The Peeler

By: Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
 

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Frederick and Dawlish had walked through the entire building, and Dawlish suggested that they go to the nearby tavern and take some refreshment. Frederick agreed, but he was very quiet.

When they were seated and had given their orders, Dawlish asked “What do you think of the property? You could sell it…or you could attempt to rent it…?”

Frederick looked at Dawlish and said, “Sir, you may think I’m crazy, but if I had the money I’d like to have that building cleaned, walls plastered and painted, and furnished. I’d like to have a school…, a home…, where boys who were at risk of falling into a life of crime and poverty could live in safety, and be taught to read and write and then be apprenticed out to respectable merchants and artisans to learn a trade.”

“Yes, Frederick,” Dawlish said seriously, “many people would think you were mad…fit to be locked up in bedlam!”

“What do you think, sir?”

“What do I think? I think your uncle would be happy that you wanted to use his property in such a way, and I know that I am delighted in your decision. And now that you have made that decision, I will tell you the rest of your uncle’s bequest to you.”

Chapter 2 

Frederick sat there dumbfounded. His uncle had done so much for him already!

Dawlish went on. “Your uncle stipulated in his will that if you decided to use the building in some way to help others, he was prepared to settle a sum of money on you that would enable you to refurbish the building, maintain it, and devote your life to carrying out your plans as you might wish.”

“I don’t know what to say,” said Frederick.

“Perhaps we should finish our dinner and go back and look at the building to see what might have to be done to it.”

The two men did just that; they ate their dinners in companionable silence and then went back to the building. Dawlish had a small tablet on which he made notes.

On the ground floor, Frederick said, “This room to the left of the door will be my office, and next to that the classroom. The room to the right of the door will be the Steward’s office, and there’s another room that could be used as his bedroom.”

“Steward?” queried Dawlish.

“Well, I won’t need a butler, but I think a steward to oversee the maintenance of the building…..This large central room will be a dining room, and ….let’s see what’s at the back of the house….Aha! There’s a kitchen with a large stove, and a sink with a pump handle.”

“Does it work, Frederick?”

Fred took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and began to work the pump. It was squeaky but after about a dozen attempts, a stream of cold, clear water gushed forth into the sink and went down the drain and into the backyard where the natural slope of the lawn led the water down to … a cess pit!

“You’ll have to contract with the night soil men to empty that regularly,” Dawlish warned.

“You’re right, Mr. Dawlish. Let’s go back inside.” There they found that next to the kitchen was a room containing a large copper tank where water could be stored for washing.

At the back of the kitchen were located two dumb-waiters, elevators operated by muscle power, with a system of pulleys that made raising or lowering them much easier. “You know, sir, we could use one of these to carry firewood up to the bedrooms, and the other one to bring chamber pots down to be emptied into the cess pit.”

“Good thinking, young man,” the lawyer said.

Frederick then found two rooms next to the kitchen that could be used as the cook’s sitting room and her bedroom.

Going up to the first floor, the two men found that each of the bedrooms had a fireplace, and that at the back of the building there was a wide area where the two dumbwaiters would discharge or take on their cargoes.

“We are going to have a number of young lads here and they might feel more comfortable if we put two in a room. What do you think, sir?”

“You’d have to put fire guards over the fireplace, but if the fire were properly laid, probably one good size log would be enough to keep the boys warm until their body heat kept them warm under the blankets,” Dawlish said.

“I think I’ll have this large room as my bedroom, and I think I’ll have two beds in it in case any of the lads are fearful when they first arrive… and I’ve been thinking …some rooms don’t have fire places, but we could have one or two of them used as classrooms. We could have charcoal braziers there, burning to give off heat, as long as the door or a window is open.”

“You have been thinking this through. Your ideas are excellent,” the older man said to the younger.

After a bit more discussion, the two decided to go back to Mr. Dawlish’s office, and then Frederick would return to headquarters. Before they parted, the lawyer informed Frederick that he would assemble a team of reliable tradesmen to start work on the building.

As Frederick rode in a hansom back to his office his mind was awhirl. First he thought about how helpful Mr. Dawlish had been. Then he thought about hiring a steward to oversee the workmen, and perhaps a cook who could use that kitchen to prepare good meals for the workmen. Last of all, he would have to start looking for a teacher.

