Shadows of Deceit (6 page)

“You can open your eyes now.”

She said as she stood up and slowly removed her clothes by dropping them on top of his on the floor. The light from the hallway was behind her so Harry could only see her in silhouette. When finally undressed she moved across and slowly sank onto the bed next to Harry who was now bursting to move, to touch her, to embrace. Her fingers touched him gently, stroking, teasing him still further until he couldn’t lie still any more. He pulled her across and down onto him and they slowly moved together until the irresistible urge to climax overwhelmed them. They remained still for a few minutes before Harry pulled the eiderdown over them and they lay quietly together like spoons in a drawer and slept undisturbed throughout the night.

In the morning Harry quickly dressed before kissing Eileen goodbye.

“I’ve got to leave, my new job starts today. I’ll call into the Royal Stuart in a day or so, once I know what the routine at work is. I also want to show you my new digs.”

She held his arm and kissed him again.

“I’ll look forward to that.”

Eileen moved over to where he had slept. She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep feeling safe in his warmth and aroma that still lingered there.

Harry rushed up the stairs to Andrew’s flat. It was still only 7a.m. so he would have time for breakfast and to
wash and change before sitting down with him to discuss more of his duties. Harry walked to the bathroom and found the door locked, which was odd.

“Andrew are you in there?”

Andrew answered from the bedroom,

“No, sorry Harry I’ve a friend staying; he’ll be out in a minute.”

The bathroom door opened and a tall, slim younger man carrying a towel in front of him sheepishly manoeuvred himself around Harry and back into Andrew’s bedroom. They made eye contact but no words were exchanged. Whilst Harry was in the bathroom he heard Andrew saying goodbye to his companion.

“I’m sorry Andrew, I had no idea he was here,” Harry shouted.

“It’s OK -
just a bit of a shock for him more than you I guess. He called in last evening and stayed on.”

Andrew went through to the kitchen and prepared some breakfast for the two of them.

About half an hour later, after Harry had showered and dressed the two were able to sit down and discuss his new responsibilities.

“Listen Harry, until you are invited into the ‘shadow’ operations these will be your cover duties.”

Harry sat forward to listen,

“This is the ledger that has details of all the tenants together with the weekly rental they are to pay to you in cash, no cheques, no barter, you understand?”

“Perfectly.”

Harry took the black leather bound book and examined some of the pages.

“There’s a sketch map inside the back cover that will help you find your way about. It should take you a couple of days to get round the lot. The important thing is to collect everything, some tenants will try to delay, and some of the others won’t answer the door initially. You’ve to be persistent; they all know that if they don’t pay then they’ll be evicted. Bring the cash back here and don’t discuss anything with anyone, is that clear?”

“Yes boss.”

Harry smiled across, but Andrew still looked stern.

“I mean it, it’s important Harry, I need to trust you, to look after my business.”

“I do understand, I won’t let you down.”

“Do the collections first, and when they are all in I’ll get you involved with the rest of your duties.”

“Do we issue receipts to the tenants?”

“No, not normally, just get them to initial the book alongside the cash amount you write in.”

Later that morning Harry set out with the book and started gathering the rents. The properties were mainly run down, poor quality dwellings that in pre-war conditions would have been condemned. But because of the housing shortage their usable life had been extended.

In the afternoon he returned to the flat with the cash. Andrew was already sitting at his desk and took delight in examining the book in detail and counting the cash.

“For your first outing you’ve done rather well Harry, the rest you can collect later in the week after you’ve moved into your place.”

Andrew continued checking the money and balanced the entries in the ledger.

“You look like bloody Fagin.” Harry said smiling.

Andrew ignored the suggestion and continued his sums. After a further ten minutes Harry became bored of scanning the newspapers and he yawned loudly.

“Late night was it?”

Andrew proffered and then continued.

“Here, go and move into Argyle Street, you don’t need to stay here and watch me.” He slid the key across the desk.

This was the excuse Harry needed,

“Great I will, if you’re sure.”

“Get on your way. I’ll see you in a few days. Don’t upset the neighbours!”

Harry didn’t hear the last remark; he’d collected his mac and was already descending the stairs.

The following day Harry moved into the small furnished house. The properties were the typical two up, two down terraces that were constructed just after the end of the Great War. His house
had electric light downstairs and gas mantels in the two bedrooms above. A lean-to scullery and toilet had been added on to the ground floor kitchen. He quickly emptied the half-filled suitcase that contained the only possessions he had. Fortunately Eileen had supplied him with bed linen and towels so at least he could settle in for the night.

At about two in the morning he was awoken by noise coming from the house next door. It appeared to be a passionate row erupting between the wife and her husband who had just returned home from a night on the town. The shouting provoked a dog to start barking from one of the back gardens adjoining his property. Harry stood up and opened the window overlooking the street. He noticed a few of the neighbours opposite were also staring out of their windows trying to see what was happening. Suddenly the argument burst out from next door and into the street. It turned out that it was the son of the couple next door who had returned home late in a drunken state and was obviously not welcome.

“You’ve been missing for months and you expect us to take you in again?” the mother shouted,

“This is the third and last time you come back here!”

The father joined in stuttering with rage,

“You…you sh..shit, you emptied my wallet before you left last time, now Pi..Piss off!”

