Churchyard and Hawke (5 page)

‘You don’t need to make excuses to me, Nick, I’m not I particularly interested right now. I thought you might be able to help me with information about something I am concerned about.’

Relieved, Shelby said, ‘If I can help you in any way, I will, Mr Churchyard, you know that.’

‘Good. Tell me what I want to know and I might even buy you another drink before Molly comes back.’ Leaning closer to his companion, he said softly, ‘There seems to be a lot going on involving Alfie Banks and the sort of villain we’re not used to seeing in Hoxton. What can you tell me about it?’

The light was poor in the smoky tavern, but Tom could have sworn that the small-time thief paled at his question. Looking about him hurriedly, Shelby said, ‘Now that ain’t a fair question, Mr Churchyard - you know it ain’t. If word was to get back to Alfie that I’d even mentioned his name when I was talking to you my life wouldn’t be worth a dud ha’penny.’

‘Word’s not likely to get back to him, Nick . . . certainly not from me, but something is going on . . . something big, and I want to know what it is. You’ve got bigger ears than most around here, what have you heard?’

Looking about him again, and licking his lips nervously, Shelby said, ‘You probably already know as much as I do, Mr Churchyard. There’s something being planned, but Alfie and his mates are tight-lipped about it. All I can say is that it’s not going to happen around here. The wife of one of Banks’s mates was telling my ma that her old man was going to be out of "The Smoke" for a few days but when he comes back she’d be able to pay back the couple of quid she borrowed from ma nigh on a year ago. I believe a couple more of Alfie’s "boys" have said they’re going away for a day or two, as well.’

‘When is this, Nick? When are they going to be out of London?’

‘I believe it’s towards the end of next week . . . but I’m not certain about that.’

Tom nodded his acceptance of the other man’s statement, ‘Fair enough . . . but you’ve mentioned there are a few men involved. I’d like names, Nick - not only of the Banks family, but of those who’ve been coming to Hoxton to talk with Alfie . . . .’

The petty thief was about to protest, but Tom cut his protest short. ‘. . . Before you say you don’t know, you’ll have heard rumours of some of those who’ve been seen around. I want their names.’

‘You’re putting me in a tight spot, Mr Churchyard. I’ve always helped you in the past when you’ve wanted something, you know I have, but this is big time. It’s not only Alfie who’d be looking for me if word got out that I’d been talking to you about ‘em. We’re talking of men who’d top the likes of me as soon as spit.’

Aware that Shelby was really frightened, Tom said, ‘Just give me names, Nick. I’ve got a good memory, so there’s no need to write anything down. Even if I’m recognized in here, as far as anyone is concerned we could be discussing the weather. Once you’ve told me the names of those you know about I’ll buy you a drink, then go off and leave you alone. . . .’

Ten minutes later Tom made his way out of the tavern, leaving behind him a deeply troubled thief. He was aware now that Shelby’s fear was fully justified. Some of the names he had given to him were of well-known criminals. A few were already known to him, others he knew only by the reputation they had made for themselves in the criminal world.

He was well-satisfied with what he had learned, even though he had not been given times or dates for whatever was going on. The diverse ‘talents’ of the criminals named by Shelby indicated that something well out of the ordinary was being planned and if, as seemed highly probable, the gang’s target was to be Cornwall, Superintendent Amos Hawke was facing a major problem.

Tom was still thinking about Amos and what might be about to happen in Cornwall when he heard the sound of hurrying footsteps behind him, coming from a group of men. As they drew closer he stepped into the shallow recess provided by a doorway in order to allow them to pass.

Two men had passed by when those following stopped, apparently aware of his presence in the doorway. When one of them addressed him, saying, ‘Constable Churchyard?’ Tom knew he was in trouble. The mode of address, coming as it did, here in Hoxton, was ominous and he thought he recognized the voice of Alfie Banks, uncle of the young man Amos Hawke had come to London to enquire about.

Thinking quickly, he replied, ‘Not me, mister. It must have been that bloke that almost pushed me over when he ran by just now. ‘

To Tom’s dismay, the man who had spoken to him chuckled, ‘Nice try, Churchyard, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere - and you’ve been using it to ask too many questions about too many people. It doesn’t go down well in Hoxton, you should know that.’

It was dark in the alleyway, but Tom realized there were probably five or six men around the doorway. He could not hope to take them all on . . . but neither could he remain where he was.

