Authors: Dilly Court
Irene’s new gown arrived from the dressmaker’s just an hour before the doors were due to open on Saturday evening. Mrs Garnet had reluctantly agreed to allow Flossie to act as lady’s maid for the occasion, and she made a creditable attempt at arranging Irene’s hair in elaborate coiffure. When Flossie had completed her task, she stared at her reflection in the mirror
and
was quite taken aback to see the elegant young woman gazing back at her as if she could not believe her eyes.
‘You look lovely, miss,’ Flossie murmured with a misty-eyed smile. ‘A proper lady.’
‘It’s a miracle,’ Irene replied, tossing her head so that her new gold earrings, a present from Jim, glinted in the candlelight. She rose to her feet, doing a twirl in front of the mirror. The swish of starched petticoats and the rustle of crimson silk-taffeta sent a thrill running down her spine. ‘It’s such a fine gown, but do you think the neckline is too low, Flossie? I’ve never seen such a lot of my own bosom unless I was taking a bath.’
‘It’s what the ladies up West wear, miss. I seen pictures of them in magazines. They got no shame, them rich women. They ain’t afeared to flash their titties in company, so I don’t see why you should be.’
Irene hitched her bodice up a little higher. ‘You’re right, Flossie. If it’s good enough for the wives of the gentry, it’s good enough for me.’ She picked up the fan she had purchased that morning from a pawnshop on the corner of Leather Lane and she looped it round her wrist. ‘Wish me luck. Tonight is going to be very important.’
‘Of course, miss.’ Flossie hurried to open the door for her. ‘I’m sure everything will go well.
The
master has worked so hard to make it right.’
Irene went slowly down the stairs, praying silently that she had not ruined things for Jim. Despite her hatred for everything to do with gambling, she could not wish to see her brother’s business venture fail, but she was not going to allow personal feelings to deflect her from her plan to outwit the Sykes gang. Much depended on their success tonight; they must do well enough to convince Vic and Wally that Jim’s club was a threat to their autonomy. She doubted whether any of Josiah’s stiff-necked acquaintances would deign to come, and she could only hope that Pa’s old friends would not let her down. She was descending the last flight to the entrance hall when she heard the door open and the sound of high-pitched female voices and laughter. She hurried round the curve in the staircase, only to find that Jim had forestalled her. Looking resplendent in his evening attire, he prepared to receive their first guests. Irene would have rushed down to join him, but she recognised Fiery Nan’s voice and she hesitated. Things could go badly wrong if the girls had not followed her instructions to dress and behave like ladies. She held her breath.
Annie was the first to come through the door and Irene was relieved to see that she had taken
pains
with her appearance. Gentle Annie might not look like a soberly attired merchant’s wife, but at least she was clean and tidy and her gown was not overly garish. Moreover she was clinging to the arm of a gentleman wearing a top hat and evening cloak. Irene recognised him as Tim the Toff, one of the stalwarts of the gaming scene, and an old friend of her father’s. Tim was the youngest son of a titled and extremely wealthy family, but he was notorious for frittering away his allowance on gambling and loose women, although Jim would be blissfully unaware of this fact. Irene stifled the urge to run down the stairs and give Tim a hug. He might be a roué but he knew how to behave and he would not give Jim any cause for alarm or suspicion.
She began to breathe a little easier as Fiery Nan entered with her hand linked in the arm of a slightly less fashionable but tidily dressed middle-aged man, closely followed by Ivy and several others, who had all done their best to look the part but would be unlikely to withstand close scrutiny. Irene ran downstairs to hurry the women into the salon before Jim had a chance to exchange more than a few words with them. So far so good, she thought, painting a bright smile on her face. ‘Welcome, ladies. I hope you will have a thoroughly enjoyable evening.’
Ivy threw herself down on the nearest chair. ‘Give us the free gin, Renie, and we’ll guarantee to have a fine old time.’
‘Of course, but go easy on the booze,’ Irene warned. ‘And mind your manners in front of the other guests. No swearing, belching or farting. Remember this is a high-class establishment.’
