As she spoke the boy who'd earlier been sent to waken Marybelle came to the door followed by the coachman. The lad carried a cask of brandy and waited as Ikey and company moved further into the small room before he pushed past them and seated the small barrel of brandy carefully in a cradle placed on a carved oak dresser. On the shelf above the barrel were several rows of pewter mugs.
'Well?' Marybelle asked. 'What's it to be?' She moved over to the cask and taking a pewter tankard from the shelf above it placed it under the spout and allowed just a splash of the golden brown liquid into the tankard. Then she walked over to the fire and removed the mulling iron which she plunged into the interior of the tankard. Immediately a ribbon of flame leapt from the tankard almost to the height of the heavy oaken mantelpiece and the room was filled with the inviting fumes of good French cognac.
The effect on Titty Smart's nose was too much to bear and he reached into his pocket and quickly unlocked the manacle attached to Ikey's wrist and thereafter his own. His partner, perhaps not quite as taken with the need of strong drink and pyrotechnics, hesitated a little longer.
'Just the one, lad!' Smart grunted. 'Just the one for keeping us alert an' all.'
'It ain't regular,' Popjoy muttered, though in an undertone. 'There's regulations.'
Titty Smart glared at his partner. 'We ain't be paid for this escort, this ain't our shift, we be nights, not day, this be our own time what the bastards 'ave robbed from us, you can stuff yer regulations up yer arse, lad!'
Before his young partner could protest further Ikey interjected, clucking the two men to silence. 'What the 'ead keeper don't see 'e don't 'ave to grieve about, now does 'e?' He rubbed his left wrist with his right hand, deliberately pulling Popjoy's arm across with him in order to do so. Then he pointed to the parlour door which still stood ajar and grinned. 'Better lock the door 'case I takes a runner!'
Albert Popjoy, shaking his head in silent disapproval, unlocked the manacle on Ikey's wrist while leaving the one on his wrist. Titty Smart walked over to the parlour door, locked it, and placed the key in his pocket.
Marybelle pointed to the manacles dangling from the wrist of Albert Popjoy and laughed. 'Don't look cosy, knows what I mean? Official. We don't go much on duty 'ere.' She cocked her head to one side and grinned at the younger turnkey. Albert Popjoy, embarrassed at the attention, took the key from his pocket and unlocked the manacle around his wrist, placing the set within his coat pocket. 'That's it, lads, nice 'n cosy, take a pew, make y'selfs at 'ome.' She looked at the coachman. 'You too,' then she took up four pewter tankards and turned again to the now seated men, arched her eyebrows and nodded her head in the direction of the cask. 'A drop o' me very best brandy for all, is it then, gentlemen?'
It came as some surprise when no more than twenty minutes later, the mulled brandy having warmed, refreshed and lighted that small, bright flame that sputters in the stomach until temporarily doused with a second drink, Ikey suggested that they must depart and offered his wrists to the two turnkeys so that they might manacle them once more.
Titty Smart nodded to his partner. 'I told you, just the one and that will do for the manacle too.' The younger man fished into his pocket and produced his set of manacles and attached them once more to Ikey's and then his own wrist.
Ikey felt momentarily triumphant. 'One down, one to go!' he thought. He felt almost free with only one wrist attached to Albert Popjoy.
Marybelle Firkin saw them to the back door and placed her hands on Ikey's shoulders. 'Cheerio, lovey,' she said and Ikey was surprised to see the brightness of moisture in her large blue eyes. She paused and grinned, though when she spoke her voice was serious. 'Yer wife told me everyfink, good luck, Ikey.' Then she turned to Smart and Popjoy, ignoring the coachman who had taken his brandy but had said no single word except to nod his thanks while he had been in the parlour. 'Always welcome, I'm sure,' she said to the two turnkeys.
She stood at the door, her red dressing gown once again filling its entire space, her pretty head almost touching the lintel. 'Come back soon, gents!' she called at the departing hackney.
To Ikey's surprise, Titty Smart licked his lips and rolled his eyes. 'Ooh, ah! I'd like to be up to a bit o' fancy 'anky panky with the likes of 'er, I would an' all!' He turned to Ikey and added, 'That be damned good Frenchy brandy, just like what you said.'
