Dark Angels

by Ron Thomas

  ***

  Something had happened, something violent, something they disagreed about. Meggsie could hear the argument even before the door opened. Then it was flung open violently and Meggsie wisely decided that whatever was to happen, his best course was to feign the deepest of sleeps.

  As they pushed past where Meggsie lay on the sofa, Guido pushed roughly at Nellie, and staggered, almost falling on top of him.

  ‘Christ, Nellie, get out of the way, will you?’

  ‘It’s not me, you bloody great oaf! Watch where you’re going. If you weren’t so pissed, perhaps you’d have less trouble staying upright!’

  ‘Don’t worry about me I can hold my booze,’ Guido replied, stumbling over his words.

  ‘Yeah, that’d be right. That’s why you got stuck into that poor inoffensive bastard with the razor in front of about a dozen witnesses. You didn’t worry about me. If they drag you in, I’ll be next. You know, there’s only one reason I hang about with you, you stupid bastard.’

  ‘Yeah? What’s that?’ Guido sneered.

  ‘I like to wake up next to someone lower than myself,’ she said, her voice heavy with irony, but as the last words left her mouth, there was the sound of the back of Guido’s hand across her face, then the sound of a falling body.

  ‘You shit, Caletti!’ Nellie screeched.

  At least Meggsie didn’t have to listen to bed springs squeaking. He heard Guido grunt as he fell onto the bed, and within a matter of minutes, snoring.

  ***

  Meggsie awoke to the sound of heavy bashing on the front door. It was still dark.

  ‘Police! Open up!’ Meggsie tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes and staggered to the door. Three uniformed policemen stood outside, two at the door and one intent on watching the side passage.

  ‘We’re looking for a Mr Guido Caletti. We’ve reason to believe he’s here in this house.’ Meggsie’s mind raced as he thought how he might answer. It was a long shot, but he felt that if he delayed long enough, Guido might be able to hide, or even escape out the back way.

  ‘I don’t think he’s here, officer. He went out last night, and I haven’t seen him since. I’ve been asleep since about 9 o’clock. You woke me up. As far as I know I’m the only one here.’

  ‘And just who are you, and what business have you here?’

  ‘My name is Gilbert Maggs,’ Meggsie said. ‘I live here, and I mind the house when Mister Caletti’s not here.’ He was seized by the sudden urge to make a smart remark. ‘I keep out any stray coppers that come nosing around.’

  ‘Don’t sass me, boy. I don’t take lip from little turds like you,’ the police sergeant replied angrily. ‘You’ll get my size twelve up your arse if you aren’t careful.’ The constable who’d been watching the house from outside interrupted.

  ‘Sarge, I just saw the curtains move. There’s someone else inside.’ The sergeant grabbed Meggsie roughly by the shoulder, thrust him aside, and barged past him, followed by two other policemen with batons drawn. It was all over in a few seconds. They came out with Guido, wearing just trousers, a singlet and handcuffs. He gave Meggsie a murderous look as the policemen frogmarched him by.

  ***

  As Meggsie stood by the door, watching as they bundled Guido into a black maria, the scent of Nellie’s perfume swept over him and he found she was peering over his shoulder. As the wagon took off down Francis Street, she turned away, and as he closed the door, their eyes met for just a moment.

  ‘You know, Gilby, at this moment I don’t know who I hate more, Caletti or that pig who dragged him out of bed,’ she said resignedly. ‘Life’s a shit.’

  Over the days that followed, Nellie rarely left the house. She was there when Meggsie left for school and when he arrived home. She left the house a couple of times in the evenings, but she wasn’t away long and appeared even more dejected when she returned. The following Tuesday, she dressed up for dancing, but she was only away for an hour or so. Her moods were black, and she rarely sought opportunities to talk. Some days, she didn’t bother to dress and spent the best part of the day in her pink flowery dressing gown. Nellie Cameron seemed to be gradually sinking into despair.

  ***

  Another week passed, and there didn’t seem to be any change in Nellie Cameron’s demeanour. Most of the time she was very disinclined to say anything, but a couple of times she snapped at him for small things. Meggsie reached the conclusion that Nellie’s anger and depression had little to do with him, and there was little he could do about it.

  There was a knock at the door as he was finishing his homework, and was thinking ahead to the challenge of getting himself something to eat.

