Tiger Ragtime (38 page)

‘She’s upset about David and it’s a lot to take in. A few short weeks ago she was working dawn till dusk in the bakery and playing in the pubs for shillings.’

‘And now she’s heading for the high life.’

‘I only hope she’s happy there and can live it as long as she wants.’ Edyth went into the kitchen.

Micah followed her. ‘That’s an odd thing to say, Edyth.’

‘I’m worried about her.’

‘Don’t be. After her success in the club last Saturday Aled James needs her more than she needs him. He’ll look after her better than he did David.’

‘I hope you’re right, Micah,’ she said fervently. ‘Sandwiches.’ She lifted the loaf from the bread bin and set it on the chopping board. ‘Cheese or ham?’

Tired of talking about Gertie and upset by Aled’s allegations, Anna made tea for both of them and took hers upstairs to her room, leaving Aled to wait for Gertie in the kitchen. For once it was deserted. Aled sat in one of the easy chairs next to the range, picked up a copy of the
South Wales Echo
, flicked through it, and waited for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He left his chair and went into the passage that led into the hall three times only to see other men leave before Charlie Moore walked straight down the stairs and out through the front door. Charlie didn’t look back. Aled was glad, he wanted to be certain of his facts before he confronted the man.

Deciding to give Gertie a few minutes to dress before going upstairs to see her, Aled returned to his chair. No sooner had he sat down, than Gertie wandered into the kitchen in a thigh-length see-through green negligee, green French knickers, and a pair of white stockings held up by sequin-encrusted garters.

She took a cigarette from an open packet on the kitchen table, filched a spill from the wooden holder on the mantelpiece, and bent over the fire to light it. She didn’t see Aled sitting still and quiet with the newspaper folded on his lap until after she’d lit her cigarette. She shook out the spill, threw it on the fire, and gave him her wide professional smile. ‘Have you come to see me?’

‘Who else?’ he asked softly.

She flicked up the corner of her negligee and lifted the leg of her knickers. ‘You know the way to my room.’

‘For what I want to do to you, down here is fine, Gertie.’

‘This is the public room, anyone can walk in. I wouldn’t want the other girls to see us at it. Not in here. But if you’re into people watching –’

‘As far as I’m concerned the whole world is welcome to watch what’s about to happen here. Sit down, Gertie.’

‘If you want me to strip …’

‘You couldn’t be wearing much less than you are now.’

‘Want to make a bet on it?’ she whispered provocatively.

‘Sit down,’ he repeated. He hadn’t raised his voice but when Gertie looked into his eyes, the blue had turned to unflinching steel. She sat.

Aled reached into the inside pocket of his suit, removed his wallet, opened it and peeled off a large white five-pound note from a roll tucked into the back. He held it up in front of her.

‘Five pounds …’ Her eyes rounded.

‘Which could be yours.’

Gertie ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them.

‘What would I have to do to earn it?’

‘Give me information.’ He watched beads of sweat form on her forehead.

‘What kind of information?’ She lifted her chin, putting on a show of bravado.

‘You can tell me exactly who ordered you to go to the coppers, and finger David Ellis as a bookie’s runner.’

‘I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.’

‘Yes, you do,’ he contradicted her calmly. ‘You went into the Mount Stuart pub around two o’clock this afternoon with a rookie constable straight out of training school. You pointed out David Ellis to him and told him that David was taking bets.’

‘It’s no secret that David is a bookie’s runner. He told me so himself.’

Aled sat back in his chair, took his cigar case from his pocket, removed a slim black cigar and tapped the cut end on the closed case. ‘How long have you lived on the Bay?’ he asked, conversationally.

‘About a year. Why do you want to know?’ she demanded.

‘I’m surprised a year hasn’t been long enough for you to learn the first unwritten law of Tiger Bay. You never grass on your neighbours, not even if they murder your father and rape your mother.’ He took his lighter from his pocket, lit his cigar and drew on it. ‘I’m asking you for the second time, Gertie. Who put you up to grassing on David Ellis?’

‘No one,’ she answered defiantly. But she saw him watching her rip at the bitten edges of her nails. She pushed her hands beneath her thighs and sat on them.

‘I don’t believe you.’ He returned his lighter, cigar case and wallet to his pockets.