Albert Popjoy looked out of the window of the carriage and smiled in a supercilious manner, which Smart must have observed, for he turned to his partner and barked, 'Wipe that smile orf yer gob, lad. Lady like that be much too good for the likes o' yer poxy little prick!'
They arrived at the courts in Westminster with a good twenty minutes to spare. 'Would you wish me to wait, guv?' the coachman asked. 'It ain't much point in this weather toutin' for a fare. I could drive you back afterwards, no trouble and no extra fare charged, 'cept o' course for the run back and a sixpenny bag of oats for me 'orse while we's waiting.'
Ikey nodded his agreement and the three men entered the precincts of the court to be met at the steps leading into the Westminster courts by Hannah and several of Ikey's associates, most of whom were Jews from the Whitechapel markets, Petticoat and Rosemary Lanes. Their attendance was less a show of loyalty than a favour returned for a similar attendance by Ikey and Hannah at some past occasion when each of those present had faced an indictment. This was because of the wellestablished fact that, should a Jew be in the dock, the likelihood of a conviction was near five times that of any other Londoner. It became therefore the custom to try to fill the court with 'sympathetic voices' so that the mood of the rabble in the gallery would not influence the judgment.
In Ikey's present predicament this was of overwhelming importance, the fear being, that if news of his application for bail should spread, the court would soon be filled with the rabble from the streets howling for his blood and the judge, sensitive to the animosity of the public at large, might think it safer for all concerned for Ikey to remain behind bars until his trial came up.
But when the time came for Ikey's hearing to be called the clerk of the court informed Titty Smart that the judge was in his chambers. He said there would be a delay of at least an hour, taking the hearing almost to the noon hour. The man, his lips pursed, had consulted his watch, whereupon he had shaken his head. 'No time, gentlemen, at noon his worship takes luncheon at the Athenaeum Club, he'll not return until two o'clock at best!' This meant that Ikey's writ of habeas corpus would therefore not be served until the early part of that afternoon.
Ikey suggested that he stand his two keepers a good tightener at a local chop house and requested that his friends be allowed to accompany them.
'I could go a good tightener and a jug o' best ale,' Titty Smart agreed, patting his large stomach without his mandatory show of reluctance. His attitude to Ikey had considerably softened following the time spent at the Pig 'n Spit and now he turned to Albert Popjoy. 'Drop o' fodder can't 'urt, now can it, lad?'
Popjoy nodded. He too was hungry and the idea of a plate of meat – mutton chops surrounded by a generous collar of yellow fat -was a most enticing prospect. It was difficult for him to maintain his official demeanour and not show his pleasure at the anticipation of such an unexpected treat.
'That be fine,' he said in a brusque voice, though he was salivating at the thought of the tightener to come at Ikey's expense.
'My pleasure, entirely, gents,' Ikey said with great alacrity.
Hannah, who stood close to her husband, shook her head. '
'Ang on a mo'! We go into a chop 'ouse round these parts, in fact, any parts, there's plenty what will want to do Ikey an 'arm!'
A look of mutual disappointment crossed the faces of the two turnkeys, although Ikey could scarcely believe his luck. 'Gentlemen, what's to worry? Mistress Marybelle will welcome us back to the Pig! There be a dozen chop 'ouses in Rosemary Lane what can send in a banquet to suit the fancy o' the most particular appetite.' He spread his arms wide. 'What it is my great pleasure to satisfy
.'
The matter was quickly settled and fifteen minutes later the three men arrived back at the Pig 'n Spit followed shortly afterwards by two hackney coaches containing the six others eager to avail themselves of Ikey's generosity. Hannah, though, protested to Ikey that she would follow a little later as young Mark had a bad cough and she must fetch some physic for him before joining them.
The fog had lifted somewhat, but the ever present miasma at rooftop level and the winter smog kept the day sombre and the visibility low. Therefore none but Ikey noted the outline of a gentleman's coach with four horses which had followed them and now passed them as they turned into the rear of the Pig 'n Spit. Nor would they have seen that it too came to a halt only a few yards further along the road.
