it. This'll pay for the inconvenience o' crossing the lane,' he said, pocketing the coin. 'Ya owe the brat a sov, so pay up, Ikey Solomon!'
Ikey's eyes widened in surprise. 'You was in the Hare and Hounds?' he exclaimed, naming the flash-house across the lane.
Marley nodded. 'Ya was due back 'bout now, ya couldn't 'ave gone to too many places what wouldn't 'ave shopped ya, this were one,' he explained simply, giving Ikey a slow smile. 'How may I be o' service to ya?'
Ikey turned to Sparrer Fart and handed him a sovereign. '
'Ang about and you might learn something, me boy! See what we just seen demonstrated?' He turned and gave Bob Marley an oily smile, returned his gaze to the small boy and stooping low he pushed the candle close to his dirty little face. 'See? Discipline!' He tapped the side of his forehead with his forefinger. 'Use o' the noggin, thinkin'! That's trainin', my dear, that's discipline, that be what makes a great tooler into a swell mobsman, an aristocrat o' the art o' pickin' pockets!' Ikey straightened up, satisfied that he'd recovered his dignity by making his original point and at the same time had sufficiently softened Bob Marley with his flattery. Patting Sparrer Fart on the head, he said, 'You 'as just 'ad the benefit o' the wisdom o' Solomon, my dear!'
Sparrer Fart looked up and pointed to Bob Marley and then to Ikey. 'Oh yeah, 'ow come Mr Marley's got 'arf a sov what's yours and I've got a sov? Be that the wisdom o' Solomon?'
The boy ducked as Ikey swatted at his head with his free hand.
Marley laughed, delighted at the boy's quick mind. 'You've not lost yer touch, Ikey, yer still the best o' the kidsmen, there ain't no one knows better 'ow to pick the fly ones!' He too patted the top of Sparrer Fart's greasy cap. 'Stay away from the gin, you've got all the makin's, son.'
Sparrer hadn't moved. 'What about t'other lads, Ikey? You promised them a shillin' fer lookin' and a good tightener wif a pint o' best beer to follow.'
Marley looked suspiciously over at Ikey. 'That true?'
Ikey gave him a sheepish grin and a reluctant hand went into the interior of his coat and shortly returned with two sovereigns which he handed to Sparrer. 'Mind you give this to Sweetface Mulligan to share out. He's the kidsman when I'm away. Now scarper! Bugger orf!' He turned to Marley. 'Shall we go upstairs, there's a fire in the 'earth.' Then remembering Marley's reluctance he added, 'It ain't dangerous, only a tad rickety but the stairs be solid enough.'
'What, up them?' Marley said in alarm and pointed above to the dark shape of the stairs where Sparrer Fart had disappeared as though swallowed into a deep black hole. 'Not bleedin' likely! We'll talk down 'ere if ya don't mind.'
Ikey clasped his hands together in front of his chest. 'I needs a lair, a place where somebody what's lookin'
'ard and knows what they's lookin' for, can never 'ope to discover who it is they wants to find.'
'Hmm, a good 'iding place o' that nature, cost ya 'eaps,' Marley said speculatively. 'Big reward out, Ikey, 'arf London Town's lookin' for…' grinning he quoted The Times, 'the Jew what's financially undermined England!' Marley shook his head in a melodramatic way. '
'Fraid ya ain't got no friends no more. City police is spreadin' five pounds notes about just for keepin' a sharp eye out. There's a fortune on yer 'ead.' Marley paused and gave Ikey an evil grin. 'Matter o' fact, I could be interested meself!'
Ikey reeled back in horror, his eyes large with fright. 'Don't talk like that, Bob Marley! I taught you everythin' you knows. Was I not your kidsman?' Ikey smiled, his voice somewhat calmer as he remembered. 'You was a good snakesman though, that I'll freely admit. In and out o' the smallest openin's, a natural eye for good stuff too!' Ikey spread his arms and smiled disarmingly. 'Look at you, my dear! Not a copper's dirty great 'and on your shoulder in all these years. Never stood in front o' the bench, never seen the judge's dreaded gavel come down pronouncing a sentence, nor 'as you 'ad the misfortune to look out from the inside o' the bars o' a Newgate cell.'
