The Diamond of Drury Lane (24 page)

‘She’s not ’ere,’ said Meatpie, tipping up the old couch I slept on.

‘But what’s this?’ said Pox-face gleefully as forty pounds worth of guineas rolled across the floor. I
cursed them as I heard them scrabble to collect the money. ‘I didn’t know the pussycat was so rich.’

‘Ha, ha, ha! She’s not now,’ said Meatpie with his stupid slow laugh.

They continued to up-end clothes presses and overturn rails of costumes in their hunt for me.

‘’Ere, Kitty-kitty!’ crowed Pox-face, ‘Come to Daddy. We’ve someone ’oo wants you!’

I crouched low on the ledge, shivering, praying that they would not think to look out of the window.

‘It’s no good. She’s not ’ere,’ said Meatpie at last.

‘But at least the pistol-man didn’t get away,’ said Pox-face. ‘Billy won’t be too cross about losing the minnow now ’e’s caught the fish. Let’s get over there before the fun starts.’

Footsteps retreated down the stairs. I paused, hardly daring to breathe. Silence. I got up slowly, taking care not to lose my footing. They’d come for the diamond. They’d got Johnny and were going to try to make him tell them where the non-existent stone was. But what could I do? Run for help? Who to? Mr Sheridan? He lived too far away. The law?
But the runners would arrest Johnny rather than help him. Syd’s gang? Yes, Syd was my best hope.

I climbed back into the room. It looked as if a hurricane had swept through it. Mrs Reid was not going to be pleased. I crept to the door and listened. Nothing. In stockinged feet I padded down the wooden stairs, remembering to jump over the one second from the bottom that always creaked loudly. I could hear my heart thumping, my breath hissing between my teeth, and now the murmur of distant voices. They sounded as if they were coming from Johnny’s room. I had to pass his office to get to the stage door. Keeping to the shadows, I made my way past the Green Room and towards the hubbub. I could see several people crowded by the entrance to Johnny’s office. One turned . . . Pox-face . . . and I ducked behind the anchor propped up in the corridor. I waited a few moments and then poked my head out. They were all intent on the scene in the room. I slid along the wall, wishing I were not wearing skirts that whispered with every step I took. I was right behind Meatpie now and could smell his sweat of
excitement. He leant over to say something to Pox-face, revealing Johnny trussed up on his back on the bed. Billy was sitting on the desk, twirling the pistols in his hands. Ferret-features was ransacking every drawer and chest in the place. Even Johnny’s little bundle had been ripped open and strewn across the floor.

‘No shot?’ said Billy calmly, admiring the guns. ‘So I could’ve skinned the cat then? Fortunately, it’s never too late. ’Er time will come.’

‘Makes you feel big, does it, Shepherd, threatening a girl?’ spat Johnny.

If I could’ve done, I would’ve told him not to rile Billy. The consequences were felt immediately. Billy struck his prisoner across the cheek with the handle of one of the pistols. He then turned to Meatpie.

‘Take ’im on to the stage. I can feel one of my greatest performances about to begin as I beat the whereabouts of that diamond out of ’im. There ain’t room to swing a cat in ’ere . . . though perhaps we can try that later when she turns up, eh?’ he sniggered.

The gang laughed sycophantically. I shuddered.

They were coming out. I had to hide. But poor Johnny . . . I couldn’t leave him to this! First things first: I had to get myself out of sight. I would be no use to Johnny if Billy had the chance to carry out any of his threats against me. Trying to make no noise, I ran down the corridor and on to the scenery lot at the back of the stage. There, stacked against the wall, was the enchanter’s laboratory Mr Bishop’s carpenter had been fixing. I clambered on to the set and groped in the dark for the catch to release the hidden compartment. There! A small hole, not much bigger than Mrs Reid’s sewing cupboard, opened before me, in the wooden fireplace to the left of the cauldron. I slid the door closed, but as I did so, one of the glass bottles fell from its shelf and smashed on the floor.

‘Did you ’ear that?’ said Ferret-features, running on to the stage.

‘It came from over there,’ said Billy. ‘Check it out.’

‘Could it be that old man from the door?’ asked Pox-face.

‘Nah, ’e’s out cold. I tied ’im up,’ said Ferret-features.

Lanterns flared in the dark as Pox and Ferret searched for the source of the disturbance. I could hear a dragging noise and, through the crack in the compartment, saw Meatpie pulling Johnny out of the wings. Billy was standing centre stage, torch raised above his head, looking up at row upon row of empty seating. Above his head the basket of the balloon from that evening’s farce swung gently in the draught. He gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.

