“A nobleman two weeks ago on a Thursday in DobbinsLane. He was simply walking home, and you grabbed him and then attempted to rob him,” the constable said.
“Oh dear.” The words came from Miss Downing, which made Mungo look at her. She was now pale as his morning porridge.
“What is amiss, lass?”
Her eyes went to his and widened further. “It was you,” she whispered.
“Me what?”
But before she could answer, the constable spoke again. “You’ll come with us now, sir, to the watchhouse.”
“Go to 11 Crabbett Close, Miss Downing. They will look after you,” Mungo said.
“Sir—”
“Mavis, take Miss Downing and inform Bram at once what has happened,” Mr. Greedy said, cutting her off.
“Mungo, you’ll go with these foolish men who don’t know a good man when he’s before them. There’s nothing for it but to do that. Help will arrive shortly. Nothing silly now, Mungo,” Mr. Greedy cautioned him as Mavis ran off down the road at a speed with Miss Downing on her heels. “We’ll have you home by nightfall.”
He glimpsed a slender ankle covered in serviceable wool as Miss Downing’s skirts flicked up before returning his eyes to the constable before him.
“Be warned, he has the backing of some powerful men, so you’ll not want to harm a single red hair on his head,” Mr. Peeky added.
It humbled Mungo that these two elderly gentlemen would stand up for him. But then, this was Crabbett Close. He doubted there was another street like it in London.
“I’ll be all right. You both go back inside now.”
“He’s a criminal and will be dealt with as such,” theconstable said, not intimidated by the show of loyalty by the men.
“What’s your name?” Mungo demanded.
“Constable Clutterbuck.”
“A right mouthful,” Mr. Peeky said.
“You watch your mouth!”
“That will do, thank you, gentlemen,” Mungo said before they all ended up inside the carriage too.
Constable Clutterbuck glared as he produced a set of cuffs.
This had to be that man’s doing. There was no one else who had reason to have him arrested. Who was he that he could get Mungo arrested when he’d been the one at fault?
“They’re putting him in chains!”
“It’s all right now, Miss Alvin,” Mungo said as he turned to watch her hurry out her front door. “You go on back inside,” he added as the cold iron snapped around his wrists.
She didn’t do as he asked and instead tucked something into his pocket, which he thought was likely food.
Clemmie Acton appeared next, stomping right up to Constable Clutterbuck and jabbing a finger in his face. “Our Mungo is a good man. What’s the meaning of this?”
Mungo bit back a sigh.
“Back away. I’m here on official business, and this here is a criminal.”
“Criminal, is it?” Mr. Douglas snapped. A crowd of locals was now forming. “I think not. This man is not capable of something criminal. He’s good and kind. Why, just yesterday, he helped my grandson locate the shoe Chester had taken to the park!”
“I don’t care about no bleeding shoe!” Constable Clutterbuck was getting angry now.
