by Helen Goltz
‘I need to speak with him,’ she said.
‘I’m afraid that is not possible. Is there anything you would like to tell me now?’
He waited as she wrung her hands, all the while staring at the table, and then in a faint voice she answered, ‘No.’
Thomas nodded and left the interview room, instructing the guard she could be returned to the cell.
He had no luck earlier wandering through the Valley district and enquiring about boxing tournaments, but a night visit might produce a different result. He had to find that man.
Chapter 33
The hansom cab pulled up outside the shopfront; a slip of lamplight peeked through the closed curtains of the Corner Bookstore. Inside the hansom, Mr Jo-Jo waited for the signal, as Detective Harry Dart exited first, paid the cabman and opened the door of the bookstore. Getting the nod, in the dark, Mr Jo-Jo slipped from the hansom into the shop unnoticed.
When he entered, he gasped in surprise. He knew to expect Miss Hayward and Mrs Therese Dart, but the setting was breathtaking. By the window, Teddy had set a table for four with candlelight and a small table nearby featured dishes, each covered with silver domes. Teddy stood by the dishes, dressed in a suit, and gave a small bow.
‘Mr Jo-Jo, welcome,’ Matilda said as if greeting an old friend. She offered her hand, and he took it, bowing over it but not presuming to kiss her hand.
‘This is my wife, Mr Jo-Jo,’ Harry said, ‘Mrs Therese Dart.’
Mrs Dart, a woman of round proportions, kindly face and donned in a comfortable floral print, stepped forward and offered her hand. If she was at all alarmed by the countenance of the abundantly small and hairy man in front of her, she hid her surprise well.
‘Madam.’ Mr Jo-Jo took her hand and offered a small bow. He was a man well-versed in gentlemanly behaviour, courtesy of his grandfather’s upbringing.
‘Mr Jo-Jo,’ she said, ‘I am so pleased to meet you.’
Teddy and Mr Jo-Jo exchanged greetings.
Matilda spoke up. ‘Let’s not stand on formality tonight. Shall we go by Harry, Matilda, Jo and Therese? And Teddy of course?’
Therese Dart laughed. ‘Indeed, like old friends.’
‘You have gone to so much trouble,’ Jo said, emotion is his voice. ‘Thank you.’ He encompassed all the guests in his thanks, and then let his eyes travel around the setting so handsomely complemented by the lamps lit in each corner of the bookshop.
‘Now don’t you be fretting about that,’ Therese said, warmly. ‘I’m as much a guest as you are. I’ve arrived at the same enchanting sight and not lifted a finger.’
‘Nor have I,’ Harry admitted.
‘And be assured, Jo, I have done very little,’ Matilda said. ‘I’ll explain while we enjoy dinner.’
‘With Harry’s irregular work hours, it is a treat to have a night out and enjoy new company,’ Therese said, as excited as Jo for the evening ahead.
‘Shall we be seated and dine while the dishes are fresh and warm and then we shall leave you and Harry to browse the books?’
‘Yes please,’ Teddy said, not keen to have his cooking ruined.
‘I’m starving,’ Harry said, pulling out a chair for his wife, and Jo did the same for Matilda.
Jo looked at Teddy. ‘You must be exhausted, Teddy, you’ve worked today as well.’
Teddy shook his head. ‘It’s not a demanding job, Jo, not by any measure. I do only five hours, so it is a pleasure to cook something a little more refined.’
‘Then join us,’ Matilda said, and the party agreed. Teddy tried to talk them out of it, but they insisted. A fifth chair and a place setting were found and soon Teddy introduced each dish and the banter, wine and conversation flowed.
‘This is a beautiful spread. I hate to think of you out of pocket,’ Jo said.
Matilda explained. ‘No one is, I assure you, Jo. My Aunt Audrey is a benevolent lady, and she likes to organise and give. It’s one of her most enduring traits but there’s often a trade involved.’
‘Do tell,’ Harry encouraged her.
‘Well,’ Matilda continued, ‘The bookstore’s owner wants his daughter introduced to a certain society person and Aunt Audrey has the connections. In return, he has offered his store tonight and a book budget for your pleasure.’
