“I mean it. I can bring you in to help decipher evidence and the like but I can’t have you intimidating information out of people, it wouldn’t stand up. I have to keep things above board.”
“Really?” Midnight’s eyebrow arched reproachfully.
“As much as I’m able, yes!”
Midnight cocked his head in mock contemplation
“Oh bugger off man! You know what I mean.”
“Oh yes, Arthur. I’m quite sure I do.”
Arthur stomped off in a huff with a brooding Midnight following along behind. Together they made their way back through the cobbled streets of Limehouse to one of the most notorious opium hangouts- ‘Wong’s Emporium’. It doubled as a legitimate Chinese tea shop; selling traditional, imported teas and spices as well as teapots and cups, oriental statues, fans and paintings. Below, in the basement was the opium den. It was outside, just on the opposite corner in a darkening alley that Gredge and Gunn waited.
As late afternoon turned to early evening, the light dimmed, the shadows lengthened and Wong’s Emporium now displayed a ‘CLOSED’ sign in its window. But that hadn’t stopped one or two patrons from entering the shop via the basement door, which was situated below street level at the bottom of a small flight of stone steps. They’d watched a few Chinese fellows enter and a pair of Lascars- Indian sailors that crewed European ships- but Arthur felt that they wouldn’t get the right answers from them. They needed…
“Him!” Gredge pointed towards a skinny-looking man in a worn day suit and bowler hat. The man looked nervous, he practically scurried down the street with his coat collar up and hat tipped down and every so often he’d glance around quickly as if to check he wasn’t being followed. He had something tucked into his coat which he cradled with his arm.
“Shifty looking bleeder if ever I saw one.”
“Shall we?” Midnight said and glided out of the alley towards the unsuspecting fellow.
“Good evening to you.” Midnight greeted the man and stood directly in front of him, blocking his path. At first the man jumped at the sudden appearance and eyed him warily but then seemed to soften as his took in Midnight’s quality attire. This was clearly a gentleman and not some robber or blackguard. He cleared his throat.
“Good evening to you too, Sir.” and made to step around. Midnight held out a hand appealingly.
“Might I trouble you a moment? You look like a helpful chap.”
The man looked left and right but made no further attempt to move.
“What is it?”
“I’m looking for a particular establishment. One where a person might find some…relief.” The man frowned but Midnight continued, “I’m sure you know what I’m referring to,” He pointed towards the tea shop behind him, “I’ve seen one or two good gentlemen like yourself frequenting this establishment here and I wonder if it might be just the sort of place I’m looking for. That is where you were heading, am I correct?”
“I er, work for Mr. Wong yes,” he replied and tightened his arm around whatever was stuffed under his coat. Midnight regarded him with steely aplomb, the look caused the man to take a step backwards and Gunn heard a loud cough from the alley where Gredge stood.
“Then you know exactly what I’m in need of?”
“Might I ask where you heard of Mr. Wong’s, Sir?”
“Ah well, a good friend of mine gave me this,” Midnight pulled out the wooden opium box that belonged to Emeline Rowbotham. “I was told to look for the dragon you see and well, Mr. Wong has a dragon on his shop sign.”
“Most Chinese shops have dragons on their signs.” The man was starting to get suspicious, he shifted nervously on his feet. “This ain’t the place you’re looking for. Wong just sells teas and the like is all. Sorry, I can’t help you.” And the man made to go around Midnight but was blocked by the sudden appearance of Inspector Gredge.
“Perhaps you can help me then, down at the station?”
“Oh buggering ‘ell! I should’ve known you were a copper.” He gave Midnight a reproachful glare.
“Oh I’m not, I’m just a citizen in need of directions. And you,” he stepped closer to the man, “are going to help us.”
“I already told you, I don’t know what you mean!”
“What’s in your coat?” Gredge asked and the man put his free hand over the bulge protectively.
“Nothin! It’s personal.”
“Well then if it’s nothing you won’t mind showing it to me eh?”
