3 April, 1871
Benton and the MacGreggor boy had found a long lost diamond, and what a beauty it was, too. Unfortunately, though it was the subject of a twenty-seven year old mystery, it was not the case they had come to Lancashire to solve.
The burglar they sought was still missing. Dearden House now had an even more valuable prize in the safe in the study. The only inhabitants of the house were two elderly spinsters, a young unmarried girl, and a few servants--hardly any deterent to a hardened criminal. Benton and Ruth, along with Mrs. Cuthbert and the young woman with all the knives, had decided to spend the night.
Benton dreamt of attended a village church fete, in the company of his dear wife, their two newborn children, and myself. The children have yet to be born, and I have technically departed the world some years now, but it was his dream and it would have been rude to point out the contradiction. Besides, they looked so happy pushing to two prams. I didn't want to spoil the mood.
For a church fete, it was surprisingly quiet. But then, Benton's dreams are sometimes unusual that way. Several of their colleagues were in attendance, and that rather made up for the unnatural silence of the other attendees.
The daft Lieutenant was there, and somehow had the knife-girl on his arm. Mrs. Cuthbert was also in attendance. She and Ruth got into some sort of discussion about the children. I didn't quite follow it, and they no doubt would not have appreciated my butting in if I had said anything.
Benton and Ruth both seemed a bit upset about having children. I suspect that's just nerves. I must admit there were moments when Benton was a babe when I felt quite overwhelmed at the responsibility.
The children--that is to say, two of the children associated with the household where Ruth works--were making a bit of noise. Edward was making a run on the Aunt Sally game, while Wilhelmina was giving the village children a lesson in safeblowing. I suppose it makes sense, given who her grandfather is. Benton seems to think that she will not go down that path, but one can never predict how a child will turn out. We just do what we can and pray that our efforts are at least adequate.
I seem to have gotten off the topic, and Squire MacGreggor isn't around to take offense, either. Pity.
The little lesson in safeblowing went from chalkboard to train in rather abrupt fashion, as things often do in dreams, and when the safe blew open, who did I see about the grab the loot, but The Shark--Sean Malloy himself. As a boy Sean had been involved in a number of malicious misdemeanors and seemed well on his way to carrying on the family business in felonies. We rounded him up a few times--usually smash a grab, as I recall, and he was obviously not the ringleader, so the magistrate was a bit lenient on him, and as a distant relative on his mother's side was ready to sponsor his apprenticeship in longshoring, he was sent off to Liverpool.
I remember reading about his arrest in connection with some large burglary, which seemed a bit out of his depth, but perhaps he had grown more than muscles while working the docks. However, he died in the nasty diptheria epidemic of '44, along with nearly three-quarters of the prisoners in the Manchester nick.
Well, dream or no dream, I know my duty. A crime was in progress and I needed to do something about it. I clapped the irons on him. He expressed surprise that I was there, having heard that I was dead. I replied that I'd heard the same about him, yet there we both were.
Benton woke up, the dream came to an end, and I was back in my study, where I could work on that family portrait I've been trying to paint.
Benton and the others had to check the house, since it was the sound of breaking glass that had awakened them. Miss Helen Shorrock had been sleep walking, dreaming that she was playing Aunt Sally, and three shies a penny, in the church fete. Odd how similar the dream was.
There was no sign of burglars, but Benton and Ruth spent the rest of the night sleeping fitfully in the study, just to be safe.
After breakfast, MacGreggor and Mrs Salmalin arrived. Mrs Cuthbert and Mrs Salmalin retired to one of the guest rooms to pursue their own inquiries, while MacGreggor and Benton questioned the spinsters about the possible connection of the Kennington Road burglaries.
Miss Shorrock and Miss Agnes recalled that their mother's maid had been a local girl named Cooper. Miss Agnes recalled that her Christian name was Daisy. Mrs. Shorrock had left instructions in her will that certain pieces of her jewelry were to be given to Miss Cooper. After Mrs Shorrock's death, Miss Cooper had married a young man named Eccles. Then she and her husband went off to the city where he hoped to open a furniture shop.
The sisters also recalled that Miss Cooper's name had come up again, years later, after their father's death, when Mr Horace Shorrock came to believe his father had cheated him of some of the inheritance due him from his mother. Miss Shorrock and Miss Agnes recalled that Horace said the former maid could substantiate his claim. The Shorrock sisters concluded from this that Horace had contacted Mr and Mrs Eccles in London, and that the Mrs Eccles knew the contents of the will. Which was understandable--a lady's maid is often privy to her mistress' secrets.
