Read The Door That Led to Where Online
Authors: Sally Gardner
The Door That Led to Where (11 page)
On Monday morning, Morton was deep in a series of meetings with Mr Groat.
âSomething big's going down,' said Stephen.
AJ was looking at his emails in the hope that Leon might have contacted him. Much to his surprise there was an email from Mr Haggerty.
He pulled his chair closer and clicked on the attachment. The past crashed into him with such a jolt that he felt he had whiplash.
Annie Sorrell Executed For the Murder by Poison of the Jobey Family.
The case of this unfortunate young woman is still a mystery. The question of her innocence or guilt divided public opinion at the time.
Annie Sorrell was an uneducated seventeen-year-old servant girl with, by all contemporary accounts, a natural intelligence. She was tall, handsome and had a cheerful disposition. At the time of the murders she was engaged to a young man to whom she appeared to have been sincerely attached.
The murder of the Jobey family took place on Saturday, 13th February 1813 at their country house in rural Colney Hatch Lane, north of London. Old Jobey, as he was known, and his wife had one daughter. The Jobeys' only surviving son, Lucas, was born seven years after the death of his last sibling. By all accounts the boy was everything his father had wanted. He was educated at Westminster and went up to Cambridge where he had shown an interest in the law. But Old Jobey was keen for him to inherit the family business and Lucas Jobey travelled extensively on his father's behalf.
It was on Lucas's return from one of these journeys that Old Jobey's health began to deteriorate. He had bouts of temper that were completely out of character and his doctor suggested rest and less meat in the diet.
Mr Ingleby, who was employed as a secretary in Old Jobey's service, said in his evidence at the inquest that at the beginning of that fateful week his master had not been sleeping well. He refused to take the drafts the doctor gave him, calling them poison. Every night he would check, then check again that all the doors were locked. On the Friday he summoned the family to meet the following day on a matter of urgency.
At the house that Saturday was Old Jobey, his wife, their son Lucas and his sister, Rosamund.
Old Jobey gave the servants the day off. He was a very private man and did not want sensitive family business overheard by anyone. His wife protested, surprised that not even his trusted secretary Ingleby was to remain. Finally, Old Jobey agreed that Annie Sorrell should be left to serve the midday meal.
Annie Sorrell had been with the family two years.
In her testament she said that she had heated the mushroom soup as instructed by Cook and had tasted it with no ill effects. She had left it for a moment to answer the front-door bell but when she went upstairs there was nobody there.
On returning to the kitchen she poured the soup into a tureen and took it up to the dining room where the family was deep in conversation. She overheard that Lucas Jobey had recently married and intended to live abroad. She left the soup on the table and went to fetch the pies and cold meats. When she returned, her master was in a furious mood. Her mistress looked frightened and told Annie she would not be needed for the rest of the day.
Annie Sorrell was in the kitchen when the bell to her mistress's bedroom rang. She went up the stairs, past the dining room where she heard raised voices, and on up to her mistress's room. Annie Sorrell said she found it empty save for a magpie.
She claimed to remember nothing further and concluded that she had fainted. When she came to it was twilight.
She looked round the bedroom and thought she must have dreamt the magpie for there was no sign of the bird. She lit a candle and made her way downstairs, wondering why no one had called for her. Old Jobey was insistent that the candles were lit at dusk. She noted the time on the hall clock as being half-past five and hurried into the dining room to clear away the dishes before Mr Ingleby and the servants returned at six o'clock. In her testament she said that she heard a rattling, chattering sound and as she opened the door she felt truly afraid, but it was nothing to what followed.
The family were slumped over the table. All were dead. The tablecloth and rugs were stained with vomit and blood, and strutting about the table was the magpie. Annie Sorrell said she was terrified and ran from the house.
Mr Ingleby arrived with the servants to find the house in darkness. It was he who discovered the dreadful sight. The kitchen boy was sent to fetch a constable.
