The Fight for Lizzie Flowers

by Carol Rivers

  ‘Depends what it is,’ Syd muttered and gave her a suspicious frown.

  ‘I hope this doesn’t offend you as we haven’t seen eye to eye of late.’

  ‘You could say that.’

  Lizzie gathered her courage. She didn’t know what she’d done to offend Syd. But it was clear by his answer that somehow she had. ‘Syd, on the day you were married, I saw Walter wearing Frank’s watch. I wondered where he got it from.’

  Syd’s face went a beetroot red. ‘Are you accusing my brother of stealing?’

  ‘No, course not, but—’

  ‘It sounds like it.’

  ‘Syd, I recognized the watch. It had a big face with large numbers and it went missing when—’

  Syd stood up, spilling his beer over his suit and some over Lizzie. ‘Now look what’s happened!’ He brushed the froth from his jacket. ‘If I ruin this suit it will be down to you,’ he muttered under his breath, and charging from the room he made a swift exit.

  Lizzie sat with her mouth open. When she turned round, the conversation had stopped. Everyone was staring at her.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Danny asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Flo said, struggling to her feet. ‘What made him storm off like that?’

  ‘Don’t know.’ Lizzie felt embarrassed. She couldn’t repeat the conversation she’d just had with Syd.

  ‘You must have said something to upset him.’

  Lizzie fell silent as Lil came rushing in.

  ‘What the bleeding hell is going on with your husband?’ she demanded of Flo. ‘Syd just pushed past me, went out the back and slammed the door in my face.’

  Flo hurried past Lil. A second later, there was another thump from the back door.

  No one commented but, when Lil attempted to refill the glasses, everyone shook their heads.

  Now it really was time to leave, Lizzie decided. ‘I think it’s time me and Pol went.’

  ‘I’ll run you back,’ Danny said, collecting his jacket from the chair. As he put it on, there was a knock at the front door. He went to answer it.

  When he returned he was with Cal. Cal’s face and hands were smeared with dirt. His smelled of smoke and his overalls were black. ‘It ain’t good news,’ Danny said. ‘The garage has been torched.’

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Danny looked at Cal. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I was in the workshop when I heard an explosion. I downed tools and ran up to the garage. The stink of petrol was everywhere. Next the staircase was on fire. I had to think quick, so I chucked the boards back over the cellar. But then the van you brought in for sale – the one we was about to do up, caught light. I had to make a run for it. Before I got a few yards I was blown off me feet.’

  ‘Are you all right, son?’ Doug asked in concern. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, just fuming, Doug, that I couldn’t get my hands on Savage.’

  ‘How do you know he did it?’ Danny asked.

  ‘Robert and Phil, two of the river men, dragged me out of the garage. If it hadn’t been for them I wouldn’t be here now. They told me they saw Savage parked in his Daimler while his men did the dirty work.’

  ‘Would they swear to that?’

  ‘To you they would. But not the cops.’

  ‘What about the Nissen hut and all our spares?’

  Cal just shook his head. ‘I left the firemen hosing it down.’

  ‘So what’s left?’

  ‘Of the garage? Just a load of muck and mangled iron.’

  ‘And the workshop?’

  ‘It’s anyone’s guess. We won’t know till the firemen have finished.’

  ‘What about your motor?’ Doug asked.

  Cal shrugged. ‘It was parked on the forecourt and I managed to drive it onto the road before it got—’ He stopped and began to cough. Lil dragged him into the parlour and pushed him down onto the settee. She went to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. Cal drank thirstily, looking up at everyone with white-rimmed eyes under the smudges of black. ‘We’ve lost the warehouse, Danny. Savage made sure he did a good job this time.’

  Lizzie saw Danny’s face fill with anger. He strode towards the door but Doug jumped up and barred his way. ‘Danny, where are you going?’

  ‘Over to Aldgate and his so-called office.’

  ‘Don’t lose your rag. This is what he wants.’

  ‘Out of me way, Doug.’

  ‘Think, boy! Think!’ Doug exclaimed, refusing to let him pass. ‘You’re walking straight into trouble.’