  He opened the door to see a taciturn Frank Green standing there, with his grey hat in his hand. He knew Green by sight very well. In fact, the standover man known as ‘the little gunman’ was known to almost everyone in the district. Most people who valued their wallet and their looks stayed away from him. Even before he spoke, Meggsie knew why Guido’s mortal enemy had come.

  ‘I’m looking for Nellie,’ Green said. The gunman seemed wary, but relaxed enough, and coming from him, it sounded like a threat.

  ‘I’ll get her, Mister Green,’ Meggsie replied. Knowing that he and Nellie were in Guido Caletti’s house, and the hatred between Guido and Green was common talk among those in the know, he thought there may be a risk that she wouldn’t want to talk to her unexpected visitor.

  Nellie beckoned him as he was about to knock on her bedroom door. She had a comb in her hand and was combing furiously at her hair.

  ‘Keep him busy for a few minutes, Gilby, while I doll myself up,’ she whispered.

  ‘How can I do that?’ Meggsie whispered back. ‘I don’t know him.’

  ‘Just do it, Gilby. Just do it. I won’t be long. I’ll hurry.’ The bedroom door closed firmly in Meggsie’s face.

  ‘Come in, Mister Green. Miss Cameron says that she won’t be very long.’ Meggsie said, trying to sound cheerful. Green didn’t say a thing. Instead, he gave a curt nod and stepped inside. He glanced around the room, peered down the hallway and sniffed.

  ‘Have a seat, Mister Green. Anywhere you like.’ Meggsie offered. Green sat in the chair nearest the door. To Meggsie he seemed rather uneasy, as if he was expecting Guido to reach out and take him from the confines of Long Bay gaol.

  ‘Can I get you a cup of tea,’ Meggsie asked, simply to make conversation.

  ‘No,’ Green replied.

  ‘Beer?’

  ‘No beer.’

  Meggsie sat down opposite Green, completely lacking in inspiration. He tried hard to think how he might amuse the gunman until Nellie was ready. For a moment, he thought he might ask Green if he’d shot anyone lately, but on reflection, he thought better of it. They sat in pregnant, brooding silence as the minutes ticked by.

  Finally, Nellie appeared. Meggsie was stunned by the change. She was dressed to kill, the black cloud of depression that had hung over her for four weeks totally dissipated. Her flashing smile was back and before she’d even spoken, the stony face of Frank Green broke into a smile too.

  ‘I thought I’d better come and drag you out of here, girlie,’ he said. ‘I reckon it’s time you came out for a spree. They are missing you up at The House, and it’s time you got back on the job.’

  ‘Oh, Frankie! You say the nicest things. Let’s go where there’s some music, and a decent gin sling.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Green replied, as she took his arm.

  ‘Look after things here, won’t you Gilby,’ she called gaily over her shoulder as she disappeared. Then, the door slammed.

  His homework forgotten for the moment, Meggsie contemplated the instant redemption of Nellie Cameron and the implications of Frank Green having the nerve to call on her in Guido’s own house. It was the sort of thing that wars were fought over. If Guido found out that Frank Green, of all people, was moving in on his territory, there would be hell to pay, the moment he was free. The sudden thought
that, with Guido out of the way, Nellie might decide to bring Green back to the house on Francis Street struck him like a hammer blow. He’d already learnt that having men fight over her somehow gave Nellie a thrill.

  Meggsie’s fears proved groundless. He slept little, thinking that every sound in the street heralded the arrival of Nellie with Guido’s sworn enemy. But they didn’t arrive. In fact, Nellie didn’t arrive back at the house for another three days, and even then, when Meggsie arrived home from school, he found Nellie packing her bags and obviously intending to move elsewhere. Meggsie could only imagine that elsewhere was somewhere very close to Frank Green.

  With her bags packed, however, Nellie seemed in no great hurry to depart. Instead she took out a manicure case, selected one of the little weapons inside and began to file her fingernails. Though Meggsie was curious about exactly what had happened, he wasn’t about to ask, so he unpacked his schoolbag and began to prepare for the school assignment on ancient Egypt that was due a few days hence. For some time neither of them spoke.

  ‘What’s your attitude to making money, Gilby?’ Nellie asked idly, without looking up, and without missing a stroke with the nail file. On the surface, it was a casual question, but coming out of the blue as it did, Meggsie knew there was some purpose behind it.

