Chapter 5: Arthur
Arthur walks down the street to the newsstand to pick up the days paper. The Red Caps have been doing well this season and last night they beat Chicago, who has also been doing well. Tommy Bonds has moved out of a slight slump, and is recalling throwing some dingers to Snyder. Good game outcomes give Arthur a little pep to his step as he walks. .
Arthur gets his paper and briefly sees the headline, more Back Bay development and begins to head toward his office. The morning walks are meditative and Arthur spends them creating a plan to tackle all the work laid out before him. He’s had a tough case in front of him as of late that has hit a wall and he’s trying everything he can to get the momentum going.
The day is bright and warm and Arthur tilts his hat down to black the sun from his eyes as he crosses the street. The bakery on the corner is always a welcome breath as the smell of fresh bread pumps out of the door. Sometimes he will stop in to grab something on the way to work for him and Harry. But today there is much to do as Arthur is committed to making some progress on this case today.
He rounds the next corner to the left, and the smell from the harbor hits his nose. Being early in the morning, the sea smell is still very strong, a welcome dose of morning energy to help him on his day.
Arthur reaches the door to his office and puts the key in the door only to find that the door is unlocked, Harry has beat him to the office. They must be as eager as he to make some movement on this case.
He heads down the hall to the office door and it’s open to allow for airflow. Harry is already at their desk off to the side and has recently added a map of the United States to the wall. When he walks in, they have their back to him, feet up on the desk sipping tea and staring at the map.
‘How long ya reckon it would take to get to Illinois?’ Harry asks without turning around.
‘What if it wasn’t I that just walked in?’ Arthur asks as he walks over to his desk and tosses his paper on it.
‘Nah, your walk. I’d know the sound of it if I didn’t hear ya for a hundred years,’ they quipped, and then takes their feet down and turns around to look at him.
‘Nice map, how much did that set you back?’
‘Guy owes me a favor. I found his dog a couple months ago. It’s current, he’s a cartographer. I should make sure that dog goes missin about every year or two so we always have a fresh-en,’ they say jokingly to Arthur.
‘Is this the reason for your early arrival today?’ Arthur inquires. Harry coming in early isn’t unusual, their work just usually sets them later into the night.
Harry shrugs, ‘Eh, he didn’t want his boss to see me.’
Arthur and Harry have worked together for a few years now. When Arthur was a lawyer full time, he met Harry during an illegal gambling case. Harry was young and spry and had their own way of fitting into the world. Harry was tied into the underground of Boston and could move around freely. They knew who all the major players were, even if they didn’t know them personally, they usually knew who their runners were and those relationships were priceless for getting information. Over a short time, Arthur’s case load began to change as people started to learn he wasn’t in law to practice it to the letter, but to help people. He was able to help some of Harry’s friends on the side, and when he had to help Harry, the firm gave Arthur the axe.
By then, Arthur’s reputation had started to gain some traction. A lawyer who actually helps people? That wasn’t something real people had really seen. But his firing was a hit to his ego and he took it out to the North End with a barrel of whiskey (or so he says).
-
-5 mos prior-
After about a week drinking his way through the North End, Arthur was passed out on the floor of his apartment, it must have been raining because he felt the rain coming through the ceiling and hitting him on the head.
Drip, drip, drip.
It felt good, he was hot and this rain would surely cool the city and him off. Then it dawned on him, he lives on the second floor of a four story building and the sun was out. He quickly reaches for his knife that isn’t there and rolls over to face the foreign being in his apartment. As soon as he does the dark figure pins his arms and sits on his chest. Arthur blinks a few times, its Harry looking down at him with a slightly amused look on their face. They take a drink of water out of the glass they’re is holding.
‘Ya get that out of your system, did ya? Tough blow, I know, but you’re not done for. People been talkin. And I ‘ave an idea.’ Harry takes another drink of water. ‘Get up, I’d say splash some water on your face, but you smell like the floor of a bar after my cousins have come through. So take care of that and meet me outside the North Church in an hour.’
And with that, Harry hopped off Arthur, drank the last bit of water in the glass, setting it on the table by the door and walked out closing the door gently behind.
