The Londum Omnibus
Volume Two
Tony Rattigan
Three More Londum Novels in One Book
Copyright © Antony Rattigan 2015
All rights reserved
Contents
SNAKE EYES
Prologue
Something Old
Something New
Something “Borrowed”
Something Blue
Epilogue
THE GREAT GAME
Prologue
Burglary by Appointment
The Ungarian Job
Men of Honour
Cornered
Epilogue
FOOTHOLD
Prologue
War Council
The Return
Buck House
Invitation to the Palace
“Hurry Up and Wait!”
Secrets and Lies
Avalon
Bodies in Motion
Through the Looking Glass
The Once and Future King
Epilogue
Snake Eyes
Book Six of The Londum Series
Copyright © Antony Rattigan 2011
All rights reserved.
In between rescuing a young girl from child slavery and saving a street full of tenants from an unscrupulous landlord, Jim Darby is planning one of the biggest heists of his career, when an old flame re-enters his life.
Racine Deveaux seeks Jim’s help to bring down her travelling companion, Vincent Lassiter. Reluctant at first to help, Jim is finally persuaded to involve Lassiter in a scam to force him into a position where Racine can be revenged upon him. Seems simple, doesn’t it?
However, Jim has to contend with Lassiter’s man, Bolan, an ex-street fighter, who may be more than a match for Jim. Also there’s a new addition to Jim’s list of annoyances, Inspector Herbert Corner of Caledonia Yard, who seems intent on finding out Jim’s secrets.
Oh well, it’s just another day at the office for Jim.
‘If you love someone, set them free.
If they don’t come back … then hunt them down and kill them!’
Anon
‘Hell hath no fury like a woman … well, like a woman actually.
Tony Rattigan
Prologue
There are some … well let’s call them ‘Scientists’ for want of a better word, who believe that for every possible action, there is a split and a new Universe is created which goes off in a different direction. So that every time someone makes a decision, another Universe comes into being. In the old Universe some people go left, in the new one, some go right. It’s like you had a bag of marbles and you dropped them on the floor and they go in all different directions. And the number of Universes increases every time you drop the marbles. (This is known as the Marble Theory. Well, if you can have String Theory why not Marble Theory? Okay, suit yourself.)
But that’s not actually the way that it really is. What it is actually like, is that way back when, just after the Big Bang, there was a split in the order of the newly created Universe. It was caused by a man like you or me - no not you, you’re a woman, move aside please Madam – yes, like you sir. It was a man called Rufus Cobb and you can read all about it in Split Infinity.
So we ended up with all these parallel streams running alongside each other, like lanes on a motorway. These streams were created back at the beginning and they flow forward into the future like a giant, multi-laned motorway. There is a finite number, the number that was created at the beginning of the Universe. It’s not infinite but it is a bloody big number!
What that gives us is multiple Universes, a Multiverse where everything is nearly the same as here, or the farther you move away from the centre, the differences become greater. It all depends on how far you have travelled from your starting point.
There can be strange, exotic worlds where weird things happen like, eating chips and chocolate makes you fat, or drinking too much alcohol gives you a bad head next morning. You may laugh and say, ‘But this cannot be so, you jest surely?’ but my children, these strange places do exist. But fear not, they don’t affect our world where everything is natural and you can eat and drink as much as you want with no consequences.
And in one of those Universes, there is a world called Earth. On this planet is a group of islands known collectively as Grand Briton. These Islands are split into the four countries of Caledonia, Eire, Cymru and the largest and most important, Albion. Our story starts in the capital city of Albion … Londum.
Something Old
Most people saw the Victorian era as a time of enlightenment. Increases in Albion’s power around the world due to technical innovation brought staggering wealth and prosperity to the country. But this wealth was centred mainly on only certain layers of society. The world of high teas, cucumber sandwiches and banquets was restricted to a very narrow strata of the population. The average Albion lived a life of hard work with little chance of ever making it into the big time, financially.
And then beneath them, there was the rock bottom of the social scale. The dregs of society, to whom life was just one long, unending struggle to survive. This was a world where anything went, people would do anything, lie, cheat and steal from anybody, to get by. And then there were those who attempted to do more than survive, those that attempted to profit from other’s misery.
Ah, the East End of Londum in the ‘Good Old Days’, where you could have a night on the town, buy yourself a woman, eat a fish supper, have somebody murdered … and still have change from a tenner.
The East End of Londum was a place where anything could be got for a price. Every conceivable vice was catered for as long as you could meet the asking price. Drugs, prostitutes of any age or sex or colour (smoking indoors) mud-wrestling, full-fat cream cakes, you name it, whatever your particular interest there was someone who could supply it if the price was right.
These low-lifes populated the East End like a shoal of fish feeding off plankton, which were the ordinary people of the area.
And amongst them swam … the sharks!
Jim Darby’s cab pulled to a halt outside a rundown tenement near Whitechapel, in that same East End. Jim opened the door and climbed down onto the pavement.
