“‘Ah, you’ll have to get some dear friend to ’elp you with that lecture,’ says old Billy; ‘these particular good lectures allas want two. Go an’ get a dear friend to ’elp you an’ make up the five quid between you.’
“So Dido Fox thought it over, an’ made up his mind to take Joe Kelly into partnership over this job. It really was a job as needed two, when he come to think of it serious, an’ then there was the money to be made up to get the tools. So he went to Joe Kelly and let him into it. He didn’t tell him quite everythink, o’ course, in case Joe might be tempted to go in an’ do it himself first. You allus have to be careful about things like that—very careful. He didn’t tell him where he was goin’ to get the tools. He jist said he could get ’em, but there was five quid deposit wanted, and two of it to be paid for the hire. But it appeared Joe was jist as ’ard up as Dido. They couldn’t raise five bob between ’em, let alone five quid.
“Can’t you borrow it somewhere?” says Dido.
“Joe Kelly thought a bit, and then said p’r’aps he could. He wouldn’t tell Dido where he thought he could borrow it, for the same reason that Dido wouldn’t tell him where he could borrow the tools. Each of ’em didn’t want t’other chap to go an’ do it on his own, you see. That’s a thing you ’ave to be careful about, o’ course.
“But no doubt you’ve ’eard somethink about great minds jumpin’ together, an’ that was jist what was ’appenin’ with Dido an’ Joe this time. When Joe stopped to think about who he could borrow five quid off, the fust person he thought of was old Billy Blenkin. There was old Billy, retired an’ doin’ fust-rate at tea-fights an’ lectures, an’ no doubt quite ready to make a bit extry lendin’ five quid just overnight, at good interest. So Joe made up his mind he’d get the needful off old Billy, but was precious careful not to say so to Dido. As for Dido, he was glad enough to think Joe would do the trick, an’ he quite understood why he wouldn’t give away his idea—that was on’y business, an’ each agreed to ’tend to his own department. So Joe, he went off to get the money, an’ said he’d meet Dido the same evenin’ an’ report. When they met in the evenin’ o’ course Dido wanted to know ’ow Joe had got on.
“‘Oh, it’s all right,’ says Joe, grinnin’ and winkin’ very knowin’.
“‘Hooray!’ says Dido, stickin’ out ’is ’and. ‘Where’s the five quid?’
“‘Well,’ says Joe, ‘I ain’t quite what you might call got it, not yet. But it’s all right—I expect I’ll get it tomorrow. The chap don’t ’appen to ’ave it by ’im just now—he’s goin’ to get it. But he’s goin’ to charge two quid for lendin’ it.’
“‘Two quid!’ says Dido. ‘Why, we on’y want it till the next day!’
“‘Yes, so I told ’im,’ says Joe, ‘but he won’t do it under.’
“‘You’re lettin’ ’im swindle us,’ says Dido, gettin’ ratty.
“‘Then ’ow about you?’ says Joe. ‘You’re payin’ two quid just the same to the chap as is lendin’ the tools, and we on’y want them for a night.’
“‘Well, yes, that’s right,’ says Dido thinkin’ of it again, ‘so I am. But it seems a lot. Why, that’s four quid it’s goin’ to cost us; we must make a bit extry out o’ the job that’s all. You get the money tomorrow an’ we’ll do the job tomorrow night. You didn’t tell ’im what the five quid was for did you?’
“‘Is it likely?’ says Joe. ‘Not much I didn’t. Oh no; I told ’im a nice little tale o’ my own. He don’t know nothing.’
“Now p’r’ays you’ll begin to catch on to old Billy Blenkin’s game,” Snorkey proceeded. “When Dido come after the tools he thought he see ’is way to makin’ ’em pay still, even though the lectures was stopped. An’ then when Joe Kelly came along an’ wanted to borrow five quid at interest, he thought he see ’ow to make a bit more still. He hadn’t got any five pound of ’is own to lend, bein’ ’ard up, in fact, consekence o’ the lectures being stopped. But Dido Fox was goin’ to lease five pound with ’im for the tools, and that was just what Joe Kelly wanted, for one night only. So, Bein’ a man o’ genius, thinks old Billy, why not lend Dido Fox’s five quid to Joe Kelly and do a double stroke? What ho!
“The consekence of all this was that next mornin’ Dido Fox ’ad ’ardly got out o’ doors when who should he see but old Billy Blenkin, pretendin’ to be walkin’ down the street by accident.
“‘Good mornin’,’ says old Billy, very casual. ‘Wasn’t you sayin’ somethink about borrowin’ my kit o’ tools for a very special job—lecture, I mean—an’ leavin’ five pounds deposit, me to ’ave two for lendin’ ’em?’
