The Fight for Lizzie Flowers Page 10

  Danny nodded. He’d been convinced the robbery was down to Frank. But now he wasn’t so sure.

  ‘He’s not local,’ Doug confirmed. ‘I’ve not seen him before.’

  ‘Sounds like he’s the geezer who nicked our tools, though,’ Cal said angrily.

  Lil took out her cigarettes. ‘It gave Lizzie a real turn, seeing that gun.’

  ‘But he’s in no hurry to move in on the shop,’ Danny said, frowning. ‘Or else he’d have emptied the till there and then.’

  ‘Seeing as he seems to know so much, wouldn’t mind betting he’s been waiting to make a move,’ Cal said slowly.

  Danny hit the side of his head with his hand. ‘Course, Cal. You’re right. He said he knew everything. So it’s likely he’s been sniffing around after us for some time.’

  ‘Might be worth a look outside. See if anyone’s there.’ Cal was already on the landing. Danny heard him go lightly down the stairs and then the click of the front door.

  ‘You mean we’ve been followed?’ Lil said in a startled voice.

  ‘Dunno, Lil. But this geezer knows too much about us.’

  ‘He’s putting the squeeze on,’ said Doug, standing up, and like Danny walking around the office. ‘And seeing what happens.’

  ‘Jesus, you two. Sit down.’ Lil lit up and took a deep breath, picking a speck of tobacco from her bottom lip. ‘You’re giving me the creeps.’

  ‘Lil, this is serious. One of them had a gun,’ Doug impressed on his wife. ‘He could have killed Lizzie or Bert or even us.’

  Lil put her cigarette nervously between her lips. ‘It might not have been loaded.’

  ‘It was,’ Danny said, which made Lil sit upright.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Villains don’t walk around waving empty shooters. They ain’t toys, Lil.’

  Cal came back up the stairs and walked slowly into the office. He glanced at Doug and Lil.

  ‘Well?’ demanded Lil, her ash spilling on the wooden floor.

  ‘A motor went off by the dock wall.’

  ‘A big one with white-walled tyres?’ Doug asked in alarm.

  Cal nodded. ‘A Daimler. They was in no rush either. As if they wanted me to see them.’

  Everyone was silent. Lil stared at her husband. ‘Now I really have got the wind up.’

  Danny nodded. ‘It’s called intimidation. That’s what villains do.’

  ‘Intimidation, protection, whatever you call it,’ Doug said on a heavy breath, ‘it’s poison to all of us.’

  ‘That’s about it,’ agreed Danny. He pushed his dirty hands down the front of his overalls and walked out onto the landing. He looked down on the garage beneath. He had two of the buses ready to move on and a smaller vehicle waiting for repair. They were managing with the tools he’d bought up Mile End, but life would have been a lot easier with his old kit. Still, no time to think about that now. He’d find out sooner or later who took his stuff and they would live to regret it, he’d make sure of that. As for what they were to do now, there was only one course of action. But no one was going to like it.

  Taking a moment to compose himself, he breathed in the fumes of his workshop below and the oil and grease odours that hung like an invisible cloud from the rafters. Then pulling back his shoulders he returned to the office and three expectant faces.

  ‘Doug, you’d better keep your eyes pinned over the next week,’ he said and received a nod from his friend. ‘Lil, there’s no reason to think they’ll bother you at all. Today was just a bit of ruffling of feathers.’

  ‘I’ll give ’em ruffling me bleeding feathers!’ Lil tried to joke.

  Danny smiled. ‘But I’d like you to tell Lizzie that Bert needs back-up.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Savage is right. A broom is no match for guns.’

  ‘Christ, you’re not thinking of—’ Doug began, but Danny was shaking his head.

  ‘No shooters yet. Lizzie wouldn’t hear of it.’

  Once again there was silence. If safety measures had been up to him, Danny would have kept a shotgun at least in the storeroom, even if it wasn’t loaded. But he knew Lizzie’s take on that and he’d have to work round it.

  ‘What you going to do then, son?’ asked Doug calmly.

  ‘I’m going to sort out a crew.’

  ‘Crew?’ Lil and Doug said together.

