Convicted Innocent(5)



He chose the latter, and David slipped down a much less crowded and far narrower alley as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He could cut through here, zigzag down a few streets, and leave a note with his friend’s landlady within a few minutes. Then he could come back and let the passersby and protesters demand as much of his attention as they wanted.

…No. Hang it all – he’d forgotten about the solicitor…and whatever that something else was.

Shaking his head at himself, David strolled briskly down the close-walled street. From Commercial, the roadway looked as though it dead-ended in a row of tenements, but David knew the street actually doglegged around the buildings and continued on. Still, the appearance thinned the foot traffic considerably, even to the point that he was practically alone when he turned the first corner at the end of the tenement. The clotheslines overhead dimmed the sunlight and dampened the street noise, granting a respite from Whitechapel’s often-raucous vivacity.

Around the next corner, that solitude ended rudely.

Not fifteen feet away, four blue-jacketed bobbies were struggling mightily to hold a fifth to the ground.

For a moment, David wondered if the man on the ground, a dark-haired chap whose helmet had fallen off, was a having a fit and the other four were trying to aid him.

In the next, however, he realized he was very wrong. The four bobbies holding the other down were being quite rough about it, and then the man on the cobbles twisted around. David felt his pulse quicken when he saw the fellow’s face.

The fifth man was Lewis Todd, and his expression was furious. When he caught sight of David, his eyes widened and he tried to shout something, but one of others had a hand over his mouth. The sound came out muffled, but Lewis’s meaning was clear.

These men were hardly there to help him.

David found himself running forward before he even consciously thought to do so. Lewis would’ve done the same for him, after all.

But then, Lew was quite formidable in a fight. What was more, the man was a good head taller, a few stone heavier, and much more agile and muscled than just about anyone David knew. The chap had even been a champion prizefighter at one time.

David was quite the opposite. Sure, he knew how to throw a punch if necessary, despite the fact that his profession was supposed to be a peaceful one. But he was short where his friend was tall, no more dexterous or athletic than the average man, and boyishly unassuming where Lew could be downright ferocious.

That didn’t stop David from hurling himself at the nearest of his friend’s attackers with a wordless shout. The tackle took them both to the ground, and the priest was pleased to see out of the corner of his eye that his intervention allowed Lewis a chance to change the fight’s momentum. In a heartbeat, his best mate surged to his feet and managed to lay one attacker low with a belt to the chin.

Then an elbow caught David in the mouth and he lost his grip on the man he’d tackled.

“Run, David!” Lewis bellowed, still fending off his assailants.

The words made sense, and David thought he might’ve been able to comply, but fists had followed the elbow to his face, and he was now quite dazed. Too dizzy to do much more than lurch unsteadily to his feet when the man he’d jumped turned his attention back to Lewis Todd. Far too dizzy to run away.

Perhaps he might still be able to distract the other bobbies – though they weren’t that, were they? – from their attentions to his friend…

—Wait. Was he seeing double? David wondered, for the number assaulting the policeman seemed to have swelled. Too many to count at a dazed glance, in any case, and Lewis was soon lost to sight under a violent surge.

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