The Quest for the Penny Black, page 9
‘Yes boss.’
‘I know where he hangs out. Take three of the boys and go to that video game cafe in Jameson Street. He’s usually there at this time.’
‘What then boss?’
‘Find out what’s going on but don’t let him know about Mrs W. Play it cool.’
‘Yes boss.’
One of them rose, made a call, went outside and drove away in an old Ford van.
Raz was playing his favourite video game when his mate Jock told him he was needed outside. Muttering to himself, he went outside but couldn’t see anyone. As he was walking past an alley, someone whistled. ‘Oi Raz! Come ‘ere man.’
He didn’t know whether to run or stay, but realised that if they knew where he was at that time, they’d easily find him. He walked down the alley to a white van parked at the side. It belonged to Ozy’s company. As he passed it, a side door opened and someone yanked him in.
‘Help!’ he shouted ‘What’s going on?’
A cotton bag was put over his head and his hands held tight. ‘We want a word with you boy,’ came a West Indian voice.
‘What? I dunno know nothing!’
‘You’ve been on someone else’s turf, haven’t you?’
‘No, no!’ he replied.
‘What were you doing in Tavistok Square, man?’
‘Just visiting an old lady.’
‘Why?’
‘To make sure she was OK.’
‘And why did you visit Highgate yard? Do you want to be stuffed there?’
‘No! No!’ Raz was getting scared by now as he knew how violent the West Indians could be.
‘Tell me Razor man, or I’ll use your own razor to redesign you.’
‘I’m telling yew the truth, man. I know nothing.’
He felt someone undoing his belt and slipping his trousers down. Something sharp pricked his upper leg, ‘Oh God!’ he shouted.
‘No, he won’t help you.’ someone replied. ‘Now I’ll ask you again, Razor man, why are you so interested in the old lady?’ He felt the sharp thing which was cold against his leg, sliding upwards towards his underpants.
‘OK! OK!’ he cried. ‘The old girl has found an old penny black stamp with instructions where to find some more.’
‘Is that important Raz?’
‘Yes!’ he cried as the blade touched his upper leg. ‘Yes! The stamps are worth thousands and my boss is helping her find the rest.’
‘You mean Archie Brown?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see,’ answered the voice. ‘And how long will it take?’
‘I dunna know, but the lady said a week or two.’
‘I see man. Well Raz, this is your lucky day. You can go, but don’t mention this to anyone, will you?’
‘No no!’
‘Do you know who we are?’
‘No! No! I’ve never seen you.’
The sack was taken off his head and he was pushed roughly out of the van. It started and reversed out of the alley to disappear round the corner.
Raz brushed himself down but was still shaking. He decided not to tell Archie about the incident. He turned and walked back to the video cafe, hoping to continue his game which by now, had probably been taken over by someone else. As he entered, his mate had put his coat over the chair, thus saving his place. What he didn’t know was that his mate had followed him out and seen him being bungled into the van. He had taken down the number before returning to the cafe.
‘All right?’ he asked.
‘Yea, just a bunch of boyos, who were trying to get information from me.’
His mate laughed. ‘What information?’
‘Oh don’t laugh. We’re onto something big.’
‘Oh yea? You’ve said that before!’
‘No no! This one is a dead ringer. You see, there’s an old woman who knows the whereabouts of some rare stamps and Archie and I are going with her. There’s a series of clues to follow, you see?’
‘Oh yea? Then what?’
‘Well, when we get the stamps, we’ll ditch the old girl and be set up. Why, we’ve already found one clue at Highgate!’
‘Yea? Sounds good, if it works!’
‘It will, Jock,’ replied Raz. ‘Now let’s get on with the game.’
Now Raz did not know that Jock was a nark and worked with a local gang run by a Mr Coombs and any information he could give the police or the other criminals, would mean extra cash. He excused himself and made a call to one of his paymasters. He gave him the information including the van number.
‘OK. Let me know if anything else comes to light.’
Jock rang off and returned to finish his game.
