Under Gornstock

by Clive Mullis

‘Ah, that would explain it. Evening George, you’re doing a fine job, so you are.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Cornwallis, I try my best.’

  Frankie and Cornwallis sat with their beer and chewed the cud, chatting amiably as punters came in and punters went out until Isabella eventually came downstairs carrying Tulip, the girl’s little fingers scrabbling at her shirt.

  ‘Tulip’s come to say goodnight to daddy,’ said Isabella, walking towards Frankie.

  Frankie looked up, his face ablaze with parental pride.

  Cornwallis regarded his friend, always amazed at the look of wonder on his face every time he set eyes on his daughter.

  Frankie let go of his pint and held out his arms ready to accept his little bundle of joy.

  ‘Me, first,’ demanded George, flinging his cloth down and sauntering over. He gave an understated low growl which set the floorboards humming and a look of contentment wafted over Tulip’s face.

  The little girl chuckled as George bent down low and brushed his hairy face against hers as his big meaty paws engulfed her tiny head. His tongue lashed out and he licked her from chin to forehead; Frankie noticed that the snot from her nose had now disappeared. George didn’t seem to notice.

  Minth joined the queue, an aged dwarf with a long grey beard stretching all the way to the floor. He wore a permanent scowl and had the reputation of being one of the fiercest fighters in the city. Isabella held her daughter low as Minth came close and Tulip leant forward with both hands and grabbed his beard. She giggled and then jerked her head forward, landing a perfect Gornstock kiss right on the dwarf’s nose. He roared with laughter and then planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then Millie the barmaid took a turn and then several other punters pushed in as Frankie waited patiently, basking in the glow surrounding him.

  Finally, Tulip came to Frankie and he accepted her gratefully with great big calloused hands that could mete out retribution just as easily as a gentle stroke. Isabella watched proudly, as did everyone else, most never having seen this side of the big detective before.

  Rose breezed in through the door just as Frankie handed Tulip back to her mum.

  ‘Oh, just in time,’ she cooed as she hurried to complete the ritual. ‘I’d have never forgiven myself if I’d left it too late. Come to Auntie Rose, you little dumpling,’ she added as she held her arms out wide.

  ‘Your new nickname, Jack?’ asked Eddie, whimsically.

  Cornwallis smiled. ‘Just one of many, Eddie, though my favourite is still Billy Big Boll—’

  ‘Jack,’ exclaimed Rose. ‘Not in front of the children.’

  ‘Child,’ amended Cornwallis.

  Rose swept her eyes around the pub and considered for a moment. ‘No, I think I was right the first time.’

  As Isabella and Rose disappeared through the door leading upstairs with Tulip, the pub resumed its normal demeanour: noisy, sweary and very beery.

  ‘Let’s hope she found something out,’ said Cornwallis as Millie placed a couple of pints on the bar in front of them.

  ‘Wha…?’ replied Frankie, miles away with the soft sweet scent of his daughter still clinging to his nose.

  ‘Rose,’ explained Cornwallis. ‘Let’s hope she found out who owns those places.’

  ‘Oh yeah, definitely,’ said Frankie absently.

  Cornwallis sighed and then pushed the fresh pint right under Frankie’s nose.

  The smell of the beer brought the smitten father back to his senses. ‘Sorry, Jack. You say something?’

  ‘Never mind, we’ll find out soon anyway.’

  ‘Find out what?’

  ‘What Rose found out.’

  ‘She find something out?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘Then why did you say she has?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, I thought you said something about “the places.” ’

  ‘I did, but I was just vocalising my hopes and thoughts.’

  ‘Right, so she hasn’t found anything out?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ said Cornwallis, now getting exasperated.

  ‘All right, all right, keep yer hair on. If anyone should get upset it should be me; it were my house that got bricked, after all.’

  ‘I wasn’t getting upset.’

  ‘Wha…? You’re not upset my house got bricked?’

  ‘Yes, of course I am. Frankie, clean your sodding ears out.’

  Frankie held up his palms. ‘Okay, okay. Can’t say nuffing nowadays.’

  They both reached for their drinks and took a gulp.

