'Is what they done against the laws of England?' Marybelle asked the bank officer.
Daintree frowned, pinching the brow of his nose. 'No, not strictly. A credit note issued in a contract involving two specific parties and identifying one specific party to another specific party and not redeemable by a third party is not uncommon,' he replied, though he was clearly bemused.
Marybelle shrugged. The implications were not lost on her. The husband and wife team would attempt to rob Ikey of the letter before he arrived back in London. She well recalled the look of consternation on their faces when she'd entered the banker's personal chambers. Any plans to retrieve the money and letter of credit, or to harm Ikey, would be based on someone identifying him as he came out of the bank. She, on the other hand, was unknown to any potential robbers.
Marybelle was a brave and tough woman not accustomed to being threatened and she set great trust in Ikey's cunning, so she comforted herself with the thought: Since when is two clumsy bloody country bumpkins a match for two London Jews, fuck their goyim eyes!
'Where does I sign?' Marybelle asked smiling.
'Really, Mrs Firkin, I should caution you, this may not be in Mr Solomon's interest!' the banker exclaimed.
Maggie the Colour jumped from her chair and accosted the man from the bank. 'Really, sir! We don't know who this woman be! We've never laid eyes on 'er before today! We 'ave no specimen o' Mr Solomons' signature, not the least identification, maybe the letter what introduced 'er is a trick? Maybe she stole the merchandise what we just paid for? We'd be plain daft if we took chance with letter o' credit!' Maggie the Colour's brittle tone suddenly softened and she smiled. 'You see, sir, Mr Solomons is much respected by me 'usband and me. If this woman is an impostor and 'as done him wrong, then, at great personal expense to ourselves, we 'ave protected 'is interests with the letter what I just wrote?'
'What about the small scrap o' paper what was in yer letter? Ikey said it were 'is affy davy, what made every-fink kosher?'
'Paper?' Maggie held up Ikey's letter. 'This be no proof 'e wrote it. It could be plain and simple forgery!'
'Not that! The small piece o' paper what was a triangle shape come wif that?'
Maggie the Colour looked at Mr Daintree and then at Silas, her expression plainly bemused. She shook her head slowly. 'Paper? What was triangle shape? That be plain daft for letter writin'. Small piece you say, triangle shape?' she repeated and held up Ikey's letter again. 'This be the only paper Mr Solomon sent and it be rectangle, not triangle and not small neither. I doesn't know what you can possibly mean, Mrs Firkin.'
Mary sighed, her huge bosoms quivering. 'Give us the quill then. Yer a right pair o' villains, you two!' She reached out for the paper which now lay on the desk in front of the banker. 'Be so kind as to show us the exact place where I puts me mauley, Mr Daintree, sir.' Then she looked up and asked, 'Is the address of 'er and 'er 'usband on this 'ere letter?'
Mr Daintree glanced at the letter and pointed to the left-hand corner. 'It's right there where it should be,' he confirmed.
'Will ya read it out loud, lovey? We don't want them two doin' a runner if they's up to some monkey trick!'
The banker, somewhat bemused, read the address out aloud.
Marybelle looked at Silas and Maggie Browne. 'I'll remember that I will, make no mistake!' Whereupon, her pink tongue protruding from the corner of her mouth, she tediously applied her signature to the letter. 'There you are, missus,' she said at last, and then cast a second malevolent glance at the husband and wife. 'Be that good faith enough for the likes o' you lot?'
Maggie the Colour sniffed, and gave the letter to the banker to apply his signature, and thereafter she made Silas do the same. Marybelle recognised in him the same tedious effort in signing his name and concluded that he too had difficulty with writing.
Marybelle then addressed the banker. 'Now, if ya please, sir, I requests the pleasure o' the monickers o' them two on the letter what Mr Solomon gave me what states my position as negotiator on 'is be'arf!'
Daintree attempted to conceal his grin. 'Of course, Mrs Firkin, it is completely in order for you to do so.' He picked up the letter from where it lay on the desk and handed it to Maggie the Colour who read it with her lips pursed and an altogether sour expression upon her face.
'Humph!' she said finally and took the quill up again, signing the letter, as did Silas and Daintree, who blotted it carefully, before handing it back to Marybelle.
Maggie the Colour then asked the banker if he would be so good as to have a clerk make two fair copies of the letter she had written, this to be on bank stationery. When these arrived back she read both carefully, they were duly signed again by all four people present and the original given to the banker for safekeeping. A fair copy was handed to both Marybelle and the Brownes.
With this seemingly watertight agreement in their possession, Maggie and her husband could now set about the task of preventing Ikey from ever presenting their letter of credit. The total cost to them of the paper and plates would be five hundred pounds, though, if they could apprehend him soon enough, the larger part of this too might be recovered.
Marybelle Firkin was helped to her feet by a triumphant Silas Browne and a smiling Maggie the Colour. A concerned David Daintree placed the letter of agreement, Ikey's returned letter and the letter of credit in a heavy linen envelope, sealed it and pressed the bank's insignia into the hot wax. Then he rose and took Marybelle by the arm and guided her to the doorway. Marybelle paused at the door and turned to face the smug-looking couple. She smiled sweetly. 'I wish ya both meesa meschina' she said, a Yiddish expression meaning, 'I wish you sudden death'.
Mr Daintree handed Marybelle the envelope, first cautioning Maggie the Colour and Silas Browne to remain seated in his chambers until he returned, then he walked Marybelle across the marble foyer of the bank chambers to the front door.
'Ten minutes it says in the letter? You'll not let them two miserable bastards out o' yer chambers for ten minutes, will ya?' Marybelle paused. 'Mind, I'd be right obliged if you'd make that a bit more, wotcha say, lovey?'
Mr David Daintree, member of the board of Birmingham City and County Bank, smiled. 'My pleasure, Mrs Firkin, fifteen minutes at the least, what?' He turned and instructed the guard at the door to see Marybelle safely to her carriage where two footmen with red rosettes on their top hats waited to work her enormous frame through the carriage door and safely into the interior.
Before pulling away the coachman reported quietly to Marybelle that four horsemen of rough looks and a young lad of about ten were waiting under a group of elm trees not fifty feet from the bank, and that he'd taken the trouble to make a casual enquiry to the doorman who'd indicated that they'd arrived shortly after two in the afternoon.
'Watch to see if they follow us,' Marybelle instructed.
After an hour the coachman stopped at a village inn and Marybelle was helped from the carriage into the hostelry, and taken immediately to a small room which contained only a table and two chairs. The room was fuggy with the steam of dishes covering the table. The landlord bid Marybelle bon appetit and bowing, backed out of the door, locking it behind him. A few minutes later she heard the rattle of a key again and Ikey stepped into the room and locked the door behind him.
'Loverly grub! I got to 'and it to ya, Ikey, ya knows a good nosh 'ouse when ya sees one.' Marybelle pointed to the envelope which sat on the only corner of the table not covered in dishes. 'There you are, lovey, signed, sealed and delivered by yers truly!'