Chapter Text
Sweeney was never one to look back on his regrets. He tries not to have regrets. He thinks regrets are stupid, but here he is. Regretting killing Pirelli and agreeing to Mrs. Lovetts crazy ideas.
He is also regretting getting sent to jail.
It wasn’t his fault, he knows that. He had to get a new identity and make a different personality for himself so he wouldn’t be caught after he escaped. He didn’t want to become a different person, he had no choice. Anyone who finds out deserves to die.
He remembers the day he got accused. How could he not. It was a horrible day. It’s still vivid in his mind and he doubts he’ll ever get over it.
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“Benjamin Barker?” A man’s voice called.
Barker had been cleaning his shop. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Beadle Bamford.” The man, the Beadle said as he walked into Barkers shop. “I have been sent to give this to you directly.” The Beadle pulled a letter out of his coat pocket, handing it to Barker.
The barber took the letter, he suddenly got much more nervous realizing this was serious. Barker opened the letter, hands shaking.
The letter was formal. Clearly hand written by Judge Turpin himself. The letter read:
Dear Benjamin Barker,
It has come to my attention that you have committed a crime so evil, so despicable, so disgusting that it goes against all that God had planned for you. You are a disgraceful criminal. Deflowering a pure woman who had not the mind to say ‘no’. You should know that I could have you sentenced to hanging. However I believe that would be too cruel. I wish to see you in my court on May seventh at ten thirty in the morning. If you refuse to show, I shall find you.
Sincerely,
Judge Turpin.
Barker stared at the letter for several minutes. This was a false accusation. He had never touched any woman who had not consented.
Judge Turpin had always been a looker when it came to Barkers wife. The judge was also corrupt, that was common knowledge. However Barker never thought he’d go this far.
“This is a lie.” Barker said, mainly to himself.
The Beadle turned around, beginning to walk out of the room. “Tell that to Judge Turpin.”
With that, the Beadle went downstairs to give Lucy a letter of her own. An invitation to a party the night of May seventh.
Barker sat on the chest, staring at the letter. He cannot fathom how the judge could go this far. It’s immoral to falsely accuse a man for your own sick pleasure.
Judge Turpin doesn’t care how immoral he is, Barker knows that. He could kill 100 people and feel no remorse. That’s just who he is. It’s devastating, but that’s why people fear him. He feels no guilt for the people he sentences to death.
Barker slept horribly on the nights leading up to May seventh. How could he sleep well, he was about to get sent to jail.
On the morning of his conviction, Barker woke up early, six in the morning to be exact. He ate a good breakfast, walked around London, talked to some people, and ultimately ended up in his barber shop with Daniel.
“I’m going to be arrested today Danny.” Barker said, he was miserable and tired.
“I know.” Daniel said, trying to comfort Barker. “The judge can’t be reasoned with unfortunately. Believe me, I tried.”
“Im sure you did. There’s nothing I can do, I know why he’s doing this, he wants my wife and my daughter. He needs me out of the way in order to get to them.” Barker was angry, you could hear it in his voice.
“I know you’re mad but try not to lash out on the man.” Daniel sighed. “That will only make it worse.”
“I know.” Barker looked out the window.
They sat in silence until it was time for Barker to go. He made himself look more presentable before leaving the shop and going to the courthouse.
“Please sit Mr. Barker.” Judge Turpin said.
Barker did as Judge Turpin said and sat on the chair in the courtroom.
“You were brought before this court today under your crime of rape. This is a horrible crime Mr. Barker. You must know that.” The judge said.
“That’s not true.” Barker said.
“Silence!” Judge Turpin yelled. “Unless you have no evidence other than saying you didn’t do it then I think I have reason to believe you are guilty, sir.”
“This is immoral, your honor.” Barker argued, he would fight for the rest of his life if it meant not getting sent to jail.
“It is not immoral. You, sir, are guilty.” Judge Turpin said. “I sentence you to 20 years in Sydney.”
Barker yelled and fought as he was dragged away. He was held in a cell for several days before he was being boarded onto a boat with several other convicts. He was hungry, tired, and dirty. He would have to get used to those feelings.