  ‘Nice pint, this. New on?’ asked Cornwallis, changing the subject.

  ‘Yes, Millie just put it on. Murglebaggers Moth Spit, but I don’t reckon it’s as good as Gliblamers Knobbler. Shame that the Hammerhead Skull Breaker has finished, though.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, it’s not far off, but I agree about the Skull Breaker: good pint that.’

  Frankie nodded his agreement, their taste for beer being very similar. ‘However, Wartblurgers Special is the one for me, but Eddie don’t seem to have a barrel at the moment.’

  Cornwallis inclined his head sagely. ‘Supply problems, I hear. They’re only a small brewery and someone nicked their water.’

  ‘What? How can someone nick the water?’

  ‘Apparently, the pipe to the spring got diverted by the local Morris for their new water feature. A bit of a legal wrangle going on, I hear.’

  ‘Oh, how come I ain’t heard about it?’

  ‘You have, you just haven’t listened.’

  ‘Cheeky bloody sod. When did I hear this then?’

  ‘Last week. In here. Just after Eddie threw out that orangutan for spitting peanuts at everyone.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Tulip weren’t well that night, I had me mind elsewhere.’

  ‘No matter, but that’s why there’s no Wartblurgers.’

  Cornwallis grimaced as someone poked him in the back. He was just about to turn around to remonstrate with them when Rose leaned across and whipped his pint away.

  ‘Nice to see you’re being observant as always,’ she said, holding the glass against her lips.

  Cornwallis eased himself up from the slouch he had adopted and regarded her seriously. ‘We were having an important discussion, if you must know, on how to attain a higher level of being with regard to consumption of locally produced libations.’

  Rose thought for a moment. ‘You mean you were talking about beer.’

  Cornwallis nodded. ‘Has Eddie heard anything about the Wartblurgers?’

  Rose licked the residual beer from her lips, which always sent a shiver down Cornwallis’ spine as he watched.

  ‘Haven’t a clue,’ she replied. ‘But I hope it’s sorted soon.’

  Frankie sighed. ‘So do I,’ he said, a touch of yearning in his voice.

  ‘Well, now we’ve got the important stuff out of the way,’ said Cornwallis. ‘You can tell us what my father told you.’

  Rose put the pint down and signalled to Millie for another. ‘He got his Willy working for me.’

  Cornwallis had just taken a slurp which was somewhat unfortunate as it hit the back of his throat and went down the wrong way. He spluttered, coughed and then wheezed. ‘He did what?’ he asked breathlessly, wiping the droplets from his nose.

  Frankie guffawed.

  ‘Willy is his secretary, Jack.’

  ‘Thank the gods for that, I was wondering there for a moment.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, your father is a perfect gentleman,’ she replied innocently. ‘Anyway, to get back to business, he found out who owns those two houses for us. They are owned by the Ironworkers Guild.’

  Chapter 16

  Entertainment and diversion in a practically empty house, in the dead of night, when you were listening out for the slightest of noises, could be somewhat lacking. The birds on the wallpaper had been counted several times as were the knots in t
he wooden floor.

  The three plain-clothed police officers had made themselves as comfortable as possible in the downstairs front room. The place stank of damp and mildew and the two battered armchairs reflected the state of decay. Fortunately, there were four wooden chairs around a wooden table that seemed to have escaped the ravages of neglect, which at least allowed them to sit down.

  Light was impossible, it would just filter out through the thin, flimsy bit of cloth that acted as a curtain and indicate that the place was occupied.

  They sat in the dark and spoke together, the whispered conversations that they had begun soon developing into the volume of normal conversation.

  Fluffy, the de facto leader of the surveillance team, was not impressed. ‘Youse wants the whole city to know youse ‘ere?’ he asked with a hiss, as he jumped up onto the table. He eyed each in turn. ‘Yeesh,’ he added with a shake of his head before jumping back down and padding softly out of the room.

  Tiffany, Felicity and Dewdrop looked suitably chastised as each looked at the other.

  ‘He has a point,’ said Tiffany quietly, after a pause.

  ‘He does,’ agreed Felicity.

