children never shouted. The brother
absent from every family photograph.
She would do it. She would find him. It was a risk, a gamble, but one
she was prepared to take. She would tell no one of her plans, not even
Joe. She felt terrible about the deception, but she saw no other choice.
Joe was intractable on this issue. He saw her brother as a hard man, a
lost cause. But he wasn't, and when she'd found Charlie, when she'd
brought him back to them, Joe would see he'd been wrong. He would
forgive her for going against his wishes. Charlie didn't belong to the
dark underworld of wide boys and villains. He never had. He belonged to
her, and she would get him back. Somehow, some way, she would get him
back.
"Mrs. Bristow!" Mel bellowed, hurrying back up the stairs. "Carriage is out front! Driver's waiting!"
She got to her feet, still weak, but resolved.
"Are you ready, ma'am?" he asked, huffing and puffing up the stairs to help her.
She nodded. "Yes, Mel," she said. "I am."
Fiona realized she was still clutching the sixpence. She squeezed the
coin tightly, then put it in her pocket. She was a gambler, and this
time she would bet on Charlie.
Chapter 6
"Guv!" Frankie Betts yelled. "Guv, we're through!"
Sid Malone motioned for the lantern and shone it on the bricks. There
was a hole all right--he could see the pillars that held up the
Stronghold's roof through it--but it was only about a foot wide. Nowhere
near big enough.
"Ronnie, Oz, take over!" he barked. "Move!"
The sledgehammers changed hands. Ronnie and Oz smashed away while the
others, winded and sweating, picked up the shattered brick and loaded
it into empty crates. Sid looked at his pocketwatch. Half past twelve.
Only one more hour until O'Neill's boat docked. Only two until the tide
turned. If they weren't gone by then, they were done for.
"Des, where's the guard?" he asked, his voice on edge.
"Still outside having a gander at the wagons."
"The fat bastard," Sid swore. Earlier that night, he'd had two of his
men set fire to an abandoned warehouse a street away. As planned, the
blaze had drawn every watchman within a mile to battle it--every one but
this one. The man weighed twenty stone if he weighed a pound. It was
too much work for him to walk up a street to watch the fire, so he'd
settled for watching the fire brigade. He could come back inside any
minute, and that would complicate things. At least he couldn't hear the
noise they were making. The fire brigades were using the street that ran
in front of the wharf for access to the burning warehouse--as Sid had
known they would. Their bells and wagons made an unbelievable din.
"Oi! The rozzers!" Desi suddenly shouted.
Sid grabbed Ronnie's shirt and Oz's arm, nearly getting whacked with a sledgehammer.
"What is it?" Oz said, panting.
"Quiet!" Sid hissed. "Desi, what are they doing?"
"Testing the lock."
Sid felt every muscle in his body tighten.
"They've left it. They're talking to our fat little friend. That's it, be good lads now...."
"Des!"
"It's all right, guv. They're moving off."
Sid exhaled. With his next breath he grabbed Ozzie's hammer and
attacked the wall. Fear drove him. The muscles in his broad, bare chest
rippled and fiexed with every swing. Sweat ran off his body. The impact
of iron against brick sent painful shock waves up his arms, but he
barely felt them. It was taking too long. They'd never get out in time.
He saw Tom waving wildly at him and stopped swinging.
"Stop, guv, stop! It's enough. We're in."
Sid dropped the hammer. He was through the hole before Tom stopped
speaking. Five men followed, with Ozzie dragging the lantern. Desi
stayed behind in the London Wharf as sentry. Sid motioned for the
lantern now and shone it around the cavernous room. There was nothing
but roll upon roll of fabric. Heavy silks and brocades, all wrapped in
brown paper. No boxes, no crates.
"Frankie, we didn't
absent from every family photograph.
She would do it. She would find him. It was a risk, a gamble, but one
she was prepared to take. She would tell no one of her plans, not even
Joe. She felt terrible about the deception, but she saw no other choice.
Joe was intractable on this issue. He saw her brother as a hard man, a
lost cause. But he wasn't, and when she'd found Charlie, when she'd
brought him back to them, Joe would see he'd been wrong. He would
forgive her for going against his wishes. Charlie didn't belong to the
dark underworld of wide boys and villains. He never had. He belonged to
her, and she would get him back. Somehow, some way, she would get him
back.
"Mrs. Bristow!" Mel bellowed, hurrying back up the stairs. "Carriage is out front! Driver's waiting!"
She got to her feet, still weak, but resolved.
"Are you ready, ma'am?" he asked, huffing and puffing up the stairs to help her.
She nodded. "Yes, Mel," she said. "I am."
Fiona realized she was still clutching the sixpence. She squeezed the
coin tightly, then put it in her pocket. She was a gambler, and this
time she would bet on Charlie.
Chapter 6
"Guv!" Frankie Betts yelled. "Guv, we're through!"
Sid Malone motioned for the lantern and shone it on the bricks. There
was a hole all right--he could see the pillars that held up the
Stronghold's roof through it--but it was only about a foot wide. Nowhere
near big enough.
"Ronnie, Oz, take over!" he barked. "Move!"
The sledgehammers changed hands. Ronnie and Oz smashed away while the
others, winded and sweating, picked up the shattered brick and loaded
it into empty crates. Sid looked at his pocketwatch. Half past twelve.
Only one more hour until O'Neill's boat docked. Only two until the tide
turned. If they weren't gone by then, they were done for.
"Des, where's the guard?" he asked, his voice on edge.
"Still outside having a gander at the wagons."
"The fat bastard," Sid swore. Earlier that night, he'd had two of his
men set fire to an abandoned warehouse a street away. As planned, the
blaze had drawn every watchman within a mile to battle it--every one but
this one. The man weighed twenty stone if he weighed a pound. It was
too much work for him to walk up a street to watch the fire, so he'd
settled for watching the fire brigade. He could come back inside any
minute, and that would complicate things. At least he couldn't hear the
noise they were making. The fire brigades were using the street that ran
in front of the wharf for access to the burning warehouse--as Sid had
known they would. Their bells and wagons made an unbelievable din.
"Oi! The rozzers!" Desi suddenly shouted.
Sid grabbed Ronnie's shirt and Oz's arm, nearly getting whacked with a sledgehammer.
"What is it?" Oz said, panting.
"Quiet!" Sid hissed. "Desi, what are they doing?"
"Testing the lock."
Sid felt every muscle in his body tighten.
"They've left it. They're talking to our fat little friend. That's it, be good lads now...."
"Des!"
"It's all right, guv. They're moving off."
Sid exhaled. With his next breath he grabbed Ozzie's hammer and
attacked the wall. Fear drove him. The muscles in his broad, bare chest
rippled and fiexed with every swing. Sweat ran off his body. The impact
of iron against brick sent painful shock waves up his arms, but he
barely felt them. It was taking too long. They'd never get out in time.
He saw Tom waving wildly at him and stopped swinging.
"Stop, guv, stop! It's enough. We're in."
Sid dropped the hammer. He was through the hole before Tom stopped
speaking. Five men followed, with Ozzie dragging the lantern. Desi
stayed behind in the London Wharf as sentry. Sid motioned for the
lantern now and shone it around the cavernous room. There was nothing
but roll upon roll of fabric. Heavy silks and brocades, all wrapped in
brown paper. No boxes, no crates.
"Frankie, we didn't
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