Jo gasped but Matilda assured him, ‘It is a small price for an intimate introduction that could be fortuitous to the family.’
Harry continued, ‘When we have finished dinner, Therese and Matilda will head home in a hansom, and you and I, Jo, will browse to our hearts’ content. You have to select five books to take home with you and we can’t leave until you do.’
‘No, that is too generous, and you should accompany Therese home—’
‘—Truly Jo, you do not want to argue with Aunt Audrey, you won’t win,’ Matilda said.
Harry laughed. ‘It’s the truth. I’ve had the pleasure on a few occasions of meeting Mrs Bloomfield, and she is not to be trifled with. Besides, she must get her end of the bargain.’
Jo dabbed his eyes. Such kindnesses were few and far between in his world.
‘And don’t you worry about Harry wanting to get home,’ Therese said, patting her husband’s hand. ‘There’s been many a time I’ve had to pull him from this bookstore with threats of a cold supper. You’ll be like peas in a pod.’
The meal, conversation and company continued, and it was for all present a most memorable and enjoyable evening.
For Mr Jo-Jo, it was one of the happiest nights of his life.
Chapter 34
The City’s Fortitude Valley area had its share of respectable places, less at night. But it wasn’t a respectable venue that Detective Thomas Ashdown was seeking. He was too wired to go home, and he knew the best chance of finding this man – the potential boxer – was in the underground clubs and fighting halls at night. He had little to go on but that the man was shorter than he, wiry, might have been a boxer, mature, and had a nose that had met a fist a few times. It was enough.
‘So where are you taking me since we’re obviously not going to our club?’ Daniel asked his best friend. They stepped down from a hansom in the heart of the Valley area.
‘Well observed, Dan,’ Thomas said, teasing his friend. ‘I’m working, but I thought you might like to keep me company. I’m looking for a man, probably Russian, who boxes, and might be a link in one of my current cases.’
‘Well that’s exciting – the murder at the Freak Show?’
‘That’s it,’ Thomas said, lowering his voice as they walked along.
Daniel moved out of the way of two men brawling and kept stride with Thomas.
‘I know of a place where the boxers wear gloves. Is that what you’re seeking?’ Daniel asked.
‘No. I’m thinking he’s more likely to fight at one of the less than legal venues where bare-knuckle boxing is popular.’
‘You know of these?’ Daniel asked.
‘I’ve made a few arrests.’
They walked a little farther, turned down an offer from several ladies of the night, and then Thomas nudged Daniel into a discreet laneway. Ahead of them was a rowdy party of three men, and Thomas and Daniel followed them towards a small set of iron stairs.
The two men slipped down the stairs behind the group of men as if they were part of their company, and entered a surprisingly large room lit by lamps, with dark curtains covering all the windows. On the far side of the room was a boxing ring, and a bar with numerous tables and chairs filled the remaining space. The two men equipped themselves with a glass of whiskey each not long after. They stood at the back of the room, blended in and watched a few rounds of the fight in the ring as bets were being made and the alcohol flowed.
‘No great talent there,’ Daniel muttered to his friend.
‘True, but some men will bet on anything,’ Thomas said. He scanned the crowd several times, plus the trainers, bookmakers and fighters, and found no one to match hi
s description satisfactorily.
‘We’re out of here,’ Thomas said, and gulped the last mouthful of his whiskey.
‘What? I was just warming up. Thought I might get a round in myself.’
Thomas gave him a wry look, and Daniel chuckled. Leaving the smoke-filled den, Thomas engaged the doorman in some banter, while Daniel lit a cigarette, offering one to the doorman, who accepted, recognising its quality.
‘I saw a good fighter the other night, a wiry Russian he was,’ Thomas said casually. ‘But I don’t remember where I saw him fight, I’m blaming the whiskey.’
‘I know the man,’ the doorman said with a curt nod. ‘Angry bastard.’
‘Is that so?’ Daniel said. ‘Still, we’re not looking to befriend him, just keen to throw a few more dollars on his fights. Is he a regular here?’
The doorman shook his head in the negative. ‘You’ll find him at Joe’s Club. But I’ll give you a tip for nothing,’ he added. ‘Best to bet on him fresh, because after a few fights he gets a bit punch drunk and starts on a losing streak. He’s all front no stamina.’
