A Most Dangerous Woman

by L M Jackson

  ‘Dodge?’ exclaimed the boy, deliberately loud. ‘Now it ain’t enough to poison a fellow but call him a liar an’ all! Here – take your bleedin’ penny for your hash and I hope it chokes you – if that horsemeat don’t choke you first!’

  And, before Mrs. Tanner could say a word, the boy stood up, pulled a penny from his waistcoat pocket, and shoved it into her hand, stalked from his seat to the door, and slammed it behind him.

  ‘Must be wrong in the head,’ said Norah, disdainfully.

  Norah’s employer shook her head, looking at the penny. ‘I don’t think so. Go and find Ralph – he’s out the back.’

  ‘What do you want him for?’ asked Norah.

  ‘Tell him he’s in charge,’ said Sarah Tanner, grabbing her shawl from the hook behind the counter. ‘I’m just going out.’

  Sarah Tanner stepped outside the shop and headed down Leather Lane, following in the boy’s footsteps.

  It was almost mid-day, and most of the costers’ barrows were emptying, with the exception of a solitary vendor who seemed to have acquired two barrels of herring, whose aroma – a little too ripe for popular taste – filled the street. The market, however, was still crowded. For there were a host of lesser dealers upon the lane whose stock-in-trade were less perishable items. They filled the pavements around the barrows, occasionally interpolating their own little cart or sometimes simply laying a cloth upon the ground. Dealers in ‘fancy goods’, ‘plain goods’ – and, if truth be told, goods that were no good to anyone – who sold everything from curtain-hooks to candles, patent remedies to pin-cushions. They always attracted a curious crowd and, in consequence, it was no easy matter to spot an individual amongst them.

  Nonetheless, after a few minutes, when she had almost given up hope, she saw the self-same boy. He was loitering upon the edge of the market, near a small hand-barrow, propped upon the pavement so as to render it horizontal. The goods for sale were, as far as she could make out, of the ‘fancy’ kind – cheap jewellery, scarf-pins and brooches – not the sort to entice the average youth. But there were several interested parties already there, including a middle-aged gentleman of the shabby-genteel variety, bending over in earnest contemplation of the equally shabby wares, perhaps choosing an affordable gift for an elderly mother or long-suffering spouse.

  She watched the boy edge forward. Instinctively, she stepped back behind the nearest barrow. For, in that instant, she had a good idea what would happen next.

  There!

  Even a seasoned police constable might have over-looked it. But she knew the movements of a practised pickpocket; and – if only for the briefest instant – she saw the glint of metal in his fingers, as a watch passed from one waistcoat pocket to another.

  The boy then walked on briskly, but not so quickly as to attract attention. She followed, on the opposite side of the road, negotiating the various makeshift stalls. The boy slowed his steps to a casual sauntering pace and it was a simple matter to catch up with him. She waited for the right moment, dodging the crowd.

  Then she reached out and grabbed hold of him.

  ‘Eh!’ the boy protested, instantly wriggling free. A look of angry indignation passed across his face; but it dissipated the second he saw his assailant.

  ‘You! I thought you was a Peeler!’

  ‘I’ll fetch one if you like,’ said Sarah Tanner.

  ‘Well, you do that, missus. I ain’t the party what’s poisoning other parties, am I now?’ he said, merrily. ‘What do you want with us, anyhow?’

  ‘You know there was nothing wrong with that meat. What are you playing at?’

  ‘Playing?’ said the boy. ‘I ain’t playing, darlin’. Straight as they come.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Just!’ exclaimed the boy, visibly amused by the entire exchange.

  ‘Then,’ continued Mrs. Tanner, holding out her closed hand and opening it, ‘what’s this?’

  The boy looked down and immediately put a hand to his own waistcoat pocket. For, before him, lay the very watch which had only recently passed into his own possession. His mouth fell open, then, after a second to two, he broke into uncontrollable laughter.

  ‘That’s a proper facer, that is!’ he exclaimed, wiping his eyes. ‘I thought you was playing the high and mighty, when you must be the best prig this side of Holborn – I didn’t feel a bleedin’ thing. Just! Well, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, missus, honest I am.’

  ‘I doubt there’s much honest about you,’ said Sarah Tanner warily. ‘Do you want the watch back?’

  ‘If you like,’ shrugged the boy, ‘it was only a lark.’

  ‘Is that what you’ll tell the magistrate?’

  ‘What, are you going to give me in charge, then, is that it?’ said the boy, with a chuckle. ‘Nah, you keep it missus. I bet you’ve got an uncle or two who can give it a good home, eh?’

  ‘I might do. I could get a good price on it. Let’s say I give you half if you tell me what that business in my shop was all about.’

  The boy merely smirked and shook his head.

  ‘Pleasure, though, missus – charmed!’

  And, with a cheerful nod, he raised a hand to his cap and made to walk off. Sarah Tanner, without giving the matter much thought, grabbed hold of the boy’s arm. But as he turned round, the youth took hold of her hand with his own, and looked her in the eye. All the good humour had drained from his face, to be replaced with a cold, malevolent stare.

  ‘I’ll keep away from your little shop, darlin’, out of courtesy. But don’t interfere with the Brass Band, ’cos we’re not the boys to take it, see?’

  And with those words, his cock-sure smile returned, and he darted into the crowd…