The Phantom

by Jack Murray

  ‘So? What’s your solution then Johnny?’

  ‘You need to call in some favours.’

  Then a smile spread across McDonald’s face as he understood where Johnny Mac was heading. He nodded and said, ‘I’m think I’m with you now. Maybe it’s time some of my people started to earn their money.’ He looked meaningfully at Johnny Mac.

  ‘Precisely Wag. This is exactly the kind of problem they need to take away.’

  Chapter 20

  It was late afternoon when Kit handed over watch duty to Alfred. He thanked him again for his support. Quite what the rotund young man could contribute to the physical safety of Mary was up for debate. If anything, he suspected Mary would be a better bet than Alfred. Hopefully matters would not arrive to such a hazardous point. Kit looked in amusement as Alfred arrived with a bag full to the brim of sandwiches.

  ‘Keeping your strength up, Alfred? What have you got?’ asked Kit with a smile.

  ‘Bacon, sir. I’m a somewhat partial to a nice bacon sandwich,’ replied Alfred.

  Or six, thought Kit.

  ‘I’ve asked Mary to bring you out some food if she gets a chance. I was worried you would get hungry. Unnecessarily, it seems.’

  Alfred laughed, and admitted, ‘I never turn down a nice food, although I’m not too keen on eggs, to be honest.’

  Kit tried hard to avoid looking at Alfred’s rather large stomach and wished him well. He confirmed Harry Miller would take over around seven thirty for the night. With that, Kit left Alfred to his observation tasks and went in search of a taxi to take him back to Belgravia, judging it too cold to go on foot.

  Inside the car, Alfred settled down to what he hoped would be an uneventful afternoon of surveillance. He lifted from the passenger seat a fine pair of binoculars and surveyed the house. Nothing much seemed to be happening, so he began to test the power of the glasses on houses further away. The potency of the glasses was immediately apparent as he looked from one bedroom window to another. If the room was lit up it was possible to see quite a bit through the sash windows in the square. From time to time people would stray into view. A couple arguing. A young woman dancing. A middle-aged woman alone: she seemed sad. What, at first, had seemed to be a bit of a bore was soon transforming into something infinitely more interesting.

  Around six thirty, a light came on the in dining room at the front of the house. First a butler appeared, followed by a blonde maid. The maid was wearing a black outfit that clung enchantingly to an evidently slim figure. When she turned around, Alfred realised he was looking at Mary. For the next few minutes she moved in and out of sight. This was somewhat frustrating for Alfred, like listening to beautiful music on a radio which occasionally loses its frequency.

  At one point Mary reappeared in view. Clearly she had spilled something on the front of her white pinafore. Alfred, watching her hands slowly rub the front of her outfit, experienced a level of excitement he would have dreamt impossible not three hours previously. He shifted position several times as the delicious spectacle he was viewing up close, thanks to the miracle of magnification, sadly reached its climax.

  Mary disappeared for a moment and then reappeared walking towards the window. Alfred found himself looking directly into her blue eyes. Those eyes narrowed for a moment into a frown that caused the young man’s heart to manage the improbable feat of missing a beat whilst racing like he was sprinting after a bus. Then, all too soon, she swept out of view.

  For the next five minutes, Alfred yearned for Mary to return. This felt like a significant moment in his young life. He had enjoyed the vision in the dining room on a number of levels that he did not understand. To have it so cruelly removed felt close to a bereavement.

  The separation was, thankfully, ended by the delightful arrival of Mary to the car. She leaned down close to the driver window. Only a pane of glass separated Alfred from the almost hallucinatory beauty of this young woman. As desperate as he was to kiss the enchantress he realised this would have several consequences the worst of which was the certainty of missing out on the food parcel she was carrying.

  As ever, Alfred’s stomach ruled his heart. He opened the door and Mary handed him the food.

  ‘Can’t stay. Enjoy.’

  Alfred opened the paper and found chips and what looked like lobster. He closed his eyes and breathed in the aroma of the food and tried to recapture the image of the previous moment so that he would never forget.