Reluctantly the man edged open his coat to reveal a velvet drawstring bag. It jangled as he moved.
“It’s just some money I need to give to my employer is all. Takings…from the tea shop.” He added quickly.
“From this tea shop?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, I see and why would you be taking the takings back to the shop they supposedly came from?”
The man thought on his feet and answered,
“Banks closed init. It was a last-minute bank run but I got delayed so I’m bringing them back.” He nodded, clearly pleased with his fast thinking.
“The shop has been closed for over an hour,” Gredge pointed out, “How were you planning on bringing them back?”
“Um,” Midnight could fair hear the cogs grinding in the man’s brain as he tried to think of an answer that would suit but couldn't.
“Where’s the money from? You can either tell me here or back at the station, choice is yours.” Said Gredge.
“Oh come on guv! I only do this to make extra for my family. I work down the docks as a clerk but it’s poor wages and I got five kids to feed!”
“Better not let those five kids see their father in jail then eh?”
“I ain’t done nothin’ wrong! It’s just money runs is all. If Wong finds out I spoke to the rozzers I’ll lose this job.”
“Tell me where the money is from and I’ll leave you be.”
The man looked rapidly from Gredge to Gunn and back again, chewing his bottom lip,
“Fine! Wong’s got another place, nothing like this one, up in Soho- ‘The Rainbow Room’.”
“Rainbow? That’s an assembly hall!” Gredge declared. “Wong owns assembly rooms?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. There’s rooms upstairs for posh folk, like him. Wong doesn’t own the whole thing, just the room upstairs.” He nodded towards Midnight. “It’s run by Chinese Mary but you’ll need the password to get in.”
“And that is?” Midnight asked.
“What’s it worth?”
“Do you like prison food?” Gredge said, his tone full of impatience. The man mulled over his options. He realised they would not let him alone until he gave them what they wanted. The clock was ticking and Wong would be expecting his package; he wouldn’t be pleased if he was late. “That box of yours, show them that and give them the word ‘Jiang’, that’ll get you in.”
“Of course!” Midnight said, “Jiang is a double-headed dragon in Chinese mythology, it means rainbow, like the rainbow serpent.”
“I dunno guv, I just know that’s the password.”
They let the man scurry off down the stone steps to Wong’s basement and made their way to the nearest omnibus route that would take them to Soho.
Much to their disappointment the bus was a knifeboard and all the interior seats were taken. Midnight and Gredge hauled themselves up the iron rungs at the back of the carriage and onto the long bench on the roof. The three horses plodded along at a steady pace until they pulled up not far from where The Rainbow Room dominated the skyline on the south corner of Sutton Street and Soho Square. It was a grand building with arched windows and stone steps that led to black front door with a brass knocker. It looked more like a private house than an assembly room but for the small brass plaque on the door with the word ‘Rainbow Rooms’ engraved on it.
Gredge knocked and moments later the door opened and they were admitted to a small front parlour that acted as a kind of reception-come- sorting area. A smartly dressed
clerk greeted them
“Good evening Sirs, are you on the list?”
Gredge and Gunn looked at each other enquiringly,
“List?” said Midnight.
“Yes Sir, the guest list.”
“I was under the impression these were public assembly rooms, is this a private event?”
“The rooms are open to the public Sir yes but one must apply for a season ticket to gain entry you see. I’m afraid if you don’t have a ticket well…” he shrugged apologetically. Midnight fished out the carved box and flashed it at the clerk,
“Will this do for a ticket?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is Sir.” he replied, his face the perfect picture of ignorance. “You can apply for membership if you would like to do so?” The clerk fished out a form and offered it to Midnight who shook his head politely and turned and backed away to speak to his colleague quietly.
“Now what?”
“I don’t know,” Gredge shrugged, “it’s not like I’ve ever been to one of these shindigs before.”
“Neither have I!”
“I suppose I’ll have to tell the clerk I’m on official police business then. Though I’d sooner not have to leave you behind, I feel like a fish out of water amongst all these aristocrats. What about the box?”
