The Girl from Cotton Lane (69 page)

‘Well, it seems that Kenneth Bennett is making a good recovery,’ he said, a smile breaking out on his wide face. ‘The wound was serious enough, but he’ll live. Bennett’s given us a full statement which implicates Talbot and in which he says that the injury was purely accidental. For that you can thank your lucky stars, both of you.’

‘Even if it wasn’t accidental, we didn’t do it,’ Billy said quickly.

The inspector locked his fingers together and rested his elbows on the desk. ‘Supposing Talbot had said you stabbed Bennett and Bennett himself had corroborated his testimony?’ he said. ‘Where would that leave you two? In the mire, I should think. You see, that’s the danger of playing coppers. What you two should have done was to hand them both over to us after apprehending them with the minimum of force. As it happens, Bennett looks like he walked out in front of a train. As for Talbot, he’s so remorseful for injuring his pal that he made a statement without any form of pressure on our part. Now with those statements and the information about Talbot’s whereabouts on the night of the fire I should think we can start to set the ball rolling to get Mrs Roffey released from prison.’

‘Billy won’t get charged fer beltin’ Bennett, will ’e?’ Danny asked.

‘Belting? Is that what you call it?’ the inspector said sarcastically. ‘I would have thought hammering would have been a more apt description. But no, to answer your question, he won’t. Bennett made no complaint, and by the time his stomach wound is healed there won’t be any facial marks left to influence a judge, other than a slightly crooked nose.’

‘What about the factory owner?’ Danny asked.

‘Ah, yes, our Mr Harrison,’ the inspector replied, looking down at his notes for a few moments. ‘Well, I can tell you that we are looking for him. We will be able to cope by the way, thank you very much. Harrison will be charged, of course. The rest is up to the court. However, there is one thing I’d like to ask before you gentlemen leave. You stated that it was you who apprehended Bennett, Mr Sullivan?’

‘That’s right,’ Billy replied, frowning.

‘Well, I got some dirty looks from the surgeon. I believe he felt that we inflicted the injuries. What exactly did you hit him with, a girder?’

‘Nah, ’e slipped over,’ Billy replied, a smile playing around his mouth. ‘’E must ’ave caught ’imself on somefing or the ovver.’

Harold Simpson had done his job well, and after reporting back to his client was rewarded with a fat bonus. Theo now felt ready to exact his revenge on the man who had stolen his wife’s affections. He shut up the house and went to his garden shed before he departed, taking up a sharp axe which he tucked into the back of his belt. Ilford was unfamiliar territory to him but he was certain that he would soon find the man and deal with him, once and for all. Later there would be time to deal with his fickle, lying cheat of a wife, he vowed.

Theo boarded the train at Broad Street and as he leaned back in his seat he could feel the comforting pressure of the sharpened axe against his back. What pleasure it would give him to sink it into the skull of that no-good cheat he had once thought was his friend. It would be in all the papers but no one would suspect him, except maybe the investigator, but then he would respect a client’s confidence, Theo thought. No doubt the police would be baffled, and they would most probably seek a local maniac. It would be exciting reading the account of the Ilford axe murder in the Sunday papers. He would have to remember not to leave the axe in Galloway’s head though. Better to yank it out and throw it in the river.

The train jerked to a halt at Ilford Station and Theo stepped down, walking swiftly to the exit. There was no time to lose if he was going to do the deed properly. He had to find Primrose Gardens and then return via the river before it got too late.

‘Primrose Gardens? Yessir. Take the road ter yer left an’ after about a mile or so you’ll see it. There’s a church on the corner.’

Theo thanked the porter and suddenly felt a little uneasy. It wasn’t a good omen to have a church nearby, he thought, but never mind, it couldn’t be helped.

Primrose Gardens was a quiet suburban avenue with well-tended front gardens before gabled houses. Theo held his head low as he passed the church and walked into the leafy turning. Towards the end of the avenue he counted the numbers along to a smart house a little way ahead, and when he drew near consulted a slip of paper which he took from his top pocket. Yes, number 20. Mustn’t make a mistake, he thought. Wouldn’t be very nice if some old gentleman opened the door and got chopped up. That fornicating excuse for a man was going to get his comeuppance though.

