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Authors: James Benmore

Dodger (44 page)

BOOK: Dodger
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‘'Appy morning to ya, guvnor and milady, gawd help me so it is, I do say.'

This, I realised after a confused second, was the horrible sound of Timothy Pin pretending to be a local. John Froggat, the man what had stolen my love, grunted a reply and the betrothed couple passed by without stopping.

‘An attractive girl,' said Pin, once they was out of earshot. I stepped back on to the street and watched the pair walk away from us. ‘The face of a heartbreaker.'

Ruby giggled again at something Froggat was murmuring and I felt the fury rise up within me. I would have done anything for her, I thought in shame. I would have given up thievery, had she
so willed it. I had even broken a criminal code and kicked another thief into the arms of the law just so that she and I could be together, and she had repaid me by linking arms with another. I had been made a fool of and I hated her for it.

‘If you want, Mr Pin,' I said, ‘I'm happy to break in there now –' I pointed over to Fagin's old home – ‘and just take the rotten jewel.'

*

Ten minutes later I had gained entry to the empty house what stood next to the one I wished to burgle. Timothy Pin continued to wait outside and keep watch for the return of Ruby, John or the mother, but he had given me his small set of skeleton keys. These, he reckoned, could open any Bramah, Chubb or other lock and he said he had used such a key to gain entry into my lodgings. As he had boasted, one of them had opened the door of this unoccupied house and I moved through darkness and cobwebs to get to the top. The windows of the place was all boarded up and I could hear rats scurrying around as I felt my way up the stairs to the top floor and looked for a way into the attic. This house was almost identical to the one what I had grown up in and so I was able to find my way about even with so little light. Once in the attic I looked for the small window what led on to the roof, forced it open and poked my head through. I looked around to assure myself that there was no way I could be spotted and then pulled myself out and on to the roof.

I knew from experience that I could move along the guttering to get to the roof of Fagin's house, as I had been taught how to do this in the other direction by the old man himself should there ever be a police raid. I also knew that his roof had a hidden entrance underneath some loose tiling for the very same purpose, and it was not long before I had uncovered it and lowered myself through.
I dropped into the attic, where I had slept just weeks ago on my first night back in London, and crept all soundless towards the trapdoor what led below. This hatch was tough to prise up with my fingers and I was concerned that Uncle Huffam, whose painful fiddling I could now hear coming up from below, would hear me. But he continued to play as I released the door and then lowered myself into the natural light of the landing. As my feet touched the worn-out rug underneath I heard a loud screech what made me jump within my skin. That black cat what now lived here jumped out from a corner, ran past me and raced down the stairs towards where Huffam was playing.

‘What is it, Boney?' I heard Huffam say as his fiddling stopped and the cat ran into the door of the kitchen. ‘Big rats again, old boy?' I stood frozen upon the landing while I waited to hear if Huffam would come to investigate but after a short silence he resumed his music and I could carry on moving towards one of the doors on this top floor, knowing from memory which of the floorboards beneath me would squeak, and avoiding them. I tried the handle of the door, it opened with little noise and I stepped through.

The air seemed thick with honest labour as I entered this room; there was a wooden workbench with saw-marks all over it and many metal items in these boxes all around. I knew Ruby's doll would not be in here and I picked up one of the saws and stepped out again. I recalled from my last visit that the door opposite led to John Froggat's bedroom and I had the depressing thought that perhaps Ruby was already keeping some things in there. Perhaps his room was already hers, regardless of his Christianity. This room was also unlocked and one glance around his stark bedroom told me, to my undoubted relief, that there was no feminine presence in here either. I looked about me, at the religious tracts what
rested on the bedside table and to the pencil sketchings of boxing fights what he had pinned to his walls, and I wished I could set fire to the place. I hated this man and was glad to leave and shut the door on his chamber unsearched.

