Going back indoors, Nellie set to work in earnest. It was after lock-up when Jack and Poppy were informed about the visit to Ezra Morton.
‘So, what this means is, we can order our gin from anyone now without any reprisal from Ezra,’ Nellie said with a smile which had not left her face all day.
‘Well, it should be soon, Mum, because we’re running low,’ Jack said with a yawn.
‘First thing tomorrow,’ Nellie answered, ‘you three get off to bed now.’
Left alone in the kitchen with her friend, it was Nancy who spoke first. ‘That little ’un ain’t half clever, Nell.’
‘Surprising, ain’t it?’
Nancy nodded. ‘I hope you realise how lucky you are.’
‘Oh, I do, Nance. How many folk would do what she has for us? She doesn’t have a spiteful bone in her body. I know she’s only been here but a month or so but I’ve come to love that young wench,’ Nellie confided.
‘Me an’ all. I can’t imagine life without her now,’ Nancy replied. ‘Anyway, I’m for my bed, I’m exhausted.’
Left alone, Nellie’s mind went over yet again her visit to Ezra and she sighed with complete and utter satisfaction.
14
For Arthur, the next week was busy as he took afternoon tea with grieving widows. Outwardly, he was the perfect gentleman, while on the inside he was eager to get his hands on their money. It was going to be a long, slow process and his frustration mounted with each passing day. In between visits, Arthur had replenished his cash flow by way of picking pockets and stealing purses.
Hovering around the entrance to New Street station, Arthur had watched people coming and going. Checking out their attire he had targeted the wealthy; men with top hats and walking canes were the easiest to steal from. They were careless with their wallets, almost always carrying them in a jacket pocket, making them easily accessible. Once lifted, they were emptied and dropped, then Arthur strolled away from the scene of the crime. The crowded platforms also provided good pickings as he meandered through the crowds eagerly awaiting the steam train’s arrival.
The station was noisy, with people talking loudly to be heard over the chug of the train pulling in and then the loud hiss of steam as it came to rest. Folk pushed and shoved their way to the doors then had to step back for passengers to alight.
Arthur wove his way between the bodies packed tightly together, his hands moving swiftly, before he turned and joined the throng now heading for the exit. Then he headed home to count his blessings and give thanks that he had not been caught pilfering from the rich.
One morning, Arthur decided to clear out Dolly’s room and sell the furniture, and he suddenly remembered again the necklace the girl had inherited. When she had run away, he’d looked for it but had found nothing. Now would be a good time for a thorough search; if she didn’t have it with her then it had to be hidden in this house somewhere.
Throwing open the door to Dolly’s room, he glanced around. Where would she have hidden that jewel? His mind travelled back to the day of the reading of Avril’s will. Dolly had been given the necklace and its letter of authenticity. She had slipped the chain over her head – would she still be wearing it? Where was the letter? Had she taken it with her as well?
Then there was the will and Arthur tried to recall where he’d put it. He’d find it later, for now he was going to be busy turning Dolly’s room inside out. He needed to find that jewellery; once sold he would live like a king on the proceeds.
The hours passed as Arthur searched in every possible place. The tallboy and chest of drawers revealed nothing as he turfed out the girl’s clothing; nor did the bed and mattress.
Then he checked the floorboards and on finding a loose one he ripped it up. Nothing.
Damn the girl! Where had she hidden it?
The whole day was spent looking in drawers and cupboards in the kitchen and living room to no avail. There was no sign of the piece or its letter – and the will was missing too.
Crafty madam!
Arthur knew he would have to find a way of getting hold of Dolly Daydream now, and when he did, he would rip that jewel from her throat before he wrung her neck.
You won’t get the better of Arthur Micklewhite, you little varmint! You’ll rue the day you took off with what should have been mine! Watch out, Dolly Daydream – I’m coming for you!
Whilst Arthur was ransacking his home, across in Nova Scotia Street, Ezra Morton was eyeing the big man standing in his office.
‘Frederick, I’d like you to do me a favour.’
‘Anything, boss.’
‘I want you to find out everything you can about Nellie Larkin – on the quiet, you understand,’ Ezra said touching the side of his nose.