‘Appreciate that,’ Thomas said with a nod, and adjusted his hat.
The two men moved away as another group arrived, and before Thomas could be recognised by anyone he might have arrested. They made their way to Joe’s seedy joint whose reputation preceded it especially as far as Thomas was concerned. He would have felt better having Harry with him. His partner might have a few decades on him, but he’d boxed a bit in his younger years and could still swing a good punch. Daniel was great company, but his fighting ambitions and bravado didn’t match his talent; he was an artist, after all. The last fight he had was probably in the school grounds. Even another officer by his side would have been helpful – it wasn’t the most savoury of joints, but Thomas conceded it was easier to blend in as two men friends out on a gambling night.
‘It’s been a few years since we’ve taken each other on, but we could have a go in the ring,’ Daniel suggested. He was itching for a fight, needing to release some steam.
‘If I remember, that was your idea then, too. I flattened you and got in serious trouble from your family.’
Daniel laughed. ‘Yes, you are a bad influence, apparently. Anyway, you are probably right, I need to protect my hands as I expect to be hearing about the court appointment in the next few days.’
‘You’re just worried I’ll thrash you again,’ Thomas cut to the chase, ‘but if we’re going to fight anyone tonight, save your energy, because I suspect the Russian will not agree to come in for questioning without a fight.’
They moved around some ambitious traders and the well imbibed until, after a good ten minutes’ brisk walk, they arrived at Joe’s boxing establishment – not that there was a name or sign over the door promoting it.
‘Just in time. I need a drink,’ Daniel said.
Thomas spotted a few of the younger police officers patrolling nearby. He didn’t want to risk drawing attention to himself, but he noted their location should he need back-up. He grabbed Daniel’s arm and pulled him back.
‘A moment,’ Thomas said, ‘just to observe.’ They stood back on the pretence of having a cigarette outside and studied the entrance to the club. The guests that entered appeared not to be scrutinised, and on spotting a well-inebriated party of four, Thomas nudged Daniel, moved behind them and found their way to the smoky and noisy den in a matter of moments. The club was much bigger, and inside were the extremes – gambling men dressed to kill and splashing money around like it was going out of fashion, to the down-and-outers keen for cheap entertainment or to feel and inflict a bit of pain themselves for a quid. Daniel ordered another round of whiskey; fortunately, they had the constitution for it and were well-practised at drinking, as it would be another few rounds until the man in question would present himself.
Thomas settled in to study the crowd, watch, and wait.
‘Oh, get him off!’ Daniel yelled, joining in the chorus of calls, as some poor man was pummelled too many times for comfort. He was dragged out, and a new contender slipped under the ropes to take on the reigning champion.
‘A quid on the newcomer,’ Daniel said.
‘You’re on,’ Thomas took the bet and despite the valiant effort of the current champion, lost the bet and slipped Daniel his winnings. It was forty minutes later when he spotted a likely contender for his Russian boxer.
‘That could be him.’ Thomas nodded toward a newcomer. He watched the man’s every move as the boxer studied the competition, not taking part, yet. Nearing ten o’clock, the man rose and went to the side of the ring. Thomas watched as the Russian man spoke with another, appearing to negotiate for a few moments and then he moved to the back of the ring, stripped off jacket and trousers and in a singlet and shorts approached the ring. He was rough and angry, a man who would inflict damage just because he could, but there were contenders happy to take him on.
Thomas finished his drink and was tempted to place a bet on him. And then with a cheer, the current match ended with a man flat on his back and the angry Russian stepped into the ring with another contender. He had little flair, but his raw energy attracted the crowd, and he had his own following. They knew him and started chanting a word. Thomas leaned forward to pick it up – killer. They were chanting, “Killer”.
Chapter 35
‘Good grief!’ Matilda exclaimed as she glanced out the window of the hansom cab to the passing street. Only ten minutes earlier, she had dropped Mrs Dart home and was now riding the hansom alone to her residence when she caught sight of her brother and Thomas looking the worse for wear and dishevelled. She could have sworn Thomas was bleeding. She rapped on the ceiling of the hansom.