Ruby must be staying in the vacant room below this, I reasoned, the one what Froggat had told me his late brother had lived in and that years earlier I had shared with Charley, Jem and Mouse after we had all grown too big for the attic. This room was behind the kitchen where Huffam was still playing his fiddle and, as I reached the bottom of the stairs without being heard, I could see him through a crack in the door. He was sat in his rocking chair facing away from the door and lost in his art. I tiptoed past the door, with the saw in hand and watched only by the cat. I reached the room, turned the handle and found it locked. So I pulled out the bunch of skeleton keys what Pin had given me and tried each one. The last key unlocked the door and I pushed it open as quiet as I could.

The room was Ruby's – there was no doubt of this from the very first second I entered it. It smelt of the expensive perfume that she had worn when she had embraced me that morning in Smithfield Market. I felt a tremendous sadness come over me as I recalled how happy she had been to see me then and I soon found myself sitting on her bed. Since that time I had often imagined walking into her bedroom and now here I was at last, but as a common thief and not her lover. My eyes cast about the room, which was the lightest in the place on account of her fine white curtains, and I recognised some of the clothes, jewellery and linen what she had had in Bethnal Green. From the kitchen Huffam continued scraping on his fiddle but it seemed as though he could sense the sad mood of the house and he had moved on to a very mournful ballad. If I had not been there on a criminal errand I would have banged on the wall and told him to knock it off.

Through the crack in the door I noticed I was being watched. Boney the cat padded in and cocked his head at me and I felt, in my self pity, that he was perhaps feeling some sorrow for me also. I patted the bed for him to come over but instead he jumped up on to a small chair, then on to the dressing table and moved along it before climbing up to a taller chest of drawers. He passed a number of her things as he did so, brushes, hand-mirrors, boxes of jewellery. It was only after he had passed by a smiling wooden doll, what was almost identical to the ones what Charley and myself had been given, that I snapped out of my gloom and recalled what I was doing there.

Up in a blink, I crossed over to the toy, picked it up and held it close to my ear. With one deliberate rattle I heard that there was something inside what sounded heavier than the pebbles contained in the other two. In that glorious second all my melancholy lifted like the fog and I was desperate to crack it open and see if the hunt for the Jakkapoor stone was now over. I had made the mistake before of leaving this house without knowing for certain if the jewel was recovered and I was not going to do that this time. And so, with the sound of Huffam's fiddle covering the strokes I held it down with one hand over the edge of Ruby's table and began sawing with the other. I should take it up to John Froggat's workbench, what was already so covered in saw marks that one more would not be detected and cut it open there, I thought. But I was far too eager to know.

And what, I asked myself as I worked upon it, would I do if I should open this doll up to find no jewel inside? Where would I hide if I found another pebble? I would not be returning to Timothy Pin, he would be sure to kill me. Instead I would have to escape over the rooftops and leave London forever. Perhaps even leave the country.

Then, as the teeth of the saw travelled through the prince's chest, I asked myself an even more important question. What would I do if I did find the jewel inside? Should I hand such a priceless treasure over to a man like Lord Evershed and then go about my business? Neither Warrigal nor Pin was with me now – there was nothing to stop me from fleeing the country anyway, but with this prize to sell. The girl I loved thought nothing of me and I had few friends what was not either dead or living in Northamptonshire. There was no reason I could think of for me to go back to Pin anyway.

And then, just as I was coming to the point where I could snap the doll with my bare hands, I remembered that there was a reason. I heard the word in Warrigal's voice.
Consequences
, he had said. If Evershed does not get the jewel then his people on Honey Ant Hill could suffer. Timothy Pin had even reminded him of that yesterday. If I was to flee now, then this threat against Warrigal's loved ones would always rest heavy upon me. And I had promised him we was friends.

During a pause in the music I swept up the sawdust and placed it into my pocket. If possible I did not want Ruby to know straight away that she had been robbed. I hoped that it was only when she went to look for her doll that she would notice the loss.

And then the music continued and there was no more putting it off. I held the doll with both hands, cracked it open with one swift motion and tipped the contents into my hand. A black jewel, heavy and shining, fell out of the wooden prince and lay in my palm. The black heart of Jakkapoor. It was beautiful.