  ‘Money’s good, I suppose,’ he replied warily. His earlier discussion with Benito flashed through his consciousness.

  ‘What would you do with it? Money, I mean, if you had some. If you had quite a bit of money, what would you do with it?’

  Meggsie smiled, but Nellie didn’t look up. ‘It’s not a subject I’ve had to spend any time thinking about,’ he said. ‘I’d buy some clothes for a start. A suit, so I could get back to dancing. Mine was burnt in the fire.’

  Nellie continued buffing her nails, then held her hand at arms-length examining the result of her handiwork. ‘I’d buy a Duesenberg,’ she said idly. Meggsie’s interest was immediately piqued. Nellie was the last person he expected might have an interest in cars.

  ‘I think I’d get a coupe. White, long, with lots of chrome,’ she said. ‘I’d have a chauffeur, of course, with a dinky little peaked cap and a proper uniform. I’d tell him to drive around the town with the top down.’

  ‘I’d rather have an Alfa Romeo,’ Meggsie replied. ‘Or a new MG. Something fast.’

  ‘That would cost quite an amount of money, wouldn’t it?’ Nellie asked. Meggsie would prefer to talk about cars, but it was clear that Nellie was intent on talking about money.

  ‘I know a way you can get money, Gilby,’ she said, still concentrating on her nails. ‘Easy money. All you’d have to do is to do some work for me.’ Meggsie’s suspicions began to rise. Guido had promised him easy money too, and that road had led in the direction of Long Bay gaol.

  ‘All you have to do is to play a part in a little charade. I’ll do all the hard work, and you get a share of the profits. Easy!’

  ‘I have to go to school. I promised Benito that I’d keep it up. I’m doing the intermediate certificate in a few months, and I want to do well at that. And I usually go to see Benito after school.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not in the daytime. It won’t interfere with school.’

  ‘I don’t know, Miss Cameron. I might think about it. I’ve got a lot on, with Benito and all.’

  Nellie Cameron held her hand out at arms-length again and admired her fingernails.

  ‘This is no time for indecision, Gilby. I realise you don’t presently have any source of income. I’ve offered you a chance to improve your financial position. It’s up to you whether you take it, but if you don’t need money, I’ll get someone else.’

  The reminder was timely. Without income from the shop, Meggsie knew he had to do something, and at least for the immediate future, it had to be outside school hours. Against all the little voices in his head that told him no, Meggsie found himself nodding almost involuntarily. ‘All right,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Good boy,’ Nellie said approvingly. Her old, dazzling smile was well and truly back. Meggsie wasn’t sure whether it was Frank Green or something else, but Nellie seemed to have overcome her depression with hardly any after effects.

  Suddenly she looked at her watch, gave a pinkie nail a last stroke of the file, and began to pack up her manicuring kit.

  ‘Nine o’clock tonight at the Doll House,’ she said with a wicked smile. ‘You know where that is don’t you?’ It was a loaded question and Meggsie nodded uncertainly.

  Nellie smiled again. ‘This time, you can come in through the front door, love,’ she said, checking her watch again, though it was less than a minute since last time she’d done so. She sat expectantly, hands crossed in her lap. Five minutes passed and, when a car horn tooted outside, she jumped eagerly to her feet.

  ‘Carry my bag for me, Gilby. There’s a good boy,’ she commanded.

  Frank Green jumped out of the driver’s seat as Nellie approached. Meggsie couldn’t help admiring the car, a green Buick Marquette coupe. Obviously Green was making a decent living. Crime seemed to be paying well for the little gunman.

  ‘Hello darling,’ Nellie cooed. Green didn’t reply. He took the bag from Meggsie without comment, opened the dicky seat and threw the suitcase in, then held the passenger’s door open for Nellie. Within moments the Buick accelerated away and disappeared around the corner with a squeal from tortured tyres.

  As he prepared a meagre meal of peanut butter on stale bread, Meggsie could only wonder what might happen when Guido Caletti found out that Nellie had left with Green.

  Chapter 26

  The Gentle Art of Gingering

  Meggsie was early, and he stood on the Cathedral Street footpath opposite the Doll House for some time. The side alley held disturbing memories for him. The steps in the alley where he’d spent many cold nights, were piled high with junk now. On the other side, beyond the Persian rug peddler, was the gate that led to the back stairs and the beginnings of his ‘edication’.

