by Sam Michaels
David’s eyebrows rose and he rubbed his clean-shaven chin. ‘I’d feel the same in your shoes and I wish there was some way I could help. I’ve exhausted every avenue and come up with nothing.’
‘Yes, me too,’ she lied. David didn’t care for Kevin Kelly but she knew he wouldn’t want to get involved in taking the man down. He had too much to lose and even though he’d said he loved her, she doubted he’d risk his life for her.
‘You must have your suspicions?’ he asked.
‘No, not really. Maybe it was just random. I would have thought that if it was to get at me, someone would have claimed responsibility by now.’
‘It wasn’t random. Men don’t get shot down in the street by a passing car in random acts. No, Georgina, it was very deliberate and I worry for your safety. I’d like to offer some of my best men to your service.’
‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I have all the protection I require.’
‘I insist.’
‘And I insist not,’ she replied firmly.
‘You’re a stubborn woman but like it or not, I’ve placed men on your door here, at Livingstone Road and at home as well as on your club and house in Clapham. They will work alongside your own men and I promise you won’t notice them.’
Georgina knew there was no point protesting. David was just as stubborn as her. She may as well graciously accept his offer. ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to smile.
‘There’s no need for gratitude. The measure is as much for my benefit as it is yours. It makes me feel better to know my men are keeping an eye on you. I’ll get off now and leave you in peace.’
Georgina watched him leave her office, glad to see the back of him. Thankfully, he hadn’t used his eyes to toy with her or made any reference to his feelings for her. He hadn’t even given her his usual light kiss on the cheek. For that, she was grateful.
Soon after he’d gone, Benjamin returned and told her Johnny was here. The man walked in with his fur-collared coat draped over his shoulders. His shoes shone almost as much as the chunky gold watch on his wrist that caught the light of the low-lying sun coming through the window. He sat where David had just been and picked off a tiny bit of fluff from his trousers.
‘How long are you gonna keep Tobias for?’ Johnny asked, puffing on his cigar.
Georgina clasped her hands together and looked over her desk. ‘Not for much longer. I’ve got plans for him.’
‘It’s been three days – has he said anything yet?’
‘No, but he doesn’t have to. I know Charlotte Mipple had something to do with it.’
‘Do you want me to give him another slap to get it out of him?’
‘That won’t be necessary. We’ll sort him out later but I’ve got other business to see to first.’
‘Righteo. Let’s get down to it then. I see Maynard’s blokes are on the door. Are you sending me and Victor on a mission?’
‘A mission,’ she repeated. ‘What sort of mission?’
‘I dunno. I thought you’d found out who killed Lash.’
‘No,’ she replied flatly. Kelly needed to be dead but she wouldn’t send her best men to avenge her husband’s death. She couldn’t risk losing Johnny or Victor. They meant the world to her, like the brothers she’d never had. And she knew they loved her like family too. But there was someone she could send and she’d already put her plans into action.
*
Nancy Austin closed the book she’d finished reading and placed it on her lap. She rested her head back, thinking about Sir Percy Blakeney and his double life as the eponymous protagonist of The Scarlet Pimpernel. The story had gripped her and she’d drawn many similarities to Harold’s secret life as a spy. Her dear lover was clandestinely risking everything but there’d be no accolade for him or public recognition of his bravery. Oh, how she admired the man and would never again complain of being bored or make demands on his time. It was the least she could do to support him and allow him to carry out his covert operations.
She checked the clock. He was late again but he was doing important and dangerous work. She wished he could talk to her about it though she understood it was impossible. But it was such a bothersome worry, never knowing where he was or what he was doing. She could only pray that he hadn’t encountered another German spy. She hoped it was unlikely and couldn’t imagine there would be many German spies running around on British soil. Anyway, Harold had already efficiently dealt with one and she was confident, if need be, he was quite capable of doing the same again.
She’d carried out Harold’s instruction to the T. Firstly cutting his coat to shreds and then carefully disposing of the bloodied evidence in the communal dustbins. She’d felt very honoured to have been trusted with such an enormous responsibility and was glad of Harold’s faith in her.
