Authors: Dilly Court
She shook her head. ‘I’d rather stand.’
‘As you wish.’ He peeled off his peccary-leather gloves and laid them in his top hat while he shrugged off his heavy greatcoat and hung it on a coat stand in the corner of the room.
Irene clasped her hands tightly behind her back, watching this well-practised routine with
mounting
impatience. ‘Look, guv, all I want to know is what’s happened to Arthur. What have you done with him?’
‘Are we speaking of Arthur Greenwood?’ Kent went to stand by the fire, warming his hands.
His casual manner fuelled Irene’s resentment. ‘You ought to know. It was you who arrested an innocent man.’
‘You were both caught in an illegal gambling den.’
‘Then why wasn’t I arrested?’
‘You were doing nothing. He was playing the tables.’
‘Then you are holding him.’
‘Not now. I believe he spent the night in the cells but he was released this afternoon.’
‘Then where is he? What’s happened to him?’
‘No harm has come to your friend. Let’s just say that he is helping me with my enquiries.’
‘And what does that mean?’ He was so maddeningly calm that Irene could have shaken him.
‘It means that in return for receiving certain information, I am prepared to drop all charges.’
Suddenly, it all made sense. ‘You’ve set him to spy on the Sykes gang.’
‘He’s gathering information.’
‘Arthur is a boy,’ she protested. ‘He’s just a
boy
and the Sykes brothers will have him for breakfast.’
‘I think you underestimate your friend, Miss Angel.’
‘Don’t play games with me, Inspector Kent. Everyone round here knows what happens to a nark if the gang catches him, and it ain’t pretty. You’d have done better to lock Arthur up and throw away the key.’
‘I’m dealing with this personally, and I can assure you that Mr Greenwood will be kept under surveillance at all times. The best you can do for him is to act normally and say nothing of this to anyone, not even your own father – especially your father.’
‘Are you saying that my pa is in with the Sykes gang? Because if you are, then you’re wrong, Inspector. My pa may be a lot of things but he ain’t a gang member and never was.’
‘Then the information I receive from your friend will be crucial in clearing your father of any suspicion that we may have, and you can help in this, Miss Angel.’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Me? How?’
‘Since you already know so much, you could act as go-between. It would draw suspicion away from Mr Greenwood and help to clear your father’s name.’
‘Are you asking me to spy on me own flesh and blood?’
‘Not necessarily. If he’s innocent you will be doing him a great service. I’ve been trying to smash the Sykes gang for years, but so far they have evaded the law. I believe that you could be instrumental in obtaining evidence that would lead to their arrest and conviction.’
‘I told you before that my pa has nothing to do with the Sykes brothers, and Arthur don’t go anywhere near them. He’s just a silly boy who likes to gamble.’ The thought of spying on Pa was too horrible to contemplate. Irene shook her head vehemently. ‘No, I won’t do it. You’re asking too much.’
‘I know that your father frequents the gambling hell in Blue Boar Court. He has been followed there on many an occasion and even if he isn’t actually a member of the gang, he knows a great deal about them.’
‘Ask him yourself then. I don’t want nothing to do with this.’
She made for the door, but Kent moved swiftly to bar her way.
‘Don’t be afraid. I will do my utmost to protect your father, Miss Angel. Help me to crush the Sykes gang and you will make London a safer place in which to live.’
‘No. You’ve got the wrong girl, Inspector. I’d never peach on my Pa. Now let me go.’
He stepped aside. ‘You are free to leave if you wish, but I beg you to reconsider.’
‘There’s nothing to think about,’ Irene said, pushing past him. ‘I don’t want nothing to do with any of this, Inspector Kent. I’ve got nothing more to say to you – we’re on different sides, and always will be.’
Chapter Four
THE POLICE STATION
and its officers represented everything that she had been brought up to dislike and distrust and Irene could not get away fast enough. She did not stop running until she reached the corner of Cheapside and Wood Street, when a painful stitch caused her to lean against the rough trunk of the plane tree. Holding her side she gasped for breath, but without any warning she was seized from behind and a hand clamped over her mouth.
‘Renie, it’s me.’
At first she thought she was hearing things, but the hoarse whisper certainly sounded like Arthur’s voice and she froze.
‘That’s right, it’s me. I’m taking my hand away so for God’s sake don’t scream.’