  ‘You and I know, Doug, I have to settle this once and for all. He’s stolen my livelihood. All I worked for in Aussie. And it won’t stop with me, will it? He’ll move in on all the traders. Someone’s got to make a stand.’

  ‘I’m with Danny.’ Bert spoke for the first time, standing up and going to Danny’s side. ‘We can’t let him push us around.’

  ‘He needs sorting,’ Cal agreed with Bert. ‘There’s three of us and we can take them if we’re canny.’

  ‘Just hold on!’ Lizzie poked Bert in the chest. ‘Didn’t you listen to what Doug had to say? Leonard Savage is streets ahead of your thinking. He knows you’ll go after him. That’s just what he’s waiting for. What can three of you do, unarmed, against his men?’

  Danny smiled without humour. ‘I should have done what Frank did, not had a go at him for using Dad’s shooter. After today I see he was bang within his rights. The East End is being carved up and us with it if we can’t defend ourselves.’

  ‘It’s a bit late in the day to side with your brother,’ Lizzie retorted angrily. ‘Use your brains instead and ask yourself why he torched the garage.’

  ‘Obvious, ain’t it, he wanted my gaff.’

  ‘Well, then, why burn it?’ Lizzie demanded. ‘The truth is he didn’t want the garage. If he did he’d never have burned down a place that was of use to him. He lied blatantly to you. The garage isn’t the issue. It’s the land.’

  Danny’s frown deepened. ‘But it’s wasteland. In winter it floods, in summer it’s just baked gravel, dust and weeds.’

  ‘Lizzie’s right, Danny,’ Doug agreed quickly. ‘The land must have a value to Savage. He never wanted the garage in the first place.’

  ‘He still torched my property,’ Danny said angrily. ‘I can’t let him get away with that.’

  ‘Playing into his hands won’t help.’

  ‘So what’s your suggestion?’ Danny couldn’t hide the contempt in his voice. ‘Go back to working a barrow?’

  ‘Course not,’ Doug broke in before Lizzie could respond. ‘You’ll set up again, like Lizzie did. Put your grievance aside for the moment. Go to the garage and suss out the damage. It might not be as bad as you think.’

  Lizzie slipped her bag over her shoulder and turned to Lil. ‘Can you look after Tom and Polly, till we get back?’

  ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘I’m going with Danny.’

  ‘I don’t need a nursemaid,’ Danny said bitterly.

  ‘This ain’t just about you, Danny. Like you said, it could be any of us traders next time.’

  A fact which, Lizzie knew, no one would argue with.

  ‘No insurance?’ the chief repeated as he looped one of the long hoses over his shoulder and paused. ‘Then you’ve got a problem, chum.’

  ‘I ran it as a garage, not a warehouse,’ Danny replied as he stared at the remains: heaps of twisted debris lit up every now and then by bursts of flames, to be swiftly doused with water by the firemen.

  ‘You should have thought more seriously about where to open your business.’

  ‘This was my only option.’ Danny stared at the blackened steel girders of the warehouse and the empty space where once his office had been. ‘The warehouse had height and space enough to service the bigger lorries. Plus a small cellar we used as the workshop.’ His gaze travelled slowly to the ash-covered pile under which the cellar was buried. ‘Do you know if there
’s anything salvageable down there?’

  ‘No idea. You can see for yourself there’s a mountain of rubbish on top of it.’

  ‘When can I get in there to clear it?’

  ‘Not till tomorrow at the earliest.’ The fireman tipped back his helmet. ‘Got any idea how it started?’

  ‘That’s what I’d like to know.’

  ‘Petrol’s lethal. So’s rubber. A single match or spark could’ve done this. Or a dog-end. Your mate didn’t seem to have much to say for himself He nodded at Cal.

  ‘I can tell you for certain my mechanic’s not careless enough to start a fire.’

  ‘He was lucky he wasn’t fried down in that cellar.’