She heard him come through the door and jumped to her feet, the book falling to the floor. ‘Hello, my dear,’ she purred, sauntering towards him. He looked tired, worn, his face pale and drawn. ‘You look like you’ve had a strenuous day.’
‘Hell, you wouldn’t believe it,’ he answered and after lightly kissing her, threw his new coat on the back of the armchair.
‘Why don’t you try me?’ she urged, hoping against all odds that he’d divulge something of his secret life.
‘My work is not for your ears, my sweet,’ he answered and poured his usual drink. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, picking up the book she’d dropped. ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel,’ he said and placed it on the side.
‘Yes, it’s awfully good. Have you read it?’
‘No, I can’t say I have.’
‘Oh, you should. It’s about…’
Harold interrupted her. ‘I’m sure it’s a riveting tale but right now, all I’d really like to hear is the radio. If you don’t mind,’ he said and walked to the wall where one had been built in. It was just one of the luxuries that came with the apartments in Du Cane Court.
‘Oh, OK,’ Nancy said. ‘Shall I draw you a bath?’
‘Yes. And make yourself available. I’ll be in presently.’
As the hot water ran into the tub, Nancy peeled off her clothes. She hoped Harold would languish in the bath for a while and not rush off again so soon after making love. But, although he hadn’t directly told her he was working as a spy, he’d hinted at it and at least she now understood his reasons for not being with her as much as he used to be.
She climbed into the steaming water, her porcelain-white skin turning pink as she lowered herself down. The bath salts she’d used had dissolved, leaving a lavender fragrance in the air. The mirror above the sink had steamed over and condensation dripped down the black and white art-deco-style tiles.
Twenty minutes later, the bath water had cooled and Harold hadn’t yet joined her. She called his name but there was no answer. After easing herself out of the bath and wrapping herself in a robe, Nancy padded through to the lounge. Harold was sat staring vacantly ahead, his face ashen.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
His eyes snapped to hers. ‘There was an explosion in Munich… an attempt to assassinate the Führer,’ he answered disbelievingly.
‘You mean one of Hitler’s own people tried to kill him?’
‘Yes. A time bomb went off, killing several people but not Hitler.’
‘It’s a pity he survived. His death might have brought an end to the war.’
‘No, never!’ Harold exclaimed, rising to his feet. ‘Hitler’s work would continue, even in the wake of his death.’
‘Well, even so, it’s still a shame that he wasn’t killed.’
‘Don’t talk in such ways. You mustn’t believe the propaganda you read in the newspapers and hear on the radio. The hate campaign against Hitler is unfounded, designed to control your thoughts. The government is scared of losing power to a man with far greater vision than they could ever imagine.’
‘Goodness, Harold, you sound like you agree with what Hitler is doing.’
Harold walked to the
drinks cabinet and poured himself another. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said. ‘I’m a lawyer and you also have a legal mind. It is our duty to look at every side of any dispute. That is all.’
He had his back to her so she couldn’t gauge his feelings from any facial expressions but she didn’t believe he sounded sincere. ‘Which government are you working for?’ she asked.
‘I beg your pardon?’ he said, spinning to look at her.
‘I’m not stupid, Harold. I’ve known for some time that something has been amiss and when you came here the other evening with blood on your coat, you dropped enough hints… You’re a spy, but who are you working for?’
Harold threw his head back and his shoulders shook up and down as he heartily laughed. ‘You really believe that, don’t you? I had you down as an intelligent woman but you’re just about as thick as they come. Good grief, you stupid woman, you’ve been reading far too many fantasy novels. I suppose you got that incredible but ludicrous idea from this,’ he said, and held her book in the air.
His mocking laughter and belittling words hurt Nancy and she ran from the room, fighting to hold back tears. Sitting on the edge of the bath, her mind turned. Whose blood was on his coat if not a German spy’s? Why had she needed to hide the evidence? And everything he’d told her, it had all pointed to him working undercover. But if Harold wasn’t involved in working covertly for the British government, what was he really up to? And why couldn’t he tell her?
