Walking back to the small lodgings which were all he had managed to afford after leaving Holly Lodge, Declan thought: but what can I do? What?
Two days after the visit he suddenly saw how he might get Colm away. The newspapers were still reporting on the Mesmer Murders, and Declan read how Colm was to be taken to stand trial at the Old Bailey Courthouse in three days’ time. The paper would tell its readers the details of the first day of the trial that same evening.
Three days, thought Declan. They’ll take him from that prison – Newgate – in a closed carriage.
The beginnings of a plan began to unfold.
TWENTY-SIX
It was a simple plan – Declan tried to remember that the most successful plans were the simple ones.
On the morning of the trial, he made his way to Newgate Gaol very early. He had spent a sleepless night – he had, in fact, slept very little since Colm was arrested. A small crowd was massing to watch the excitement of a murderer being brought out, and Declan stood with them, hating them because they were relishing Colm’s situation.
As eight o’clock struck from St Paul’s, a kind of jeering cheer went up, and Declan saw the gates open and a closed carriage come out, drawn by two horses.
‘Black Maria’s here,’ shouted several people, and cries of delight went through the crowd. Several people threw their hats in the air, and women nudged one another with a kind of lascivious glee, and asked was it true he was a fine, handsome young man?
Declan was relieved to see the horses drawing the closed-in carriage; he had been unsure whether the police might use a motorized vehicle, which would have made his plan impossible. His plan was frighteningly flimsy, but, if it worked, Colm would be free. If it did not, Colm would hang and probably Declan with him.
The crowd surged forward, eager to get a glimpse of the notorious Mesmer Murder. The driver urged the horses through them; the horses occasionally shied and showed the whites of their eyes, but Declan thought they were accustomed to crowds and not very much disturbed by them. As the carriage drew closer, judging his moment, he leapt forward and grabbed the bridle of the nearer horse, jerking it away from its companion. The second horse reared up at once, and the carriage slewed round, the wheels scraping and bouncing erratically. The driver leapt from his seat to calm the now-plunging and whinnying horses, and as the crowd backed away, the carriage rocked dangerously. There were shouts from inside, and the driver, trying to get the frightened horses under control, shouted, ‘Get ’im out! It’ll overturn – get ’im out!’
The door was opened, and two men emerged, holding Colm between them. Declan, watching his chance, saw that one of them was bruised and dazed-looking, and guessed the man had been flung against the carriage’s sides as it swayed. It was now or never. He darted forward, willing Colm to respond, praying there was enough confusion to get him clear, agonizing in case Colm was handcuffed or in chains.
All his prayers were answered. There were no fetters of any kind, and Colm’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw Declan. He swung a blow at the dazed officer, knocking him from his feet, then he leapt forward, and Declan grabbed his arm. Together they ran, scarcely noticing where they went, not really caring. Narrow streets, cobbled alleys, huddles of shops, barrows with fruit, vendors with chestnuts and flowers and jellied eels . . . Pounding feet came after them, with cries to stop.
‘Don’t stop,’ gasped Colm. ‘Not for anything, or I’m a dead man.’
At some stage Colm tore off the shameful prison garb so that he was wearing plain trousers and a singlet. It looked no more odd than some of the barrow boys and fruit sellers who had stripped off jackets the better to carry their heavy wares.
At first Declan thought they would never shake off their pursuers, but suddenly, in the way London has of springing its surprises, they went across a square and down an alley, and found themselves in a completely different district, near a small park. And they could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit.
‘Have we done it?’ demanded Colm, white-faced, his eyes blazing. ‘Have we got away?’
‘I think so. Let’s just walk normally, so as not to attract attention.’
‘Where are we, d’you think?’
‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter,’ said Declan. ‘Because we’re going to get out of London. We may have to walk most of the way, but we walked in, and we can walk out.’
‘They’ll be looking for me though,’ said Colm. ‘For both of us. Have we money?’
‘Some.’ Declan had brought the remains of the money from Bullfinch’s wallet. He hated doing it, but he could not see any other way.
‘Enough to get to Liverpool and the ferry?’
Declan paused and looked at him. ‘Are we going home? I mean – back to Kilglenn?’
Colm sat down on a little low wall overlooking a patch of green. ‘We are,’ he said. ‘But you don’t have to come with me. And if I can get there I can hide out in the shack. No one will know I’m there if I’m careful.’
‘But . . . why? Colm, all the world’s at our disposal! I thought we’d cross to America – they say there’s plenty of work to be had—’
‘We thought there was plenty of work to be had here,’ said Colm bitterly. ‘And yes, we’ll go to America afterwards. But there’s something I have to do first.’
‘What?’ But Declan already knew.
Colm said, ‘I have to get that accursed chess figure back to the watchtower.’
‘Because the other pieces are there,’ said Declan after a moment.
‘Yes. I know they’re cinders under the burned-out tower,’ said Colm, before Declan could go on. ‘And I don’t understand it, not really. But I think it’s got to be done.’
Declan said, ‘But I didn’t bring the chess piece. I brought all the things I thought we’d need, so we wouldn’t have to go back, but I left the chess piece at Holly Lodge.’