  Danny was silent, considering his response. Doug and Lizzie had talked some sense into him, but this was hard to swallow. He knew very well it was Savage, but what proof did he have? The river people wouldn’t back him. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be believed by the coppers who had as much respect for the homeless contingent and their plight as the ex-bargees had for them. But, all the same, this was the time to make his point, if he was going to make it at all.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere near the area today,’ the fireman warned. ‘There’s no beams left to fall as the wood went up first with the stairs. But the metals are as hot as a furnace. And one thing more, the Poplar Constabulary was here but another copper came along. Plain-clothes. He’s over there.’ He nodded to the wharf wall. ‘You could take it as a bit of luck you aren’t insured and not claiming. Else it all might look a bit iffy to him.’

  Danny watched the fireman return to his large red vehicle with its extendable ladders and hoses threaded out through the wet ash. Slowly he turned and fixed his gaze on Detective Inspector Bray.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded as he walked over, noting the detective’s smug expression. ‘Come to gloat?’

  ‘Couldn’t help but notice you had a bit of trouble,’ Bray said easily. ‘I saw the smoke and wondered if it was you.’

  ‘So now you know.’

  ‘You had a little accident?’ Bray said softly, pulling down the brim of his trilby.

  ‘Don’t know how it happened,’ Danny said shortly.

  ‘Curiouser and curiouser.’

  ‘Sod off, Bray.’

  ‘I can see you have full confidence in the arm of the law.’ Bray laughed with genuine amusement. He stood up, squaring his shoulders under his grubby raincoat. ‘You’ve got to admit, it’s been busy around here, lately. A hit and run – or an accident – or was it something else? A burning building – a case of arson – or could it be more? Like, how much was you insured for?’

  Danny stared into Bray’s eyes and smiled. ‘I wasn’t.’

  Bray looked surprised. ‘So you’re not collecting?’

  ‘No. Sorry to disappoint you.’

  Bray’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, you never do that, Flowers. You always come up with a Brahma.’

  Danny watched the policeman turn and walk slowly through a small crowd of onlookers. The acrid smell of rubber from the burning tyres hung heavily in the air while a thin plume of smoke twisted above their heads. The heat still radiated from the wreckage and he stared at the firemen hauling in the long hoses that had emptied thousands of gallons of water over the burning warehouse. A lake of evil-smelling grey muck squelched against the firemen’s boots. Some still wore their breathing apparatus as they worked to douse the glowing metal remains of the van. Was there anything to be salvaged under that lot? It didn’t seem likely.

  The only thing he could draw comfort from was that he’d had no Port of London Authority lorries in for repair. The last ten-tonner had been returned yesterday. And his own wheels, the roadster, might well have been incinerated too, if he hadn’t stopped by Lil’s.

  ‘What did Bray want?’ Lizzie asked as she joined him.

  ‘He’d like to nab me for an insurance job.’ He turned to look down at her.

  ‘Did you have any?’

  ‘No. I was meaning to shop around. Try to get some cover. But I have to admit the fireman was right. This place was never meant for a garage.’

  ‘Danny, if you need—’

  ‘No, I don’t, thanks.’ He wasn’t about to admit to being brassic, though God only knew what he was going to do now.

  ‘Is there anything we can salvage?’ Bert asked as he and Cal walked slowly towards them.

  ‘Can’t go in till tomorrow. But I doubt it.’ Danny pushed his hand through his hair. He was trying to put aside his anger, but all he could see was Savage’s ugly mug looming up in front of him. ‘You’ll regret this,’ Savage had warned on the day he’d tried to buy him out. ‘I’m not finished with you or your poxy garage.’

  And the man had been true to his word.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Lizzie sipped the hot tea she had been handed, grateful for the hospitality of the river men who had made them welcome after the fire brigade had left. Danny, Bert and Cal were talking to a poorly dressed man called Robert. They all sat in a semi-circle on upturned wooden boxes inside the derelict building the river men called home.

  ‘You’re sure it was Savage?’ Danny asked and received a firm nod.

  ‘The same one as come round here and tried to kick us out,’ said a woman who had put a battered old kettle on the brazier to boil.

  ‘When was that?’ Danny asked.

  ‘A few nights ago. They did us over. Smashed our stuff and, when Robert and Phil tried to stop them, they roughed them up.’