‘I’ve work to do. I have to leave.’
Nancy looked up and saw him standing in the bathroom doorway.
‘Look, I’m sorry I was mean to you. Just be a good little lady for now.’ He walked in, placed his finger under her chin and lifted her head. ‘I’ll try and get back tomorrow to see you,’ he said and leant down to gently kiss her lips before leaving.
Nancy touched her lips where Harold’s had been. He was tired, worn out; that would explain his temper and at least he’d apologised. But he’d left her with even more questions than she’d had before. She still believed he could be a spy. It wasn’t as if he could admit it. Whatever Harold was involved in, she knew it had to be important. And, for now, she’d do what he asked and be that good little lady who would strive to make her man happy.
15
The next day, Georgina was back in the office and talking with Johnny. Everything was in place so now it was time to act. ‘The Vauxhall mob should be here any minute,’ she said.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on with that fat wanker? Why did I have to use his clapped-out old banger to rob them dealers in Hatton Garden?’
‘All will become clear soon enough,’ she answered, then turned to Benjamin and told him to take the rest of the day off. She preferred to keep her trusted accountant in the dark for his own safety. The less he knew, the better.
Once Benjamin had left, Johnny lit a cigar and blew smoke rings into the air before saying, ‘Miss Garrett, I hope you don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here, but I thought you liked Mr Harel.’
‘I do.’
‘But he’s a Jew, like the jewellery dealers in The Nosherie. I know he don’t say much but he won’t be pleased with me when he finds out I robbed his own people.’
‘Don’t worry, Johnny. It was Benjamin who told me about that café and how the Jewish dealers trade jewels over a piece of salt beef and a cup of coffee. He said they were up for the taking.’
‘Blimey, Mr Harel is a dark horse. I thought he was all kosher.’
‘Johnny, don’t be so naïve. If he was as straight as a die, he wouldn’t be working for me.’
Victor came in and told them Wayne had arrived. Georgina smiled wickedly at Johnny. ‘Perfect,’ she said. Her plans were finally coming together.
Wayne limped in with Dan, who was carrying a large box.
‘Where do you want it, Miss Garrett?’ Wayne asked.
‘Over there, in the corner. I trust the transaction went smoothly?’
‘Yeah, no problems. Maynard was happy for me to take the lot off his hands. I’ve dropped the rest off in Clapham, like you said.’
Johnny looked at her with a confused expression and she could tell he was desperate to know why she’d sent the Vauxhall mob to buy cigarettes from David Maynard, a transaction she would normally have done herself. She decided to put him out of his misery. ‘With the increased taxes on alcohol and fags, I thought it would be wise to stockpile. You never know, the government might hike the prices higher yet, depending on how long this bloody war lasts. Anyway, David is shrewd and will only sell me a limited amount. He holds some back for higher-paying customers. I knew he was sitting on lots more smokes than what he offered me, so I got Wayne to buy up the rest. Yes, it cost me a few quid more but we’ll still make on it.’
‘Couldn’t you just have offered to pay more? The same rate as Wayne?’
‘No. If he knew that I was willing to pay more, he’d want that sort of money from me all the time. I’ve got my normal rate secured plus some extra stock.’
‘Right, that makes sense – very clever.’
Georgina knew it was a smart move but she wasn’t finished with Wayne yet. ‘Take a seat,’ she told him.
Johnny had told her about seeing Sparrow battered on the pub floor and a woman in tears bleeding outside the Lamb. She guessed it was Wayne’s handiwork so what she said next didn’t leave her with any guilt. ‘You owe me, Wayne.’
‘Yeah, I do, but I thought doing this deal with Maynard was paying my debt.’
‘Not even close. This was business and you’ve been paid well enough to do it. So it hasn’t relinquished your debt to me.’
‘Oh, right. So what do you want from me?’
‘I’m glad you’ve asked. I want Kevin Kelly dead,’ Georgina answered, her tone serious.
‘Yeah, so do a lot of people but he’s untouchable.’
