Five hundred pounds was sufficient for Ikey to purchase a passage to New York and allow him to live for a few weeks while he learned the layout of the new city and made acquaintance, by means of some lavish entertainment, with the right connections.
The remainder of the money for the remaining bill paper Ikey requested to be in the form of a letter of credit from a thoroughly reputable Birmingham bank, one acceptable to Coutts amp; Company, 59 the Strand, London, so that when Ikey presented it to the great London bank they would transfer the money into an account in his name to a bank in New York, without questioning the credit of the bank of original issue.
Maggie left the parlour and shortly after returned with five hundred pounds in Bank of England notes. Ikey examined each of these using Silas's eyeglass. When he was satisfied to their authenticity, he handed over the four sheets of billpaper, requesting only the return of the small corner he'd cut away for the boy Josh to deliver earlier.
'And now for ongoin' paper supply, how will 'e do it?' Maggie asked.
Ikey hesitated. 'It's late, my dear, perhaps we can talk about that at some other time?'
Maggie the Colour was adamant. 'Now is as good as any other. We likes to know where we stands in business o' money, Mr Solomons.'
Ikey felt immediately frustrated; his presence in America would not allow him to negotiate a further supply of bill paper from Thomas Tooth and personally gain from such a transaction. But he also knew that life has a way of twisting and turning back to bite its own tail, and he was reluctant to close the door on the prospect of a future sale, so he proceeded to negotiate as though his life should depend on the outcome.
Finally, after a great deal of bargaining, an agreement was reached whereby Silas and Maggie would pay one hundred and fifty pounds a sheet for any future paper supplies. This was a much lower price than they'd paid for the stockpiled paper, but Maggie insisted that it involved them in a far greater risk of being caught.
Ikey requested a needle and cotton and a pair of scissors, and when Maggie brought these he removed a large silk scarf from somewhere within the interior of his coat and cut it into four similar sized pieces. Then using the twine from the previous wrapping he re-wrapped the plates, each in a square of silk, and returned them to the hem of his coat, making a fair hand at sewing them back within the lining.
Then, thinking to avail himself of the means of sewing, he attempted to stitch together the rip made in his coat when he'd caught it in the door of the coach earlier that morning. The needle proved too small for the heavy felt and would not easily pass through the thick, greasy material, the thread breaking each time and rendering his efforts fruitless. Ikey could feel Maggie's mounting impatience and finally she remarked curtly, 'Will you be long, Mr Solomons? It is late and well past time we were abed.'
Ikey finally gave up the task of mending the tear and placed the needle and cotton down on the table. Rising, he walked over to the window and put his nose to a pane, looking out into the darkness where the winter wind howled and buffeted, rattling the stout window frame.
'I needs to sew them plates in the hem o' me coat to 'old me down against the blast o' the bitter wind what's blowin' in the dark and stormy night outside!' He turned and looked at Silas Browne and pointed to the fire. 'O' course, a night's lodgin's spent in a warm chair beside your hearth could leave these 'ere plates on the premises where you'd know they'd be safe from robbery?' He looked querulously at Silas. 'I could be gorn before the sparrows wake, my dear, one o' your likely lads paid a 'andsome sum to deliver me to me lodgin's?'
Maggie the Colour shook her head and spoke sharply. 'No offence, Mr Solomons, we be glad to do business with you, but we'll not 'ave a Jew sleepin' under our roof!' She cast a meaningful glance at Silas. 'That be bad luck brought upon our 'eads by our own stupidity!'
'Aye, we'll not be doin' that!' Silas Browne confirmed.
Ikey was aware of the common country superstition that a Jew sleeping under a Christian roof brought the devil into the house. It even existed in some of the smaller country taverns where he'd been turned away in the past. Nevertheless he was greatly in need of sleep and very wearied. The prospect of returning on foot, in the dark, along the way he'd earlier come was a daunting, if not to say, dangerous one.