She nodded her head and was immediately released. She spun round to face him angrily. ‘Arthur Greenwood, what d’you think you’re playing at? You scared me half to death.’
‘I’m sorry, Renie. I had to make sure you didn’t call out. For all I know, they might be following me.’
‘Who would be following you? I’ve just been down to the police station trying to find out what happened to you.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘You’ve got some explaining to do, my lad, and not just to me.’ Irene moved out of the shadows, taking a quick look around to make sure that no one was about, and satisfied that the street was empty except for a couple of hansom cabs which clattered past without stopping, she beckoned to Arthur. ‘Come into the shop. Ma’s gone to Emmie’s and Pa is out.’
Arthur hesitated. ‘Are you sure there’s no one spying on us?’
‘Quite sure, you big baby. Come along.’ Impatient now, Irene went round to the front of the shop and unlocked the door. She went inside and was about to light the gas mantle when Arthur scurried in after her. He closed the door, turning the key in the lock.
‘Don’t put the light on.’
‘For goodness sake, Artie. Stop acting so mysterious and tell me what’s going on.’
He slumped down on the chair, holding his head in his hands. ‘I’m in trouble, Renie. I’m not up to this sort of thing. A bet or two at the tables or the race course is one thing, but getting involved with the Sykes brothers is another matter.’
‘You’d better start from the beginning, Artie.
I’ve
heard half of it from Inspector Kent, but what exactly has that man forced you into?’
Haltingly at first, but gaining momentum as he related the events of the past twenty-four hours, he told her how he had been carted off in the Black Maria with the rest of the punters from Potter’s club. They had been kept in a cell for what seemed like hours before being taken out and interviewed one by one. It was then that Kent had offered him the choice of being charged with patronising an illegal gaming club, or being allowed to go free if he agreed to infiltrate the Sykes gang and spy on them.
‘I didn’t want my old man to find out about my gambling,’ Arthur said, running his fingers through his already tousled hair.
‘He was here earlier, and he wasn’t too pleased with you then. Gawd knows what he’ll say when you go home and tell him you spent the night in the police cells.’
‘He’ll kill me,’ Arthur said gloomily. ‘And if he don’t, the Sykes brothers will.’
‘I blame Kent for all this. He’s so puffed up with his own self-importance that he thinks he’s God.’
‘I suppose he was only doing his job, and he’s got a point. The Sykes brothers run this neighbourhood, and no one stands up to them.’
‘You can’t take them on single-handed. Kent
might
have promised you police protection but that’s not going to help if Vic and Wally discover that you’re a copper’s nark.’
‘You’re right, and I think I might have given myself away already,’ Arthur said, rising to his feet and going to the window to peer out into the street. ‘That’s why I came here and didn’t go straight home. I think I was followed, Renie. I went to Blue Boar Court, like Kent said, but he warned me not to play anything other than a game or two of billiards. I won a pocketful of money and then I saw Billy playing baccarat. He invited me to join them. I know I shouldn’t have, but the temptation was too great and at first I was winning …’ His voice trailed off miserably.
‘Oh, Artie. You blooming idiot.’
‘I know. I should have walked away, kept in the background and done what Kent told me, but I thought I was on a winning streak. Then I started losing, and I tried to get my money back, but I lost even more. I wrote one IOU, and then another. Then Wally turned up, and when he saw what was going on he threw me out. Told me I had to get the money right away or I’d end up at the bottom of the river. It wasn’t meant to happen that way, Renie. What shall I do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Irene said slowly. ‘What a mess.’
‘I was a fool, but it seemed too good a chance to miss. Now I’ve got Wally Sykes on my back as well as Kent.’
‘There’s only one thing for it, Artie. You’ll have to tell your father. He’ll pay up, I’m sure he will.’
‘You don’t know my dad. He’d sooner see me in prison than honour a gambling debt. He’s a puritan when it comes to games of chance and the like.’
‘Then you’ll have to go and tell Kent what happened.’
‘And end up in jail? I can’t, Renie. I’ll just have to leave the country.’
‘Running away won’t solve anything, and we’re not going to cower here in the dark like scared rabbits.’ Irene struck a vesta and lit a candle. ‘I’ll ask my pa what to do. Gawd knows he’s been in enough scrapes in his life and wriggled out of them. He’s well in with the Sykes brothers. Maybe they’ll listen to him and give you a second chance.’
