Dodger (32 page)

‘You ain't touching her again,' I told him. ‘That's all over.'

Jem lashed out, punching me under the jaw. All of the rage and fear he must have been feeling was in that punch and I crashed back against the wall. His hands was round my throat and his blood-rushed face was nose to nose with mine.

‘You going to stop me, are ya?' he snarled, teeth bared. ‘Well, who's gonna stop me from choking you?'

A blade had appeared at his throat. His hands released me and he looked to who was holding it. ‘No,' said Warrigal. ‘Need him.'

‘Look, look, look,' said Georgie. He was holding up his arms as if to calm us all but his hands was shaking. ‘This don't matter none. Fanny's safe. She loves me – I've promised her a baby and everything. She'd never blow on us, you'll see. In a couple of days' time we'll be sat in here laughing and wondering why we was all getting so worked up. You'll see.'

Outside a child's voice shouted something. We could not hear what it was, it came from the far end of the street, but we all turned to listen. Then another voice shouting the same word, closer this time, like a warning. A third voice now, a woman's, screeching it as loud as she could. And this time we heard it as clear as though she was the town crier. The sound of hoofs thundering down this crooked lane could be heard and the
clack-clack-clack
of many wooden rattles. A chorus of voices then, from every window of the rookery, all ringing out with that same dreaded word.

‘
PEELERS!
'

We all dashed to the window and looked down upon the street and saw, to our great horror, two enormous police vans drawn by the strongest horses this lane had ever seen. The vehicles was crammed full of constables, three each on every box-seat and others clinging to the sides of the carriages, twirling their wooden rattles
to alert us. The leading carriage had already reared its horses up just below us on the opposite side of the street and from out of the back leapt a dozen more of these tall formidable men in their long dark blue coats and top hats. They all pulled out their wooden truncheons from within the long-pockets of their tailcoats and began swarming around every door below, as if prepared to burst through all of them. At the reins of the second carriage, what had reared up close behind, was the tallest of the peelers. He was the first to look up to the window from which our six faces peered down. Inspector Bracken, looking more fearsome than ever in his brass-buttoned uniform, stood up taller than the rest and pointed towards us.

‘That's the house, men,' he boomed to the others. ‘Force entry if it is not granted freely!'

We jumped away from the window in wild fear. We could not have been any more terrified if we had seen hungry wolves prowling down below. It was Jem and Georgie that was in mortal danger, true, but there was not one of us that wanted the peelers asking us questions. Ruby and Greta was the least likely to be grabbed by the police – any stolen items found in the place could be blamed on the men – but it was not good for myself and Warrigal to be caught there. Bracken already hated me and if he could find any reason to poke his nose into my business then he would. The police was villains, we all knew that, and if the inspector could grab four men for a crime what only two committed I was sure the whole force would congratulate him.

‘The cellar!' said Jem, and darted down the steps with Georgie close behind. I told Warrigal that we should go too. I knew from my dealings with Bill Sikes that this underground room was our only chance, and the four of us scrambled down the staircase towards it. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, and passed the
front door, there was heavy thumping from behind it and Bracken's voice called through.

‘Open up this door, Mr White!' he ordered. ‘Or we shall be forced to break it down!'

We ran towards a small door under the staircase and Jem turned the rusty key what was there in the lock. ‘We'll need candles,' he panted as the door opened up to reveal stone stairs leading down to nowhere but cobwebs and blackness. There was a table in the hall close by and he opened a drawer with many tallow candles and cleft sticks inside and handed them out to us. ‘Lights,' he called out, most frantic. ‘Gerrus a light, someone.'

‘Fetch the battery!' shouted the voice from outside.

Ruby came scurrying down the stairs with a candle in a stick, her hand held over its flame so it would not blow out before she reached us. ‘You're a rotten gang of villains,' she said as she lit each of ours, ‘but I swear I won't split on you.'

‘You better not,' warned Jem, and he vanished down into the cellar as soon as his was alight.

