The Potato Factory

by Bryce Courtenay

  Sir Jasper looked up at Hannah and gave her a small smile, his tiny obsidian eyes expressing a much becalmed disposition.

  'If we are to be friends, m'dear,' he panted, 'it is best that I state the terms right off.' He sat up, clutching his trousers to his crotch, attempting to sound businesslike in his manner. 'I can do nothing for your husband other than attempt to forestall his march to the gallows. We can enter a plea that no long-tailed notes were found in his possession, only those of five pound value, though these are of exceptional quality and most numerous. The judge may, with a little persuasion, come eventually to see that transportation rather than hanging is in order.'

  Sir Jasper grunted, and bent down to remove his boots. Arising, he proceeded without shame to reap-point his trousers to his skinny frame, and then, seated once more, returned his boots to his small stockinged feet.

  'We shall, of course, need your co-operation in the matter of the counterfeit fivers,' he said, looking up at Hannah for her confirmation.

  'An' me?' Hannah asked. 'What's to 'appen to me?'

  Sir Jasper rose from the chair and stood once more trousered and confident. His recent intimacy and claims of friendship seemingly quite forgotten, and with his thumbs hooked into the lapels of his cutaway coat, he declared, 'Ah, yes, the sewing woman! We must reward the sewing woman.'

  He glanced down at his front, admiring the tiny, almost invisible finger pluck seam where the cigar hole had previously been.

  'A capital job, m'dear, and most skilfully completed!'

  He glanced slyly at Hannah, so that his double meaning would not be lost to her.

  'Yer most welcome, I'm sure, sir,' Hannah said, returning his knowing look. 'Yer always welcome to me 'umble mouth!'

  Sir Jasper pulled himself up to his full height, which was by no means impressive. 'Mrs Solomons, I must remind you, each of us has our place and you would do well to remember yours! Let me be quite clear, we shall have no blackmail here, do you hear?'

  Hannah had half expected his return to pomposity, for she was well aware that the masculine mind is directed largely from below the waist, and that there is nothing so restoring to the male ego as the return of his trousers. Even so, she was not of a mind to apologise. She knew enough of these matters to be certain that the priggish policeman would be back for more in due course. The next time she would tempt him further with a good spanking. The back of the hairbrush on his noble little botty. Hannah felt confident that her relationship with the Upper Marshal was far from over.

  Hannah answered sweetly, 'Blackmail, sir? I can't rightly say that I knows what ya is talkin' about.' Then abruptly changing the subject Hannah looked ingenuously at Sir Jasper. 'Ya ain't answered me question sir. What shall become of our 'umble family? If me 'usband should be transported, 'ow shall we live?' She lowered her voice and its tearful character returned. 'With 'im gorn yer condemning us to the work'ouse!'

  'Why, Mrs Solomons, you are by all accounts a resourceful woman. I feel sure your, er… dockside establishments bring you a handsome return?'

  Hannah feigned surprise. 'I'm sure I don't knows what ya mean, sir. If what ya said was goin' on, but what I said wasn't, but could be, that is, if a person was forced into supportin'

  'er four starving kids without an 'usband, if such establishments were to 'appen to be about to… open?'

  'Yes, well, I dare say if you are prepared to co-operate fully, the bank isn't too interested in your, er… other businesses.'

  Hannah sniffed, reaching into her handbag for a dainty handkerchief and touching it to each eye in what she supposed was a genteel gesture, she looked imploringly up at Sir Jasper. 'Am I so bold as to believe, sir, that ya would turn the self-same blind eye to the establishment what is at me poor 'usband's 'ouse in Bell Alley?'

  'The printing shop or the brothel?'

  'No, sir, not the printin', definitely not the printin'. Me, what can't read nor write 'as no use for a printin' shop.'

  'Ah! You are sprung, madam!' Sir Jasper laughed. 'So you do know Egyptian Mary? You wish to continue your husband's partnership? Two sows in the same trough, eh?' Sir Jasper chuckled at his own joke. 'Well, well, well, well! I would be surprised if Egyptian Mary would countenance such an arrangement, she is a woman of some pepper. Still, I guess you would know, eh?'

  'No, sir, I does not!' Hannah snorted. 'Ya quite mistake me meanin'. I want me 'usband's so called partner arrested! It were 'er what turned 'im to queer screenin' and printin' unlawful paper, if such a thing 'as been done by 'im! It ain't fair if she goes free! That's a blatant miscarriage o' justice, that is!'

