Whitechapel (34 page)

Read Whitechapel Online

Authors: Bryan Lightbody

Bates keenly watched the Commissioner enter and a few minutes later exit the toilets and make off to the foggy north of the park; the direction of the zoo, probably not a great idea but Sir Charles knew best. As soon as the requisite ten minutes had gone by the dogs, fortunately now awake, were taken into the ladies toilets by Mr Brough and allowed a chance for a good sniff round, both keenly picking up a scent from the affected surfaces. He released the dogs from their leads leaving the building and they began trotting off, Bates observed that they headed in exactly the right direction. A promising start.

Sir Charles got himself to the south edge of the zoo passing both an enclosure for the wolves and one further along it’s perimeter for baboons. Reaching the Outer Circle he turned southbound and arrived at Winfield house where he waited in the porch.

The speed at which the dogs were picking up the track was impressive to all gathered, but all struggled to keep up with their trot across the open ground of Regents Park. By the time they got to the southern edge of the zoo, for a period the track was of no consequence to Barnaby and Burgho who entered into aggressive banter with the wolves who were incensed in their enclosure by the proximity of the dogs. The enraged bloodhounds eventually vented their anger at the wolves by fighting with each other as the wolves fell silent watching and wagging their tales slowly at the spectacle. Mr Brough and some of the sergeants got them separated at some personal cost and they were placed on individual leads to calm down.

They passed the baboon enclosure; the primates in turn erupted into aggression. The males beginning to destroy loose sections of their enclosure ‘furniture’ in a show of strength to the hounds, who reciprocally played up with their owners and having passed the enclosure reached the Outer Circle and lost the scent completely. Some minutes had to pass until both dogs again became animated with a scent and began to follow it. Unfortunately Burgho went north away from Winfield House while Barnaby picked the correct trail to the south.

Burgho eventually found out a courting couple in the bushes near Gloucester Gate, the lady had been wearing exceptionally strong Cologne she had sprayed in the café toilets earlier. Sir Charles having got prematurely bored left Winfield House and headed off back into the depths of the park. Barnaby picking up so keen a scent, and now far from the zoo and his brother, was let from the lead again and suddenly took a sprint off into the mists of the parkland. Losing sight of the animal Mr Brough called repeatedly to the dog to no avail. Having given chase the gathered crowd moved around in silence for quite some time until they all heard what was initially a chilling cry;

“You bastard hound get back, get back….argh!” followed by a brief dog snarl and then only the cry of Sir Charles Warren as the dog bit him once and then circled him howling and snapping waiting to do more. The chuckling Bates turned to Arnold.

“Well, I think we’ll mark that down as eventually successful, despite both of them getting lost in the fog.”

For the time being it was decided to keep them on in London as a police resource for the Ripper case.

***

Simultaneously that afternoon the funeral of Del Lake was taking place on a low key basis at the City of London Cemetery in Aldersbrook Road, Wanstead. Due to the massive need for manpower on the streets of Whitechapel, more officers had been drafted in from the outer districts to cover patrols within the Ripper’s apparent area to allow officers from Commercial Street and the rest of ‘H’ division to attend Lake’s funeral. Suspended from duty as far as everyone knew, it hurt Robert Ford to not be allowed under Superintendent Arnold’s orders to be part of the bearer party for his friend. At least Arnold was elsewhere this afternoon so there was no chance of the increasingly grief stricken Ford of retaliating. He didn’t begrudge the other choices, they were good men, such as Inspector Spratling leading the party, Sergeant Kerby, Taffy Evans, Jonas Mizen, John Thain, Johnny Neil and a new constable called Bobby Spicer, who in truth was taking Ford’s place. Abberline was there with Bill Murphy. Mary was there with Ford to offer her support and as a mark of respect to Del Lake who she knew well from his presence in the area as a local copper. There was about fifty-five to sixty other uniform officers from ‘H’ division in attendance, some who knew Del well, some as a remark of respect and symbol of police solidarity. Chief Inspector Littlechild looked on at the proceedings from a distance, not in distrust of Ford but to see if the low key funeral of a local officer brought anyone significant to his department’s remit out into the open.

