The Potato Factory

'What on earth are you talking about, woman?' Sir Jasper leaned forward so that the front legs of his chair clunked to the floor. 'Whatever you're called, does it really matter?' He waved his cigar in the air. 'You are from the criminal classes and so your name, whatever it happens to be, spells thief, villain, ruffian, rascal! Solomons, Cohen, Levy, they all spell damned Israelite!

'Now, where was I? Oh yes, indeed! There is no possibility of a mistaken identity, I assure you, Mrs Solomons, and as to the other matter, I ca

Ha

'What? Do me a favour? On the evidence o' three tarts?' Ha

'Joking? Well no, not really,' Sir Jasper blew smoke towards the ceiling. 'Keeping a bawdy house is a perfectly indictable crime. But I'll grant you, madam, you do have a point, prostitutes make poor witnesses.' He glanced irritably at Ha

'If it's a 'igh-class establishment, never know who comes and goes, does ya?' Ha

'Yes, well, frankly you're right, it's not much to take before the bench.' He looked up at her and seemed for a moment to hesitate, then added, 'We also have a problem with the damned frog forger chappie we arrested in the basement of your husband's premises.'

'Oh, the geezer what's got the printer? What's the problem?'

Sir Jasper drew on his cigar and threw Ha

The Upper Marshal batted away the smoke from his eyes, looked at Ha

'Three tarts and a madam in the Old Bailey and a bludger what's deaf an' dumb, it ain't much to go with, is it then? I'll bet ya London to a brick that in ten minutes I can find you four tarts who'll swear on the 'Oly Bible, even swear on their dyin' muvver's 'ead, that yer forger geezer just recited the ten commandments personal to 'em, forwards and then backwards and finished it orf with a rendition of 'Andel's 'Allelujah Chorus, and this Van Summink's a Jew as well!'

'Well, yes, you might be right! What we need is someone or something else.'

'Ere, wait a mo!' Ha

'Well, no, not precisely.' He arched one of his magnificent eyebrows. 'That would simply be making five witnesses of a kind!' Sir Jasper's nose suddenly came alive again, delighted at the tartness of this last remark. 'As you so wisely observed, women of your vocation will swear to anything on the heads of their dying loved ones.' He pulled at his cigar, satisfied that he had once again achieved the upper hand.

Ha

Sir Jasper shot upright, the legs of the chair hitting the floor with a crack. 'Madam!'

To Ha

He waited for a reaction from Ha

Sir Jasper waited, removed the cigar from his mouth and examined it at arm's length. Ha

Curiously, it did not occur to her to blame the smug little knight for her predicament. Nor did she recall that it was she who had persuaded a reluctant Ikey to employ Abraham Van Esselyn. All she could think was that it was Ikey who had once again caused her downfall. He had absconded and left her as his hostage. He had betrayed her with a whore and robbed her of a prize which was rightfully hers. Come what may, she would make him pay! She would not take a moment's punishment for the miserable, sodding shit.

'I should remind you that you will never see your darling children again,' Sir Jasper added. 'What do you say to that, Mrs Solomons?'

Ha

Sir Jasper, now also smiling, leaned a little closer and placed his hand on her knee.

'Well done, my dear, how very sensible of you. I feel sure we can come to some satisfactory arrangement, what?'

Ha

'Why, madam, that's preposterous! Simply unthinkable!'

'Why?' Ha

'Justice, there must be justice! Good God, woman, where would we be if we simply let our hardened criminals escape to other societies. What would they think of the English?'

'They probably don't think all that much of 'em as it is,' Ha

'Balderdash! There's not a civilised man on earth who doesn't wish he was an Englishman! An arranged escape? Unthinkable and positively unpatriotic!'

Ha