Hoping to take them by surprise, he lunged at Alfie Banks and slammed him back hard against one of his companions before leaping from the doorway. His intention was to flee along the alleyway in an attempt to escape from the Hoxton men.

He might have been successful had not one of the men who had accosted him been knocked to his knees when his escape bid was made. Tom tripped over him and, before he could climb to his feet and run a heavy boot caught him on the side of his temple. Temporarily dazed, he fell to the ground and as he struggled to regain his feet he was pummelled, kicked and finally stamped upon as he lay upon the ground, covering his face with his hands.

The attack seemed to last an age, although it could have only been a matter of minutes before the man who had previously spoken to him, said, ‘All right, that’s enough, we don’t want to kill him . . . at least, not this time.’

When the attack ceased, Alfie Banks said to Tom, ‘You’ve been given just a warning this time, Churchyard, take it and be grateful - and don’t come into Hoxton poking your nose into something that don’t concern you. Nothing’s going to happen on your patch, so mind your own business. Ask any more questions and you won’t get off so lightly next time . . . in fact, you probably won’t get off at all. You were born here, so you know why it’s called "Kill Copper Alley". Don’t make us prove a point, it’s not worth it.’

As quickly as they had caught up with him the men had departed as anonymously as they had arrived, leaving Tom to climb painfully to his feet, aware that a wrist, stamped on by one of the booted men was probably broken.

Knowing too that there was no way he could keep his injuries a secret from the police force to which he belonged . . . .

CHAPTER 6

Leaving a startled Talwyn staring after him, Amos reached the front door in time to fling it open just as Tom Churchyard raised his sound arm to make his presence known.

‘Churchyard . . . what’s happened to you?’

‘It’s a long story, sir.’ the young Londoner replied wearily, ‘but I have news for you . . . some good, some bad.’

‘That can wait for a few minutes. Come on inside, you look done-in.’

‘Thank you, sir. I must admit I’ve felt better. . . .’

Talwyn had come into the hallway behind Amos and was looking with some trepidation at the man Amos was inviting into their home.

Aware of her concern, as Amos guided their visitor to the sitting room, he explained, ‘Talwyn, this is the man I have been waiting to hear from, Constable Tom Churchyard of the Metropolitan Police.’

‘Ex-constable, sir.’ Tom corrected him, ‘I was dismissed by Superintendent Dyson yesterday. It was one of his first acts as Superintendent of ‘K’ Division and I think it probably gave him a great deal of pleasure.’

‘You were dismissed. . . ? Why? Tell me what’s been happening . . . have you managed to find out anything about Banks and his fellow ruffians?’

‘It’s all tied in together. . . but may I sit down, sir? I’ve walked all the way from the railway station, after travelling from London.’

‘Of course, you look very weary. . .’ turning to his wife, Amor said, ‘Talwyn, can you ask Katie to fetch Tom a cup of tea?’ Katie was the young village girl who helped out in the house as a maid-of-all-work.

‘Of course, I’ll go and find her.’

Talwyn was away for only a few minutes, by which time Amos had taken the visitor’s coat and sat him down in a comfortable armchair - with a brandy to help revive him after his long journey.

When Talwyn settled herself on another chair, Amos said, ‘First of all, Tom, tell us how you came by your injuries - and why Dyson dismissed you.’

Tom grimaced wryly, ‘It’s all to do with Jimmy Banks and the villains he’s working with. As soon as I began making serious enquiries about them I realized something really big was being planned. They’ve been meeting up secretly and bringing in villains not usually associated with that part of London. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always sent out on the patch which, included Hoxton, so I needed to go there when I was off-duty and that’s when I ran into trouble. . . .’

The arrival of the young maid with a tray on which was tea and portions of cake interrupted Tom’s story and he admitted he had neither eaten nor drunk anything on that hot summer’s day.

Amos allowed the unexpected visitor to eat some cake and did not prompt him to continue his story until a second cup of tea had been poured for him.

