MR. WRENCH’S WANDERINGS――THE SEARCH AFTER A MURDERER.
It is astonishing how long a criminal may be at large after he is
“wanted,” provided he gets away from his well-known haunts. Murderers
have contrived to elude the vigilance of the police for a considerable
space of time, and some have never been arrested for the crime they
were supposed to have committed.
Some few years back two boys committed a murderous assault on an old
lady at Norton Folgate. After leaving their victim for dead, the young
scoundrels made off. Months elapsed and no trace of them was found;
and it was by the merest accident in the world that one of them was
discovered. He was convicted upon a charge of larceny, and while
undergoing penal servitude for the same, a boy, residing in the
neighbourhood of Norton Folgate, recognised him. Luckily for the
would-be assassins, the old lady recovered from the terrible injuries
she had received, and her two assailants were tried and sentenced to
penal servitude for the brutal assault.
We have a similar instance in Good, who was ultimately convicted of
murdering a woman, and cutting up the body of his victim, at
Roehampton, in Surrey. He made his escape, and many months elapsed
before he was discovered. He was a groom at the time of the murder,
but had in early life worked as a brickmaker, and it was while
following this occupation, in a remote district in the north of
England, that he was discovered. But his identity was established by
the merest accident; and had he been a little more cautious the
probability is that he would have got clean off.
Mr. Wrench felt that he had a difficult task in hand. He searched in
vain for Giles Chudley at most of the cheap lodging-houses and
thieves’ haunts in the metropolis. He sent notices off to the
police-stations in the provinces, but he was no nearer to the
suspected man.
There was one great difficulty in the matter. Mr. Wrench did not know
Chudley――neither did any of his coadjutors.
He had a description given him of the man, but this was very vague,
and could not be relied on. Nevertheless, our detective took every
possible means of tracing out the fugitive.
After a rigid and exhaustive search in London and the suburbs, Mr.
Wrench began to think seriously of his next best course of action.
Certainly the case, as far as it had gone at present, did not look
very promising.
Chudley was country born and country bred. The chances were that he
would secrete himself in some sparsely-inhabited rural district. The
question was, where to look, and this Mr. Wrench could not very well
determine.
From information received at Scotland-yard there was reason to suppose
that a man answering in many points to the description given of
Chudley had been seen tramping along one of the roads leading to
Liverpool.
When Mr. Wrench was put in possession of this fact, it at once
occurred to him that the murderer of Mr. Philip Jamblin was journeying
to that town for the purpose of shipping himself for one of the
colonies.
He at once determined on paying a visit to Liverpool without further
delay. But here another difficulty stood in the way. How could he
possibly make sure of his man, even assuming he was fortunate enough
to come across him?
But Mr. Wrench was not easily baffled. He telegraphed to Lord
Ethalwood, begging him as a special favour to send the girl, Nell
Fulford, off at once to Liverpool, with instructions for her to go to
the police-station and inquire for him, Wrench.
The earl was quite as anxious as Mr. Wrench was to bring the matter to
a successful issue. He deputed Mr. Jamblin to communicate with Nelly,
and make known to her his wishes.
She at once expressed her willingness to go in search of the murderer
of her sweetheart.
Joe Doughty, who heard of the intended expedition, begged of his
master to be permitted to go also, and so, after a few hours’ notice,
Nell and Joe set out together.
Upon their arrival at Liverpool they at once made their way to the
police station. A constable was directed to conduct them to the house
where Mr. Wrench was stopping.
“Ha’ee got any clue to the scoundrel, sir?” said Joe, when he caught
sight of the detective. “I do hope un ’as.”
“Not at present,” returned Mr. Wrench. “Don’t you be too forward, my
man. Just keep your tongue between your teeth. I don’t want anybody in
this town to know our business, and an indiscreet word or two may
spoil all. So don’t you open your mouth about the matter. Don’t say
anything to a single individual. Do you understand?”
“Ah, I see, beg pardon; I won’t say a word.”
“Very well, that’s all right, my man. When I need your services,
which, to say the truth, I hope I shall shortly, I’ll let you know. In
the meantime keep dark, be as close as an oyster.”
Joe nodded and scratched his head. He came to the conclusion that Mr.
Wrench was a wonderful man, and he was overawed by his manner, which
was incisive and commanding.
“And my dear Miss Fulford,” said the detective, turning towards his
female visitor; “it is, I am sure, very kind and good of you to come
all this long distance to further the ends of justice, especially as
you are at the present time not in your usual health.”