‘Oh, God,’ Frederick thought to himself. ‘I’m so lonely! I wish I had someone, a partner, to talk over my plans, my hopes for this school.’ Frederick was a virile young man and several times he had visited a ‘knocking shop’ that catered to all variety of tastes the customers might have, but sex for pay was not really what the young man wanted. His last visit to such a brothel had ended when he heard the screams of young boys who were being forced to submit to the wishes of the customer. He had left in disgust, determined more than ever to do something to help keep children from such depravity.

What Frederick really wanted was love and companionship! Would he ever find it?

Arriving back at police headquarters he found Constable Williams looking very depressed.

“What’s wrong, Williams?” he asked.

“Sir, it’s the new orders from headquarters. They say that all men over a certain age are to be let go and replaced by younger, healthier men. I’m going to lose my position, and what will I ever tell my sister Jane, who’s kept house for me? Where will we go? We’ll have to go on the parish,* I suppose. Here I am a fit and healthy man and I’m to be let go! It ain’t bloody fair, begging your pardon, Mr. Fitzwilliam.”

Frederick was struck by an idea. “Cheer up, Williams; I may have an idea that may help you and your sister. Wait until I talk to Superintendent Lane, and then you and I will be off duty, and I will take you somewhere where we can have a drink and a meal, and I’ll explain my idea to you.”

Elsewhere in London

About the time the events described above were taking place, a young man, Edward Kent, aged twenty-three, was standing in front of his employer.

“Get out of my house, you disgusting…. I have a good mind to horsewhip you for what I caught you doing with the stable boy.”

“But…,” started the young man.

“Shut your damn mouth, you disgusting …I don’t know what to call you. But I’ll tell you this. If I thought you had laid a hand on my sons that I hired you to tutor. I’d kill you.”

“Sir, I’d never….”

“I said shut up. I’ll see to it that no decent family will ever hire you as a tutor to their sons again! Now get out of my house!”

The young man turned, dejected. He didn’t know where he’d go, where he’d sleep, or how he’d eat. ‘I’ll have to beg for my food,’ he thought to himself.

At Police Headquarters:

Frederick went into Divisional Superintendent Lane’s office with a heavy heart. He knew what he’d have to do. He loved his police work, but his dream was going to come true, and he’d have to make sacrifices.

“Might I have a word, sir?” Frederick asked.

“Certainly, Sergeant Fitzwilliam, Take a seat,” Divisional Superintendent Lane said. “I understand you’ve come into some property.”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. “I’ve long dreamed that I’d like to have a school…, a home…, where boys who were at risk of falling into a life of crime and poverty could live in safety, and be taught to read and write and then be apprenticed out to respectable merchants and artisans to learn a trade. Now I have the property and some money to make that dream a reality.”

Lane smiled, and said, “That’s a noble dream, and I’m glad you will be able to put your hopes into practice, but….what about your work here. I don’t think you’re going to be able to do both.”

“No, Sir, and that’s why I’ve come to tender my resignation.”

“NO!” bellowed Lane. “I mean, I hope not.….Let me think a moment…..You’re an excellent police officer and you’re good at sniffing out clues as to what happened at a crime scene….I don’t want to lose you….  Let me see.”

Lane pondered for a minute.

“Suppose we keep you on the payroll as a consultant, at say two shillings a quarter. If we feel you could find the solution to a mystery, especially one that occurs in those levels of society that don’t like to have peelers in the house, we would call you in, and you could work on that mystery. As a private agent, you could keep any rewards that might come from the grateful victims.”

“That’s a very generous offer, sir, and I think I could agree to those terms. Thank you,” replied Frederick, grateful that his problem was having such an easy solution.

“That’s settled, then,” Lane said. “Oh, I have a friend who is thinking of writing a book about just such boys as your school is going to help. His name is Dickens, Charles Dickens. I’ll give you a note to him and perhaps you will have some interesting conversations with him.”

“I’d like to meet him,” Frederick said.

“NOW!” said Lane, “I just have one more problem to worry about… and that’s how to help Constable Williams, who’s being laid off because of his age. Damn and blast these regulations!”

“I can help you there, sir. I plan to ask him if he would like to work for me, first as supervising the workmen who will be bringing my property into shape. Then I will keep him on as a sort of ‘steward’ to the school. I’m also going to hire his sister, a Mrs. Barton, to be cook, first to prepare meals for the workmen, and then to cook for the school.”

