The Cockney Angel

by Dilly Court

  She was beginning to enjoy herself. ‘You might include a skirt length of dove-grey bombazine and several yards of white cotton-lawn, enough for two blouses, and a sufficient quantity of mother-of-pearl buttons.’ She made to leave the room, pausing in the doorway. ‘And you can have the order sent to my dressmaker. She is the same woman who makes your stepmother’s clothes so her address will no doubt be on your books. Goodbye, Ras. I hope we don’t meet again.’ She stepped into the corridor, closing the door with a triumphant smile. The look on Ras’s face had been priceless, and the dull thud of a projectile hitting the door behind her proved that she had scored a victory over the abominable Erasmus Tippet.

  Outside in the street she took a deep breath of the damp air and it was only then that she realised she was shaking uncontrollably.

  ‘Shall I hail a cab for you, ma’am?’ The doorman was at her side, peering anxiously into her face. ‘Where do you wish him to take you?’

  ‘Holborn Hill,’ Irene said firmly.

  * * *

  The office of Lester Fox, Solicitor and Commissioner for Oaths, was situated on the top floor of a five-storey building on the corner of Leather Lane and Holborn Hill. The ground floor housed an outfitters specialising in garments and equipment requisite for foreign travel, and the upper floors were given over to offices. Irene was quite breathless by the time she had negotiated five flights of stairs to the attics where the servants would have been housed in days gone by. The corridor was dimly lit by a single gas light that fluttered feebly in its glass bowl, emitting just enough illumination for her to read the inscriptions on the closed doors.

  ‘Come.’ A voice from within responded to her nervous rap on the solicitor’s door and she entered, blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to the bright light. A waft of cool April air fanned her hot cheeks and papers fluttered about in the draught from an open window. A stronger gust tugged the door from Irene’s hand, causing it to slam. She saw to her surprise that the dormer windows were flung wide open and half a dozen or more pigeons were balancing on the narrow window ledge, pecking at handfuls of corn thrown by a chubby, bald-headed man who sat behind a kitchen table which served as his desk. He turned his head and stared at her over the top of steel-rimmed spectacles and his pale blue eyes twinkled a welcome. ‘Hello, young lady. What can I do for you?’

  Irene glanced at the piece of paper clutched in her hand, checking the address. There was no mistake, and she raised her eyes to meet his questioning gaze. He looked nothing like her idea of a lawyer, crooked or otherwise. His smile was quite cherubic and although he must have been well into middle age his skin was remarkably unlined, giving him the appearance of an elderly baby dressed in a man’s suit of clothes. He tossed another handful of corn to the birds, chuckling at their antics as they attempted to edge each other off the high windowsill in their eagerness to snatch the grain. ‘My little friends are hungry today. Do you like birds, young lady?’

  Irene stifled a shriek of horror as a large black rat emerged from a hole in the skirting board and made off with a crust of bread.

  ‘Don’t worry, my dear. He won’t hurt you. He is like the rest of us in his daily quest to feed his family.’

  ‘There are more of them?’ Irene gasped, eyeing the hole nervously.

  ‘Like me, he has a wife and young ones waiting for him at home.’

  ‘But he’s a rat – vermin.’

  ‘We are all God’s creatures, my dear. Now pull up a chair and tell me how I might help you.’

  Irene glanced round and saw a bentwood chair almost hidden by a pile of books and papers.

  ‘Just tip everything on the floor and sit down. It’s quite exhausting walking up all those stairs.’ He took off his spectacles and polished them on a green paisley handkerchief while he waited for her to make herself comfortable.

  Irene coughed as a cloud of dust flew up from the tomes and documents as they hit the floor. She perched on the edge of the seat. ‘You are the lawyer, Mr Lester Fox?’

  ‘I am indeed. A wily fox rather than a sly one, I think. Now may I ask your name, and what is your business with me?’

  ‘I am Irene Angel and you were recommended to me by my sister’s stepson, Erasmus Tippet.’

  ‘I may have had dealings with that person in the past. Do go on, Miss Angel.’