  -

  It had been a waste of a day in Jellicoe’s view. Several hours spent with Bulstrode and Wellbeloved reviewing the case notes was as disheartening an experience as he could remember. Their inclination towards more savage methods of interrogation was one thing but, with a realisation bordering on epiphany, the reason they employed this approach was because they had the collective intellect of a backward rock.

  These faults allied to a general deficiency of character, an absence of morality and a heightened suspicion that there were no depths to which they would sink left Jellicoe and Ryan both feeling thoroughly dispirited from their morning’s work. Jellicoe had been tempted to join Ryan when he went to see his brother for lunch.

  The plan of attack, which Jellicoe worried they meant literally, was to revisit all of the known fences for jewels and to apply greater, and Jellicoe remembered with a shudder Bulstrode’s smile when he said, “rigour” to the interview.

  It was with something approaching ecstasy when Jellicoe heard that Lord Kit Aston had arrived at Scotland Yard asking to see him, late in the afternoon. Bulstrode heard this with amusement.

  ‘Hobnobbing are we?’ asked Bulstrode sardonically.

  ‘Something like that,’ replied Jellicoe rising his from his seat and walking to the door.

  Ryan looked up at him hopefully, but Jellicoe indicated to stay. He felt a pang of guilt at doing this, but it was impossible to know if the meeting with Aston would be useful or not. On the one hand there was no doubting Aston’s intelligence, his intuitive sense of people and, most importantly, his ability to connect seemingly disparate pieces of information. However, he represented a class to which Jellicoe was not a member, and never would be. The jewel robberies were a threat to this class and Aston had been used once, however reluctantly, as a messenger to communicate this fact.

  Jellicoe greeted Kit warmly in the lobby area and asked him to come through to an office. The policeman looked at Kit wryly and asked, ‘What brings you along today sir? Is there another message to communicate?’

  Kit exhaled and looked at Jellicoe with a degree of embarrassment, ‘I’m sorry about that Chief Inspector, it was a favour and I hoped it would ease some of the pressure.’

  Jellicoe showed Kit into a room and they sat down. He glanced at Kit and said, ‘The Commissioner has invited a couple of other men to join the investigation and take a lead.’

  Kit looked at the Chief Inspector. It was often difficult to tell if he was happy or gloomy about any given situation.

  ‘Is this a positive development?’ asked Kit.

  ‘Bulstrode, the new man, and his partner Wellbeloved have achieved good results in the past. Their approach is, shall we say, robust.’

  ‘I think I take your meaning Chief Inspector,’ replied Kit. ‘I wonder if you are interested, in that case, if I offer a suggestion on another possible avenue of enquiry?’

  Jellicoe did smile at this point and nodded, ‘I would be interested in your thoughts, Lord Aston, certainly. We could do with something new.’

  ‘To your knowledge, did the other houses, that were robbed, employ a young woman in the days leading up to the robbery?’

  Surprise registered on the Chief Inspector’s face followed by a nod.

  ‘Yes Lord Aston. In the first two robberies, this was the case. The third at Lord Wolf’s, there many servants hired for the pre-conference party, men and women. But certainly in the first two cases, a young woman was brought in as a maid. The description differed on each occasion but the woman or women in each case were j
udged to be in their early twenties, respectable and in each case they disappeared after the robbery. We didn’t publicise this for the reason I suggested earlier, we could not obtain a consistent likeness. May I ask how you arrived at this conclusion?’

  Telling the good Chief Inspector that the possible break in the case was the result of the investigation of two elderly women and his fiancée struck Kit as not being very sensible. Instead he opted to check one other point that had been nagging him.

  ‘Before we go into that, may I ask you another, related question. How did these young women obtain the postings. Was it the same agency who placed them?’

  ‘In the first two cases, their predecessors left very suddenly. Coincidentally, the household received a flyer detailing the existence of an agency dedicated to placing experienced servants in houses on either a short term or long term basis. This agency was called Holland Placements. Of course when we went to visit them, it was an abandoned office in Clerkenwell. We followed up by checking printers in a wide vicinity, but no one admitted to having done the print job on the flyer.’

