Born to Dance

by June Tate

  Jackie Williams was in a state. He still had not a clue as to where Gerry had hidden the money. He had searched everywhere. Even Gerry’s home, when he’d been asked to take some chairs that Gerry had bought to the house and put them in the sitting room.

  Although he’d searched every room thoroughly, opening drawers, trunks and cupboards, he’d found nothing. He’d even stood in each room to look for something that was so normal, it could escape attention. But he had failed. He was getting frantic, knowing that Barry would be fretting and that when he did, he became difficult. That worried him the most. He knew how to handle the boy, but Wally or his men would just get angry and maybe hurt him. He decided to go back to Wally Cole and plead for Barry’s release. But when he got there, he discovered that Barry had managed to escape and was missing.

  Wally Cole was furious! He’d sent out for some crayons and a colouring book to appease the lad, who was becoming restless and cantankerous. It had settled him, and in the ensuing peace, the man guarding him had fallen asleep. Barry had crept out of the room and was away before anyone realized.

  Cole stormed at Jackie when he arrived, ‘My men will find that little bleeder, I promise you and he’ll pay for all the trouble he’s caused me!’

  ‘Please, Mr Cole, leave him alone. You don’t need him. I promise I’ll find the money; you don’t need to hold my brother. I give you my word.’

  Cole looked at Jackie with disdain. ‘That’s supposed to make me feel secure, is it? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll make you a promise. You find the money and I won’t top your brother when we find him.’

  Jackie was horrified. ‘You can’t kill him, he’s innocent. He’s never done anyone any harm in his life!’

  ‘Well, son, it’s up to you. You’d better be on your way, you’re wasting time here.’

  Jackie fled the building.

  Bonny walked wearily to her dressing room after the final curtain that night. She hadn’t slept well worrying about Barry Williams. Had Foxy Gordon done anything about his release, she wondered. It bothered her that he was in the hands of some criminal gang. She decided to send out for some fish and chips, which she could eat in her dressing room, then she could go home and go straight to bed. Picking up the phone in her room, she rang the doorman and asked him to send someone to the fish and chip shop for her as she’d sent her dresser home. She was suffering with a cold, and Bonny had assured her she could manage once she was dressed for the final number.

  As she slipped out of her costume and reached for a coat hanger, she let out a scream as the dress rail moved on its wheels.

  A head peered out from between the gowns. ‘It’s only me, Miss Bonny.’

  ‘Barry! What on earth are you doing here?’

  The young lad climbed his way out from behind. ‘I ran away! The man went to sleep, so I crept out of the room as quiet as a mouse. Then I went to the door and it opened and I was on the street. I ran all the way. You’ll look after me, won’t you?’ He looked worried. ‘I don’t like those men. They shouted at me and one of them hit me, just like the old bugger used to.’

  She gathered him to her. ‘Oh dear, Barry, I am sorry, and of course I’ll take care of you. Are you hungry?’

  ‘Starving. Got any sweets or biscuits?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, but I have some fish and chips coming soon.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Do they have salt and vinegar on them?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  His face fell just for a moment, then he smiled. ‘Never mind, we can pretend they do.’

  There was a knock on the door and Bonny looked at Barry. Putting her finger to her lips, she pulled him out of sight, grabbed a handful of change off the dressing table and opened the door, which she carefully locked after the messenger delivered his goods.

  Taking a little of the food herself, she gave the rest to Barry, still in the newspaper it was wrapped in. ‘We’ll have to eat with our fingers,’ she said.

  The boy tucked into the food and said, ‘They always taste better eaten with your fingers anyway.’

  As she watched him, Bonny’s mind was in turmoil. What was she to do with the boy? She could take him back to her flat for the night and let him sleep there, but what about tomorrow when she was working? If he’d escaped from the villains and she let his brother know he was safe, would they follow him to find the boy?

  She rang Mickey O’Halleran and told him what had happened.

  ‘Jaysus Christ, Bonny!’ he exclaimed over the phone. ‘You stay put; I’m coming to the theatre. Don’t tell anyone he’s there.’