Theo was about to step on to the path when a police officer seemed to appear from nowhere behind him. ‘Evenin’, sir. Lookin’ fer somebody, are we?’

Theo cursed his luck. ‘It’s that church,’ he muttered.

‘I beg yer pardon, sir?’

Theo looked at the police officer. He looked a kindly soul. I bet he never had any trouble with his wife, he thought. ‘I’m visiting a Mr Galloway,’ he said, feeling the axe against his spine.

‘Are yer, sir? And what is your name, may I ask?’

‘Theodore P. Harrison.’

‘And what is the purpose of your visit?’ the constable asked, swaying back and forth on his heels.

‘I’ve come to kill him,’ Theo said quietly.

The police officer eyed him suspiciously. ‘And ’ow d’yer propose ter kill ’im?’ he asked a little patronisingly.

‘With this,’ Theo replied, taking out the sharp axe from his belt.

The policeman stepped back a pace. ‘Now let me have that instrument, if yer please, sir.’

‘Why? Would you like to kill him for me?’ Theo asked.

‘I don’t think so, sir. Now come along,’ the policeman said, holding his hands out to placate him. ‘We’ll take yer down ter the station. Yer’ll get a nice bed fer the night, an’ if we ’urry there’ll be some supper too, I’ve no doubt.’

Theo slowly handed over the axe and allowed himself to be taken by the arm. ‘Tell me, officer. Is your wife true to you?’ he asked.

‘I’m not married, sir,’ the constable replied, feeling suddenly sad for the strange character with wide, staring eyes.

‘I’m married,’ Theo told him. ‘My wife’s been seeing another man. I was on my way to kill him when you stopped me. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to do it for me? I could pay you well.’

‘No, I’d sooner not, if yer don’t mind.’

They reached the police station in time for supper, and one hour later Theo Harrison was sleeping like a baby in a police cell.

On a mild evening during the first week in April a car drove into Wilson Street and pulled up outside Murphy’s Gym. Ellie Roffey looked pale and drawn as she stepped out to loud cheering and was embraced by the aged Florrie, who handed her a large bouquet of roses. Inside the hall more people had gathered and when Ellie walked in she was mobbed by many well-wishers, all eager to shake her hand. The boxing ring had been taken down and high on the far wall a bunting read, ‘Welcome Home, Ellie’.

The piano was playing and Maisie got up to dance the jig with Broomhead Smith, much to the annoyance of Alice Johnson who sat biting the inside of her cheek. Florrie was feeling tired. She sat for a while talking to Ellie about the campaigner’s time in Holloway, while Maudie sat with Sadie and some of the street women sipping beer and munching cheese sandwiches, all of which had been supplied by Father Kerrigan.

Billy Sullivan had been in regular work for the past few weeks and he had managed to buy himself a new shirt to go to the party. His wife Annie looked radiant as she walked with him into the hall wearing her new dress, her four children toddling along at her side. Danny and Iris Tanner followed them in, Danny holding his two older sons by the hand and Iris carrying the youngest. Danny and Billy both went over to speak with Ellie who had been told of their part in her release, and she embraced them warmly.

‘Well, I ’ope yer gonna take it a bit easier from now on,’ Danny remarked with a big grin. ‘An’ don’t let anybody see yer next time yer burn somebody’s yard down.’

‘Bloody cheek!’ Ellie replied laughing. ‘Anyway, I don’t fink I’ll be doin’ much around ’ere from now on,’ she said, winking slyly at Florrie.

‘I don’t fink yer gonna ’ave time fer anyfink,’ Florrie said to her as soon as the men had left. ‘What wiv all that prison reform work yer said yer gonna take up.’

The piano player was getting into his stride, and as he banged out his repertoire of popular tunes Broomhead’s voice rang out loudly.

‘Yer know, that man o’ mine’s got a lovely voice, even if I say so meself,’ Alice said to Sadie Sullivan.

