You may walk through the leading thoroughfares of the West-end or the tenantless streets of the City at any hour of the night, and meet with a score of policemen, but on a tour of the same distance in the suburbs where all or most of the burglaries are perpetrated, it frequently happens that not a single guardian of the peace is to be met with. There is evidently need for alteration here.
But none of Peace’s imitators, or rather those who strove to carry on their nefarious practices after his fashion, ever succeeded in reaching the same acme of perfection, if it can with propriety be so termed, in any degree comparable to our hero.
Peace had been leading a sort of cat and dog life for some time past with his two female companions in the Evalina-road. He knew perfectly well that he was like a man who is at the top of a dangerous precipice; the slightest mishap, one false step, would precipitate him into the dark chasm in which sooner or later he was to be plunged.
He, therefore, strove as best he could to keep a tight hand over the woman he most dreaded. He did not care what amount of money he expended in ministering to her wants, with this proviso, that she was to remain in doors. So Mrs. Thompson had her “drops” at home.
She had a weakness for strong drinks, and was an inordinate snuff taker, and, according to Peace’s own account, she cost him a pretty penny.
His weakness in respect to women is perhaps the most remarkable feature in his character.
After ruthlessly slaying the ill-fated Mr. Dyson, which crime he perpetrated not for gain, for it was clearly established that the unfortunate gentleman met with his death from the hands of his murderer simply because the latter had a sort of mad infatuation for his (Mr. Dyson’s) wife.
And, stranger still, immediately after the commission of the foul deed, he took up with another woman, whom he afterwards had good reason to be in dread of.
Nevertheless, despite all these circumstances, he perseveringly and persistently followed his nefarious calling, even while the sword of justice was almost hanging over his head.
He had at this time perpetrated two murders. He had sent Police-constable Cock, of Whalley Range notoriety, and Mr. Dyson, to their account; and yet he professed to be a moral man in his new home in the Evalina-road.