Jake returned from the library later in the afternoon. Opening the door, he noticed Mrs W in the study so he knocked and went in. She looked up. ‘Hullo Mr Drew.’ She asked, ‘Any luck?’
‘Well, yes. I went through books in the reading room and found that the Garrick theatre had a play on in 1895 called Mrs Ebbsmith. Also, the theatre is built over a river. It doesn’t say which one. I think this is the place.’
‘That’s good. You’ve done well. I’ll ring Mr Brown and make arrangements for tomorrow. You are free tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Hold on then.’ She went out to the phone and Jake could hear her talking. When she returned, she announced that Mr Brown and his team would come at 11 a.m. to discuss their progress.
‘Well, it’s been a busy day.’ he said. ‘I’m off to watch the football match. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Very well,’ she replied. ‘I’m making myself some dinner then it is an early night for me.’
‘Goodnight.’
Chapter 8
Jake was sitting in his room the next morning when Mrs W called up the stairs that Mr Brown had arrived. He put down his novel, found his slippers and walked carefully down the stairs, being on the lookout for Rodney. Entering the lounge, he saw Archie and Muster sitting there. Mrs W was serving the tea.
‘Ah, there you are,’ she began. ‘I was just telling Mr Brown that we have deduced that it is the Garrick theatre in Charing Cross Road.’
‘Correct,’ Jake confirmed sitting down and helping himself to a tea and biscuits. His eyes scouted the room. Rodney was nowhere to be seen. ‘If you look at the words,’ he continued, ‘you will note that a play was on which confirms with the library information and more importantly, there was or is a river running underneath, an old Roman one it says.’
‘Well that’s good work,’ commended Archie. ‘OK, when can we go? Better still, let me ring one of my friends and I’ll find out what’s going on there.’ Putting down his tea, he went out into the hall and closed the door. Jake listened carefully in case he heard the study door open, but it didn’t.
Instead, he could hear the drone of a voice without understanding what was being said.
Ten minutes later, Archie entered. ‘It’s all solved,’ he announced. ‘The theatre’s under renovation at the moment and its empty. The contractors finish at six and most importantly, the night watchman is a friend of a friend. For fifty pounds,’ looking at Mrs W, ‘he’s going out for a meal and leaving the keys under the mat inside the stage door.’
Mrs W sat back digesting the information. ‘I’ll pay the fifty pounds,’ she announced.
Archie smiled for it was twenty pounds that had paid off the night watchman, the rest he would pocket.
‘Well done Mr Brown.’ Archie’s chest swelled. I am good. Very good, he thought. ‘Now I suggest we go in tonight,’ he said. ‘Will you be coming?’ he asked looking at the Mrs.
‘Of course I will. I haven’t been to that theatre for twenty years.’
‘OK. In that case we’ll all go, except I’ll leave Nick outside in case a copper comes and asks questions. All right?’
‘All right,’ they agreed.
‘I’ll be here at about 7.30. You can travel with me and Moira.’ At this, Jake’s eyes shone.
‘Muster, tell Nick to take the Imp and hide it somewhere near and bring your tools with you.’
‘OK boss.’
‘So,’ concluded Archie rising from his seat. ‘Thanks for the tea, Mrs. We’ll see you this evening then.’
‘Certainly Mr Brown.’ She opened the door and he went out with Muster. Waving to the Mrs, they got into a car and headed off for the city.
Mrs W closed the door.
‘Well, that was satisfactory,’ she commented. ‘I’m looking forward to going to the Garrick again. It has a chequered history you know?’
‘I expect so,’ Jake agreed. He rose and after informing Mrs W that he was going to the dentist, he went upstairs, changed and made his way out. Mrs W fussed around and finally returned to the study to continue the reading of Sir Robert’s notebooks.
7 p.m. came and Mrs W and Jake were waiting in the lounge for Archie. A ‘toot’ echoed through the room and Jake looked out to confirm it was he.
‘I’ll take my camera,’ she confirmed, ‘in case we can get some good shots.’