“I dunno care ’bout myself, sir,” returned Nell. “I would go to the
end of the world to hunt down the vile wretch――who――who ha’ taken an
innocent and honourable man’s life.”
“Certainly, of course, a very proper feeling――very proper indeed,”
cried Wrench. “I wish everyone was of the same opinion as yourself,
Miss Fulford.”
“And I am at your service, sir. Have you met with anybody――any
suspected person?”
“Not at present. You will have to wait in this town till I have made
all the inquiries necessary.”
“Ah!” murmured Nell, who was disappointed at not being engaged on
active service at once.
Mr. Wrench conducted her to a lodging he had engaged, and told Joe
that he was to remain with him.
Mr. Wrench’s first night in Liverpool was spent in examining a number
of low lodging houses, which were used by tramps, thieves, and the
lower class of itinerants.
He took with him Joe Doughty and a sergeant belonging to the
constabulary of the town.
He was an experienced hand, and knew most of the habitations of this
class.
In many of these places there were assembled scores of the most
degraded and vicious members of society, who were lying in ambush, as
it were, like tigers in a jungle, ready to spring upon and make a prey
of anyone who came within the precincts of their lair.
Prisons, tread-wheels, penal settlements, gallows, were all vain and
impotent as a punishment.
The ragged schools and city missions were of no avail as preventives
of crime, so long as the wretched dens of infamy, brutality, and vice,
termed “padding kens,” continued their daily and nightly work of
demoralisation.
Mr. Wrench and the Liverpool constable entered one of these wretched
receptacles for the homeless and lawless. As the miserable occupants
were stretched on their dirty shake-downs, the policeman flashed his
bull’s-eye in all directions.
Some of the occupants rolled over, and covered their faces with their
begrimed bed-clothes, while others were fast asleep heedless of the
visit of the “crushers,” and many of them for the nonce feigned to be
slumbering.
It would be difficult, and indeed almost impossible, to describe to
the reader the revolting nature of many of the places visited by the
detective and his companions.
As the policeman flashed his light on the men in these unwholesome
dens, Joe Doughty examined each countenance, but failed to find the
man of whom they were in search.
One of the largest establishments of this class was kept by an
Irishman named O’Flanagan, and after an inspection of a variety of
these places the searchers bent their steps in the direction of that
well-known place.
As they entered they were greeted by the mistress of the
establishment, who was standing behind a sort of counter, which
separated the front entrance from her own private parlour.
“Och, good luck to ye, Mr. Wrinch,” cried the woman, in a strong Irish
accent. “An’ it’s mighty plazed I am to set eyes on your own swate
fatures. Won’t ye be afther coming in and saying a kind word or two to
a poor old sinful crathur like myself?”
“How are you, Biddy, and how are you getting on?” said Wrench.
“Oh, by the powers, I’m glad to see ye――an’ sure, I thought you had
forgotten your ould frind entirely――an’ bedad, your broight frind’s
with ye――well, the more the welcome. Step inside, Mr. Wrinch――an’
sure, the masther’s not at home, but that’s no rason that you should
not be spaking to his wife.”
The three personages went behind the bar and entered the little room
beyond.
“Ah, sure you are as welcome as the flowers in May, Mr. Wrinch, I need
not tell you that――and what will you be afther takin――you and your
frinds?”
“Nothing just now――we’ve come on business.”
“Oh, sure now, it’s business ye’ve come on,” cried the woman in an
altered tone. “An’ I ’spose, if I may make so bould――I s’pose now,
that it’s afther some dirty blackguard, that you are――an’ bad luck to
him.”
“Something of that sort, I must confess,” returned the detective, with
a smile, “and for old acquaintance sake, you’ll serve me if you can.”
“Faith an’ I will, if it lies in me power; and isn’t it a good turn ye
did me when I was in the depths of throuble――and am I likely to forget
it? Divil a bit, an’ what might it be that you may be wanting me to
do――Mr. Wrinch?”
“You mustn’t speak quite so loud, Biddy,” said the detective.
“An’ its qute I’ll be as any church mouse.”
Mr. Wrench drew from his pocket the bill relating to the murder in
Larchgrove-road; but, unfortunately reading was not one of Mrs.
Flanagan’s accomplishments.
She seemed unable to comprehend that the document was headed with the
word murder.