  ‘Is this unusual? I mean, would a printer have any reason not to admit they’d created such advertising?

  ‘None that I can think of, unless they feared being implicated in the crime. What are you driving at?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It just strikes me that this is a very well planned operation. On the one hand you have the ability to, presumably, pay off a servant to leave a job. You go to the trouble of printing flyers about an employment agency then place someone on the inside.’

  ‘Ryan and I feel the same way. It appears to be bigger than simply a lone burglar. But, if I may, do you have any information on this young woman or women?’

  Kit thought for a moment and then decided to press ahead.

  ‘I think I may know who the young woman is. I’ve no proof, of course. I also know where she is employed now.’

  Jellicoe was unquestionably smiling at this point. His faith in Kit fully restored and, for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt at the impression he must have given earlier.

  ‘Would you mind waiting here sir? I think I will bring Sergeant Ryan in on this.’

  Kit waited in the office and reviewed what he was about to do. Having Mary working in the inside was causing him anxiety. He believed that the young Rosling, was capable of anything, especially with staff. Of the elder Rosling he knew little but suspected few would be immune to the charms of someone like Mary. However, in involving the police, was he throwing an innocent young woman to the wolves? He trusted Jellicoe and also Ryan, from what he had seen of the young man. The other policemen sounded ghastly, and it would be better for all if the case achieved a swift conclusion.

  The two policemen entered the office a few minutes later and sat down in front of Kit.

  ‘Sergeant Ryan, I’m pleased to see you again.’

  Ryan smiled and nodded but made no reply. Jellicoe turned to Ryan and said, ‘Lord Aston may have information on the jewel robberies which he’s going to share with us now.’

  Jellicoe and Ryan turned expectantly to Kit.

  Kit looked first at Jellicoe and then turned to Ryan and said, ‘I was explaining to the Chief Inspector earlier, I think we all believe there is a connection between the arrival of a young woman as a maid and the recent robberies. I think I may know who the young woman is. She is currently working under an assumed name and in disguise at a house in Sloane Gardens.’

  Just as Kit was about to elaborate, the door burst open. The three men turned around to see Bulstrode and Wellbeloved walk into the office.

  ‘Hello gentlemen,’ said Bulstrode, ‘I hope we’re not missing anything.’

  Jellicoe looked up in shock at the new arrival. He took a moment to compose himself before saying, ‘Bulstrode, may I introduce Lord Aston.’ His voice was steady but there was no question, he had been startled.

  Kit stood up and shook hands with the two men. Jellicoe’s reservation about Bulstrode were not difficult to comprehend. He had a face even a mother would struggle to love. One look at the two men and Kit made an immediate decision.

  ‘I’m a close friend of Lord Wolf, this so-called Phantom’s third victim. He asked me to pop in to see Jellicoe and find out what progress had been made.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Kit saw a trace of a smile on the otherwise solemn face of the Chief Inspector.

  ‘Well, Lord Aston,’ replied Bulstrode, ‘You may convey to his lordship that the case is under new management and that we will expedite a conclusion. This has been dragging on long enough.’

  ‘Bravo Chief Inspector, that’s the spirit,’ responded Kit enthusiastically. He pumped his fist also, hoping it would not guild the proverbial golden goose. ‘I’m sure Lord Wolf will be delighted to hear that Scotland Yard are finally getting their act together on this case.’ Even Ryan was struggling to stop smiling but for very different reasons from the beaming Bulstrode and well pleased Wellbeloved. ‘You see Jellicoe, this is exactly the kind of attitude we need if we’re going to capture this despicable villain.’

  At this point Kit took out a note book and said to Bulstrode, ‘Forgive me, but what did you say your name was again? My hearing isn’t quite the same since the War.’ There comes a point in any man’s life when it is necessary to lay it on a bit thick. Kit hoped he hadn’t exceeded the limit, but the look on Jellicoe’s face was slowly becoming beatific.

  ‘Bulstrode, Samuel Bulstrode and this is Sergeant Alex Wellbeloved.’