Harry’s wake up call didn’t find him as hungover as he had been other days, fortunately, so he rolled over and took a couple sniffs at his clothes. They wern’t exaggerating, he did smell pretty bad. Arthur took his time moving about his apartment, he hadn’t really organized anything for a bit, so he slowly started to take inventory of the clean clothes he did have and the ones he needed to drop off downstairs to Mary to wash.
He stood up to the wash basin, poured water in from the pitcher and started to clean up. He should be irritated at Harry, but the week of drinking wasn’t making him feel any better and had started to make him feel worse. He was ready to figure out what was next or really, what firm was next. Getting fired isn’t really something other places want to see, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get another job.
After Arthur gets dressed and ties together a bundle of laundry, he begins to make his way downstairs to Mary’s. Mary is a kind woman who lives in the building. She immigrated over from Ireland with her brother who got sick on the boat and died. Arthur had met her a few months after her arrival, sleeping in a church and looking for work. He got her set up in a unit in his building and she cleans for a firm partner and does laundry on the side.
He sets the bundle by her door, she will know who’s it is based off the handkerchief he tied around it, and makes his way on to the street. Heading out to the left, Arthur checks his watch, he still has about 30 minutes to get to the North Church, so he stops in at the barber for a trim and a shave.
The hot towel around his face is just what the doctor ordered for any lingering hangover. By the time he’s done there, he has just enough time to catch Harry. Harry won't wait around for him, something he has come to know.
As he walks up, Harry is sitting on a half wall, legs dangling over the edge facing the church. Even up close, with a cap on, Harry blends into the city, which they use to their advantage to get into places most people couldn’t easily walk into. They’re not a crook, they choose to live somewhere in between.
“Well, well,” Harry begins to tease, “look at this fine bloke! You’re as fresh as a daisy!” Harry hops off the wall, reached in their pocket and starts to roll a cigarette.
“I thought you only smoked at night?’ Arthur asks. Even though so many people do smoke, Arthur doesn’t and he really isn’t a fan of it.
Harry puts their hand up in a defensive gesture with a little smile, ‘I’m just getting it ready for later. Boy, you might look like a daisy, but that flower is still a bit thorny.’
‘So why have you called me here? What this big idea? I can’t really help anyone at the moment, I need to help myself first.’ Arthur had gotten a little down in the mouth on his walk from the barber. He just spent more money without knowing when he was getting paid again and that will only last so long.
‘I told you I have an idea, didn’t I?’
Arthur nods, furrowing his brow a bit. Maybe last nights shenanigans had not completely worn off the way he hoped, a bit of warmth came over him making him feel a little uneasy.
‘You’ve been helpin’ people around here, but you haven’t been helpin as many that need help. I’ve helped a few I could, still we have to say no to some. What if we go into business together? You with all your learnin and me with the things I know, we could really get some people out of these situations!’ Harry was hoping around a bit on their feet clearly excited at this idea.
Arthur liked the idea of helping more of these people, most of the jobs were small and just needed the officialness of a lawyer’s stamp to get things moving, but there’s barely any money in it. Most people pay in goods and services. Which is exactly what he says to Harry.
‘Ya gotta eat, eh? Get your clothes cleaned, and such? As I see it, if you don’t have to spend money on things you would, then that’s less money you need to live. I may not be no lawyer, but I get that.’
Arthur sighs, he doesn’t really want to commit his life to this on a whim, he hasn’t even tried to find a new job yet, he’s still a lawyer. But he knows Harry won’t let this go, they got bit by the bug to help people and there’s no stopping them. At least with his participation he can help them stay (mostly) within the arm of the law.
‘I will agree to help people while I look for a new position with a firm. But once I’m back in office in an official way, our work will have to go back to part time and VERY under the firm’s radar. I don’t want to be hopping from firm-to-firm my whole life. Deal?’
Harry looked at him closely, they really didn’t want to do this part time, they had a vision, ‘Maybe by the time you get your fancy office, I take over the helpin of people full time and only use you to consult?’ Their eyebrows raised at him as they lean back on their heels.
Arthur smirks and crosses his arms, ‘Is my contribution so small to be part-time?’ He challenges back.
‘Ha! You’re going to enjoy this!’ Harry spins around and starts walking ahead.
‘Harry, where are you going now?’ He hollers after her.
