Bright Young Dead

by Jessica Fellowes

  They both watched him move off. The music was still playing, though Louisa thought her ears had adjusted to it, filtering it out and dampening the harsher, higher notes somehow.

  ‘Isn’t he marvellous?’ said Mary to Louisa, peeking at her over the rim of her glass.

  Louisa was taken aback. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘There aren’t many of them like that, in the police I mean,’ she carried on, as if reciting a short speech. Had she practised it? Surely not. ‘He’s kind and gentle. But fun, too.’ She held Louisa’s eye. ‘I know you’re a good friend of his. Do you know if he’s … well, walking out with any kind of girl?’

  Louisa felt cross. ‘No, I don’t know. Why should I know?’

  ‘Oh, I just wondered,’ said Mary, her pink lips sipping at the sweet drink.

  ‘I’m going to dance,’ said Louisa. ‘You can wait here for Guy.’ She abandoned Miss Moon, irritated at having been riled by her.

  Louisa found she wasn’t able to dance as she had before, feeling too self-conscious to lose herself in the music, so decided to check on Nancy and Pamela. She’d kept them in sight, in the corner of her eye, but she could see now that Nancy was dancing with a gentleman of some sort, quite close to the tables, while Pamela and Charlotte were sitting together, talking. Or rather, Pamela was looking flustered and Charlotte was talking. Before she could get there, Clara came up and moved her slightly to the side.

  ‘Hey, Louisa,’ she said gently, ‘I wouldn’t go over there just now.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Clara indicated Charlotte with her head. ‘She’s a little wary of you. You see, she thinks you were friendly with Dulcie and it’s worrying her. That bill Pamela passed along from the dressmaker?’

  Louisa felt irritation rise up in her again. ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be offended, toots. It’s a difficult time. You know how it is.’

  ‘No,’ said Louisa, ‘I don’t know.’

  Clara regarded her coldly and when she next spoke her voice was clipped, her accent taut if still American. ‘Don’t forget who you are. If you must know, Miss Charlotte thinks that it’s strange Dulcie knew where to go to steal the jewels. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, but you can understand…’

  As if a blanket had been thrown over her head, Louisa felt suffocated and trapped. This place, which had felt like a refuge only twenty-four hours before – a safe, warm retreat from the world with nothing but music and people who judged by nothing except dance – had become one of cold accusations, putting her in her place.

  ‘Tell Miss Pamela and Miss Nancy that I will be waiting for them in the ladies’ cloakroom upstairs,’ she said. ‘We will need to leave within the hour.’

  As Louisa walked away, the music tempo increased and the dancers around her picked up the faster beat. Mary was still standing by the edge of the dance floor looking rather lost, and Louisa spotted Guy walking back towards her. He didn’t look comfortable in his suit and she could see his glasses steaming up but she picked up the pace so that she could intercept him before he reached Mary.

  ‘Louisa,’ he said. He hadn’t expected to see her there.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Guy paused and checked behind him. ‘It’s just – I thought I saw another undercover policeman in here.’

  ‘Someone you know?’

  ‘Not really, he’s very senior – in charge of the Vice Squad, operating out of the Savile Row station.’

  ‘Does it matter that he’s here?’

  ‘I suppose not but he might not like to see me here, too, on his patch. I think I’d better go.’ There was a pause, while they heard Harry on his trumpet execute a flourishing solo. ‘Sorry, Louisa. I was so pleased to see you.’

  ‘Me too. Perhaps another time. Goodbye, Guy.’ Without even turning to see if Mary Moon was watching them, Louisa left, moving as fast as she could through the crowd, up two flights of stairs and into the ladies’ cloakroom. Why was she feeling so upset? She couldn’t say.

