The Cockney Angel (47 page)

It was almost pitch dark in the yard and she had to pick her way carefully between empty barrels and crates of bottles until she reached the rear entrance. The door was locked and she had no option but to make her way down the iron stairs to the basement, where she discovered a window that had been left open. Lifting the sash, she climbed into what turned out to be the pantry, and she landed on a marble slab narrowly missing an uncooked
joint
of beef and a large bowl of eggs. She opened the door and found herself in a part of the house with which she was unfamiliar. There was a dim light at the end of the corridor and she crept towards it.

She had quite expected to find the establishment in an uproar with a pitched battle going on, but everything seemed completely normal. She crept past the kitchen and the servants’ hall, where she could hear the clatter of crockery and the subdued chatter of female voices, and she made for the back stairs. She opened the baize door and peered out into the gaslit passage. She could hear a woman singing a bawdy music hall song at the top of her voice, almost drowning out her accompanist on the pianoforte. Irene recognised the tune even though she could not hear the words. Gales of female laughter punctuated the performance, competing with the richer baritone babble of men’s voices emanating from the gaming room.

Irene stopped outside the parlour and leaned against the wall. Her legs were shaking from sheer relief, or was it disappointment? If the Sykes brothers had decided to ignore her challenge then all her efforts had been in vain. She wondered if Edward was waiting outside with his men, and her heart sank at the thought of having led him on a wild goose chase.
He
would not get his promotion based on yet another failed attempt to break up the most notorious gang in the East End. Despite the relative warmth of the May evening, she was chilled to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. She knew that there would be a fire lit in the parlour, as Jim was in the habit of having a late supper after the punters had departed, and she was certain to find it deserted at this time in the evening.

The room was in darkness except for the glow of the burning coals, but she realised too late that it was crowded with dark human forms. The thought flashed through her mind that it was the police, but she realised her mistake when someone seized her from behind, clamping a none-too-clean hand over her mouth. She struggled and kicked in a vain attempt to free herself.

‘Let him go. He’s just a tiddler.’

She would have known that voice anywhere, and as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light she saw to her dismay that the room was packed with rough-looking men armed with cudgels. The stench of male sweat and unwashed bodies made her feel physically sick and she tasted blood on her lip as the hand was removed from her mouth. Her assailant gave her a shove that sent her cannoning into Vic Sykes, whose gravelly voice she had
recognised
ordering her release. She righted herself with a nervous twitch of her shoulders and faced up to him. ‘What’s going on, Vic?’ she demanded, assuming the attitude of a bold young fellow who was too stupid to be afraid of the Sykes brothers.

‘Vic, is it? Cheeky young bugger!’ He grabbed her by the collar and put his face so close to hers that his stinking breath almost asphyxiated her. ‘I ain’t got the time now, but you need a lesson in respect for your elders.’

‘Hey, I knows him.’ Wally held a lighted spill close to Irene’s face. ‘It’s young Jim Angel, the lad who come looking for work at our place. It’s Billy’s boy.’

Irene wriggled free as Vic loosened his grasp. ‘That’s right. I’m Billy Angel’s son. I’m one of you.’

Vic angled his head, glaring suspiciously at her. ‘I thought as how you said that Jim Angel owned this drum, Wally. This young sprat ain’t old enough to let go of his ma’s apron strings, let alone run a gaming house.’

Irene stuffed her hands in her pockets in an attempt to look cocky, but inwardly she was quaking. ‘It’s me brother Jem what’s in charge, not me. He’s only recently returned from years at sea, but I’m the one what does all the work. I’m the real boss round here.’ She gave Vic back stare for stare and was satisfied by the
shout
of laughter that greeted her outrageous claim. ‘I am too,’ she added. ‘I’m on your side, mates.’

Vic seized her by the scruff of her neck and shook her like a terrier with a rat. ‘Prove it then, cully.’

‘I will if you’ll just stop throttling me,’ Irene said, fisting her hands.

Wally pushed his brother aside. ‘Let him go, Vic. He’s just a sprat. Let’s get on with the business.’

‘Wally’s right. We’re wasting time.’ A voice from the back of the room was greeted with murmurs of assent from the others.

‘I’ll tell you when it’s time to act,’ Vic snarled. ‘Keep the noise down or we’ll be rumbled. I’m not moving a step until that hoity-toity bitch I paid to smuggle us in shows her face in here. I’ll wipe the smug smile off her phizog.’

