Cat Among the Pigeons (16 page)

The duchess frowned. ‘What do you think, Frankie?'

Frank chewed his bottom lip. ‘It's a very large staff we have, Mama. I don't know all of
them. It would be risky. Cat's probably safer here for the moment.'

‘What a shame.' The duchess touched one of my curls tenderly. ‘You know, it rather suits you cropped. Long hair can be such a bore. I always prefer a wig – so much more convenient – but that's a secret best kept between you, me and the hairdresser.' With that, she rose to her feet and kissed me on the brow. ‘I was almost forgetting – here's your parcel from Lizzie. What would you like me to do with it?'

‘Can you give it to Frank to take up to my room? It had better not stay here. If someone opened it, I'd have some very awkward questions to answer.'

His mother gone, Frank finally met my eyes.

‘Dammit, Cat, can't you keep out of trouble for five minutes?' he said. Though he sounded angry, I knew he was just furious with himself for failing to protect me.

‘You know me, Frank. If there's trouble anywhere on hand, I'll walk right into it. Us
runty fellows seem to attract it like magnets – even Mrs Clough said so.'

‘Runty! I never said you were runty. I may have implied you were a bit undersized, but that's not surprising –'

‘What was it Milly said yesterday?' I interrupted. ‘When you're in a hole, stop digging?'

Frank smiled, recognizing the justice of my remark.

‘I'm sorry I wasn't there, Cat.'

‘And I'm sorry I was. Try to stop Charlie doing anything stupid in retaliation, won't you? Richmond might be a valuable source of information on Pedro. I wouldn't want his mouth permanently shut in some misguided attempt to avenge me.'

Frank nodded and chucked me under the chin in parting. ‘Chin up, Tom Cat. You're certainly playing the part properly. Now you've been beaten black and blue, no one can say you didn't experience the full delights of boyhood.'

SCENE 2 – BILLY SHEPHERD RETURNS

Charlie was waiting with me outside the headmaster's office. I had been called in to explain how I had been rendered unconscious.

‘What would a boy say?' I whispered to Charlie. ‘Would he tell?'

‘Lord no, Cat. Your life will be hell if you are thought to have snitched. You leave Richmond and his crew to us boys. You should say something like you “tripped” or you “fell down the stairs”.'

‘But Mr Castleton saw them.'

‘Yes, but the teachers don't expect you to tell either. They'd think the worse of you if you did.'

‘This is silly. What's the point of having schoolmasters if they have no control over their boys?'

‘They have control – but it's selective.'

‘Hengrave Junior?' Dr Vincent appeared at the door, tapping his cane on his leg. ‘Come in.'

Feeling like a prisoner walking to the gallows,
I entered his study. It was a warm, book-lined room with a view over the street outside. I could hear the carriages rattling by and the call of the hot chestnut seller in the Abbey Yard.

‘Explain!' he barked.

‘I slipped on some ice, sir,' I said quietly.

‘Speak up! I'm not as young as I was.'

‘I slipped on some ice, sir.'

He looked at me from under his bushy brows, a smile hovering on his lips. I realized that he knew exactly what had happened to me. ‘That was very stupid of you.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Well, don't do it again or I'll have to flog you for your carelessness, understood?'

‘Yes, sir.' That was the final absurdity. I was to be flogged if I got beaten up again. He knew I couldn't help it, but no matter.

‘And I've written to your mother to tell her that you met with . . . with an accident that kept you off lessons for three days. Make sure you work hard to catch up.'

‘My mother?' I croaked.

‘Yes, boy. Who else do you expect me to write to? The Archbishop of Canterbury? Dismissed!'

I stumbled from the room and broke the news to Charlie: a letter was winging its way to Dublin to a bemused Lady Hengrave.

He grimaced. ‘That gives us about a week, I'd say. Lord, Tom will be surprised to hear he's missed lessons before he even started them.'

Now the end of my stay in Westminster School had been sighted, I went up to my room to check the necessary items for my escape plan. Lizzie had been as good as her word: they were all there, waiting for the right occasion. The first sign of news from Ireland and Tom Cat would be gone.