Ikey paused to emphasise his point, jabbing his forefinger at Bob Marley. 'That don't come natural, my dear! That's trainin', expert trainin', what you got young from a certain someone what is present and is beseechin' you to offer an 'elping hand in 'is hour o' most urgent need!'
Ikey cleared his throat and his tone became unctuous. 'I'm a bit short at the moment, unforeseen expenses and the like, but you knows me credit to be good. Me lovin' wife Hannah will pay you when she comes to see me.'
Marley shook his head. 'Don't know 'bout lovin' wife, Ikey. Yer missus weren't none too pleased findin' out 'bout Mary and yer high-class brothel in Bell Alley an' all!'
'Oh shit, she knows about Mary? 'Ow'd she know about Bell Alley then?'
Marley laughed. 'S'pect she read it in The Times. The 'ole of London's talkin'
'bout you, Ikey. What ya done an' all, inta-nash-nil forgery ring, plots to send the 'ole country broke wif fake English longtails floodin' the European market. Britain's credit in question by the Frenchy parleyment! Austry-'Ungarian empire financially embarrassed and undermined! Yer a right notorious bastard, you is. If ya wasn't in so much shit you'd be the bloomin' toast o' the London criminal class. You is the biggest thing what's 'appened since Queen Caroline's trial!'
Ikey ignored Marley's exaggerated banter. 'Well, you may be sure Mary will pay you, then,' Ikey whined.
'Mary? Mary's in Newgate! She's been in front o' the beak and is awaitin' sentencin' at the Old Bailey. She's Botany Bay bound for sure.' Marley sniffed and looked ominously at Ikey. 'City arrested 'er three days after ya scarpered, charged 'er wif runnin' a bawdy 'ouse, but that were only the excuse.'
'Oh Jesus!' Ikey cried. 'Mary get the boat for runnin' a bawdy house? It ain't possible, runnin' a respectable brothel ain't no crime what merits transportation!'
'That's what folks is sayin' in the Lane. There's talk she'll get the full fourteen years.' Then Marley added darkly, 'On account of you, ya bastard. City ain't convinced she don't know nuffink 'bout that printin' press and what you've been up to wif the deaf and dumb Frenchy.'
Ikey looked up astonished. 'She kept stum? She didn't bleat?' If Mary had turned King's evidence and Ikey were caught there wasn't a judge in England who wouldn't find her information damning.
'She didn't say nuffink to nobody! That's a bloody good nemmo that is.' Marley jabbed a finger into Ikey's scrawny chest. 'Better'n what the likes o' you deserves, Ikey Solomon.'
Marley paused and shook his head. '
'Fraid I can't give ya no credit, Ikey. I can't take no chances.' He shrugged. 'So that's it, it's all a matter o' business, knows what I mean? Pay up and I 'elps you to escape, don't and I marches ya straight to the City constabulary and collects me considerable reward for the heroic hap-prehension of England's number one notorious villain.'
Ikey examined the tops of his mittened hands, shook his head slowly, then looked up at Bob Marley accusingly. 'You got a bet each way, is that it!' In a broken whisper he added, 'Shame on you, Bob Marley!'
Bob Marley shrugged.'
'Fraid so, me old matey. Business is business!' He paused, grinning. 'Now who was it taught me that?'
'Ow much?'
'Twenty sovs down.'
'Twenty sovs!' Ikey wailed. 'That be pure daylight robbery!'
Marley, not bothering to reply, shrugged and held out his hand.
'Fifteen? Fifteen sovs!'
Marley shook his head slowly. 'I'd like to, Ikey, but this ain't no ordinary deadlurk what's needed. I got expenses. Twenty sovs now and ten fer every week what I keeps ya safe in 'iding.'
Ikey made one final attempt. 'Twenty and five!'
'Twenty and ten, take it or leave it. I 'asn't got all night.'
Ikey sighed and, turning his back to Bob Marley, he foraged deep within his great coat and fished into a bag of coins which he knew contained two hundred and seventeen gold sovereigns, the last of the money Silas Browne and Maggie the Colour had paid him in cash for the Bank of England watermarked paper.
Getting back from Birmingham had proved an expensive business. Twice he'd had to pay heavy bribes when he'd been recognised from his picture on posters which seemed to be sprouting like crocuses in April on the walls of every village or town through which he passed on his circuitous route to London.
Ikey slowly counted the twenty sovereigns into the slasher's hand. Marley counted the coins for himself, biting
