57. Help from the Police

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A dark alley, deep, deep in the most dangerous parts of the East End slums. A little boy was dashing through the shadows, glancing left and right—that is, until he spotted two dark figures looming at the end of the alley.

His heart dropping, he came to a stop. No. Not this again! This had happened to him only last week! He could still feel his jaw hurting from the punch that had sent him to the ground, could still hear those bastards' laughter as they tore from his hand the coin that was meant for his sick mother.

No! This couldn't happen again!

Whirling around, he dashed away from the two sinister thugs, ignoring the pain rushing up from his bare feet as they pounded against the ground.

"Oy, you!" a voice came from behind him. "Wait!"

Fat chance!

The little boy sped up, his heart nearly busting his ribs. Behind him, he could hear the bastards' boots pounding on the ground, coming ever closer.

"Wait!"

Never! Never again! This time, he was going to escape! He was not going to let those buggers get their hands on him or, God forbid, his family!

Rushing towards a nearby wall, he leapt up. His fingers scraped desperately against brickwork, trying to find purchase. Hell, he was going to fall! He was going to—

He'd done it!

Grabbing the top of the wall, he pulled himself up and over. Slamming into the ground knees first, he bit his lip to ignore the pain, scrambled to his feet again and dashed forward, uncaring where he was or where he went, as long as it was away from those monsters!

***

On the other side of the wall, the two monsters were staring at bricks, nonplussed.

"So...who are we going to ask for directions now?"

"'ow am I supposed ta know? And don't forget ta drop yer H's!"

"My sincehere hapologies."

"I liked ye better when ye were all lordly and well-mannered."

"I'm sure. So...what now?"

"Oy, see dat street sign? I think dat's da way!"

"You mean like the last three times?"

"So what? Did ye think it was gonna be easy ta just roll in through a gang's front door? Dose buggers don't just nicely stay at home knittin', waitin' for ye ta show up. Dey tend ta move around ta avoid little things called 'police raids'. I've bin out of da city for weeks now, and ain't talked ta my contacts from Devil's Acre in ages. Da gangs probably 'ave moved around 'alf a dozen times."

"And you neglected to mention this earlier because...?"

"Just shut up and follow!"

"Yes, Hmadam."

Grumbling, she strode off, and Lord Patrick, noble and proud gentleman that he was, did the only thing he could do: follow. After all, he had even less of an idea than Amy how or where to find criminals, unless he were to visit Tyburn to pull one off the gallows.

That would probably not be an option.

The farther they went, the worse things started to look. Lord Patrick had thought they'd already been in the darkest pit of the slums. Quite obviously, he had been mistaken. The houses around them looked about ready to fall over. Piles of foul substances were scattered throughout the streets. Several times, they were waylaid by less than desirable individuals, until finally...

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