  This room was almost as packed as the dance floor, with women jostling for space in front of the mirror to apply more lipstick and comb their hair; others sat on the two pink velvet sofas and chatted animatedly in groups of three and four. There was a short queue for the loos, and one woman standing in the middle of the room who appeared to be re-hitching her stockings clip by clip, her skirt bunched up almost to her waist. There was no music, though the noise from below could be heard, and several of the women were smoking, giving the darkly painted room a clubbish air. When the woman finished doing her stockings and stood up, Louisa was shocked to realise it was ‘Babyface’, whom Dulcie had pointed out in the Elephant and Castle. The tattoos on both her arms might have given her away but tonight she had concealed them beneath long evening gloves. The Forty knew how to put on the posh. It made sense, of course, that if Alice Diamond was here, so would her closest cohort be, but it was still something of a heart-stopping moment to be this near to her, both frightening and thrilling at once. Louisa had read about roller coasters in America, where people would sit in a train of tiny, open carriages and travel along tracks that looped around and upside down. Those who had tried it described the feelings of nauseous terror along the way before giddy joy on landing safely at the bottom. She knew what they meant.

  It was possible that Babyface would know about Dulcie, and the fence she had arranged to meet to hand over the money and jewellery. But how could she possibly ask her? She couldn’t. The frustration she felt strangled her throat.

  A woman rushed in and went up to Babyface, and Louisa was close enough to be able to hear what they were saying. ‘The bloody little blighters have got in,’ said the woman, young too and in an expensive-looking dress of red velvet, but she spoke with a thick south London accent.

  ‘Who let them in?’ said Babyface, practically growling.

  ‘I don’t know, but with Mrs M. away whoever’s on the door didn’t recognise them. They’re down there now causing a scene. What if they see Alice?’

  ‘Nothing she can’t deal with but we’d better go down. They’re only meant to shift the stuff, not come in, not after that row. She’ll go mad and I don’t want her brawling tonight.’

  The two of them left, Babyface clicking her fingers and summoning several others who put away their lipsticks and quickly followed her. Louisa was only a few steps behind, her mind racing as quickly as her feet. What did she mean ‘they’re only meant to shift the stuff’?

  As the women reached the basement, it didn’t take long for them to register the change in atmosphere. The music was still loud and fast but the dancers were huddled closer together, keeping themselves as far away as they could from a rowdy group of young men who had taken over a number of the tables. Though dressed in dark suits, with slicked-back hair, they had a rough look about them and were clearly drunk. Louisa could see one man arguing fiercely with a waiter about an order and several of them had grabbed women by the waists and were either attempting to kiss them or clamping them close to their bodies while they moved and laughed, not caring that their dance partners were grimacing and trying to push them off. A large man that Louisa had seen before with thick black eyebrows and salted hair started marching towards them, several waiters flanking him and then, all at once, a fight broke out.

  The music didn’t seem to stop but beat more insistently than ever, providing a rhythm to the punches that were now flying, as tables and chairs were knocked over. A few women were shrieking but they were soon bundled out of the club. Louisa edged around and grabbed Nancy and Pamela.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ she said and pulled them out. Pamela looked worried, Nancy annoyed, but Louisa couldn’t worry about that. Once they got to the stairs people were pushing and shoving, making them slip, but Louisa felt safer for having got out.

  Louisa spotted Babyface just ahead of them, with an arm around the waist of the woman who could only be Alice Diamond, whom she’d seen earlier. Then,
as everyone came up into the hall on the ground floor, making a grab for their coats, the two women were nowhere to be seen. They couldn’t have got out to the front door, nor gone up the stairs to the cloakroom because Louisa would have seen them, she was sure. Then she spotted Dolly Meyrick emerging from a dark corner at the back of the hall, smoothing down her hair and looking as if she was trying to steady her breathing. Ted’s girl. There was a connection, Louisa knew it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The next morning, Louisa had to pack Nancy and Pamela’s bags for their return to Asthall Manor. They had got up early – force of habit made it none too difficult – and gone down for breakfast with their aunt. Neither of them particularly wished to prolong the occasion so Louisa knew she didn’t have long to get them ready. They would catch the ten o’clock train from Paddington and once home Louisa would be thrown back full pelt into the usual nursery routine. Nanny Blor understandably would be eager to earn some rest after her helper had had her days away in London. There was just one thing Louisa needed to do before they left. Buckling up the brown leather suitcase and setting it on the floor, Louisa stepped quietly down to the hallway. There was only one telephone and it wasn’t possible to have a private call but with Iris and the girls at breakfast, perhaps she could risk it.