The physician who examined the bodies found unmistakeable signs that the victims had been poisoned.
Annie Sorrell was quickly brought to trial, found guilty and sentenced. An eminent lawyer, Mr Stone of Gray's Inn, went to the judge, offering to produce evidence that proved she could not have committed the crime. The judge assured him that such evidence would be wholly useless and the girl would be hanged in due course.
Annie Sorrell's sentence was delayed until she had been delivered of the child she was carrying. On the Sunday preceding her execution she was taken to the church inside Newgate Prison where, in sight of her fellow prisoners, she was seated beside her coffin in the condemned pew inside a black pen. Her face was white, the coffin sharply black but not one tear did she shed.
The following day a large crowd gathered for her execution and rooms overlooking the prison courtyard were rented for vast sums of money. Annie Sorrell wore a simple muslin dress and her last words were, âI am innocent.'
Her fiancé was present and was so disturbed by the sight of her hanging that he ran amok, attacking officials, and was arrested and brought to trial. He was sentenced to deportation.
AJ scrolled down the document in hope of finding the fiancé's name but there was nothing more. He stared vacantly into space. Annie Sorrell hovered over him, a leaden angel.
They say travel broadens the mind. If that was the case AJ's mind had expanded to the size of a planet. His brain was a puzzle factory. If Annie Sorrell didn't kill his father, who did? And why? Could Annie Sorrell be Miss Esme's mother? Nonsuch, he knew, was her father and he'd said that Lucas Jobey was his best mate. It wasn't so far-fetched to conclude that he'd met Annie.
Miss Esme had said that Mrs Dalton had helped women prisoners in Newgate and Annie Sorrell's baby was born in Newgate. Yes, he thought, it sort of fitted. And if Mrs Dalton had taken the baby home to save her from the workhouse, it would go some way to explaining why Samuel Dalton was such a mean monster. Especially if he'd never wanted the child â the child of a convicted murderess. But it was Dalton's will that worried AJ. It was cruel and didn't make any sense.
All miserable families are wasps' nests, AJ thought to himself. Only bees make honey. Next time he went back he would ask Ingleby what else he knew about Annie Sorrell and the murder of the Jobey family.
But before he could return he had to concentrate on finding Leon, and that meant tackling Dr Jinx. If the past had taught AJ anything, it was not to be frightened of the future.
Dr Jinx's place of business was a derelict house near the Prince pub. As long as AJ had known the dump it had been covered in scaffolding and plastic â a building site without builders.
Dr Jinx opened the door and tightened up when he saw AJ. AJ gripped the key in his pocket. The rusty iron gave him courage.
âWhat the fuck do you want?' said Dr Jinx.
âI'm looking for Leon.'
âAwa' an' bile yer heid.' Dr Jinx was about to close the door but AJ put his foot in it. âI said, wee man, scooby doo.'
âWhen did you last see him?' said AJ.
âDon't make me lose ma rag. Your friend, laddie, is in deep shit. He's taken money that should by rights be mine and if that little toerag doesn't return it, he'll be dead meat.'
AJ pushed his whole body against the door and to his surprise Jinx let him in. Apart from the stink of skunk, the graffiti-sprayed walls and the electrical sockets, the house could well belong to 1830.
âYou're asking for trouble, laddie,' said Dr Jinx.
âNo, I'm asking, where is Leon?'
Upstairs music was playing. AJ could hear laughter, though he couldn't imagine anything funny happening in a dump like this.
âJinx, baby  â¦Â ' a voice whined from one of the rooms.
Dr Jinx's mobile rang. He looked at it and turned it off.
âI heard he'd come into some money. The little scrooge bag should ha' paid me back. He should ha' done it because he's upset some very important people and they don't take kindly to anyone taking the cream off the top of their milk.'
âSo I take it you haven't seen him, then?' said AJ.
âNo. If you run into him tell him he's a marked man. Now bugger off and dinna come back.'
