Tanner Trilogy 03 - Backstreet Child

by Harry Bowling

‘Did yer ’ear on the wireless about those subs of ours what got sunk?’ Sadie asked her.

  Maisie nodded again. ‘I’m gettin’ frightened ter listen ter the news, it’s so bleedin’ depressin’. Maudie was tellin’ me she’s finkin’ o’ packin’ up an’ goin’ down ter stay wiv that sister of’ers in the country.’

  Sadie chuckled. ‘What, an’ leave Ernie?’

  ‘’E’d go wiv ’er, I s’pose,’ Maisie said.

  ‘No fear. ’E can’t stand the woman,’ Sadie replied. ‘ ’E was tellin’ my Daniel that ’er nerves are a sight worse than Maudie’s.’E wouldn’t go wiv ’er, not Ernie.’

  It was Maisie’s turn to chuckle. ‘’Ere, Sadie, get a look at’im.’

  Sadie glanced in the direction her friend was nodding and saw Wallace hurrying along the turning carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder. ‘What the bleedin’ ’ell is ’e doin’ wiv that?’ she said out loud.

  ‘Gawd knows,’ Maisie answered. ‘ ’E’s up ter no good, I bet.’

  Sadie stopped at her front door and pulled on the doorstring. ‘Fancy a cuppa?’ she asked.

  The fire was burning bright in the cosy parlour and the two friends sat chatting together for a while. Soon they were joined by Maudie and a little later by Dolly Dawson, who had managed to wheedle her way into the exclusive meetings during the past few months.

  ‘I’ve just come from the corner shop,’ she announced as she made herself comfortable near the fire. ‘Ole Albert Lockwood’s ravin’.’

  ‘Oh, an’ why’s that then?’ Sadie asked.

  ‘Well, ’e was plannin’ on paintin’ ’is name over the shop when ’e shut fer dinner, an’ was sayin’ ’ow ’e’d managed ter borrer a couple o’ ladders an’ a plank. ’E said ’e’d mixed the paint up, sorted out ’is brushes an’ a pair of overalls, an’ when’e turns round, what d’yer fink?’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Sadie chuckled. ‘Somebody nicked the plank.’

  Billy Sullivan leaned against the counter and idly watched the domino players. Charlie Alcroft was eyeing the rest slyly while Tom Casey was studying his pieces carefully. Maurice Salter sat back with a triumphant look on his face while the fourth player Bert Jolly seemed bored with the whole procedure. Dominoes were placed down and then when Tom Casey laid a piece, an argument ensued and Maurice decided to act as mediator. Tempers rose and Billy grinned to himself as Tom Casey threw down his hand and came to the bar. ‘Give us a pint, Billy, will yer,’ he said, looking very aggrieved.

  After Tom Casey had been persuaded by Maurice to rejoin the group, the game got under way again and Billy polished a few glasses. Tuesday evenings were invariably quiet sessions. His mind turned to Annie and the kids. The last letter Annie had sent home worried him. Brendan had gone down with mumps and the eldest lad Patrick had been getting into a few scraps with the local boys at his school.

  ‘Yer look a bit serious, Billy.’

  He turned to see Patricia smiling at him. ‘I was jus’ finkin’,’ he said casually.

  ‘Annie an’ the kids?’

  ‘Yeah. Brendan’s gone down wiv mumps.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Patricia said, eyeing him in a way that made him feel uneasy. ‘It must be a worry.’

  Billy shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s goin’ back ter that empty place gets me,’ he said, taking up another glass to polish.

  The attractive landlady came up close to him and leaned on the counter, her full breasts prominent beneath the tight blouse she was wearing. ‘Yer don’t necessarily ’ave ter be alone ter feel lonely, Billy,’ she said quietly. ‘I get that feelin’ sometimes.’

  Billy held the polished glass up to the light to inspect it. ‘It’s the quietness that gets ter me,’ he replied.

  Patricia straightened up and spent a long time tucking her blouse into her tight skirt, still standing close to him. ‘It wasn’t always like it, wiv me,’ she went on. ‘Terry was a lovely feller at one time. I blame the pub life. Yer both workin’ tergevver all the time an’ it gets borin’.’

  Billy was glad when Maurice came to the counter for a round of drinks, but after looking into the saloon bar, Patricia soon came back. ‘There’s only two sittin’ in there by the fire an’ they’ve only bought one drink each,’ she told him.

