Maggie MacKeever Read Online Free PDF Page A

thieftaker could gather a wealth of information and locate criminals, earning a comfortable share of government reward money for himself.
    It was not an easy living. Government rewards were divided between the prosecutor, witnesses and the arresting officer. Parliamentary rewards, paid by the government to anyone who brought a criminal to justice, were on a sliding scale of £10 for a shoplifter to £40 for a highwayman. Little wonder that some constables and watchmen ignored minor misdeeds in hope that the felons would become sufficiently emboldened to commit more serious felonies. Crump agreed with Sir John that the system was both inadequate and unfair.
    His purpose, however, was not to lament injustice but to investigate a crime. Crump peered up at White’s handsome and well-proportioned narrow brick facade, at the Corinthian pilasters beyond which wealthy lords gambled deeply night and day. It would be a sharp set-down for his fellow Runners, mused Crump, if he solved this perplexing series of crimes. Townsend in particular needed taking down a peg; the man who had left a career as a costermonger to serve under Sir John Fielding had now gained fame for his habit of dressing in the same manner as the Regent. Crump glanced once more at the building before him, noting the unusual absence of the bow window set, the most prominent of whom was the irreverent Beau Brummell, and approached the front door.
    Crump’s entrance into this particular bastion of the aristocracy was one that he would long remember, and not for the warmth of the welcome he received. The doorman gazed upon him with raised eyebrows, apparently struck dumb; the hall porter, of a more timid disposition, gasped and looked ready to swoon; while the turbaned Negro page, whose duty was to collect hats and coats, snickered.
    The doorman recovered his voice. “ I believe that you seek the tradesmen’s entrance, my good man. If you will proceed around the building—” His words ended in an abrupt expulsion of breath, occasioned by the application of Crump’s gilt-headed baton to his midriff.
    “Aye, so you’d like to think, laddie.” Crump flourished a card identifying him as a peace officer on the staff of the Chief Magistrate, Bow Street.
    The doorman wore a face of perfect horror. “I’ve been engaged through the usual channels,” advised Crump. “Kindly conduct me to the owner of this establishment.”
      The doorman recovered sufficiently to close the door. “That I cannot do, Mr. Raggett being prostrated by the theft of his silver plate. Instead you will have to deal with Mr. Throckmorton.”
    Crump’s smile was jovial. “Very well. But first you will conduct me through these premises and acquaint me with the various means of access. Before we set about investigating a robbery, my lad, we must ascertain whether entrance was effected by some outside agency, or whether it was committed from within.” His bright eyes alighted on the hall porter. “Which happens more often than you might think, servants being every bit as susceptible to temptation as the criminal class.” The porter blanched and leaned for support on the smirking page. A bright lad, thought Crump, and filed away the observation for future reference.
    Thus it was that plain Mr. Crump of Bow Street was conducted on a tour of White’s select club, founded over a century earlier as a chocolate house, and now famed as a gambling establishment where fortunes were made and lost and family estates abruptly changed hands. There were few club members in evidence, perhaps due to the inconveniences that had resulted from the robbery, perhaps because gentlemen who gambled until dawn could hardly be expected to rise before noon. Crump studied the notice board in the lobby where prostitutes posted cards; he passed the green baize tables where gentlemen, hats tilted over their eyes, played whist until their pockets were emptied or exhaustion overtook them; he visited the kitchens where were