  ‘Vine Street station, please,’ said Louisa to the operator.

  ‘Right away, miss,’ came the high-pitched voice back. There was a click and a connection and then a policeman asking how he could help.

  ‘May I talk to Sergeant Sullivan?’

  There was a hesitation at the other end of the line; the policeman presumably had expected to take down the details of a lost item or a crime that had been committed.

  ‘Is it something I could help you with, miss?’ he asked. Why did they all assume she was a miss and not a madam?

  ‘No, I’m sorry, it’s not,’ she said, as unapologetic as she could make herself sound.

  ‘Right then. Hold on, please.’

  She heard the clunk of the receiver as it was laid upon the desk and then the heavy tread of the policeman as he went in search of Guy. Finally, more footsteps and a rustle as the phone was picked up again.

  ‘Hello? Sergeant Sullivan speaking. Who is this?’

  ‘Guy, it’s Louisa.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s just I thought you should know what happened last night.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Not long after you’d left, some sort of mob arrived and started causing trouble. A fight broke out and we ran out.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ He really did sound relieved. ‘But you’re fine?’

  ‘Yes, we’re fine. It’s just that I’m pretty sure Alice Diamond was there last night.’

  ‘What? How do you know?’

  ‘Someone pointed her out.’ She could hardly say she already knew what she looked like, could she? ‘When I was in the ladies’ cloakroom, I overheard someone warn one of the women in there that a fight was about to happen and they said, “They’re only meant to shift the stuff, not come in.” Then they all ran off.’

  ‘That would make sense,’ said Guy, excitement in his voice. ‘The Forty have fences, men who sell on their stolen goods so the women don’t handle that end of the business. I’ve had a tip-off that they go to the 43.’

  Louisa absorbed this fact, trying to think how it fitted in. Right now, she couldn’t but she knew she’d need to keep it stored away. ‘The thing is, Alice Diamond was just ahead of us on the stairs and I know she didn’t leave through the front door, or go up the stairs to the ladies’ cloakroom. I’d have been able to see it.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I think Dolly Meyrick smuggled her out of the club, through a secret back exit.’

  There was a short silence, while Guy processed this information. ‘Did you witness this?’

  ‘Not exactly. She was there, and then she wasn’t, and then I saw Miss Meyrick. She’s the owner’s daughter, you know, running the club while her mother’s in Paris.’

  ‘Supposedly,’ said Guy.

  ‘Oh, maybe, yes. Anyway, I saw the daughter come out of a dark corner, looking a bit flustered. I can’t think of any other way they could have got out.’

  It seemed a bit pathetic now. But at least it was more than that silly girl, Miss Moon, would have seen last night. Not to mention that Pamela would be pleased. Perhaps Lord De Clifford would call off the engagement once he knew what his fiancée had done.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Cannon, we’ll look into it.’ He’d called her that because there would be others overhearing the conversation, she knew.

  She heard a noise from the dining room, cutlery chinking on the plates as it was laid down.

  ‘I’d better go. I hope it helps.’ Louisa rang off before he could reply and only just in time before the maid, Gracie, stepped out into the hall and looked at her sternly.

  ‘Just waiting for Miss Nancy and Miss Pamela,’ said Louisa with as much authority as she could muster, ‘we’ll be setting off for the station shortly.’

  Whichever way she turned, it seemed, there was a close-run thing.

  * * *

  While Louisa was gathering Nancy and Pamela together with their things, getting ready to return to Asthall Manor, Guy put down the telephone in the police station and wondered what he should do next.

  Harry would know about the fight, so Guy sent him a note asking him to telephone the station as soon as he could. He hadn’t heard anything that morning about whether the police had been called to the club, though it was hardly likely Miss Meyrick would have wanted them alerted, with alcohol clearly being served illegally.

  Harry slept long hours after a night at the club, so it was almost four o’clock when Guy was called again to the telephone.

