Page 15 of Molly Boys
They both turned to look as a young man of about nineteen years scurried into the room breathlessly.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Dr Shaw.” He pulled his jacket off and hung it on a nearby hook, followed by his hat, then shoved his hand through his brown hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen forward in his eyes. Grabbing a leather apron much like Dr Shaw wore, he hooked the corner to the top button of his waistcoat and wrapped the strings around his slim waist several times before tying it. Rolling his shirtsleeves to his elbows,he turned to the two men. “Dr Brownstone’s lecture took forever. He talked for so long, some of the other students fell asleep.”
Shaw huffed in amusement. “Doesn’t surprise me, pompous prick. The man only talks to hear the sound of his own voice.” He turned to Archie. “This is Richard Lowcroft. Richard, this is Inspector Franklin of H Division. You’ll probably see him around here frequently as we’re assigned all the autopsies from Whitechapel.”
“Inspector Franklin?” Richard inclined his head. “I’ve heard about you. Is it true you’re the youngest man to be promoted to Detective inspector?”
“So they tell me.” Archie shrugged. “But I’m hardly young. I’m nearly thirty.”
“Still, it’s impressive,” Richard replied, fascinated. “You must be very clever.”
“Richard,” Dr Shaw interrupted. “You’re here to learn, not to gossip. Stop chattering away like a lady’s maid and bring my instruments, please.”
“Sorry, Dr Shaw.” Richard smiled even as he flushed and hurried across the room.
Archie watched as the young man selected several wicked-lookingsilver medical instruments and laid them out on a tray. He was just turning back toward the table when Shaw pulled the sheet back,revealing the victim.
There was a sudden loud clatter in the stillness of the room as the tray slid from Richard’s fingers and scattered the contents across the floor. His eyes were wide with shock as he stared at the body on the table.
“What the devil?” Shaw spun around and eyed the fallen instruments with a frown. “Richard…?”
Archie held up his hand to cut off Shaw’s words, his assessing gaze locked on the young man.
“You know who he is, don’t you?” Archie surmised.
Richard didn’t answer. He drew in a shuddering breath and took an involuntary step toward the table, his pained gaze skimming over the body.
“W-what happened to him?” His voice came out as a dry croak.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Archie said quietly. “Who is he?”
Shaw dropped his hand on Richard’s shoulder, squeezing gently as the young man swallowed hard and answered, “Charlie… his name’s Charlie Wakefield.”
“You knew him?” Archie asked and he nodded.
“Who would hurt him?” he whispered, his eyes glassy with tears. “He was…” He shook his head as he blinked back the wetness in his eyes. “He was kind and gentle.” He turned to stare at Archie.
“Was there anyone who wished him any harm?” Archie asked, choosing his words carefully.
Richard shook his head. “No one had a bad word to say about him. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt him.”
“What else can you tell me about him? Employment? Living arrangements?” Archie pressed.
“He worked as a clerk for a shipping company.”
“Do you know the name?” Archie reached into his pocket and withdrew his notebook, flipping it open to a clean page.
Richard shook his head again. “I don’t remember, it was an unusual name though. Something with a flower in it, I think.”
“And where did he live?”
“He had lodgings in Limehouse Street, just around the corner from the Drunken Duck. We used to have a pint in there from time to time,” Richard murmured as he stared at Charlie’s face.
“When did you last see him?” Archie tilted his head slightly as he studied the young medical student. No sooner than he’d asked the question Richard’s back had stiffened and his lips thinned. His eyes widened a fraction and he cleared his throat. “Um, a few days ago.”
“Where?”
“T-the Duck, we had a pint,” Richard said.