‘OK,’ he replied. ‘Come on.’ They went out to be greeted by Archie in the bright red Velox. An Imp waited behind. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘You both come with me, here sit in the back. It’s more comfortable.’ Upon opening the door, Jake noticed that they were wearing dark blue overalls. Moira was sitting in the front and reeked of perfume.
‘Why are you wearing overalls?’ he enquired.
‘In case we’re disturbed. We can say we’re air con people or whatever.’ He passed a set to Jake. ‘You’d better put these on.’ he advised
‘Good idea’ he replied as he struggled to pull them on. ‘Where’s that Scotsman?’
‘He’s on another job and won’t be with us today.’
‘Oh.’
He got in and battling the London traffic, they were soon in Charing Cross Road. ‘I’ll park around the back,’ he explained. ‘Nick will wait in the car in case a rozzer turns up.’
‘Where’s the Imp?’ Jake asked.
‘Oh, that’s in a car park near here.’ Turning into the alley, he stopped. ‘All out,’ he said. He got out and went to a door marked ‘Stage Door’. It was unlocked. He beckoned the others to follow him. Once in, Archie looked for the light switch and turning it on, revealed a stairway beside a security box that lead down. ‘This way to the working area,’ he explained. ‘The dressing rooms are down here and further down are the heating and sprinkler system. We need to get to the lower area.’ Making their way along the passage, it opened to reveal a wide corridor. As they walked along, some of the doors had a star on them.
‘Oh,’ said Moira. ‘That must be where the stars change.’ Looking at Mrs W who was carrying her camera, ‘Can I have my photo taken by the door?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’ and Mrs W fumbled to take out the camera and fiddled with the knobs.
‘It looks a bit old,’ Jake commented.
‘It might be bit old, but it takes some good pictures. Stand still Moira.’ and she pointed and took the pictures amidst a large flash of the camera in the artificial light.
‘Can we go in?’ continued Moira looking at Archie.
‘I suppose so,’ and he fiddled with the keys. Opening the door and turning on the light revealed a simple room with a settee and chairs at one end, a cupboard, a screen and most important, a dressing table and chair.
‘I expect the best actresses and actors have peered into that glass,’ Mrs W observed.
‘I bet,’ echoed Moira and went over and sat gazing in the mirror. ‘Take another picture,’ she asked.
Mrs W obliged. Moira sat there for a few minutes, seemingly reluctant to move.
‘Come on,’ Archie said. ‘We haven’t got all night.’
Mrs W watched Moira as she sat still just looking at herself in the mirror. She understood. ‘Before we go and look for the clue thing,’ Mrs W continued. ‘I want to see the stage.’
‘Oh all right.’ and Archie led the way to the end of the passage to a wide area behind a wide flight of stairs. ‘I expect it’s this way,’ as he led them upwards. At the top, it divided into two corridors. ‘We’ll go this way,’ he said Opening the door at the top, they found themselves at one side of the stage. It was in darkness. ‘Let me find the lights.’ and he disappeared down the side. In a few minutes, there was a click and the whole stage and auditorium was blazed in light. As they looked round, it became apparent that major renovation works were underway. The seats were covered in dust sheets and there was scaffolding at the sides to the boxes where it appeared that painting and other renovation works were going on. The stage was large and ropes and rods spanned above them where the sets would be raised and lowered. The floor was of wood and around the edge, footlights shone brightly.
‘So this is where the magic begins,’ Mrs W observed.
Moira made a decision. ‘I’ve always wanted to be on the stage,’ she confessed. ‘I’d like to dance for a few minutes if you don’t mind.’
They looked at each other and nodded.
‘Of course,’ confirmed Mrs W. ‘Come take me down. We’re going to see Moira dance.’
They made their way down to the front row of the stalls, removed the dust covers and made themselves comfortable.
Moira removed her shoes, wrapped a long sheet of plastic she found by the side, which acted as a large scarf, then stood motionless in the centre of the stage. Suddenly she leaped and began a most effortless series of twists and turns. Her dancing was elegant and all-consuming as she danced the silent longings of her dreams. The scarf drifted behind her like a cloud and at times, she wrapped herself in the plastic as she danced, to twist and reveal herself as the plastic sank behind her.