  'But there is no evidence to implicate her in his forgery,' Sir Jasper said frowning. 'We can't let you continue to run six bawdy houses and arrest her for running but one! Why, madam, we'd be the laughing stock of the City!'

  'It ain't the same!' Hannah countered. 'I takes me earnin's from the criminal classes, the filth! Them what don't know, and never can know any better! What I does is as natural to them as stealin', they's born to it, it's a social 'abit, normal as breathin', I cater for them what doesn't 'ave no 'ope of risin' up from a life o' crime and grog!'

  'I can't possibly entertain such a preposterous idea, Mrs Solomons!' In point of fact, though, Sir Jasper, who shared the contemporary social views that the criminal poor were born and not created by environment or circumstances, was not unimpressed with Hannah's argument. 'I must remind you, justice is blind. Running a bawdy house of whatever kind is an equal crime against the law. If we are to overlook the one kind, your kind, we must do the same for her kind, what?' Sir Jasper lifted his chin and looked down at Hannah across his florid nose. 'British justice must prevail, there's an end to it now, the matter bears no further discussion!'

  Hannah was not prepared to concede. 'Yer actual law, yes! That I'll grant ya is the same! But what about yer lot, the upper classes? What about yer morals? What about yer standards o' society? Me 'umble customers can't get no better. They ain't got no morals and they ain't got no standards what can be upheld. But what o' yer lot? What this Egyptian whore is runnin' is causin' the destruction of the moral standards o' the better classes! Them what's born to morals and standards and must set an example for the 'onest poor!'

  'Clever argument, as a matter of fact, dashed clever!' Sir Jasper seemed genuinely impressed. 'Madam, I commend you for your reasoning, but…'

  Hannah's interruption was of perfect timing. 'I really don't think I could give me complete co-operation, me absolute best o' information and 'elp in the matter o' me 'usband and the printin' press, if ya was to turn a blind eye to this den of iniquity and sinfulness what 'as caught me darlin' Ikey in a web spun by this 'orrible, 'eathen, Egyptian whore!'

  Sir Jasper, taken aback by this sudden change of attack from Hannah, seemed momentarily lost for words. He paced the few steps left to him in the tiny room. 'Hmm! Very awkward.' He glanced at Hannah. 'I don't suppose it would make any great difference if I told you Egyptian Mary is English? Her name is Mary Abacus. Not her real name, carries an abacus see, damned clever at calculations, London as the bells of St Clements, not a drop of wog in her, born in Rosemary Lane, tough as a brigade boot, lots of ginger, hands deformed, some sort of bizarre accident down at the docks on Jacob's Island.'

  Hannah was now breathing heavily. The Mary she knew, who carried the Chinee contraption wherever she went, was a drunken whore who had also taken to the opium pipe, usually the end of the road for her kind. Hannah was an expert in such women. Their last stop was a brothel such as hers, thereafter they would be soon dragged from the river with a boatman's hook, or found with their ears and nose and fingertips eaten by rats, their body submerged in some putrid cesspool or rotting in a dark, evil smelling alley. It was almost beyond believing that this Egyptian whore might be the same Mary. That bastard Marley knew all the time -the miserable sod owed her two sov! Ikey had chosen this nemmo scumbag above his own wife to partner him in the high-class brothel of her dreams. The humiliation was too impossible to bear! />
  Now Hannah, visibly shaking, glared at Sir Jasper. 'If that filthy whore don't get the boat then ya can stick yer threats up yer arse! I'll take me chances with the law. This very night all six o' me places shall become netherkens where the desperate poor can stay for tuppence a night, you'll 'ave to prove otherwise and all I can say is you'll 'ave a bleedin'

  'ard time doin' it!'

  Sir Jasper, much taken aback by Hannah's fury, brought his hands up to his chest as though to protect himself from the battery of words she hurled at him.

  'Hush, hush, m'dear, you'll do yourself a harm,' he cried in alarm. 'I shall see what we can do!'

  'Not good enough, sir!'

  'Hell hath no fury, eh?'

  Sir Jasper was sufficiently sensitive to realise with some delight that Hannah's venom was largely directed towards her husband. Now she confirmed this, her scorn evident as she spoke. 'Ya can 'ave 'im, 'e ain't no good to me no more, I 'ope the bastard rots in 'ell!'

