Tuppence to Tooley Street (34 page)

As he sat alone during a brief lull in the grilling, Johnny Ross could almost feel the hangman’s noose tightening around his neck. They had even established a motive for the killing: they knew of the bad blood between him and Mason and they had supporting statements, or so they said. The lack of sleep and the futility of it all overcame him and he lowered his head onto the hard table top. He fell into a troubled doze and when he awoke he felt stiff all over. It seemed to Johnny as though he had been asleep for hours. Then he heard the gruff voices outside the locked door, and the key in the lock. Two stern–faced detectives came into the room and one of them sat down opposite him. A sheet of paper was thrust in front of him and a pen slapped onto the table.

 

Early on that Monday morning the pale, drawn figure of Violet Thompson walked wearily along Tooley Street. Her shopping bag seemed extra heavy and her legs felt as though they were going to give out on her. Alice Sutton had just left the greengrocer’s and almost bumped into her.

‘’Ello, luv,’ Alice said. ‘Yer look done in. ’Ow’s young Kathy?’

Violet put her bag down at her feet and pressed her hand against the small of her back. ‘She’s doin’ well, Alice,’ she said slowly, wincing visibly. ‘Yer Danny’s visit perked ’er up no end.’

Alice looked at Violet with concern and noticed a discolouring around her left eye and a swelling in the corner of her mouth. She put her hand on Violet’s forearm. ‘Yer all right, luv?’ she asked gently. ‘Yer don’t look at all well.’

Kathy’s mother drew in her breath and tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Alice, I’ve gotta talk ter somebody,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘I’m worried out o’ me life.’

Alice picked up Violet’s shopping bag and nodded her head towards Dawson Street. ‘C’mon, let’s ’ave a nice cuppa roun’ my place. We’ll ’ave a chat.’

A horse–cart trundled through the turning and the sound of its iron–rimmed wheels on the cobbles carried into the tidy parlour. The two women sat facing each other and Alice watched as Violet sipped her tea. When she had finished Alice took the cup out of her trembling hands and laid it down on the table. ‘Are yer feelin’ any better, luv?’ she asked.

Violet nodded and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m worried, sick, Alice.’

‘Kathy’ll be all right now, Vi. She’s over the worst,’ Alice said quietly.

‘It’s not Kathy, it’s me ole man,’ Violet replied, looking down at her clasped hands. ‘We ’ad a terrible row last night. Over Mason.’

‘Go on, Vi,’ Alice prompted.

Violet took a deep breath. ‘Charlie come in late last night, pissed as usual, an’ ’e started on me.’

‘I can see that,’ Alice said quickly. ‘Did ’e give yer that eye?’

Violet stared down at her hands. Alice began to feel uncomfortable and she decided to change the subject. She leaned forward in her chair. ‘My Danny told me they’ve got young Johnny Ross fer the murder,’ she said. ‘Allen the bookie told ’im last night.’

Violet’s hand came up to her mouth and she closed her eyes tightly. ‘Oh my Gawd! What am I gonna do, Alice?’ she groaned.

‘What d’yer mean, Vi? There’s nuffink yer can do.’

‘But yer don’t understan’, Alice. Johnny Ross never killed Mason. Charlie done it,’ she blurted out, and she began sobbing loudly.

Alice was shocked. ‘Gawd Almighty Gawd! ’E can’t ’ave!’

Violet’s eyes opened wide and bored into Alice’s. ‘’E told me ’imself.’

Alice shook her head slowly. ‘It don’t make any sense at all. Yer Charlie won’t ’ave ’is own daughter back in the ’ouse.’

Violet laughed bitterly through her tears. ‘’E didn’t do Jack Mason in fer Kathy. It was somefink else.’

Alice looked bewildered. ‘Kathy ain’t Charlie’s daughter, Alice,’ Violet said in a tired voice. ‘I met ’im after I fell fer Kathy. ’E’s never let me forget it neivver.’

Alice nodded. ‘So that’s why ’e knocks yer about, an’ won’t’ave the poor little cow back in the ’ouse. But why did ’e kill Mason?’

‘It’s a long story, Alice,’ Mrs Thompson began.

Alice stopped her. ‘Let’s fill yer cup, luv,’ she said.