‘All right Guvnor,’ Frederick said with a nod.
‘Good man. I’ll make sure you’re recompensed.’ Ezra smiled, then, seeing the look of confusion he qualified his statement with, ‘You’ll get a bonus in your pay packet.’
Frederick’s frown turned to a grin.
‘That will be all,’ Ezra said, dismissing the man from his presence with a wave of his fingers.
Big and stupid – but very useful, he thought as he watched Frederick leave the office.
Ezra considered his request regarding Nellie. Everyone had a skeleton in a cupboard somewhere, and he was sure Nellie would prove no exception. If he could discover something hidden in her past it would be an excellent bargaining tool. He would threaten to expose her to the town if she didn’t sack Poppy. Once the girl was free of The Crown Saloon, he would swoop in and save her from a life on the streets – but it would be a ruse. On her last visit she had brought that damned solicitor with her who had caught him out trying to cheat more money out of Nellie. So, he would strike back by taking her barmaid.
You’re a sly old fox, Ezra, and make no mistake! he thought as he clipped the end of his cigar. Lighting his Havana with a Lucifer, Ezra watched the plume of blue-grey smoke with satisfaction. On occasion it was not who you knew – but what you knew. He wondered whether there might even be something dire enough discovered in Nellie’s past for her to relinquish the saloon to him.
Nellie Larkin had stood up to him – which he admired, but if word about it got out, he would lose all credibility. He could not afford to let that happen so he must strike first. He had to take Nellie down by blackening her name – and soon. He refused to be bested by a woman.
An image of Poppy formed unbidden in his mind. There was no denying he would like a dalliance with the girl; she was pretty and she definitely turned heads. She would warm his bed until he tired of her and then he would be rid of her.
His main intention in all of this was to endeavour to dupe Nellie out of her livelihood somehow. He’d made up his mind, The Crown Saloon was a little goldmine – and he wanted it.
Cigar held between his teeth, Morton smiled wickedly. Before too long he would have Poppy and he could well be the owner of the gin palace.
Sniff out what you can, my faithful bloodhound, he thought as his mind returned to Frederick Dell.
As he’d left his employer’s office, Frederick had wondered where to start with the task he’d been given. Who would know anything about Nellie Larkin? He could quiz some of her customers he supposed. A drunken brain speaks a sober mind. How forthcoming they would be was anyone’s guess, however. Either loyal to her or too inebriated to speak, Frederick knew he would have his work cut out. He didn’t dare return to Ezra with nothing to report, for that could see him floating face down in the nearest canal.
Sweating now in the well-tailored suit Ezra insisted his employees wear, Frederick ran a finger around his stiffly starched collar. Lumbering down the street, he was off to The Crown Saloon where he might have to endure drinking that God-awful gin whilst chatting with the other customers. He prayed he didn’t go blind from it in his endeavour to uncover some juicy gossip about the landlady.
In a dress she had acquired from somewhere, old Aggie sidled up to the bar and
hooked a finger to Nellie.
Seeing the sign, Nellie nodded. ‘Another, Aggie?’
‘Ar, but I need a word. There’s a big ape in a fancy suit outside asking questions about you,’ Aggie said as she slapped her coins on the counter.
‘About me? Nellie asked with a frown.
Nodding, Aggie gulped her drink. ‘I know for a fact as he works for that Ezra Morton an’ all.’
‘Does he now? Thanks Aggie – here, have one on the house,’ Nellie said as she topped up the woman’s glass.
Pushing through the crowd Nellie made her way out into the sunshine and squinted around. Finding the big man easily she walked up to him.
‘My name is Nellie Larkin, and I believe you’re asking questions about me,’ she said as she looked up at the giant of a man.
Frederick visibly shrivelled under her gaze. Damn, he’d been found out already! Ezra would be furious with him.
‘Erm…’ He shuffled from foot to foot looking like a naughty schoolboy.
‘Why? Who sent you?’ Nellie asked.
‘Erm…’ Again, Frederick searched for answers.
‘It’s Ezra Morton ain’t it?’ Nellie pushed.
