Born to Dance (20 page)

Detective Inspector Phillips, sat at his desk, pored over the report of Wally Cole’s death and scratched his head. His gut feeling was that Foxy Gordon was behind the murder of the local gangster, but how the hell was he going to prove it? He didn’t have any evidence at all to support his theory. Certainly no reason to get a search warrant for his premises. It was beginning to eat away at him.

Phillips avidly studied Foxy’s statement then called his sergeant in. ‘I want you to go to this club that Foxy Gordon used as his alibi and question everyone who Gordon said was there at the time he said he was playing cards, starting with the staff. Hopefully he slipped up somewhere.’

The sergeant looked doubtful. ‘We were thorough the last time, sir, but we came up empty.’

‘Then try again. Maybe you missed something. Take Jill Masters with you.’ Philips had had a sudden idea. The last time the club was under scrutiny it had been done by a male team, but sometimes he found that his women officers looked at things from a different angle, which had many times been fruitful, and Masters had a good eye for detail. Maybe it would bring up something new.

Jokers Wild was a small select club in the City of London, with a license for gambling. It catered for those who took the game of cards seriously. They held bridge tournaments regularly, and there was a hard school of poker with big pots changing hands. It also had blackjack tables. The clientele were from every walk of life – from the aristocracy, the racing world and the wealthy, with more money and time on their hands than most … to some members of the underworld.

Although Foxy Gordon was against any form of gambling for his fighters, he himself loved to play poker, but he always made sure he played with the amount of money he could afford to lose. He would never fall into the trap of getting into debt for the turn of a card. He was far too smart an operator for that. It was his
one relaxation and he had said he was playing poker at Joker’s Wild on the night of Wally Cole’s death.

Jill Masters was a very bright WPC with an ambition to be a detective, which was a very male orientated part of the police force. But she hoped that in time she would be accepted in this particular branch of the force. Detective Inspector Phillips had recognized her abilities, and whenever he could he helped her to establish herself. And now she was off with the others, to the Jokers Wild club.

It was about two o’clock when they arrived. Sergeant Beckett flashed his warrant card and told the manager he wanted to question the staff again.

This was not met with any great enthusiasm. ‘You’ll upset the clientele if they see my staff being grilled by the police.’

Becket looked coldly at him. ‘Then I suggest we use your office, so no one will be aware of us doing our job! Just send the staff in one by one. Starting now!’

Jill Masters left the sergeant to do his work and wandered around the club, familiarizing herself with the layout. There was the main room, with a bar, a couple of roulette tables, two tables for blackjack, and another room where poker was played. At the entrance was a cloakroom for coats and a young pretty girl in attendance. The young police woman spoke to her. ‘Have you been working in the club long?’

The young blonde smiled. ‘Almost a year now.’

‘Do you work the same hours every day?’

‘No, we work shifts. It’s better, really – less boring. The evenings are busier, of course, especially at the weekends.’

‘Were you on duty the night of July the fourteenth?’

‘I was. I remember it well as it was my birthday and I had wanted to change shifts so I could go out with my boyfriend, but the boss wouldn’t let me. Miserable devil!’ She grinned and leaned forward and said softly, ‘I got my own way eventually though.’

Intrigued, Jill asked, ‘Really, how did you do that?’

‘About eight o’clock I pretended to be sick. I rushed off to the ladies and pretended to throw up. I rubbed all the rouge off my cheeks so I’d look pale and I told him I was ill. He had to let me go.’ She gave a triumphant look. ‘My boyfriend took me out to dinner.’

‘Do you know Mr Foxy Gordon?’ Jill asked.

‘Yes, he’s a regular here, loves his game of poker, never plays anything else.’

‘Do you remember if he was here that night?’

‘Yes, he was. I remember because he went into the gents just as I dashed into the ladies. As I came out I saw him leaving by the back door.’

Masters was immediately alert. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive! I was surprised because he seldom leaves the table. I know, because I have to serve the players drinks. I’ve often wondered how he managed to hold his water, if you must know.’ The girl giggled. ‘Mind you, he seldom has more than a beer. He once told me that drink fogs the mind and he wants a clear head when he plays.’

‘Did he come back?’

The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know because I was sent home.’

‘Did you see him outside when you left?’

‘Not really. I did see his car being driven away. As I left it was halfway up the road.’

