places they can go: all the pubs, Joey’s—I needn’t tell you. I’ll call in at the Lion on my way; if the police are concentrating on the area, you can let me know there.”
“Okay,” said Ebbutt resignedly.
“You know the new owner at the place, don’t you?”
“Yes. “E don’t want no trouble, neiver.”
“Tell him to have the stage trap-door clear,” Rollison said. “That’s important, Bill. I might lose if that’s covered up.”
“I’ll see to it, Mr Ar. But I tell you—”
“I’ll come straight to you afterwards, Bill.”
“And ‘oo’s goin’ ter carry you?” muttered Ebbutt. “I wish you wouldn’t go, Mr Ar.”
“So does Jolly,” said Rollison. “I’ll be seeing you.”
He put the receiver down and heard Clarissa say: “I’ve no influence at all with him, Jolly.” She looked at Jolly. “Well? You’ve fallen for it, have you?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you to meet him, sir?”
“At Old Nob’s.”
“Old Nob’s!” exclaimed Clarissa. “That’s where I met him before.”
She stood up and knocked a champagne glass over. The champagne spread, still bubbling, over the cloth, gradually soaked in and became a dull wet patch.
“It is the most verminous, disreputable and dangerous haunt in the East End of London,” declared Jolly and drew in his breath. He stood at attention and trembled slightly, i think you must be out of your right mind to contemplate going there to-night, Mr Rollison, and I would be doing less than my duty if I failed to say so.”
“You certainly would, Jolly. Care to change your mind, Clarissa?”
“I’ll come,” she said.
“Sir! You can’t take Miss Arden, you really can’t!”
“We’ll leave at nine o’clock and I’ll make a few calls first,” Rollison said. “I shall go in these clothes. I want the palm-pistol fully charged both with ammonia pellets and bullets—no shoulder holster, no ordinary pistol. I’ll take the sword-stick, too. Miss Arden won’t be armed.”
Jolly bowed, trembling.
“We’ll have coffee now,” said Rollison. “Then fetch the car from Pulham Gate. I want to be recognised by everyone.”
* * *
“I suppose if I ask you whether you really ought to go or whether you’re planning it out of sheer stubbornness, you’ll think I’ve lost my nerve or else have some sinister purpose,” Clarissa said. “Can the police, the man Ebbutt and Jolly all be wrong?”
It was five minutes to nine.
“They’re all quite right,” said Rollison.
“So you are crazy?”
“As crazy as Mellor. He may not turn up, of course. He probably won’t. That’s what the others fear. They think someone else will be waiting to cut me up. Old Nob’s is notorious, if you need telling that. Probably Mellor’s best move would be to stage another riot there with two or three toughs ordered to get me while the fun’s going on. The police wouldn’t be able to pin it on to anyone then. But my money’s on his turning up.”
“Can you give me one good reason why he should?”
“Yes,” said Rollison. “But you have to know your East End so as to understand it. You have to know your crooks, your gangs, the mentality of the leaders. You have to know that the one besetting sin of them all is vanity. Mellor’s gone all out to make himself a Big Boss. We’ve had few others in London but none has lasted so long. Every now and again someone who thinks he’s cleverer than the rest has a cut at running the East End with all its profitable rackets. There are two ways to do it. One to work well in with everyone, be friendly, bribe your way. That takes a long time. The other way is to build yourself up a reputation for terrorising everyone else. Mellor’s done that. He had two big plans; one has gone sour on him but the second might work because he still has his reputation. He hates my guts because I killed Waleski and saved “my” Mellor. That gives him one good reason for wanting me out of the way. There’s a stranger reason still. Jolly should really tell you about it. I’m fairly well known in the East End. By a mixture of luck and judgment I’ve slapped down several of these would-be Big Boys. Now, if Mellor can slap me down— follow me?”
Clarissa actually laughed.
“That would set the seal to his fame?”
“He’s crazy enough to think so, which makes us both crazy.” Rollison stood up.
“One more question,” said Clarissa. “Why do you want me to come with you?”
“Why did you destroy those letters?”
“I think we’d better go.” Clarissa put out her cigarette as Jolly came in to say that it was four minutes past nine and that the car was waiting.
“Good,” said Rollison to Jolly. “I’ll be back late.”