'No offence taken to be sure, my dear!' Ikey said hastily. 'We all 'as our own little ways, but I caution you to think upon the matter a moment longer. If I should use shank's pony to get back to me lodgin's, it could turn out most dangerous at this time o' night.' He flapped the lapel of his coat meaningfully.
'We'll 'ave a boy take you in 'orse and trap,' Maggie snapped. 'You'll be back 'ere day after tomorrow, at night if you please, with remainder of paper and plates, one 'undred and ten sheets by the count, then we'll do further letter o'credit business, right?'
'No! No, my dear, beg pardon for abusin' your sensibilities on that question. You 'ave all day tomorrow and all night and part o' the following' mornin'. Then if you'll be so kind to send young Josh to the coach terminus to be there at ten o'clock in the mornin' with a note what contains the name o' the bank, which must be of excellent standing, and the time o' the appointment and such other details as what I'll need. The appointment is to be made the afternoon o' the day after tomorrow, the paper and the plates to be 'anded over in the bank after you 'as 'anded over the irrevocable letter o' credit made out in me name to Coutts amp; Company, the Strand, London.'
'And over plates and paper in bank? Are you daft?' Silas exclaimed.
'What better place, my dear? We simply asks the bank official for a private room to view the merchandise. It be none of 'is business what the package contains.'
Maggie the Colour sniffed. 'Don't you trust us to do it 'ere, then, Mr Solomons?'
Ikey laughed. 'You 'as your bad luck what you just described as a Jew spendin' a night under your roof, this you claims is deliberate stupidity. We also 'as a similar superstition, my dear. We believes that to practise deliberate stupidity is worse than witchcraft, and superstition and, most decidedly and emphatically, brings about a great deal o' bad luck to the person what is stupid!'
'The coach terminus, ten o'clock, mornin' day after tomorrow then,' Maggie the Colour snapped.
'That be quite right, my dear. Young Josh will give the letter of instructions to someone what might come up to him and say politely, 'Dick Whittington's 'ungry cat 'as come to fetch a juicy rat'.'
Maggie's head jerked in surprise. 'Beg pardon?'
'The passwords, my dear, 'case I can't make it meself, other pressin' business intervenin'.'
Maggie the Colour sighed, her patience close to ending. 'Password? Bah, what rubbish! Anyway, what's wrong with a single word, like 'copper' or ' 'orse' or if you must, 'cat'? Them words about Dick Whittington's cat, that be proper nonsense!'
Ikey smiled. 'You're quite right, my dear, rubbish it is, but it be more excitin' for a small lad what's intelligent! Much more excitin' to carry more than one word in 'is little 'ead as he sets out upon such a grand adventure. It is properly suitable to an occasion such as what we've been discussin', and what is worthy o' much more than a single word like 'copper' or ' 'orse' or 'cat'!'
Ikey was tired and a little testy but he'd deliberately created the nonsense about the cat to frustrate Maggie the Colour's desire to see him depart. It was a small revenge for her rudeness, but sweet enough at that for the lateness of the hour. Now, with the prospect of being taken into the city in a pony trap, he was as anxious to depart as she was to see him go.
Chapter Twelve
It was just past midnight when Ikey fought his way against the buffeting wind and sudden flurries of snow to a Birmingham netherken where he was well enough known. It was as foul a place as you could expect for a shilling a night, but by no means at the bottom of the rung. The wind howled about the eaves and the windows rattled as Ikey hammered on the door to be allowed to enter.
The landlord, carrying a candle cupped with his hand against the wind, welcomed him with a scowl, which changed into a sycophantic smile when Ikey stepped out of the dark into the dim candlelight.
'Oh it's you! Welcome back to our ever so 'umble abode, Mr Solomon. We 'ave much improvement since your last stay. New straw stuffed only last week, like goose down them beds is, and the room I have selected for you is near empty with only two other fine gentlemen sharin'!' He sucked air through his rotten teeth. 'Two shillin' a night and summit to eat in mornin'! There, couldn't be fairer than that now, could there, sir?'