The two women faced each other in the small parlour and sipped their tea in silence. Violet studied the flower pattern on her cup. ‘Yer see, Alice,’ she began, ‘I’ve never spoke ter Jack Mason, but my Charlie knows ’im well. Charlie comes from Dock’ead same as Mason. A long time ago there was some fiddlin’ goin’ on where Charlie used ter work. I fink it was one o’ the wharves in Dock’ead. They was gettin’ stuff out an’ Mason was floggin’ it. Charlie got done out o’ some money an’’e went after one o’ Mason’s mates. My Charlie was an’ ’andful then, ’e give this bloke a goin’ over, an’ the police got involved. Charlie got six months fer assault. Then a few months ago there was an argument in the pub between Charlie an’ Mason. Charlie was pissed an’ ’e told Jack Mason ter leave Kathy alone. Mason must ’ave ’eard the talk about Kathy not bein’ Charlie’s an’ ’e frew it up in ’is face. The pair of ’em nearly got at it but they was stopped. Charlie told me the same night ’e would end up doin’ Mason in, but he didn’t kill Mason fer Kathy, it was fer ’is own pride. When ’e come ’ome on Friday night wiv blood on ’is coat–sleeve ’e wouldn’t stop goin’ on about it. Now you’ve told me that Johnny Ross is bein’ blamed fer it, I feel so guilty. What can I do, Alice?’

Alice pinched her bottom lip. ‘’E’ll ’ave ter give ’imself up, Vi. Yer’ll ’ave ter tell ’im.’

Violet laughed mirthlessly. ‘I can’t, Alice. ’E’s gorn. ’E pissed orf on Sunday night after ’e’d finished knockin’ me all over the ’ouse.’

‘Where’s ’e gorn to, Vi?’

‘’E’s got a bruvver in Liverpool. ’E might ’ave gone there.’E told me ’e was gettin’ out o’ London.’

Alice gripped her friend’s arm. ‘But yer can’t leave it, Vi,’ she said. ‘That poor lad’ll swing fer somefink ’e never done. Go ter the police, tell ’em. Yer don’t ’ave ter say anyfink about yer ole man bein’ in Liverpool. It’s their job ter catch ’im. Yer’ll only be gettin’ poor Johnny Ross out o’ trouble.’

Violet Thompson frowned. ‘Ain’t there somefink about a wife not bein’ able ter give evidence against ’er ’usband?’

‘I’ve ’eard it said, Vi, but yer gotta go ter the police. Tell ’em everyfing. It’s up ter them ter get the evidence tergevver. At least yer’ll be able ter sleep at night.’

Violet stood up suddenly. ‘Do me one more favour, Alice,’ she said with an imploring look. ‘Come wiv me.’

 

In mid–August the battle of Britain was raging over the English Channel and Southern England. Every day the blue sky was slashed with vapour trails as planes dived and soared in deadly combat. Stricken machines fell into the sea around the coast and dived into the rolling green countryside. Each day the newspapers carried the tally of planes downed as though they were reporting county cricket scores. The battle for survival had begun, and everyone knew that if the battle was lost the invasion would be a certainty. As the news improved a heady feeling of hope prevailed. People were relieved that at last the months of uncertainty and anxiety were over. In dockland as in other parts of the country folk crowded around wireless sets listening to the news broadcasts, and German losses brought forth cheers. Corner shops stuck up posters with the latest scores in large lettering; pubs filled with merry–makers every evening, and patriotic songs rang out. It was a time of great excitement, and everyone’s spirits were lifted.

In the middle of August, Danny Sutton boarded a train to Maidstone. He had mixed feelings as he watched the houses and factories give way to green fields from his carriage window, his sense of unease mingling with high excitement at the prospect of being with Alison. She had filled his thoughts constantly since her letter to him, and for all his misgivings Danny knew he had to make the journey. He had not been able to force her from his mind. There were times when he thought of Kathy and looked forward to her return, but the picture of Alison stayed with him and tortured his emotions; the strong physical urge to make love with her again sent his pulse racing.

The train pulled into Maidstone Station and Danny joined the Saturday lunchtime passengers as they walked from the platform. Alison was there at the barrier, and he was thrilled by her radiance. He held her closely and kissed her, tasting her warm lips. Together they walked from the station and out into the sunshine. They found a restaurant and chatted happily over their meal about day to day things, and Alison told him about her new post at the hospital. And the tension between them had gone. They had been lovers, and they had the night to know each other once more.

In the early afternoon they strolled in the park and found shade beneath a leafy tree. The grass felt cool and the whisper of a breeze fanned their hot faces. Alison lay propped on one elbow and looked down at Danny as he lay on his back and chewed on a blade of grass.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said suddenly.

‘Me too.’

‘Tell me, Danny, that night we spent together. Has it stayed with you?’

