their husbands, brothers, employers? You can’t tell me that none of them are released?’

‘Well, eventually, of course. Under certain circumstances they are released early.’

‘What circumstances?

‘There is a—’ he lowered his voice to a whisper ‘—a private bail system. It is not cheap.’

‘I have means.’

The man paused, then lowered his stick. He moved back behind his desk and sat down, staring up at me thoughtfully.

‘Whom have you come to release? Or did you want to meet a few? Take your pick.’ He smiled. My stomach turned. ‘Want to set one free, then?’ He continued. ‘We do process them for illness, so you’ll be getting a clean one. Tell me you’re her brother, perhaps. Father, maybe even, if she’s a young ’un.’

‘You process them for illness?’

‘Examine every one of ’em. And treat ’em if necessary.’

As a doctor, I did not need to hear more. I knew this was done in London on a regular basis. But here, outside of municipal law? ‘Do you have a young lady named Polly, red hair, about sixteen, brought in last night?’

‘Surname?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You fellows never do.’ The man hesitated. ‘I will have to check.’ He went to a cabinet and ruffled through some files. He pulled out a sheet of paper and turned to me. ‘We have a Polly. She’s a dangerous one. Feisty. Caused some damage, I think. Bail is set at five pounds.’

I paused. There was the chance I would need to bail out Holmes. I had brought a sizeable amount of money with me, as I had learned to do on such adventures. Who knew what Holmes’s bail might be? But this situation demanded action now.

I reached into my pocket to discover the crumpled five-pound note from Freddie Eden-Summers. What better use for it? In five minutes, a dishevelled Polly was freed and stood with me in front of that awful place, pale, and with her hair escaping her braids in copper-coloured strands. A hot breeze blew old newspapers and chip wrappings down the street but did nothing to cool the air.

‘Dear God, Polly,’ said I. ‘You should have stayed at Baker Street last night. Cambridge is no place for you alone after dark.’

‘I know about it, sir. I have managed before.’

‘Are you all right, my poor girl? Not hurt in any way?’

She held up her right hand. Her knuckles were bruised. ‘I am less hurt than some chap named Pete in there.’ She smiled.

‘Mr Holmes is incarcerated as well,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry, Doctor Watson. He’s in regular gaol, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘They play fair over there. Not all of ’em. But mostly.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘My sister. She is a bit of a thief. Nice girl, though. And she don’t work at night – for the reason you just saw.’

‘Where is your sister now?’

‘At work. Well, her lawful-like work. She has a room nearby,’ said Polly, indicating with a thumb in an easterly direction.

‘Write down the address on this slip of paper. Can you take refuge there ’til we come for you? Wyndham will have you arrested. He thinks you stole from him. Will you be safe?’

She nodded, and I watched her, relieved, as she vanished up the street. She nearly ran into two boys of about the same age who galloped towards me down the street, ringing a bell. ‘A dead body! A dead body! A ha’penny for the news,’ they cried.

My stomach lurched. I grabbed one by the arm as he brushed by me. ‘What news? What body?’

The boy held his hand out and I slammed a coin into it. ‘Dead girl. In the Jesus Lock. Drownded!’ he rasped.

‘Girl? How old?’

The boy shrugged. ‘Dunno. Grown up, maybe?’

‘A love affair gone wrong, methinks,’ intoned the other with a knowing look and his hand out for another coin. But I was off and running for the police station.

CHAPTER 29

The Lady in the Lock

The place was a madhouse. Evidently news of the body had arrived at the station only minutes before, and the officers were assembling in the reception area, with Hadley barking orders. Before I could approach him, he spotted me and gestured me over brusquely.

‘Dr Watson,’ he said, ‘a body was spotted in the Jesus Lock some hours ago. A young woman, drowned. Long blonde hair. Age twenty or thereabouts. It is looking like a murder. We’ve just managed to get her out of the water.’

My stomach sank. Dillie.

‘Can you accompany me, please? I know you have experience with … such things,’ Hadley said.

Pickering materialized behind him with a length of cloth, his face like an eager wolf. ‘We have it in hand, sir. No need to bring the Londoner in.’

Hadley turned sharply to his subordinate. ‘Attend to the men, Pickering. I’ll bring whom I like.’ Pickering gave me a sour look and melted away.

‘Sir,’ I said, ‘if it is Miss Wyndham and there is foul play, Mr Sherlock Holmes can prove invaluable. Might you not free him to join us?’

‘No, Dr Watson. Follow me.’

I would have to stand in for my friend. As we hurried to the river, I could not help but wonder how the body could have been spotted but not removed until recently. I was soon to learn the awful reason why.

The Jesus Lock was surrounded by some twenty or thirty eager townspeople who crowded the banks, craning necks and whispering in excitement. On the bank of the lock, near the eastern end, lay what looked like a mound of clothing on the grassy slope.

As we drew closer, I could see it was a body,