Inspector Cliffe was getting tired of these blasted muggings. They always seem to take place in streets or other crowded places, yet no one sees a bloody thing. Even the blasted victim didn’t see who held him at gunpoint; All he recalled seeing was some gentleman being roughhoused by a street rat, both of whom then turned his attention to him. It was this sort of scenario that had Inspector Cliffe considering early retirement. He turned away from the man dressed only in his undergarments and had another round at trying to gather any useful information from the crowd of known passersby some of the constables had found and rounded up. This second endeavour revealed nothing, however. The few people who had seen anything of the crime only saw the two thugs kicking his almost-bare body and knew nothing of the third who threatened to shoot him if he didn’t surrender his belongings. A handful of witnesses gave vague and rather unhelpful descriptions of the pair, such as “One well dressed and the other, an urchin”, but the majority were borderline useless. Inspector Cliffe, even more sick and tired of these muggings, consulted Constable Evans to check if there was anyone else to question.
“Well, we tried to keep everyone here, but several people left before we could arrive,” He said, rifling through his clipboard.
“Any names?”
Ms. Lucy Anne, Mr. Clancey Brighton, Mr. Conan Fawkes, and a man in a suit and masquerade mask that we couldn’t find a name for.”
“Alright. Get back to the office and see what you can find on the masked man, he might be involved. I’ll contact the rest of the people on the list.”Cliffe takes the clipboard from the constable and proceeds to hail down a carriage.
Lucy sat in her red armchair, sipping her Formosa Oolong peach blossom tea. One of the few luxuries she could afford to have without anyone questioning where she got the money. Thankfully, her husband’s possessions were fashionable enough. The beige table and chairs were quaint enough to be a conversation starter, should she have needed one. The timepiece on the wall was elegantly crafted, a gift from a clockmaker her husband had helped, but not made of any expensive materials like you’d imagine to see in a successful banker’s room. Even the oil paintings that hung the walls were painted by his friend as birthday presents. It wasn’t as glamorous as some people would like, but for her, it was fine. As she downed the last of her tea, a knocking came from the front door. She walked over as quietly as possible and stared through the peephole. She was relieved to see that it wasn’t any of the police, and was in fact no one at all. Lucy opened the door to check further, and as she stepped onto her welcome mat, she felt something under her foot. She glanced down and saw a letter partially crushed under her shoe. She picked it up and returned to her armchair inside, fearing the contents of the letter may incriminate her. Not bothering with a letter opener, she pulls the envelope open and reads:
Miss Lucy Anne,
We know of your capabilities, and would like to enlist your help.
A man at 54 Helmsman Avenue has a bracelet that is of utmost importance to us.
We require that you retrieve this bracelet and drop it off on top of the statue in front of Abney Park.
We will obtain the bracelet from that location as soon as possible.
Do this for us, and you will be paid handsomely.
‘A job request?’ Lucy pondered what the letter asked of her. She had never been hired to steal anything; while she was becoming quite adept at conning and swindling, she only did it out of necessity, to put food on her table. Being asked to steal for someone else, a commision of sorts, was something she had never done, never had to consider doing. The promise of being paid handsomely was an interesting one as well. She made enough on pickpocketing and holding at gunpoint, and she wasn’t exactly high maintenance, as her profession of choice would show. However, The money might come in handy for other things. She could recruit people more easily, obtain the equipment she could use for more daring heists...This could turn her petty thefts into front-page robberies, and give her the budget to potentially get away with it. It would make things ever so more entertaining. She reread the letter. There’s no mention of a certain deadline for her to meet, so it would appear she had all the time she needed to start her first professional heist.
~ ~ ~
Inspector Cliffe inspected the clipboard held in his hands again, reaffirming that he had indeed been correct in ordering the carriage driver to head to Highland Way. Thankfully, Constable Evans was neither untidy nor one to do things by halves, and had organised the last few witnesses’ names, faces and addresses rather presentably, although Cliffe wondered when he had the time to obtain this info. Surely he didn’t when he went to get tea for the both of them?
“We’re turning onta Highlind Way now, Inspecta!” The driver called out from outside, with a surprisingly thick accent. Cliffe wonders whether the man even had an education. The carriage halted at 20 Highland Way, and Cliffe stepped out onto the footpath, paying the driver. He made his way to the door and prepared himself to interrogate.
Lucy tried not to panic as she heard the knocking on the door.
‘They can’t have her down as a suspect,’ she reasoned with herself. ‘It’s much more likely they’re here to interrogate me as a witness.’ She calmed herself and opened her front door to greet the man.
“Constable Cliffe! It’s been ages!” She gave him a genuine smile, praying that would mask her nerves.
“That’s Inspector Cliffe now, and yes, it has. I don’t think I’ve seen you since-”
“Would you like to come in?”
“Oh, of course!”
Cliffe stepped into the living room, taking a seat on the sofa he always envied. Lucy followed him, picking up the letter that was still on the table as she sat down in the red armchair, with her guest beside her.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t prepared anything, I didn’t know you were arriving! There’s still some tea left in the kettle if you want it.”
“No thanks, Lucy, I’m here on business.” Cliffe informed her. “There’s been a mugging on Fleet Street recently, and-”
“Was that the one where the two thugs were kicking a man in the shins?”
“You saw it and didn’t tell anyone?” Cliffe was taken aback by Lucy’s withholding of this knowledge.
“I’m so sorry, I saw them and then they looked at me like I’d be next, so I ran and hailed a carriage as fast as I could!” She looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“It’s alright, Lucy,” The inspector consoled. “I can’t blame you for leaving as fast as you could. Rest assured, those fiends are being held in custody and are being interrogated as we speak.”
“G...Good to hear.” Lucy tried to maintain her composure. “So what do you want me for?”
“Well, we believe there was a third assailant who held the victim at gunpoint and coerced him into giving up his clothes and money. We haven’t got anything from the witnesses, so we were hoping you saw anything.”
“Oh…” Lucy paused, looking down at the cup in her hands. “I didn’t see anyone else, I’m afraid. He must have left before I saw him.” She sighed before drinking the last sips of her cup. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much help…”
“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Cliffe reassured. “To be honest, you’ve been more helpful than most of our other witnesses.” It was untrue, she didn’t shed any new light at all, but Cliffe didn’t want to make her feel worse than she seemed to already be feeling. “At any rate, I’ve got a few more witnesses to talk to before I turn in, so I’d better get to it.”
“Of course,” Lucy looked back at him, a fraction of a smile on her lips. “Thank you for coming, it was lovely to see you again.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Cliffe reassured. “To be honest, you’ve been more helpful than most of our other witnesses.” It was untrue, she didn’t shed any new light at all, but Cliffe didn’t want to make her feel worse than she seemed to already be feeling. “At any rate, I’ve got a few more witnesses to talk to before I turn in, so I’d better get to it.”
“Of course,” Lucy looked back at him, a fraction of a smile on her lips. “Thank you for coming, it was lovely to see you again.”
“Likewise.” Cliffe picked up his clipboard and bowed his head at her before exiting.
Multiple characters, motives, and hinted-at relationships? It's almost like I'm becoming competent.
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