  Irene cleared her throat and launched into her story. Lester leaned his elbows on the table, listening intently while the pigeons got on with the serious business of feeding until the last kernel of corn had been consumed. With a great flapping of wings they flew off just as Irene came to the end of her narrative. ‘Well, Mr Fox, do you think there is any chance of an appeal being accepted?

  ‘Lester, please, and I shall call you Irene. We will be informal in the office.’

  ‘Yes, but what do you think? Can we clear my father’s name and get him released from prison?’

  He rose from his seat and began to pace the floor with a pronounced limp. ‘I’m afraid the chances are slim while the Sykes brothers are at liberty. Without their conviction and confession it would be almost impossible to convince a judge that your father was a mere pawn in their game.’ He came to a halt in front of her and he bent down to tap his right leg below the knee. ‘Wood,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘When I was a young man I was greedy for money and advancement. I was foolish enough to agree to defend old man Sykes even though I knew he was a black-hearted villain. It was a hopeless case but I was too arrogant to see that and he was sentenced to transportation for life. I was lucky to survive the beating I received from Vic and Wally and my reputation as a lawyer was lost to me as well as my leg. I had to survive as best I could by taking on cases that no other lawyer would touch. I have more reason than most for wishing to see the Sykes brothers safely behind bars.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Irene murmured.

  ‘I have learned to live with my disability,’ Lester said, smiling. ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. However, I may be able to help Him along, so to speak, but you will have to do your bit, Irene.’

  ‘I will do anything you say. I want the Sykes brothers caught and sent to jail for life.’ Irene opened her reticule, and taking out the ten pound note she laid it on the table. ‘There is a retainer.’

  Lester’s hand shot out and he held the crisp note up to the light. ‘Thank you. I cannot afford to work for nothing, although in this case I would be happy to do so had I not a wife and ten children to support.’ He tucked the note into his breast pocket. ‘Now, Irene Angel – what a lovely name, by the way – what I am about to suggest is not entirely legal and there is a considerable degree of danger attached to it.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Irene said firmly. ‘Just tell me what to do.’

  ‘Well, as I see it, we need to lure the Sykes brothers into a trap from which they cannot escape, and we need some bait that they can’t resist.’

  ‘And might that be a rival gaming house run by me and my brother?’

  ‘Precisely so. I want you to let the Sykes brothers know that you are setting up in competition with them. Make certain that they are aware that you pose a real threat to their monopoly and allow the information to leak out gradually. They must not be allowed to suspect your motives.’

  ‘I understand,’ Irene said breathlessly.

  ‘And I think it would be best if you do not tell your brother what you are doing, as I fear he might try to stop you.’

  ‘Thank you, Lester. I am very much obliged to you.’

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t be. You are the one who will be running the risks. Vic and Wally are dangerous men, and if they suspect that you are trying to entrap them they will show no mercy. You must be careful.’

  ‘I know what they do to people who cross them,’ Irene said, rising from her seat. ‘I will take care.’

  Lester’s smile faded. ‘If they become sufficiently worried, they might send their ruffians round to show you that they mean business. Are you prepared for that?’

  ‘Yes,’
Irene said with a determined lift of her chin. ‘It is the only way.’

  ‘I have my spies,’ Lester continued seriously. ‘And if I hear of an intended raid, I will inform the authorities. You must have no direct contact with the police, even though you said that you have a friend in Inspector Kent.’

  ‘Not a friend exactly. I am acquainted with his sister.’

  ‘Yes, you told me that you had befriended his crippled sister, but you must stop your visits forthwith, or you might be placing her in danger.’

  ‘Yes,’ Irene said slowly. ‘I see that now.’

  ‘Do you fully understand the risks you will be taking, Irene?’

  ‘I do,’ Irene said simply. ‘Someone has to stand up to the Sykes brothers and it seems that someone has to be me.’

  ‘You are a brave young lady.’ Lester shook her hand vigorously. ‘I promise you I will use every weapon at my disposal to protect you and help to free your father.’ He turned away to open the door. ‘Now go home, my dear, and do not visit my office again. I will send word when I have something to tell you. Is there someone whom you could trust to act as an intermediary between us?’