“No, he wasn’t lying,” Midnight said, nodding towards the busy clerk who kept intermittently looking at them over his half-moon glasses, “he really has no idea what it is. Not to put a damper on things Arthur, but I’d rather not have to register for a damned season ticket. This scene isn’t my sort of thing.”
“Ah! So, London’s biggest mystery has revealed himself at last eh?” A booming voice bellowed all too close to Midnight’s ear. He turned towards it and was greeted by a hearty clap on the shoulder from a bloated, toad-faced gentleman with greying hair wearing an evening suit that was clearly too small for his over-stuffed frame. Midnight was irked by the sudden intrusion but plastered a polite smile on his face nonetheless. “Aubery Rudemiester,” the toad said and held out his hand. Midnight shook it briefly while Rudemiester continued, “yes, we were all extremely surprised by your fortuitous auction win! Quite the talk of London you are Sir. Mr. Gunn isn’t it?”
The question took Midnight by surprise, he hadn’t met this man before yet he seemed to know who he was.
“Yes, yes it is. Midnight Gunn. I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage Mr. Rudemiester for you seem to know me but I believe we are not yet acquainted? Am I mistaken?”
“No no. You are correct in your assumptions dear boy. We are not yet acquainted but I did know your father somewhat. Very sad his passing, very sad indeed. Tragic. No, you see you caused quite the stir in the auction house, not many can say they took on the East India Company and won! People wanted to know who you were but of course…all secret and the like eh? Eh” Aubery Rudemiester chortled and winked. “I knew. Took me a while but I got it in the end. Recognised the chap who sat with you I did!”
Midnight looked at Arthur who just shrugged. Aubery laughed brash and loud.
“Good heavens no! Not this one, don’t know who he is. Your butler! Gerald or something, isn’t it?”
“Giles” Midnight corrected.
“That’s the fellow! Giles, very efficient yes. Always accompanied your father…towards the end. Highly unusual having a butler accompany a master during a business transaction of course, quite eccentric really.” He shook his head in a disapproving manner which made Midnight’s annoyance turn almost menacing in defence of his father and Giles but he managed to hold it in after a swift kick on the shin from Gredge. The shadows on the parlour walls immediately receded. Midnight didn’t trust himself to speak so after a moment of awkward silence, that Rudemiester seemed blatantly unaware of, it was Arthur that broke it,
“Are you going in then? To the ball?”
He was rewarded with a look of clumsily guarded disdain before Rudemiester remembered his manners and replied,
“Indeed yes, er…Mister?”
“Detective Inspector Gredge.”
“Oh! Oh my, well that would explain it then. Ha! Good lord I thought he was your driver or something.” Rudemiester directed his comment at Midnight who did not reply but barely managed not to glare at his ill-mannered company. “Yes, I am attending the ball tonight, always do, every Wednesday throughout the season. Alas my good wife couldn’t make it tonight she is feeling unwell but my daughter is here somewhere,” he paused to look, “I say, I heard the clerk fellow say that you were not on the guest list, am I right?”
“Unfortunately yes. I am not usually one for social gatherings.”
“Indeed, indeed. In light of my dear wife’s absence, I could have you accompany me as my guest? Of course, I couldn’t really take your companion. Not proper you know.” He indicated apologetically at Gredge’s clear lack of suitable evening attire.
“No need to worry Sir, I’m conducting an investigation. I won’t need an invitation.” Gredge’s reply was polite but curt. The toad nodded but continued to look doubtful. Most of the upper classes regarded the police as not much better than a common clerk. The lower classes mostly hated them. As high ranking as a Detective Inspector was, he might still have a hard time gaining entry to the exclusive event.
“You go with Mr. Rudemiester and I’ll see you inside.” Gredge instructed Midnight, who nodded.
“If you’re sure Arthur?”
“Of course, go ahead. I’ll go have a little word with the clerk. It’s probably best if we’re not seen together anyway.”
