It was a strange request, one that bristled with repressed anger.
Still, Pyke said he would do whatever the old man asked him.
‘Excellent.’ Fox nodded, seemingly back to his old self. ‘And you’ll keep me informed with regular reports?’
Pyke promised he would.
‘Well, that’s settled, then.’ Fox held out his hand and Pyke shook it without knowing what had been settled.
It struck him only later that, in agreeing to be Fox’s eyes and ears, he had permitted himself to be used in a way that he couldn’t quite fathom. But then again, he had no plans to disclose everything that he turned up. Fox would find out only what he wanted him to.
The fact that the private chambers of the Secretary of State for the Home Department were disappointingly spare was not a reflection on the rest of the building. Indeed, as they were led through a maze of interconnected rooms, it was hard not to be impressed by the ornate furnishings and gilt decorations, and, in one instance, a cantilevered staircase that extended through the full height of the building. But when they were finally ushered into Peel’s private chambers, Pyke was surprised to discover that, with the exception of the vast library of books that lined every part of the wall, the man’s office was small and functional. The impression of being cramped was augmented by the large number of people already in the room. This was not the informal meeting between themselves and the Home Secretary Fox had been expecting. Even to Pyke’s untrained eye, it resembled a full-scale conference of war.
Peel was standing in front of a large mahogany desk. He was a tall, elegant man with a long distinguished face and a full head of curly, reddish hair. He was fashionably dressed and wore powder, though this was perhaps explained by the fact that he had come directly from an official function in order to convene the meeting. Excusing himself from another conversation, Peel came over to greet them. He seemed to know Fox well and referred to him amiably as ‘Sir Richard’, but there was no warmth in his voice, and he treated Pyke as he might have done a servant. He wasn’t actively rude but simply seemed to look through Pyke as though he were not there.
‘Right, gentlemen, if you could all take a seat, perhaps we could make a start.’ He spoke with a faint Lancashire accent. ‘First of all, I would like to thank you for coming here at such short notice. Your assistance at such a vexing time, I can assure you, is much appreciated. Most of you will already know one another but for those who are less familiar with the persons gathered in this room, perhaps you will permit me, for the sake of expediency, to go around and make your introductions.’
Their chairs were arranged in a semicircle arching around the desk that Peel now sat behind.
‘To my right,’ Peel began, ‘is, of course, Sir Henry Hobhouse, the now retired Home Office under-secretary who, along with the gentleman next to him, William Gregson, a fine barrister in his own right, has been assisting me in drafting the new Metropolitan Police Bill. As I’m sure you all know, I will be presenting the bill to the House next month.’ He glanced over at Sir Richard. ‘I’ve asked them to sit in on this meeting because the terrible events of this evening, and my proposed response, have implications for our legislative programme. Next to them is James Hardwick, the esteemed criminologist who, I am reliably informed, studied under Becarria. Mr Hardwick will provide us with a preliminary report into the psychological background of the man who killed these people.’
Pyke looked at the bespectacled young man with his smug expression and oiled hair and wondered how he was able to comment on something he knew nothing about.
‘To my left, we all know Sir Richard Fox, the chief magistrate at Bow Street, and next to him is . . .’ Peel looked at Fox rather than at Pyke. Fox said, ‘Pyke,’ and Peel nodded and said, ‘This is Mr Pyke, who is a Bow Street Runner and had the misfortune of discovering the dead bodies. Mr Pyke will, I hope, report precisely what happened. And finally we have Charles Hume, who served under the duke at Waterloo.’ Peel did not elaborate beyond this and left Pyke and others in the room wondering in what capacity Charles Hume had been invited to the meeting.
The only other person in the room was a large, bug-eyed man with black hair and coarse skin. Peel did not introduce him and he took a seat at the back of the room.
‘I’m sure I don’t need to underline the seriousness of the public-order situation we’re now facing. Nor do I need to stress the significance of what’s happened in relation to the Metropolitan Police and Catholic emancipation bills that I’m planning to present to the Commons in the next few months. You’ll understand, of course, these events threaten both pieces of legislation, yet also underline their importance . . .’
As Peel spoke, Pyke studied the impassive faces of those gathered in the room and then the expensively bound editions mounted on the wall behind him. He wondered how many of them Peel had actually read. He seemed like an intelligent man but Pyke could not help but think that the quantity of books functioned, in the main, as a reminder to others of Peel’s superior learning.
Peel asked Fox to explain what measures had already been undertaken to police the area and secure the scene of the murders, and Fox outlined what had already been done by the Bow Street magistrates and Runners. If nothing else, Fox’s account served to reinforce Pyke’s belief that he had authorised such an extensive deployment only in order to garner the political capital.
The more he was seen to be doing, and the more the Runners were seen to be involved with the investigation, the harder it would be for Peel to push them aside.
When he had finished, Peel thanked Fox for all the fine work that had been done, and in his forthright way said that, as someone who remained integral to the business of policing the city, Sir Richard, when it came to the preservation of public order, was still very much needed for his expertise.
No one in the room could have missed the implication behind what he was saying.
Fox seemed appalled. ‘With all due respect, Home Secretary, as the events today in Hyde Park demonstrated, there is no other organisation or group of men currently available to perform such a task, except of course the armed forces.’
‘At present, yes, you’re quite right.’ Peel regarded Fox with amusement.
‘So it’s not a gift you’re bestowing on us, Home Secretary, this burden of policing the city.’
‘It is a duty I’m asking you to perform.’
‘Asking or commanding?’ Fox said, like a bad-tempered card player, unable to see he was compelling Peel to show his hand.
Peel just smiled. ‘This is the problem with having to make decisions within a system comprising different and sometimes competing authorities. As a military man, the duke would say the same thing. Can you imagine what would happen on a battlefield if there were two generals on the same side, each employing a different strategy? It’s why I intend to bring all aspects of policing in London under one single authority, to be established under the direct control of this office.’
In that moment, whether Fox realised it or not, Peel had driven a nail into the coffin of the Bow Street organisation.
Fox tried to gather his thoughts. ‘But that still leaves the pressing question of how to proceed with this particular investigation.’
Peel regarded him with amusement. ‘In what sense?’
‘Well, as de facto head of policing in the capital . . .’
‘Nominal head of policing,’ Peel said, as though clearing up a minor quibble. ‘As of tonight, the investigation into the St Giles murders will be handed over to a team assembled under the authority of this office, to be led by our friend Charles Hume. Charles distinguished himself serving under the duke at Waterloo and if, as expected, the new bill is passed, I intend to ask him to be one of two commissioners responsible for overseeing the new force. The investigation will be run from what I hope will become the headquarters of the new force at number four Whitehall Place. The adjoining watch house that backs on to Great Scotland Yard will house his team while number four is being prepared. Of course, Charles has my full authority in all matters regarding the investigation. I hope you will all work closely with him to ensure that we find whoever perpetrated this abominable act before the mob rears its ugly head and before a drop of Catholic blood is spilled.’
Pyke was impressed with the ruthlessness with which Peel had dealt with Fox.
But Sir Richard was not quite beaten. ‘Pardon me, Home Secretary, for bringing up a matter so trifling as the law, but will the arrangements you propose earn the approval of the House?’
Peel wasn’t even slightly thrown by the question. He explained that it was for precisely this reason that he’d