‘No-one is untouchable. Granted, he’s dangerous, but I want you to get your fat arse up to Liverpool and don’t come back ’til that bastard has stopped breathing.’
Georgina saw the horrified look of fear cross Wayne’s face and his head shone with sweat. Even Johnny looked taken aback.
‘But… Miss Garrett… I can’t… he’ll kill me.’
‘Would you rather I did?’
‘No… but…’
‘I’ll tell you what, Wayne,’ Georgina interrupted and paused, whilst Wayne sat and gawped with his mouth wide open, obviously at a loss for words. ‘You’ve got a choice. You can either upset me, which isn’t advisable, do a stretch inside for a particularly violent robbery or see to it that Kevin Kelly dies. It’s up to you.’
‘What robbery?’
‘Don’t you read the papers? Three Jews were attacked in a café. The Nosherie up near Hatton Gardens and the attacker stole the jewels they were trading.’
‘But I ain’t done no robberies up there,’ Wayne protested.
‘I know. But I have photographic evidence of your car parked outside, just minutes before the attack. Of course, if these photographs were to fall into the hands of the police…’
‘You set me up… You weren’t having my car repaired…’
‘Yep. But I’m a fair woman, Wayne. Once you’ve done the job on Kelly, I’ll give you the photos to burn and fifty per cent of the haul. It’s pretty sizable – you won’t be disappointed.’
‘For fuck’s sake. Prison, death in Liverpool or whatever you feel like dishing out to me. What a fucking choice!’
‘Think positively, Wayne. You could end up with a fair chunk of money in your pocket.’
Wayne looked down and scratched his head. ‘I can’t do time again, no fucking way… All right, I’ll do it… I’ll kill Kelly,’ he said with no enthusiasm.
‘Good. You’ve made the right decision. And, Wayne, if you let Kelly know that I sent you, if he doesn’t kill you himself, I will.’
Ten minutes later, after Wayne agreed he’d leave for Liverpool the next day, Victor closed the door behind him a
nd Georgina felt a glimmer of optimism. Finally, if Wayne pulled it off, Lash’s death would be avenged and the man who’d violently abused her would rot in hell. And she wouldn’t have suffered any more losses.
‘Have you really got photographs?’ Johnny asked.
‘Yes. Unlike you, I’m not a bluffer. It wasn’t difficult, Johnny. We do have a photographer renting rooms from us in Clapham.’
‘Oh, yeah, of course. But why do you want Kelly dead? I thought all that bad blood between him and you was finished with yonks back.’
‘So did I,’ she answered solemnly. ‘But it was Kevin Kelly who murdered Lash.’
Johnny gasped and threw his arms in the air, clearly stunned at what she’d told him. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’m fucking sure.’
‘How… how do you know?’
‘Because he told me. At Lash’s funeral. He…’ Her voice trailed off as she fought to stop herself from crying at the flashbacks of him raping her. She swallowed hard and continued. ‘It’s fact. So Kelly has to die. If Wayne doesn’t kill him, I’ll find another way.’
‘I’m so sorry, Miss Garrett. You should have told me. You didn’t have to carry this alone. But why are you sending that fat bastard up to Liverpool to do the job? We’d do it for you; just give us the word. It’d be my pleasure to unload my gun into Kelly.’
Georgina was appreciative of Johnny’s concern and knew he was sincere. But she wouldn’t allow the bloodshed of any of her trusted men. They’d do anything for her, without question. She spoke softly when she said to Johnny, ‘I know and thank you. I’d rather let Wayne get his head blown off than you or Victor.’ Then, putting it aside for the moment, she added, ‘Now, let’s see to Tobias.’
*
A while later, Victor knocked heavily on the back door of the Queen’s Head. As they waited for an answer, Georgina looked over her shoulder to Johnny who was sitting in the car with Tobias.
Victor hammered again and Tobias’s father eventually came to the door. He looked petrified when he saw Georgina.
Victor pushed the man to one side and Georgina walked in. ‘Where’s your son’s room?’ she asked.