  ‘Is Terry likely ter be back late?’ Billy asked innocently, knowing that Patricia had become nervous of being alone in the pub.

  ‘’E might be,’ she told him. ‘ ’E’s playin’ darts wiv a few of’is pals. Yer’ll ’ang on till ’e gets back, won’t yer, Billy?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s no rush,’ he replied. ‘I can ’ave a tidy-up while I’m waitin’.’

  Patricia laid her hand on his forearm. ‘I do appreciate it,’ she said smiling sweetly at him. ‘Since that trouble I’m scared o’ bein’ left wiv no one ’ere.’

  He moved away, taking up another glass to hide his discomfort and vigorously polishing it. ‘I don’t fink yer need worry,’ he said reassuringly. ‘If there was gonna be any comeback it would ’ave ’appened before now.’

  ‘Yer don’t know the ’alf of it, Billy,’ Patricia sighed.

  ‘Do I need ter know?’ he queried.

  ‘Yeah, I fink yer should,’ she replied. ‘Look, we can talk over a cuppa when we’ve closed up, if yer like.’

  The domino players had become rowdy again and Maurice seemed to be at the centre of the altercation. ‘I didn’t see yer’and,’ he was insisting. ‘Honest, Tom, I wouldn’t do such a fing. Gawd ’elp us, mate, I’ve got the beatin’ o’ you lot wivout resortin’ ter cheatin’.’

  Charlie started shouting and Bert joined in with arms waving.

  ‘Right, you lot. If yer don’t shut up I’m gonna chuck the lot o’ yer out, d’yer ’ ear me?’ Billy growled menacingly.

  Tom gave him a doe-eyed stare and Maurice looked pained. Charlie stood up and buttoned up his tatty overcoat. ‘I’m orf’ome,’ he said offhandedly. ‘Bloody cheatin’ spoils a game.’

  Time was called and the few remaining customers drifted home. There was very little clearing up to do and while Billy swept the bar, Patricia went into the back room to make the tea.

  ‘Look, Billy,’ she began as the two of them sat in front of the dying fire in the saloon bar. ‘I don’t want yer ter say anyfing ter Terry about what I’m gonna tell yer. Is that a promise?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a promise,’ he replied, wondering what new intrigues he was going to discover.

  ‘Well, yer know those two smartly dressed blokes that’s bin in ’ere a few times lately? Well, they’re ’tecs.’

  Billy raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘A few times?’ he queried. ‘I’ve only seen ’em once.’

  Patricia nodded. ‘They’ve bin back. They come in the saloon bar now an’ again.’

  When he first saw the two strangers Billy had taken them to be old acquaintances of Terry’s, from the criminal fraternity. Later, when Terry was chatting comfortably with them, he had wondered whether it was something to do with what had happened back in September. Billy was soon proved right on one count.

  ‘It’s all ter do wiv the McKenzies,’ Patricia went on. ‘It seems that there’s bin a lot o’ trouble flarin’ up again at the Elephant an’ Castle.’

  ‘Terry told me all about those Jocks,’ Billy cut in.

  ‘Not all,’ she corrected him. ‘It seems that Dougal McKenzie’s not runnin’ the gang any more. Dougal’s card’s bin marked, as they say. ’E’s got a police record an’ they’re watchin’’im closely. Besides, ’e’s gettin’ a bit too old now. It’s Bruce, the youngest bruvver. ’E’s the danger now. Bruce McKenzie ’asn’t got a record an’ ’e’s a lot younger than Dougal. What’s more, Terry was told by those two ’tecs that ’e’s got a powerful team o’ villains tergevver. They’re be’ind most o’ the trouble in the Elephant an’ Castle area.’

  ‘But what do those two coppers want wiv Terry?’ Billy asked, looking puzzled. ‘Are they tryin’ ter force ’im ter press charges against those two monkeys who set
about ’im?’

  Patricia smiled mirthlessly. ‘Listen, Billy,’ she said, looking at him wide-eyed. ‘Those two coppers are not ordinary ’tecs, they’re top coppers. They’re inspectors, I fink. They’re well pleased that Terry’s not pressin’ charges, ’cos it suits their plans.’

  Billy shook his head. ‘I don’t foller yer.’