  ‘Told us to get out,’ said Phil, who was sitting by Bert. ‘Said they’d torch us if we didn’t.’

  ‘But it looks like you was first,’ said Robert, nodding at what was left of the garage.

  ‘Anything left of your gear?’ Phil asked, pushing his straggly dark hair from his face.

  Danny shook his head. ‘Might be one or two bits in the store. I can’t get down in me cellar yet to see if the tools are okay.’

  ‘We’ll help if you like,’ said Robert.

  Danny smiled. ‘I’d be much obliged.’

  Lizzie noted all the river men still wore their greatcoats, despite the fact it was high summer. But the woman called Mary was sweating as she worked over the brazier. Like the handful of women Lizzie had seen about the encampment, she was dressed in a long skirt, boots and patched blouse with a leather belt. A brightly coloured scarf was wrapped around her head and two black plaits fell out from it. Lizzie thought she must be quite young as there were children playing close by and she appeared to be their mother. But the hard life Mary had lived made her look much older. Her swarthy skin was the same rough texture as the other women’s. These were the families of the tough breed of men who, as bargees and boatmen, had made their living on the water. Sadly they had fallen on hard times and their barges were gone. Like Danny, they had lost everything.

  Lizzie liked the way Danny and Cal spoke to them, as old friends. He’d told her how much he liked their music and singing and the way the kids played down on the foreshore, digging up bits of coal and timber for their fires. Lizzie thought fondly of the days when, as children, she and Bert and Vinnie had done much the same. Searching for fuel in the mud, they had been dirty but happy. Just as these children were.

  Lizzie smiled at a ragged infant who sat at Mary’s feet. Was it a boy or a girl? The child was content as it played with a handful of stones in the dirt.

  ‘Did you tell the copper?’ Phil asked.

  ‘That it was Savage?’ Danny shook his head.

  ‘Sorry we couldn’t chip in, mate,’ said Robert, staring into the heat of the brazier. ‘But it don’t pay us to mix with the bobbies. They’d only try to move us on, so we keep our heads down.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried Savage will come back?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘Course,’ said Mary. ‘But we can’t just up sticks. Nowhere to go. We been here a year now, longest we ever been anywhere on land.’

  ‘What happened to your barges?’

  ‘We had to sel
l ’em as in the depression the dock work dried up.’

  ‘Why is Savage so interested in this land?’ Cal asked.

  ‘Dunno.’ Robert drank his tea, then looked at Danny. ‘With you and us gone, it would leave a big space.’

  ‘Who does this warehouse belong to?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘Some old geezer up West.’

  They all sat silently, until Phil got up and paced around, kicking up dirt as he went. Robert went to talk to him and after a while they both returned.

  ‘There’s something else you’d better know,’ said Robert, scratching his long beard.

  ‘What’s that?’ Danny asked.

  ‘That bloke on the bike,’ Phil said in almost a whisper. ‘What was he to you?’

  Danny lifted his shoulders on a shrug. ‘A friend’s husband.’

  ‘Not family, then?’

  ‘No. But close enough.’

  ‘The coppers ain’t found out who done it?’

  Lizzie’s heart beat faster. ‘No, why?’

  Robert looked around him, as did Phil. Their bearded faces and dark eyes glowed in the light of the fire. ‘It was Savage,’ he said, stooping low. ‘We was sitting on the wall and got a good butcher’s. The geezer on the bike drove under the car’s wheels. When the window broke, we saw it was Savage in the back seat.’

  ‘Are you certain it was him?’ Danny said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Savage?’ Cal repeated slowly. ‘But he didn’t even know Richard.’

  ‘Reckon it was just bad luck,’ said Phil, ‘but only cowards drive off and don’t stop to help.’

  ‘We ain’t telling the cops, mind.’ Robert shook his head fiercely.

  Lizzie turned to Mary. ‘But Leonard Savage killed my friend’s husband, a young man with a wife and a family. He needs to be reported. If we all go to the police together—’

  Mary shook her head fiercely. ‘You heard the men, love. We don’t want nothin’ to do with the law. Or with that crook.’

  ‘But if he comes back here as he threatened, you won’t have any choice but to defend yourselves.’