“Och, by the powers,” she ejaculated, “it’s some murthering spalpeen
you’ll be afther, Mr. Wrinch?”
“Yes, and a hundred pounds reward will be presented to any person or
persons who shall give any such information as may lead to his
conviction,” said the detective. “I will read you a description of the
man of whom we are in search.”
“Shure now, it isn’t blood money I’d be taking,” said Mrs. Flanagan,
after the detective had done reading; “no, not even to save my own
blessed life; but if I could put you on the track of the murtherin’
villain I would.”
“Have you seen a man answering to the description I have given?”
“Faix, no――divil a one. I wish I had. Whisht now, do you think he’s in
Liverpool?”
“I have every reason to suppose so――that is why I have paid you this
visit. We must have a look at all the people here.”
Oh, by Jasus, ye’ll not find the dirty blackguard here, Mr. Wrinch.
It’s mighty particular we are, both Dennis and myself. We don’t let
beds to onrespectable piple. It’s thrue now, some years ago I was in a
little bit o’ thrubble, as you know Mr. Wrinch, but ye see, darling,
it taught me a lesson, and bedad I’ve profited by it intirely. Och,
but it’s particular we are, both Dennis and myself, an’ anyway, Mr.
Wrinch, you don’t suppose that we would harbour thieves or murderers.”
“I don’t suppose you do. I’m not accusing you, woman. All I say is, if
you have seen a man answering the description given, tell me so
frankly. You had better do so.”
“Do ye hear ’im now? Did ye iver hear the loike o’ that?” cried Mrs.
Flanagan. “As if I wouldn’t tell him at onst, if I had it in my power,
which it’s sorry I am I haven’t. More’s the pity. But ye’d better have
a look at all the boys, and satisfy yerself. Mother o’ Marcy, but this
is a bad business. An’ is it to any o’ the lodging houses that ye’ve
bin, Mister Wrinch.”
“Yes, we have, but you, being so well acquainted with the town and its
people, would be more likely to detect a stranger.”
“Oh, sure you are complimintary,” exclaimed the woman, who rose from
the seat, and conducted her visitors to a large shed-looking place,
which was one of the dormitories of her establishment.
The detective and his two companions passed through this place, and
examined the features of the inmates. Many of them present were well
known to both the police-officers, and some were strangers, but there
was not one there answering the description of the man.
They returned to the landlady’s private room no wiser than before.
“Shure, didn’t I tell ye that ye couldn’t find the murtherin’
blackguard here. Oh, its careful and particular we are, Misther
Wrinch, and small blame to us; haven’t I three childer of my own to
look afther, an’ haven’t I known what it is to offind the law? That’s
our rason for our pickin’ and choosin’ our lodgers.”
“That will do Biddy――you are a model landlady, I dare say.”
“Faith that I am, mine’s the best managed, ‘padding ken,’ in all
Liverpool; it’s kept dacent and sweet, and used by the betherest sort
of tramps, and such like, and it’s sorry I am that you can’t find the
big ugly blackgurd you are looking for, but if Biddy Flanagan can do
ye a good turn, never fear, but she’ll do it. May be you might find
the man ye want at the fair.”
“What fair?” inquired Wrench, quickly.
“At Nantwich Hoiring Fair. As your man is in the agricultural line may
be he’ll be afther going to the fair.”
“A good suggestion,” said the detective. “When is it held?”
“On the 29th of this month.”
“Thanks, it’s worth consideration, but we won’t detain you longer, and
so good night.”
“But you’ll be for calling agin, I suppose, before you lave the town?”
“Oh, certainly. We shall not lose sight of you. Besides, you know you
may pick up some information.”
The landlady looked mysterious, and nodded.
Her three visitors took their departure.
“She knows more than she cares to tell,” said the sergeant to Wrench.
“You think so?”
“Yes I do.”
“Then we shall have to pay her another visit.”
“There are only two ways to work her. Either to weedle her or put the
screw on.”
“We’ve nothing to put the screw on for――have we?”
“I can say we have, but she’s to be worked.”
“By money?”
“Not by the reward; that she wouldn’t accept upon any consideration.”
Mr. Wrench returned to his lodgings very much disappointed. He had
hoped to gain some information as to the whereabouts of his man, but
his search in the various “padding kens” of Liverpool had been of no
avail.
He determined upon going to the docks on the following day, with the
view of ascertaining, if possible, what vessels were about to set
sail, and who were their passengers.
