“I thought it likely Mr. Hooligan would double-cross me. It’s like him to go with the winning side, having a desire to get ahead and not being burdened with any type of scruple, like the rest of us.”
“I noticed that most of the Sicilians were captured, as was your Mr. Hooligan and his men, while few of your men were found to arrest, save a group of Frenchmen who put up a stiff fight. If they can prove that they are legally in the country and are not agitators, they can stay. Hooligan is in jail this morning, and the rest are being questioned. If they are here illegally, however, I’m afraid we’ll have to ship them to the Continent.”
“Is that fair, do you think?” Barker asked in a neutral tone.
“It is expedient. We don’t have time to take each case individually. Some don’t speak English and some are obviously criminals. They’ll get a fair trial with a barrister to defend them. Both of you know that some will be back in London within the month.”
“It is not perfect, but I suppose it’s the most they can expect.”
“Vito Moroni passed away from his wounds this morning. His brother, Stefano, with the broken leg is still in the infirmary at Wormwood Scrubs. What did you do to his leg, by the way? Our man said he suddenly went down.”
“A little method I learned in Canton,” Barker said. “It was good to see it’s still effective.”
“I gather those gents have been sticking those blades of theirs into dozens of poor fellows across Europe. It was a fitting end for Vito, and perhaps his brother will learn something from it. He’s still young, barely thirty.”
“What about Marco Faldo?”
“His file arrived by the last post Saturday, too late to be of any use to us. It made for excellent reading, but I cannot say it would have been of great help. He had above-average intelligence, but he was still a brute. He grew up on the streets of Palermo after his father died and was arrested half a dozen times for extortion and assault. His reputation for ruthlessness helped him rise through the ranks. It’s believed he beat a policeman to death with the butt of his pistol, and he would have swung for it if the principal witness hadn’t recanted his testimony. Since then, he’s had several arrests but no convictions for the same reason. There’s a lot in there about Pettigrilli’s attempts to incarcerate him, poor chap.”
“Have you wired the Palermo police about the inspector’s fate?”
“I have. So far, there’s been no response. I’m certain it must be a cruel blow for the department, let alone his wife and family.”
“What’s to become of the bodies?” I asked.
“They’ll be buried here at government expense.”
“A better fate than Pettigrilli’s,” Barker growled. “His body was probably tossed overboard.”
“I imagine the police there will hold a memorial service for him,” Anderson said. “The city needs its heroes to carry on the fight. To think that could have been London. Would you say there will be more men like Marco Faldo, exporting crime from Sicily?”
“It seems inevitable. If Faldo had not been a criminal, he could have challenged Gigliotti in business and brought him down that way. His methods will be picked up by someone else and exported elsewhere. Given the right conditions, it will flourish.”
“Heaven help the world, then,” Anderson said.
“I hope you don’t mind taking joint credit with Scotland Yard over this matter,” Barker said. “It was the only way to keep us from remaining in custody.”
“When my superiors read my report, there will be no question over who actually pulled this thing off,” the Home Office man replied. “A check will be sent to you very shortly.”
Presumably he found our performance satisfactory. The remuneration from the government probably wouldn’t begin to pay for all our expenses, let alone the personal debt Barker owed to men like Tillett and Beauchamp, but it would recompense our efforts, at least. Barker walked Anderson to the front door and returned.
“That’s it, then,” I said. “He went for it.”
“You make it sound as if we were trying to trick him,” he said, pulling his walking stick out of the hall stand. “We accomplished all he asked of us, though not necessarily in the manner he might have imagined.”
We hailed a cab and rode to our office in Whitehall. I feel curiously deflated after a case is done.
Barker chose a pipe from the cabinet, stuffed it full from the jar that bore the legend Tabac, and lit it with a match from the small ceramic striker. He hooked his ankles on a corner of his desk and looked out the window, which was flooding the chamber with light. There was nothing to see but a bare, brick wall opposite, unless one stepped to the window, but he continued staring, as he filled the chamber with his tobacco smoke. I gathered my notes from the case and began putting them in some semblance of order prior to typing a full report for our files.
“Lad,” the Guv rumbled, “I wish to speak with you.”
“Sir?” I asked, putting down my notes. I had no idea what he would say. He could have spoken with me in the cab but preferred the formality of our chambers.
“Thomas, I wish to tell you that your apprenticeship is now over. As far as I am concerned, and my judgment is the only one required, you are now a journeyman in the field. I believe you’ve shown yourself knowledgeable and proficient in the skills of the profession.”
I have to admit I was taken aback. I suppose I should have realized that my apprenticeship would not last forever, but I wasn’t expecting this.
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “Is there some sort of test to take or license needed in order to become a journeyman?”
“No, lad,” Barker said. “Her Majesty’s government does not recognize our profession. Even when you have become an enquiry agent, there will be no license, no letters after your name. If you wish, Mr. Jenkins could make up a diploma for you, but we both know it’s just a piece of paper. We among the enquiry profession regulate ourselves, and I am able to say that you have completed the first leg of your training successfully.”
I wanted to say something brilliant and professional just then but couldn’t think of anything. It was just as well, for Barker went on.
“You will still have the position of assistant, of course. When you’re completely trained, have some seasoning, and have accrued enough money in your account, we may discuss the subject of your buying into partnership with me, but that is still many years from now. However, I have a question for you.”
What was he going to ask? He puffed a time or two on that dratted pipe of his. If I moved forward another half inch on my chair, I’d fall off.
Barker cleared his throat. “Mr. Llewelyn, I understand fully the circumstances of your hire-that you were going to throw yourself into the Thames if you were not gainfully employed, that you considered yourself a failed scholar, and that this was the only position available to someone with a criminal background such as yours. In short, you came here out of desperation. Now you are desperate no longer. You have earned enough to move your late wife’s remains to a proper site; you could if you so chose send money to your family in Wales and still live well here. I provide your room and board and training. I would be content to continue training you as my assistant, Thomas, but I would not have you here against your will. If you wish to become a clerk or private secretary, or even a poet, now is the time to do so. I can offer a letter of recommendation that should offset your criminal record, in certain circles, at least. I could even get you an interview or two. Your skills in shorthand, typing, orthography, and organization are exemplary; and you don’t have to be prompted to do anything. If you wish to leave my employment, now is the time. Of course, if you go, I shall miss our conversations and training together, but we shall both move on. However, if you stay, I shall rely on you more fully; and were you to leave then, or grow dissatisfied with your work, you would throw this agency into turmoil. Do you understand?”