‘It’s true. David and I went to Barry Island yesterday and we quarrelled there.’

‘I know. I also know that the police found his wallet in your room.’

‘It was empty when David left it there,’ she snapped pre-emptively.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, it was.’

‘You said you quarrelled with David.’

‘I did.’

‘About what?’

‘Nothing.’ She squirmed uneasily on her chair.

‘In my experience people rarely quarrel about nothing.’ He flicked his ash into the grate.

‘We were at the funfair. I talked to a couple of soldiers, that was all. David got jealous.’

‘Because you were touting for trade.’

‘I wasn’t.’ Her voice rose precariously. ‘I was just being friendly, that’s all. David took it the wrong way. He said some horrible things about me. And I wanted to get my own back on him,’ she blurted furiously. ‘That’s why I went to the police this afternoon.’

‘You wanted to get your own back on David enough to put him in gaol?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wasn’t that a little extreme? Even for a tart?’

‘I was angry.’

‘You’re sorry now?’

‘No.’ She tossed her head in the air and flicked her hair back from her forehead. ‘David had it coming to him.’ He looked her in the eye.

‘I am now asking for the third and last time: who put you up to fingering David and the others?’

‘What others?’

‘Don’t play games with me, Gertie,’ he threatened coldly.

‘No one put me up to anything –’

‘Come in, Aiden.’

Gertie turned her head and saw Aiden Collins standing in the doorway.

‘Boss,’ Aiden acknowledged.

‘You heard me ask the lady a question.’

‘I did, boss,’ Aiden replied softly.

‘Find out the answer. I’ll be waiting with Freddie in the car.’ He handed Aiden the five-pound note and his cigar.

Gertie shrank back even further into her chair and watched Aled leave. He closed the door behind him.

Aiden moved swiftly. Catching Gertie unawares, he grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her off the chair.

Closing his right hand around both her wrists he yanked her arms high behind her back. She screamed.

‘Talk, or we’ll carry on this conversation upstairs in your room. People expect to hear screams coming from a whore’s bedroom.’ He drew on the cigar until the end glowed crimson. Then he held it, poised above her face.

‘It was Charlie Moore,’ she gabbled hastily. ‘He was running the book down here before you lot moved in … he wanted all your boys picked up … it was Charlie …’

Aiden inhaled on his cigar again; the tobacco crackled with the heat. He heaved her arms higher and she screamed again.

‘Who is behind Charlie Moore?’

‘No one is behind Charlie Moore. He has all the money he can spend. His family are rich. He was the most powerful man on the Bay before you and Mr James came here. Please,’ she begged when he drew on his cigar again. ‘That’s the truth, I swear it.’

Aiden dropped her arms and released her. She fell back into the chair.

Anna walked in. She saw Gertie trembling and looked at Aiden.

‘You should be more careful who you give house room to, Mrs Hughes.’ Aiden flung the five-pound note on to Gertie’s lap. ‘Buy yourself a one-way ticket out of here. I hear they quite like Welsh girls in Cork.’ He tossed the remains of the cigar on to the fire and left the house.

From the moment Micah picked him up at the police station, David kept expecting a lecture but Micah made a couple of innocuous remarks about the weather, drove him to the mission, and left him with Moody, who made him and a crowd of seamen a waffle supper. The sailors produced a couple of bottle of aquavit to wash down the waffles and shortly afterwards they started singing. The party spirit was at its height when Micah reappeared to remind David that he had to be up early in the morning. He showed him to his own bedroom and left.

David tossed and turned on the thin mattress for most of the night, listening to the singing and raucous laughter of the Scandinavians. He felt he had only just closed his eyes when Micah came in and shook him awake. To David’s surprise, Micah was already washed, shaved, and dressed in a dark three-piece suit, sober tie, and white shirt and collar.

‘Here’s a cup of coffee. I hope you take milk and sugar. There’s a razor, shaving soap, and ordinary soap on the washstand. I’ve brought warm water for you to wash. Don’t be long. I want to get away by a quarter to seven. We’ll breakfast on the way.’

