The Hangman Tragedy Part 2

Hurriedly, she led him through the stringent crowd into a large tavern. the tavern was filled with people who had come from every corner of Cadbury to witness the hanging and some of them were already calling for bets on how long the criminal would last stretched down the noose. “It was a highway man that was to be hung and there is something I wish for you to see,” Betty had explained when he asked her about the hanging and why they were going to see it. They pushed through the crowd to a flight of stairs that led up to the roof where their seats were. The seats were exclusive and were four in number, and one was already occupied. Doctor James Longbutton assumed the seats must have ben expensive, but he did not question her about it.

“Quite a view eh?” Betty asked him as they sat down.

James shrugged in response. He wasn’t one for too many words, and Betty had known him long enough to understand that his reticence never implied any insult of any kind.

‘From here we can see the rungs layin’ and the whole thing. That’s why I paid for these exclusive seats, ‘cos I don’t want no bleeding bugger obstructing my view of the show.’ Betty continued.

“Show?” there was a sententious tone in James voice, “this is execution Betty. Not an entertainment for your pleasure.”

“Oh, loosen up,” she nudged him, smiling briefly as she did so. She understood him, perhaps, more than any other person in the whole of England and they had been together for a while and he had loved her more than he had ever loved anything else, but as fortuitous as things became, they decided to part ways. And he felt that was the best they could have done, given how different they were: Betty was ambitious and urban, he on the other hand was indifferent and rustic. Yet, even after all these years, there was something about her that sparked in his eyes, a distinct glow, coruscating when she smiled. And perhaps that was why he had never really fancied any other woman after she had left him.

“Betty,” he said in a warning tone, “why am I here? What was the matter of grave importance which you spoke of in your letters?”

He turned as another man came up the roof. He was a fairly sized man with an oval shaped face, he had eyes that seemed to sink inside their sockets and a certain gentle air around him. He wore a round derby hat and carried an umbrella.

“Miss. Betty,” the man greeted, taking the other empty seat, ‘and you must be Doctor James Longbutton.” He said to James, and stretched his hand for a handshake, a genial smile wrung across his face.

James shook his hand gently, “I don’t remember ever having the pleasure sir.”

“This here is Earl Christopher Wentworth,” Betty introduced the fellow, “deputy administrator of the home office. It was he who demanded I summon you here. Business and all.”

The crowd below jumped into a frenzy as soon as the prisoner climbed on to the platform, cheering and yelling. while some had started to throw fruits at the man, some were begging the hangman, a man with a round belly that looked in his early fifties, to make the hanging much slower, which in turn meant more painful.

“Ever witnessed a hanging before Doctor? or should I say detective?” Christopher asked him.

“No. This is my first time.” he replied, eager to change the subject, “tell me, why am I here?”
Christopher pulled his hat and swept his hand gently across his hair. On the platform, the prisoner had already had his hands bound to his back and the noose around his neck, while the hangman had his hand positioned on the lever, all waiting for the cardinal to complete his sermon of repentance.

“It is a complex one, this system we have.’ Said Christopher, ‘you are not of a radical disposition are you?”

James shook his head, “Nonetheless, I do not believe in the bleeding code. Too many flaws believe me, and too many injustices.”

“Well, sometimes you need injustice, as a herald of course, to proper justice.” Said Christopher, “do you agree with me Betty?” Betty was not even paying any attention to what the men discussed. Her attention was on the platform and on the cardinal, who rained all sort of condemnation on the condemned prisoner.

“Enough politics now sir Christopher. Once again, I ask you, why have you asked for my presence?” James asked, his patience wearing thin.

“Because I need your help doctor.” Christopher replied, “I need you to help me find Robinhood.”