This last remark was greeted with gales of laughter and Irene felt more than a little apprehensive as she poured their drinks. She could only hope and pray that she had done the right thing, but even as she handed out the last glass her attention was diverted by the salon doors being flung open to admit a group of middle-aged matrons. They paused on the threshold, eyeing the noisy occupants of the room with expressions ranging from curiosity to downright disapproval. Irene sallied forth to greet them and she took pains to ensure that they were seated well away from Annie and her friends. She cajoled, flattered and teased the frosty ladies into reluctant smiles and she plied them with cakes and negus. Irene had surreptitiously added a generous shot of gin to the warm concoction of port and lemonade and very soon the genteel ladies were chattering as loudly as any of the dollymops and prostitutes.
As the evening progressed, the extra staff
Jim
had taken on for the evening were hard pressed to keep up with the demand for refreshments. In the convivial atmosphere of the salon, largely due to generous libations of gin, punch and doctored negus, it was hard to differentiate between the wives of respectable businessmen and the women of the streets. The air was redolent with the scent of port, lemon, spices, juniper berries and a heady mix of cheap and not so cheap perfume. The chorus of female voices rose to an even higher pitch as the consumption of alcohol increased. The noise was deafening and the fug in the room was almost unbearable. Irene slipped out of the salon into the comparative cool of the entrance hall just as the doorbell rang announcing a late arrival. There was no sign of the hall boy and Irene went to answer the urgent summons. She opened the door with a welcoming smile but it froze on her lips. ‘Inspector Kent!’
Slowly, staring at her with unconcealed admiration, he took off his top hat. ‘Miss Angel.’
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her heartbeat quickened. She tried not to appear too pleased to see him. ‘Is this a police raid, Inspector?’
‘As you can see, I came alone.’
‘Why are you here?’
He raised his eyebrows with a quizzical halfsmile. ‘Are you going to let me in, Miss Angel, or must I stand on the doorstep all night?’
Irene glanced nervously over his shoulder. She was certain that the Sykes brothers were having the place watched, and the last thing she wanted was for them to see her hobnobbing with the cops. She took a quick look up and down the dimly lit street. There did not seem to be anyone lurking in the shadows. ‘You’d better come in then,’ she said, standing aside to allow him to enter.
‘You and your brother are taking a huge risk,’ Kent said, closing the door behind him. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’
‘We are just trying to earn an honest living. Jim was granted a gaming licence. We aren’t doing anything illegal.’
With an exasperated sigh, Kent dropped his hat and gloves onto the hall boy’s chair and he seized her hands, gazing deeply into her eyes. ‘Don’t bandy words with me, Irene. I warned you before about the dangers of getting involved with the Sykes brothers. It seems you chose to ignore me, and I may not be able to protect you from them if you continue with this foolhardy enterprise.’
‘You’re hurting me, Inspector,’ Irene said, wincing as his grip tightened to emphasise his words.
He released her immediately, but his gaze did not waver. His eyes blazed with suppressed anger, but she was quick to recognise anxiety as well as frustration in his tense expression.
‘I’m sorry, but I need to make you see sense. You must not try to play the Sykes gang at their own game because if you do then you and your brother will certainly be the losers. I’ve seen the handbills and posters that you’ve plastered all round the city pubs and I know what you are doing. You want to antagonise them into overplaying their hand. I understand that you want justice for your father, but you are going the wrong way about it.’
She had a sudden urge to smooth away the lines of worry that creased his brow, but she withdrew her hands from his grasp and clenched them at her sides. ‘You want to smash the gang too,’ she said, hoping that she sounded calmer than she was feeling. ‘Why would you care what happens to Jim and me?’
He opened his mouth as if to reply and then he lowered his gaze, shaking his head. ‘I know what you think of me, and it is not flattering. You’ve made your feelings towards me quite plain, but I am begging you to stop this farce. You are endangering not only yourself but also my sister. If the Sykes brothers discover that you and she are friends she will be in mortal danger.’
‘I wouldn’t do anything to harm Alice,’ Irene cried passionately.
His expression softened and he acknowledged her sincerity with a slow smile. ‘I know that, Irene.’