AJ walked down Edwards Lane, thinking about the deep shit Leon was in and Slim's problem with Moses. He wished he didn't feel so obligated to protect his friends. He was being selfish resenting them, yes, he knew that, but he wanted a chance to find out the truth about his murdered family. Maybe, just maybe, by doing so he would find his own destiny.
If he had been concentrating on the here and now he would have paid more attention to the gang waiting by the gates of Bodman House. In the orange of the street light he noticed one of them had a brand new motorbike. He must have nicked it, thought AJ. Then he saw that in the middle stood Moses.
AJ thought for a moment about turning round. He pulled up his jacket collar but, too late, Moses had seen him. There was nothing for it but to keep walking, avoid eye contact, look like a lion though he felt like a sheep.
âWhere he hiding, the fucking coward?' said Moses. âWhere Slim?'
Three of his gang had already blocked the entrance to the flats. A grey cat squeezed past them, meowing.
âHow should I know?' said AJ. âI'm not his keeper.'
âBut you his friend and you know. I see in your eyes, you lying.'
One of the gang had Moses's dog, a Staffy, on a chain and he was not doing a very good job of controlling it.
âShall I let it go?' he said to Moses.
AJ understood why Slim was so scared of the dog. It looked as if it hadn't been fed for days and was just waiting for a Slim to come along to feast off.
It was then he realised he was surrounded. Over the road he saw Alf from Flat 82 walk past, looking straight ahead. He'd fought in the Second World War, fought for a better country than this â well, that's what he used to tell AJ. He had no more fight in him.
âGive us your mobile,' said Moses.
âNo,' said AJ.
âYou give it him now, man, no messin',' said another of Moses's men.
Moses grabbed the phone from AJ before he had even retrieved it from his pocket. He read through the messages.
âSee, you lie to me. You seen Slim.'
Close up and personal, Moses was a big man. As far as AJ was concerned he was most probably made of prehistoric bone with a dinosaur of a brain.
âNo one lies to Moses,' he said, shoving AJ while the rest taunted him.
If this was Moses's game, AJ refused to play. He tried to push past into Bodman House but Moses grabbed at him.
âYou tell Slim, if I see him again I will kill him. I will not forget him. I will kill him for what he done.'
âWhat he's done?' said AJ, making mistake number one and quickly following it with mistake number two. âAccording to your bird he was incapable of doing anything so why are you causing so much trouble?'
âNo one messes with Moses's girl, no one.'
Mistake number three was that AJ didn't stop there even though it was obvious that Moses was out for a fight.
âSlim told me,' said AJ, âthat you are welcome to her. Sicknote is a fucking nightmare. It strikes me that you and her are a match made in hell's boudoir.'
He saw Moses's face, and something in the glint in his eye had changed. Moses said quietly, âLet the dog go.'
AJ hated fighting, had never been that good at it. His stomach did a lurch and before he even had a chance to raise his fists, Moses had hit him hard on the side of his head. He saw stars, felt himself fighting to stand upright. The third punch felt as if it had a dog attached to it somewhere down in his leg. Then he was lying on the pavement, the dog chewing his arm. Moses's face loomed over him and he pulled AJ up for another round of punches. AJ felt the cold of the pavement hard beneath him again, thought he saw Leon and tried to say, it's all right, bro, stay out of this, but there was too much blood in his mouth. Then everything stopped. He saw trainers running away, smelt petrol from the bike lying abandoned in the road, the fuel running into him. He heard the whining of the dog and he thought, I just need to stand up. It's too cold to lie here.
âHe's dead,' Alf said.
No, I'm not, AJ wanted to shout. He was shouting, wasn't he? Don't light a fag, Alf, whatever you do, don't light that fag. There were more people now.
Someone else said, âTerrible  â¦Â '
I'm alive, thought AJ. What is wrong with everyone? Why couldn't they hear him? The last thing he remembered were blue lights flashing on the inside of his eyelids.