The youth staggered into the road, too drunk to respond. His mother continued with her barrage,

“Go and get your man ‘Irish Duffy’, or whatever his name is, to find you a bed. He’s got more money than us. You’re not living under our roof again.”

The father stepped out to the kerb,

“We’re fighting a fucking wa...wa…war over here against
that
type. Away with you now!”

Another neighbour from the same side of the street appeared in her dressing gown,

“That’s right Bill, you tell the sod. Your son’s done nothing good around here since he left the Boys’ Brigade.” Feeling fearless now with all the support around her she turned her anger directly to the youth,

“Fuck off or join the army you wanker!”

Another woman appeared from the opposite side of the street and escorted the youth into her home for the night. The drunk’s mother reacted immediately,

“That’s right go and stay with the grey old bag opposite again, any port in a storm for you.”

“Specially if you like be..beached w..whales!” his Father added.

The youth turned and attempted to argue back but his profusion of words were disarranged and incoherent. However, he did expertly accomplish a ‘V’ sign directed at his parents before tripping on the opposite pavement. The ‘whale’ just managed to save his fall before guiding him into her refuge for the remainder of the night. Soon peace had again returned to Argyle Street.

‘What a place.’

Harry thought as he climbed into bed again,

‘Street entertainers on every corner!’

A few days later he set out from his own house to complete the week’s collection and returned to hand everything over to Andrew as arranged.

As previously Andrew busied himself counting cash and checking the books whilst Harry quietly read the newspapers.

“Do you want some more tea?”

“No, I’m busy thanks. I’m OK,” said Andrew.

Harry made some for himself and returned, Andrew was still engrossed with his bookkeeping. Harry examined Andrew’s gramophone record collection before returning to the newspapers. He was becoming restless, wanting to know more about the ‘shadow’ operations.

“Why is it I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything?

I’m a big boy now, you can confide in me. I just need to know what I’m likely to get involved with.”

“I’ve not the faintest idea what you mean.” Andrew said indignantly,

“You’ve been out, collected the cash and brought it back. That’s all you had to do today.”

“Nuff said Andrew. You can fill me in with more details another time, when you’ve a feeling to trust me a bit more perhaps.”

“Harry there is more, but as I said I need to get Dermot to see you. Once on board then all will be revealed – I’ve said that to you before as well!”

“Yes I know. I’m grateful for what you’ve done but I don’t just want to be a rent collector.”

“I know, just be patient.”

Harry knew that there was no point in pursuing this with him. Andrew was waiting for Dermot to give the nod. He decided not to raise any further questions that day. His curiosity could be re-ignited tomorrow.

Later that evening Harry went across to see if Eileen was working at the Royal Stuart.

“I’ve got an extra shift to do I’m afraid so I won’t be finished until eleven. How’s your house by the way?”

“It’s in a charming neighbourhood, but I just need a woman’s touch to sort out the place – when’re you coming over?”

“Could be later tonight, once I’ve finished here”

“By the way, have you ever heard of ‘Irish Duffy?’

“No can’t say that I have, why?”

“I heard some of my neighbours mention him but no matter.”

“Listen Harry, I’ve an idea. Instead of you sitting here and waiting for me why don’t you go over to the Dugout.
I’ll speak to Wemyss on reception. He’ll remember you and let you in.”

“The bouncer is Wemyss?”

“Yes, the ‘Steward’ is Wemyss; he’s the biggest shareholder of the club. There will be some other people there that I know who may be able to entertain you until I’m free later.”

“Sounds as though it’s all arranged, who are these people?”

“They’re just customers that I knew from here who have moved across to the ‘Dugout’. Wemyss told me they would be in tonight so he’ll introduce you. Tommy and Steve are their names.”

“And their business?”

“The motor trade and a bit of this and that, if you know what I mean. They’re always looking for people to work with them.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“You’ve nothing to lose Harry.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go and find out what they’re up to. But you’ll follow over later?”

“Yes as I said, sorry Harry I’m needed.”

Eileen had to break away to serve other customers.

Wemyss the ‘bouncer’ in his dinner suit was sitting at the desk as Harry approached.

“I came here the other evening if you remember, with Eileen?”

The man examined the visitor’s book meticulously.

“Yes, I see. You’re going in alone tonight?”

“For the time being if that’s OK, Eileen will call in later?”

“Yes, she said you might be in, sign here please.”

“Are you busy?”

“No, not really, it’s a bit early perhaps. There’s a group of people in, some that Eileen know, she said to introduce you if you want me to.”

“Perhaps later, I’ll have a quiet drink first.”

“As you wish.”

Harry signed and went into the lounge and ordered a whisky. Wemyss watched him all the way through.

The bar area was empty but across the room, at the lower level, several tables had been pushed together and a party of about ten people were drinking heavily and laughing and joking loudly. Harry sat on a stool with his back to the bar. When he had finished his drink he turned to the barman,

“They’re packing a few away. How long have they been in?”

“All afternoon.
I think they’re going on somewhere for a meal.”

“Do you know them?”

“A few I know, the man facing us in his fifties, that’s Steven Beecham and the larger older fellow next to him is Dermot Cassidy and one down again is Tommy Bunn. The rest I don’t know, a few of the women are just local hangers-on.

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry asked.

The barman, who was rarely given such an option, readily agreed,