“‘Why, yes, o’ course,’ says Dido, surprised to find old Billy so ’alf-forgetful. ‘Though it wasn’t me as proposed payin’ the money.’
“‘I think it must ’a’ been,’ says old Billy lookin’ at ’im very ’ard, ‘but anyhow that was the arrangement. When will that there lecture come off?’
“‘Why,’ says Dido, ‘I was thinkin’ of tonight.’
“‘Fust-rate,’ says old Billy. ‘It’ll be a fust-rate evenin’ for a lecture, the nights bein’ so dark just now.’ And then he sticks out ’is ’and an’ says, ‘Where’s the five pound?’
“‘I ain’t got it,’ says Dido.
“‘Ain’t got it?’ says old Billy. ‘What dy’e mean? ’Ow are you goin’ to do that—that lecture? You can’t do it without the tools, an’ you can’t ’ave them without the money, you know. You ain’t expectin’ that are you?’
“‘Oh, no,’ says Dido, ‘that’s all right. I know what I’ve got to pay. I ain’t got the money yet, that’s all. But I shall get it some time today.’
“‘When?’ says old Billy, very eager. ‘You must let me know when you’ll bring it round, ’cos I might be out.’
“‘Well, I must see my pal first,’ says Dido. ‘But s’ppose we say seven this evenin’?’
“So they made it seven in the evenin’ an’ Dido went off to find Joe Kelly an’ get the money. He didn’t find him for hours an’ when he did find him at last o’ course Joe ’adn’t got the money—not a cent of it.
“‘I ain’t managed it yet, Dido,’ he says ‘but I’m goin’ to ’ave it for certain tonight.’
“What time?’ says Dido.
“‘Eight o’clock,’ says Joe.
“You’re awful slow,’ says Dido. ‘Can’t you get it a bit sooner?’
“‘Well, I tried to, but I couldn’t,’ says Joe. ‘The chap says he’s got important business up to then.’
“‘Where’s his place?’ says Dido.
“‘Oh, it’s a pretty good way off,’ says Joe off-handed like. Because you see he wasn’t going to give Dido a ghost of a chance o’ leavin’ him in the lurch.
“‘Well, if it’s a pretty good way off,’ says Dido, ‘it’s goin’ to crowd up our evenin’ an’ p’raps we shall have to put the job off. I was goin’ to get the tools at seven, but if you can’t get the money till eight, an’ then ’ave to fetch it a long way, very likely I shall miss the chap I’m getting the tools from.’
“‘Can’t ’elp it,’ says Joe. An’ Dido agreed they couldn’t.
“So Dido went ’ome and sat down to smoke a few pipes an’ wait till Joe brought the money in the evenin’. But about ’alf-past seven up comes old Billy Blenkin after the money, blowin’ like a grampus an’ most outrageous shirty.
“‘I thought you ’ad an appointment with me at seven o’clock at my place,’ says old Billy. ‘I’m a man o’ business,’ he says, ‘an’ very busy, an’ I can’t afford to ’ave my time wasted in this ’ere disgraceful way. People as can’t keep appointments shouldn’t make ’em. Where’s that five pound?’
“‘Ain’t got it,’ says Dido.
“‘But—but you was goin’ to bring it round at seven,’ says old Billy.
“‘I know I was,’ says Dido; ‘but I’ve bin di
sappointed—in the City; an’ it ain’t come yet.’
“‘But what about that job o’ yours—the lecture?’ says old Billy, in a mighty fluster. ‘’Ow are you goin’ to do that tonight?’
“‘Looks as though I should ’ave to put it off,’ says Dido; ‘till tomorrow, any’ow. Unless I get the money in time tonight though I don’t know as it’s likely.’
“Old Billy Blenkin just sat an’ spluttered. His short time at the mission-’all had bin just enough to spile ’is flow o’ language, an’ at first he found it ’ard to get goin’. But be did get goin’ presently, an’ he called Dido Fox most things he could think of, except a genelman o’ business-like ’abits. ‘Why’ says Billy, ‘you’re puttin’ me to more trouble and ill-convenience over this ’ere little matter than what I’d ’a’ taken to do your bloomin’ lecture myself. An’ I’ve got a particular reason for wantin’ to finish this bit o’ business tonight, an’ I can’t wait. I’ve got another appointment—an important appointment—at eight. You’re a perfeck noosance. Now, look ’ere. S’pose you don’t come round with the money tonight, will you make a solid, ’ard, final, dead-beat, settled, derry down, rock-bottom agreement to bring it tomorrow mornin’?’
“‘Why, yes,’ says Dido, ‘you can bet your ’ead on that. Shall I come to your place?’
