The Thief-Taker : Memoirs of a Bow Street Runner by T.F. Banks Read Free Book Online Page A

more. What was Mr. Glendinning doing in such a place just before his end? And what might have happened to him there?”
    “You are very certainly misinformed, sir!” Sir William cried. “My son was a gentleman. A man of letters. Not an habitué of low houses.”
    Morton started to respond, but Sir Nathaniel cut him off with a gesture. “Your son's character is not in question, Sir William, let me assure you. But it is very suspicious that he fought a duel in the morning and… died later the same day.”
    “His honour had been impugned and he defended it,”Sir William said, drawing himself up a little, proud of his son. “His untimely passing was a sad coincidence. Nothing more.”
    “Perhaps,” agreed Sir Nathaniel, “but we do not know what caused this untimely passing.”
    “I have spoken to the surgeon who attended poor Halbert upon his arrival here, and I am satisfied that there was nothing untoward about his death. His constitution was ever delicate,” Sir William said. The pride disappeared from his face, however, and he slumped down a little. His wife reached out and gently placed her small hand over his.
    Their son was dissolute, that is what they believed, Morton realised. They thought he'd drunk himself to death in a bawdy house, and they wanted it to go no further.
    “Sir,” Morton said. “I was present at the time of this surgeon's examination and can tell you that it was less than thorough. Your son did not choke. I am quite sure of it. A proper examination might tell us the cause…of this unfortunate event.”
    “Such a thing hardly seems necessary, Mr. Morton,” Sir Charles Carey interjected, “if, as you admit, a medical man has seen to it already. You are hardly qualified to overrule him.”
    Lady Caroline gave the coroner a sad look of gratitude.
    Morton felt his anger rising. The Glendinnings did not want their son's name sullied. And bloody Sir Charles did not want to commission an autopsy and risk finding nothing—in which case the King's Bench might refuse to pay the fee, leaving Sir Charles to cover it himself. He and Morton had fought this battle before.
    Morton made an effort to keep his eyes straight aheadand his voice level. “It is, Sir Charles, the Chief Magistrate's decision to make.”
    For the first time Sir William looked straight at Morton. His voice was icily deliberate.
    “I know you, fellow, for what you are. You seek to profit from my son's death. And if there were no crime, where would you find your thirty pieces of silver?”
    He looked back to Sir Nathaniel.
    “There will be no investigation, sir. Lady Caroline and the rest of my family have suffered enough. I forbid it.”
    “You will pardon me, Sir William, but in cases of possible felony—”
    “I forbid it! I will not cooperate with it. I will not prosecute it, even if you produce a case. There was no felony, and your little flock of carrion-crows will not pick over my son's good name to the benefit of their pockets!”
    He rose quite suddenly, drawing up his wife after him, and with her leaning on his arm, they went out.
    The four remaining looked one to the other as Morton seethed inwardly. Thirty pieces of silver! That the man who risked getting his skull cracked in parts of London these people had never seen should get slapped across the face with such an insult…! And by a man who had achieved his place in the world by being born under the right blanket!
    “Mr. Morton,” Darley said quietly. “Are you so sure?”
    Morton scowled and nodded. “I spoke with the driver of the coach who brought Glendinning here. Mrs. Malibrant's intuition was correct. Something untoward happened. I am certain of it.”
    He noticed Sir Nathaniel staring at him thoughtfully at that moment, and did not like what he read into that gaze. Doubt. Doubt that Morton himself hadcontributed to in the carriage on their way here. And that Sir William's accusation had only encouraged.
    “Lord Arthur,” the Magistrate said,