  Irene thought hard. ‘Yes, there is Danny Priest. He works for Yapp the pickle and sauce manufacturer, and he lives with his mother at number seven Robin Hood Court. I would trust Danny with my life.’

  ‘You may have to, Irene,’ Lester said grimly. ‘Danny Priest it is. Do nothing until he gives you a message from me. In the meantime, I will visit your father in Newgate and when I have spoken with him I will lodge an appeal through the normal channels.’

  That evening at dinner Jim was in high spirits having secured a gaming licence with surprising ease. He was full of plans for the opening night, which could now go ahead at the end of the week. Irene was surprised that Kent had not carried out his threat to block the application, but she merely smiled and allowed Jim to talk. It was, she thought, almost as if he were an impresario who was about to launch a production on the London stage. He was single-minded in his ambition and it was painfully obvious how much this new venture meant to him. She struggled with feelings of guilt. Jim would be appalled if he knew that her enthusiasm for the project was based on her desire to break the Sykes gang. Her brother might have travelled the world, but she realised that he was an innocent when it came to the ways of the criminal fraternity, and that after so many years at sea he seemed to have forgotten the harsh reality of life in the East End. Jim obviously thought that by honest hard work he could make a better life for his family, and that they would be welcomed into the respectable bosom of the rising middle class. Irene listened with a sinking heart, and she realised that it was even more important to keep her plans a secret.

  ‘I’ve rambled on long enough,’ Jim said at long last. ‘Tell me what you did this afternoon. Did you visit the dressmaker and arrange for some new gowns?’

  ‘Yes, and I went to Love Lane to see Ma and Emmie. You must make time to go there, Jim. Emmie will be very upset if you don’t show any interest in your newborn niece.’

  ‘I was planning to go this evening, as it happens. I hope I don’t run into Erasmus or I fear I might forget myself and give him the thrashing that he richly deserves, but I want to see Josiah. I want to thank him for putting in a good word with the magistrate who granted me the gaming licence. Despite his idiot sons, Josiah is a steady fellow and he has the sort of business contacts that I need if I am to bring the more respectable element in society to our establishment.’

  Irene remained silent. She had not altered her opinion of her brother-in-law, but he seemed to have taken a liking to Jim, although she suspected that perhaps Josiah was more concerned with his own advancement than theirs. Jim might think that Josiah was helping them out of family loyalty, but Irene thought it more likely that he could see the advantage of introducing his business acquaintances to a gentlemen’s club similar to those patronised by the toffs up West, but a great deal easier and cheaper to join. She smiled and nodded her head. She would not spoil Jim’s moment of triumph for anything.

  ‘I want the merchants and bankers to bring their wives to the salon where they can socialise,’ Jim continued happily. ‘There are enough disreputable gaming hells in London, and ours will be quite different. I might even ask that Kent fellow along to the opening night. That would define the fact that we will be working to the letter of the law. What do you think, Renie?’

  Irene gave a start at the mention of Kent’s name. ‘Yes, whatever you want, Jim. I was going to call on his sister this afternoon, but I’m afraid it slipped my mind. I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning. I could take an invitation with me if you wish.’

  ‘Splendid. I have had some printed on gilt-edged cards, which look rather fine. Perhaps Miss Kent would like to come too. The more ladies we have in attendance the better it will look to the city worthies.’

  Irene had taken Lester’s advice to heart and she had no intention of putting Alice in danger by visiting her, nor was she going to invite Inspector Kent to the opening night, but she needed an excuse to go out alone the next day. She wanted to see Danny in order to make sure that he understood why he was being asked to act as go-between. She knew that she could trust him implicitly, but she was not certain whether he would take kindly to receiving instructions from the lame lawyer. She decided to seek Danny out at work and put her case to him in person.

  Yapp’s Pickle Factory was situated in an old warehouse overlooking Stew Lane Stairs and the murky waters of the Thames. As luck would have it, Danny was outside loading up the wagon. He greeted her with a gap-toothed grin. ‘Miss Irene. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I haven’t come to buy pickles, Danny. I need your help.’