‘They've got this great big battering ram!' shouted Greta, who was still watching the outside action from above. ‘A huge iron thing,' she cried. ‘Pulled it out of the van.' Her voice sounded as though she had never before seen such fun. Georgie's candle was soon lit and then Warrigal's and they both followed after Jem.

‘I'll lock the door after you,' said Ruby as she lit mine last, ‘and hide the key.'

‘Thanks,' I said. And before I went I had to do one last thing. I kissed her again with some passion. She pulled away.

‘Not
now
,' she said and shoved me through the tiny door. ‘Go!'

I stepped down into that dark, damp cellar and saw the three others was lighting the candles what hung from clay walls. It was a foul-smelling place and I wondered if Jem had been keeping
rotten meat down there. Just as she was shutting the door Ruby hesitated.

‘Don't get caught,' I heard her say to me. Jem heard it too and looked up to her from where he was crouching by the wall.

‘I don't mean to, you stupid mare,' he shouted up. ‘Just shut the door.'

‘
Chaarrrggge!
' we heard from above as Ruby shut us in and turned the key.

Then there was a smash so loud that it seemed to rock the very foundations of the place and I wondered if the whole house was going to collapse upon us. Dust and dirt fell from the ceiling of the cellar and Warrigal began coughing again. ‘Here it is,' said Jem, who had been searching for something at the base of one wall. ‘Give us a better glim, Georgie.' Georgie held his candle down to reveal a hole of two feet square what led into the neighbouring cellar.

Above us we could here the raised voices of the peelers. Their footsteps was hammering up and down the stairs to where Greta was, and Ruby could be heard crying out in protest at the invasion. Georgie went to stick his head through the hole but Jem pulled him back. ‘Wait your turn,' he said, and crawled through, candle first.

‘Open that cellar,' Bracken could be heard shouting. ‘Where's the key?'

Georgie followed Jem, Warrigal went next and, as I began to crawl my own way through, I could hear the police trying to break in the door of the cellar behind me. By the time I was through and into the next cellar, what stunk even fouler than the one we had just escaped from, Jem was across at the other side, looking for another hole. Georgie and Warrigal was holding on to the walls with one hand and their candles with the other, edging
their way towards him. It was as I had remembered from visiting this area in Bill's day. All of the houses in this part of Bethnal Green was connected to one another by hidden passages such as these.

‘Stay away from the middle,' Georgie said to us as Jem crawled through the next one. ‘There's a cesspool.' That explained the stench, although I could see nothing there. It was pitch black in this cellar, save for our four candles as we inched our way towards the hole. ‘If anyone follows us,' Georgie said, before ducking his head through it, ‘they'll step straight in that with any luck.'

I doubted this. I thought it unlikely, once the peelers had forced open the cellar door and realised where we had gone, that any of them would pursue further. Should they risk climbing head first through a hole what led from one dark room to the next, they would be placing themselves at the mercy of men whom they knew to be capable of murder, what might be standing over the other side, club in hand. More probable would be that they would charge around to front of the houses and try to be there waiting outside the right one once we emerged from our rat holes. We could not stay down here for long.

We moved through two more such cellars, what Georgie assured us was used by like-minded individuals what would be sympathetic to our plight. Then, at the fourth, the door above the stairs swung open just as Jem was about to pass through another hole. We started in fright and looked towards it. A rectangle of light shone into the dark room and a long shadow of a man was cast across it. The man spoke and I was surprised by how high his voice was.

‘There's a window upstairs,' he squeaked, ‘leads out on to the rooftops!' He stepped closer and we was all right relieved to see a child reveal himself, about nine years of age and lit from behind.
‘Mother ain't in,' he went on. ‘She's outside yours, gawping at the peelers.'

I was the first up the steps and I patted him on the head. ‘You're a good boy,' I said as I passed into his house. I saw that even if the peelers had worked out what we was doing by now, they still had not made it to this door. ‘What's your name?'

‘Scratcher.'

