The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12) Page 9

  ‘I’d help you if I could,’ said Jim, ‘but like I say, decent jobs are thin on the ground at the moment.’

  ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that but surely there is something? Something that you have … stored away for a rainy day?’

  ‘Well, I’ll have a word with a few people but I make no promises.’

  Lassiter took a sip of his brandy and puffed on his cigar. ‘I don’t think that you’re being entirely honest with me, Mr. Darby. Why don’t you tell me what you know about The Blue Rajah of Ranipoor?’

  Jim’s mouth dropped open and he appeared shocked, ‘The Blue Ra- how do you know about …? Oh of course, Racine.’

  ‘Yes, Racine. You should never trust a woman to keep a secret Mr. Darby, they are too easily persuaded with money and jewellery to be a reliable repository for one’s private affairs.’

  ‘Apparently,’ replied Jim, drily.

  ‘Don’t be too harsh on her, she merely mentioned it in passing as she thought we could do some mutually beneficial work together. Now then, The Blue Rajah. I understand you have plans, contacts, inside men, etc.’

  ‘I do but I’m not in a position to offer that job to you, I’ve already farmed this one out to a firm in Southall.’

  ‘But Darby, we would like that job, Bolan and I can carry it out for you. Your usual rate will be paid and whatever deal you have with them will be honoured by us.’

  ‘But I can’t Lassiter, I’ve given my word. I’m sorry but no.’

  Bolan leaned over and gripped Jim’s arm painfully. ‘I don’t think you’re listening to Mr. Lassiter.’

  Jim looked down and grabbed Bolan’s little finger. Bending it back slowly he told him, ‘If you don’t let go, I will snap it.’

  Bolan held on as long as he could but eventually he was forced to let go of Jim’s arm. With a curse he rose out of his chair and stepped towards Jim … only to stop as he felt a knife blade poking into his family jewels.

  Jim had produced a blade from somewhere and was holding it at Bolan’s crotch. ‘Move another inch closer and I’ll change your religion,’ Jim told him calmly.

  Lassiter snapped, ‘Bolan, sit back down! You’re making a scene.’

  Bolan reluctantly did so but not before giving Jim a look of sheer hatred and promising him, ‘One day Darby, one day’.

  ‘Bolan, behave yourself,’ hissed Lassiter. ‘We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.’ Bolan relaxed back into his chair and glowered at Jim who studiously ignored him.

  ‘Lassiter, I’m sorry but I can’t give you this job, I’ve promised it to some very tough characters, it wouldn’t be wise for me to cross them. Besides, I don’t even know if you’re up to this level of work.’

  ‘Why don’t you let us worry about that,’ said Lassiter smoothly. He had regained his composure after his outburst at Bolan. ‘Just give us the information and we will take care of the rest.’

  ‘I’m sorry but the Blue Rajah job is not up for grabs so I think that it’s about time we called it a night,’ Jim said, standing up. As it was a private club and they were his guests he could not simply go and leave them unattended. He waited as Lassiter finished his drink and then he escorted them to the foyer where their coats were brought to them.

  As he said goodnight to them when they got a carriage to take them home, Lassiter turned to Jim and said, ‘I trust tonight’s little misunderstanding didn’t cause any lasting ill-feeling? I would hate for it disrupt our acquaintance, you are a useful fellow for a visitor to Londum to know and I value your guidance. I hope that we can continue our business relationship.’

  Jim acted magnanimously and replied, ‘Of course, even the best of relationships have disagreements from time to time. But you must understand that this particular undertaking is outside the scope of what I can offer you.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Nevertheless, when Bolan entered the carriage, he and Jim exchanged looks that said neither of them would forget what had happened that night.

  ***

  A few days later, Jim was taking his elevenses at The Golden Gryphon when Willy came through the door. ‘Morning Willy,’ said Jim. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?’

  ‘No thanks Mr. Darby. I’m very glad I found you here though, I’ve been following Lassiter and his friends like you asked me to and came across something a bit disturbing.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, that big sod Bolan, he’s been going around the East End asking questions about you. He’s even been in here, spreading some coin around. I know you said to stick with Lassiter but I saw Bolan around these parts, so I followed him to see what he was up to. He actually came in here, The Golden Gryphon.’ Willy sounded quite aggrieved.

