What could you do with men like the peelers, who respected nobody except Sir Robert Peel himself? The very thought of them was just another problem for Sharp Bob’s bladder to cope with. A certain amount of fear trickled down his leg as he said carefully, ‘No, sir, not for the peelers, sir. He’s a bloke, sir, although he is really more of a geezer, sir, if you catch my meaning?’
This led to a frosty silence, which was followed by, ‘I do not intend to catch anything of yours, Mister Bob. What is a geezer?’ The word was said as if the speaker was pulling a dead mouse out of their soup, or more accurately, half a dead mouse.
Sharp Bob, who in these circumstances now realized that only half his name was accurate, was struggling now. Didn’t everybody know what a geezer was? Of course they did! Well, every Londoner did, anyway. A geezer was . . . well, a geezer! It was like asking: What is a pint of beer? Or, What is the sun? A geezer was a geezer; although it did occur to Bob that he would have to do some work on the definition before he answered the dangerous voice in the darkness.
He cleared his throat again and said, ‘A geezer, now, well, a geezer is somebody that everybody knows, and he knows everybody, and maybe he knows something about everyone he knows that maybe you wished he didn’t know. Um, and well, he’s sharp, crafty, um, not exactly a thief but somehow things find their way into his hands. Doesn’t mind a bit of mischief, and wears the street like an overcoat. Dodger now . . . well, Dodger’s a tosher as well, which means he knows what’s going on down in the sewers too – a tosher, sir, being somebody who goes down there looking for coins and suchlike which may have been lost down the drain.’ This mention of drains seemed to make Sharp Bob somewhat more uneasy as he continued to move uncomfortably and added, ‘What I’m meaning to say, sir, is that he is a central kind of cove, you might say – makes the place a bit more interesting, if you know what I mean? And he’s been seen mixing with some nobby types recently.’
Sweating hard and still squirming on his seat, Sharp Bob awaited judgement. Above the frantic beating of his heart he thought he could hear faint whispering beyond the wall of fire. So there was more than one person in the room with him! He squirmed even more – this was not going well.
Eventually, the voice said, ‘We do not have any interest in interesting people; they can be dangerous. However, if this Dodger is asking questions about the girl then he might either find her, or know where she is now, and so therefore I require you to make certain that he is watched at all times, do you understand? And, of course, it goes without saying that there should be no way that he can know that he is being spied on. Do I make myself clear, Mister Robert? Because I generally do. This is a very delicate matter, and we will be extremely disappointed should matters not be brought to a happy ending. I don’t intend to expand here, but I’m sure you will understand what an ultimate failure ultimately entails. We want that girl, Mister Bob. We want her back.
‘Incidentally, Mister Bob, one of my associates will now take you gently by the arm and lead you to a place where you can, as it were, find some relief. You may take the sovereigns as a token of good faith and we rely on you to deserve them.’
A foreigner’s gold, Sharp Bob thought, was as good as anyone else’s, but you could get into trouble with foreigners, and he would be glad when all this was over.
After taking up the sovereigns and being allowed the blessed relief of the jakes, Sharp Bob was bundled back into the wretched coach, which by the feel of it trundled him all around London again before he was rather rudely pushed out close to his office, his mind busy with what he knew about the lad called Dodger.
One of the invisible gentlemen who had been sitting in the dark leaned down and, switching to his native tongue, said to the interlocutor, ‘Are you quite sure about this man, sir? After all, we could get the Outlander? I have made enquiries and he is free at the moment.’
‘No. The Outlander is sometimes very messy, dangerous; it might become . . . political, if it was known that we had called him in. We would prefer to avoid causing an . . . incident. No, the Outlander is the last resort. I have heard about what he did to the family of the Greek ambassador – it was entirely uncalled for. I won’t dream of sending for the likes of him until every other avenue has been fruitless. If this troublemaker persists in his trouble-making, or brings others into the affair . . . well, then, we may need to reconsider. For now, however, let us continue to use this Mister Robert Sharp. It surely can’t be all that difficult, can it, for him to find a girl for us? To follow a grubby little guttersnipe? We can always get rid of him later if he becomes an . . . embarrassment.’
CHAPTER 7
Dodger gets a close shave and becomes a hero (again!); Charlie gets a story – and a pair of ruined trousers
DODGER GOT BACK home and cleaned his face and hands while Solomon dished up the pork casserole; Solomon never said much about his time wandering around other countries, but he had certainly learned cookery on the journey, using spices and herbs that Dodger had never heard of.
Dodger had once asked Solomon why he had chosen to come to England, and Solomon had said, ‘Mmm, well, my dear, it seems to me that in the pinch most governments settle for shooting their people, but in England they have to ask permission first. Also, people don’t much mind what you’re doing as long as you’re not making too much noise. Mmm, I like that in this country.’ He had paused. ‘Once, when I was running away, as usual, I recall I met a rather hairy young man who told me that one day all that sort of thing would be swept away. We were hiding from Cossacks at the time. Occasionally, I mmm wonder what happened to young Karl . . .’
After the meal, which was delicious, Solomon and Dodger took Onan for his walk while the sun chased the horizon. It was an education to see Solomon locking up. The steps to the attic were narrow and rickety, just like the rest of this place and more or less like everywhere else, but it was when you got inside the attic you noticed the differences – the steel reinforcement around the door, the lock that looked simple but was very complicated indeed, having been made by Solomon himself. It would have taken a small army to break in, and Dodger himself even had to give a special knock before Solomon would open his door. He had asked Solomon why he went to all this trouble, and the old man had said ‘A lesson learned, my friend,’ and left it at that.
Now the streets looked a little like a fairyland under the honey glow of the evening sun, although, it must be said, only a little. But the sun seemed to heal the city of the argy-bargy and insults of the day, although there were still a few stalls, their owners lighting up flares as the light dwindled. All was calm and placid – but you knew that this was merely the shift change, because the night people followed the day people as, well, night follows day, although day, generally speaking, doesn’t pick night’s pockets.
The two of them had a beer from a bottle shop, sharing some of it with Onan while Dodger told Sol about Onan’s find in the sewers, and how he was planning to return to the Mayhews’ house to take Simplicity for a walk if possible the following day. Tired out, they finally headed back to the attic.