  ‘Hello, Guy. What’s this about then? What am I ringing you for?’ said Harry in his usual good-natured way. ‘Are you going to ask me about Miss Cannon again?’

  ‘No,’ said Guy shortly. ‘That’s over.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure it had even begun,’ said Harry, joshing.

  But Guy was in no mood for it. ‘I heard there was a fight at the club last night. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘You’re not going to make me regret asking you down, are you?’ said Harry. ‘I asked you as a chum, not a policeman.’

  Guy decided to keep his usual refrain about being ‘never off duty’ to himself for the time being. ‘No, of course not. I won’t do anything about it but I’m interested.’

  ‘It was the Elephant and Castle mob, the lads that is,’ said Harry. ‘They don’t often come down and if Mrs Meyrick’s on the door she recognises them and won’t let them in. But she’s away at the moment, officially at least, and whatever girl was there obviously didn’t realise. They kicked off all right. Left everything in a state. They always do.’

  ‘What about Alice Diamond? Louisa said you told her she was in the club, too.’

  There was a short pause, and then Harry said, ‘Yes, she does come in. She’s not very hard to spot and everyone knows who she is. But her girls behave unless someone starts a fight. Then they brawl like men. Not seen them do that for a while though. There must be some sort of disagreement going on between them this week.’

  ‘OK, thank you, Harry.’

  ‘You’re not going to start asking awkward questions, are you?’

  Guy crossed his fingers. ‘No, don’t worry. I’m not going to spoil your gig.’

  ‘That’s it, then?’

  ‘That’s it, pal. You’re free to go.’ Guy put down the telephone.

  Now he had something to tell Cornish.

  * * *

  Having checked his boots and belt buckle were polished to a high shine, Guy knocked on the door of Cornish’s office, his heart, if not quite in his mouth, then somewhere halfway up his throat and doing battle with his Adam’s apple. He knew Cornish was in there but couldn’t hear any response, so knocke
d again and this time elicited an impatient ‘Come in!’ from the other side.

  The inspector’s office was not much bigger than the large desk he sat behind and was barely furnished. A picture of the king hung on the wall and there was a window that looked out onto the back of another wing, beside which a police van was parked. Cornish was shuffling through some papers, a look of weariness on his face. When Guy came in he barely looked up and when he did it was to say, ‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ and return to his papers.

  ‘Good afternoon, sir,’ said Guy, standing as ramrod straight as he could manage.

  Cornish mumbled something in reply but didn’t look up.

  ‘I’ve had some information about Alice Diamond that I think may be of use to you, sir.’

  At this Cornish stopped his shuffling and raised his head expectantly.

  ‘It seems she frequents the nightclub at 43 Gerrard Street, and was seen there last night.’

  Cornish sighed and put his papers down. ‘Oh really? And what was she seen doing there?’

  Guy realised he hadn’t asked this. ‘Nothing, sir. That is, I don’t know, sir. I just received information, confirmed by two witnesses, that she was at the nightclub, and left shortly after a fight broke out.’

  ‘Was she seen stealing anything? Heard boasting about her successful thefts?’

  ‘No, sir. Not so far as I’m aware, sir.’ The room hadn’t felt warm when Guy first went in but he was sweating under his arms now.

  ‘I’d like to say it’s useful to have confirmation that she’s in London but we knew that already. It’s of absolutely no consequence to know that Alice Diamond was seen in a nightclub. Unless she was seen drinking?’ A hopeful note in his voice.

  ‘I can’t confirm that, sir.’

  ‘Then it’s absolutely bloody useless,’ Cornish roared. ‘Get out and don’t come back until you’ve got something worth my time to hear.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  In the daytime, 43 Gerrard Street looked like just another scruffy townhouse in Soho. The pavements were black with grime and there were fewer people about. It would be another two or three hours before the punters started showing up for their illicit pleasures. Ignoring the bell that advertised Mr Gold the tailor on the top floor, Guy knocked firmly and was immediately faced by a man who appeared to fill the entire doorframe as if he’d been made to measure for it.