  ‘Who’d he speak to?’

  ‘That McGarry sort, amongst others. Bad ‘un he is.’

  ‘Any idea what they were talking about?’

  ‘Nah, couldn’t get close enough. I tried to but McGarry spotted me and gave me the ‘evil eye’, he knows I work for you.’

  ‘Checking up on me, eh?’ said Jim. ‘I suppose it’s only to be expected. Still, keep your eyes open Willy and let me know if you see him with McGarry again.’

  ‘Will do, Mr. Darby.’

  ***

  ONE MORE FLASHBACK. (Don’t worry, they’re nearly over.)

  Jim stood there in the pouring rain. Does it always rain in Canton? he wondered. It was certainly good for the rice … and the ducks. Jim hadn’t had anything to eat but rice and some fish for a week. All he could think about was the ducks that splashed about in the river. Thoughts of duck dishes floated through his mind, Duck l’orange from Maxim’s in Paree, crispy duck, stir-fry duck, slow roasted duck with new potatoes and … and … anything but bloody rice!

  THWHACK! Tie-Pin’s walking stick hit Jim on the side of the head. ‘Pay attention, Gwailoh! Or I send you away.’ He waved his stick at a cross of wood fixed rigidly to a post in the ground, the post extended up past the cross-piece so that the impression was that of a man with his arms and legs spread wide. Then the limbs and the head had been thickly wrapped with straw to provide padding.

  ‘Now then,’ said Tie-Pin, ‘the first rule of Gung-Ho is that there are no rules.’

  ‘What’s the second rule?’ asked Jim, facetiously.

  ‘No Smoking. Now shut up and listen. By no rules I mean that the bottom line is that you do whatever it takes to win a fight. Some Masters teach that you must strictly adhere to the moves and routines with no deviation. So, if the situation calls for a Striking Cobra, then that is what you must do. I however believe that a Striking Cobra and half a house brick can be even more effective.’

  ‘Okay, I take your point. Being unorthodox and using whatever is to hand is the most efficient way of winning,’ said Jim.

  ‘Exactly. Now, this training will be hard and painful-’

  ‘Why should it be painful?’ interrupted Jim.

  ‘Because of this.’ THWACK! He hit Jim on the arm, ‘Now don’t interrupt me again.’

  ‘How long are you going to keep hitting me with that stick?’ asked Jim angrily.

  ‘Until you can take it away from me,’ Tie-Pin told him. ‘Now then monkey-brain, you hit this straw man where I hit it. I hit it with my stick; you hit it with your head, hand, foot, whatever. You got that?’

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  ‘Good, now begin.’ Tie-Pin hit the stick across the chest, Jim dutifully punched the dummy in the chest. Tie-Pin hit the straw man on the knee and Jim kicked him there. And so it went on.

  The next day, Tie-Pin took Jim to the back of the village where there was a bamboo circle raised on bamboo poles to above head height. Hanging from the circle were a number of ropes supporting sacks filled with something. Standing at each rope was a villager who Tie-Pin had co-opted to assist him. At a word from Tie-Pin each villager swung the sack hanging from the rope in front of him. The sacks all swung into the centre and collided.

  ‘Go stand in the centre of circle,’ T
ie-Pin ordered Jim.

  Once he was there, the villagers recommenced swinging the sacks. They were full of sand apparently and when they all collided with Jim’s body, forced the breath out of him. ‘Ow, that hurt!’ he complained when he could breathe again.

  ‘Well, avoid them then,’ Tie-Pin suggested. ‘Also we will make it easier by not using so many at a time. Begin!’

  Tie-Pin nodded at the villagers in turn and the nominated person swung his sack into the circle, Jim then had to swerve out of its way or duck to avoid it. They started off slowly just a couple at a time. Jim was easily able to avoid them but when the number crept up he wasn’t always so successful. Being hit by a sack full of wet sand was quite painful, particularly if it caught you in the head. Tie-Pin adjusted the lengths of the various ropes so some hit him in the torso and some caught him in the head.

  This went on for many days with Tie-Pin alternating Jim’s training between the swinging ropes and the straw dummy.