AJ was conscious of lying in bed, tubes coming out of his nose, his mouth, his arms. If I'm dead, he thought, no one would bother with this, would they? He vaguely wondered if it was embalming twenty-first century style. There was a clinical clank of machinery and the comforting sight of a nurse. She was fiddling with monitors, his bodily functions appearing in ziggly lines.
He drifted in and out of consciousness. At one point he saw his mum. She sat next to him, tears running down her face. Later he wondered if he'd imagined that. Time ran into a sluggish puddle.
âThey don't like to keep you in for too long,' said Elsie. AJ had been taken from the intensive care unit and put into a side ward. âI would think you'll be out of here before you're ready, dear.' She handed him a bag of Brazil nuts. âHope you don't mind, love, but I sucked the chocolate off them. I washed them afterwards so they're as good as new.'
âThanks,' said AJ, making a mental note not to eat them. âAuntie Elsie, what happened to Moses?'
âHaven't they told you, love? A bloke in a hoodie pushed Moses and his dog off you. They say he probably saved your life. Alf finally collected what's left of his marbles and called the police. Moses ran for it. Not before that dog of his had made a meal of your arm and leg. They arrested Moses an hour later.'
âDid they arrest the dog too?'
âIt was put down. It was a pit bull cross â it's illegal to own one.'
AJ looked at his bandaged arm. A souvenir from a dead dog.
AJ was playing chess with a two-faced man.
âYou can't have it both ways,' he said. âAn open door is an open invitation. I should know. I am Time's bouncer. I keep the riff-raff out.
He must have fallen asleep because when he woke Auntie Elsie had gone. His reality seemed to come in bite sizes, punctuated by the roaring of vivid dreams.
AJ's doctor scanned his chart. AJ tried to sit up. That was a mistake. He couldn't feel his right leg.
âThree broken ribs and concussion,' said the doctor.
âHave I still got two legs?'
âYes. One is rather mauled but with rest and physiotherapy you should be all right. Where do you live?'
âBodman House in Stoke Newington.'
âIs there a lift?'
âNo. That would make life much too easy for everyone.'
âWhich floor do you live on?'
âThe fifth.'
âWithout a lift?'
AJ nodded. He could see the doctor struggling to imagine what that might be like.
âThe police want to ask some questions. Are you up to it?'
âI suppose so,' he said, sleep threatening to kidnap him again.
Detective Poilaine must have been waiting outside as she came in as soon as the doctor had left. AJ hadn't expected to see her. Surely she was too high up to be bothering with a gang beating.
âI'm sorry to see you in such a state, Aiden,' she said. âYou've had a rough time of it.'
He leaned back on the pillows.
âI'm not here about the attack on you â that's being dealt with by Stoke Newington police,' said Detective Poilaine. âI am here for an altogether different reason. Last night my colleagues raided premises in Hatton Garden belonging to a fence. He's known to deal in antique jewellery, watches, that sort of thing. Among many other stolen items an extremely valuable eighteenth century snuffbox was found. Here, have a look.'
She showed him a photo on her mobile phone. He recognised the snuffbox he'd given Leon. A second photo showed an inscription inside the lid. It floated in and out of focus for a moment or two before he was able read it.
Lucas Jobey
Shit.
âIt's an unusual surname, Aiden. Was there a Lucas Jobey in your family?'
âI don't know. I'll ask my mum.'
âThe fence said it had been brought to him about three weeks ago by a young man wearing a hoodie'. She sighed. âThat description fits nearly all the youths in London. He said he wasn't white.'
Please, thought AJ. They haven't arrested Leon  â¦Â
Something attached to him started to sound alarm bells and as the nurse rushed in, AJ passed out.
He dreamed he was standing outside a house set among darkly gathered trees. One window was ablaze with light and through the proscenium arch of the curtains he could see cardboard cut-out figures seated at a table. They were his father and his grandfather. On the table a cut-out magpie stood, flapping its cardboard wings.