‘Wait here Bob, I won’t be long,’ he instructed the coach driver.
‘Righto Mr. Darby,’ he replied, touching his cap.
Jim entered the building, carefully stepping over the piles of garbage and avoiding putting his expensive shoes on the more dubious looking dark patches on the floor, and went up the rickety stairs until he reached the third floor. He walked along the landing until he found number 9. He rapped on the door with his cane and shortly the door was opened by a haggard, old woman. He flashed a bank note at her and she opened the door wide and beckoned him in.
‘I understand you have a young girl for sale,’ he asked her.
‘Yes, if you have the money. Come this way.’ She led the way into the parlour. It was filthy so when she offered him a seat, he declined.
He wasn’t there to mess about so he went straight to the point, ‘The girl,’ he asked, ‘how old is she?’
‘She was nine last birthday, Your Honour.’
‘Whose child is she? Won’t she be missed?’
‘She’s my daughter’s. Foolish girl went and died in the last Cholera outbreak. Left me with the child to look after. Me! At my age!’
‘So, she’s your Grand-daughter.’ It wasn’t a question.
She never saw him move. Once second he was just standing there relaxed, in the middle of the room, the next he had her fla
t against the wall with a knife across her throat.
‘And she’s not been touched? Your life on it?’
‘I swear, Your Honour! She’s as virgin as the day she was born. I knew I could get a better price if she was fresh.’ She smiled ingratiatingly.
Jim stepped back from her and suddenly he was no longer holding the knife. She hadn’t seen him put it away but it was no longer in his hand.
‘Fetch the girl,’ he commanded.
The old woman rushed to comply. She had seen his eyes up close when he had held her against the wall and she didn’t want to make him angry. Curiously, up close you could see little specks of silver colouring in those eyes.
She came back shortly with a young, blonde child in tow. The little girl had obviously just been woken up and stood there rubbing her eyes with both hands. She was wearing a dress so she obviously slept in her clothes. Very few people in this neighbourhood could afford the luxury of night clothes.
‘Her name is Sarah Bowen,’ said the old woman, ‘she’s a good, obedient girl. Pretty girl, too. She’ll please Your Honour, I’ll be bound.’
‘Fetch me a blanket,’ Jim told the old woman. While she was out the room he looked at the girl, who stared at up at him unafraid, with big, soulful, blue eyes and he felt something in his chest twist.
The old hag brought back a blanket. It was threadbare and dirty but it would have to do for now.
He looked at the child’s bare feet. ‘Does she have any shoes?’
‘Waste money on shoes when I could buy gin with it? Not likely.’ To the girl she said, ‘You’re to go with this nice man, Sarah. He will be taking care of you from now on.’
He gave the old woman ten pounds. She’d wanted fifteen but she saw his eyes as he handed her the notes, so she didn’t dare argue with him.
Jim bent down, wrapped the blanket around the girl then picked her up and took her out of the apartment. He went quickly down the stairs to his coach. As he opened the door of the coach, Sarah asked him, ‘Are you taking me away from Grannie forever?’
‘Yes I am,’ he replied.
‘So she won’t be able to hit me anymore?’
‘That’s right Sarah, no one will ever hit you again.’
The girl just smiled at him. He put her inside the cab.
‘Okay Bob, you know where to go,’ he shouted up to the cabbie.
‘Righto, Mr. Darby.’
Jim climbed into the coach and settled the girl on the seat. He gave her a bag of sweets and a teddy bear that were sitting on the seat. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the toy bear and she pulled it to her and held it tight as if it was in danger of escaping.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I’m taking you to a nice place where you will be well taken care of by nice people. There will be other children to play with too.’
Her eyes opened wide as he told her what she could expect where they were going. Clean sheets! Clean clothes! Food!
It was early evening and they drove for some time, through the foggy streets of Londum. The child sat there happily eating sweets and playing with her new teddy. Eventually the carriage pulled to a halt and the coachman called to him, ‘We’re here, Mr. Darby.’
Jim got out of the coach and helped the girl down. He turned around and stared up the steps to the sign above the front door.
Doctor Barnato’s Home for Orphaned Children
He led the girl up the stairs. At the top he turned to her and said, ‘Now remember what I told you in the coach, if you tell them about Grannie, they’ll send you back to her. Tell them you have no family, they died in the last cholera outbreak, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she replied.
Jim rang the bell. After a while the door was opened by a young, attractive nurse.
‘Good evening, I’ve brought a girl to be looked after,’ he told her. ‘She doesn’t have any family and she has nowhere to go.’
The nurse looked a bit nonplussed at that but opened the door and ushered them inside, anyway.
‘Well I’m sorry but we can’t just take a girl on the doorstep like this. It’s most irregular,’ the nurse protested.
Jim smiled. It was one of his most charming smiles, designed to weaken the fairer sex. ‘Excuse me, Nurse …?’
‘Phipps, Angela Phipps.’
‘Would a hundred pound donation to your funds be enough to make it … a little less irregular, Nurse Phipps?’ he proffered the bank notes in an envelope.