It surprised both him and Ford when George Lusk turned up, although commendably on his own without the usual mob in tow and very smartly dressed. All things considered he was a local business leader so he was in truth not an unusual member of the community to attend. Abberline eyed him suspiciously wondering if he was out to regain some face within his mob by showing unity with the police in a ‘common cause’. He would address him later at the wake at ‘The Three Rabbits’ public house in Romford Road, Manor Park. With the difficult circumstances of Del’s death no one had been asked to deliver a eulogy, although Del’s brother would be doing a reading, so only the priest’s words and the formal service would be heard.

For Mary Kelly it was an increasingly all too familiar ritual. She had been to four funerals in the last six weeks, more than she had ever been to in her life; Cathy Eddowes had been buried the day before at the nearby Little Ilford cemetery, Liz Stride had been buried during the previous week, on the 14
th
September Annie Chapman had also been buried in Manor park and before that at Little Ilford on the 6
th
September Polly Nicholls had been laid to rest. All of them her friends and as she had highlighted to Robert, but why were they killed?

No church service, the service of remembrance for Lake was held at one of the chapels at the cemetery. The gathered congregation all sat in silence with organ music playing gently in the background as they waited for the service to commence. In the last few minutes before the coffin arrived from the undertakers by horse drawn hearse, the members of Del’s family arrived; two younger sisters, a brother and their mother, a smart and proud woman in her late fifties. They walked down the aisle of the chapel and sat at the front, the sisters sobbing with the brother and mother seemingly composed. Everyone heard the doors open one more time and the organ changed its tune to the funeral march signifying the entrance of the priest and the bearer party. With the change of music everyone had stood up and a chill ran down Robert’s spine and tears began to roll down his cheeks as he turned to see the coffin passing with the sombre faced members of the bearer party slowing marching Del on his final journey. He looked around the gathered congregation to see many different reactions; Mary was crying silently, Abberline was stone faced and unemotional, Bill Murphy gently wiped a tear from his eye, the Lake sisters sobbed and Mrs Lake and the brother still kept their solemn composure. The slow march down to the front of the chapel to then place the coffin on trestles under the direction of Inspector Spratling, who was carrying Del’s beat duty helmet, seemed to take an eternity until it was finally resting serenely at the front of the congregation. Spratling placed the helmet upon the coffin and the bearer party took their seats at the rear of the chapel marching smartly in step back along the aisle.

The priest, Father James Donald, the priest from Christchurch in Commercial Street who dealt with police spiritual needs in Whitechapel took to the lectern, opened his bible and began to speak.

“Good afternoon, to you all. We are here today to celebrate the life and passing of our dear colleague, friend, son and brother Derek Lake. Let us start by first of all singing hymn number 706 in your books in front of you ‘The Lord is my Shepherd.’” Everyone stood and thumbed through the hymn books laid out in front of them as the organ began the introductory bars of music. Father Donald led the singing at the appropriate note, his voice booming and rich to try to lift everyone as their singing took on initial sombre quality. It took a couple of minutes to sing the hymn through before the congregation then sat again and the priest completed a first reading.

“Dearly beloved the first reading I give to you is from the first letter of St Paul to the Thessalonians; we shall stay with the Lord for ever.

