by Cathy Sharp
‘Will they come after me?’ June asked at last. The look in her eyes made Archie angry and he reached for her hand, holding it tightly.
‘You told us the truth, June? You didn’t lie back there?’
‘I told you the truth,’ June said, tears welling in her eyes. ‘They bought me things … sweets and clothes, but I hate them … they’re bad, Archie. I’m not the first kid they’ve done things to …’
‘Filthy beasts,’ Archie said. ‘How do you know?’
‘I heard them talking one night,’ June said and she was trembling from head to foot. ‘She told him to be careful what he did, said he should remember what happened to the last one when he got too rough … She said something about she wasn’t going to be a party to murder again …’
‘Bloody hell! Did you hear that, Ikey?’
Ikey was on the main road heading back towards Cambridge. He didn’t turn his head as he said, ‘I’m not sure – can you repeat what June just said please?’
‘She heard them talking. The woman said she wasn’t going to be a party to murder again and warned him not to be too rough …’
‘I’ll want June to remember all she can when we get home,’ Ikey said. ‘Is she hungry? There are a few sandwiches left. I daren’t stop for a while, just in case Mrs Bailey telephones the police and they come looking for us …’
‘Do you think they will? If what June says is true they surely won’t dare …?’ He gave his sister a stern look. ‘You really are telling me the truth?’
June nodded, her face pale and her eyes dark as the tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘I know I wouldn’t listen to you and I did silly things and that’s why they sent me away, but I promise I’ll be good. I want Mum … she’ll believe me; she won’t let them take me away again …’
‘No, she wouldn’t,’ Archie said and took her hand in his. ‘I shan’t let them take you again, June. I promise. I never thought anything like this could happen to you … you were supposed to go somewhere they would look after you and stop you gettin’ into trouble …’
‘They kept me off school when I had bruises on my face and arms,’ June said. ‘He told me if I ever said a word at school he would kill me …’
‘Wicked devil,’ Archie said fiercely. He put his arm about June’s shoulders, feeling her tremble. He was certain she was telling the truth; there was nothing left of the defiant girl who had rebelled against Sister Beatrice’s discipline. She’d been broken in spirit and bruised in body, and Archie wished he’d kicked that evil woman twice as hard. ‘I’m sorry for what they did to you. I’m going to tell the police what you’ve told us and they’ll be in lots of trouble.’
‘Leave things to me,’ Ikey said, still not looking back at them, though he was now driving at a more reasonable speed. ‘I’ve got a few friends who know about these things and we’ll need to move quickly and carefully, because people like that will be up and off if they think June has told us what they did to her … We shall be lucky if they’re brought to justice, but it won’t be for lack of trying. I promise you that much.’
‘You’ve done a lot for us,’ Archie said. ‘I hope you won’t be in trouble for what happened back there …’
‘I’ve been in trouble before,’ Ikey said with a shrug. ‘I dare say I can take it, whatever they do to me. It’s you two I’m concerned about – and the others that pair might damage if they get the chance …’
Ikey entered the prison visiting room and took his allotted seat at the table indicated. His eyes swept over the prisoners filing in and he knew her at once. There was enough of her in June and Archie to tell him that she was Sandra Miller and he got to his feet as she approached, offering his hand.
‘Mrs Miller,’ he said, and something about the way she looked at him touched a chord inside him. ‘You don’t know me, but I know Sergeant Sallis very well indeed and he told me that he believes you were not treated fairly. I want you to trust me and tell me everything you remember about what happened that day you were arrested – and why you think it may have been Mr Reg Prentice who set you up.’
Ikey listened intently as she told him of the way Reg had pestered her relentlessly, and how she’d slapped his face and told him she would go to the overall manager if he didn’t leave her alone.