  ‘Thank you Bulstrode. I shall convey all that I’ve heard to Lord Wolf. He will, no doubt, be pleased to hear that we may soon have some, badly-needed, momentum. Take note Jellicoe, old chap.’

  ’I shall sir,’ said Jellicoe, gamely getting into his role as the hapless flat foot.

  ‘You too Ryan,’ added Kit, beginning to enjoy himself.

  Having said his piece, Kit rose, which forced the policemen to do likewise. He shook hands with the four men and made his way out of the office into the corridor leading to the entrance lobby of the building.

  ‘Glad someone here appreciates what we do,’ said Bulstrode as the four men returned upstairs.

  Ryan remained silent, but he noticed that Jellicoe, a man whose face he was beginning to read well, looking unusually un-solemn. At the door to their office Jellicoe showed him the reason why. In his hand was a piece of paper. The same type of paper as Kit’s notebook. On it were written the following words:

  Meet me outside at 7pm.

  Chapter 21

  There was no sign of Abbott when Ryan arrived at the factory. He deposited his coat in the cloakroom and made his way to the usual spot only to find two other men there. An icy fear gripped him. The prospect of losing a job, even one he didn’t like, made him feel sick. Instantly he regretted agreeing to partner with Abbott and steal the cigarettes.

  Rusk saw Ryan’s arrival followed him as he walked towards the packing area. The look on Ryan’s face was a picture of dismay. It was obvious he thought he was going to be fired. In Rusk’s view he should have been. After a few moments he called over to Ryan to come to the office. There was a look on Rusk’s face that Ryan did not like. If cruelty had a face then Ryan was looking into its cold, black eyes.

  ‘Johnny wants to see you.’

  Ryan followed Rusk away from the factory floor to Johnny Macs’s office. Any explanation on Abbott was clearly going to have to wait until he saw the Ulsterman. As it happened, Johnny Mac smiled when he saw Ryan. The fact that his smile was as scary as his frown because of the two painted teeth was not as reassuring as it might have been. Not that Johnny Mac had any yearning to soothe anyone.

  ‘Sit down Ryan,’ said Johnny Mac, ignoring any pleasantries. As usual.

  Ryan did as he was bid but remained silent. He was scared, not for himself, not physically. He’d encountered worse than these two men and survived. If it came to it, he’d give a better account of himself than they might guess. The anxiety was the prospect of losing his job.
He stayed silent not to appear tough, but because he was sure his voice would betray his fear.

  Johnny Mac and Rusk both looked at Ryan for longer than a few moments, doubtless they were trying to unnerve him. Oddly their tactic rebounded. Instead Ryan began to feel a swell within him. Anger. He’d felt it towards the Germans. He felt it towards the enemy. Right now, the two men before him were the enemy. The anger he felt was cold, not hot. It was his way. It had helped him survive hell. He would survive this whatever they tried to throw at him.

  Perhaps the change in Ryan’s self-belief became apparent. Years of looking into men’s eyes seeking to frighten them had made Johnny Mac especially attuned to fear. The anger lit something discernible in Ryan’s eyes. The moment passed, and Johnny Mac began to speak.

  ‘You’ve been a naughty boy haven’t you?’

  So they knew.

  The rage in him died immediately. He’d been found out. He was guilty, alright. They could fire him and be entirely justified in doing so. Perhaps once more, the Ulsterman saw the change in Ryan, Rusk certainly did.

  ‘Not so tough now, Ryan, eh?’ taunted Rusk.

  In fact, once again, in a blink of an unguarded comment, Ryan’s courage came flooding back. If they thought were going to toy with him like a cat, they had another thing coming. Johnny Mac, as ever, read the change and glanced irritably at Rusk.

  ‘Abbott was caught selling snout down at the Temple Bar by one of Wag McDonald’s men.’

  Ryan’s first thought was: idiot.

  Idiot, idiot, idiot. He felt like screaming in frustration. For himself but particularly for Abbott. Of course, he’d heard of Wag McDonald, who hadn’t heard of the ‘Elephant Boys’ in south London? This was another level of threat for him. He wondered if the two men in front of him were members of this infamous gang. In fact, was the whole operation part of a criminal empire?