‘We want you to be quite certain, brothers, about those who have died, to make quite sure that you do not grieve about them, like other people who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and that it will be the same for those who have died in Jesus: God will bring them with him. We can tell you this from the Lord’s own teaching, that any of us who are left alive until the Lord’s coming will not have any advantage over those who have died. At the trumpet of God, the voice of the archangel will call out the command and the Lord himself will come down from heaven; those who have died in Christ will be the first to rise, and then those of us who are still alive will be taken up in the clouds, together with them, to meet the Lord in the air. So we shall stay with the Lord for ever. With such thoughts like these you should comfort one another.’ This is the word of the Lord”

Still Mrs Lake and Del’s brother sat silent, around the chapel there was some faint sobbing, tears were rolling heavily from Robert’s eyes. A prayer followed dedicated to Del and all policemen doing their duty in the face of great danger then based on his interactions with the Lake family Father Donald spoke of him.

“Today we mourn the passing of Derek and celebrate his short but rich life. It is sad to lose a young man so in his prime in his early twenties but Derek or Del died in the service of the job he loved greatly, protecting the public and catching wrong-doers. He was highly regarded by peers, senior officers and his community, a testament to this is the police turnout and I thank Mr George Lusk for his presence and for his major contribution to these proceedings. His beloved family sit here sad that he is gone but grateful for his life and comforted by the knowledge he sits at the Lord’s side waiting for them to one day all be re-united, as do dear friends both in and outside of the police force. His brother, Bert, has asked to complete a reading in dedication to Del and one he knew was Del’s favourite from their time at Sunday teachings together. Bert, Please join me.” Bert got to his feet and took his place at the lectern as the priest stepped to one side.

“This is from John 14: 1-6, There are many rooms in my fathers House.” He coughed to clear his throat and paused looking around before starting.

“Jesus said to his disciples ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled Trust in God still, and trust in me. There are many rooms in my Fathers house; if there were not, I should have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you with me; so that where I am you may be too. You know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?’ Jesus said ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life; No one can come to the Father except through me.’ This is the Gospel of the Lord.” Quietly and with great composure Bert took his seat.

Father Donald returned to the lectern and led the congregation in the Lord’s Prayer. When they finished the bearer party got up and again under the supervision of Inspector Spratling they lifted the coffin, the trestles were moved and the priest led them out, Spratling leading carrying the beat duty helmet that had been on the top of the coffin, the bearer party and the mourners joined on to form a procession behind which filed out following all the way to graveside for the burial.

It was ultimately at the graveside under the final religious rights that Mrs Lake and Bert were both over come by emotion and sobbed heavily, all four of the family members present holding each other. Robert stood with tears streaming down his face as did Mary who stood next to him clutching his hand tightly. There were virtually no dry eyes except for those of Abberline and Lusk. The family all cast earth into the grave using a small trowel left by the side for just this purpose, as did a few closer friends including Robert. He spoke as he did so, his voice breaking with emotion.

“I shall miss you so much, mucker. If I could trade with you and change it all I would. I am so sorry, mate.” Mary put her arm round him and led him away following the stream of people as they walked off from the cemetery in the direction of Rabbits Road and the wake at the pub.

Abberline caught up with Lusk and walked with him.

“All right, Mr Lusk, no fights today, what brings you here then?”

“Abberline, for all my dislike of the way the police are handling this case, I still respect the job the lowly constable does, especially one so dangerous and pioneering. It was for the likes of me and my community, for that I can salute that individual as a community leader and be philanthropic if I wish. Fair enough?”

“Yes, fair enough, but keep your men out of the way of the police investigation. We will get him, and I can assure you that if I do, personally that is, I will happily tie the noose and pull the trap door lever without hesitation. Lusk, don’t forget this is my community too.”

“Then think about how to give them a sense of hope then, Abberline, they need to believe in you again.” Lusk broke away from Abberline by quickening his walk to catch up with the Lake family.

Inside The Three Rabbits pub Robert could bring himself to do nothing except prop up the bar with Mary sitting quietly beside him on a bar chair. He was staring into his pint of beer as he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Bert Lake stood tearfully in front of him swallowing hard to speak.

“Rob, what happened? Just tell me what went so wrong, eh?”

“I left him,” Robert stared into space tearfully “just for a few minutes it seemed I left him. When I found him he was gone.”

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