‘Our first case! Common!’ Harry yells back without looking behind them.
He begins to follow, wondering if he should have bothered to bathe, sometimes Harry’s cases can take them to some unsavory parts of town, but being mid-morning hopefully this one won’t get him dingy.
Harry is a few paces ahead and rounds the corner out of sight, when Arthur turns the corner, he almost runs right into them. Harry is standing facing him next to a door propped open. Inside he can see people sitting around tables eating and drinking, a little pub Looking up at the sign it says: Brickwall Pub and Inn.
Harry gestures Arthur in with a little bow, and Arthur obliges walking up the couple steps inside.
Even with the warmth of summer outside, the cobblestone floor and breeze off the harbor blows through the open windows keeping the space cool. It’s bright enough not to require the kerosene lamps to be on, and people, mostly men are sitting around wooden tables drinking and eating. Harry cuts in front of Arthur and walks to a booth in the corner. Harry sits facing the door leaving Arthur to face the wall-clearly on purpose.
‘Are you not wanting me to see something specific or shall I guess?’ Arthur jokes.
‘I want them to see me,’ Harry says eyes scanning the room.
‘And who are they?’ Arthur leans back into the seat a bit getting comfortable. Harry is a little amped and he still isn’t feeling fully himself, so while he doesn’t need to be working, he will take the rest when he can get it. The cool back of the wood booth feels good against his freshly shaven neck, and he lets his eyes close for a moment.
‘Whatta ya have?’ Jerks Arthur to attention, the bar maid comes up holding five mugs in one hand and a rag in the other, as she wipes some crumbs off to the floor.
‘I’ll do one of those,’ Arthur points to the mug and leans his head back.
‘A lil hair o’ the dog, eh?’ The barmaid jokes.
Harry snorts, ‘More like a big hair!’
The bar maid laughs, ‘We’lol get ya fixed up, my love. Don’t you worry. A meat pie is just the thing you need to set yourself right.’
‘We’ll take two,’ Harry says. And the bar maid walks off.
‘This seems to be the exact sort of thing that got me in this position in the first place,’ Arthur raises an eyebrow at Harry.
Harry makes a small shake of their head, ‘Not exactly, now we’re on the job!’
‘Are we? Why have I never heard of this place before?’ Arthur asks looking around.
‘Got me, they make some of the best meat pies in the city.’
Arthur leans back in his seat. He really needs to be out working his contact to secure his next position, but he hasn’t figured out how to explain his firing. Mitchum said he would give him positive references, he always thought fondly of Arthur and even helped him with some of his unofficial cases, but as they do, lawyers talk, and it wouldn’t be long before anyone good at their job knows why Arthur was suddenly inquiring for a new position.
The bar maid drops off two mugs of house ale and heads to her next table. Arthur takes a long pull from his, closing his eyes. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to drink ale after all the whiskey last night, but as soon as it passed his lips, he knew this was the right decision. With one swallow, his belly began to relax and then the rest of his body.
Harry is sitting quietly watching the room with their hand on the mug, but yet to drink any of it. Occasionally Arthur feels Harry looking at him. He can tell this case means something to Harry. Are they so convinced in this case to believe it will convince Arthur to step away from practicing law? Arthur wonders.
Harry catches Arthur staring, ‘I don’t get any prettier, no matter how long you stare,’ they say without looking at him.
‘Apologies, Harry, I went off someplace in my mind.’ Arthur quickly looks over to the window.
‘Yeah? Well, I hope you were there alone,’ they say dryly.
‘Well, I do feel very alone, what we are doing here?’ Arthur looking squarely at Harry.
Harry’s eyes don’t budge, ‘Eh, eh.’ Harry waves their hand at him low on the table indicating him to stop then holds their palm flat down on the wooden top-he can tell they see something. Then with their eyes fixed like a cat, Harry does a nod of the chin to someone in the distance and waits. In a few seconds, Harry stands up to let the person slip into their booth and Harry quickly sits down next to them.
Their new companion is a young woman in her 20’s, blonde hair, dressed well, but not elegant. As soon as she sits down, Arthur can tell she’s had some formal education, in the way she sits tall, right hand crossed over left instead of placing them on the table.
