The Price of Murder by Bruce Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

the same,” said I at last.
    “Well, I ain’t afeared of giving my name, and I ain’t ashamed of it, neither. Deuteronomy Plummer is what I’m called, and I am cursed with the burden of a sister.”
    “Alice Plummer?”
    “Just so. And she is the sole excuse for my presence here—her and the daughter she don’t deserve.”
    “You have a key,” said I, bringing attention to the obvious.
    “So I do,” said he.
    “How do you come by it?”
    “How do I come by it?” He burst forth with a great booming laugh at that. “How indeed! I pay the rent on this hovel. Ain’t I entitled to a key?” Pausing a moment, he looked me up and down and allowed his gaze to linger upon the pistol in my hand. “Now that I’ve accounted for myself, why don’t you put that bloody big pistol away and return the favor.”
    Though I did not immediately dispose of the pistol, which did clearly make him uneasy, I complied with his request and introduced myself as Sir John Fielding’s assistant at the Bow Street Court.
    “What trouble has she got herself into now?” asked Mr. Plummer.
    “Well, she may have got herself into a bit of it, but we won’t be sure till we find her and have a chance to talk with her.”
    “What sort of trouble?” he repeated in a tone of quiet urgency.
    I decided then and there that it would be best if he discussed that with Sir John. “I tell you what,” said I, “it would be best, I’m sure, if you were to ask that of the magistrate himself. He will tell you all that need be known and no doubt he’ll have some questions for you, as well. You see, it’s all a bit too complicated for me, I fear.”
    He seemed to accept that: “Well, all right. Ain’t that Sir John Fielding the one they call the Blind Beak?”
    “Yes,” said I, “that is how they call him—though not to his face.”
    “Oh, right you are. I’ll not make that mistake. Just give me a little time to straighten up here. I’m afraid my temper got the best of me, and I threw things round a bit.”
    “Right,” said I, “and I’ll lock up next door.”
     
I learned a bit more about him as we walked back to Bow Street. Indeed, I learned a great deal, for small though he be, Deuteronomy Plummer was a great talker.
    “Now,” said he to me as we trudged together along Cucumber Alley, “you might wonder how a fella such as I makes his money.”
    “Oh, well, I . . .”
    “Let me tell you about it.”
    That he proceeded to do, telling from the beginning and at great length how he had come to London from some town in the north in pursuit of his sister. He found her in Seven Dials, pregnant and whoring and unwilling to return home with him. In the course of his searches for Alice Plummer, he had strayed as far as Shepherd’s Bush. It being a Sunday, he happened to visit upon the day of the horse races at Shepherd’s Bush Common. Now, Deuteronomy Plummer was no stranger to racing of that sort—the hell-for-leather, rough-and-tumble, dirty-tricks kind of racing.
    “I growed up on it,” he boasted. “From the time I was just a babe, I had me a way with horses, and when I started race-ridin’, I found I was just small enough to duck most of the nastiness they’d put my way, and just smart enough to come up with nastiness all my own.”
    That Sunday in Shepherd’s Bush he made a spot of cash, using his horse sense, and betting on sure winners. More important, he got acquainted with owners and saw that there were few riders in his class. And he proved it to the satisfaction of all when, just at the start of the last race of the day, a horse threw its rider, and, knowing full well it was allowed, he jumped into the saddle, gave his heels to the horse, and won the heat and the race. He won the heart of the crowd because of his daring and his diminutive size. And the fact that he had bet heavily on that same horse made him doubly a winner. Ever after, he rode for the owners at Shepherd’s Bush, Blackheath, and all the rest of the