Accused

The Crown and The Lion

The little Inn, nestled in the countryside of Surrey, was called the Crown and the Lion. It was named after his Majesty the king and the general bravery of all that worthy monarch's subjects. The general men who frequented that establishment were an interesting example of this well-known English courage amongst the lower classes. They always sang lustily, (mostly when quenching their thirst) toasted each other and their king often, and took to heart the general saying, "eat, drink, and be merry," chiefly the drink aspect of it; although the other parts were nice too. The inn itself was a low-ceilinged establishment, with great timbers holding it up, and a cozy air which was not diminished by the working people.

Edwin took all of this in as he stepped into the room, the collar of his coat turned up and his cap pulled low over his forehead, the brim shading his face. This attitude was not an unusual one, it being cold outside, so he attracted little attention. He went over to the eating part of the inn and sat down in front of the bar.

"'Ere, gov'ner," Edwin said, adopting a rough manner of speech, "give a poor trav'ler a drink will ya?"

"What's yer poison?"

"Whiskey."

The skinny, ferret-like bartender, slid the drink down the counter. Edwin set down some money Elsie had given him. As the man snatched it up, his customer took a gold coin out of his pocket and played with it, so that the sides caught the dim light. The man's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"That's a sovereign! I thought they stopped makin' those in the Great War!"

"They did."

Edwin looked intently at the man. "Listen, I need some information."

The bartender's eyes turned shifty, but the sight of the large coin seemed to keep him in check. "What d' ya want?"

"A coat an 'at were stolen 'ere a few days back. They was both black, and they was almost new."

At the mention of stealing, the man went pale.
Edwin was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, I ain't no bobby; I just want information concerning the bloke what did it. There'll be no trouble fer 'im, I just need t' know where they went."

After some hesitation, the bartender said quickly, lowering his voice, "I knows the exact person you're tryin' t' find. He's over there; by the winder."

He pointed discretely to where a tough-looking old man, with a scar over one eye, sat alone in a corner, nursing a pint of beer. "That's Bill, he's a reg'lar. He was braggin' that he had stolen some gent's coat, although the guy didn't look much like a gentleman t' me; rather scruffy like." He looked at his customer more closely. "Have we met somewheres before?"

"No, I don't believe so."

The coin made a small clatter as it landed on the table. Edwin left the bar without touching his drink and slouched over to the man in the corner. "This seat taken?"

Without waiting for an answer, he sat down across from the old man, who gave him a sour look.

"Whaddaya want?"

"I want you to tell me where my tie is."

Edwin took off his hat as he said this, and Bill's ruddy face turned grey.

"You!"

"Yes, remember me? I am the gent who you stole the clothes from. I don't want trouble. You can keep the coat and hat; I have no use for them. I need to know where the tie you stole is."

The man had composed himself by this time and sat with one eyebrow raised in sullen defiance. "What are y' gonna do if I don't tell ya?"

"Nothing, but I can make it worth your while to comply with my little whim."