Danny turned onto his side and looked into Alison’s dark, brooding eyes. ‘If yer mean do I still fink about that night, the answer’s yes. I fink about it twenty times a day. Night times I lay finkin’ about yer an’ I wish I could turn over an’ feel yer there beside me.’

‘I feel lonely at night too, Danny. There have been nights when I’ve wanted you so badly. I imagine you’re on your way to me, you’re my secret lover and I’m waiting for you. Can we be secret lovers, Danny?’

Danny reached up and pulled her down to him. Their lips met and he felt her teeth close on his bottom lip.

As the sun dipped over the horizon and the evening sky took on a pinkish hue the lovers strolled hand in hand through the town, idling away the time until dusk. They found a pub with a garden and sat sipping their drinks at a log table. Blossoms overhung the stone courtyard and a grotesque vine scaled the ancient walls. The song of a bird split the silence, and up above grey–blue clouds rolled across a dark velvet sky and revealed diamonds of light. Time seemed to have stopped still for Danny and the war was a world away, the promise in Alison’s eyes tantalising him. But deep down he felt misgivings stirring his conscience.

‘You’re shivering, Danny.’

Alison’s words of concern jolted him back to reality. ‘I was jus’ dreamin’,’ he replied, taking her hand in his. ‘This is like anuvver world. Who’d fink there was a war on?’

‘This is magical,’ Alison said, looking up at the night sky. ‘Just you and me, and nothing else. We’re lovers. Lovers who meet on nights like this and who carry the memory with us till we meet again. That’s the magic for me, Danny. It doesn’t spoil and get ordinary. I don’t want it to be just ordinary. I want it to be magic always.’

Danny looked at her with sad eyes. ‘Trouble is, it’s an ordinary world, Alison. It’s a real world. Yer can’t live in fairyland. Fairyland is fer kids.’

Alison looked up again at the twinkling stars. ‘That’s fairyland out there,’ she said.

Danny grinned. ‘Them stars are a million miles away. It’s a long way ter fairyland.’

They left the pub and walked slowly through a maze of little streets. Alison had her arm in his and he could feel her soft breast against him. She steered him down a narrow lane and stopped at a low–fronted house.

‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘I share this place with three other nurses. We’ve all got our own rooms.’

Alison found her key and turned it in the lock. Inside the air smelt of lavender, and in the hall a rosewood chest and a grandfather clock stood against the white walls. Alison opened a door to their left and held Danny’s hand as they entered. She closed the door behind them and switched on the light.

The room was cosy, with patchwork rugs covering the wooden floor, a large settee occupying the centre of the room and wicker chairs arranged around the sides. Close to the settee was a small coffee table scattered with magazines, and pictures of country scenes in ebony frames were hung around the walls. At the far end there was a doorway through to another room, and Danny caught a glimpse of a bed. Alison took off her coat and waited while Danny did the same. She hung up their coats behind the door and came to him slowly. ‘Well, how do you like my little den?’

‘It’s real nice,’ Danny said, looking around.

She was standing close to him and he pulled her nearer. Her arms went around his neck and they kissed long and urgently, and when they parted Danny lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Alison rested her head on his shoulder and she could feel the muscles moving beneath his shirt. Her breath came quickly as he laid her gently down on the bed and fumbled with the buttons of her dress. He kissed her soft neck and smooth shoulders and caressed her hard nipples and silky thighs. Alison’s quick breathing became faster and, moaning with pleasure, she pulled him to her. When the first light of dawn shone into the room Alison awoke and curled her sleepy body closer to Danny’s. Her hands awoke him with gentle caresses, and a delicious giving of pleasure united their sleepy bodies and brought them to a dreamy climax. When they stirred once more it was late morning.

The day was warm, and after a leisurely breakfast they strolled through the town and visited the pub where they had spent the last evening. In the afternoon the lovers went into the park again and walked through the scented flower gardens and along shaded pathways. They rested in the sweet–smelling grass of a lush green field, Danny thinking of their imminent parting, while Alison made fun of his serious expression.

‘Why so sad?’ she asked.

‘Goodbyes do that ter me,’ Danny said, stroking her smooth arm.

‘You shouldn’t be sad, Danny. We can see each other again soon. If there were no goodbyes there’d be no hellos, would there?’

‘We could get married,’ Danny said suddenly.

Alison’s face became serious and she picked at the grass. ‘Don’t let’s spoil it all, Danny. We’ve got happiness, you and I. Marriage is not for me. I need you, I don’t need a marriage.’