'The money? In me 'ouse? You must be completely barmy, that makes me guilty too, don't it?' Hannah cried. 'Complicity in 'elping to conceal stolen goods? I ain't as meshuggah as I may look, ya know!'
'I have already given you our assurance as an officer of the law and a gentleman on that matter, madam.'
Hannah laughed. 'With the greatest respect, sir, what 'appens if ya drop dead? When I'm standin' in the dock in the Old Bailey and the judge passes sentence on me, what am I goin' to say? Oi! That's not fair, yer worship! Him, what's the Upper Whatsit, told me I 'ad 'is personal guarantee as a gentleman and officer o' the law that I can't be nicked!' Hannah rose indignantly from her chair and placed her hands on her hips. 'Ha! The bleedin' judge will think I've gorn soft in the bloomin'
'ead, and 'e'd be right too, allowin' counterfeit money to be found in me own 'ouse.'
Hannah sat down again, huffing and snorting. She needed a moment to think, for she had a secondary reason for not wanting the police to raid her White-chapel home. Though well concealed in the false ceiling under the floor of her bedroom, the house contained goods of great value. There was also the matter of the safe. The City police were an entirely different kettle of fish to the usual, dim-witted magistrates' runners. Hannah didn't want to take the chance that in the bogus search for the counterfeit banknotes, this too might be discovered.
Sir Jasper was visibly growing impatient. 'You will have to trust me, madam!' he said sharply.
'It ain't a matter o' trust, sir. It's a matter o' natural caution, a matter of survival. I wouldn't trust me own rabbi from shoppin' me if 'e was to find counterfeit money in me 'ouse! Stands to reason, don't it? In the eyes o' the law, Ikey and me, we'd both be guilty!' She paused and smiled at the police officer. 'May I suggest summink more appropriate?'
The Upper Marshal banged his fist down hard upon the table. 'No, madam, you may not! I hardly think a woman of your background could improve on our methodicals! This plan is the work of experienced officers, it requires no alteration, being quite perfect as it is!' He folded his arms across his chest and glowered at Hannah in a most imperious manner.
Hannah remained silent until she gauged that Sir Jasper's exasperation had somewhat calmed, then she persisted. '
'Is coat. Sew the money in the linin' o' his coat, then nick 'im on the street, away from 'ome, away from me and the young 'uns!'
The police officer, despite his irritability, looked up at her in surprise. 'I say, do you think you could do that?' Then he rested his chin on his chest and mused, as though to himself, 'Lining of his coat? Caught red-handed with the money on his person, in his possession?' He looked up and smiled at Hannah. 'By, Jove, that's perfectly splendid! No way of wriggling out of that, eh?' Sir Jasper rubbed his hands gleefully together, completely mollified. 'Perfect! Why, it's quite, quite perfect, m'dear!'
'Not so perfect, already!' Hannah scowled. '
'E don't ever take 'is coat orf, not never and not particular never at this time, when the weather is inclement and comin' up to Christmas.' She cocked her head and thought for a moment, 'On the other 'and, if 'e don't ever take orf 'is coat… ' she paused, thinking again, 'then the only person what would 'ave put the money there is 'isself, ain't that right, then?'
Sir Jasper clapped his hands in delight. 'I say, that's damn clever, m'dear! Capital, how very wise of you!'
Hannah knew the task of apprehending Ikey away from home would be a most difficult one. Ikey's mode of travel through the rookeries was nocturnal and shadowy, never tiring in the task of concealment. No magistrates' runner or Bank of England law officer could ever hope to follow him, or even dare to enter those parts where his crepuscular fellow creatures engaged in business with him.
Ikey's coat was a very elusive target and the more she thought about it the less confident she was that such a scheme could be made to work. But with the knowledge that all the stolen property concealed in her White-chapel home would come into her possession while she was, so to speak, under the protection of the law, Hannah possessed a powerful additional incentive to succeed.
'When will ya let me 'ave the false finnies, sir? I needs no more than two.'
'Finnies? Oh, you mean the five pound notes? You shall have them promptly on the morrow.'
'In the afternoon, if ya please. I needs me beauty sleep!' Hannah smiled and then, with one eyebrow slightly arched and her head cocked to one side, her expression coquettish, 'Perhaps you would like to bring 'em y'self, sir?'
Sir Jasper Waterlow's complexion turned a sudden deep purple and his nose began to twitch alarmingly. Avoiding Hannah's eyes he gathered up his top hat from the table and moved towards the door where he paused, and slid the slender fingers of his left hand into a bright yellow leather glove. He was quite exhausted and in urgent need of a stiff brandy.
His expression now somewhat composed, he looked directly at Hannah. 'I shall require you to wait five minutes before leaving,' he grunted, then added, 'I should also be very careful not to lose the five pound notes I shall send you. It would be most difficult to convince me that such a calamity was honestly come about.' He pulled the second glove on and glanced briefly at Hannah from under the rim of his top hat. 'Though, of course, in such an event, we do have others.' Then he touched the brim of his hat. 'Good day to you, Mrs Solomons,' Sir Jasper said and, passing through the doorway, closed the door behind him.
Hannah smiled. She could hear the clatter of his mincing high-heeled steps in the hallway and then the silence as he stopped to retrieve his cloak from the proprietor, then a few more steps as he departed the Blue Wren. 'That's gratitude for ya,' she said to herself. 'But that one will be back soon enough for a good spankin' from 'is adorable nanny, nothin' surer.'
Not long after this meeting, Hannah once again summoned Bob Marley. He was surprised to be contacted by Hannah so soon after it would have been apparent that he had duped her in the matter of the raid on the premises in Bell Alley. Hannah was not known for her forgiving nature. Marley was therefore understandably suspicious at her openly friendly manner. She sat him in the parlour where a bright fire blazed and where she had laid out a single glass and fresh bottle of brandy with a plate of oat cakes.
Apart from his initial greeting Bob Marley remained silent, pouring himself a large glass of brandy and helping himself to a couple of the cakes.
'It weren't nice what ya done, Bob Marley,' Hannah began. 'Takin' advantage of a poor woman what was 'elpless.'
Marley, with a mouth full of cake, stopped chewing and rose from his chair as though to leave. 'No, don't go!' Hannah added hastily, smiling. 'We got things to talk about what could be to yer advantage.'
Bob Marley swallowed the cake in his mouth and took a gulp of brandy to wash it down. 'It were you who called me, remember? All I done was take advantage of a situation what was not o' me makin'!' He was still holding the glass and, bringing it up to his lips, paused. 'It would 'ave been unprofessional not to 'ave done what I did. People might 'ave thought I was losin' me grip o' things!'
Hannah refrained from reminding him that there was only herself involved. When she thought about it, she supposed she too would have thought less of him if he hadn't exploited such an opportunity to benefit from her predicament. It was this very self-serving aspect of Bob Marley's nature which she now wished to use to her advantage.
'I needs a job done, no questions asked,' Hannah said finally.
Marley gave her a bemused look. 'There's always questions, lovey.'
'What I means is, I don't want to talk about me motives, I wants ya to accept 'em, no questions asked.'
'No questions costs more money, it means I can't measure the exact amount o' risk involved.'