  But before he arrived there was a knock on the door.

  Bonny froze. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s me, Shirley, are you ready to go home?’

  Bonny let her in, then quickly locked the door.

  Shirley looked puzzled. ‘What the hell are you doing that for?’ Then she saw Barry. ‘Hello, who are you?’

  Bonny quickly filled her friend in with all the details. ‘We will have to hide him for tonight,’ she told her. ‘After that, I don’t know. Mickey is on his way over.’

  ‘Bloody hell, girl, you do get yourself mixed up with some strange people.’ She nodded over towards Barry and in a near whisper asked, ‘Would they really knock him off?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I just don’t know what to do for the best.’

  At that moment Mickey knocked on the door and called her name. Once inside he questioned Barry as to what had happened to him from the time he was picked up.

  Barry had overheard enough conversation between the men to pass on, which made the situation clear to the boxer. ‘So it’s all about money, as always! People will do anything for greed.’

  ‘I want my brother,’ Barry said.

  Sitting beside the lad, Mickey tried to make him understand that Jackie might be in danger if he came to see him at the moment. That tonight he’d stay with Bonny, and tomorrow Mickey would take him to safety.

  ‘Where?’ asked Bonny.

  ‘It’s best you don’t know. Foxy and I will keep him safe, don’t you worry. But we have to sneak him out of here and there may be a couple of photographers outside.’

  ‘They won’t be interested in me,’ Shirley ventured. Then with a grin she turned to Barry. ‘How would you like to dress up as one of the lady dancers? We could play a game. What do you say? We could put a dress on you and a wig.’

  The boy’s face lit up. ‘I’d like that. Will you give me a lady’s name too?’

  ‘Why not, what would you like to be called?’

  ‘Queenie, after my auntie.’

  ‘Right then, you come with me. I’ll see you both back at the flat.’ Unlocking the door, she peered out to see if the coast was clear, and grabbing Barry by the hand, she left the dressing room.

  ‘I am so sorry, Mickey, to get you involved but I didn’t know what to do.’ Bonny was distraught. ‘I can’t let anything happen to that boy, whoever his brother might be.’

  Pulling her into his arms, Mickey tried to reassure her. ‘Your problems are mine, darlin’, and it’s my place to look after you, like Jackie does for his brother. Now come along, let’s get going.’

  Outside a couple of photographers waited. They raised their cameras, took a couple of pictures and then left.

  Bonny shook her head. ‘Don’t they ever get fed up taking our pictures?’

  ‘I told you, princess, it goes with the job. They have to earn a living too.’ He hailed a taxi and they made their way home.

  Shirley had already made a cup of tea and a sandwich for Barry and herself when Bonny and Mickey arrived.

  ‘This boy has a bottomless pit for a stomach!’ Shirley laughed. ‘He told me he’d already had fish and chips.’

  ‘He’s a growing lad,’ Mickey told her. ‘But now I must go and see Foxy. I’ll be back early tomorrow morning.’ Leaning forward he kissed Bonny. ‘Get a good night’s sleep, sweetheart.’

  Foxy, who lived above the gym, was surprised to hea
r the front doorbell so late at night. Picking up a crowbar, he went to the door. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me, Mickey. Let me in.’

  Over a glass of beer, Mickey explained why he’d called. ‘The lad escaped, so now we need to hide him. I can’t have Bonny mixed up in this after tonight.’

  ‘I’ll put him up here. Wally Cole would never suspect that I have anything to do with this. He’ll be as safe as houses.’

  ‘But what happens if Jackie can’t find the money?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I’m off to Gerry’s tailor tomorrow. Maybe he can throw some light on the subject. At least I’ll find out a bit more about him. You know men chat away whilst they are being measured. I might strike lucky.’

  The shop was typical of all tailors’ shops. Pattern books lay about; rolls of cloth were sorted into colours. A table was being used by the cutter, who followed the chalk marks on the material he was cutting, and sitting cross-legged on a bench was a man sewing on buttons by hand, whilst two others were working at treadle machines. Working at speed, as they fed the pieces of garment through, to be stitched.