  Sir Jasper smiled. 'Mary Abacus will be arrested, I promise.'

  'And transported?'

  'I can't influence the judge, m'dear.'

  'Ya can 'ave a word in the ear o' the judge, like you said ya could in the matter of Ikey's 'anging!' Hannah said tartly.

  The little man sighed heavily. 'That being a civil crime, this, madam, would be a social one!' As though to explain he shrugged and added, 'A crime against the people.'

  'Swear it!' Hannah demanded.

  'You strike a hard bargain, Mrs Solomons.' Sir Jasper paused. 'Very well, I swear I shall arrest Mary Abacus and cause her to be transported, though it will not be a popular idea in the City.'

  Hannah, vastly relieved, sighed heavily. She had been angry, but now she found herself excited at the prospect of the demise of the whore with the beads and, even more thrilling, her nicely contrived revenge on Ikey. She loved the feeling of power it gave her. It was more than simply revenge on two people who'd dared to cross her, it was a portion of repayment for the bitter disappointment of her life.

  But then, like a thunderbolt, it struck her that she had once again been denied. Hannah realised that she must forgo the sweetest part of her vengeance. She could not let Ikey know it had been she who had brought about his downfall. If Ikey knew she had betrayed him he would never agree to give her his half of the combination to the safe. He would rather rot in hell than see her benefit a single penny from his plight.

  Hannah looked up knowingly and smiled indulgently at Sir Jasper. 'Men got weaknesses what they can't rightly be blamed for. I implore ya, sir! For the sake o' me young 'uns, I don't want me 'usband to know it was me who shopped 'im!'

  Sir Jasper took a gold hunter from his waistcoat and clicked it open. He was anxious to conclude the business at hand. 'No, of course, Mrs Solomons, there is absolutely no need for your husband to know of your co-operation with the authorities.' He returned his watch to his waistcoat. 'Under the circumstances it is most honourable of you to spare his feelings.'

  'Kindness 'as always been me great downfall,' Hannah, her eyes cast downwards, said modestly.

  Sir Jasper cleared his throat. 'Now, this is what we want and, I must warn you, I shall brook no altercation on the matter. We shall raid your premises in White-chapel and we shall expect to find a number of counterfeit five pound notes well concealed. The money we find will be some portion of the counterfeit notes we discovered in the basement premises at Bell Alley.'

  'The money? In me 'ouse? You must be completely barmy, that makes me guilty too, don't it?' Hannah cried. 'Complicity in 'elping to conceal stolen goods? I ain't as meshuggah as I may look, ya know!'

  'I have already given you our assurance as an officer of the law and a gentleman on that matter, madam.'

  Hannah laughed. 'With the greatest respect, sir, what 'appens if ya drop dead? When I'm standin' in the dock in the Old Bailey and the judge passes sentence on me, what am I goin' to say? Oi! That's not fair, yer worship! Him, what's the Upper Whatsit, told me I 'ad 'is personal guarantee as a gentleman and officer o' the law that I can't be nicked!' Hannah rose indignantly from her chair and placed her hands on her hips. 'Ha! The bleedin' judge will think I've gorn soft in the bloomin'

  'ead, and 'e'd be right too, allowin' counterfeit money to be found in me own 'ouse.'

  Hannah sat down again, huffing and snorting. She needed a moment to think, for she had a secondary reason for not wanting the police to raid her White-chapel home. Though well concealed in the false ceiling under the floor of her bedroom, the house contained goods of great value. There was also the matter of the safe. The City police were an entirely different kettle of fish to the usual, dim-witted magistrates' runners. Hannah didn't want to take the chance that in the bogus search for the counterfeit banknotes, this too might be discovered.

  Sir Jasper was visibly growing impatient. 'You will have to trust me, madam!' he said sharply.

  'It ain't a matter o' trust, sir. It's a matter o' natural caution, a matter of survival. I wouldn't trust me own rabbi from shoppin' me if 'e was to find counterfeit money in me 'ouse! Stands to reason, don't it? In the eyes o' the law, Ikey and me, we'd both be guilty!' She paused and smiled at the police officer. 'May I suggest summink more appropriate?'

  The Upper Marshal banged his fist down hard upon the table. 'No, madam, you may not! I hardly think a woman of your background could improve on our methodicals! This plan is the work of experienced officers, it requires no alteration, being quite perfect as it is!' He folded his arms across his chest and glowered at Hannah in a most imperious manner.