  ‘Hired muscle. Enough for the shop anyway. Cal and me can take care of the garage. But Lizzie will need cover.’ Danny flexed his tight shoulders. He knew no one, least of all Lizzie, would like the idea. But if he could find the right calibre of hired help, then Savage wasn’t going to move in on any of them. At least, not without a fight.

  ‘Do you know of anyone?’ asked Doug in surprise. ‘I mean, anyone suitable?’

  ‘It’ll take me a few days,’ Danny said evenly, ‘but I’ve a fair idea.’

  Danny knew that it had to be done. He didn’t like it, and it went against the grain. He’d hoped that here on the island he could carve out a living on the right side of the law. But that was easier said than done as he’d found out with Bray.

  If he was going to jump in at the deep end, he’d have to be sure he was the strongest swimmer.

  ‘At least we’re on neutral turf,’ Danny remarked to Cal as they entered the public house. He looked around the smoke-filled bar and studied the faces. The Quarry, back in the day, was a traders’ ale house, filled with budding entrepreneurs and market stallholders. They were a bright lot, and honest in their own way. But that was in his dad’s time. Things had changed since then.

  ‘Clock anyone?’ Cal asked as they made their way to the bar. It was a warm Saturday night in May and still light outside. Danny thought how a tavern never seemed to be as welcoming at this time of year. The hearth was missing the roaring fire. Despite the fine day, the atmosphere was gloomy. The beer smelled stale, the spittoons were full and the bare boards creaked under their footsteps.

  ‘Not yet. I owe Michael O’Grady a favour for tonight.’ Danny smiled at the landlord who gave him a nod. There wasn’t a great friendship between them. But when Danny had explained his need, O’Grady had understood.

  Danny and Cal moved to a stall at the rear of the big, noisy room. Danny glanced round as they tried to make themselves comfortable on the hard wooden benches.

  He saw the usual faces, clusters of twos and threes, hugging their tankards and glasses. None of them had looked round at their entrance. But Danny knew that each one of them had ears cocked. The Quarry might not be a gentlemen’s club, but everyone here tonight knew each other’s business. And he wouldn’t be surprised if they knew his, too.

  ‘Did O’Grady give a time?’ Cal asked, his black eyes trawling the figures at the bar.

  ‘We were to be here after nine.’ Danny shrugged, his hand slipping to the claw-tooth hammer in his jacket pocket. He didn’t expect trouble. Not at this stage. But he was now in uncharted waters.

  ‘Do we have a name?’

  ‘No,’ Danny replied. ‘They’re from across the water. That’s all O’Grady would say.’

  ‘Can we trust him?’

  Danny sipped his ale. ‘No way. But we can trust our money and what it will buy. Sides, these characters were once shafted by Savage, so I’m told.’

  Cal sat tensely nevertheless and Danny wondered what was going through his mind. This wasn’t really his call. He was just the hired help. Yet to Danny, Cal had become the closest of all his friends. Not that he had many. But Cal had been with him from the bad days. Deep in those stinking Aussie pits, where Cal’s skin was invisible against the blackened walls. And he’d had to fight for his life, just as Danny had. The black bushman and the Pom. Danny smiled at the memory.

  A figure walked in the door. Danny came sharply back to the present. He narrowed his eyes, felt Cal tense beside him. But it was just a young lad, barely legal enough to stick his nose inside an ale house.

  Cal met Danny’s eyes and they settled back again on the benches. Cal took out
his tobacco pouch and rolled his own, but still with his gaze fixed on the doors. Danny sat watching the pimps and prostitutes and the sprinkling of bookies and runners that mixed with the cabbies and small-time villains. He wondered what Bill would say about the pub now. Knowing Bill, he’d probably go right over and talk his way into a drink.

  That was his dad. Fearless. Everyone’s mate. Danny gave a long sigh of reflection. The night he’d walked in here a year ago, he’d been Frank Flowers’s brother. The kid who’d run a barrow in the early days, then scarpered halfway across the world. Well, he’d had to face that down. He was back. And he intended to stay. He’d made his point all right, the night some loudmouth had taken a swipe at him. Danny had ducked that one and landed his own. He’d done the same the following week and the next. Eventually his baptism of fire was over. He’d even gained one or two customers. And now there were winks and nods rather than abuse.