  Foxy looked through the materials on offer, choosing a black and white dogstooth check, to the agreement of the tailor.

  ‘Good choice, sir. It will suit you very well.’ Then he questioned Foxy as to how he liked his suits styled.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave it to you,’ he said. ‘I have always admired the suits you have made for Gerry Pike.’

  ‘Ah, young Mr Pike. A very stylish young man, if I may say so. Exquisite taste. Let me show you a couple of patterns that he particularly likes.’

  As he was being measured, Foxy looked around the room. There were a few tailors’ dummies with garments draped on them that were in the process of being made. Foxy noticed that the dummies had names marked on pieces of paper.

  ‘Are those for each of your customers?’ he enquired.

  ‘Just for a selected few of our regulars.’ He pointed to a bare one in the corner. ‘That’s Mr Pikes’. He had it made to his measurements. I have to say it is far superior to the others, but the measurements are very accurate … as long as he doesn’t gain or lose weight!’ The man chuckled.

  When the tailor had finished taking his measurements, Foxy walked over to the dummy and studied it closely. ‘What do you mean, he had it made?’ he asked.

  The tailor smiled. ‘Mr Pike took the measurements and had it made up himself. He said he didn’t want us to use it for anyone else. He does like to be exclusive, does our Mr Pike. It’s much more solid than the others. Beautifully made, I must say. Probably cost a pretty penny.’

  A slow smile spread across Foxy’s face. ‘Clever little bleeder!’ he muttered softly.

  Twenty-Four

  Foxy Gordon drove back to the gym with a satisfied grin. Quite by chance, he thought he’d found where Gerry Pike had stashed the money from the robberies. How very neat. He hadn’t been able to turn the tailor’s dummy upside down, but he felt sure that at the base, which had been broad, he would find a keyhole. He had tried to lift it but it weighed a ton, as opposed to the others which were much lighter. Now what was he to do with the information? No way would he touch it. He was running a legit business these days, and the last thing he wanted was to lose this status – not with a world-class boxer in his stable. But he didn’t want Wally Cole to have it either.

  The police received an anonymous call later that day that caused much excitement. The Detective Inspector in charge of the bank robberies’ case called a meeting immediately.

  ‘With regard to the bank robberies, we have received information about the stolen money.’ He then told his men about the phone call. ‘It would seem that the villain responsible was, as we thought, young Gerry Pike. If our informant is correct, the money is hidden in a tailor’s dummy in Whitechapel. We, of course, will have to examine said dummy, and then if our informant’s guess is correct, we’ll have to wait for it to be collected. There is word going around that the cash is due to be laundered soon, so if we’re lucky we won’t have too long to wait.’

  Plans were then put in place for the tailor’s shop to be visited by two detectives, and if the information was solid, a rota would be set up so the shop would be watched twenty-four hours a day.

  Young Barry Williams was having the time of his life! He’d spent the night sleeping at Miss Bonny’s flat with her and her friend Shirley, and now, after a hearty breakfast, he was to go out with Mickey O’Halleran to another place. If only Jackie was here too, he thought.

  Mickey slipped the lad out of the flat the back way and into a waiting car, before making for the gym.

  ‘Am I going to learn to box?’ asked Barry excitedly.

  ‘Would you like to?’

  He turned his head on one side to consider the offer. ‘I’m not sure … You get hurt sometimes if you box, don’t you?’

  Mickey pursed his lips. ‘I’m afraid so, my son. It’s part of the game.’

  Barry shook his head vigorously. ‘Then I don’t want to. I don’t like to be hurt.’

  Putting a comforting arm on the boy’s shoulder, Mickey said, ‘That’s fine and I don’t blame you one bit. What do you like?’

  ‘I like comics! And sweets.’

  ‘Then that’s what you’ll have if you are a good boy and do as you are told. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  Once Barry was settled at the gym and seemed content, Foxy and Mickey sat down together.