  Dewdrop nodded. ‘I think we may have to rethink our strategy.’

  The two girls turned to face him.

  ‘How?’ asked Tiffany.

  ‘Well, we’re all here sitting nicely around this table,’ he whispered. ‘We haven’t thought this through. We need to spread out.’

  Felicity nodded. ‘You’re right. We’re not here for a chat and Sergeant Morant is trusting us to do the job properly.’

  ‘Exactly, so I suggest I go upstairs to the room next to the attic. One of you stays in here and one goes over to the room next door. We’ll leave Fluffy to do what he wants, as he will do that anyway. If anyone comes in from the attic, I can follow them down and we can nab them from three sides. Unless one of you can come up with something better?’

  ‘No.’ Tiffany shook her head. ‘We’ll go with that.’

  ‘Right, in that case, I’ll get upstairs,’ he said as he slid the chair back, stood up and marched out through the door.

  The authoritative egress only spoilt when he tripped over the cat as it sat by the stairs.

  ‘Bugger,’ exclaimed Dewdrop, ever so quietly as his head hit the wooden stair.

  ‘Keep your noise down,’ called Felicity, but quietly and with emphasis.

  ‘I’m bloody trying to,’ responded Dewdrop, ‘but the sodding cat got in the way.’

  ‘Bloody ‘umans,’ said Fluffy huffily.

  Dewdrop regained his feet and rubbed his head, grimacing ruefully.

  The cat looked up at him, his eyes glinting menacingly in the faint ambient light.

  Dewdrop gulped and then did the only thing he could do under the circumstances. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘My fault,’ he added as he tore up the stairs.

  Fluffy’s nose twitched and then he stood up and followed after, slowly, meaningfully and with deliberation.

  The girls soon sorted themselves out, deciding that Felicity should stay put while Tiffany decamped to the other room.

  Boredom soon set in.

  Having tripped over the cat, Dewdrop felt wary as Fluffy followed him up. The feline may be small but he packed a punch far greater than the sum of his parts, and the feeler had seen the damage the cat could do in the past. He had wondered how vengeful the cat felt, but he sighed in relief as he just lay down next to him and appeared to fall asleep. Appearances though, could be deceptive; you couldn’t take this cat for granted.

  The initial excitement of gaining entrance to the house unseen and then the anticipation of quickly apprehending the felons had dissipated rapidly once they were on their own. Felicity and Tiffany could just about communicate with one another by flapping their arms and hands around, but upstairs, Dewdrop had just Fluffy for company, but a cat revelled in doing absolutely nothing for long periods of time — one of the many things he excelled at.

  The night wore on, the late hours turning to the night hours and then the night hours turning to the wee small hours and then finally, dawn began to break.

  With nothing to show for the night’s work except aching muscles cramped through immobility, the three feelers and the cat stirred and stretched as the light insinuated its way into the dank dark house.

  Peeking out of the front door, they waited for a couple of early workers to clear the lane, and then emerged to greet the morning, disappointed but even more determined to bring a successful conclusion to the task; they hoped they would be given another chance to repeat their surveillance in a few hours time.

  An overriding urge to avail themselves of certain facilities suddenly came to them, and luckily, there was a communal necessity at the end of the lane which received three more deposits in quick succession. Dewdrop and Felicity then headed off, leaving Tiffany to report back to the sergeant.

  Fluffy, with nothing else to do, tagged along behind her.

  Tiffany smiled to herself as she watched her two friends walk off into the distance. She surmised that they might not be too tired for an hour or so when they reached Felicity’s lodgings; if her flat-mate happened to be doing some more overtime, that is.

  Fluffy hissed a warning just as she set off.

  ‘Stays still, don’ts move.’

  ‘Wha…?’

  ‘Twos of ‘em ‘ave just come frew the door. They’s coming this way. Now, give us a fuss.’

  Tiffany felt her heart hammer in her chest as she fought the urge to turn around and stare. A flush flittered across her face as she crouched down and began to tickle Fluffy’s head.

  ‘‘Ere they comes,’ warned the cat out of the corner of his mouth.