  Hannah remained silent until she gauged that Sir Jasper's exasperation had somewhat calmed, then she persisted. '

  'Is coat. Sew the money in the linin' o' his coat, then nick 'im on the street, away from 'ome, away from me and the young 'uns!'

  The police officer, despite his irritability, looked up at her in surprise. 'I say, do you think you could do that?' Then he rested his chin on his chest and mused, as though to himself, 'Lining of his coat? Caught red-handed with the money on his person, in his possession?' He looked up and smiled at Hannah. 'By, Jove, that's perfectly splendid! No way of wriggling out of that, eh?' Sir Jasper rubbed his hands gleefully together, completely mollified. 'Perfect! Why, it's quite, quite perfect, m'dear!'

  'Not so perfect, already!' Hannah scowled. '

  'E don't ever take 'is coat orf, not never and not particular never at this time, when the weather is inclement and comin' up to Christmas.' She cocked her head and thought for a moment, 'On the other 'and, if 'e don't ever take orf 'is coat… ' she paused, thinking again, 'then the only person what would 'ave put the money there is 'isself, ain't that right, then?'

  Sir Jasper clapped his hands in delight. 'I say, that's damn clever, m'dear! Capital, how very wise of you!'

  Hannah knew the task of apprehending Ikey away from home would be a most difficult one. Ikey's mode of travel through the rookeries was nocturnal and shadowy, never tiring in the task of concealment. No magistrates' runner or Bank of England law officer could ever hope to follow him, or even dare to enter those parts where his crepuscular fellow creatures engaged in business with him.

  Ikey's coat was a very elusive target and the more she thought about it the less confident she was that such a scheme could be made to work. But with the knowledge that all the stolen property concealed in her White-chapel home would come into her possession while she was, so to speak, under the protection of the law, Hannah possessed a powerful additional incentive to succeed.

  'When will ya let me 'ave the false finnies, sir? I needs no more than two.'

  'Finnies? Oh, you mean the five pound notes? You shall have them promptly on the morrow.'

  'In the afternoon, if ya please. I needs me beauty sleep!' Hannah smiled and then, with one eyebrow slightly arched and her head cocked to one side, her expression coquettish, 'Perhaps you would like to bring 'em y'self, sir?'

  Sir Jasper Waterlow's complexion turned a sudden deep purple and his nose began to t
witch alarmingly. Avoiding Hannah's eyes he gathered up his top hat from the table and moved towards the door where he paused, and slid the slender fingers of his left hand into a bright yellow leather glove. He was quite exhausted and in urgent need of a stiff brandy.

  His expression now somewhat composed, he looked directly at Hannah. 'I shall require you to wait five minutes before leaving,' he grunted, then added, 'I should also be very careful not to lose the five pound notes I shall send you. It would be most difficult to convince me that such a calamity was honestly come about.' He pulled the second glove on and glanced briefly at Hannah from under the rim of his top hat. 'Though, of course, in such an event, we do have others.' Then he touched the brim of his hat. 'Good day to you, Mrs Solomons,' Sir Jasper said and, passing through the doorway, closed the door behind him.

  Hannah smiled. She could hear the clatter of his mincing high-heeled steps in the hallway and then the silence as he stopped to retrieve his cloak from the proprietor, then a few more steps as he departed the Blue Wren. 'That's gratitude for ya,' she said to herself. 'But that one will be back soon enough for a good spankin' from 'is adorable nanny, nothin' surer.'

  • • •

  Not long after this meeting, Hannah once again summoned Bob Marley. He was surprised to be contacted by Hannah so soon after it would have been apparent that he had duped her in the matter of the raid on the premises in Bell Alley. Hannah was not known for her forgiving nature. Marley was therefore understandably suspicious at her openly friendly manner. She sat him in the parlour where a bright fire blazed and where she had laid out a single glass and fresh bottle of brandy with a plate of oat cakes.

  Apart from his initial greeting Bob Marley remained silent, pouring himself a large glass of brandy and helping himself to a couple of the cakes.

  'It weren't nice what ya done, Bob Marley,' Hannah began. 'Takin' advantage of a poor woman what was 'elpless.'

  Marley, with a mouth full of cake, stopped chewing and rose from his chair as though to leave. 'No, don't go!' Hannah added hastily, smiling. 'We got things to talk about what could be to yer advantage.'