‘You’re sure it was his?’

‘Oh yes, it’s bright red, you can’t miss it.’

‘You’ve been most helpful. Would you come into the station tomorrow and make a statement so I can write down everything you just told me?’

The girl looked worried. ‘Will my boss find out I put one over on him? Only, I don’t want to lose my job.’

‘No, he needn’t find out, trust me. But tell me, were you questioned about this before by the police?’

‘I was off duty. I know because the other girl told me she’d been questioned when I came in for my shift. But I wasn’t seen by any policeman.’

Jill Masters made her way to the office to tell the sergeant what she had gleaned from her conversation.

‘Well done, but how did we miss this during our previous investigation?’

She explained how the girl had been missed. The sergeant swore beneath his breath.

Whilst this investigation was taking place, Bonny Burton was recovering from yet another operation. Nigel Matthews was pleased with the result, despite the intricacies of the surgery. Fortunately he was a gifted surgeon, who specialized in knee surgery. Now Bonny was wearing a heavy bandage, walking with crutches, and
Nigel Matthews told her not to put any weight on her knee until further notice. In time she would have to see the physiotherapist for treatment and exercise.

Once she was released from hospital, she decided to go home to her parents for a rest. Mickey was busy training and unable to spend much time with her. It was his suggestion that she go home, as he was worried about her being alone, but he did take time out from his training to escort her home on the train.

At the station he helped her into a taxi and they headed for Bonny’s parents’ house.

Millie, her mother, fussed around the two of them, ushering her daughter to an easy chair. She kissed Mickey on the cheek and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. They all chatted for a while until Mickey had to leave.

‘I’ll try and come down at the weekend, darlin’,’ he said as he kissed Bonny goodbye. ‘Now, for God’s sake, be careful! Don’t do anything foolish.’

She assured him she would be careful.

Her mother returned from seeing the boxer off the premises and sat beside Bonny. ‘How are you, love?’

Bonny shrugged. ‘I’m fine, Mum, but goodness knows what I’m going to do when I’m better. I can’t dance any more – and that was my life!’

‘Then you find something else. After all, Bonny, you’re engaged to a lovely man, and when you get married you’ll have plenty to do, looking after him.’

Bonny didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re right, but for me that isn’t enough. I need more. I need an outside interest. I can’t stagnate by being just a housewife.’

Her mother bristled at this remark. ‘Well, I don’t feel I’ve stagnated looking after you and your father!’

‘And you haven’t, but that was your choice. It was enough for you – it isn’t for me.’

‘Then you are going to find the going tough, my girl.’ She went into the kitchen to prepare lunch for the two of them, unable to find any words of comfort for her daughter, but she was concerned for her future and how Bonny was going to manage, being away from the theatre and her usual way of life.

Bonny got to her feet and hobbled over to the window. She wished she could lift this lost feeling. Her world would never be
the same again, and without the capability to dance she didn’t know how she was going to cope. She hadn’t meant to upset her mother, but she was young, with her whole life in front of her, and she needed to be fulfilled! Being married to Mickey would be wonderful, but she needed more. Was she being selfish, she wondered. But no, she knew that to survive, she needed to find some kind of outlet or she couldn’t function.

The following morning she made her way to the Palace Theatre where her career had begun to have a word with Sammy Kendrick, her old boss.

Sammy looked up at the sound of a tap on his door and was more than a little surprised when he saw his visitor. ‘Bonny, my dear! Come in, do. Take a seat. How are you? I heard about your accident, I was sorry, what bad luck!’ He gazed at her crutch and added, ‘I had no idea you were still incapacitated. I thought you were helping Rob, training the chorus.’

‘I was, then I twisted my knee and had to have another operation. My dancing days are over, I’m afraid.’

He was sympathetic. ‘That’s really tough, I am so sorry. Have you any plans?’

She shook her head. ‘At one time I thought I might run a dancing school, but then Rob persuaded me to help him. Now even that idea has gone by the book.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, I can’t teach, can I?’

‘Perhaps not, but you could hire teachers and manage them. They could show the pupils what they want as far as the actual steps, but you could lay out the programme and oversee it.’

‘Do you think it would work?’

‘Why not? Good God girl, you’ve been through the training yourself, you know what’s required, you just need to find the right teachers. Come on, Bonny! You’re the most dedicated dancer I’ve ever had in my chorus. Of course you can do it!’