‘You know, boys, I always wanted to be on stage, and now’s me chance.’

Footsteps approached my hiding place; the enchanter’s laboratory rattled as Pox-face jumped on to it.

‘Billy, over ’ere!’ he shouted, only feet from my position. ‘Broken glass all over the shop.’

‘It could’ve been the wind,’ suggested Ferret-features feebly.

‘What wind, you dung brain?’ snapped Billy. ‘No, I smell a rat . . . or should I say Cat? Find ’er!’

Pox-face began to look amongst the scenery leaning up against the back wall. Ferret-features, displaying more intelligence than I had expected, started to thump on the hollow walls of the battlements and buildings. I murmured a quick prayer that the carpenter had managed to fix the fault with the compartment: the last thing I needed was for it to spring open now.

Thump, thump, thump! Ferret was right by me. Crash, smash, crash! Bottle after bottle fell from the shelf, exploding as they hit the floor. They made so much noise that he missed the strange echo as he rapped on the door of the compartment.

‘Nothink, Billy,’ Ferret called over to his leader. ‘If she was ’ere, she must ’ave done a runner.’

‘Leave it then. Let’s get on with the show.’

Ferret-features and Pox-face moved to the front of the stage, taking their lanterns with them. Now was my chance to slip away.

‘So, Pistol-man,’ Billy was saying. I could see him holding Johnny by the hair. ‘Are you goin’ to give me the pleasure of a long and painful
beatin’ or are you goin’ to tell me now where the diamond’s ’idden?’

‘Diamond? What diamond?’ replied Johnny fiercely. ‘There is no diamond.’

Billy let go of Johnny’s hair. He took a step back and laced his fingers together, bending them backwards so they cracked like pistol shots.

‘Good. I ’oped you’d say that.’

I turned my eyes away but could tell by the sickening sound of knuckle on bone that the beating had begun.

I must delay no longer: I had to get help. I slipped out of my hiding place and tiptoed to the stage door without attracting the attention of any of Billy’s gang. On the threshold, cudgel clutched in his hand, lay Caleb. I knelt down beside him, feeling for signs of life. He was still breathing . . . but out cold.

Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me. A hand clapped on my shoulder. I twisted round and bit hard into it, giving rise to a sharp exclamation behind me.

‘Dammit, Cat!’ hissed Pedro, shaking his hand
in agony. ‘Why did you do that? What’s going on? Why’s Caleb on the floor?’

I had too much to tell him to berate him for frightening me like that. I decided the bite would be punishment enough.

‘Billy’s gang’s here. They’ve got Johnny. They’re trying to make him talk . . . to make him tell them where the diamond is.’ I didn’t have time to explain that the diamond had been a figment of my imagination for an alarming thought had just struck me. I looked over Pedro’s shoulder into the dark corridor. What was he doing here? He wasn’t in league with Billy and his gang, was he? I moved away from him. ‘Why are you here? Is Syd with you, or any of the others?’ I asked suspiciously.

‘No, I’ve come from Frank. He’s sorted out a passage for Johnny . . . if we can get him out of here.’

My suspicions subsided a little but I was left with the unpleasant truth that we were still only two against four.

‘Shall we go for Syd?’ I asked.

Pedro hovered indecisively. There was a shout
from the stage and the snap of something breaking . . . I prayed it wasn’t Johnny’s legs.

‘No time,’ said Pedro, his hand shaking slightly as he helped me to my feet. He looked as terrified as I felt. ‘Any ideas?’

I thought for a moment. Was he trying to trap me? There was a cry of pain from the stage. I couldn’t afford to think like this. I had to help Johnny and to do this I needed to trust Pedro. Surely on my home ground I should be able to beat those pea-brained thugs? At least with Pedro’s help it should be possible.

‘One, but it’s going to be tricky.’ I told him what I had in mind.

He smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the shadows of his face. ‘Brilliant . . . just show me the ropes.’

After rapid instruction in backstage management, Pedro said he was ready.

‘Remember, do nothing till you see them in their places. The white cross, remember,’ I whispered urgently as we wormed our way to the wings, keeping out of sight of the forestage.
‘You won’t let me down, will you?’

‘Of course not. Good luck!’ he hissed, giving my arm a squeeze. I took a deep breath, more nervous than any actress on her debut, and walked on to the stage, my life now depending on a boy I had spent the past few days suspecting of treachery.

‘Oi, Billy! I’ve been looking for you,’ I called out boldly.