‘Stop please, stop.’
The hansom pulled over and Matilda opened the door.
‘Daniel!’ she called and confirmed her sighting. He turned at the sound of her familiar voice and raised a hand. Thomas did not look as pleased to see her.
‘What on earth…’ she enquired as the two men approached her hansom.
‘I could ask the same about you,’ Thomas said. ‘What on earth are you doing here at night in this area?’ He almost shouted the last few words, and Daniel put a hand on his chest to calm him.
‘I’m returning home from my dinner with your colleague. I’ve just dropped Mrs Dart home.’
‘And your cabman chose to come past this way,’ he said, glaring up at the driver who seemed not to realise that he might have put his lady passenger in any danger.
‘What happened? You’re bleeding, Thomas, and Daniel, you’re completely dishevelled. You have been fighting in public!’
‘It’s fine,’ Daniel said, straightening himself and brushing down his suit as if he regularly fought in the streets on his nights out. ‘We were looking for a man, a boxer, and we found him.’
‘Well, yes, I can see that. Did he win?’ Matilda asked, the ghost of a smile on her face.
‘He did not, thank you, Matilda,’ Thomas said with a smirk.
‘But it was rather exciting following him and then putting him on the spot!’ Daniel said, grinning like a child on Christmas morning.
Matilda sighed. ‘Well, best you stem that blood then,’ she said, not at all squeamish. Growing up with four brothers had cured her of that many years ago.
Thomas withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his nose. Behind them, a young constable arrived.
‘We’ve detained him, sir, and will take him to the lock-up.’
Thomas turned. ‘Thank you, Constable. He is not to be released until I question him in the morning.’
‘Understood, sir,’ the young man said and departed.
Matilda watched Thomas in authority and felt a stirring of pride and something else that made her blush slightly in his presence.
He returned his attention to her brother.
‘Perhaps you could accompany Matilda home now, Dan, our work is done here, and I should h
ead home too and clean up. Thanks for coming out.’
‘I’d do it again anytime. But the night is young, Thom,’ Daniel said, fired up. ‘I think I will find Gideon. Do you wish to come?’
Thom shook his head. ‘I’ve had enough. Besides, nowhere would admit me now. I’ll see your sister home then.’ He tried not to sound too enthusiastic about the suggestion.
‘I am right here,’ Matilda reminded them. ‘The mute sister,’ she said.
Thomas ignored her comments and asked. ‘Did Teddy leave the bookstore when you did?’
‘A little earlier, so he should be at your home now unless he’s taken up street fighting as well,’ Matilda said.
‘Here’s another hansom. I’ll take this one if you are happy to share Tillie’s?’ Daniel asked but not waiting for an answer, hailed the driver and gave them a wave of goodbye.
Matilda moved over to allow room for another passenger and stared at Thomas as he watched her through the open hansom door.
‘Well, come on then, or are you going back for another round?’ she asked.
He looked at his bloodied hands and dirt-ridden suit and, sighing, climbed in beside her. She tucked her gown close around herself and sniffed. Whiskey.
‘If I offend, I can get another cab,’ he said, sitting as close to the hansom door as possible.
‘You offend no more than usual, Thomas,’ she teased him, and he chuckled.
He closed the door, and the hansom moved off.
‘Let me see your hands,’ she said.
‘No, I’ll get blood on your gown. They’re fine,’ Thomas assured her.
‘My gown is dark, blood won’t be noticed,’ she said of her dark navy gown with white trim. Matilda tugged out a white lace handkerchief that was tucked between her breasts and reached for his hand.
‘You’ll ruin it,’ Thomas said.
‘It’s to be used,’ she said, and he reluctantly gave her his hand. She dabbed at his bloodied knuckles, and studied his hand, before releasing it and requesting his other hand. Thomas watched her with great attention. He wasn’t used to being cared for; his mother did not welcome his late arrival and held little interest in running after an infant or putting up with the adventures of a young boy. His father, when not at work, was at his club, and his brother was so much older that he had left home when Thomas was a young boy. The most affection he received was when visiting and staying with Daniel and the Hayward family.