Benton and MacGreggor were now certain that the burglar had stolen personal papers from the three establishments on Kennington Road in hopes for finding the diary of Miss Daisy Cooper, which the burglar suspected contained information which could lead to the hiding place of the Hari diamond. This could be a clue to the burglar's identity. He was probably someone who had heard Horace's accusations about the will.
They thought it likely that this person was Sean Malloy. Or perhaps a relative or friend of Malloy's who had heard the story. So Benton wanted my and Squire MacGreggor to go nose around Mr Frederick Shorrock's house and see if the servant there bore a resemblance to The Shark. I thought it was a long shot. Malloy being dead and all, but it was possible. So we looked into it.
The lead didn't pan out. Benton seemed a bit disappointed when we brought back the news. It was nice to be useful, but I was just as happy to get back to my painting.
MacGreggor sent Benton to Manchester to retrieve Algie Timson, since Timson could identify several members of the Malloy clan on site. Our dear Ruth went along, to do some shopping. Mrs Salmalin and Henri accompanied her. Ruth spent most of the trip in bookstores, which is understandable. She and Mrs Salmalin also went to the jail to talk to the Records Clerk. I don't know what she is thinking. A woman in her condition should steer clear of such unsavoury places. I told Benton he should look after her better than that, but he won't listen.
Squire MacGreggor tells me his son is just the same. Never listen to us. What's the point of us hanging about if our advice isn't to be heeded. Ah, well, my duty is my duty.
Benton was quite tied up with the Chief Constable and a local magistrate, getting the proper permissions to take Algie back to Edenfield. He sorted it out eventually.
While we were busy in Manchester, MacGreggor continued his inquiries in and around Edenfield, including, I heard later, a rather amusing interview with the Editor of the local Whig newspaper. He also spoke with the railway stationmaster and determined the Frederick Shorrock and his servant had traveled to London just before the first of the Kennington Road burglaries occurred. Meanwhile Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Bertilde, Sir Cosmo, and Lady Cowperthwaite had spent the day at Dearden House, keeping a watchful eye on all and sundry. Mr O'Flaherty must have had an interesting day, indeed, as I overheard him asking Sir Spencer and the Inspector if they had ever heard of a boxer named Gentleman Jimmy Maws. I wonder if he is any relation to Masher Maws?
Benton and Ruth, along with Mrs Cuthbert and Miss Bertilde, spent Monday night at Dearden House once more. It began as a quiet night, until the young footman, George, rapped at the window of the room where Ruth and Benton were dozing. He told them that Frederick Shorrock's manservant, Sullivan, was trying to break into the conservatory. George was aware of this because he had been sent, by Edward, to the cottage to try to retrieve a discarded whisky bottle. I learned later that if the bottle had been Sullivan's, Mrs Salmalin and Mrs Cuthbert would have been able to use it as a focus for a divination spell to determine Sullivan's movements for the last several days. In any case, while George was at the cottage, Sullivan and made a quiet exit an walked down the road. George had followed.
Benton, the dog, and I circled around the outside of the house to try to come at Sullivan from behind. Meanwhile Ruth roused Mrs Cuthbert and Miss Bertilde and would make their way to the Conservatory from inside the house.
By the time we reached the Conservatory, Sullivan was already inside. And he had spotted the ladies and was threatening them with a knife. Poor fellow. Never stood a chance. Miss Bertilde's sword disarmed him and nearly took off a few fingers in the process. Mrs Cuthbert's aim with a fireplace poker was quite good. Benton and the dog each got a piece of him, as well. I barely had time to draw my billy club.
He was quite unconscious, and, I was surprised to discover, he was Sean Malloy.
Perhaps my eyesight isn't quite what it once was. Or perhaps he's disguised himself in someway. It doesn't matter. Algie Timson positively identified him. A search of the cottage Frederick Shorrock is renting turned up several items stolen from the shops on Kennington Road, including a diary of Mrs Daisy Eccles, nee Cooper.
Twenty-seven years ago when the epidemic was killing so many prisoners in Manchester jail, Sean's cellmate, a man named Sullivan, had died, and had been misidentified as Sean Malloy. Posing as Sullivan, Malloy was sentenced to two years hard labour in Australia. Once there, he eventually tracked down Horace Shorrock, and blackmailed him into hiring him as a gentlemen's gentlemen.
So Malloy was at Mr Horace Shorrock's bedside the last days of his life. During those last feverish hours, Horace must have let it slip that the diamond was still hidden somewhere in the house. After Horace died, Malloy convinced Frederick to return to England on the pretext of re-establishing ties with his relatives. Malloy hoped to find the diamond and become a very rich man.
Sean "The Shark" Malloy is behind bars once more. He has many crimes to answer for.
Now that that's sorted out, perhaps I can finish this family portrait.
Proceed to Even more breaks from routine
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