‘Oh, Sammy! I’m so glad I came to see you; I was beside myself with worry. I knew there had to be an answer somewhere. I never ever considered using other teachers, how stupid of me!’

‘Do you have the necessary funds for this?’

She smiled. ‘Oh yes. I was paid well and I saved my money for a rainy day … Mind you, I didn’t expect it to bloody well pour!’

‘That’s more like the girl I knew. If I can be of any help, anything at all, you just give me a call.’ He helped her to her feet.

Bonny gave him a hug. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

She walked down to the Above Bar, towards the Bargate, a medieval building in the town centre, and into the High Street, feeling that at last she had a purpose and the future was bright. She couldn’t wait to tell Mickey of her plans.

When Mickey came to visit her at the weekend, as promised, he found Bonny in a good mood, and when she told him about her visit to Sammy Kendrick, and his suggestion, the boxer was delighted. ‘That’s great news! Of course you can do it. But you need to find premises first of all, then you can advertise for instructors. You need to think of a name and have cards and letterheads printed. When my fight is over I’ll be free to help you.’ He hugged her. ‘Oh, princess, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I know how much this will mean to you.’

She gazed fondly at him. ‘You understand me so well! How fortunate is that?’

He chuckled. ‘Well, darlin’, I know I’m the love of your life, but so is dancing. I’m not too sure which comes first, to be honest!’

She grinned broadly at him. ‘It does a man good to be uncertain so I’ll not tell you!’

‘You cheeky madam! This calls for a celebration, so let’s go out for a meal and we can talk about it further.’

Bonny was so excited about her plans; she decided to return to her London flat with Mickey to enable her to start her search for premises, whilst he continued with his training. His fight was scheduled for two weeks hence. It was to be against his hardest opponent yet and he knew he would have to be at the top of his game to win, and Bonny wanted to be there to cheer him on.

Foxy Gordon watched Mickey sparring in the ring. He knew his fighter was fit and able, but he also knew that Black Jack Stevens, from Jamaica, was a canny boxer and eager to take the title. The boxer had a lethal right hook, which had laid out many of his previous opponents and he was quick on his feet. The fight was the most popular fixture of the year. All the tickets had been sold and the winning purse was worth a small fortune to the victor.

When the big night arrived, Bonny was sitting in the front row
with Giles Gilmore and Felix the chorus boy. They were all on edge, awaiting the final big bout.

The trumpets sounded and Black Jack Stevens made his way to the ring. Bonny was worried when she saw the powerful build of the man. He was obviously very fit and looked as strong as an ox, and she felt her heart beating wildly with anxiety.

Mickey then appeared among rousing cheers. He waved to the crowd, climbed into the ring, looked at Bonny and, with a wide smile, winked at her. She smiled back and blew him a kiss. She didn’t want him to know she was worried.

During the first two rounds, the two men sounded each other out, exchanging blows and counter blows. According to Giles they were about even in the marking. But as each round continued, the battle really began, both exchanging telling blows, and Bonny had no idea how it would progress. She was sitting on the edge of her seat and wincing with every blow to Mickey’s face and body. She could see the power of the punches as she watched Mickey’s reaction.

During the start of the fifth round, Black Jack seemed to get the upper hand and he put Mickey down on the canvas. Bonny cried out and then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. The last thing that Mickey needed was to see her concern. He got to his feet eventually before the bell. But Bonny jumped up when, in the next round, the tables were turned and Mickey floored his opponent.

She clung on to Giles arm. ‘Is he going to get up?’ she asked, fingers crossed as she waited.

‘I’m afraid so. Look, he’s just waiting and taking a rest, getting his breath back. And on the count of eight, Black Jack rose to his feet, gloved hands up to his face, ready for the next onslaught.

Between each round, the trainers and seconds in each corner were working on their boys. Foxy worked on Mickey’s face as the second rubbed him down. ‘Watch that bastard’s right hand, Mickey. He’s getting ready to try and end the fight. I know, I’ve watched him before. This is the pivotal round for him. Be very careful, keep your gloves up. Protect your chin!’