  Patricia leaned forward in her chair. ‘Bruce McKenzie must be about thirty or so now, but when Terry was involved wiv the gang ’e was just a kid. ’E idolised Terry an’ ’e did ’is best ter stop ’im gettin’ beaten up when ’e left the gang fer me. I reckon that if it wasn’t fer Bruce my bloke would ’ave bin killed. Now d’yer see the link?’

  Billy shook his head. ‘Look, I’m not exactly stupid, but it’s all beyond me, Pat,’ he said sighing.

  She smiled indulgently. ‘Terry’s not gonna press charges against those two villains that beat ’im up, so when they come up before the beak they’re on their own. Dougal McKenzie won’t be involved, even though it was ’im that paid the two of’em ter sort Terry out.’

  ‘’Ow d’yer know fer sure ’e was be’ind it?’ Billy asked.

  ‘The coppers told Terry. They got the word from one o’ their grasses,’ Patricia explained. ‘Now, Bruce is gonna be pleased that ’is bruvver’s in the clear, an’ ’e knows perfectly well that it’s down ter Terry.’

  ‘’Ang on a minute,’ Billy cut in. ‘I fink the penny’s jus’ dropped. Those two coppers want Terry ter renew old acquaintances wiv Bruce an’ then once ’e’s got in wiv ’im again they’ll use ’im as a grass.’

  Patricia smiled. ‘Yer got it,’ she said.

  ‘There’s one fing not right though,’ Billy went on. ‘What about Dougal? ’E’s obviously still bearin’ a grudge, or ’e wouldn’t ’ave sent those two bruisers after Terry. Won’t ’e ’ave somefink ter say about ’im comin’ back inter the fold?’

  ‘From what those coppers told Terry, there’s bad blood between the two bruvvers,’ she explained. ‘Dougal feels ’e’s bin shoved aside, so it’s not likely that Bruce is gonna take any notice o’ what ’e ses.’

  ‘’Ow does Terry feel about all this? If it was me I’d tell ’em ter piss orf,’ Billy said firmly. ‘It’s too risky. If the mob found out Terry was a plant they do ’im in fer sure.’

  ‘Don’t yer fink I know that?’ Patricia said with passion. ‘The tragedy is, Terry’s got no choice.’

  ‘’Ave they got somefink on ’im, then?’ Billy asked, already knowing the answer.

  She nodded slowly, and for the first time since they sat down to talk she seemed not to be fully in control. Tears started to well up in her eyes. ‘It was down ter me, really,’ she said quietly. ‘When we were in the pub in Walworth there was a lot o’ crooked stuff goin’ around. It was me that encouraged Terry ter get involved. We were buyin’ an’ sellin’ a lot o’ bent gear, then one day we got some ladies’ fur coats. They’d bin nicked from a ware’ouse over in the City. They were too ’ot fer us to ’andle really, but we took a chance. Yer can call it greed an’ I s’pose it was. Anyway, we got tumbled wiv’em an’ it looked like Terry was in fer a stretch, but that’s when those two coppers came on the scene. Fer certain information they let Terry off. They even let ’im sell the couple o’ coats ’e ’ad left so as not ter cast suspicion on ’im when they collared the gang that was nickin’ all the stuff.’

  ‘So Terry was forced ter grass on the gang then?’ Billy said.

  Patricia nodded sadly. ‘Trouble is, they won’t leave ’im alone,’ she sighed. ‘If ’e tells ’em ter piss orf like yer said they’ll put the word about ter the villains that it was Terry that grassed’em. ’Ow long would ’e last then?’

  ‘What a mess,’ Billy said sympathetically.

  Suddenly Patricia dropped her head into her hands and wept. Billy stood up and leaned over her, patting her back comfortingly, then she was on her feet and in his arms, her head buried in his chest.

  ‘Look, there might be somefink we can do,’ Billy told her softly. ‘Yer mustn’t give up.’

  She looked up at him with tears staining her cheeks, then suddenly her arms went round his neck and her lips found his.

  Billy was startled, but the feel of her warm body against his and the softness of her lips was overpowering and he pulled her tightly to him. She was breathing faster now, and anxious pangs of guilt pierced Billy’s mind as he felt her rubbing against him. With a sudden movement he gripped the top of her arms tightly and pushed her back from him. ‘Terry’s gonna be comin’ in at any minute,’ he gasped.