I closed it into my fist, raised it to my lips and kissed it. In my long trade as a pickpocket I had held many jewels and other treasures but none had moved me as much as this one. I could see now
why Evershed had wanted it so much when he saw it there in the temple of Seringapatam some forty-odd years before and why his pursuit had been so hot ever since losing it. What he had said about the stone was true. It called to you.

I wasted no more time. I put the jewel in my coat pocket and made to leave the room and lock it after me. This was made harder by Boney's refusal to exit with me and I spent three silent minutes trying to convince the belligerent cat that it should follow me out into the hall. At last he ran through my feet and went up the stairs before me and I turned the key all soft and made my way towards the staircase.

I came to the kitchen door and just as I stepped past it there was a sharp screech along the fiddle and Huffam stopped playing. I froze and looked towards the old blind man, who lifted his head up from his instrument and addressed the wall in front of him.

‘So you're back, are you?' he said in a mean, thin voice. ‘Back to visit your old home. I knew you would be.'

I did not move an inch and just stood there not wanting to even be heard breathing.

‘You're a wicked one. I heard you shuffling about in that girl's chamber. Leave her in peace, why can't you?'

He shook his head in disgust and began waving his bow stick at where he seemed to think I was standing. I made to step away and he spoke again.

‘She speaks fondly of you, would you believe? She's the only one who does.'

This made me stop dead. I was amazed that Ruby had mentioned me to Uncle Huffam. I wanted to hear more.

‘My nephew John tries to set her straight, he tells her how wicked you are, but she will not listen to him. She says you're not all bad. She loves you, she tells us!'

I felt my heart becoming light again and I wanted to ask him why then, if she loved me so much, had she shunned me.

‘You treated her kindly, she says. Her and a great many others. She's sorry you were choked.'

My hands went up to my neck as he said that, to the marks where Warrigal had tried to garrotte me.

‘But you're a damned soul, aren't you, old man? Damned to haunt this place forever.'

My heart sank as I fell upon what the old fool was saying. He thought I was Fagin's ghost.

‘You'll be back here,' he called after me as I turned from him and ran up the stairs. ‘You're cursed to walk this space forever whether you care to or not!' I reached the top landing but could still hear him as I hauled myself back into the attic.

‘
You'll be forever coming back!
'

*

Timothy Pin was still loitering by the vegetable cart and I approached him from behind. I had not exited the way I had come in as I had been so startled by the old man's ravings that I had just fled the building and climbed over four different rooftops before shimmying down a gutter. I tapped Pin on the back and he jumped around with his hand inside his coat pocket resting on that unseen pistol.

‘I was about to come looking for you,' he spat in agitation. ‘I thought you had been fool enough to take flight.'

‘I wouldn't do that, Mr Pin,' I told him as we both disappeared from the view of the house and headed back up the alley. ‘I know there would be consequences if I did.'

‘Do you have the stone, Mr Dawkins?' Pin pressed me as soon as we was clear out of anyone's sight. He stopped walking and grabbed my coat collar with his free hand. ‘We have nothing further to discuss if you do not.'

‘I don't know,' I shrugged as I reached into my own pocket and pulled out the black heart of Jakkapoor. ‘It look anything like this?'

I held the stone up to his face and saw his expression change from panic to wonder. He took it with his own hands and viewed it from all angles.

‘It must be,' he said holding it with reverential care. There was real awe in his voice. ‘Surely this can be nothing else. Was it where you said it would be?'

‘In the doll, yeah,' I nodded.

‘We had best hurry away before she notices the loss. When do you think the girl will be back?'

‘She works at Smithfield Market by day,' I told him. ‘That's where she was headed just now I'd wager. Then she goes from there to sell sandwiches in the music hall in the evening. So she won't come back here until gone midnight.' Pin placed the jewel into his left pocket and I moved away as he did so. ‘Well, there you have it and my job here is done,' I said, doffing my hat to him. ‘Thank Lord Evershed for the pardon when you see him, but I might as well be on my way.' I made to leave but Pin grabbed me once more.

BOOK: Dodger
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