  ***

  About two weeks later, Tie-Pin stood in front of the straw dummy. ‘You got the hang of this now? It’s easy isn’t it? But fights are never like that in real life, you have to be able to continue to fight and return blows even when somebody is hitting you. Therefore, from now on … I will hit you on your body and then you will hit the dummy in the same place.

  ‘Begin.’ Tie-Pin waved his stick around and then brought it down on Jim’s shoulder. Jim grabbed his shoulder and bent over. Tie-Pin hit him again on the other shoulder but this time Jim got the message and hit the dummy with the side of his hand, on the dummy’s shoulder.

  Tie-Pin stood behind Jim so he couldn’t anticipate the blows and for the next week or so Jim had to endure lengthy sessions of punishing blows from Tie-Pin whilst hammering his hands and feet into the unrelenting dummy (interspersed with days dodging swinging bags of sand).

  Every time that Tie-Pin struck him with his stick, Jim had to strike the dummy. Every time, THWACK! on the head with the cane and then THWACK! punch the dummy in the head.

  After many long days of this, it became too much for Jim and suddenly, without any warning, he grabbed the stick away from Tie-Pin and threw it into the bushes. ‘Stop hitting me!’

  When Tie-Pin shouted at him, Jim shouted angrily back. This seemed to infuriate the old man and he punched at Jim’s head, Jim swung to one side and it missed him. Tie-Pin aimed a blow at Jim’s stomach which he managed to side-step. A kick to the chest was blocked and the following two blows from Tie-Pin’s left, then right hands were countered. Jim’s speed and reflexes had increased considerably over the training period.

  Tie-Pin relaxed and stood there smiling at him and said, ‘Very good. Now, kindly return my stick to me.’

  Jim retrieved the stick and placed it into Tie-Pin’s outstretched hands with a bow.

  ‘You are ready now, Gwailoh. That is all I can teach you in a short time.’

  ‘So, I know Gung-Ho,’ said Jim, with a grin.

  Tie-Pin snorted in amusement. ‘If you entered a Gung-Ho tournament now, you would be eaten alive but I’d put you against anyone in a bar fight in Shanglow. Go back to your hut, eat and rest. Tomorrow we set out for Shanglow and my silver. Rest now, it is a long walk.’

  Jim sighed with relief and began to unwrap the bandages from his hands as they walked back to Jim’s hut. ‘Finally, back to civilisation, good food, cold drinks and a warm bed.’

  ‘Tell me more about the dancing girls,’ asked Tie-Pin.

  ***

  Jim sipped his whisky and studied his cards again. He had a full house, kings over aces. Damn! he cursed mentally, he was trying to lose and he kept getting good hands. He and Lassiter were at Jim’s club, sitting at a card table in the games room. Bolan was sitting in the corner, watching the room. Tonight was the night Jim was going to lose heavily to Lassiter and put himself in Lassiter’s debt. The trouble was he kept getting dealt good cards. Oh well.

  It would have been different if it had been a private game in a hotel room or somebody’s house, then they might have taken it in turns dealing but here in an official gaming club they always had dealers who handled the cards. Jim was a pretty good card sharp and could have easily manipulated the cards to his advantage. His intention was to lose heavily so no one would have expected him to be cheating, they only watch the winners carefully, no one would believe that someone who lost so much would be doing it deliberately.

  However, as he couldn’t get his hands on the deck, he would have to just rely on playing badly, throwing away good hands by exchanging them for fresh cards, making bad bets and just generally gambling stupidly.

  So he had three kings and two aces. When it was his turn he threw away two kings and one ace and got a six, a ten and a three in return. A perfectly lousy set of cards. He raised his bet considerably and when it came to the end of the hand, lost heavily.

  It is a rule in playing cards for money that if you want to see a man’s cards you have to pay for the privilege. Therefore, when someone handed in their cards to the dealer at the end or if they folded during the game, they were handed over face down, so no one saw the cards, not even the dealer. That meant that no one could see the cards and get an understanding of what a man might fold on or choose to bluff on, in the future. Fortunately, this meant for Jim that he didn’t have to explain why he was playing such stupid hands or even throwing away perfectly good ones.

  It went on like this all night,, Jim drank more whisky and although he could handle his booze, he let Lassiter think it was having more effect than it really did and went some way to explaining his bad judgement at cards.