‘Well, no doubt Doctor Barnato will find that more than acceptable. I’m sure he would like to thank you personally.’
‘Oh, that won’t be necessary. Just promise me that you will take care of this little Angel for me, her name is Sarah Bowen.’
‘But of course, we can always fit another poor child in,’ the nurse replied.
He passed her an envelope containing the money and then he slipped another bank note into her uniform pocket. ‘Is there any chance of getting her some food and a bath before you put her to bed?’
‘Oh I’m sure we could manage that,’ the nurse replied.
Jim knelt down so he was level with the girl’s eyes. ‘I have to be going now Sarah. Nurse Phipps will take care of you.’
‘Will I see you again?’ Sarah asked. Nurse Phipps was wondering the same thing as well.
‘I’ll drop by occasionally to see how you are doing. Look after Teddy and be a good girl for me.’ He kissed her on the forehead and stood up.
‘Excuse me sir, what’s your name?’ asked the nurse.
Jim had been planning on leaving without telling anyone his name but the nurse had a nice smile and he looked down and saw Sarah looking up at him curiously with those big eyes. She clearly wanted to know too, so he weakened. ‘It’s Jim, Jim Darby.’
‘Well I’m sure that Dr. Barnato will be grateful Mr. Darby and … don’t worry, we’ll take care of Sarah.’
He nodded to the nurse and let himself out.
As he climbed into the cab he told the cabbie to take him to Annie’s place. As they rode through the murky streets Jim reflected on what a lucky escape Sarah Bowen had, had. Luckily Annie, a Madam of his acquaintance, had heard about the young girl being offered for sale and had tipped him off. It frightened him to think what might have happened to her if he hadn’t got there first, there were some sickoes out there.
Ah well, at least this time he was able to save someone.
As the cab rattled over the cobble-stoned streets of Londum, Jim thought to himself how much he loved this town and its people, in particular the East Enders. It was a fact known only to a few people that despite his expensive clothes and fine manners, he had actually been born in the East End, he was one of them. And when necessary, like tonight, he did whatever he could to protect them.
It was certainly a great time to be living in Londum, the capital city of Albion, the centre of a vast Empire that spanned a quarter of the globe, ruled by its much-loved Emperor and King of Albion, Victor. Albion’s influence had spread throughout the world by either trade or war, backed up by the incredible technological advances such as the steam engine, the telegraph and last but not least, the Maxim machine gun.
To be part of the Empire in this modern, Victorian era was the chance for any man, whether from a rich or a poor background, that had guts and ambition, to make a fortune for himself. “Gentleman Jim” Darby had both, in spades. Now in his mid thirties, he had amassed a modest fortune in the gold and diamond mines of the Dark Continent of Afreeka. But he never forgot his humble beginnings.
Jim spent a lot of his time in the East End and was well known to all the locals, on both sides of the law. He knew the thieves; the pickpockets, the “Bangtails” and other “Unfortunates” as the ladies of the night were known. They knew him by the name of “Gentleman Jim” due to the way he dressed and spoke like a “toff” and yet unknown to them, he was from the same streets as they were.
Jim was lost in his remembrances as the cab pulled to a halt out
side Annie Parker’s establishment. He looked at the discreet, front door of an unassuming, ordinary looking house, amused by what lay behind that door.
It was set in a quiet little mews at the edge of the East End, where the neighbourhood was beginning to border on respectable. He climbed out of the coach and threw a few gold coins up to the driver. ‘Thanks for your help tonight Bob, see you around. Take care.’
Bob Carpenter tipped his hat and replied, ‘Anytime Mr. Darby.’ He urged the horses ahead and they trotted off down the road.
Jim watched him go. Good man that, he thought to himself. He always called on Bob when he needed reliable, discreet, transport anywhere.
He walked up the stairs and knocked on the front door of Annie’s. A man in a butler’s outfit opened the door and ushered him in. Despite what he was wearing there was no mistaking the build and attitude of the door security man. Jim nodded to him and the man took Jim’s hat, coat and cane.
It always amused Jim that the house looked so boring and middle-class respectable on the outside, but was plush and decadently furnished on the inside. Expensive furniture, flock wallpaper, luxurious carpets and glass chandeliers.
Jim looked around the foyer, casual velvet-lined sofas around the edge with a fountain in the centre of the room. The sofas were taken up by lovely young women chatting to predominantly middle-aged men. A staircase led off to the left and on the right was a double doorway that led through to the bar and dining area. Annie was standing in the entrance to the bar, smiling at him.
He went across to her and she kissed him on the cheek and slipping her arm through his, led him into the bar. ‘Ow’d it go then?’ she asked.
‘Mission accomplished. Thanks for the tip; I got there in time it seems. Took the young lassie to Doctor Barnato’s, as you suggested. I think she’ll be fine. She was glad to get away from her awful Grannie and she’s smart enough not to say anything that might lead them to return her to there.’
The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12) Page 1