  But it was not the regulars Danny was here to meet. It was the shadier element who, so far, he’d had no truck with. Now, it seemed, all that was about to change.

  ‘Mister?’

  Danny looked up. The boy stood there. He was even younger up close than Danny had first thought. Thirteen? Fourteen? He smelled and it drifted over the table as he rubbed his dirty hands over his torn trousers.

  Danny nodded. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘A bob.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For fetching yer.’ A filthy palm shot out.

  Danny stared at it. ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘Dunno. Some geezer.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘You gonna give me the money?’

  Danny dug in his pocket and handed over a shilling. The youngster cuffed his nose again, then said, ‘Down the alley.’ Before Danny had climbed to his feet, the boy had spun away and disappeared.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Cal asked, leaning forward.

  ‘Seems like our man is the nervous type.’

  ‘Yeah, well, so am I. Which one is he?’

  Danny shook his head imperceptibly. ‘Not here. Outside.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ Cal muttered.

  Danny frowned as he stood up. Neither did he.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Danny stared into the dark alley that ran down the side of the Quarry.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ Cal said again.

  ‘Neither do I.’

  ‘Where does it lead?’

  Danny shrugged. ‘Down to the dock walls.’

  Cal peered into the darkness that seemed to have fallen quickly. ‘Anyone could be up there.’

  ‘We ain’t got much choice.’ Danny turned briefly to his friend. ‘Scrub that. I mean, this is my shout, Cal, not yours.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Cal dismissed. ‘So I clear out and leave you to it.’

  ‘My interests are at stake, not yours.’

  ‘You reckon?’ Cal said with amusement. ‘Hell’s bells, Danny, I haven’t had a good scrap since Adelaide.’

  Danny grinned, but the smile soon fell from his face when a shadow appeared, not ten feet away. It was too dark to see who he was, but Danny gauged he was a few inches smaller than either him or Cal.

  ‘Danny Flowers?’ The voice was deep, with an accent.

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘Who’s with you?’

  ‘My partner.’ Danny stepped a pace forward. ‘You got a problem with that, chum? If you have, the deal’s off.’ Danny knew this could be a trap. Cal was right, it didn’t feel good. ‘Listen, I’m after a straight trade. Your men for my cash.’

  Danny narrowed his eyes at the lean figure. He could see the man was roughly five ten, wearing a leather waistcoat like a smithy might. His arms were bare and muscular, his feet planted apart in working boots. By the light of the moon, Danny caught a glimpse of his face. Not one that instilled confidence, Danny thought as he studied the penetrating eyes that hadn’t left his for a second.

  Suddenly four more figures appeared. They stood barring the alley, with no way past.

  ‘I’ll take the two on the left,’ Cal breathed softly. And Danny nodded, sensing their gut instincts had been right. But before he had time to move one of the figures fell on him. The heavy weight was unexpected and Danny toppled back. A pair of arms encircled his chest and emptied the breath from his lungs. He looked into the man’s eyes, hidden under his tangled hair. A twisted smile stretched across his face.

  Danny gasped for air, his arms pinned to his side. He knew all that was left to him was his head. He brought it down hard on the bridge of the man’s nose. The bruiser let go and staggered back. Danny took the advantage and his first punch landed square on his opponent’s left eye.

  Danny knew he was lighter and quicker, and he ducked the clumsy return, stepping sideways, sending his boot hard into the man’s groin.

  ‘Behind you, Danny!’ Cal shouted from the darkness. But it was too late. An agonizing pain in the small of Danny’s back sent him sprawling. With no time to recover, he was hauled up by his collar and thrown the length of the alley. He spat blood as he looked up, the world going round in circles.

  He could hear Cal, but he couldn’t see him. Sweat was pouring into his eyes. There were grunts and groans and dull thuds all around him. Danny blinked hard and caught a movement in the corner of his eye. Somehow he managed to grab hold of an ankle and pull hard. The man fell, with a whoosh of air from his lungs. Danny climbed on top of him, punching and hoping he was doing some damage.

  ‘You all right, mate?’ Cal asked, breathing hard as Danny climbed shakily to his feet.