  Jim lost heavily at cards and eventually ran out of money. With the permission of the other players at the table, he was allowed to issue markers, IOU’s, promises to pay if he lost. He made sure that the majority of the markers and the ones for the largest amounts went to Lassiter.

  Finally when Jim thought he was deep enough in debt to Lassiter, he called it a day and excused himself from the table. He walked slowly away from the table with shoulders drooping, with not a few pitying glances from his fellow card players, and went next door to the lounge.

  Jim sat at a table and waited for Lassiter and Bolan. Before long they left the games room and joined him. The waiter came over and Jim ordered a stiff whisky, Lassiter had the same.

  After the waiter had left the drinks, Jim sipped his drink without speaking, waiting for Lassiter to begin the conversation. Lassiter finally broke the silence.

  ‘That was a very large amount of money that you lost to me tonight Mr. Darby. A very large amount indeed. One wonders if you can actually meet your commitments.’

  Jim had told Racine not to let Lassiter know that he was independently wealthy. For this to work he had to believe that Jim was just a well-heeled working stiff but with a limit to his funds, just the same as Lassiter.

  ‘Well naturally I can pay my debts … I just don’t have the money on me right now,’ he joked nervously.

  ‘But you do have the money?’

  ‘Yes, just … you know, I just need a day or two that’s all.’

  ‘But Mr. Darby, I accepted your marker in good faith. And now you tell me you cannot pay. Supposing word was to get out that you couldn’t pay your debts? Betting with money you don’t have, can’t get?’

  ‘Look Lassiter, I’ve gambled with you for weeks now, you know me. I can’t just go to a bank and get that sort of money is all I’m saying; I need to call in a few debts, sell a few pieces that’s all. It will only take a few days, I just need some time,’ he said, anxiously.

  ‘Well Mr. Darby I’m afraid I can’t give you that time, you see I have pressing needs too. So you will have to get that money by tomorrow, any way you can, otherwise your name will be ruined. There won’t be a gaming house or private club in Londum that will allow you in. I think you’ll find that your invitations to social functions will dry up too. In other words, you pay your debts or you’re finished. I will let everyone know that you, what’s that
charming Albion phrase? That you “Welch on your bets”.’

  ‘Curse you Lassiter, I thought you were a man of integrity.’

  ‘And I thought you were a man of means. Looks like we were both wrong.’

  ‘Can’t we come to some arrangement?’ pleaded Jim.

  Lassiter smiled at Bolan and then looked back at Jim. ‘Well … perhaps.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Jim, hopefully.

  ‘The Blue Rajah,’ said Lassiter, simply.

  ‘Ah, I see,’ said Jim. ‘So if I give you the plans on how to steal the Blue Rajah then you’ll return my markers and the debt’s scrubbed?’

  ‘Yes. You’ll have your IOU’s back, your debt will be cleared and your good name will not be in any danger.’

  ‘But what about the people I’ve promised it to?’ asked Jim.

  ‘They’re your problem.’

  Jim picked up his drink, took a swig and stared moodily into it.

  ‘Well?’ asked Lassiter.

  ‘I don’t really have a choice, do I?’ Jim admitted bitterly.

  ‘I’m afraid not. Well what’s it to be?’

  ‘All right, all right! You win, we’ll do it your way, I’ll give you the plans.’

  ‘Fine, I knew you’d see sense. I want you to come to my house tomorrow evening and bring everything you have on Sir Hugo Blackstock and his precautions to protect the Blue Rajah. When you do, your markers will be returned to you.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Jim glumly.

  Lassiter swigged back his drink, stood up and nodded to Bolan to follow him.

  ‘So nice doing business with you, Mr. Darby,’ he said as they left. Bolan grinned at Jim as they walked out.

  Jim sat there for a while not moving or speaking until he was sure they had left the club, then he smiled, lit a cigarette and waggled his empty glass at the waiter. Oh boy, have you got a surprise coming to you Lassiter, he thought.

  ***

  Next evening, Jim arrived at Lassiter’s house, just as it was getting dark. He had a folder under his arm with all the information he had manufactured into a believable dossier, regarding The Blue Rajah. He was rather proud of it as he had spent several days on it and they were excellent forgeries.