“‘No,’ says old Billy. ‘I don’t want you comin’ there in daylight I’m a man o’ business with a reputation to keep up, now. Come to the Carpenters’ Arms at eleven.’
“‘An’ will you ’ave the tools there then?’ says Dido.
“‘O’ course I shall,’ says the old man. ‘I keep my appointments. I don’t make fools o’ people in matters o’ business.’ An’ with that off goes old Billy to keep his appointment with Joe Kelly.
“So when Joe Kelly turns up at Dido’s about an ’our later, ‘Hello,’ says Dido; ‘’ere you are at last. Hand over the pieces.’
“‘Ain’t got ’em,’ says Joe.
“‘What? Ain’t got ’em now?’ says Dick fair gaspin’.
“‘No, I ain’t,’ says Joe. ‘It’s a fresh caper now.’
“‘What fresh caper?’ says Dido.
“‘When I see the chap at eight,’ says Dido, he hummed an’ hah’d a bit, an’ seemed to want to put me off again. But I told ’im it was no good; I must ’ave the money tonight. Then he said all right what security was I goin’ to give; an’ that flummoxed me. I ’adn’t got no security.’
“‘Security?’ says Dido; ‘what’s this about security? Joe Kelly, you’re a common flat—a mug! I never ’ad sich a fool of a pardner! You undertake to get this ’ere five quid as we want for this ’ere job o’ business an’ you come ’ere puttin’ me off time after time like this an’ makin’ a perfeck fool o’ me when the chap with the tools comes an’ wants ’is five pound, so as I ’eve to make all sorts o’ lyin’ excuses, which lyin’ comes, most unnachral to me, an’ now at last, when it’s quite fixed up final, you come an’ talk about security! You’re lettin’ that money-lendin’ bloke o’ yours mug you, Joe Kelly. What’s the good o’ you? Ain’t you got no credit? What does he want security for?’
“‘Well, come to that,’ says Joe, ‘what does your bloke want security for? Why, the bloomin’ five quid itself’s security for them tools! Don’t you get chuckin’ your names about so free, Dido Fox. What’s the good o’ you, eh? Ain’t you got no credit? I don’t wonder you ain’t. ’Ow do I know this ’ere ain’t all a plant for you to get five quid out o’ me? Who is this chap as is goin’ to lend you the tools—tell me that?”
“‘Sha’n’t!’ says Dido. ‘Tell me the name an’ address o’ this ’ere fanciful feller as is goin’ to lend you five quid!’
“‘Sha’n’t!’ says Joe Kelly.
“They glared furious at one another an’ shut their fists, an’ then Dido says, ‘I don’t never allow pleasure to interfere with business, but when this job’s over an’ the swag divided fair, I’ll punch you in the eye, Joe Kelly!’
“‘I take my pleasure whenever it’s convenient,’ says Joe; ‘an’ after we’ve busted that ’ouse, if there is one, an’ shared the stuff, I’ll knock your ugly face out at the back o’ your fat ’ead, Dido Fox!’
“So they glared a bit more, an’ then Dido Fox says, ‘All right, we won’t forget that engagement, after the job’s done. An’ as there is a ’ouse to be busted an’ stuff to be shared, we’ll do that first, an’ each attend to his own department. I won’t interfere with your chap and you won’t interfere with mine. You shin out an’ get that security somehow, ’cos I’ve got to ’and over that money, final, solid, an’ without fail, at eleven in the mornin’.’
“So Joe Kelly went ’ome an’ slept on it. When he awoke in the morning it was all clear as day. He hadn’t got no security, but he could get it quick enough, just the same way as he got his livin’. He went out very early into the crowd comin’ out o’ Liverpool Street Station an’ snatched a watch. He had a most awful run for it, with a crowd o’ City clerks arter ’im, an’ was so near caught that he could ’ardly speak when he got to old Billy Blenkin’s. Old Billy was in bed, and grumpy at bein’ disturbed. ‘That ain’t much of a security,’ he said, when he see the watch, an’ Joe could see, now that he looked at it that it wasn’t worth five pound, nor anything like it. ‘Never mind,’ says old Billy, ‘you can leave it with me an’ come to the Carpenters’ Arms at eleven for the money.’
“Joe was ready enough to leave the watch, you may guess, in case he might be spotted in the street and searched, an’ so at eleven o’clock there was old Billy Blenkin with the tools waitin’ in the Carpenters’ Arms for ’is customers, an’ the ’ole situation was elegant an’ delightful. Old Billy, with no more idea than Adam that ’is two customers ’ad anythink to do with each other, was quite sure he’d best get ’em both there together—in different compartments p’r’aps—an’ save any more mistakes. An’ there was Joe Kelly comin’ along gay an’ ’appy for the five pound quite certain ’e was gettin’ it at last, an’ there was Dido Fox, what had been lookin’ for Joe Kelly all the mornin’ an’ gettin’ angrier every minute, comin’ along too, so as to catch old Billy to time an’ ask him to wait a bit longer for the five pound; an’ there was no bloomin’ five pound anywhere among ’em! What ho!
