Tiger Ragtime (17 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ Aled commiserated.

‘Marriage doesn’t always work out.’

‘Someone told me that you have applied to have your marriage annulled.’ He spooned sugar into his coffee.

‘You are well informed.’

‘Perhaps we could have dinner one evening.’

‘I don’t think so, Mr James.’ Edyth nudged Micah’s ankle beneath the cover of the table. ‘I keep very early hours as I have to be up every morning at four to open the bakery.’

‘Surely not on Sundays, which leaves Saturday night?’

‘On Sundays I am up even earlier to update my account books,’ she lied.

Micah looked ostentatiously at his watch. ‘I think it’s time I walked you and Judy home, Edyth.’

Aled reached for his cigar case and offered it around the table. ‘Allow me to send for taxis for all of you, Micah.’

‘Please, don’t disturb yourself, Aled.’ Micah rose from his chair. ‘It’s only a ten-minute walk from here to Goldman’s.’

‘We must be off too, Mr James.’ Judy’s uncles and Moody pushed their chairs back and rose to their feet. ‘We have to be up even earlier than Edyth,’ Tony said. ‘Mr Powell wants us to finish the conversion of the Sea Breeze in record time and what Mr Powell wants, Mr Powell gets.’

‘For the sake of my club I’m glad to hear it.’ Aled watched Micah crumple his napkin and drop it on his plate. ‘I’ll walk you to the door.’

Edyth allowed the attendant to drape her stole on her shoulders. She offered Aled her hand. He lifted it and kissed her knuckles.

‘Thank you for a lovely dinner and a lovely evening, Mr James,’ she said with more politeness than warmth.

‘The first of many we’ll enjoy together I hope, Mrs Slater. I trust that you,’ he looked at the others, ‘all of you, will come to the grand opening of the club and often afterwards to hear Miss King sing.’

‘We certainly will,’ Jed answered. ‘Our niece is very precious to us. Thank you for the dinner, Mr James.’

Aled smiled graciously as the others gave him their thanks, then taking Judy’s stole from the cloakroom attendant, he draped it around her shoulders. ‘You’ll let me know your answer when you’ve had time to consider my proposition?’

‘I don’t need time, Mr James; I would like to accept it.’

‘Subject to contract,’ Micah qualified cautiously.

‘That goes without saying, Micah. I trust this is the beginning of a very profitable relationship for both of us, Miss King. We must do this again and very soon so we can toast our future – together.’

Edyth watched Aled lift Judy’s hand to his lips and kiss it. Despite the warmth in the air, she shivered. Aled James had been kind and generous to all of them and exceptionally so to Judy. She was being ridiculous. After all, what did she have to base her dislike of him on, except a peculiar likeness to Harry – and a more abrupt and business-like personality?

‘Goodnight, Mrs Slater.’

‘Goodnight, Mr James.’ Edyth took Micah’s arm and walked away.

Chapter Nine

Aled returned to the dining room to tip and thank the head waiter. He was heading for his suite when Stan Peterson waylaid him.

‘There’s someone sitting at our table that you should meet.’

‘It’s a bit late in the day to do business, Stan,’ Aled said.

Stan lowered his voice. ‘He’s a major wheeler-dealer on the Bay. His family own the largest shipping company. They’re into all sorts, and,’ Stan reduced his voice to a whisper, ‘he’s been asking questions about you, your employees, and the old Sea Breeze.’

‘His name?’ Aled enquired shortly.

‘Charlie Moore.’

‘Of Moore’s shipping agency.’

‘You know him?’

‘I’ve heard of the agency.’ Aled recalled the long, cold hours he’d stood day after winter day on Penniless Point, along with all the other unemployed men and boys who were desperate for work, waiting for a Moore’s representative to turn up.

‘We’re at the coffee and brandy stage. Would you like to join us? As our guest,’ Stan added, hoping that Aled wouldn’t discover that the ‘our’ was Charlie Moore. Charlie and his cronies frequently bankrolled Stan’s firstnight dinners for the cast, in return for theatre tickets, invitations to theatrical parties and introductions to the chorus girls.