  His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in surprise. ‘Me, miss? What can I do for you?’

  Briefly and as quickly as she could, having seen Yapp’s face peering out through one of the grime-encrusted warehouse windows, Irene explained the situation. ‘Do you think you could do this for me, Danny? It might be dangerous and you would have to be very careful not to be seen.’

  He puffed out his chest. ‘I ain’t afraid of nothing and I’d do anything for you, miss. And if it puts the Sykes brothers behind bars, then that’s a bonus.’

  ‘And also,’ Irene continued hastily as Yapp emerged from the doorway shaking his fist at her, ‘I want you to put it about that there is a new gaming club opening next Saturday in Five Foot Lane. All are welcome as long as they have the money to gamble but they must dress up in their Sunday best. My brother won’t allow anyone in unless they look respectable. Do you get my meaning, Danny?’

  ‘Ho, there! Get about your business, you lazy lout,’ Yapp shouted. ‘There’s to be no spooning with girls on my time.’

  ‘Wait for the lawyer to contact you,’ Irene whispered. ‘Don’t let me down, Danny.’

  He tipped his cap and grinned. ‘You can rely on me, miss.’

  Yapp was advancing on them with a malevolent look on his face and Irene beat a hasty retreat. She spent the rest of the morning visiting her father’s old haunts and handed out invitations to his former gambling cronies, assuring them of a splendid evening’s entertainment if they attended the opening of the new gaming house. She was careful to avoid Blue Boar Court, but she knew that her exploits would soon reach the ears of Vic and Wally and that was just what she wanted.

  As she walked along Fish Street she saw the familiar figures of Gentle Annie and Fiery Nan emerging from a public house. She went to meet them and was rewarded with tipsy hugs and the almost overpowering fumes of jigger gin and unwashed female bodies.

  ‘Where’ve you been, ducks?’ Gentle Annie demanded, squinting at her with bloodshot eyes. ‘Ain’t seen you about for ages.’

  ‘And look at you, all dressed up like a toff,’ Fiery Nan said with a throaty chuckle. ‘You ain’t in the trade now, are you?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t have the talent for it like you girls,’ Irene said, smiling. ‘It’s a long story which I’ll tel
l you when I have more time, but you can do me a favour, if you are so inclined.’

  ‘Name it, love,’ Nan said, hooking her arm around Irene’s shoulders. ‘We’ll do anything for a mate.’

  Irene took some invitations from her reticule. ‘Come to the opening night, all dressed up in your finery and behaving like ladies, and you can have as much gin as you can drink. Bring some friends, but only if they clean up nicely and know how to behave.’

  ‘What are you at, Irene?’ Annie demanded, cocking her head. ‘Why do you want us to dress up like dollymops?’

  ‘It’s a secret,’ Irene replied, tapping the side of her nose. ‘Do it to please me, and I’ll tell you everything later.’ She waved the invitations at them but Nan pushed her hand away.

  ‘It’s no good giving us those. None of the girls can read. Just tell us where to go and we’ll be there.’

  By the end of the week the rooms were furnished, carpeted and hung with new curtains. Jim had sent invitations out to Josiah’s business acquaintances and had left handwritten posters in pubs and chophouses all round the city. Deliveries of food and alcohol had been arriving daily, and Mrs Garnet had taken on extra help in order to make small cakes and pastries to serve with tea and coffee or a glass of negus for the ladies in the salon. The wine and spirits were supposed to be reserved for the gentlemen in the gaming room, but Irene had no intention of disappointing the working girls and she had stashed a plentiful supply of hard liquor in one of the cupboards in the salon.

  Irene’s new gown arrived from the dressmaker’s just an hour before the doors were due to open on Saturday evening. Mrs Garnet had reluctantly agreed to allow Flossie to act as lady’s maid for the occasion, and she made a creditable attempt at arranging Irene’s hair in elaborate coiffure. When Flossie had completed her task, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and was quite taken aback to see the elegant young woman gazing back at her as if she could not believe her eyes.

  ‘You look lovely, miss,’ Flossie murmured with a misty-eyed smile. ‘A proper lady.’