Children of the Tide Read Online Free

don’t you tell me a story? You tell stories to each other, don’t you?”
    A few of the girls blushed and responded in the affirmative.
    â€œBlest, sir,” the girl said excitedly. Endersby saw spirit in her; he looked at the other girls who held their eyes on her as if they were her acolytes. All stories have a beginning so the inspector asked her to begin. The girl swept her eyes around the circle of her ward sisters. She began with ghosts and goblins. “Ah, wondrous,” Endersby said. Then he prompted her to tell a true story. “Go back in time,” he suggested. “Imagine yourself in the dark last night, in this very room.” The others began to shuffle. One child coughed. The girl began. “Last night, oh, last night.” Endersby sat forward. The girl told of a dark figure moving down the beds holding a candle and whispering.
    â€œIndeed,” replied the inspector. “Why do you think he went about so?”
    â€œNothin’, sir … only wos ’ere to look … passed close by me, he did.”
    â€œDid you see his face, by chance?”
    â€œI dustn’t ’cause he was stinking so.” The others giggled. The girl blushed and pulled nervously at her sleeve. Endersby gave her a nod as if to say, “good work,” and the child came close again, cupping her chilly hand around Endersby’s ear.
    â€œAh,” replied Endersby, exaggerating his astonishment at her whispered words. “Are you certain?” The girl pressed closer.
    â€œA broken limb, you say. A limp,” said Endersby.
    The girl stepped back, proudly smiling. “Well done,” Endersby said.
    Endersby waited a little longer, gazing in the faces of those around him. No other child stepped forward. Catching a nod from Matron Agnes at the door, he told the girls their porridge was waiting, to which announcement they shouted like a horde of fun-seekers at a seaside fair and dashed off to the eating hall. Pushing through the rush came Sergeant Caldwell, his notebook held in his right hand. Endersby stood up from the bed where he had relaxed his painful foot. Yet another gouty pang made him consider the details he had just heard.
    â€œSir,” said the sergeant next, “best, I reckon, if you walk around with me to see what I have seen.”
    â€œâ€¦More things in heaven and earth?” quipped Endersby.
    â€œSir?”
    â€œMr. Hamlet, Sergeant. He has been stuck in my mind these last few days. At Covent Garden Theatre this past Friday I had the delight to see Mr. Macready play the lead role. Walk on. Let us see together. A few details were gained from talking to the little girls. One said she saw a limping man looking at the faces of the children.”
    â€œAnd yet, sir, the child was left behind.”
    â€œThe wrong child, may we surmise?”

Chapter Three
    Clues in the Coal
    C aldwell led his superior down two staircases, through a kitchen, and into a cramped room containing the blackened coal chute. Thomas knew the case was already causing the inspector doubts. He knew Endersby’s gout would soon slow him down as much as his own toothache was draining his energy.
    Standing in the doorway of the coal room, Endersby gazed first at the space, his way of pondering and examining a room before drawing a conclusion.
    â€œEnter carefully, sir,” Caldwell cautioned, holding up a lit candle. “Stay to the right, sir. I shall explain.”
    â€œI see it has been left open. This bottom flap,” Endersby said at the coal chute. He poked his head up the chute, which came down from the yard at a steep slant. The chute was mussed. Caldwell imagined a body had slid down it, kicked open the bottom flap and landed on the floor. The usual coal pile from a delivery had already been cleared into bins and into smaller buckets for haulage up to various hearths. Endersby noted immediately even a light brush of an elbow procured a sooty, oily