by Ron Thomas
‘So, your Benny’s boy. I’ve heard about you.’ Meggsie turned to see that Tilly Devine was standing beside him, though he’d not noticed her approach.
‘I worked at the Benny’s fruit shop until it burnt down,’ Meggsie replied.
‘The way I heard it, you were the hero of the hour,’ Tilly said.
‘The firemen were there pretty quickly,’ Meggsie replied modestly.
‘Well, lots of boys your age would have skedaddled out of there. How is Benny doing these days?’
‘There’s not much improvement. Apparently, it will take a long time.’
‘He’s a tougher little bastard than he looks, Benny. I heard he faced down that arsehole Bruhn and a half dozen of his mob. I’d have liked to have seen that!’ Tilly said with feeling.
Meggsie smiled, realising that Benny’s legend was growing as it was told and retold. ‘That’s what he did, all right,’ he replied.
Another man emerged from behind the curtain, closely followed by Nellie Cameron. She gave him a discrete peck on the cheek. This time, the man had a smirk across his face.
‘Now, be a good boy, Roddy, and go straight home to your missus,’ Nellie murmured provocatively as he turned to leave. She noticed Tilly and Meggsie, and immediately approached them.
‘I see you’ve met Mrs Devine, Gilby,’ she said. ‘Be nice to her. She owns the place, and a dozen others besides.’
The sound of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs cut the conversation short.
‘Come out the back and I’ll show you the ropes,’ Nellie said. She quickly grabbed him by the hand and almost pulled him through the beaded curtain and into the half light of the corridor, lit only by the red lamp he’d seen from the street. He was about to say something, but she put her finger to her lips and continued into the bedroom, then closed the door behind them. It was the same bedroom, with the same beaded lampshade he remembered.
‘It’s better the Johns don’t see you,’ she said. ‘You are supposed to be invisible.’ Meggsie just looked mystified.
‘Well, lovie,’ Nellie said, ‘It’s like a little play, with four actors. There’s me, you, there’s Charlie, and there’s the other bloke, we’ll call John. This is how it goes. You are hiding under the bed. I bring the John in and we … get to it, you know. As soon as we’re banging away, you slip out and lift the John’s wallet, then climb back under. I make enough noise so’s he can’t hear you, and make sure I’ve got his full attention.’ Meggsie wasn’t all that sure how Nellie was going to do that, but it sounded mighty interesting. He let his fifteen-year-old imagination tour his way around the possibilities and felt a hardening in his pants.
‘Just as the John’s getting to the custard strokes,’ Nellie went on, ‘Charlie starts banging on the door and screaming. The John panics and I tell him it’s my husband and he’s a homicidal maniac.’ She couldn’t resist a smile.
‘I put the breeze up him, then I let him out down the fire escape …’ She looked into Meggsie’s eyes. ‘He’s gone and I’ve got the wallet. That’s all there is to the gentle art of gingering,’ she added.
Meggsie had been following her description closely, and a few moments ago, he’d had the wallet. Her presumption that it suddenly leapt unaided from his possession to hers told him John wasn’t the only victim of the scam. His knowledge of how the system worked had grown since he’d met Guido. He’d begun to realise that a boy has to fight for his corner.
‘How much is my share? What’s in it for me?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Five bob,’ Nellie replied without blinking an eye. ‘That’s pretty good money for a fifteen-year-old. It’s only ten or fifteen minutes’ work, Meggsie.’ To emphasise the point, she pinched her two fingers together and mimed lifting the wallet.
‘Not if he finds me under the bed, it’s not,’ Meggsie said cynically. ‘He’d likely kill me. It’s OK for you. You would just say you had never seen me in your life and help him beat the shit out of me.’
‘Ten bob, then.’ Meggsie thought about that for a moment. He’d seen the amount of money in some of the wallets at the game, and he decided on the spot that it was a partnership or nothing. He shook his head.
‘I want twenty-five percent,’ he said quietly.
‘Oh shit, I’m being mugged by a friggin’ fifteen-year-old! Help! I’m the one that has to put up with the bastards groping me, breathing their bad breath on me and dribbling.’