Rudemiester clapped Midnight on the back and guided him enthusiastically into the corridor that lead to the large assembly rooms. Gredge smirked, knowing full well that his friend would be cringing at the brashness of his new companion. If there was one thing Midnight hated, it was to be the centre of attention.
Midnight had endured the introductions to various members of London’s wealthiest families as best he could. But he could stomach the polite conversation and simpering duality no longer. Gredge had not appeared and so he made his excuses to Rudemiester and went in search of the Inspector. He made his way around the room, deftly avoiding anyone who looked vaguely interested in starting a conversation with him, and spotted Gredge standing in a corner near a very big potted cheese plant looking vexed.
“There you are! What on earth are you wearing?”
“I should’ve thought that obvious.” Gredge replied in a clipped tone. Midnight covered his mouth to hide a grin. “It’s not funny! I feel ridiculous.” Gredge fidgeted, pulling angrily at the sleeves on an overly large evening jacket which in turn caused the top hat he now sported, instead of his usual bowler, to topple sideways.
“It’s rather a poor attempt at a disguise Arthur, I must say.”
“Bloody clubs and their bloody dress codes! I had to borrow this garb from the lost property room. It seems the clerk was concerned that having a plain-clothed policeman in plain sight would upset the guests! Wouldn’t want that now would we,” he added, the sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
“Are you going to stop hiding behind this poor plant? I think the sight of you is causing it to wilt.”
“Funny.” Gredge gave Midnight a scathing look and edged out from the corner. “Are you ready to find this bloody secret club then or what?”
“Of course, the stairs leading to the upper floors are to the right. From what I can gather, this used to be residential but the interior has been converted and altered quite a bit. There’s another smaller room through that archway that is only accessed via a bridge.”
“A bridge in a house?”
“I know, it’s quite vulgar. Much like many of the guests it seems.”
“Quite the social snob aren’t you!” Gredge scoffed.
“I abhor these types of gatherings Arthur. Nothing but an excuse to posture and flaunt one’s wealth and social standing.”
“Would’ve thought you would need to mingle occasionally to maintain your father’s bu
siness connections?”
“I prefer to conduct my business matters on a one to one basis and usually through my lawyer. I admit I do rely on Father’s good name probably more than I should and thus far it has worked. I blame you entirely for exposing me in this highly audacious manner. I’ve already had to suffer several invitations to dinner of which I have no intention of attending.”
“Why is it my fault? You’re as invested as I in this investigation! You need to venture out of the woodwork now and again. People will think you’re a ghost.”
“I’d prefer it if they did. Now, let’s get on with this before some unfortunate lady solicits a dance!”
They left the noise and throng of the ground floor gathering and made their way as inconspicuously up the staircase as they could. One or two gentlemen passed them on their way down with a knowing nod. The stairs took them past the first floor, where the men’s restroom and ladies powder rooms were, to the second where they alighted onto a darkened landing. Most of the windows had heavy velvet curtains drawn across shutting out the view of the street below. The music and chatter from beneath them fell behind as they made their way along the corridor. There were no hall tables or occasional chairs, no furnishings or wall decorations of any kind. It was designed to make any wandering guests think it a redundant space and not worth further investigation. The walls were drab with peeling paint, faded wallpaper and dusty runners on the floor. There were no exposed doors to speak of but more heavy velvet curtains hung over the suggestion of what looked to be a wide frame set at the far end of the passage. Midnight grasped the cloth and tugged it aside exposing a rather plain-looking door.
“Shall we?” Midnight indicated to Arthur to open the door
“Isn’t there a secret knock or something? There usually is.” Arthur replied in droll tones.
“Probably but we have the key!” said Midnight as he patted the pocket of his evening coat where the small wooden box lay. Arthur’s mouth skewed at the side as he rapped loudly twice on the door…nothing happened. He knocked again and they heard shuffling on the other side but still nobody opened it. Arthur ran his hand over the top half of the door and found a small spy hole. The darkness of the corridor made it almost impossible to see but it was there.
The Hollows: A Midnight Gunn Novel Page 7