‘He threatened me but I hoped it would be enough to stop him touching me, but then the next morning I was questioned, sacked and then arrested for theft of several large cheques which had been made out to cash. The evidence was in my drawer, but it wasn’t me who practised those signatures. I told them so in court but no one believed me …’
‘I believe you, Sandra,’ Ikey said and smiled at her. He thought that her honesty shone out of her eyes and wondered at the fools who had allowed her to be so falsely accused and convicted of a crime he was quite certain she hadn’t committed. ‘I’ve been told that there is some evidence that it may indeed be Mr Prentice who forged those cheques. This is in confidence, but we’ve set up a trap and the next time one of those cheques is cashed, we shall have the proof we need …’
‘How? I don’t understand – what do you mean “we”?’ Sandra stared at him, wanting to believe but not quite able to grasp it.
‘I have friends in high places,’ Ikey smiled at her. ‘Please trust me when I tell you that I can’t say more just yet. Certain cheques have been impregnated with a special chemical that will leave a blue dye on the hands of the person that handles them. He or she won’t realise it is there, because it only shows up in a certain light. Mr Prentice should’ve stopped once he was ahead, but like all those who steal he got greedy – and one of the secretaries became suspicious. Apparently, she never believed it was you that took the money, and he’d been annoying her as well, so she watched him and then she came to us and told us she’d seen him take a blank cheque and put it in his pocket. It has since been confirmed that more money has gone astray …’
Tears rose in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she looked at him. ‘I don’t know how to thank you enough – and Sergeant Sallis …’
‘Well, we don’t have Reg’s confession yet but it should happen soon, and when it does I’ll do all I can to get you released as soon as it can be arranged.’
‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘Why have you done so much for me?’
‘You could say I’m a friend of Archie’s,’ Ikey said. ‘And before you ask, he’s fine. I don’t want you to worry, Mrs Miller. We’re all working to get you out of here with your name cleared so that you can all be together again …’
Ikey had thought it his duty to tell her about her daughter, but something in her face told him that she had already suffered too much and he held back information that could well have destroyed her. She’d made quite an impression on him and he wasn’t sure yet what that meant for either of them. Time enough for her to learn the truth when she was with her daughter and could hold her close … even though she might blame him for not telling her …
CHAPTER 18
‘I thought I’d come and take a look at you,’ Mary Ellen said and smiled at Billy standing behind the stall he’d set out with clothing. The stall itself was covered with jumpers in cellophane packets; dresses, skirts and a couple of suits hung on the rails at the side. Several customers were looking through the rails and the packets of jumpers, taking them out to examine them for any faults. ‘Have you been busy?’
‘On and off,’ Billy told her. ‘I’ve sold six jumpers, two skirts and a suit this morning so I think that’s good enough for my first morning …’
‘It sounds great to me,’ Mary Ellen said, casting a practised eye over the goods on the rail. Most of it was cabbage, but not from Sam’s firm. His wasn’t the only clothing firm to sell their mistakes to market traders. Most things sold this way would have slight faults, though sometimes they were perfect, just made a bit on the skimpy side out of fabric left over from a customer’s order. ‘These jumpers look nice – what’s wrong with them?’
‘Nothing as far as I know.
Mr Connolly told me they were all end of lines he bought cheap. I’ve looked at a couple and they seem fine, but I tell people to take them out and have a good look before they buy.’
Mary Ellen took a soft pink wool jumper with short sleeves from the bag and spread it out, checking inside to see if the seams were straight and if there were any holes. She couldn’t find anything and decided they were just surplus stock. Sam sold things off cheap at times, if something hadn’t cleared after a couple of months on the rails. He always said it was money back to help things keep going.
‘This is nice,’ she said. ‘How much is it?’
‘Fifteen bob to anyone else, ten to you,’ Billy said promptly.
‘I’m not taking your profit,’ she said and handed over the fifteen shillings. ‘This is lovely and it will look nice on Rose – it’s her birthday next week.’
‘It’s a pound for her,’ Billy joked and Mary Ellen laughed, knowing he didn’t mean it.
‘She likes this colour,’ she said. ‘I was wondering what to get her, but there’s a lovely pink tweed skirt we’ve got at work that would go with this – and make up for that suit she had to take back.’