Meggsie thought for a moment ‘You’re right, Nellie. I reckon that’s worth fifty percent and I only get twenty-five,’ he replied. ‘For the risk.’
‘Sometimes, their wallet’s not got much in it,’ she said. ‘If they are spending their last few quid on a bang, it might even be empty. Some of them are smart enough to take their money out and hide it, you know, in their sock of something.’
This time it was Meggsie’s turn to smile. ‘You aren’t trying to tell me you’d ginger someone unless you had already seen that their wallet was stuffed with the folding stuff, are you, Nellie? You’re not that green.’ This time she returned the smile.
‘All right. Twenty percent. But don’t tell Charlie. He only gets a pound for bashing on the door.’ Meggsie had learned from Yosef Abrahams to build in a little fat for negotiation’s sake, and twenty percent was a better outcome than he’d expected.
‘Twenty percent it is,’ he replied.
Nellie walked to the door, then turned to him.
‘Just wait here, and when you hear us coming, just slide under the bed, and away we go!’ she said cheerfully.
***
Meggsie sat down on the floor and peered under the bed. There was a layer of dust and a large, porcelain chamber-pot. He pushed the chamber-pot right away to the far side and sat on the edge of the bed to wait.
It was some time before he heard Nellie and her mark in the hall. He barely had time to slide under before the door opened, and Nellie giggled as she pushed it closed. Meggsie could see their ankles and shoes, and could hear Nellie’s coquettish whisperings. Then the mattress sagged and the bed creaked as the man sat on the edge and one after the other, his shoes thudded to the floor followed by his trousers. Within moments, the man’s clothing was in an untidy heap almost within arm’s reach. The light went out, Nellie’s weight came on the other side of the bed, the man rolled to the middle and the mattress sagged until Meggsie could barely move in the confined space. As the bedsprings began to creak and grunting noises began to issue from the bed above, suddenly Nellie’s hand appeared at the side of the bed, with her thumb and index finger forming an ok sign.
Meggsie slid very carefully along the floor and groped around in the darkness as Nellie gasped and moaned in apparent ecstasy and the thumping on the mattress became more urgent. He carefully extracted the man’s wallet and snaked his way back to the shelter of the overhanging blankets, just as a sound of stamping feet exploded in the hall, followed by a violent thumping on the door.
‘I know it’s you in there, Elly!’ Charlie’s voice yelled. ‘Open up, you bitch!’
‘Christ! It’s my husband. He’ll kill me,’ Nellie gasped. The terror in her voice sounded chillingly real. Nellie Cameron was a very convincing actress, Meggsie had to give her that. He could hear real fear in her voice from under the bed.
Suddenly the client’s feet, still wearing socks and garters appeared, mere inches from Meggsie’s nose, and his weight went off the bed.
‘Quick!’ Nellie’s panicked voice croaked. ‘You can get out through the window and down the fire escape!’
‘Open the friggin’ door, bitch!’ Charlie’s voice screamed and the bashing on the door began again. ‘I’m gonna cut you up!’
‘Jesus Christ!’ the panicked client’s voice mumbled, then the clothing began to disappear from the floor one item after another, as it appeared the door must give way under Charlie’s thumping.
‘Never mind the shoes,’ Nellie said. There was a scrape as she pushed the sash window wide open, and a moment later, her well-g
ingered client was gone. Nellie leant out the window and blew him a kiss, Meggsie peered out from under the bed as Nellie opened the door and Charlie came thundering into the room. Seeing the client gone, Charlie’s face broke into a grin. ‘Come on out, Meggs,’ he said with a guffaw, then strode to the window. ‘The bastard’s got away!’ he shouted into the darkness for effect.
Nellie held her hand out and Meggsie passed her the wallet. She opened it, withdrew a pound note and passed it to Charlie, who palmed it, nodded and left, apparently well satisfied.
Meggsie’s share of the takings was five pounds ten shillings, and he had to take Nellie’s word that it was his allotted twenty percent. At that moment, however, it seemed most satisfactory.
***
Over the months that followed, Nellie Cameron’s little team of gingerers worked Friday and Saturday nights, when the out-of-towners came for a wild time among the city lights, and it paid well. None of her chosen punters ever came back for the stolen wallet.
