'Mrs Solomons, we have the luxury of a choice – we can either offer your husband's mistress an incentive to co-operate with our enquiries or you may, with some little encouragement, decide to… er… help.'
'Beg pardon, sir, me 'usband ain't got no mistress! 'E ain't the sort. All along I been thinkin' you must 'ave the wrong man, now I'm certain in me own mind.' She smiled ingenuously, her eyes bright from recent tears. 'Maybe the person what yer looking for is Solomons. Common as dirt, they is, everywhere! We is Solomon, no "s". Me darlin'
'usband is very particular on that point, you see it means summink entirely different, it's not so kosher with an "s". Cohen is priests, Levy also, but Solomon, that's yer actual royalty, that is! That's yer Royal 'Ighness, yer genuine King Solomon, ya know the geezer what met the Queen o' Sheba? 'E wasn't called King Solomons, was 'e now? Nobody ain't never 'eard o' the wisdom o' Solomons, 'as they?'
'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 cannot vouchsafe that your husband is paramour to Egyptian Mary. But that she is his tenant we have from the woman's own lips. She has confessed, in a signed statement, that she rents the premises in Bell Alley from Isaac Solomons. Three of her strumpets have also made statements to the effect that your husband is a part owner, quite sufficient evidence to get him apprehended for allowing a bawdy house on the premises he owns or, even more compelling, being in partnership with another in this tawdry business.'
Hannah knew now with certainty that Ikey had betrayed her. She knew that Ikey would never simply rent out premises for a brothel without owning the larger part of the enterprise. Her first impulse was to feel an absolute fool, but then a darker anger rose within her. With great effort she fought it down and forced herself to concentrate on what the policeman was saying, though she was unable to control her rising voice, her venom turned to scorn.
'What? Do me a favour? On the evidence o' three tarts?' Hannah threw back her head and laughed. 'Even if me 'usband was convicted, which ain't likely, with a sharp counsellor 'e'd get no more than a drag. What good's a three month sentence gunna do ya? Ya must be jokin', sir?'
'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 Hannah, suddenly deciding to take her into his confidence. 'It's damned messy really, not the sort of stuff the bank goes in for as a rule.'
'If it's a 'igh-class establishment, never know who comes and goes, does ya?' Hannah said cheekily, then added, 'Could be dodgy, knows what I mean?' She paused, once again in control of her emotions. Her anger, now well bedded down, would keep for another time. 'So what's ya want from me? Can't rightly see 'ow I can 'elp ya.'
'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 Hannah a dark look. He appeared to be thinking, his eyes narrowed, his head only half visible in a miasma of cigar smoke. 'Unfortunately he's deaf and dumb!'
The Upper Marshal batted away the smoke from his eyes, looked at Hannah and smiled, seeming for a moment genuinely amused. 'Ideal for a man of his occupation, eh? Most decidely nimble of hand and eye, though deaf and dumb. Not much chop in the witness box, though.'
'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!' Hannah, astonished, exclaimed. 'Yer not askin' me to invent evidence against me 'usband, is ya?'
'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.
Hannah's hidden frustration at the news of Ikey's betrayal suddenly overwhelmed her sense of caution. She wanted to bite back and Sir Jasper was available. 'It takes a whore to know one! Whore's ain't only of one sex!'
Sir Jasper shot upright, the legs of the chair hitting the floor with a crack. 'Madam!'
To Hannah's surprise, after this single admonishment, Sir Jasper returned his chair to its former two-legged position and smiled, a small secret smile. With the sharpness quite gone from his voice he said, 'I'm grateful we've reached common ground at last, madam. Down to brass tacks, eh? I was hoping we might not have to raise the matter of the five, or is it six brothels you own?' His voice grew suddenly sharper again. 'Correctly prosecuted, you should receive more than a drag or even a stretch, transportation, fourteen years at the very least, Botany Bay or perhaps Van Diemen's Land.'
He waited for a reaction from Hannah and when none was forthcoming he cleared his throat and continued, 'Why, madam, such would seem the only possible sentence. You shall have fourteen years to regret your lack of co-operation! Do you not think you ought to think upon this? Or is your loyalty and affection to Mr Solomons of such a purity that you would protect him at the cost of a dark, rat-infested prison at the other end of the world for much of the remainder of your miserable life?'
Sir Jasper waited, removed the cigar from his mouth and examined it at arm's length. Hannah saw that it had become dark stained with his spittle at the sucking end, while it carried a full inch of spent ash at the other. She observed his cigar, not from any personal interest, but because her wits had temporarily forsaken her, and she knew herself to be hopelessly trapped and entirely at the mercy of the small, cigar-toting policeman.
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?'
Hannah inhaled sharply and then in a low voice asked, 'Now, sir, what was it ya jus' said about it 'aving to be, ya know, someone or summink else what is needed for the case at 'and?'