  The door at the top of the stairs was locked, but it had a glass panel. A scantily dressed girl inside saw him through the frosted glass and immediately opened the door.

  ‘Hello daaarling,’ she said as if he was her long-lost cousin. ‘My, you are a good-looking boy,’ she added effusively.

  ‘I’m Gilby. Miss Cameron told me to meet her here about nine.’

  ‘Miss Cameron said that, did she? Well I’m sorry, but Miss Cameron is otherwise engaged at the moment.’ Meggsie detected a slight smirk. ‘My name is Adelaide, and I can see that you’re comfortable until she’s ready. There’s a comfy seat over there, by the window. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Just water, thanks,’ Meggsie said. Once he was seated, he had a chance to look around. The room was dimly lit, and the red light on the front window ledge gave it an eerie, rosy glow. The doorway leading to the rooms at the back was hung with an exotic, beaded curtain, and beside that was a bar attended by an older girl of perhaps thirty. As Adelaide went to the bar, Meggsie watched a middle-aged man sitting in the corner of the room, reading a magazine, seemingly unaware of anything going on around him. The man uncrossed his legs, and then crossed them again and Meggsie couldn’t help noticing that the magazine cover portrayed a near nude woman. Fascinated, Meggsie couldn’t help glancing at it, while trying to appear disinterested.

  ‘Water for you, Gilby,’ Adelaide said as she placed two glasses on the table and sat beside him. She seemed to be drinking water but, unlike Meggsie’s, it had a twist of lemon balanced on the rim.

  Adelaide had thick make-up on, but it still didn’t manage to disguise the pallor of her face. She certainly didn’t have the glow of Claudia Battaglia. Adelaide didn’t look healthy to Meggsie, and her smile seemed strained. When she smiled with her mouth, her eyes refused to cooperate.

  ‘Tell me all about you, Gilby,’ Adelaide said, trying to sound provocative.

  ‘Nothing much to tell,’ Meggsie replied. He wasn’t inclined to tell her his life story.

&n
bsp; ‘How did you meet Nellie?’ Adelaide asked, taking the hint, but trying hard to keep conversation moving. She drained her glass, then popped chewing gum into her mouth.

  The vision of Nellie through the open window flashed before his eyes. For a moment, he thought Nellie might have leaked their little secret.

  ‘She came into the fruit shop where I worked,’ he replied. Adelaide’s lazy reaction told him the secret was safe. ‘That was before someone burnt the shop down.’

  ‘Geez!’ Adelaide exclaimed. ‘I need another drink.’ She walked over to the bar, and a few minutes later, he noticed her sniffing a white powder through a straw. As Adelaide began pouring herself a drink, an older woman entered through the beaded curtain and immediately scanned the room. Even to Meggsie’s untrained eye, her demeanour suggested that she owned the place. She was dressed in a gold-coloured beaded silk frock, and her heavy make-up couldn’t disguise her age. Around her flabby neck, she wore an ornate gold necklace, with blue stones, and she had rings on every finger. She said something to Adelaide, and Adelaide pointed in his direction. The other lady nodded, and Adelaide walked back towards him.

  ‘I have to go, Gilby. Customers waiting,’ she explained. She indicated with raised eyebrows in the direction of the gold-frocked lady. ‘Mrs Devine says I have to earn my keep. Do you know her?’

  ‘No,’ Meggsie replied, though he had a feeling he’d seen the other woman around Darlinghurst.

  ‘Matilda Devine,’ Adelaide said. ‘I thought everyone knew Tilly. Don’t get on the wrong side of her, whatever you do.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Meggsie replied. He seemed to remember that Benito had spoken of Tilly Devine, and not in glowing terms. Adelaide left him and went to the man reading the magazine. She sat very close to him and whispered something in his ear. Meggsie was quite interested in what might happen next, but he was interrupted by a man who came out through the beaded curtain, closely followed by a giggling young lady. The man pulled his hat down low over his brow, hiding his face. His business concluded, he quickly disappeared down the stairs to the street. Meggsie’s eyes quickly returned to the giggling young lady, who now approached the man reading the magazine. She quickly took over from Adelaide, and the magazine man followed her through the beaded curtain. He heard her giggling, then the slamming of a door.