Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [64]
The man from the far end came into the light. It was Leggy Bromwich, a petty thief Tellman had known for years. He had turned a blind eye to him once or twice when he was only getting his own back, so he owed Tellman a favor. Not that that counted for much.
“Hello, Leggy,” Tellman said with a smile that was more a baring of his teeth. “Seen any good forgeries lately?”
“Yer got one, Mr. Tellman?” Leggy asked, his face brightening.
“I’m about to,” Tellman replied, “when Constable Stubbs here gets to doing his job.”
Leggy stopped just beyond Grover’s reach, his eyes wide, a slight smile on his thin face.
Stubbs felt in Jones’s pockets one after another, and picked out handfuls of money. “Just coins,” he said expressionlessly.
Jones said nothing.
Tellman felt his heart sink. Had Jones passed the note to Grover already? Or had the publican betrayed Tellman and not given it to Jones at all? He could taste failure in his mouth like bile. “Try inside his shirt!” he said roughly.
“Oh now, Mr. Tellman!” Jones protested. “You can’t do that! I’m an innocent man!”
Tellman twisted Jones’s arm a little tighter. Jones yelled.
“Sergeant, you’re out of your patch,” Grover began warningly.
Stubbs glanced at Grover, then at Leggy. He put his hand inside Jones’s shirt and pulled out two five-pound notes.
“Look at them,” Tellman told him. “Look close.”
Stubbs did so. Even at a three-foot distance Tellman could see they were not alike. At least one of them had to be a forgery, and only a moderately good one.
“Sergeant Grover?” Tellman said inquiringly. Now he was very glad Leggy Bromwich was here.
“Mr. Jones, I’m disappointed in you,” Grover said with mock sadness. He took a step backwards. “It seems Sergeant Tellman is right after all. Careless, that. Very careless.”
Tellman bared his teeth in another smile. “It is, isn’t it,” he agreed. “Not much use to anyone, a thing like that. I wouldn’t like to have my debts paid by a handful of those! Constable Stubbs, handcuffs, if you please. We have to take Mr. Jones with us. Good day, Mr. Grover, Leggy!” And he jerked Jones around to face the way out of the alley and pushed him forwards, Stubbs beside him.
He walked out to the main street where with luck they would find a hansom soon. He did not look behind him to see Grover’s expression, or the satisfaction he imagined on Leggy Bromwich’s face. He would be wise not to cross Grover’s path for a month or two at least.
That evening, after having delivered his news to Pitt, Tellman stood in the street outside the Gaiety Music Hall beside Gracie. She was glowing with excitement. He had promised to take her for nearly three weeks now, and twice had had to put it off, on Wetron’s orders or to pursue Pitt’s request. Tonight he put all other matters out of his head and came here regardless. Gracie’s shining face was sufficient reward to put the misery of suspicion out of his thoughts, at least until he was home again in his rooms and realization forced itself back upon him that he could afford to trust no one.
Of course it was possible the anarchists were mistaken about the degree of corruption. They were not exactly stable or rational men. Whoever heard of anything so totally idiotic as destroying all order so you could create justice again from the resulting chaos?
But the question of what Stubbs would have done if Leggy Bromwich had not been there nagged in his mind. And what would Stubbs tell Wetron? For that matter, what would Grover say to Simbister? Did he believe Jones had really dealt in forged money, or did he know perfectly well that Tellman had put it there himself? The one thing he was certain of was that Grover would not come out into the open and accuse the landlord of paying his extortion with forged money.
But if the rot was as widespread as Pitt feared, and they did not beat it, then Tellman faced a whole new problem. He realized with sick misery that he could not stay in the police. He would