All That Glitters: A Maggie Power Adventure (Maggie Power #2) *Unedited version*

Document Insert 4 - Letter From The Margaret Power Archive

From The Margaret Power Archive

Letter from Detective Sergeant Blake of the Metropolitan Police, dated 19th October, 1842.

My Dear Maggie

What a day it has been!

I shall try, as best as I can at this late hour, to put down on paper all the things I have witnessed today.

To begin, my men and I returned to the scene of the crime and were once again visited the area around York Place this morning. As we finished our investigations, and I was ambling along the road deep in thought, I was approached by a woman – quite an extraordinary woman, as it goes – by the name of Lizzie. I suppose she knew from my manner that I was police, but it was the bluntness of her opening remark which so struck me.

"Has anybody come forward and identified the body, yet?" she asked of me, as I passed a small flower stall close to the murder scene.

I could tell that she distrusted my kind, and that it was only through desperation she'd ever consider approaching an officer of the law.

I asked who she was, and what 'body' she talking about.

She laughed at my pretence of ignorance and said,"The one you found yesterday, across the way at Mrs Thornberry's lodgings."

She moved back towards the small flower stall behind her.

"And what business is that of yours?" I asked.

She ignored my question and began rummaging amongst the crates of flowers beside her. It wasn't until a passing gentleman gave her a single coin and she in turn fixed a white rose to his lapel – cheekily smiling and thanking him as he left, that I realised she was the proprietor of the flower stall in question.

Then, as I was about to ask further questions of her, I heard a voice moan, "I'm hungry, Mama," and she moved to the back of the stall, plucking from amongst the array of flowers a young child, no more than six-years-old, and previously hidden from my view

"And who is this?" I asked looking down to the child. "She'a a true rose amongst all these flowers."

"This is why I ask about that body of yours. This here is Eastman's daughter. Now I needs to know: was his the body what was found yesterday?"

I asked her what made her think it was Mr Eastman's body which was removed from Mrs Thornberry's lodgings.

"Well it belongs to somebody!" she replied. "And besides, if it do belong to Mr Eastman, I shall pray for his soul, no doubt – not that it will do any good, mind. And if he has departed this earth, I'm a wondering whether perhaps he left a bob or two behind – for me and this child, which I've told you is his own flesh and blood."

"When was the last time you saw him?" I asked.

"I ain't seen him now for well on a week. I'm used to standing and waiting for him on that very corner over there, week after week, begging him for money for his own daughters, as he comes back home from the tap house. But he's usually too drunk to recognise me and he ain't given me a penny in weeks."

She painted quite a picture of Mr Eastman and the hardships she'd endured since he abandoned her and his daughters. The eldest, another Lizzie, was not around, and her mother seemed to care little of where she may be.

During the entire time we spoke, the young child stood close to her mother, holding on to her dress, clutching her around the waist, all the while showing no emotion, staring blankly up at her as she spoke.

"We don't yet know whether or not the body is your...(I wasn't sure what to say at this point) the children's father. That's why we need to speak to him. We are conducting an investigation, one that will no doubt become a murder investigation."