‘Well, Scratcher,' I said as my three associates tumbled out behind me into the narrow corridor, ‘it's lads like you what've made this great country what it is today. Now where's this window of yourn?'

The window was in an attic bedroom. It backed out on to the houses behind and, once up there, I pushed the pane up and stuck my head out. It was true that we could reach up to the rooftops, but only by climbing on to a row of large spike nails what stuck out from this house and then by reaching up to another row of spikes what stuck out of the next house along. These nails had a small plank of wood rested on them what would act as a ledge and from there it would be easy to hoist yourself up to the roof beyond. There was a gap between the two houses though, down what it would be easy to fall.

‘Looks a bit dangerous,' said Georgie. We was high up enough where, if we was to slip and plummet, the fall might not be fatal but bones would be broken and capture was assured. ‘Maybe we should jump down.'

‘And break our legs?' snarled Jem.

‘Me uncle stuck them in good and strong,' said Scratcher. ‘I get up there all the time.'

‘You ain't as heavy as us,' said Jem.

Just then the sound of a woman's voice was heard entering the house below. She was telling someone not to shove and then some heavy footsteps could be heard charging in. Quicker than a blink,
Warrigal was out through the window and on to the spikes. We watched as he stepped from those to the row across and jumped upwards on to the ledge of the flat roof. I wasted no time in following him.

‘Tell 'em we overpowered you,' I said to Scratcher as I ducked my head through his window and stepped on to the spikes. Warrigal had made it look simpler than it was though and Georgie had been right about the height. Below was a narrow alley and we was two floors up. The spikes themselves was lethal things and as I jumped from one row to the next I feared the plank what rested along them would snap. I did not linger there for long however and was up on the roof in time to see Warrigal springing from that one to the next away from me. I turned to see how the others was doing. Georgie was the next to dare it and he was stepping out on to the first row of spikes. I wondered why Scratcher's uncle could not have rested a wider plank of wood across both of them. It was obvious he had put them there for a situation such as this when the timing was most crucial.

‘They're in the cellar!' said Jem from behind him. ‘We ain't got long before they come up here. Move your fat arse.'

Georgie jumped from those spikes to the next but he did it so clumsy he nearly fell. I grabbed his arms and pulled him up from the untrustworthy plank but, as I was doing this, I heard the sounds of wooden rattles being clacked in the alley below. Three peelers was down there.

‘Up there!' yelled one, pointing up at us. ‘Alert the inspector.'

Georgie made it to the roof and took off after Warrigal. ‘Jem!' I urged as he climbed out of the window. ‘Hurry yourself.' Jem looked petrified and he just stood on the spikes not daring to look down as the peelers below shouted to him to give himself up. More peelers was pouring into the alley and it was only a matter
of time before the ones in the house made it up to Scratcher's window. ‘Now!' I shouted. He looked up at me with real fear in his eyes.

‘I don't want to hang, Jack,' he said. ‘Dear God, don't let me hang.'

‘You ain't going to hang, Jem,' I promised him. ‘But you need to jump quick. Here –' I held my hand out to him. ‘I'll catch you. Just like I caught Georgie. Trust me.'

Jem nodded and reached his own hand out. But he stumbled and the jump was not made clean. He cried out in shock and slipped off the plank but not without grabbing a jutting spike with his hands. I grabbed his hand to help yank him up, but as I did this I could see many more peelers swarming into the alley below. I strained to pull him, as it looked like he still stood a chance, but he was heavier than me and it was not easy.

‘Don't let me drop, Dodger,' Jem was pleading. ‘Don't leave me.' I kept pulling but from down below I could hear Bracken barking orders.

‘That's our man,' he told his constables. ‘Ready yourselves to catch him.'

Bracken had not yet spotted that I was there and I did not want him to. Jem, with a bit more help, could still make it up as his left hand was clutching on to the rooftop, but the longer I stayed with him the more the chances was of getting caught myself. And then I remembered the bruise on Ruby's cheek.

‘It ain't far down, Jem,' I said, and pulled away from him. ‘They'll catch you.'