Chapter 6

Blathers and I no longer had the use of our gig. Sir Robert Peel confiscated it for his Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard. Shoe leather was our source of transportation. The walk to the house we were seeking took about half an hour. The journey presented no difficulty to me, and Blathers needed the exercise.

The house was in the section of London known as Spitalfields, a neighborhood primarily inhabited by Jewish and Irish textile workers. The residents considered the police to be an annoyance. We were attacked there more than once when we were policemen. Now, the first order of business was to locate a certain character who was a leader among the ragtag population. It would be important to let the local people know we were not part of Sir Robert Peel’s “Bobbies” anymore.

We knew where to look. The gin shops of the neighborhood, among the dirtiest and most disreputable in all of London, were the business and political centers of the community.

In the largest, noisiest, filthiest of all, a burly man with hairy arms came to meet us as we entered. “It’s dem two rozzers now, isn’t it. Duff, you’re lookin’ skinny as ever, special since it looks as Blathers has added to his belly. Why doesn’t ya take dat skinny arse o’ yars outa here afore yas gets conked, do ya see.”

Blathers stepped forward and put his hand out in front of him. ”Now, Conway, take it easy.” Hugh Conway was the unofficial mayor of the Irish population of Spitalfields. His gin shop was the unofficial Irish town hall. “We is come to tell ya that we is no longer wi’ the police. We is now private investigators, and the population o’ the area has no longer a need to fear from us.”

“Ya never gave n’one a break when ya was a rozzer. How do ya expect dat we can trust ya now, answer me dat?” Conway had been running this gin shop for as long as either Blathers or I could remember, but he never lost his brogue. “Fer two pence I’d toss ya in da slops in da street.”

It was my turn. “Mr. Conway, our activities of the past were directed by a higher authority. We had no control at that time. If we were not always as fair as possible with the citizens of Spitalfields, it was because that is how we were told to act. Now, however, we work only for ourselves. This allows us to do favors for those who do favors for us.” I raised my eyebrows. “If you get my meaning.”

“Y’er sayin’ as if’n I help ya dat when da time comes, y’ll help me, is dat right?”

“Exactly, and we have business in the neighborhood. We only care about our task. We aren’t interested in any other activities.”

“Afore I’d be helping ya, I would know what your business might be, do ya see.”

Blathers said, “We is investigatin’ the killing what happened in the little house a few doors down the street.”

“Ya mean da one where dat fella lived all alone. Ya know, dat’s strange in dis neighborhood. Most places has one family all living in da same room, do ya see.”

“Why do you think that was the case?” I asked “Why did he live alone when everyone else is crowded in?”

“’Cause, he could ’ford ta. Maybe he owned da property, or his da or some relative did. Ya never know ’bout dese tings.”

“Can you tell us what kind of person he was?”

“He was da kind o’ person dat don’t go into no gin shops. Dat’s all I know. His passing won’t hurt me business one lick.”

Blathers asked, “Was he Irish or Jew or what, do ya know?”

“I told ya all dat I know, now. If ya want me to tell da lads ta give ya a chance in da neighborhood, den I’ll do so. But ya better be careful. Dere’s some tough fellas round here dat’s got dere own ideas. And ya better not be double-crossing me, or ya wont get out o’ da neighborhood da next time ya come round.”

I said, “Thank you, Mr. Conway. We will rely on you, and you can rely on us.”

Conway got the last word. “Fer da sake o’ your healt’ I hope so. I’d hate ta see ya lying bleeding in da alley here, now.” Conway raised his eyebrows and looked straight at me. “If’n ya get me meaning.”