Frederick nodded and looked down at his huge feet.
‘What’s he after?’
‘I don’t know, Nellie, and that’s the truth. He just told me to find out what I could about you,’ Frederick said, feeling wretched.
‘I see. Well Mr…?’
‘Frederick Dell.’
‘Mr Dell, be kind enough to go back to that – to Mr Morton and tell him this. If he wants to know about me, he should come and ask me himself.’ Nellie’s hands moved to her hips as she spoke.
‘All right, Nellie, but he won’t be happy. He’ll be so mad with me, I’ll probably get the sack.’
‘If that should prove the case, then you come back here to me. I’ll see if I can find you a job in The Crown.’
‘Ta, Nellie!’ Frederick beamed.
‘Right, now you go and tell Ezra what I said.’ Nellie shook her head as she watched him stride away. A child’s mind in a man’s body, she felt a little sorry for him.
Going back indoors, she went directly to the kitchen where she told Nancy what had transpired.
‘What’s it all about, Nell?’ Nancy asked, perplexed.
‘I don’t know but I don’t like it, Nance,’ Nellie responded. ‘I know Ezra’s got his eye on our Poppy though.’
‘Oh, blimey!’ Nancy dropped into a chair.
‘He can’t get at her though, unless…’ Nellie’s hands shot to her mouth.
‘What? Unless what?!’
‘Nance, it’s my guess he’s going to try to get me to sack Poppy!’
‘Why?’ Nancy asked, aghast at the thought.
‘So he can—’ Nellie began.
‘Steal her away!’ Nancy finished. ‘Oh, Nell! Whatever shall we do?’
‘We have to tell Poppy – tonight! Everybody needs to be in the know so we can all look out for her.’ Nellie said as she paced the floor.
‘So why did he want to know about you?’ Nancy asked.
‘That would be to blackmail you,’ Dolly said as she hobbled through the doorway. ‘I’m sorry, Nellie, I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I did hear what was said.’
‘It’s all right, sweetheart. You said blackmail…?’
‘Yes, it sounds like it to me. He’ll find out your secrets – if you have any – and use them against you,’ Dolly explained.
‘How, though?’ Nellie asked.
‘If he is after Poppy as you suspect, he’ll threaten to disclose your secrets to everyone unless you sack her,’ Dolly answered. ‘At least that’s my thinking anyway.’
‘How come you’re so clever?’ Nellie asked with a smile.
‘My mum ensured I had a good education, and I suppose I have a quick brain,’ Dolly said shyly.
‘Nell, what about Jack!’ Nancy gasped.
‘Oh, no!’ Nellie closed her eyes. Then she said, ‘I suppose the time has come to tell him before Ezra Morton does!’
15
Sitting in the parlour of the fine house in Ladywell Walk, Arthur gazed around him at the expensive paintings and porcelain figurines. His mind was adding up how much each item could be worth.
The house was large with six bedrooms, parlour, living room, dining room, kitchen and scullery, plus an indoor lavatory, so he’d been told. It was tastefully decorated and the furniture was comfortable and beautifully upholstered. French windows opened onto expansive lawns with neat flower borders, and Arthur could hear bees buzzing around the arbour. The carpet beneath his feet was of a rich Turkish design and it was as he placed his cup and saucer on a small mahogany table that Ann Bradshaw spoke.
‘I have two tickets for the theatre, Gabriel¸ and I wondered if you would be kind enough to accompany me,’ she said.
‘Alas, I must decline, Ann. You see, my wardrobe is somewhat depleted due to a flood in my home. My clothes were all but completely ruined I’m afraid,’ Arthur lied.
‘You really should replace them,’ Ann smiled sweetly.
‘Of course, I would, but my capital is tied up in various ventures and not easily accessed. I apologise most profoundly as there is nothing I would have liked more.’
‘Then there is only one option open to us. Come, Gabriel, we are going shopping – we must get you kitted out appropriately.’ Ann reached out a hand for Arthur to help her to her feet. She was astonished when Arthur fell to his knees in front of her.
