Page 61 of Molly Boys
“Ain’t gonna bring my boy back, is it?” she snapped, shoving harder at the door. Once again Archie stopped her.
“Then make sure he pays for what he did to your son,” Archie said firmly. “Make sure he’s punished for his crimes.”
She stared at Archie, the whites of her eyes yellowed and bloodshot and her thin, pursed lips almost colourless. Slowly she relented, letting go of the door and walking into the darkness of her house.
Taking it as an invitation, Archie opened the door further and checked there was no one but Mabel within before hustling Jack and Stanley inside. Following them, he closed the door with a quiet click and found the house wasn’t a house at all, merely a single room. A straw sleeping pallet with dirty sheets and a thin blanket was tucked against one wall and a tiny stove stood in the corner. Mabel had seated herself in the single wooden chair beside it and slurped from a bottle of cheap beer.
“Mabel?” Archie asked as Everett and Jack stood back.
“You, boy.” Her bleary eyes landed on Jack. “Yer know better than to bring the law ‘ere, be careful Rackstraw’s boys don’t find yer.”
“Mabel,” Archie repeated, drawing her attention from the boy. “Can you tell us what happened to Peter?”
“Peter.” Her voice hitched and her eyes filled with tears. “I told ‘im. I told ‘im,” she muttered, shaking her head. “No good would come from bein’ one of Simon Blackwell’s boys.” She hiccuped and wiped her snotty nose on the back of her hand as tears slid down her face, leaving track marks on her grubby skin. “I knew he was unnatural, I knew what he did with boys, but I told ‘im, I begged ‘im not to join Blackwell’s whores. He said we needed the money. I ain’t well, yer see.”
Archie saw perfectly well, but the woman’s alcoholism was not uncommon in any part of London, rich or poor.
“After the other boys was killed, he promised me he wasn’t gonna do that no more, but Blackwell wouldn’t let ‘im go. Said he owned ‘im.” She choked out another sob. “What that monster did to my boy, holes in his arms, split up his back…” She gagged and took another swig of her beer. “They wouldn’t even let me bury ‘im.”
“Who?” Archie asked.
“Rackstraw and the others, didn’t want no one to know.” She hiccupped again, wiping her nose on her arm and smearing snot up the filthy sleeve of her dress. “They b-burned them, those poor boys. My Peter and the others, they shoulda been buried proper, now they’re damned. They’re going to hell, all of them.”
She broke down, resting her arm on a tiny table beside her and burying her face as she sobbed and sobbed. Archie retrieved a penny from his pocket and laid it on the table beside her.
“I’m so sorry,” Archie murmured. “I hope you find whatever peace you can.”
He turned to Stanley, surprised when he saw sympathy in his expression for the grieving mother. Most of the upper classes didn’t trouble themselves overmuch with poor folk, but Stanley was different, which only served to intrigue Archie further .
“Come, Jack.” Stanley squeezed the boys shoulder gently. “There’s nothing we can do for her now.”
The three of them left the sad dingy room and stepped out onto the street. Archie could sense a change in the atmosphere the moment his shoes touched the cobbles. They were in trouble. Women stood in their open doorways, watching with hollow eyes. Children sat on stoops and lined the tenements along the narrow street…waiting.
“Oh no,” Jack gasped, his voice filled with fear.
Archie turned to see, at the end of the street, at least ten men approaching them slowly. Burly and rough looking, most of them held stout cudgels and clubs.
“It’s Rackstraw’s boys.” Jack backed up, his eyes wide with terror. “RUN!”
Archie turned but the boy had already disappeared.
Stanley blinked. “My goodness, he is fast.”
“Give me your money,” Archie said urgently.
“What?”
“Whatever coins you have, give them to me,” he said. Stanley did as he was asked, grabbing the coins from his pocket and handing them over. Archie added the few meagre pennies he had in his own possession and as the men approached, he whistled loudly to get the attention of the children before tossing them in the air.
The men broke into a run but the coins had already fallen, rolling in every direction across the narrow street. The children scrambled for the money, filling the street and tripping the approaching men, causing chaos.
Archie didn’t think, he grabbed Stanley’s hand.
“RUN!” he yelled and dragged Stanley with him.
They ran and ran, down narrow alleys and even narrower streets with the sound of pursuit not far behind them. Archie turned and dragged them both down an alley so narrow they had to turn sideways to fit their shoulders through. They hurried as much as they could when Archie saw an opening in the wall. It was a small alcove, narrow but about the height of a man.
Shoving Stanley into it, he crowded in beside him, then lifted his hand and pressed it to Stanley’s mouth when he tried to speak. Archie raised a finger to his lips and listened intently at the sounds of the men chasing them pass the narrow alley. They were both breathing heavily and Archie sagged in relief.