The next three minutes seemed endless to those watching. Both boxers fought like gladiators, exchanging blows, rocking each other on their feet. Bonny could hardly breathe. Then, just for a second, Black Jack dropped his guard and Mickey, quick to seize his
moment, landed a hefty blow on the point of the other man’s chin. Black Jack staggered, then sank slowly to the canvas.

The hall erupted! People were on their feet yelling, whistling and jumping up and down.

‘Eight, nine … ten!’ The referee counted the man out and sent Mickey back to his corner. The seconds jumped in to the ring, one shoved some smelling salts under Jack’s nose and the boxer got to his feet and walked unsteadily to his corner.

Bonny threw her arms round Giles neck and kissed him. He held on to her in case in her excitement she hurt herself.

‘For goodness’ sake girl, be careful,’ he cried.

The referee stood between both men and the crowd fell silent.

The announcer climbed into the ring and over the microphone made his speech. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the winner, and still the middleweight champion … Mickey O’Halleran, the pride of Ireland.’ The referee held up Mickey’s hand and the crowd cheered.

The two boxers clasped each other for a moment and touched gloves, then Black Jack retired to his corner and Mickey, lifted on the shoulders of Foxy and his second, was walked around the ring.

Mickey waved to the crowd and blew a kiss to Bonny, who was exhausted with the excitement, but she waved back at him, thankful it was all over.

‘I’m not sure I can sit through another fight like that again,’ she confessed to Giles. ‘I felt every blow that Mickey took. I feel like a punchbag!’

He laughed. ‘Not as much as he does I’ll wager. He’ll be very sore in the morning.’

The three of them waited for a while then walked to Mickey’s dressing room. When he saw Bonny, he lifted her off her feet, swung her round and kissed her thoroughly.

She put her hand up to his bruised face. ‘Oh Mickey, I was so worried for you up there.’

He laughed. ‘Once or twice I was worried myself, darlin’, but I knew if I could keep with him, he’d make a mistake, and he did.’ He put her down and with a sigh of relief, said, ‘But I’m glad it’s over. Now we can spend some time together.’ He gazed at her and said softly, ‘I’ve really missed you, princess.’

‘Me too,’ she told him.

‘Wait until I get showered and dressed, then we’ll go and celebrate. Foxy has booked a table for us all. I won’t be long.’

Looking round, Bonny said, ‘Where is Foxy?’

‘I don’t know. He was behind me as we left the ring. Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon. He’s probably talking to some of the fans.’

But Foxy had been waylaid by a couple of the members of Wally Cole’s Firm. They cornered him at the back of the hall and shoved him outside in the dark alleyway behind the venue, where they pinned him against the wall.

‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

‘We like to pay our debts,’ said one.

‘What debts? Don’t tell me you put your money on Black Jack to win?’

‘Oh no, we put our money on your boy with Wally Cole, weeks ago.’

‘Yes, pity he missed the fight, he would have loved it, but there you go, someone took care of him. But at least you can have his share of the winnings.’ And he grinned at them.

They were his last words.

‘Yes,’ said one of the men, ‘you took care of our governor and now we’ve come back to pay his debt.’

Foxy felt something hard pressed into his body, but before he could utter a sound … he was dead!

The man pocketed the gun and they walked down the alleyway and out into the street where they climbed into a waiting car.

Mickey left a message for Foxy to tell him that they had all gone to the restaurant he’d booked and to follow on when he was ready. He ordered champagne whilst they all chose from the menu. It was a really happy gathering. Mickey and Bonny were telling Giles of her plans for a dancing school and he was offering advice and help. It wasn’t until they were eating desert that Mickey was called to the telephone.

It was Bonny who first noticed that something was wrong as Mickey walked back to the table. They were all laughing at a joke Felix had told them, but as Bonny looked up and saw the shocked expression on Mickey’s face, she grabbed hold of Giles by the arm. He stopped talking, looked at her, then followed her gaze, as did the others. Mickey sat down.

‘What on earth is the matter, darling?’ asked Bonny.

‘Foxy is dead! Someone shot him tonight after the fight.’

They all started talking at once.

‘Shot? Where?’

‘Are you sure?

‘Is it true, not a mistake?’

Mickey shook his head. ‘They have just found his body. I can’t believe it. Who would do such a thing?’ But as he pondered on this, he also remembered how he suspected that his trainer might have been involved with the death of Wally Cole. If his suspicions were correct, then Foxy had paid the ultimate price.