Wally took a gold watch from his pocket and peered at it squint-eyed. ‘Time’s going on, mate. You shouldn’t have put your trust in that dollymop.’

‘She knows what she’ll get from me if she don’t bring Miss Irene Angel to this room. If we’ve got her hostage the coppers will keep their distance.’ Vic turned to the man behind him. ‘Blackie, go upstairs and see if you can find them. Bring ’em straight here.’

‘She ain’t here, Vic,’ Irene said hastily.
‘Me
sister’s gone visiting Ma and Emmie. She’s spending the night with ’em.’

‘There, what did I tell you?’ Wally demanded, rounding on his brother. ‘I said it were a stupid move. Let’s do what we come for and get out of here before the johndarms turn up.’

Irene tugged at Vic’s sleeve. ‘Come now, mister. There ain’t no need to bust the place up. We’re all mates here. Why don’t you have a quiet word with me brother? I’m sure you could come to a friendly arrangement with him. He’s a reasonable cove. Let me go and get him for you.’ She edged away from Vic only to find her exit was barred.

‘You stay where you are, nipper,’ Wally said, grabbing her by the collar. ‘We’re wasting time, Vic. Let’s get in there and do what we come to do. There should be a big pot of money on the tables by now, and I feel like a set-to.’

‘Aye, we’ve hung about long enough. If we can’t get hold of Miss Irene, we’ll take the tiddler. Hang on to him, Wally.’

Irene yelped as Wally twisted her arm behind her back and he shoved her into the hall. She was marched along the corridor towards the gaming room with Vic following close behind and the gang shuffling along at the rear. As they passed the ladies’ salon the door opened and Fiery Nan stuck her head
out
. Her painted features contorted with fear when she saw the gang, and she disappeared back into the room, slamming the door. Irene heard muffled cries of alarm from inside, but she was powerless to do anything as she was swept along like the figurehead on the prow of a ship.

Wally kicked the door open and the gang burst into the crowded gaming room. There was a moment’s silence as heads turned, but to Irene’s surprise the punters remained seated. She was too terrified to think much of it as all her attention was fixed on Jim, who was about to deal a hand of cards. He stood up slowly. She saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes as they rested momentarily on her, but his bland expression did not change. ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ he said calmly. ‘Have you come to try your luck at the tables?’

Vic dragged Irene from his brother’s grasp and held her in front of him like a shield. ‘Raise a finger, mate, and I’ll snap the boy’s head right off.’

‘I have no brother,’ Jim said dismissively. ‘I’ve never seen that boy before in my life.’

‘You’re lying.’ Vic twisted Irene’s arm until she cried out with pain. ‘I’m calling your bluff, mate. Go to it, boys.’

The gang rushed forward, led by Wally, but as he attempted to tip over a table the occupants
rose
to their feet, shedding their frock coats to reveal police uniforms. Irene was thrust aside so roughly that she stumbled and almost lost her balance, but by some miracle she managed to evade the flailing fists and cudgels and she edged her way to the back of the room. It was only then that she spotted Edward, who leapt to Jim’s defence as Wally launched a ferocious assault. Edward dragged him off and tossed him aside as if he had been a rag doll. In her wildest dreams Irene could never have imagined that quietly spoken, serious-minded Edward might have a physical advantage over anyone as tough as Wally Sykes. But to her astonishment, Wally had been felled and Vic was now at the receiving end of Edward’s vicious right hook. He went down like a skittle and was immediately handcuffed. Jim had two of the gang by their collars, and he banged their heads together. They fell to their knees at his feet. He wiped his hands, exchanging exultant grins with Edward.

Irene stared at them both in amazement. They were actually enjoying the fight! Men, she decided, were just overgrown schoolboys. She stepped aside as Constable Burton staggered her way having received a cudgel blow to the head. His assailant was about to hit him again, but Irene picked up a tray and smashed it down on the man’s skull. He eyed her in
shock
and then his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

‘Well done, boy,’ Burton said, rubbing his sore head. He turned away and then looked back, staring hard at Irene. ‘Miss Angel?’

Irene smiled at his astonished expression. ‘Yes, it’s me, Constable. It’s very shocking, isn’t it?’

‘We could do with a few ladies like you in the force, miss,’ Burton said, grinning up at her as he handcuffed the unconscious man.