She turned away from him, afraid that she might betray her feelings by a look or the tone of her voice. ‘Please tell her that I can’t come to the house for a while. Make some excuse but don’t frighten her or allow her to think that I don’t care. I wouldn’t want her to think badly of me.’
Kent took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘Alice will understand, but it’s not just for her that I’m concerned; it is for your own good that I’m begging you to stop this foolishness. Leave the Sykes gang to the police.’
She almost melted at his touch, but she was determined not to make a fool of herself and she met his searching gaze with a defiant lift of her chin. ‘And leave my pa to rot in jail for the next six years? No, that’s asking too much.’
‘I will do what I can for him when the time is right, but for now you must allow the law to follow its due course.’
‘Well it hasn’t done a very good job so far. The wrong man has gone to jail and the villains still terrorise the streets.’ Irene chose her words carefully. She must be as clinically detached
as
he appeared to be. Now was not the time to cloud her judgement with emotion. ‘I have nothing more to say, Inspector.’
He raised his hand as if about to plead with her and then lowered it, shaking his head. ‘I can see that I’m wasting my time, but if you don’t heed my words you could bring disaster on your family and mine.’
She moved swiftly to the street door and wrenched it open. ‘Goodnight, Inspector. Thank you for the warning, but I suggest that you would do better to take Alice to the safety of your father’s farm instead of keeping her caged up like a poor little canary in that dreary house.’
‘What do you know about my family?’
Irene winced at the harsh note in his voice, but she knew that at last she had pierced his armour-like shell. ‘I visited the farm when I was staying with Miss Greenwood at the Round House. I discovered that she is your stepmother’s sister, and I learned of the family feud that has kept them apart for years.’
‘Miss Greenwood is an embittered old spinster who disowned her sister when she married my father. She is nothing to Alice or me, and we mean less than that to her.’
‘Maybe, but did you ever give her a chance to help you, or even consider the possibility that a lonely, childless woman might welcome a sweet girl like Alice into her home? Was it
concern
for your sister or your own pride that made you uproot her and bring her to live in London where she has to rely on the kindness of neighbours?’
‘I think you’ve said quite enough.’ Kent snatched up his hat and gloves. ‘My family matters don’t concern you.’
‘Maybe not, but I care about Alice. Are you sure that you haven’t put her needs a poor second to your ambition?’
He strode past her, ramming his hat on his head as he negotiated the shallow stone steps. Pausing when he reached the pavement, he turned to give her a searing look. ‘Think about what I have said, Irene, and don’t antagonise the Sykes brothers any further. Leave police matters to those who are paid to protect innocent citizens.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Then I will have no alternative but to close your establishment down. It may take me a little time, but believe me I will do so unless you promise to stop playing this foolhardy and dangerous game.’
‘It’s no game, I assure you,’ Irene retorted angrily. ‘You have had plenty of time to sort the gangs out and you have failed. I just hope your men will be ready and waiting when Vic and Wally show their hand, as I’ve no doubt they will.’
‘I’ll have you watched day and night for your own safety, but my officers will have orders to arrest you on the spot if they catch you acting in a way which might provoke the Sykes brothers.’
‘If you lock me up you might lose your last chance of breaking up the gang. Consider that, Inspector Kent.’ She slammed the door in his face. She had had the last word, but it was a Pyrrhic victory.
Chapter Twenty-two
IRENE WAS A
great deal more upset by her confrontation with Kent than she had thought possible, and yet deep down she knew that beneath the cool air of officialdom his concern for her safety was genuine. In the dark hours of the night, she lay awake with his angry words repeating over and over again in her head. She was furious with herself for allowing this man to invade her thoughts and dreams, but she was even more determined to see the Sykes brothers brought to justice. No matter what Edward Kent said, she could not leave matters to the police. The plan which formulated slowly in her head was simple. She would wait until she heard that Pa’s appeal was coming up before the court, and then she would pay a call on Vic and Wally. She would flaunt the success of their gaming house under their noses. She had seen the way they worked and she was certain they would not be able to resist the challenge. They would come round mob-handed and they would be caught.