‘Yeah, it is a bit strong,’ Sadie replied. ‘I ’ope ’e don’t want payin’.’

Carrie arrived with her mother and her daughter Rachel, who looked stunning in her pale green dress with her long flaxen hair arranged on top of her head. Nellie took Ellie’s hand and planted a kiss on her cheek and then after chatting for a short while she sought her friends from Page Street. Carrie stayed talking with Ellie while Rachel slipped away as soon as she spotted Danny.

‘Uncle Danny, ’ow d’yer get ter the Isle o’ Dogs?’ she asked him.

‘What d’yer wanna go there for?’ Danny enquired, grinning.

‘Oh, it’s not me, it’s a friend o’ mine,’ Rachel replied.

‘Well, it’s a long way by bus,’ he said. ‘Yer gotta change twice. Besides it’s not the sort o’ place fer young ladies ter be goin’ on their own. Tell ’er from me.’

The evening was going well and one or two of the young lads asked Rachel for a dance. Carrie was sitting with Annie and Danny on a wooden bench and she smiled to see the happiness reflected on her daughter’s face. Danny saw the look in his sister’s eyes and he touched her arm. ‘I remember you lookin’ like that when you were ’er age,’ he remarked. ‘I used ter fink yer was the most pretty gel in the street, even if yer were me big sister.’

Carrie grinned and kissed his cheek fondly. ‘Yer know, Danny, I worry fer that one,’ she said quietly. ‘Rachel’s missed out on a lot, what wiv ’er farvver dyin’ the way ’e did, an’ ’er ’avin’ ter work at the yard. I sometimes wonder if I’ve done right by ’er.’

Danny slipped his arm around Carrie and gave her a big hug. ‘Look, sis, it couldn’t ’ave bin easy fer yer but yer’ve done right. Yer’ve done right by all of us, an’ one day it’s all gonna be Rachel’s. She’s ’appy enough, jus’ look at ’er.’

Rachel was laughing as a young lad twirled her around in the centre of the floor and Carrie nodded. ‘I ’ope she is, Danny. She’s bin very secretive lately though. She spends a lot o’ time in ’er room.’

‘It was the same wiv you if I remember rightly,’ Danny told her. ‘Mum used ter say you were a dreamer. She despaired fer yer at times, so Dad told me not long before ’e died.’

Carrie looked down at her feet for a few moments. ‘I wish Dad could ’ave seen our Charlie once more before ’e died. ’E was always talkin’ about ’im towards the end.’

Danny nodded. ‘I don’t know if any of us will ever see Charlie again,’ he said sadly. ‘’E may decide ter come back ’ome one day, who knows?’

‘Charlie’s built a new life fer ’imself,’ Carrie replied. ‘’E’s got a wife an’ kids. Can yer expect ’im ter bring ’em ’alfway round the world jus’ fer us, ’specially now that Dad’s dead? ’E’ll be faced wiv all the bad memories too.’

‘But we’re ’is family, Carrie. It’s got ter count fer somefink,’ Danny said quietly.

‘Charlie said goodbye fer ever when ’e boarded that train at Waterloo, Danny. ’E knew we’d never ferget ’im,’ Carrie almost whispered, feeling the sadness gathering in her chest.

‘It would be lovely fer Muvver ter see ’im once more though,’ Danny said.

‘Mum said ’er goodbyes too,’ she told him, remembering so vividly the day that Charlie left. No one would ever know what was in their mother’s heart that morning, and perhaps it was just as well, Carrie thought.

Chapter Forty

In her small bedroom at the top of the stairs Rachel leaned back on her pillow and sighed deeply. She had been writing another of her many letters and her eyes felt tired. Below in the bright cobbled yard it was quiet. Occasionally she heard the stamping of horses and their blowing into the troughs but on these Sunday mornings there was little to disturb the quietness of the house. Carrie had gone with Nellie to church, something that the old lady had become accustomed to doing during the last year. Rachel knew that they would probably be away from the house for at least two hours and it gave her the chance to make some progress with her letter.