“How do you do,’ Arthur offers, ‘I apologize for not standing for a lady, but I was given the indication I needed to stay seated,’ as he shoots a look at Harry.
‘How do you do, Mr. Wexley,’ she said looking more at his mug than at him.
‘Well, thank you, and may I ask to whom I am addressing?’ He looks between their companion and Harry.
Harry snaps to attention and allows their eyes to come back to the table and their companions. ‘Arthur Wexley, this is Miss Grace Allin. She has something she wants our help with.’ Harry says and then goes back to watching the room.
‘Miss Grace,’ Arthur proceeds, ‘please excuse my companion, they seem to have forgotten anything resembling etiquette today. What brings to to sit at this table today?’
‘Mr. Wexley, thank you, but Harriett is very aware of why I am here and the sensitivity of this case. She is only looking out for me.’ Upon hearing Harry called ‘Harriett,’ Harry looked away. They hate to be called that, but women especially seem to have an aversion to calling Harry by anything other than their formal name.
‘Sensitive nature? Please continue, Miss Allin.’ Arthur takes another sip of his ale.
‘Mr. Wexley, I believe that members of my family have been taken,’ Grace says in a very low voice. ‘My father’s youngest brother and his family were due to arrive from London six weeks ago and when the ship arrived, we were told they all caught the fever and died. A family of four sir. How is that possible?’
Arthur, looks over to Harry who glances back at him. Harry softens and turns a little toward Grace, ‘You have to tell him the rest.’
‘Mr. Wexley, I understand that in travel, things can happen and for a spell, we mourned them, my father still mourns, but then I was volunteering at the hospital a week later and a very small girl runs in. She couldn’t have been more than five or six and she ran straight into my arms holding on so tight, Sir, I have never felt fear in this way. Almost immediately two men, who look like they are from the docks come in claiming they are looking for their daughter, and Mr. Wexley, this little one clung so hard to me I thought she was going to draw blood. And when they came up to claim her saying she was their daughter, that little girl whispered in my ear, ‘They took us.’ Before letting the man take her back. Mr. Wexley, the hairs on the back of my head stood up.’
‘The little girl went back with the two men?’ Arthur asked.
‘Yes, reluctantly, I fear. She stared me down from over the man's shoulder as though she was making sure I heard her. Mr. Wexley, this little girl did not look like this man. He didn’t interact with her like a father, but like a guard. Her words haunt my thoughts.’
‘So you believe that maybe this is the fate of your family as well? Four people are very hard to make disappear, Miss Allin.’ Arthur wasn’t convinced.
‘Mr. Wexley, I went to the docks to find the ship or anyone who knew the captain. No one would talk to me. They just said they didn’t know anything and avoided me after that. I walked the docks for two days asking people things, asking again. At the end of the second day, when the workers had all gone home, I was getting ready to leave the docks too. A small man, without much hair on the top of his head stopped me. He had been hiding in the shadows. I thought he was going to take my bag, but he didn’t take his knife out of his belt. He said, ‘You need to stop coming around here anymore, for your own good.’ When I tried to explain, he stopped me and said, ‘you mourn your family and let them go or you’re going to get hurt.’ I asked him if he was going to hurt me and he said, ‘nah, but you stop messin round here. They have ears everywhere.’ And then he slipped away, I tried to go after him, but he knows the docks better than I and it was getting dark. So I went home. Mr. Wexley, there is some funny business going on.’
Grace stopped talking and took a breath watching Arthur.
Arthur embraces the silence and takes a moment to process the story. He leans his head back against the tall wood of the booth and his eyes rest on a spot of wall above Grace and Harry’s heads.
Without looking down he starts, ‘Legally, there isn’t much to be done-.’
‘I’m not asking you as a lawyer, Mr. Wexley. I’m asking you as an investigator.’
Arthur looks down at Harry and tilts his head. Is this the pitch Harry made her?
‘Miss Allin, I’m not sure what Harry told you, but we are not the police. I am a lawyer and Harry has been in my employ for a time as a…well, a researcher.’ To that Harry made a small reaction in their face clearly indicating Arthur was oversimplifying their work. Arthur and Harry had never really discussed the nature of Harry’s work-so to hear them be labeled with any title was odd.