Liverpool is a big place, and it is not possible to do much in the way
of hunting for a person therein in one day, or indeed in a week.
[Sidenote: No. 30.]
[Illustration: “WALK UP, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN; JUST GOING TO BEGIN!”
HE SHOUTED.]
Mr. Wrench did not despair. Something might turn up in the course of a
few hours which would alter the aspect of affairs most materially.
He felt certain that Mrs. O’Flanagan could aid him if she chose, but
he would not go to her again till he had exhausted his other
resources.
In the morning he proceeded by himself to the docks. He went over
several vessels, had intercourse with shipowners, captains,
stevedores, and provision merchants――was, in short, industriously
occupied till nightfall, but failed to reach the desired end.
It was likely enough that he had been misinformed.
Giles Chudley might not be in the neighbourhood of Liverpool after
all.
But it would not do to arrive at that conclusion too hastily.
The police informed him that more than one person had declared a man
answering his description――or at any rate, something near it――had been
seen within a few miles distant from the town.
But then, men of his class are so much alike, and people are so prone
to jump at conclusions.
Mr. Wrench knew but too well the difficulties attending identification――
mistakes were so frequently made.
He spent another day visiting all sorts of odd places in the town, and
at night he went to the music-halls, taking Joe Doughty with him.
To say the truth, this honest countryman was having a fine time of it;
he had seen more of life in the few days he had been under the
detective’s charge than he had in the whole course of his preceding
career.
Doughty was entertained, and considered that he was playing an
important part; but he would have been far better pleased at finding
the murderer of Master Philip.
He was under the impression that there was not much chance of their
meeting with Giles Chudley, but as far as that was concerned he was
not a competent judge, not having had any experience in the art of
thief-catching.
In the course of the following day, Mr. Wrench paid another visit to
Mrs. O’Flanagan.
On this occasion he deemed it prudent to go alone, being under the
impression that the loquacious landlady might be more communicative in
the absence of strangers.
“An’ sure, now, it was my own self as said you wouldn’t be afther
laving the town without jist giving us a frindly call; an’ it’s happy
and proud I am to see ye, Mister Wrinch. Any news about the murtherin’
divil?”
“None at all, Biddy. My search has not been attended with any
satisfactory result.”
“Oh, maybe the thief o’ the world has hooked it intirely, an’ won’t
show up at all.”
“It looks like it. But I say, missus,” whispered Wrench, in a
confidential tone, “you might be a little more candid.”
“Oh, bother! What’s that you’d be afther saying? Do you think I’d kape
onything from the likes o’ ye?”
“I hope not.”
“Whist! aisy now. Jist come here. Aye that’s it. Well, thin, you
mustn’t go a screamin’ and a roarin’ all over the town.”
“Dear me, of course not. Go on, Biddy.”
“Well, then, a few nights ago there was a strange chap whom nobody
seemed to know came here for a night’s lodging. Well, Wrinch, be the
powers, but I must spake my mind to an ould frind, the vagabond
couldn’t slape, so some of the bhoys tould me, and kept tossin’ about
and a sighin’ and a groanin’ all night. In the morning he was off,
never sayin’ nothink to nobody.”
“And his appearance was it anything like the description I read to
you?”
“Faith, it was――so Pat Murphy said.”
“And who is Pat Murphy?”
“He’s just one of the boys, one of the regular customers. Begorra he’s
as good as goold is Pat.”
“No doubt. Anything more?”
“Ah, now I dunno that there is. Oh, yes. Pat understood him to say
that he was bound for Nantwich.”
“Mrs. Flanagan I am deeply indebted to you; accept my best thanks,”
exclaimed Wrench. Should anything come of this, you will not be
forgotten.”
“Oh, kape me out of the bisnis intirely. Do not mintion what I’ve
tould ye to a soul, but make the best use of it. Sure now, don’t I owe
you a debt of gratitude? And it’s myself as nivir forgets a kindness.
Aisy now, kape dark, and say nothin’ about this or I shall be ruined.”
“You may rely upon me,” said the detective, again thanking his
informant as he passed out of the “padding ken.”
Mr. Wrench kept his word. The information he had received from Mrs.
Flanagan might be of essential service, or it might turn out a myth.
Anyway, he was determined upon following up the slender and uncertain
clue he had obtained so unexpectedly.
He at once set off to the town of Nantwich, and took with him Nell
Fulford and Joe Doughty.