Marybelle, now dressed, welcomed them with the same equanimity as on the earlier occasion. Upon entering the parlour Titty Smart, observing Marybelle's previous demand, had unmanacled Ikey and Popjoy had done likewise. Waiting for the other guests to enter the room, the older of the turnkeys once again locked the door and dropped the key into his coat pocket.
The parlour, if they should stand in a rather close-packed manner, was only just large enough to accommodate them all. In fact, the near proximity of Ikey's guests to each other, the warmth of the excellent fire in the hearth and the dispensing of generous quantities of Marybelle Firkin's best brandy coupled with her friendly banter added greatly to the jollity of the occasion. Ikey's two keepers were soon as loquacious as any in the room as they continued to imbibe the excellent brandy. But their stomachs were empty of food as Marybelle had delayed, by an hour, its delivery from a nearby chop house.
At last the food arrived and at the same time Hannah appeared. Titty Smart, Ikey noted, had with some difficulty inserted the key into the lock, to allow the trays to be brought into the room. Two large trays of chops, aproned with deliciously crisped fat and at least a dozen plump whole carcases of spatchcock stuffed with chestnuts together with mounds of golden roasted potatoes were hoisted above the heads of the guests and placed upon the dresser. Ikey watched again as the older turnkey made several unsuccessful thrusts at the lock before pausing to carefully place his tankard of brandy on the floor between his legs. Then with the key held in both hands, and squinting fiercely at the key hole, he finally managed to lock the door.
The smell of the roasted meat appeared to have much the same effect on Titty Smart as had been the case earlier with the flaming brandy fumes. Forgetting the half-filled tankard on the floor between his legs he kicked it over as he rudely pushed his way through the throng towards the trays of steaming food. As he passed, Ikey simply dipped his hand into the turnkey's coat pocket, and in a foolishly simple example of the art of tooling retrieved the key to the door.
While a mood of genial drunkenness overtook the room, Ikey retained a completely sober disposition. Marybelle pretended to frequently fill his pewter but, instead, merely splashed a lick of cognac into the bottom of his tankard, which was not sufficient to cause a comfortable night's sleep to a teething infant.
Ikey measured the cacophony of the room. It was, after all, filled with people who were easily inclined towards talking over each other in a manner seldom confidential, and when it seemed all were shouting and none were listening, he prepared to make his move. First he checked the whereabouts of Albert Popjoy and found him pinned to the wall by two shmatter traders from the Lane both battering him with expostulating words too mixed in the general banter to hear. Popjoy's eyelids seemed heavy with fatigue and he appeared to find it difficult to focus on the two men. Ikey moved towards the door and carefully unlocked it, whereupon he slipped quickly through to the other side, closed the door quietly and locked it again, placing the key above the lintel.
He made his way down the passage to the back of the Pig 'n Spit and was about to step into the courtyard when the cellarman's apprentice made an appearance.
'Me shillin'? You promised us a shillin', Mr Ikey.'
Ikey looked behind him in a panic, but he and the boy were alone. He fished into his coat for his dumby and from the purse produced two single shillings. Ikey dropped one of the shillings into the lad's hand and held the other up between forefinger and thumb and whispered urgently, 'There, a deuce hog, one for the promise and t'other for not seein' nothin' what's happenin' in front of your eyes at this very moment. Does you understand, my boy?'
The boy nodded and Ikey dropped the second shilling into his dirty hand and scuttled across the yard to the street entrance. In a matter of moments he was beside the coach where Moses Julian, who had followed them from the courts, had been waiting for him.
'Quick, Moses, be orf!' he said in a loud whisper, clambering into the carriage. 'To the 'ouse o' Reuban Reuban.'
Chapter Fifteen
On Ikey's arrival at the lodgings of the actor and his tailor son there was soon a frenzy of activity as Reuban Reuban clipped and trimmed Ikey's hair until it was short and much to the latest fashion, brushed close and forward to the forehead. Then he trimmed the sideburns in the shorter vogue allowing an inch or more between the side whiskers and the commencement of the beard, which he then clipped short and close to the face. With expert hands he shaved the remaining whiskers from Ikey's face and completely removed his moustache. The result was such a transformation of appearance that Hannah herself would have had great difficulty recognising her husband. Ikey had shed fifteen years in age and his appearance was of a man of handsome demeanour. His looks, occasioned by the wildness of his hair, scraggy beard and length of the nose which rose from his hirsute face like a mountain peak above the forest line, now looked well proportioned and passed well for that of an upper-class English gentleman.