Deciding he couldn’t afford to ignore ‘a major wheeler-dealer’ on the Bay, Aled followed Stan back to his table. Stan relinquished his chair so Aled could sit next to Charlie.

‘Mr Charles Moore, Mr Aled James.’ Stan effected the introduction and its significance wasn’t lost on Aled. He set no store by etiquette but he knew the likes of Charlie Moore did. The fact that Stan had said Charlie’s name first put Charlie on a socially superior level. Stan went to the end of the table and sat next to Jeremy Dupois, whose mood hadn’t improved with the advent of brandy and cigars.

‘Mr James, or may I call you Aled? Everyone calls me Charlie.’ Slightly the worse for drink, Charlie rose to his feet and offered Aled his hand.

‘You may, Charlie.’ Aled shook Charlie’s hand and took Stan’s chair.

‘You’re setting up business on the Bay?’ Charlie spoke slowly and deliberately, in the manner of the habitual drunk.

‘I am. But no doubt Stan Peterson has told you that.’

‘Good man, Stan. Have a brandy.’

Aled watched the waiter fill Charlie’s brandy balloon but he signalled the waiter to put no more than a splash into his. ‘The shipping business is slow at the moment, or so they tell me. Has it affected Moore’s?’

‘I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t.’ Charlie laughed as one of the chorus girls leaned across the table to talk to Lennie. Her low-cut dress fell, exposing her nipples. ‘What an eyeful, eh, Aled,’ he chortled.

‘You’re not worried?’ Aled asked.

‘She’s not mine so she can stand on the table, strip off, and do the Hula-Hula naked for all I care.’

‘I was talking about your family’s business.’

‘Oh that,’ Charlie said carelessly. ‘I’ve diverted some of the family’s funds into other things. Can’t afford to lose income at a time like this, old boy. Need to keep up appearances and there’s nothing like a good time – eh?’ Charlie dug his elbow into Aled’s ribs.

‘There isn’t.’ Aled decided that of all the ‘crache’ expressions, ‘old boy’ was by far the worst.

The chorus girl leaned back and adjusted her bodice. Disappointed, Charlie turned back to Aled. ‘Stan says you’re turning the Sea Breeze into a nightclub.’

‘Given that Moore’s offices are only up the road, you probably inspected the plans at the council offices.’

‘I did.’ Charlie narrowed his eyes and pursed his mouth. ‘I also heard that you’ve bought gambling, drinks and entertainment licences by wining, dining, and entertaining members of the various council committees – with Anna Hughes’s assistance.’

‘I have the licences but I resent your implication as to how I got them.’

‘We’re both men of the world. Let’s not pretend that we don’t know how it works. And just so we’re not at cross purposes, I have a business proposition for you.’

‘What kind?’ Aled asked warily.

‘You’ll need insurance.’

‘Against what?’

‘The people of Tiger Bay. They’re a rough lot, and they’re not like us.’

‘“Us” being?’ Aled enquired.

‘Hard-working businessmen. Everywhere you look on Tiger Bay you see Negroes, Lascars, Somalis, Chinese … not to mention all the half-castes. They’ll take one look at your club and want a piece of it for themselves.’

‘I doubt it. I’m aiming more up-market than the common seaman can afford.’

‘All the more reason for them to be jealous. And they’re capable of anything,’ Charlie warned. ‘Attacking your customers inside and outside the club, arson – even murder.’

‘And I thought you were a businessman,’ Aled mocked. ‘No businessman worth his salt would sink so low as to use the old Mafia protection racket.’

‘It’s insurance …’

‘What’s the going rate for a thug on the Bay? Five pounds a week. Ten?’

Charlie flushed angrily. ‘I’m offering you a good service.’

‘I don’t need it.’ Aled looked pointedly at Aiden and Freddie. As usual, they weren’t far away. They’d dined at an unobtrusive corner table close to the kitchen door. The moment they saw him looking at them, they dumped their napkins on their plates and left their seats. Aled shook his head and they sat back down again. ‘Those two are all the insurance I need, Charlie.’