My sudden appearance came as such a surprise that all five of them were momentarily arrested in their actions. Johnny, of course, had no choice: he was sagging in the ropes that bound him. Blood trickled from his nose and his left eye was puffy. He was barely conscious. Billy was poised above him, his fist raised. The three lieutenants were standing around them: Meatpie with his arms folded; Ferret hovering at his leader’s shoulder for the best view; Pox feeling the edge of his knife thoughtfully . . . hoping no doubt for a go at the victim. Billy lowered his fist.

‘Cat!’ groaned Johnny in despair. I suppose his one solace had been the thought that I had escaped.

‘Well, well, if it ain’t my little pussycat,’ said Billy, pushing his sleeves up to reveal his lean, muscular forearms. ‘I was lookin’ for you too. I knew you were about the place somewhere.’ He gave Meatpie a nod and the pudding boy started forward to seize me.

I held up my arms to ward him off. ‘Whoa! There’s no need for that between friends, surely?’ I said, hoping my voice would not betray my fear. ‘I only wanted to tell you that I’ve done what I promised. I got the diamond for you.’

Billy waved Meatpie off and beckoned me forward.

‘Bring it here then, like a good little girl,’ he said with his rotten grin.

‘Ah. You see, Billy, I’m no flat. This good little girl doesn’t trust big bad boys like you,’ I said archly, hands on my hips, still keeping my distance. ‘How could I know you’d keep your side of the bargain? So, naturally, I put it somewhere for safe keeping.’

In no mood for playing, Billy strode over and seized my elbow. In an attempt to make my
movements as natural as possible, I pulled away from him, trying to lead him further upstage to the white cross chalked on the floor. The boys formed up behind us, right on target. Why wasn’t Pedro making his move?

‘What bargain?’ Billy asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. ‘You’ll find that you’re in no position to bargain with me.’

‘But what about my dress?’ I asked with a petulant pout as I tried to resist turning to look into the wings where Pedro was supposed to be waiting. ‘You promised! You can’t have one of your girls going about dressed like a scarecrow, can you?’

Billy thought he understood me now. He gave a knowing smile and eased his grip. Changing tack, he put his arm around my shoulders, which was far worse than his previous menaces.

‘One of my girls, eh? You’ve seen the light then, Cat?’ He squeezed me to him. He smelt like the Fleet ditch. ‘Well, if you give me the diamond, I’ll let you in me gang and buy you a dress . . . a silk one. Anythink else?’ My eyes slid to Johnny, who
was watching me in horror. He must have guessed I was up to something but he thought I had miscalculated badly. I hoped he was wrong. But what was Pedro doing?

‘What about your friend ’ere?’ asked Billy. He was testing me for weakness, I could tell.

‘Oh, he’s no friend of mine,’ I bluffed with a shrug. ‘He was planning to dump me and go to America, that one.’

‘Good girl,’ said Billy, slapping me on the back. ‘I’m pleased you said that ’cause it wouldn’t’ve done to let ’im go now ’e knows we’ve got the stone. Come on then, give it to me.’

‘I can’t . . . not yet,’ I added hurriedly. ‘I pawned it.’ I dug in my pocket and held out the receipt from Mr Vaughan.

Billy squinted at it. ‘This says jools . . . gold and stuff, Cat. I can’t see no diamond.’

‘I put it in with some other things I’d lifted,’ I explained. ‘To make it less obvious. Mr Vaughan and I have a little understanding.’

‘I’m impressed, Cat! I’d ’eard ’e was straight. Well, what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go and get it.
I’m sure ’e won’t mind openin’ up for so special a customer.’

‘Probably not,’ I shrugged, ‘but I need my forty pounds back first.’ I put the receipt into my pocket.

‘Forty pounds? What forty pounds?’ Billy looked angry again. His grip now became painful.

‘Ask Meatpie and Pox-face,’ I said coolly.

Billy turned on his followers. ‘Is this true? ’Ave you got the money?

‘Well, Billy, it’s like this,’ said Pox-face digging into his pockets. ‘We were goin’ to tell you, weren’t we, Meatpie?’

‘Were we?’ said Meatpie dully.

‘Give me that!’ hissed Billy, snatching the coins from them. ‘I’ll deal with you two later.’

He began to count the gold.

‘Here, Billy,’ I said with what I hoped was a winning smile, ‘let me help you.’

I lifted the lantern up, moving a few paces forward as I pretended to stagger under its weight. He smiled indulgently at my girlish feebleness but moved towards me to take advantage of the light,
feet now planted plumb in the centre of the white chalk cross.