It soon became apparent that Nellie had an innate ability to choose her mark carefully. She always chose well-dressed punters out for a high time on the town, and had an unerring eye for her marks.
Nellie Cameron was always able to put on a front with others, but Meggsie knew her dark side. Inside her, lay a deep and persistent despondency. She seemed at times to be proud of the skills of her profession, but at others, late in the night, he could tell that part of her craved the respectability she’d given up when Nellie had first chosen the life of crime she led.
Wherever Nellie was, the ominous presence of Frank Green was in the shadows nearby. As Guido Caletti’s release from prison approached, Meggsie began to realise that crisis wasn’t far away. Nellie seemed to look forward to seeing Guido, though she hadn’t bothered to visit him during his incarceration, and to all appearances, had become Gunman Green’s girl. He had no idea which of the men Nellie favoured, but certainty knew that a violent confrontation was inevitable, and disturbingly, it became clear that Nellie looked forward to that with some anticipation.
***
Meggsie was always careful to dress in suitable clothing when he was on the job in Cathedral Street. One of the disadvantages of a workplace that was under someone else’s bed, was that it was quite dusty. More than once, Meggsie had almost succumbed to a sneezing fit that would probably have earned him a decent thrashing. Tonight, he seemed particularly susceptible. As he waited, his nose was running, his eyes were watery, and he was suppressing the urge to sniff with some difficulty. Finally, he crept out of Nellie’s bedroom and into the dim, red-lighted corridor and stood in the half-light behind the beaded curtain, hoping to warn Nellie of his affliction.
Unfortunately, Nellie was sitting with her back to him and there was no way of attracting her attention. The man she was with was quite stout, with a red face and wispy, sand-coloured hair that had been combed across in a vain attempt to hide the onset of baldness. He talked in a loud voice that carried across the room and waved his arms in the air with every point. He talked incessantly, used big words, and his voice had a touch of Scottish brogue about it.
Finally, the red-faced man drained his glass and he and Nellie both stood up. As she took the man’s arm, Meggsie realised he would have to make the most of the situation and crept back into the bedroom. Even before he slid under the bed, he was fighting the overwhelming urge to sneeze.
As the mattress sagged under the weight of red-face’s weight, it pressed down hard on Meggsie’s shoulders, pinning him to the floor. He didn’t dare to move as the pressure of a sneeze built again. With infinite care, he moved his hand up, grabbed his nose and squeezed, hard. Slowly, the urge subsided. When red-face’s weight shifted, Meggsie gently began to breathe again, and when Nellie’s hand appeared, he had no trouble retrieving the man’s wallet. But, inevitably, the urge to sneeze returned, and this time, it became irresistible. Just as Charlie began pounding on the door, he finally let go a stifled sneeze.
‘What the hell!’ red-face shouted, and his weight suddenly shifted on the bed. Suddenly the man’s upside-down face appeared. Just as suddenly, it disappeared again.
‘There’s some bastard under the bed!’ he shouted angrily, as the hammering on the door resounded through the room.
‘It’s my husband, It’s my husband!’ Nellie shouted her voice genuinely panicked. ‘He’s got a gun! Quick! You can get out through the window!’
‘I’ll kill the bastard!’ Charlie yelled, right on cue. Suddenly Meggsie felt strong hands grab his ankles and try to pull him from his hide. Desperation gave him strength and he wrapped his arms around the leg of the bed and tried to kick red-face’s hands away. For some seconds, the tug-of-war continued as the door threatened to give way.
‘For Christ’s sake, get out. He’ll kill us both!’ Nellie screamed. It was the last straw, because John’s nerve broke. Suddenly, his grip on Meggsie’s ankles gave way and Meggsie drew his legs up. He watched as red-face’s clothes disappeared one by one from the floor.
‘You bitch!’ Red-Face screamed, as he climbed out of the window, and moments later he was gone. A string of obscenities floated back to them from the stairs. Another moment later, the door opened and Meggsie could see Charlie’s feet. As he climbed out from under the bed, Nellie Cameron giggled, then she laughed. She fell back onto the bed and laughed until she cried. Meggsie began to laugh too, despite having been terrified just moments before. Charlie just stood nonplussed.