‘How are things at work now?’ Billy asked. ‘Has Sam noticed anything else missing?’
‘No, not since he put those mirrors up. He was really pleased with the way that worked out, Billy. He keeps telling me you’re a clever lad and he wants to talk to you.’
‘I’ll go round and see him one day,’ Billy promised. ‘I’m busy most of the time, keeping a look-out for Mr Connolly and collecting his rents and takings. He let me have all this stuff at cost, and I can pay him a bit every week instead of all at once.’
‘You’ve got a good job,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I’ll see you later then …’
‘We’ll have a fish and chip tea if you like,’ Billy said. ‘I’ll be finished here soon after two, and then I’ve got a job to do for my boss … so I’ll be round to pick you up about five … if that’s OK?’
‘Yeah, I’ll do some studying until you come,’ she said and turned away. She walked through the market after she left Billy, glancing at the various stalls, but not really interested in buying anything. Just as she was about to leave to catch her bus, she saw a van pull up at the back of one of the stalls and a man opened the door, starting to unload armfuls of clothes. One blouse caught her eye in particular, because it was an exact copy of one she’d finished making only that morning. Yolande had checked it as perfect and put it out on their rails – now here it was being delivered to a market stall. Without really thinking what she was doing, Mary Ellen walked up to the man unloading. ‘Excuse me, would you mind telling me where you got that yellow blouse please?’
The man glared at her, his eyes narrowed and wary. ‘What’s it to you?’ he asked. ‘Clear orf or I’ll give you a thick ear …’
Mary Ellen saw that he meant what he said; there was something threatening about him that made her shudder inwardly. Obviously, he would win any argument between them. She took another long look at the blouse; it was the one she’d finished that morning, she was sure of it, because even if another manufacturer had got hold of the same material they wouldn’t have used the same buttons or put the frill on the sleeve just above the cuffs as she had.
Instead of going home, Mary Ellen returned to Sam’s workshops and went into the saleroom. Sam was there alone, looking at the book in which their sales were recorded. He looked surprised to see her.
‘Did you sell that pretty yellow blouse I made this morning? It was yellow voile and I used those new pearl buttons and put a frill on above the long cuffs …’
‘It was the first of our new line,’ Sam said, frowning. ‘Yolande showed it to me when she put it out this morning at eleven o’clock … why?’
‘I just saw it being unloaded on a market stall,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I asked where he’d got it and he told me to clear off or he’d hit me … and that blouse was perfect, too expensive for most market traders …’
‘I haven’t sold it … let’s have a look,’ Sam said and went to the rail that held their range of blouses. It took only a minute or so to discover that the blouse was gone … ‘You’re right, it isn’t here – and it hasn’t been sold. I’m the only one here this morning and I’ve had just one customer.’
Mary Ellen nodded, because most Saturdays were quiet in the showroom; the traders came in earlier in the week to buy because Saturdays were their busiest days on the markets.
‘So someone took it …’ Mary Ellen was puzzled. ‘If you had only one customer … did anyone else come in here?’
‘No …’ Sam thought for a moment. ‘Yes, that new girl was here when Mr Cameron’s men came to collect his order.’
‘Anna …’ Mary Ellen hesitated, because she didn’t want to lay the blame on a girl who was trying hard to keep her job. ‘Who came to collect the goods?’
‘A couple of men Mr Cameron sent to pick up the goods he bought the other day.’
‘Mr Cameron – yes, I’ve seen him in here buying. He seemed nice …’ Mary Ellen considered her next words carefully. ‘Do you think one of his men could be doing the stealing on his own account?’ It was unthinkable that a man like Mr Cameron would stoop to steal from another trader.
‘I was thinking the same thing.’ Sam looked worried. ‘I’ve known Cameron for years and always thought him honest, but it is possible that he employs a crook to pick stuff up for him. I’ll speak to him this weekend and ask him whether he thinks it is possible. If he vouches for his men I’m afraid that only leaves us with one alternative, Mary Ellen …’
‘Yes,’ she let out a sigh. ‘She’s been doing so much better and she really needs this job. Will you let me have a word with her, Sam, before you accuse her?’