Resuming his report, Tom said, ‘As you know, sir, police section houses have a strict rule about anyone not actually on duty being in by ten o’clock, with lights out at twelve. You’ll also know that the type of men we’re interested in don’t keep those hours, so I used to come and go using a back window with a faulty lock and spend some of the night hours in Hoxton, either speaking to a couple of narks I know, or seeing who was meeting up with the Banks family. Unfortunately, word got around that I was asking questions about them. When I was walking along a dark alleyway behind the Britannia theatre I was jumped on by four or five men - one of them Alfie Banks, Jimmy’s uncle - beaten and left half-conscious. Before they went away I was told to keep my nose out of what was none of my business, or next time I wouldn’t get away so lightly - if I got away at all. Luckily, St Leonard’s hospital was just around the corner so I went there. They patched me up but told me I had a fractured wrist. Of course, there was no way I could keep my injuries a secret and I was up before Dyson yesterday. I told him I’d gone out to keep an eye on some criminals I believed were up to no good, but I think he guessed what I was really doing. He said that any information about criminal activities should have been passed on to the detective branch and that I was there to prevent crime, not incite violence by my actions. He fined me two week’s pay for being involved in a fight when I was off duty and dismissed me from the force for rendering myself unfit for duty by my own actions.’

Talwyn had been listening sympathetically as Tom’s story unfolded. Now she said, ‘You poor man! What will you do now . . . and where will you be spending the night?’

Shrugging his shoulders, Tom said, ‘I was hoping you might be able to tell me of somewhere near at hand - but before I go I’d like to tell Superintendent Hawke all I’ve learned about the plans of the Banks brothers and their gang. It’s the reason I’ve come to Cornwall and it’s important - probably very important.’

‘Then you’ll stay here with us, at least until the summer ball is over.’ Talwyn said firmly, ‘but wait while I tell Katie to make one of the spare rooms ready for you before telling Amos what you know. I would like to hear it.’

When Tom appeared surprised that she should intend being present for what was essentially a police matter, Talwyn explained, ‘You know the people who are planning something against Laneglos, Tom, and Amos is going to have to make plans to stop them - but I have lived here for most of my life and know Cornwall a lot better than he does, so I think we might all have something to contribute.’

CHAPTER 7

By the time the housemaid had been given her instructions and Talwyn returned to the room, Amos had poured drinks for them all and Tom began relating what he knew.

‘As you know, even before Harvey wrote to me I’d heard rumours that something big was being planned by Hoxton criminals, involving the Banks family and their pals, but it wasn’t until I began looking into it for you that I realized it was likely to be really out of the ordinary, involving villains who would normally keep well clear of the thuggery associated with the Banks’s.’

Interrupting Tom, Amos asked, ‘Before you go any further, do you have any names of those involved?’

‘Quite a few.’ Tom affirmed, ‘but apart from the Banks themselves I know only one or two by sight. Many of the others have been involved, or suspected of being involved in crimes but they specialise in the sort of villainy a uniform constable rarely gets to deal with, although there’s a chance you will have come across some of them during your time at Scotland Yard. I have a list here of those who have been seen in the Hoxton area recently but it’s by no means complete.’

As he was reaching awkwardly into an inside pocket of his coat, Amos asked, ‘Is there any one Hoxton man in particular these men are going to see?’

Locating two slightly crumpled sheets of paper, Tom pulled them free from the pocket and handed them to Amos, at the same time replying to his question, That’s something of a mystery. I know they are meeting up with the Banks family and Alfie Banks is, loosely speaking, the one the family looks up to as their leader, but as far as I am aware he’s never operated outside London and doesn’t have the brains to organise something as big as this would appear to be.’

While Tom spoke, Amos was glancing through the list of names. Reaching the end of the second page, he looked up; and said, ‘I do know one or two of the villains on the list and I’ve heard of others, but you are quite right, Tom, they are a diverse bunch who should have nothing but dishonesty in common with one another. I notice there are also a couple of women on the list. Have you learned anything about them?’

‘I actually know one of them quite well. We grew up together. She was Dolly Brooks then and I believe she’s distantly related to the Banks family. She had the looks to get her out of the East End and went on the stage. By the time she was twenty she was the mistress of some titled young buck and had changed her name to Adelaide Brokingdale - the name she uses now. She adopted the airs and graces to go with such a name too but eventually her lover’s father became alarmed because his son was becoming too involved with her. He gave him the alternative of going off on the grand tour of Europe - or being disinherited. According to Dolly, her lover wanted to smuggle her out of England and take her with him but she has a very real terror of travelling on the water. It had already come between her and her career when her theatrical company went to America. Anyway, her lover had no option but to go to Europe without her. Dolly set herself up running a high class whorehouse in the posh part of London. Her establishment also became known as a place where women with enough money could obtain a discreet abortion. Unfortunately for Dolly, when the daughter of an otherwise respectable family died as a result, there was such a scandal that she went to prison. It wasn’t long before someone with influence secured her release, but her so-called men