The Darkest Walk of Crime Read Online Free PDF Page B

to the detective branch of the service since his first day of duty,
but obtaining it had been an anticlimax. Unconsciously, he placed two fingers
beneath his leather stock; he would certainly not miss the constant chafing at
the tender skin of his throat.
    “Right then, Constable. What do
you think of these?” Reaching into the valise, Smith produced a bound notebook
and placed it carefully on Field’s desk.
    Mendick bent closer. Each page
held a pen-and-ink sketch of the head and shoulders of a man, with two
paragraphs of detailed description. “These are well executed.” He read the first
paragraph.
    Mr James Tyler, born 16 th January 1810 in Maidstone, Kent. Ten years’ service in G or
King’s Cross Division , transferred to the Criminal Investigation
Department, Scotland Yard, on its conception in 1844.
    He skipped to the next:
    Mr William Gilbert, born 3 rd June 1809 in Peckham, London Eleven years’ service in H or
Stepney Division, transferred to the Criminal Investigation Department,
Scotland Yard in 1845.
    The third face stared at him,
the features familiar.
    Mr George Foster, born 13 th February 1810 in Carlisle . Fifteen years’ service
in A or Westminster Division, transferred to the Criminal
Investigation Department, Scotland Yard on its conception in 1844 .
    Mendick looked up. “These appear
to be details and pictures of Scotland Yard officers, sir.”
    “That’s exactly what they are,
Constable. Each page gives a picture and a written description of one
plain-clothes man.” Smith leaned closer. “But more important is from where this
information originated.”
    Mendick was already used to
Smith’s use of a dramatic pause to highlight anything he considered of
importance. He waited and wondered about the significance of the notebook while
balancing his mounting desire for the brandy against the knowledge of its
subsequent effect.
    “A man died to secure this book,
Constable. It was recovered from these so-called Physical Force Chartists.”
Smith leaned back, watching Mendick’s reaction.
    Mendick drew a quick breath. “I
understand, sir. How did they get the information about our detectives?”
    “We do not yet know that,
Constable, but we suppose that they have somebody working within Scotland Yard,
perhaps a clerk or similar. Pray stop for an instant and consider the
ramifications.”
    Mendick nodded. “If we presume
that the Chartists have other copies of this book, then they would recognise
any established Scotland Yard officer who is sent to them, which means that an
unknown man must be used.”
    “Precisely,” Smith agreed. “And
that is where you come in.” He leaned back once more. “One of our people found
this notebook in Manchester and brought it to a local police sergeant named Ogden.
Unfortunately, our man died doing his duty.”
    “I see, sir.”
    “The Chartists butchered him,
Constable . He may still have been alive when they tore him to pieces.”
Smith waited to allow the information to sink in before he continued.
    “Sergeant Ogden seems to be a
good officer, but we do not consider him suitable material for this type of
undercover work, and we need more information. We require somebody on the
inside, somebody the Chartists will trust.” He raised his eyebrows, his eyes
intense.
    “I see, sir. You want me to take the place of the
officer the Chartists killed.”
    “There is more.” Inspector Field
had been listening, his eyes fixed on Mr Smith. “And it may be the most
important point of all.”
    Mendick fortified himself with
more brandy, waiting for whatever horror Field unleashed on him. He could feel
the spirits working on his mind, muddling his thoughts yet simultaneously
pressing him to drink more.
    “You see, Constable, we think
that there is a new mind directing the activities of the Physical Force
Chartists. Feargus O’Connor, who, as you know, has led them for years, has
advocated force but has never backed his rhetoric with action. Indeed,