Page 20 of Molly Boys

“Not yet, you’re not.” Francis laughed as he lifted his glass in a mock toast and drank.

“Dickie, what’s wrong?” Ev asked, his serious eyes locked on the boy.

Dickie let out a long shaky breath, toying with his glass as he rolled it between his palms. “I came to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Francis blinked in surprise.

“I—” Dickie rubbed his forehead as if trying to fend off a headache. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Francis picked up Dickie’s glass and handed it to him. “I find the beginning usually works best.”

Dickie took a sip before gently setting his glass down and raising his gaze to Francis. “I’ve just come from the mortuary where I was assisting the police surgeon with an autopsy.”

“My goodness.” Francis blinked. “How ghastly.”

“It’s part of my training.” Dickie shook his head. “And certainly not my first, but it isn’t the autopsy that worries me. It’s the victim.”

“The victim?” Francis repeated slowly. “Why? Who is it?”

“Charlie.” Dickie bit his lip as his eyes filled with tears.

“Charlie?” Everett frowned in confusion.

“Charles Wakefield.”

“The pretty little redhead with freckles?” Francis murmured as he leaned back in his seat.

“He was one of Colonel Greenbridge’s favourites, wasn’t he?” Ev tilted his head as he studied Dickie, who gave a small nod in answer to his question. “Am I wrong to assume he did not die from natural causes if the services of the police surgeon were required?”

Dickie shook his head as he sniffed and lifted a hand to wipe the tear tracks from his pale cheeks.

“What happened to him, Darling Dickie?” Francis asked the boy softly. Ev could hear the sympathy in his voice, it didn’t surprise him. Francis always did have a soft spot for those who needed him. After all, he’d done the same, taking Ev under his wing all those years ago.

“He was murdered,” Dickie said, his voice so low it was no more than a hoarse whisper. “In the most terrible way. Whoever did that to him was a-a monster.”

“I’m so terribly sorry. He was a sweet boy and undeserving of such an awful end,” Francis said. His tone was laced with genuine sadness, a sentiment Ev shared. Charlie had been such a lovely boy. Dickie was right, whoever had hurt him was a monster.

Dickie sniffed again, wiping the tears which continued to slide down to his jaw.

“The thing is, I’ve spoken to Thomas Billings who roomed with him at the lodgings on Limehouse Street. Charlie had been missing for two days before his body was discovered. I’m almost certain the last place he was seen was here with the colonel.”

Everett shared an uneasy look with France from across the table.

“There’s going to be a murder investigation. There was an inspector at the mortuary, name of Franklin. He’s good. Really good, he’s risen through the ranks quickly on his ability to solve the hardest cases and is making quite the name for himself. He’s like a bloodhound once he’s got the scent, he doesn’t give up.”

“The investigation could lead him here.” Everett frowned as Francis stood and began to pace the floor.

“This isn’t good.” Francis chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Were they able to identify him? Charlie, I mean?”

Dickie nodded as a brief flicker of guilt crossed his features. “It was my fault,” he admitted. “Inspector Franklin was watching me when I saw Charlie’s body. It was such a shock I couldn’t hide it, making it obvious I knew him. I’m so sorry. I could have kept quiet, I suppose, but Charlie deserves more than that. What that monster did to him was awful enough without having his name taken from him too. He doesn’t deserve to be buried nameless in some pauper’s grave.” Dickie choked back a sob.

“Hush now, darling boy,” Francis slid onto the seat next to him and took his hand. “Don’t you fret on it. We’ll see to it that the boy’s remains are taken care of and make sure it’s not traced back to us.”

“T-thank you, my lord, that’s incredibly generous of you.” Dickie sniffed as he looked at Francis with tear-swollen eyes.

“He was one of ours.” Francis patted Dickie’s hand. “And we take care of our own.”

“There is something else though.” Dickie took the handkerchief Everett handed him and wiped his nose. “You know how hard the Colonel likes to use his boys.”