‘Mr. Wexley,’ Grace persisted, ‘my father is the druggist on Boylston Street, he’s a good man who works hard. He was bringing his brother’s family over here to begin a new life. My uncle is a confectioner. They were going to work together and expand the business to include sweets. My uncle is a kind person who is as sweet as his wares. Why would anyone want to take him?’
‘I’m familiar with your father’s shop. But Miss Allin, there is no proof connecting the little girl at the hospital to your uncle. Perhaps they really all succumb to fever on the boat over?’ Arthur wasn’t trying to be difficult, but there wasn’t much to go on. Conjecture at best.
‘Mr. Wexley, I see that you are not interested in helping me, and that’s unfortunate, so I will not waste any more of your time.’ Grace moves to get out of the booth and Harry lets her. As Grace gets out, she turns back to Arthur, leans down to him slightly pointing her finger accusingly, ‘But Mr. Wexley, by refusing to help, you’re as complicit in the hiding the truth as the rest of them.’ And walks out of the pub.
Harry sits back down looking at Arthur and Arthur back at Harry. Harry’s face doesn’t look defeated, but more curious. Arthur looks a little defeated, getting scolded by a woman never really feels good and he’s had a lot of experience with that.
‘Meat pies, boys!’ The bar maid walks up with their food. ‘Fresh out of the oven, oh, you’re lady friend not staying, eh? Yeah, she’s a little out of her element here. Oh well, here ya go.’ She sets down their food as steam comes off the tops, the heat radiating from them.
Arthur and Harry both cut into the centers and big clouds of steam rise into the air, making Arthur’s mouth water. He just realized how hungry her was. He hadn’t really had a proper meal over the past week.
Arthur and Harry eat in silence, both of them replaying Grace Allin’s visit over in their heads. Arthur trying to make a legal case for it, Harry trying to make the case to Arthur that they shouldn’t dismiss it, but knows better than to try to talk Arthur into anything when he hasn’t eaten.
The pies were savory and filling, enough to fill a person up. Arthur started to feel the weight of his food on his eyelids and started to get his money out.
‘No, I got it,’ says Harry.
‘You never pay,’ Arthur teases.
‘Well, I do today.’ Harry not taking the bait of his joke.
‘Alright old friend. I’ll see you later.’ Arthur tips his hat to Harry, but Harry looks away still displeased with the meeting and maybe even pouting a bit, thinks Arthur. Oh, well. They’ll be fine. He turns towards the door and heads back to his apartment. A nap on a fine day like today seems like a waste, but it also seems like the best way to reset his mind and body and begin to tackle what’s next for him.
-
Arthur wakes up to a bright room just a couple hours later. The air feels good and the breeze from the window is a welcome one. The nap is just what he needed to get his mind right. He rolls over to the side of the bed and sits up, looking around his small space. His apartment is modest for a lawyer (or former lawyer), but he never really needed much. He wanted to live modestly while single and save, instead of gallivanting around town like some of his peers. He admired the men before him who kept to their work and allowed that to dictate the rest. Of course his mother worried he would never marry, but he’s still young, there is time for all of that.
The small apartment today feels smaller than usual. While Arthur took his laundry, he did nothing for the incidentals of his week spent over the barrel. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, feeling his freshly shaven neck and remembering the shave he got earlier today. He put his hand on his face, feeling the bit of stubble already forming. Reaching by his sides, he pulled the suspenders up over his shoulders of his shirtless torso and began to walk around his apartment organizing books and papers his inebriated self had opened in a haze of drunken brilliance only appreciated by other drunks. He saw that he even took some notes on his ‘findings.’ A few things about an apple orchard he remembers a bit from a day laborer he met. And then something scribbled that looked like it said Iris Arrow. But he didn’t know what that meant. All drunk rumblings he took down. He found a bin and began putting bits of food sitting out, the scribbles on the paper, all evidence of his week needed to be purged, so he could begin again as fresh as he feels in the moment.
Once his apartment was picked up, he even went so far to make the bed and sweep the floor. He sat down at the table he also used as a desk, got a pen and some paper and began to make a list of all the possible offices he has a positive relationship with and any that he may not have a relationship with directly, but he felt he could approach. Tomorrow, he will begin to write letters and look for his next placement.
