‘No? I’ve been watching you since yesterday, my girl. Not long after our first meeting in Drury Lane, I had a witness here who had come to answer questions about a missing inkwell. He was very eager to be obliging and volunteered the information that he saw you giving a very large amount of jewellery to a broker two days ago . . . jewellery that you admitted to him was not yours,’ the runner said triumphantly. ‘So how did you come by it if you did not steal it? Did it drop from the sky into your lap or did you find it lying in the road? No, no, miss; your best hope now is to admit everything and pray that the magistrate is in a merciful mood. If you talk, he might think a spell in the new penal colony in Botany Bay punishment enough. If he’s not feeling so lenient and you refuse to admit your wrongdoing, it’ll be the noose for you or my name’s King George.’
Amos began to laugh like a pair of wheezy bellows at his colleague’s wit. ‘That it certainly is not, constable.’
Constable Lennox gave him a tolerant smile. ‘Have you finished, Amos? Can I lock her up now?’
‘All done,’ confirmed Amos, tucking the quill behind his ear.
‘Follow me, miss,’ said the runner, taking a key from a chain at his belt and going over to a heavy iron door behind the clerk’s counter.
I had no choice. I followed him and for the first time in my life found myself in gaol. Never in my darkest dreams had I imagined I would end up here.
SCENE 3 . . . GAOL
The constable led me down a narrow flight of stairs to the brick-lined basement of the magistrate’s house. Once used for storing fine wines, the cellars had been converted into holding cells for unfortunates like me. The only daylight came in through gratings set in the pavement above. You could see the flicker of shadows of the people passing by, oblivious to the captives below their feet. My resolve to keep a brave front in face of adversity was crumbling and I wished I had someone on whose shoulder I could weep and be comforted. I wished I had a mother. I felt very young and very alone.
Before I had a chance to break down, the constable opened the door to the cell. There, sitting against the wall on the far side, was Billy Boil. No way was I going to let him see me cry.
‘’Ello, Cat! I thought I’d be seeing you sooner or later,’ said Billy. ‘Welcome to my mansion.’ He threw out a grubby arm to point at the delights of his new abode.
The cell, about ten feet square, smelt worse than the foulest privy. Mouldering straw covered the brick floor. A single bucket for the use of the prisoners stood in one corner . . . I did not look too closely for it appeared to be full. Grey cobwebs festooned the flaking mortar, home to some disturbingly large spiders, and four rough-hewn benches flanked the walls. Billy was the only occupant for the present bar the rat that had just scuttled out of sight.
‘Glad to see you’ve found somewhere to your taste, Billy,’ I said, making light of the horror.
He laughed and stretched out on the bench, taking a bite from a wrinkled apple he held in his fist.
‘You can jest, Cat,’ he mumbled through a mouthful of pulp, ‘but don’t forget: you’re in ’ere too. What does that say for your taste?’
‘It says that it was tragically bad taste ever to have anything to do with you, you lying ball of cat sick. It’s your lies that’ve brought me here.’
‘Now, now, that’s enough,’ said the runner, pushing me into the cell. ‘I’d advise you, miss, to keep a civil tongue in your head, or it’ll be the worse for you.’
‘You’re not leaving me in here alone with him?’ I asked desperately, grabbing hold of the runner’s jacket.
He shook me off. ‘Naturally. There’s only one holding cell and you’re looking at it. If you’re lucky, you won’t be in here long . . . just a day or two.’
‘A day or two!’
‘Until the magistrate can spare the time to hear your case. Then you’ll be moved to a proper prison, of course.’
‘But if you leave me here with him, he’ll kill me!’
‘Ha!’ barked Constable Lennox. ‘Serves you right, don’t it? You should’ve thought of that before you got mixed up in this game.’
With that, he shut the door behind him and turned the key. I moved to the bench on the opposite side of the room from Billy and sat down, head bowed, hands in my lap, wondering when my enemy would make his move. There was silence for a few moments, punctuated only by the sound of him chewing on his apple. Finally, he spoke.
‘May I say, Pussycat, that you’re looking remarkably swell today. I’d almost take you for a fine lady. Pity there’s only me and the rats to appreciate it.’
I said nothing but stared at my hands resting in the green silk of my lap.
‘It’s good to ’ave some company. Shame your pistol friend couldn’t make it. Run off with the diamond and left you in the lurch, ’as ’e? You should’ve stuck with me, girl. None of this would’ve ’appened if you’d done that. But don’t you fret, Kitten: if we blame the ’ole thing on ’im, we might just squeak out of this one. You tell the Beak where ’e is and we’re laughin’.’
He took another bite of apple and crunched it loudly.
‘Want some?’
He held out the half-eaten apple to me. I shook my head. I’d let nothing he had touched pass my lips.
‘Fine. Suit yourself. But you’ll find them a bit short on the old commons ’ere, Cat . . . not like those flash ’ouses in Grosvenor Square I ’ear you’ve been frequentin’. Is that where you got those togs?’
I said nothing.
‘Gawd, Cat! It’s gonna be a long night if you don’t keep me company. We’re both in the same boat now, both facing the drop. Can’t you at least talk to me?’ He took a final bite of the apple and threw the core into the corner, where vermin could be heard fighting over it. ‘I’ve been ’ere since the early ’ours and I can tell you that it’s not nice . . . no, not nice at all. Won’t you need someone to run to when the rats start nibbling at your lace, eh?’
I looked up at him. He was grinning at me, enjoying every moment of my distress.
‘You’d be the last person I’d run to, Billy. I’d go to the rats for help first.’
His grimace broadened.
‘That’s what I like about you, Cat: your sense of ’umour. We’d’ve made a great team. Perhaps there’s still time: if we stand by each other, we might get out of this mess. And when we do that, where’d you go? The respectable folk at the theatre won’t want you back. You could come with me and ’elp me set up my little business in the Rookeries. I’ve got some ideas . . . big ideas.’