Mr Briggs' Hat: The True Story Of A Victorian Railway Murder - Plot & Excerpts
For more than a thousand years a gaol had stood on the site of the City’s westernmost gate, a mere ten minutes’ walk from the Bank of England and St Paul’s Cathedral. It was a monstrous building designed to call forth horror, its scowling bulk, pitted granite flanks and chilling, iron-spiked walls emphasising the inevitability of punishment for crime.The schoolboy Charles Dickens had gazed at this exterior with mingled feelings of awe and respect, noting how dreadful its rough, heavy walls and low massive doors appeared … looking as if they were made for the express purpose of letting people in and never letting them out again. This building had been one of the landmarks in the narrow radius of Müller’s former London life but the familiar was made strange by his arrest. He could hear the resounding boom of St Paul’s bells. His friends still toiled in nearby Threadneedle Street amid the human din and harsh rattle of hooves and wheels. They moved, anonymous in the feverish crowd of clerks, lawyers, vagrants, day-workers and prostitutes, passing from grand buildings to mean dwellings in squalid courts, while he followed only the orders of his captors.Rain had turned the cold streets pewter.
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