Chops arrived on Friday night without us sending for them. Their bringer, Syd, had come to tell us how the search for Pedro was progressing. He also brought other, stranger news. But first he had to do what he usually did: take me to task like a big brother who always thinks he
knows best. The prompt was seeing the fading bruises on my face.

‘What's 'appened to you, Cat?' he said, pulling me closer as he made a quick inspection of all exposed areas of skin. ‘Right, that's it. This ends 'ere and now. I'm takin' you back with me.'

‘Back where, Syd?' I asked grimly. ‘You're forgetting that if I go with you, I'll end up in gaol by tomorrow.'

He brushed this minor detail aside. ‘You've been gettin' in fights, ain't you, Cat? I know you – you can't keep your temper five minutes. You let your big mouth run away with you. I should never've left you 'ere.'

‘Cat's not been
picking
fights,' said Frank, leaping to my defence. ‘She's being
picked
on. A gang of boys decided to kick her unconscious for their own amusement.'

Syd's reaction was predictable. I braced for the volcanic eruption that I knew would follow Frank's indiscreet remark.

‘Where are they? Let me at 'em! Their own
mothers won't recognize them when I've finished.' He rounded on Frank. ‘And where were you when our Cat was bein' done over, eh?' He took Frank by the lapels and pushed him up against the wall. I'd never seen Syd so angry. ‘I trusted you to look after 'er!'

‘Syd, listen,' I said, trying to pull him away, but I might as well have attempted to move a mountain. ‘He was out searching for Pedro. He couldn't have done anything anyway. There were too many of them.'

Syd let go of Frank, still shaking with rage. Slowly, he began to calm down. ‘Sorry, Frank. I got a bit carried away.'

‘I understand, Syd,' said Frank, tucking in his shirt. He had the rumpled look of someone who had been out in a strong wind. ‘I felt bad about it too when I got back. So did Charlie. They jumped her when she was on her own. But don't worry about them. We'll sort them out when the time's right.'

‘Is that a promise?' asked Syd. Frank nodded.

‘Let me know if me and the boys can 'elp.'

‘I will.'

Syd turned to me and, with a hesitant gesture, stroked my hair. ‘So are you all right, Cat?'

‘I've been better but I'll live. The worst part is that the headmaster has written to Charlie's mother, so I have to find somewhere else to hide.'

Syd scratched his head. ‘I could ask one of my boxin' chums if they could find a place for you.'

‘Don't worry about me: I've got a plan.'

‘Of course I worry about you, Cat. What do you expect? I s'pose you're not goin' to tell us what this plan of yours is?'

I smiled. ‘How did you guess?'

‘You 'ave a shifty look when you're tryin' to keep a secret. I've seen it before.' Syd had surprised me. I had always thought him a bit slow to notice these things. ‘As long as it's not dangerous, I don't think I want to know.'

‘No, it's not dangerous. In fact, I'm probably heading for the safest place in England.'

Syd gave me another appraising look then nodded. ‘All right. I trust you. You always seem to land on your feet so I've no reason to think you won't this time.'

Charlie and Syd took this as the signal that Syd had calmed down and was safe to approach. Frank sat Syd in the best armchair, I took the footstool, while Charlie and Frank shared the bench which they dragged to the fireside.

‘So what's the news about Pedro?' Frank asked.

‘Well, that's the rum thing. It's why I come this evenin'. Joe finally caught up with Blind Bob this mornin' but only 'cos Bob 'ad a message for 'im. That fleabag, Billy Shepherd, wants to speak to me. 'E says 'e 'as information about our Prince. Boil's asked me to bring the boys to the Pantheon on Oxford Street tonight.'

‘What? For a fight? But the Pantheon's a ballroom!' exclaimed Charlie.

Syd shook his head. ‘Nah, not for a fight – not that we wouldn't be ready for one if 'e offers – but to talk – man to man, 'e said.' He leaned
forward, lowering his voice. ‘I've 'eard that the Pantheon's on the slide – no longer the place it was. Rumour 'as it that Shepherd bought a stake in it.'