  He wasn’t wrong. Two sets of feet kicked up the dirt of the lane as they went past, inches away from her. She looked up briefly and saw the backs of the louts as they jostled playfully with each other, each wearing a backpack. They were unconcerned as they sauntered along, oblivious that a feeler watched them closely.

  Tiffany got her mind sorted. ‘Run after the others, get them back while I follow these two,’ she said quietly to Fluffy. ‘They’re up to something, I know it.’

  The cat cast a quick glance at Tiffany and then pelted away, leaving her hand hovering in the air.

  Tiffany stood up and took a deep breath. The louts turned into Nobble Row but they didn’t appear to be in a hurry, which would give the others a chance to catch up. The thought crossed her mind transiently that she could soon be on her own if Fluffy couldn’t find Felicity and Dewdrop, but then she dismissed it as being a minor inconvenience.

  Fortunately, the street bustled with people in a hurry, hiding her in plain sight as she sat doggedly on the tail of her quarry. She did think that she should be following cattedly, considering the circumstances, but the whimsical thought flew out of her mind as the two louts reached the end of Nobble Row and turned into Collider Square.

  A couple of minutes had passed since Fluffy had scampered off, so she took a quick glance behind in the hope that Dewdrop and Felicity would make an appearance, but they weren’t in sight, leaving her no choice but to continue to follow on her own. All she could do now was to keep her fingers crossed and hope that somehow Fluffy would find her and bring reinforcements.

  The louts elbowed their way through the crowded square and Tiffany had some difficulty in keeping them in sight, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped at a stall selling hot oatcakes from a griddle. A smell of bacon wafted up her nose from another stall and she wondered about the louts taste in food; she knew which one she preferred.

  Tiffany waited, the smell of the bacon teasing her taste buds. The louts finished their breakfast and then scrutinised a piece of paper which had miraculously appeared in the hand of one of them. She frowned, neither of them had fished it out of a pocket, she was certain of that. They were reading what seemed to be a note and the two of them hunched over it as they read. She began to feel anxious, feeling sure that the note
was important and then it dawned on her that she had witnessed a meeting, which would explain the choice of food, but whomever they met had now gone and she berated herself for her lack of observation.

  Something brushed her leg and the touch broke her concentration. She flicked her hand out at the unwanted intrusion and half turned to remonstrate with the opportunistic pervert when she heard a familiar refrain.

  ‘Bastards, can’t they sees me down ‘ere?’

  Tiffany smiled and then she sighed. She turned her head quickly and there were Felicity and Dewdrop hurrying to her side. Fluffy, trying to escape the feet that were crunching down a fraction from his head, dived between her legs for protection.

  She looked down and then crouched, sweeping the cat up in her arms. ‘Better?’ she asked as she stood up.

  ‘Too soddin’ right, it is. Bloody dangerous down there. Youse try being a foot tall in this place. Yeesh!’

  ‘I’ll try to avoid that, if I can.’

  A couple of the people passing close increased their pace accordingly, to get away from the mad cat woman, believing that the nutter talked to herself in different voices. Another, braver man, stuck his head close and put his hand out to touch the cat, but Fluffy hissed with dynamic intensity, startling him into changing his mind.

  ‘You’re brave,’ said Dewdrop when he drew alongside her. ‘I mean, holding him.’

  ‘Not really. He’s a sweetheart,’ she replied, the relief evident as the tension left her face.

  Dewdrop cleared his throat and bit back the reply as he caught the look in Fluffy’s eye.

  Felicity appeared on her other side. ‘What’s happening?’ she asked urgently.

  ‘Those two are happening,’ replied Tiffany, surreptitiously pointing a digit at the two louts just starting to move off. ‘They’re the ones. They came out just as you turned the corner. If we’d waited just a couple of minutes longer we would have had them. I think they’ve just been passed a note, but I didn’t see who passed it.’

  Felicity sighed. ‘Sods law,’ she observed wryly. ‘But we can get them now.’

  ‘We could,’ answered Dewdrop, engaging his brain. ‘But maybe we should follow them for a bit longer. See what they’re up to.’