He hesitated then nodded his head. ‘I trust you and Billy more than anyone, Mary Ellen. It seems impossible that a young girl should be behind all this theft, but it can’t go on. I have to find the thief …’
‘I feel really angry about that blouse,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I spent ages finishing it properly, because it was the first of a new line and now it’s on the market for sale, probably at half the price it should be.’
‘Well, there’s not much we can do about that now, except change the styling of that line slightly. I thought I’d got things covered with those mirrors …’ He broke off with an exclamation of annoyance as he noticed that one of the mirrors had been turned up to the ceiling. ‘So that’s how they did it – whoever it was.’
‘It’s no use having mirrors they can turn,’ Mary Ellen said, following his gaze. ‘You need to nail it to the wall somehow, Sam …’
‘Yes, but what will they come up with next?’
Billy hesitated as he approached Mr Connolly’s warehouse. He saw someone leaving and recognised his cocky strut. What was Stevie doing here? As far as Billy knew he worked for a nightclub behind the bar – so why was he coming from Mr Connolly’s office?
‘Stevie?’ he said, making the other man aware of him. ‘What are you doin’ here? I didn’t know you worked for Mr Connolly?’
Stevie grinned. ‘Just shows yer don’t know everythin’, don’t it? Didn’t yer know Connolly owns them nightclubs? His name ain’t over the door or anywhere you could find out, but he’s the owner and he owns a lot more an’ all … he’s got his finger in a lot of pies round ’ere …’
‘I thought he was an honest businessman …’ Billy said lamely, though his suspicions had been growing recently.
‘Yeah, you, me and the rest of ’em,’ Stevie said with a grin. ‘Ain’t yer got no idea what yer doin’, mate?’
‘I’m minding Connolly and collecting some rents for him …’
‘Yeah, if you say so …’ Stevie burst out laughing and walked off shaking his head. Billy felt a cold shiver at his nape. What had he got himself into now?
He wanted to turn around and walk away, but then he’d be looking for a job again, and he was enjoying his work – except for the s
ullen looks he got from some of the market traders. Had he been collecting protection money these past couple of weeks?
Billy was sick at the thought. Connolly had taken him for a right mug – and Stevie must have been laughing his head off after Billy’s boast that he wasn’t a thief.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away, wondering what to do for the best. It was unlikely he would ever find a job that paid as much as this one and yet he didn’t want to be a part of any filthy protection racket …
CHAPTER 19
‘Now what are we going to do with you two?’ Ikey said one morning after they’d snatched June from her foster parents. They’d spent two nights in a room Ikey had taken for the purpose, the brother and sister in a single bed and him in the armchair with a blanket thrown over him. ‘It isn’t fitting for you to stay here with me all the time so I think now that June is over the first shock of her escape, we’d best throw ourselves on Sister Beatrice’s mercy …’
‘You wouldn’t?’ Archie stared at him in horror. ‘She’ll only betray us – give June back to that awful woman and send me back to Halfpenny House …’
‘Don’t you trust me yet?’ Ikey’s eyes met his and his calming influence made Archie flush.
‘Yeah, ’course I do,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t trust her, that’s all …’
‘I admit that it may appear she let you down once, but I’m inclined to believe that when presented with the truth she will be on your side. You went to her at the start, Archie, but then you had no proof. Now we know what those people did to June … Besides, do you want her on the streets when we’re working?’
Archie looked at his sister. She was sitting on the bed, her head bowed and he felt a wave of misery as he realised he didn’t know how to cope with this new June. His sister had always been full of spirit, ready to fight him and the whole world, but now she looked pathetic, a frightened little girl. She’d cried all the first day and Ikey had left them alone to comfort each other, but now she was just quiet and unlike the sister he’d known. Surely Sister Beatrice wouldn’t send her back once she’d seen what had happened to her at that place?