‘But I don’t have to be at the magistrates’ court until half past eight …’ David found himself talking to the door. He rose, washed, dressed, and shaved in record time and left the bedroom. There was no sign of Micah in the public room that adjoined the bedroom. He went downstairs to Micah’s office, which was also empty, saw that the front door of the mission was open and found Micah outside, warming up the engine of his van.

He climbed into the front passenger seat and stared sleepily out of the window as Micah drove up Bute Street. Halfway along, Micah pulled up in front of a cafe and killed the engine.

‘Why have you stopped?’ David asked, lack of sleep making him irritable.

‘Breakfast.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘We’re meeting someone.’

David looked in through the I window. He saw Harry sitting at a table. ‘So this is where you two give me the “we told you so” lecture.’

‘This is where we have breakfast.’ Micah opened the van door.

‘Now I know why you didn’t say anything to me when you picked me up at the police station last night. You talked to Harry on the telephone and the two of you decided –’

‘We decided nothing, David,’ Micah broke in. ‘You made all the decisions that had to be made when you broke the law and got yourself arrested.’

‘You may as well get it off your chest now.’ David folded his arms.

‘I’ve nothing to get off my chest,’ Micah said. ‘I said my piece when I discovered that you’d taken the job of bookie’s runner. Harry, Edyth, Judy, me – we all tried to persuade you to change your mind, and stop working for Aled James, but you wouldn’t listen to any of us. It’s too late for recriminations now. All that’s left for you, Harry, and me to talk about is how best to deal with this bloody awful mess you’ve got yourself into.’

David was shocked. It was the first time he’d heard Micah swear. ‘Neither you nor Harry have to do anything,’ he said. ‘Aiden Collins came to see me in the police station last night. He has got me a first-class attorney –’

‘Solicitor,’ Micah corrected. ‘You’re in Britain, not America.’ He stepped out of the van on to the pavement. ‘I’m hungry. Do you want me to order breakfast for you? They do a good full English breakfast here: bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread, and laver bread.’

‘I’m not hungry,’ David said sourly.

‘It might be your last chance to eat for a while.’

‘All right, I’ll have the breakfast,’ David agreed, embarrassed and angry at having put himself into a position where he was beholden to both Harry and Micah.

‘How do you like your eggs?’

‘Fried.’

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea.’ David added ‘Please,’ but by then Micah had entered the café and joined Harry.

David left the van, closed the passenger door and stood, shivering, on Bute Street. The chill in the air and the mufflers tied around the necks of the workmen painting the windows of a bank lower down the street announced the arrival of autumn. Even at this early hour the street teemed with traffic, and David wondered if the people on the Bay ever slept.

A milk cart had stopped at the side of the road opposite. Its khaki-coated driver was busy ladling milk from a churn into the jugs of a queue of housewives who were gossiping whilst they waited their turn to be served. A road sweeper was piling rubbish on to a giant dustpan. Half a dozen shabbily dressed men were walking, heads down, caps pulled low over their faces, towards Penniless Point.

David looked at the watch Micah had retrieved from the police along with the rest of his personal possessions. It was almost seven o’clock. Another hour and a half and he would have to be in court. And he didn’t even know where it was.

Despite Micah’s assurance, he braced himself for a dressing-down, pushed open the door of the I and went inside.

‘David, sit down. Your breakfast is on its way.’ Harry pulled out the chair next to him. An elderly waitress appeared with a pot of tea and one of coffee. She put them on the table.

‘I’ll bring your hot water now, gentlemen.’

‘Thank you, Mavis. How’s your husband?’ Micah asked.

‘Crippled with rheumatism, but thank you for asking, Micah. How’s your sister?’

‘Burgeoning.’

‘You’ll make a daft, soft touch of an uncle.’ She bustled off.

‘And how are you?’ Harry asked David after she’d left.

‘Fine.’

‘Really?’ Harry pressed him.

‘If you’re going to have a go at me …’

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘You’ve enough problems on your plate, David, without me adding to them.’

‘So why am I here?’ David demanded.

Micah poured him a cup of tea and pushed it across the table towards him. ‘To have breakfast.’

‘I could have eaten that at the mission or Helga’s.’

‘Not Helga’s.’ Micah sugared his tea and passed David the bowl. ‘The police insisted that you could only leave the station on condition you stayed at the mission.’