‘They’re not local. They don’t know who’s who around Tiger Bay.’

‘They’re quick learners. They proved that when they worked for me in New York. Where do you think I made the money to open my club?’

‘You’ll need operating capital. I can let you have preferential rates.’

‘I’m sure you can, but I’ve all the money I need.’

‘Only a fool sets up a high-risk business like a nightclub with his own money,’ Charlie declared.

‘Then I’m a fool,’ Aled agreed evenly.

‘You’re running poker tables, roulette, blackjack – what happens if a gambler breaks the bank?’

‘I pay him. Word soon gets out if a casino reneges on debts. On the other hand, if he’s cheating, I’ll call the police. Fraud is still a crime in this country, isn’t it?’ Aled enquired conversationally.

‘How much money do you have?’ Charlie demanded bluntly.

‘Enough.’

‘First friendly warning: steer clear of the turf if you value your health.’

‘Thank you for the brandy, Charlie.’ Aled opened his cigar case, offered it around to the men and women at the table and Charlie last of all.

‘I’m serious,’ Charlie emphasised.

‘I never doubted you were. Anything else I should steer clear of?’ Aled struck his lighter and lit his own cigar.

‘There’s no reason why we shouldn’t get along,’ Charlie blustered in a friendlier tone. ‘My family have had an office on the Bay since 1840.’

‘Things have changed since then.’

‘Not that much,’ Charlie snarled, ‘and we don’t need Yanks coming in to change them.’

‘That’s where you’ve made your first mistake, Charlie. I’m not a Yank. I’m as Welsh as you are and I’ve lived on the Bay before.’

‘When?’

‘A few years ago.’

‘It couldn’t have been for long, or I’d remember you.’

‘It was long enough for me to remember you, Charlie.’ Aled left the table and beckoned to Freddie and Aiden.

They crossed the dining room and joined him.

‘I’ll be seeing you, Aled.’ Charlie looked Aled squarely in the eye.

‘I don’t doubt it, Charlie.’ Aled took the hat Freddie handed him. ‘You picked up the car earlier, Freddie?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Get it, we’re going for a drive.’

*   *   *

‘You don’t want to tangle with Charlie Moore, Aled; he’s a nasty piece of work.’ Anna Hughes reached for the brandy and soda siphon at her elbow and topped up Aled’s glass and her own. They were sitting companionably side by side on the large sofa that faced the cold hearth in the front parlour of her house.

‘The man is thick as two short planks,’ Aled said, reverting to one of his childhood expressions.

‘Or, to be crude, thick as dog shit and twice as nasty, as the saying goes, but he has henchmen who are even thicker and they outdo one another to get a pat on the head from him.’

‘How rich is he?’

‘His family have enough money to pave their lavatories with gold, or so people say. But his grandfather died last month and from what I’ve heard, neither Charlie nor his father has the sense to hang on to what the old man made.’

‘And the bottom is falling out of the shipping trade, so the Moores won’t be making a new fortune.’ Aled sipped his brandy thoughtfully.

‘Charlie has extravagant tastes. A couple of months ago he started “insuring” local businesses.’

‘Yours?’ Aled asked astutely.

‘He takes one of the girls whenever he wants to. He used to pay but,’ she shrugged her shoulders, ‘he hasn’t for the last six months. I made it clear that the concession only applies to him, not his henchmen and I pay the girl – usually Gertie, as it happens – a couple of bob whenever he comes. It’s only fair that the house bear the expense.’

‘You’re a fool, once that sort of thing starts –’

‘A Tunisian who owned one of the cafes on Bute Street and the opium den above it refused to pay Charlie’s insurance,’ she interrupted. ‘The next day the police raided it. There’d been a tip-off that he was serving meths in teacups. That resulted in an article in the
Western Mail
, along the usual lines of Tiger Bay – full of dens of iniquity, loose diseased women, drunks, thieves, robbers, drug addicts, criminal half-caste children.’

‘I remember reading similar articles around chip wrappings fifteen years ago. The powers-that-be’s attitude to Tiger Bay hasn’t changed since I was a kid. But I gathered that much when I talked to the city councillors.’