  ‘I really feel we should let Jackie know his brother’s safe,’ Mickey suggested.

  ‘No, we’ll wait a while, it won’t be for long,’ Foxy insisted. Then he told Mickey about his call to the police. ‘Gerry is about to move the money; I heard about it this morning. The police are just waiting for him to do so, then Jackie will be fine, and Barry too. Just be patient, it’ll soon be over.’

  With a frown Mickey asked, ‘What happens if Wally Cole finds out he lost the stash because of you?’

  With a shrug Foxy grinned. ‘How will he find out? The call was anonymous!’

  Wally Cole now knew where Barry Williams was being hidden! The two men watching Bonny and Mickey had been unaware of his presence in Bonny’s dressing room, as the lad had slipped in there before she had arrived and therefore the theatre had not been under surveillance, and neither had they recognized Barry leaving the theatre dressed as a woman, when Shirley had taken him home. But they had seen Mickey enter Bonny’s flat, and the man watching the back entrance had seen the boxer take the boy to a waiting car and had then followed him to Foxy’s gym.

  All this had been reported to their boss, who was livid that Foxy had become involved. ‘That bastard is interfering with my business!’ he shouted. ‘I’ll make him pay dearly for that.’ He was already frustrated, as Jackie had been unable to find the hiding place where the ill-gotten gains were being hidden.

  ‘What do you want to do about the boy, guv?’ asked one man.

  ‘Leave him where he is. Jackie is obviously oblivious to the fact that he’s safe, so he’ll keep digging.’ But the situation was unsatisfactory. Cole was aware that the money would have to be laundered – and soon. But where the hell was it?

  The villain didn’t have to wait long for his problem to be solved, as a few days later Gerry went to the tailor’s for a fitting, with his right-hand man in tow, and left carrying the tailor’s dummy. As he tried to load it into the back of his car, the waiting police pounced, taking it and both men to the local police station for questioning.

  The detectives working on the case gathered round with great excitement as the key was removed from the belt Gerry was wearing, inserted in the lock under the base of the dummy … and opened. Neatly packed inside were thousands of pounds in bank notes, each stack wearing a paper band with the stamp of the bank on it.

  Detective Inspector Phillips smiled at Gerry Pike. ‘You’re nicked, mate!’ And then he read him his rights.

  Wally Cole went berserk when he heard the news. ‘That crafty little
bugger! Whoever would have thought to look around a tailor’s shop for the loot?’ But he had the consolation that Gerry and his associate would go down for the robbery, thus removing the young blade from causing him any more trouble for quite a while. But he wondered just how the police had known of the money’s whereabouts. Who had discovered the secret? He pondered over this for a long time and then decided to pay a call on Foxy Gordon. He had a niggling suspicion that the fight promoter was behind it in some way. Call it a gut reaction …

  Foxy Gordon was like a cat with two tails, he was so delighted with the outcome of his anonymous call to the police. Gerry Pike would be behind bars, there would be no gang war between the two factions, and Cole hadn’t been able to get his hands on the money. Terrific! He looked at his watch and then made his way downstairs to the gym. He was more than a little surprised to see Wally Cole himself and a couple of his henchmen walk in. With a scowl he asked, ‘What are you doing here?’

  Cole studied him closely. ‘I wondered if you had been to Whitechapel lately – to be measured for a suit, perhaps?’

  Gordon’s eyes narrowed as he met the other’s gaze. ‘I don’t understand the question.’

  But knowing Foxy of old, Wally was certain that his gut feeling had been correct. ‘I know you’re hiding young Barry here.’ He noted the surprised look on the other’s face. He prodded Foxy in the chest. ‘I don’t like it when anyone interferes in my business. You of all people should know that.’

  ‘You mean like when young Gerry Pike turned over the two banks on your patch!’ Foxy couldn’t hide the note of triumph in his voice.

  And then Wally Cole knew for sure that Foxy had been meddling. His expression was thunderous as he stared at the promoter. ‘You’ll pay for this, I promise.’