‘Thank you, Ann, please be assured I will recompense you as soon as my funds are released!’
‘Oh, my – Gabriel!’ Ann said as he kissed her hands.
Dragging her to her feet Arthur wrapped his arms around her and gazed into her eyes. ‘Ann, I can wait no longer to tell you of my feelings for you. In the short time we have known each other I have come to love you. Oh, Ann, I think of you night and day! I know you are still in mourning, but I can contain my feelings no longer!’ Arthur gently pressed his lips to hers and felt her respond to his kiss.
Pulling away slightly, Ann stared at the man she’d only known for a matter of weeks. ‘We should respect my period of mourning,’ she said on a breath.
‘In public certainly, but in private…’ Arthur again kissed her gently and smiled inwardly as he felt her arms snake around his neck.
As they parted, he asked, ‘Shopping now, my love?’
Ann nodded, suddenly feeling like a young girl again.
Later that day Arthur hung his tail coat and trousers in the tallboy and stood back to admire them. Despite being off the peg, they fitted him beautifully. New clothes in exchange for a false declaration of love and a couple of kisses – money for old rope! And a visit to the theatre into the bargain. Arthur chuckled; Ann Bradshaw was hooked. Now to cast his line in Sylvia Chilton’s direction. Tomorrow would tell whether or not she would take his bait. Mentally slapping himself on the back, Arthur ran downstairs to contrive a plan to kidnap Dolly Daydream and retrieve that necklace!
Whilst Arthur was wooing Ann Bradshaw, Ezra sat in his office in the brewery staring at the man stood before him and his voice boomed out. ‘For God’s sake, Frederick! Can’t you do anything without fouling it up?!’
‘Sorry, Mr Morton, sir,’ Frederick replied, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself. ‘Somebody must have told Nellie I was asking after her.’
‘Obviously, how else would she have known?’
Frederick began to shuffle about, clearly uncomfortable beneath his employer’s gaze.
‘What did you find out then?’ Ezra asked.
‘Nothing, boss.’
Ezra sighed audibly. ‘All right – get out!’
Frederick fled the office before Ezra really lost his temper.
Leaning back in his chair, Ezra realised he would have to put someone else on Nellie’s case. He needed information and the sooner the better so he could get Poppy by his side and into his bed. Once that was accomplished, he could c
oncentrate on the ruination of Nellie Larkin.
Frederick was relieved he was still breathing and although not very bright, he was intelligent enough to wonder if it was time to find a new job. It would, of course, mean telling Ezra he was going to leave his employ. He didn’t know which would be worse, leaving or staying. He sat in the outer office and pondered. Nellie had told him she could find him work and shifting barrels would be a lot easier than having to scare people into parting with their money. His conscience would be clear too.
How would Ezra react if he said he was quitting? Would he be angry? Or would he bid Frederick a fond farewell? Shaking his head, he feared it wouldn’t be the latter.
Hearing his name being called, Frederick gulped. If he was going to do this, now would be the perfect time.
Going to Ezra’s office once more he tapped the door and walked in. Standing by the desk he waited, his hands clasped in front of him.
‘Find me somebody to do what you couldn’t!’ Ezra said, without looking up from the papers on his desk.
Frederick didn’t move and remained silent.
‘Did you hear me?’ Ezra said, glancing up.
Frederick nodded.
Ezra sighed, ‘What now?’
‘I’m leaving, Mr Morton,’ Frederick said quickly.
‘Leaving?’
‘Yes, sir, I’m quitting,’ Frederick said.
‘Oh, I see.’ Ezra’s eyebrows shot up. This was something he hadn’t expected. ‘Where will you go and what will you do for work?’
‘I ain’t sure as yet, but I’ve had enough, Mr Morton. I can’t do this any more. It ain’t right taking money from folk who don’t have much anyway.’
‘Frederick, these people borrowed the money in the first place, so they have to pay it back. Surely you understand that?’ Ezra explained as if speaking to a five year old.
‘I do, but frightening them into it is wrong and I ain’t doing it any more,’ Frederick’s hands clenched as he spoke.
The Children from Gin Barrel Lane Page 8