Lane stood up with a smile on his face. “Fitzwilliam, you have solved my problem. I can go home to my wife and dinner, and not worry about Constable Williams. Thank you.”

The two men shook hands.

A little later Frederick and Constable Williams were seated in a nearby tavern. The tavern had bare wooden floors with fresh straw laid on them. The table linen was spotlessly white, and the atmosphere was convivial. The two men were seated at a table in a corner, enjoying a meal of steak and kidney pie, washed down with mild ale, with apple tart to follow.

As they finished, Frederick said, “Now, Williams, I said I have a plan to help you and perhaps your sister, as well.”

“I’d be grateful for any help at all, sir.”

“I’ve come into a property and I plan to make into a school where poor boys can learn to read and write and then be apprenticed out to a merchant or artisan to learn a trade.”

“Oh, no, sir! I’m no teacher,” Williams said hastily.

“No, no,” Frederick laughed. “I know you’re not, but what I would like to do is hire you first as an overseer to see that the workmen do a good job, and I would also like to hire your sister as a cook to provide hot dinners for the workmen. She would have to purchase the foodstuffs, but the money would be provided.”

“What about when the workmen are finished?” Williams asked, with a worried look on his face.

“Not to worry, my friend. I want to keep you on, not as a butler, but as a steward, to oversee the operations of the plant. I have to tell you that this may entail using the dumb-waiter to raise lumber for the fireplaces up to the first floor—and to use a different dumb-waiter to bring the chamber pots down to the ground floor to empty them into the cess-pit at the bottom of the garden. It’s hard work, and not always the most pleasant of jobs. Are you interested?”

Williams thought for a minute and then said, “Yes, sir. I am! I’m strong, and I will do my best to give satisfaction. I think my sister will accept her job as well.”

“Excellent!” Frederick exclaimed. “You will have an office on one side of the front door, and a bed room next to that. Your sister will have her own office and bed room on the same floor right next to the kitchen. As time goes by we may be able to find a young lad to help you with the lifting and emptying.”

“Sergeant Fitzwilliams, I don’t know what to say. You have solved my problem and my sister’s problem as well. Thank you so much, sir.” Williams began to choke up and reach inside his coat for a handkerchief—only to clear something that had gotten into one of his eyes, you understand!

‘Now I have to find a teacher, and I wish I could find…’ Frederick thought to himself. ‘I’ll just have to put that dream on hold, I guess.’ Aloud he said, “Perhaps we should go to call on your sister and see what she thinks of all of this.”

“Yes, I can’t wait to tell Jane,” said Williams.

It was late and getting foggy, so Frederick hailed a hansom cab and in four minutes they were at the lodgings of Constable Williams and his sister Jane Dutton.

As the men alit from the cab, the door opened and Jane Barton, a woman with brown hair streaked with gray stood there.

“John, is that you?” she asked. “What do you mean, coming home so late? I’ve been that worried, and your dinner is almost ruined…and you’ve brought someone home with you!  Lawks a mercy! What will he think of me? Come in both of you, and have a nice warm!” She gave Frederick a slight curtsey.

The two men entered the dwelling, which was small, but immaculately kept. A cheerful fire blazed in the fireplace, and after introductions were made, Jane soon set mugs of hot rum punch before them and some sliced roast beef and pickle.

After Frederick explained his plans, Jane sat there for a minute, and then said, “Accept? Lord bless you, sir, of course I accept. My late husband and I never had no children, and now you’re giving me a chance to look after a whole school of them. Of course I accept!”

Leaving the happy brother and sister, Frederick drove to his own lodgings, stripped to his small clothes, and soon fell asleep. It had been a long day.

To be continued...

Author’s notes.

Readers should remember that in England, the floor above the ground floor is the first floor. Americans would call the ground floor the first floor.

I’ve had to spend some time considering problems of sanitation and heating. London was a dirty city. The amenities we take for granted were almost completely missing.

* ‘on the parish:’ to go into the parish alms house where inmates supported themselves by picking oakum, or sewing saddle bags, or other such tedious manual jobs.

As always my thanks to my reader, mentor, and friend, “Critter.”

Posted: 10/29/10