‘Wasn’t that bloke the politician fellow? McLeod, McLean?’ Charlie asked as Nellie’s laughter subsided.
‘That’s him,’ Nellie replied, still grinning widely. ‘Loudmouthed bugger. Sandy McLean. Campaigner for law and order.’
Meggsie had no idea who Sandy McLean might be.
Chapter 27
Cathedral Street Beat
Guido arrived in a taxi. It was as though he’d never been away. Meggsie heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock, the door flew open and there he was. Unchanged.
‘Is there any beer?’ Guido asked.
‘Yes, but it isn’t cold. I haven’t been getting ice.’
‘I’ll have one anyway.’ Meggsie went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Toohey’s.
‘What are you doing here?’ Guido asked, after he’d taken a long swig, apparently annoyed to find Meggsie in residence. It seemed Guido had forgotten that he’d had a boarder.
‘I’ve been looking after the place,’ Meggsie replied defensively. He quickly deduced that Guido was expecting to find Nellie, and his heart began to beat faster as he knew what was coming next.
‘Where’s Nellie? Is she here?’ Guido demanded. Meggsie felt a surge of panic, knowing that Caletti would react violently if he knew that Nellie had gone off with his enemy. Guido sensed Meggsie’s unease.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded. ‘When are you expecting her?’
‘I’m not. Nellie hasn’t been here for months. She took her things with her and she’s working at the Doll House,’ Meggsie replied.
‘She’s with that bastard Green, isn’t she?’ Guido shouted, his face reddening with anger. ‘You should have stopped her,’ he added accusingly.
‘I don’t know who she’s with. I’m not Nellie’s keeper,’ Meggsie stammered, realising that his lie might elicit a violent reaction. ‘I did see her with Green once or twice.’
‘Well, I’ll be giving it to that shit!’ Guido shouted. ‘I’ll look after Green in my own way! Every bastard’s moving in on my territory and I’m not going to put up with it, you hear? Hayes got his, Bruhn’s on my list, and so is that shit Green! I’ll deal with all of them!’ Meggsie decided it was a time to keep his mouth shut.
‘What about Milligan, the Cutter and Pozziano. Have they been around? Any of them?’
‘I haven’t seen any of them lately,’ Meggsie replied, his mind racing. Obviously, Guido had something in mind, probably violent, but it wasn’t clear what he was planning.
‘I’m going to have to
find them fast,’ Guido said. ‘Then we’ll see who’s the top dog around here. Have you heard whether Razor Jack’s out of hospital?’
‘I don’t think so. Moe says he wasn’t expected to live. They nailed Tom Kelly for malicious wounding.’
‘I know that,’ Guido replied, grinning. ‘I owe Tommy a favour for that. Anyway, they won’t make that charge stick. Self-defence! They found a razor on Hayes. It would be better if Tommy had killed him, but if he’s still in hospital, that’ll have to do. Without Razor Jack, Bruhn’s vulnerable. Norman and his bunch of arseholes are going to get theirs. I’m back, and I’ll be taking care of business.’ Guido lifted the brown bottle to his lips and drained it. For some minutes, he sat in brooding contemplation.
‘You’re going to have to find somewhere else to bunk,’ he said. ‘Nellie will be moving back in whether she likes it or not,’ Guido said, a little more calmly.
With that, he turned on his heel and marched off into the bedroom, leaving Meggsie to his own thoughts. He wondered what part Guido had played in Jack Hayes’ shooting. Clearly, he intended to wreak violence on the Bruhn gang and Meggsie could only foresee trouble ahead. Recalling Nellie’s departure with Frank Green, he doubted Nellie would return willingly.
‘Are you still here?’ Guido asked from the bedroom door, then he turned and disappeared again.
Meggsie decided he wasn’t sorry to have received his marching orders. Suddenly he was struck by the thought that Guido hadn’t asked about Benito. For a moment, he considered updating Guido unasked, but clearly it wasn’t of great importance. He shook his head and began to pack his few possessions. A few minutes later he left the house without saying goodbye.