  Patricia let herself go limp in his grasp and her hand came up to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry, Billy,’ she said sighing. ‘I got carried away.’

  ‘Yeah, so did I,’ he said, moving away from her. ‘This can only bring us a lot o’ trouble.’

  She did not answer him, she just sat down heavily in a chair and looked up at him with wide eyes.

  ‘Look, Pat, I want yer to understand that yer can count on me fer any ’elp I can give,’ Billy said reassuringly, ‘but yer gotta realise that unless Terry stands up ter those coppers they’re gonna walk all over ’im. ’E’ll ’ave ter call their bluff sooner or later. Maybe they won’t carry out their threat.’

  ‘Yeah, an’ maybe they will,’ Patricia replied.

  ‘What about Terry seein’ a good solicitor?’ he suggested.

  ‘I’ve already talked to ’im about gettin’ a solicitor,’ she told him, ‘but ’e don’t seem too keen on the idea.’

  There was no more time to talk, for they heard a key going into the lock and in a few moments Terry walked in. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he said. ‘I was on a winnin’ streak. ’As it bin quiet?’

  Patricia nodded and gave him a wan smile. ‘Billy’s swept the bar up, it’ll save a job termorrer, an’ I’ve bin busy sortin’ out the optics,’ she lied.

  Terry watched as Billy put on his coat and made for the side door. ‘Fanks fer ’angin’ on. See yer termorrer,’ he said.

  As soon as his barman had left, Terry turned to Patricia. ‘I’ve made arrangements ter see Bruce McKenzie,’ he said flatly, sitting down heavily in a chair.

  Patricia looked at him with fear showing in her eyes. ‘Fer Gawd’s sake be careful, Terry,’ she implored him. ‘Yer gonna get in so deep the only way yer gonna get out is in yer box.’

  He laughed cynically. ‘Don’t worry, Pat, I’m gonna lay it on the line ter McKenzie. Maybe we can work somefing out between us.’

  She sighed deeply. ‘Yer can’t tell Bruce what the coppers’ave got on yer, can yer?’ she said. ‘It seems ter me it’s playin’ two ends against the middle, an’ your the one who’s gonna be squashed.’

  Terry laughed. ‘I can’t fink about it ternight. Let’s get ter bed, Pat. Don’t ferget we’ve still got a pub ter run.’

  Josiah Dawson put on his coat and hat, slipped on his ARP armband and took up his gas-mask case and helmet. ‘Well, I’m orf, Doll. Shan’t be too late,’ he told her.

  Dolly looked up from her sewing. ‘Don’t ferget yer gotta be up early fer work, luv,’ she reminded him.

  Josiah nodded dutifully and let himself out of the house. It was dark in the street, with the moon obscured by heavy clouds, and as he made his way towards the elbow of the turning he saw a chink of light showing from one of the houses to his left. Josiah thought about his scant training. The first step was to call out in a loud voice for the culprit to ‘Put that light out’. If that did not do the trick then the second step was to knock at the door and remind the tenant that he or she was breaking the blackout regulations. And if that did not work, the police had to be called.

  Josiah felt that he was rapidly earning the respect and friendship of the Page Street folk and was loath to do anything that would upset the delicate balance, but he knew very well that he had an important job to do and he was determined to carry it out to the best of his ability.

  His gentle tap on the front door brought no response, and the street’
s warden wondered whether he was correct in forgoing the first step. His second and louder knock brought a rapid response, however; the door was flung open and he found himself being glared at by a somewhat ruffled tenant.

  ‘What the bleedin’ ’ell d’yer want at this time o’ night?’ Maurice Salter growled. ‘Piss orf.’

  Normally that sort of attitude would have landed someone in hot water, or rather on his back with a sore jaw, but Josiah was determined to be a model warden. ‘I’m sorry, Maurice, but there’s a chink o’ light showin’ frew the winder,’ he said meekly.

  Maurice drew breath. He suddenly realised that it was Josiah Dawson, and he had been taking a chance addressing him in that fashion. He had heard much about the man’s past life and his quick temper. Maurice was a proud man, however, and he eased himself out of the dangerous situation by blinking once or twice and stroking his chin. ‘Well, I don’t know ’ow that’s come about,’ he replied. ‘My Brenda got the blackout down the market an’ the bloke on the stall told ’er it was best quality. In fact ’e said it was the same stuff they’ve got up in Buckin’am Palace.’