Ikey nodded his agreement and the three men entered the precincts of the court to be met at the steps leading into the Westminster courts by Hannah and several of Ikey's associates, most of whom were Jews from the Whitechapel markets, Petticoat and Rosemary Lanes. Their attendance was less a show of loyalty than a favour returned for a similar attendance by Ikey and Hannah at some past occasion when each of those present had faced an indictment. This was because of the wellestablished fact that, should a Jew be in the dock, the likelihood of a conviction was near five times that of any other Londoner. It became therefore the custom to try to fill the court with 'sympathetic voices' so that the mood of the rabble in the gallery would not influence the judgment.
In Ikey's present predicament this was of overwhelming importance, the fear being, that if news of his application for bail should spread, the court would soon be filled with the rabble from the streets howling for his blood and the judge, sensitive to the animosity of the public at large, might think it safer for all concerned for Ikey to remain behind bars until his trial came up.
But when the time came for Ikey's hearing to be called the clerk of the court informed Titty Smart that the judge was in his chambers. He said there would be a delay of at least an hour, taking the hearing almost to the noon hour. The man, his lips pursed, had consulted his watch, whereupon he had shaken his head. 'No time, gentlemen, at noon his worship takes luncheon at the Athenaeum Club, he'll not return until two o'clock at best!' This meant that Ikey's writ of habeas corpus would therefore not be served until the early part of that afternoon.
Ikey suggested that he stand his two keepers a good tightener at a local chop house and requested that his friends be allowed to accompany them.
'I could go a good tightener and a jug o' best ale,' Titty Smart agreed, patting his large stomach without his mandatory show of reluctance. His attitude to Ikey had considerably softened following the time spent at the Pig 'n Spit and now he turned to Albert Popjoy. 'Drop o' fodder can't 'urt, now can it, lad?'
Popjoy nodded. He too was hungry and the idea of a plate of meat – mutton chops surrounded by a generous collar of yellow fat -was a most enticing prospect. It was difficult for him to maintain his official demeanour and not show his pleasure at the anticipation of such an unexpected treat.
'That be fine,' he said in a brusque voice, though he was salivating at the thought of the tightener to come at Ikey's expense.
'My pleasure, entirely, gents,' Ikey said with great alacrity.
Hannah, who stood close to her husband, shook her head. '
'Ang on a mo'! We go into a chop 'ouse round these parts, in fact, any parts, there's plenty what will want to do Ikey an 'arm!'
A look of mutual disappointment crossed the faces of the two turnkeys, although Ikey could scarcely believe his luck. 'Gentlemen, what's to worry? Mistress Marybelle will welcome us back to the Pig! There be a dozen chop 'ouses in Rosemary Lane what can send in a banquet to suit the fancy o' the most particular appetite.' He spread his arms wide. 'What it is my great pleasure to satisfy.'
The matter was quickly settled and fifteen minutes later the three men arrived back at the Pig 'n Spit followed shortly afterwards by two hackney coaches containing the six others eager to avail themselves of Ikey's generosity. Hannah, though, protested to Ikey that she would follow a little later as young Mark had a bad cough and she must fetch some physic for him before joining them.
The fog had lifted somewhat, but the ever present miasma at rooftop level and the winter smog kept the day sombre and the visibility low. Therefore none but Ikey noted the outline of a gentleman's coach with four horses which had followed them and now passed them as they turned into the rear of the Pig 'n Spit. Nor would they have seen that it too came to a halt only a few yards further along the road.
Marybelle, now dressed, welcomed them with the same equanimity as on the earlier occasion. Upon entering the parlour Titty Smart, observing Marybelle's previous demand, had unmanacled Ikey and Popjoy had done likewise. Waiting for the other guests to enter the room, the older of the turnkeys once again locked the door and dropped the key into his coat pocket.
The parlour, if they should stand in a rather close-packed manner, was only just large enough to accommodate them all. In fact, the near proximity of Ikey's guests to each other, the warmth of the excellent fire in the hearth and the dispensing of generous quantities of Marybelle Firkin's best brandy coupled with her friendly banter added greatly to the jollity of the occasion. Ikey's two keepers were soon as loquacious as any in the room as they continued to imbibe the excellent brandy. But their stomachs were empty of food as Marybelle had delayed, by an hour, its delivery from a nearby chop house.
At last the food arrived and at the same time Hannah appeared. Titty Smart, Ikey noted, had with some difficulty inserted the key into the lock, to allow the trays to be brought into the room. Two large trays of chops, aproned with deliciously crisped fat and at least a dozen plump whole carcases of spatchcock stuffed with chestnuts together with mounds of golden roasted potatoes were hoisted above the heads of the guests and placed upon the dresser. Ikey watched again as the older turnkey made several unsuccessful thrusts at the lock before pausing to carefully place his tankard of brandy on the floor between his legs. Then with the key held in both hands, and squinting fiercely at the key hole, he finally managed to lock the door.
The smell of the roasted meat appeared to have much the same effect on Titty Smart as had been the case earlier with the flaming brandy fumes. Forgetting the half-filled tankard on the floor between his legs he kicked it over as he rudely pushed his way through the throng towards the trays of steaming food. As he passed, Ikey simply dipped his hand into the turnkey's coat pocket, and in a foolishly simple example of the art of tooling retrieved the key to the door.
While a mood of genial drunkenness overtook the room, Ikey retained a completely sober disposition. Marybelle pretended to frequently fill his pewter but, instead, merely splashed a lick of cognac into the bottom of his tankard, which was not sufficient to cause a comfortable night's sleep to a teething infant.
Ikey measured the cacophony of the room. It was, after all, filled with people who were easily inclined towards talking over each other in a manner seldom confidential, and when it seemed all were shouting and none were listening, he prepared to make his move. First he checked the whereabouts of Albert Popjoy and found him pinned to the wall by two shmatter traders from the Lane both battering him with expostulating words too mixed in the general banter to hear. Popjoy's eyelids seemed heavy with fatigue and he appeared to find it difficult to focus on the two men. Ikey moved towards the door and carefully unlocked it, whereupon he slipped quickly through to the other side, closed the door quietly and locked it again, placing the key above the lintel.
He made his way down the passage to the back of the Pig 'n Spit and was about to step into the courtyard when the cellarman's apprentice made an appearance.
'Me shillin'? You promised us a shillin', Mr Ikey.'
Ikey looked behind him in a panic, but he and the boy were alone. He fished into his coat for his dumby and from the purse produced two single shillings. Ikey dropped one of the shillings into the lad's hand and held the other up between forefinger and thumb and whispered urgently, 'There, a deuce hog, one for the promise and t'other for not seein' nothin' what's happenin' in front of your eyes at this very moment. Does you understand, my boy?'