Suddenly she stopped and collapsed to the floor. Sobs could be heard. They looked at each other. It had been a professional moment undertaken from the heart.
‘Don’t go to her,’ said Mrs W sharply. ‘Leave her to me. Now you go and find the next clue. Get me out of the seat onto the stage.’
Helping her onto the stage, she waved to them to go away. Archie looked at the others pointing to the wings where they disappeared out of sight. Mrs W approached Moira and eased her up to a settee that was at the side of the stage. ‘What’s the matter dear?’ she asked. This brought on fresh tears. ‘Come on,’ she repeated. ‘A problem halved is a problem solved. Why are you so sad?’
Moira looked up with her tear stained face. ‘Oh,’ she began, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Sorry! Sorry! Why it was an elegant show of talent. Where did you learn to dance like that?’
‘I took ballet dancing lessons until I was twelve,’ she sniffed. ‘The dance I did was from a film called, Singing in the Rain, where Gene Kelly danced a dream sequence with another dancer. I can’t remember her name.’
‘Well it was wonderful,’ she replied. ‘Why didn’t you continue?’
‘I had trouble at home,’ she continued, ‘so I went to live with my auntie, but she was too strict, so I ran away when I was sixteen.’
Ah! A familiar story, thought Mrs W.
‘I did some jobs in London but people took advantage of me. Then I met Archie who takes care of me.’ She sniffed and Mrs W gave her one of her lace handkerchiefs.
‘My dear,’ she commented. ‘It seems you love dancing and the stage. Why don’t you take it up properly?’
‘I can’t now. I’m too well-known and old.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty five.’
‘Nonsense, when we find the stamps and we will, you’ll have enough to go to an acting school, like RADA, or a dancing school.’
‘But what about my past?’ she cried.
‘None of us can change our past,’ she continued. ‘We all make mistakes and I’ve made plenty, but whatever happened in the past is the past. Dreams go on until we die. Dream your dreams, my dear, and if you dream hard enough and work at it hard enough, they’ll come true.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Of course. Trust me. If they didn’t, how is it that you’re here on the stage with me, beginning another dream?’
She smiled. ‘You’re right Mrs W.’
‘Now wipe your tears. You have nothing to fear. You’ll make it, I promise.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Call me auntie and remember if you have a problem, let me know. I may be able to help.’
‘Thank you, auntie.’ She flung her arms around Mrs W’s neck.
‘We’ll sit here a while and let the others do the work. I’ll tell you about Syria many years ago and how I fell in love with another explorer, who was from the Middle East.’
They sat on that old settee; an old lady who had seen all there was to see and a young lady whose dreams, would hopefully, come true.
The others, consisting of Jake, Archie and Muster made their way down to the basement, with Archie turning on the lights as they proceeded into a large room where heating equipment was strewn across the floor with interconnecting pipes painted different colours joining them. The floor appeared to be of recent construction, with partition walls erected around the room. A door stood at one end marked ‘Do not enter. Danger.’ They searched around the floor area, but could find nothing like a trapdoor.
‘What’s in there?’ asked Muster pointing to the door.
‘There’s only one way to find out. Let’s see if I’ve got a key.’ Archie fumbled through the bunch of keys he held. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Muster, break the lock.’
‘OK boss.’ and with one swipe of his jemmy, the lock hasp broke.
‘Open the door,’ advised Archie. ‘But be careful. Get your torch out.’
Muster, after removing his torch from his bag, slowly opened the door. Beyond it was blackness. ‘I can’t see nofink,’ he said.
‘Let me have a look.’ As Archie shone his torch in the opening, he noticed a ladder reaching down onto another floor six feet below. Shining his torch, he made out wooden framework partially broken at the sides and ends. Leaning down into the void, he shone his torch upwards to reveal that the floor they were standing on was an addition and supported by beams that led into the walls. ‘This must be the original floor,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll go down.’ He climbed down the ladder to stand on the wooden boards. They creaked and he reached for the ladder. ‘Get me the rope then I can tie it around me in case it breaks.’