‘Don't tell me – he's expanding his operations westwards,' I said with a groan. ‘And who said that crime doesn't pay? That'll be a big step up from ruling the roost in the Rookeries.'

‘That's right, Cat. Shepherd's got a lot of money from somewhere lately – and he's been buyin' into businesses left, right and centre. Not in Covent Garden, of course.' Syd gave a proud smile. ‘'E 'asn't tried it on there, knowin' what I'd do to 'im if 'e put a foot into my patch.'

‘And do you believe him – I mean, believe that he knows something about Pedro?'

Syd nodded. ‘Stands to reason, don't it? I'd wager my next boxin' purse on Pedro still bein' in London. Shepherd might well know where 'e is.'

‘So, you're going to meet him?'

‘Course. Got the boys waitin' for me – we're
goin' in style. But there's just one thing that's botherin' me.'

‘What's that?'

‘'E's asked me to bring you along too.' Syd sat back and looked at me, one eyebrow raised sceptically. ‘What d'you think of that?'

I was as suspicious as he was. Shepherd hated my guts. ‘It must be a trap.'

‘That's what I thought, but Shepherd sent me this as proof 'e's straight.' Syd took out a leather bag from his pocket and placed it on the table. I opened the string and saw that it was full of guineas.

‘There must be one hundred pounds in there!' I shook my head in disbelief.

‘Yeah, Cat. It's a kind of ransom for you. If 'e tricks us, 'e forfeits this.'

Did Billy Shepherd hate me enough to lose a hundred pounds on me? I wondered. I doubted it. Billy loved money more than his own mother.

‘And there's somethink else. 'E swore that 'e wouldn't tell us nothink unless you came to the
meetin'.' Syd prodded the coins. ‘What d'you think, Cat?'

‘I don't know. I don't trust him.'

‘Course not. 'E knows that.'

‘She mustn't go,' said Frank quickly. ‘It smells bad to me.'

‘Stinks to 'igh 'eaven,' agreed Syd. ‘But what about Prince? We'll 'ave all the boys there – we're more than a match for Shepherd's gang of squealers and any runners that 'e might invite along. We can get 'er away if there's trouble.'

I knew I didn't really have any choice – I would never forgive myself if we passed up this chance to find Pedro. Billy probably knew that too.

‘Of course I'll come,' I said. ‘Can I borrow your cloak, Frank?'

‘But I'm coming as well,' he said.

‘So am I,' declared Charlie.

‘The more the merrier, as far as I'm concerned,' said Syd.

‘But I still need a cloak – something to hide me from curious eyes.'

‘My guess is,' said Syd, rubbing his chin, ‘that's what this is all about. 'E knows you're in trouble and wants a chance to crow.'

Frank handed me his spare cloak.

‘You may be right,' I said, throwing it on and pulling up the hood. ‘And if I were him, I'd probably want the chance myself, seeing how we parted on such good terms when last we met.'

Syd's boys were lounging outside the Pantheon, waiting for their leader. The gang had grown since I last saw it gathered in one place. The ranks had been swelled by a score of heavily built, large-fisted individuals – chums from the boxing ring, Syd explained. I wondered how many of them had pledged their allegiance to my friend after being floored by his formidable right hook – quite a few from the evidence of their squashed noses.

Syd gave them a brief inspection. They were all turned out in their best as if ready for a night on the town. Syd brushed off the lapels of his
own claret jacket – a new purchase in honour of the occasion, I guessed. Leading a gang was all about commanding respect. Syd did not want to fall short in his boys' eyes when meeting his rival. Though from the sound of it, Billy Shepherd was promoting himself into another league altogether, far from his roots in the small beer of controlling a market. Syd had been made the uncrowned king of Covent Garden because he was well liked by his fellow shopkeepers and stall-holders and trusted to exercise his own brand of rough justice in a reasonably fair manner. Billy had always been more interested in what he could get for himself and had been trusted by no one.