His mum came to visit him and brought Roxy with her. She had made a card with a giant slug on the front. Inside she'd written
Miss You
.
âThey said they wouldn't let you out of hospital,' Jan said, âbecause of the stairs and the injury to your leg.'
âI don't want to stay here. I am definitely not staying here for Christmas,' said AJ.
Jan smiled, and her hard face softened.
âI've told the doctor you'll be staying with Elsie. As she lives on the second floor and there aren't that many steps, they agreed you could come out tomorrow as long as you rest up.'
AJ knew that his mum's pride must have taken a tumble to agree to let him stay at Elsie's.
He did something he'd never done before. He took hold of his mum's hand and although it hurt him, he squeezed it a little.
Roxy was fiddling about, looking in the bedside locker. Jan took out her purse and gave Roxy some money.
âGo to the shop and buy yourself a bar of chocolate,' she said.
AJ waited until she had gone.
âThanks,' he said. âThanks for coming.'
Jan had a tear in her eye.
âStop it,' she said softly. âI don't want to go through an emotional car wash.'
The following day he was taken home in an ambulance. Not the kind with flashing lights, but the kind in which rows of ill people sit looking sorry for themselves, and he was definitely one of them. He had been given a walking stick and assured that, with physio, in no time at all he would be as good as new.
Elsie had made a big effort to make the flat look nice and, it being near Christmas, she had even gone so far as to hang up some paper chains. AJ slumped onto her sofa. On the side table sat a purple urn containing Leon's mum's ashes. Elsie had put a little wreath of plastic flowers around the top and it looked like a strange shrine.
AJ must been staring at it for some time because when Elsie brought in tea and biscuits she nodded at it and said, âLooks a little brighter, doesn't it? And I'm getting used to the colour. I think she quite likes watching TV.'
âYou are kidding,' said AJ, trying not to laugh.
Laughter and broken ribs weren't a good mix.
It was a few days before Christmas Eve when Morton paid a call. AJ, who had taken to watching children's television, mainly because his brain couldn't concentrate on reading, nearly jumped up in surprise when he saw Morton standing there.
âTea?' said Elsie.
Tea and buttered toast was Elsie's solution to everything that didn't look too serious.
AJ had been dreading this. He knew it was coming. He just wondered why Morton hadn't written to tell him that he was out of a job.
âHow're you feeling?' said Morton, handing AJ a well-wrapped package.
âWhat's this?' asked AJ.
âOpen it,' said Morton, seriously.
Inside AJ found three pork spare ribs.
âI thought you might be needing them,' said Morton.
AJ burst out laughing. He couldn't stop laughing and the pain in his side was something terrible but the laughter felt so good.
Elsie came in with the tray of tea. âWe'll have them for supper,' she said and took them away, leaving Morton and AJ alone.
Morton drank his tea.
âNice flat. Homely,' he said. âReminds me of where I grew up.'
âAre you here to fire me?' said AJ, battling to think of another reason for Morton's visit.
âNo. I'm here to bring you three spare ribs and to tell you that Stephen has left to go to another chambers.'
âOh. Thanks,' said AJ, though he couldn't for the life of him think why he was expected to care one way or the other what happened to Stephen.
âNo,' said Morton. âOf course I'm not here just to tell you that. I'm here to offer you a permanent job as junior clerk.'
After Morton had gone, AJ sat, stunned. He had been offered a job â a full-time, paid job with a future. Then why wasn't he hopping round the flat with joy? Simple. As crazy as it sounded, he was beginning to wonder which century he belonged in. He had until January to decide â perhaps time enough to find out who killed his father. And maybe find the documents that authenticated the snuffboxes. Mr Baldwin had been sure that with them he would win the case.
AJ smiled. If he went back to the past they would be a thank you present for Morton. If he stayed in the present they would give him a boost in his new position. And anyway, he liked the idea of Ms Finch winning. He liked the idea a lot.