‘I dunno, Renie. I don’t think Billy has much time for me either. He’d probably say I deserve all I’ll get.’
‘Pa’s not like that. You must stay here until he gets home, and then we’ll tell him everything and see what he has to say.’
A glimmer of hope flickered in Arthur’s eyes but then he shook his head. ‘I can’t stay here.
If
Wally didn’t have me followed then Kent almost certainly did. I’m a wanted man.’
‘Wanted or not, you’ll be safe here for tonight at least. I’m certain that Wally Sykes has bigger fish to fry than you, and Inspector Kent was probably bluffing. He was trying to scare you into doing his dirty work. He even tried to make me act as go-between.’
Arthur’s eyes widened. ‘No! Surely not?’
‘Oh, yes, he did. But I told him where to go. I ain’t playing his game. If he wants to make superintendent he’ll do it without my help – or yours. Now cheer up, cully. There’s a pie upstairs that needs eating before it grows legs and walks out of the shop. We’ll sit and wait for my pa to come home.’
She led the way upstairs and made Arthur sit on her parents’ bed while she rekindled the fire and hung the kettle on a hook over the flames. She cut the pie into three portions, and, saving one piece for her father, she gave a slice to Arthur with instructions to eat while she made the tea. Despite his obvious distress, he wolfed his share and washed it down with two cups of sweet tea. Irene tried to eat but the food stuck in her throat, and she gave what was left of her portion to Arthur, insisting that it would be criminal to waste good vittles. She sipped her tea, keeping an eye on the clock. The minutes passed and then the hours
without
a sign of Billy, and by two o’clock in the morning Arthur had slumped down on the bed and his even breathing indicated that he was asleep. Irene was too agitated to rest, and the fire had long since burned away to a pile of grey ash. The coal scuttle was empty and it was bitterly cold in the room. Rising to her feet, she went to the window and knelt on the small wooden chest where their clothes were stored with sprigs of dried lavender. She peered out through the bare branches of the tree in the hope of seeing Pa’s familiar figure striding homeward, but there was still no sign of him.
By three o’clock she was getting desperate. The mere fact that he was out so late suggested that his luck was fickle to say the least. She was chilled to the bone and a sudden cramp in her leg made her stand up to rub her aching calf muscles. It was then that a germ of an idea came into her head. Forgetting her pain, she opened the chest and riffled through the neatly folded garments. At the bottom she found Jim’s old nankeen breeches, a calico shirt and a corduroy waistcoat; clothes that had been outgrown even before he left home, but which Ma had stubbornly held on to, even though they would fetch a few coppers in the dolly shop.
An idea came into her head that shocked
her
with its audacity, but Irene was never one to refuse a challenge. Keeping an eye on Arthur in case he should awaken suddenly, she took off her own clothes and dressed in the male attire. It felt strange to see her legs in trousers and Jim’s old boots were a couple of sizes too large for her feet, but she shrugged on the coarse shirt and finally the waistcoat, which she hoped would disguise her feminine curves. Lastly, she crammed her hair into an old cloth cap, and a quick glance in the mirror was enough to satisfy her that in a poor light she could pass for a boy.
It was a daring plan, born out of desperation, but as she left the shop Irene was filled with nervous excitement. She strode along the pavements with a swagger in her step. So this was how it felt to be a boy. She gave a start as a feral cat sprang out from an alleyway in hot pursuit of a large rat, and somewhere in the darkness of a doorway someone moaned. Irene did not stop to investigate; she quickened her pace, putting her head down as she passed a couple of drunks who staggered along arm in arm as if in some bizarre three-legged race. If they noticed her they gave no sign of it, and Irene couldn’t help smiling to herself. If she had been dressed in her normal clothes no doubt at least one of them would have propositioned her. Free for the first time from
the
constraints of stays and long skirts she felt that she was invincible.
When she reached Blue Boar Court, she took a quick look round, and satisfied that there was no sign of a bobby on the beat, she raised her hand and knocked three times on the door in rapid succession. She repeated the action, more slowly this time, allowing a heartbeat in between raps, just as she had seen her father do on so many occasions in the past. The door opened and she recognised the grizzled face of Jed Blacker, commonly known as Blackie, the ancient doorman who had protected the Sykes brothers since they were boys.