‘The reporter argued that a relaxation of the licensing laws in the regulated pubs was needed to combat the problem, although the police raid hadn’t come up with a single scrap of evidence that the man was serving anything other than tea and coffee – in the I, that is. The following week the I was burgled. But not by thieves. Nothing was taken but all the furniture and fittings were smashed.’

‘The I’s out of business now?’

‘Not as result of that night. The other traders in Bute Street knew what was going on so they rallied round and helped the owner replace everything. The night after it reopened it was broken into again and set on fire. The owner got the message. He shut up shop for good.’

‘Do the other businesses on Bute Street pay Charlie’s insurance?’

‘Not all of them. Charlie may be thick, but he knows which way his bread is buttered and where to get the jam. He leaves the small-profit places alone. The grocers, greengrocers, bakers, butchers, and ironmongers don’t interest him. He targets the ones that flout the law: the pubs that stay open beyond licensing hours, the cafes that serve the illegal booze the sailors bring in, the opium dens, and the knocking shops run by pimps. Rumour has it half the police force are in his pocket. It doesn’t pay to cross him, Aled.’

‘He warned me to stay away from his turf.’

‘Every bookie’s runner on the Bay works for Charlie.’

‘I’ve met Charlies before. He may be the front man but he’s not the brains. Is his father behind him?’

‘I doubt it. He drinks, but not as much as Charlie and he’s an outwardly respectable local politician. You won’t catch him getting his hands dirty. But there are a couple of men who’ve worked for the Moore family for years. They’re brothers – John and Tom Smith.’

‘And what were they called when they were born?’ Aled set his glass on the table next to him.

‘No one knows. Rumour has it they suggest most of the enterprises to Charlie and hire the thugs they need to run them.’

‘So, Charlie’s just a front for the Smiths? The employer fronting the hired men doesn’t sound right to me.’

‘If there’s anyone else behind Charlie Moore I don’t know who it is. What I do know is that Charlie hasn’t anything better to do than come down to Bute Street every day, pretend to work in his office, get drunk and pick up the money from his little enterprises.’

‘As I said, I’ve met the sort before. There are hundreds of them in the slums of New York.’ Aled finished his drink, rose to his feet and put his glass on the mantelpiece.

‘Gertie might be free and if she isn’t you could always see one of the other girls.’

‘No thanks, Anna. I have plans to make.’

‘Tiger Bay doesn’t need a war,’ she said seriously.

‘I have no intention of starting one.’

‘But you won’t pay Charlie insurance for your club?’

‘No, Anna, I won’t.’ He reached for his hat and angled it on his head. ‘See you around.’

‘The next time you want information?’

‘If you’re feeling neglected have dinner with me tomorrow evening in my suite?’

She smiled. ‘I’d like that.’

‘You’re a good friend, Anna. Goodnight.’

Anna watched Aled leave the house. One of ‘Aled’s boys’ had already opened the door of a new, leatherupholstered, luxurious Bentley. Anna closed the curtains, switched out the light and went into the kitchen. As always a fresh pot of tea stood on the table. She poured herself a cup, lit a cigarette and reflected just how far she – and Aled Cooper – had come in the last fifteen years or so.

Two weeks after Judy’s debut, Micah walked past the mid-morning queue that snaked out of Edyth’s bakery and down the pavement of Bute Street. He tipped his hat to the waiting women.

‘Good morning, ladies.’

‘It was a lovely morning before you jumped the queue, Micah Holsten. That’s not very Christian, and you a pastor,’ Doris, who lived in the same street as Helga and the King brothers, shouted when he stepped inside the shop.

He leaned out of the door. ‘I’m not here to buy anything, just to deliver a message to Mrs Slater.’

‘We’ll search you when you come out, to make sure, Micah,’ Doris threatened.

‘And check inside your mouth for crumbs,’ a wag added.

‘You’ll find nothing.’

‘It’ll be fun looking. It’s been a long time since I laid hands on a strapping virile young man like you.’ Doris puckered her lips and blew Micah a kiss.