It was Abraham who was next to work upon the transformation of Ikey. He stripped him quickly, though Ikey whimpered at the removal of his beloved coat, until Ikey stood stark naked, his only adornment a chain to which was attached a small medallion of gold which hung about his neck. Commencing with woollen long johns, piece by piece Abraham refurbished him from his under garments to a fine frock coat until his subject stood before him square rigged and every inch the prosperous City gentleman. Ikey, shown his new visage in a mirror, came near to fainting from the shock of witnessing the remarkable re-creation of his personage. Abraham's final act of sartorial brilliance was to produce a top hat and silver-topped malacca cane. Carefully brushing the nap of beaver fur with the elbow of his coat, he placed the hat upon Ikey's head, whereupon he handed him an elegant pair of pigskin gloves and the cane.
'Blimey! You looks a proper toff, Uncle Isaac!' Abraham exclaimed, well pleased with his work. 'You could pass for the Guv'ner o' the Bank o' England, walk right through the door, you could, no questions asked!' He turned and shouted to Reuban Reuban who, shortly after having trimmed and shaved Ikey, had departed to another room. 'Come see, father!'
'Me coat, where's me coat?' Ikey called out in alarm.
'Your coat? Why it be upon your back, Uncle Isaac!' Abraham's expression changed and showed sudden consternation. 'You'll not be wearing that coat?' He pointed to the greasy heap upon the floor. 'That'd be dead give away, that would an' all!'
'Ang it up! 'Ang it up!' Ikey commanded in an agitated voice, dancing from one foot to the other in his shiny black gentleman's boots.
Abraham looked momentarily confused, but then hastily took the coat hanger from which had hung the frock coat Ikey now wore, fitted the collar of Ikey's coat about it and suspended it from a hook behind the door.
'Now leave us, if you please!' Ikey said, his composure regained.
Abraham, in somewhat of a sulk, left the room. He was disappointed at Ikey's complete lack of interest in his clever tailoring and the remarkable change he'd brought about to such an unpropitious subject.
Ikey quickly rummaged through his overcoat, putting the contents of all its secret places into the few available pockets in the frock coat. All the bits and pieces that had a known and accustomed place. Cards, promissory notes, pencils of red and bl
ue, string, wire, keys of innumerable configurations, money in small denominations, purses of various sorts containing various amounts, some filled with sixpences, others with shillings. Money in soft and hard, betting slips and receipts for the care of his two little ratters, the terriers he would so sorely miss, a magnifying glass and an eye piece for the assessment of jewellery, spectacles, pincers, pliers, tongs and probes. Each piece filed in its own place was now removed and flung onto a horrendous junk pile within his frock coat pockets, as though they were to be discarded willy-nilly as fuel to a bonfire of Ikey's past.
Finally Ikey took the long cigar-like cylinder containing the letter of credit from the breast pocket of his coat. He folded the letter neatly, added it to several other documents which Reuban Reuban had obtained and placed them in a leather wallet stamped with his monogram in gold on the outside cover. This was yet another small detail prepared by the actor, who had already put a small silver card container beside the wallet which carried the precise cards Ikey had instructed him to print. This too carried the letters I S inscribed upon it.
Whimpering like a newborn puppy, Ikey took leave of his coat. The loss of his beloved coat seemed almost more than Ikey could bear, for his new outfit felt altogether alien to him. It stiffened his joints and rubbed in strange places, so much so that he thought of himself as being not just transformed but as if somehow he had sloughed his old body, and mysteriously come upon a new one. One moment he was Ikey Solomon and then, with a little trimming, shaving and the application of new linen and half a bolt of suiting, he had been created into some curious unknown personage.
The smell and touch of the new cloth enveloped Ikey's bony body and added to this strange feeling of otherness. He wondered for a moment whether it all might drive him mad, his urgent mission with Coutts amp; Company quite forgotten as his newly tonsured head was utterly confused.
The Potato Factory Page 26