‘One day, Constable,’ Irene murmured, dodging a flying chair. ‘There might even be some high-ranking female police officers in years to come.’

Burton chuckled. ‘Oh, yes. Very likely, I’m sure.’

Irene did not stop to argue the point. She picked her way over prostrate bodies to where Jim and Edward had the Sykes brothers safely restrained. By this time the fight had gone out of the gang and they were similarly cuffed and sitting back to back on the floor.

Irene took off her peaked cap and allowed her hair to tumble about her shoulders. She had the satisfaction of seeing a look of recognition dawn on Vic’s bruised and bloodied face. ‘Bitch,’ he said, spitting blood onto the floor. ‘So it was you all the while.’

‘That’s right, Vic. You didn’t know what you
were
taking on when you got on the wrong side of the Angels.’

‘It worked, Renie,’ Jim admitted reluctantly. ‘Although I thought I told you to keep out of the way.’ He eyed her up and down, frowning. ‘Are those my old clothes?’

‘What does it matter?’ she demanded, meeting his disapproving stare with a challenging look. ‘They’ve been very useful.’

‘It isn’t seemly,’ Jim said, shaking his head. ‘Respectable young ladies don’t roam the streets in breeches.’

Edward slipped his arm around Irene’s waist. ‘Leave her alone. Your sister is the bravest woman I’ve ever met.’

‘She should have stayed at home with Ma and Emmie.’

‘And you might have told me that half the City of London Police force would be here disguised as punters,’ Irene countered.

‘We didn’t want you to be involved in any way,’ Jim said with a rueful smile. ‘But I ought to have known you wouldn’t do as you were told.’

‘Your brother has a point,’ Edward said softly. ‘This escapade could have cost you your life.’

‘I had to do something,’ Irene murmured rebelliously. ‘I’m not the sort who can sit at home doing nothing while the men I love are in danger.’

His eyes warmed with a tender smile. ‘I hope I’m one of those fortunate men, Irene.’

‘No, I was speaking of Constable Burton.’ She stifled a giggle. ‘Of course I meant you.’

‘She needs a good thrashing,’ Wally muttered through swollen lips. ‘Billy should have disciplined that little trull years ago.’

Edward rounded on him with an ominous scowl. ‘That’s enough of that. You’ll be up before the magistrate in the morning, Sykes. Save your breath for your own defence.’

‘We’ll get off,’ Vic sneered. ‘We’ve got a mouthpiece what will have us free in no time.’ He glared at Irene through the one eye that was not bruised and half closed. ‘And you’d best look out then, missy.’

‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ Edward said, beckoning to a burly officer. ‘This time you and your brother can expect a hefty sentence. You will be old men before they let you out. Take them away, sergeant.’

Irene watched the Sykes brothers being marched out of the room, but she couldn’t hide her misgivings. She squeezed Edward’s hand. ‘Do you think they could be persuaded to clear Pa’s name?’

He shook his head. ‘I doubt it, but even if they don’t the others will say anything if they think it will shorten their sentences.’

Irene glanced round at the debris that had
once
been chairs and tables. Cards, dice and gaming tokens were scattered all over the floor amongst shards of broken glass and pools of sticky blood. Outside in the hall she could hear the women’s shrill voices shouting insults as the Sykes brothers and their gang were dragged from the building. Irene reached up to kiss Edward on the small patch of cheek that was not turning blue-black with bruises. ‘I suppose there’s no use asking you to stay awhile so that I can patch you up?’

‘None at all, I’m afraid, my love. I must get back to the station to see that all the paperwork is done correctly and the prisoners are secured for the night.’

Jim slapped him on the shoulder. ‘I take back everything I ever said or thought about the police, Ed old chap. I can’t think of a better fellow to have as a brother-in-law.’

Irene felt the blood rush to her face and she scowled at her brother. ‘Shut up, Jim.’

‘It’s not official yet,’ Edward said, smiling. ‘I haven’t had an opportunity to ask your father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. I always do things properly.’

Irene turned away to hide her blushes. ‘Look at this mess. It will take a small army to clean it up and we will need new furniture.’

‘We’ll charge it to the Sykes brothers,’ Jim said cheerfully. ‘I’m sure the police will find a
fortune
stashed away in Blue Boar Court. Anyway, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone while I go and reassure the ladies that all is well. With these cuts and bruises I should be hailed as a hero and they will fall before my feet.’ He made his way towards the door, stepping over the scattered debris.