“Dido Fox turns into the street leadin’ to the Carpenters’ Arms, an’ there he see Joe Kelly, goin’ the same way, just in front of him. At that a orful suspicion came over him. ’Ere was Joe Kelly playin’ the bloomin’ traitor arter givin’ ’im the slip all the mornin’, an’ goin’ direck to old Billy Blenkin with the money to get the tools on ’is own! He rushed arter Joe an’ grabbed ’im with both ’ands.
“‘’Ere, where’s that money?’ says Dido, very fierce.
“‘Ain’t got it,’ says Joe, tryin’ to shake him off. ‘You leave go o’ me, go on. Where are you goin’ to about ’ere, eh?’
“With that he stood still an’ stared, for the same orful suspicion came over him what had come over Dido. ’Ere was Dido doin’ the treacherous an’ goin’ direct to old Billy Blenkin to get the money on ’is own! ’Ullo!’ he says, ‘I see your game, Dido Fox! You just step down to the other end o’ the street while I go into the Carpenters’ Arms!’
“Dido was mad enough a’ready, an’ this made him wuss. ‘Oh, yes,’ says he. ‘I’m on to your trick, Joe Kelly. Walk off while you go an’ do it on your own? Not much! I’m going in there fust. Take that!’
“Joe Kelly had got his punch in the eye in advance, an’ in a moment there was a bunch o’ Joe Kelly an’ Dido Fox flyin’ all over the pavement. Old Billy Blenkin heard the row, an’ he looks out o’ the Carpenters’ Arms surprised to see ’is two customers fightin’ most unbusinesslike. So he rushed out to part ’em. Dido was on top for the moment, an’ when, he see this ’ere other traitor grabbin’ at him, o’ course he thought Billy had come to ’elp his pal, so he gave him
one hard, an’ over went old Billy. An’ then when Joe an’ old Billy both got up together, Joe, seein’ old Billy there, as had treated him so tricky, he gave him one, an’ over went poor old Billy again, wonderin’ whatever he’d done to deserve it all. An’ then the p’lice turned up an’ ran ’em in, all three.
“Dido Fox and Joe Kelly, they got off easy enough for fightin’; but poor old Billy, his luck was clean out. He was found in possession of ’ousebreakin’ implements an’ a watch what had been stole that very mornin’ at Liverpool Street.
“So the Old Bailey got old Billy again, an’ the mission-’all committee they passed a lot of extry serious resolutions to put things straight, an’ they made their lectures extry dull in future. An’ one o’ the most promisin’ burglaries never came off, ’cos o’ the difficulty o’ raisin’ credit in Shoreditch.”
BILLY BLENKIN’S RADIUM
First published in The Strand Magazine, December 1909
The tale of old Billy Blenkin and his attempt to finance a burglary was told, and Snorkey Timms refreshed his throat and filled his pipe once more from my pouch.
“Yes,” he said, “it was rough on poor old Billy, and all his beautiful respectableness went pop. Anybody else would ha’ starved after he came out from his six months; but Billy was all ready. He played one stroke and went—he ain’t been seen in these parts ever since. Emigrated, I expect. Nobody’d want to stop after sich a stroke as that, unless he wanted to fight ’arf ’Oxton and Kingsland Road all at once, and old Billy was no sich mug.”
“What sort of stroke was this, then?” I asked.
Snorkey Timms sucked at his pipe and grinned softly and long. “What ’ud you think o’ liftin’ about a million quids’ worth o’ radium off a doctor in a bus?” he said.
“A million?” I queried.
“Well, I won’t swear to the ’zact figures,” replied Snorkey, “but it was one o’ them precious large lots o’ money what little bits o’ radium’s worth when you read about ’em in the papers. P’r’aps it was a thousand. I ’eard about it through Jimmy Spicer—a little chap as kep’ a little wardrobe shop up Bacchus Walk. Jimmy hadn’t always got the same shop; sometimes it was another one, and sometimes it was a stall; and once or twice Jimmy’s only shop was Coldbath Fields, consekence o’ bein’ a bit careless what he bought. But Jimmy wasn’t easy discouraged, and was always expectin’ his next venture to turn out a fortune for him and his missis, what was about three times his size and twice as determined, though not more’n half as hopeful.
The Arthur Morrison Mystery Page 182