  ‘Yeah, just about.’ He saw a figure coming out of the shadows. Danny took out his hammer. The man screamed as the metal claws found his knuckles. He swung again, giving Cal time to recover.

  They fought then, any tactic they could dream up. Danny knew the odds were against them but he didn’t care now. It would be a fight to the last.

  ‘That’s enough,’ a voice said suddenly.

  Danny looked round. Out of the darkness walked one slim figure as the others melted into the night.

  Cal was panting hard beside him, his fists still raised.

  ‘Who are you?’ Danny demanded breathlessly. He spat the blood from his lips.

  ‘Just a man taking care of business.’

  ‘What kind of business is it when you beat up your own customer?’

  The man in the leather waistcoat laughed. ‘Sure, you’ve just had a sample of the merchandise. You know what you’re buying. Now we can deal.’

  Danny shook back his damp, bloodied hair. ‘Not until I have a name.’

  The figure shrugged. ‘How will Murphy do?’

  Danny pulled his jacket back into shape. ‘It’s a start.’

  ‘You don’t need to know any more.’

  ‘You’re Irish?’

  ‘And would you be having a problem with that?’

  ‘I don’t like being set up.’

  ‘What else did you expect?’ the man who called himself Murphy demanded. ‘Were you intending to inspect my soldiers like market heifers? No, fair’s fair, Mr Flowers. You know my men’s worth now. Your terms have been met. The goods tried and tested.’ Murphy cocked his head to one side.

  Danny studied what he could see of Murphy. Compact and upright, with short-cropped hair and a challenge in the way he held himself. He wasn’t a bruiser, nor did he sound an ignorant man. But one thing Danny knew for sure. Murphy had a fearsome reputation south of the river. If they were to cut a deal tonight, it was up to Danny to call the shots before Murphy did.

  ‘Let me look at them,’ Danny said. ‘I want to see what I’m buying.’

  Murphy laughed . ‘Haven’t you had enough of my boys?’

  ‘Do you want to trade or not?’

  ‘Have you brought the money?’

  Danny patted his pocket. ‘It’s here. And that’s where it’s going to stay until I’m satisfied.’

  Murphy lifted his hand and beckoned without look
ing back. The four men appeared and Danny glanced at Cal. A grin spread wide on Cal’s face as one of them, cupping his ear, wiped away the blood running down his neck.

  Danny made no pretence of enjoying the next few minutes. He would have liked to show his appreciation of being half crushed to death in a manner that befitted the occasion. But he was pleased to see the result of his and Cal’s handiwork. The four sweating, bruised faces glared back at him resentfully. He gave an unimpressed shrug and turned to Murphy. ‘Are these the best you have?’

  Again the Irishman laughed. ‘You won’t find better.’

  Now it was Danny’s turn to scoff. ‘You’d better be right about that.’

  Murphy stared at him. ‘Ah so, the man has balls.’

  ‘You didn’t come out of it so well yourself with Savage, I hear,’ Danny said and the Irishman was suddenly silent. ‘I need a crew that’s not going to duck out at the first sign of trouble.’

  Still the man said nothing. His swarthy skin and dark stubble, together with his penetrating gaze, gave him a presence. As Danny drew in a breath, Murphy stepped up to him. ‘Don’t be talking to me about Savage. The man is scum.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Be careful, Danny boy. You may be out of your depth.’

  ‘Were you?’ Danny felt the man’s breath on his face.

  Murphy said in a threatening whisper, ‘Stay out of my business. And I’ll stay out of yours.’

  ‘Suits me.’ Danny made him wait before he took out the money, drawing the wad of notes from his inside pocket with slow deliberation. Danny smiled to himself as the sound of hard cash rustled in the air.

  ‘I see you’re a man of your word,’ said Murphy agreeably.

  As Danny handed over the payment, he wondered if Murphy was.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ten days later and the shop was as secure as a fortress. Even Flo, who arrived on her bicycle on the bright May morning, had to agree that Lizzie, in the circumstances, had made the wisest decision.

  The week before, Lizzie had been shocked to find four burly young men on her doorstep. Danny introduced them as her new porters. He told her they would work in shifts. Two by night and two in the day.