Chapter Sixteen #2
Gabriel frowned, picked up the stump of pencil and chewed the end for a moment, which made Phoebe’s stomach churn at the thought of putting anything in this room into one’s mouth, and wrote quickly on the paper. He then slid it back to Abner. A kind of silent auction.
Abner’s turn to frown. After a long minute though, he wrote something else and slid the paper back over.
This time Gabriel gave a quick shrug, wrote again quickly, and shunted back the paper.
Abner, a glint in his eye, glanced down at the paper and gave a resigned nod.
He rose to his feet with difficulty, gathered up all three of the jewels, and hobbled to a small door in the corner that Phoebe hadn’t even noticed until then.
Glancing over his shoulder, he opened the door only wide enough for him to sidle through, then shut it behind him.
Phoebe looked a question at Gabriel.
“He doesn’t want us to see where he keeps his money, nor how much he has in there.
Nor what other valuables he’s got in storage.
” He kept his voice down but his eyes danced with enjoyment.
“We’re lucky he lets us up here. He doesn’t do that for most of his customers.
But he trusts me to a degree. I’ve been most useful to him in the past.”
Phoebe would have liked to have asked him how he’d been useful and when, but the reopening of the door kept her silent.
Abner sidled back into the room once again, holding a small bag in his hand.
The heavy chink of coins was evident. How much had he and Gabriel agreed on for her jewels?
Enough to help Gabriel establish another orphanage, she hoped.
But as she had no idea either how much was required for that, or how much her jewels would have brought when sold in a reputable dealer’s, she gave up trying to work it out.
After pausing for a moment to survey his two visitors, Abner hobbled back to the table and sat down. He must indeed trust Gabriel to have revealed where he kept his money, for surely if she and Gabriel had been of a mind to do so, they could have overpowered him and stolen all his loot.
This thought might have communicated itself to the fence, because he turned his head with slow deliberation and fixed his gaze on her.
“And as fer you, my lad, donchyou go getting’ no ideas about a-comin’ back an’ robbin’ me.
I doan keep all my blunt in there. Jest enough to tide me over an’ do a few deals.
Most o’ the time it’s empty as your head.
” And he leaned over and dealt her a rather more than light clip around the ear.
Never having been struck in her life before, and certainly never touched by so lowly a personage, Phoebe must have given away her shock by her expression.
Gabriel chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about my brother. He’s a good boy and he does as he’s told. He wouldn’t dare do anything on his own, nor tell anyone about where I go and what he sees with me. He knows I’d kill him if he tried it on.”
Abner grinned, revealing yet again his lack of teeth.
Those that he still possessed didn’t look as though they had long for this world.
“You got a lot of brothers, ain’t you, Guv’nor.
An’ in my experience, which is extensive, I’ve yet ter meet anyone’s brother what does as he’s told.
Don’t expect me ter believe yours’re any diff’rent. ” He gave a bark of laughter.
Gabriel shook his head. “I’ve only the two, and they do as they’re told or feel the back of my hand and the strap of my belt. They know better than to cross me. They’re both grateful I’m teaching them the ropes. Aren’t you, Will?”
Phoebe gave a hurried nod, keeping her head bowed.
Abner chuckled hoarsely. “Looks a bit of a tender parnell to me, that one. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose.
” He chuckled a bit more, perhaps at his own wit.
“And them’s the ones you gotta watch, in my experience.
If the Runners get a hold of boys like this un, they sing like canaries.
You mark the words of someone as is older an’ wiser than you, young Joe. ”
Most of this exchange left Phoebe confused, although she had an idea it wasn’t flattering to her, or rather to Will.
Gabriel gave a chuckle as well. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got my eyes firmly on young Will here. He’s not going anywhere without me. Now, what about the readies we agreed on?”
Phoebe watched Abner empty the bag and count out the coins, a large number of which sparkled like gold so must be guineas, into Gabriel’s outstretched hand.
She had no idea what the jewelry was really worth, but no doubt if one sold it illegally to someone like this in a garret in the St Giles Rookery, one didn’t get its full price.
Although Gabriel had haggled, she supposed, and had seemed pleased with his bargain.
Gabriel took another bag, this one small and of soft leather, from a pocket inside his coat and slipped the coins into it, then as quickly secreted it about his person. Abner, his avaricious gaze having followed the disappearance of the money, spat onto the palm of his right hand and held it out.
Gabriel indicated his broken arm and took the offered hand in his left one, having also delightfully spat onto it first.
The deal seeming to have been sealed in this rather bizarre and unhygienic fashion, both men looked satisfied. Did they each think they’d had the advantage and gained more than they’d lost?
Phoebe, who had not for a moment forgotten their other purpose, would have given Gabriel’s leg a kick had they been closer together. Instead she shot him a hard frown. Their other business interested her much more.
He leaned back in his seat and stretched, as though without a care in the world. “Do you recall when I was asking about the Frenchies that’re here in the rookery and the surrounding area?”
Abner shrugged. “I s’pose I does.” He didn’t seem much interested now he had his jewels. “Doan have much ter do with them since my old ma kicked the bucket.”
“I’m not talking about the Protestant ones,” Gabriel said. “Or at least, I don’t think I am. I’m after information about more recent arrivals. Those that were chased out of France by the revolution over there, starting twenty or so years ago.”
“Oh, them.” Abner sounded less interested than ever. “Them Papist lot.”
Gabriel chuckled. “I know full well your own father was a Papist.”
Abner shook his head. “So he were, but from a diff’rent direction. Irish born, he were. A proper bogtrotter. God bless his soul, the ole reprobate. Taught me a lot, he did.”
“Indeed.” Gabriel glanced at Phoebe who endeavored to give him an encouraging nod without being too obvious. But Abner wasn’t looking.
“Well,” Gabriel said. “I’ve a mind to try finding a particular one.
The one I asked you about some time ago and you were kind enough to make inquiries about.
I have new information about her now. So the search might well be more fruitful, as I have a bit more of a description of her and I believe it’s far more accurate.
And this time the person I’m after might stand out a bit even here.
Might have once stood out more, I suppose.
” He shrugged. “I don’t even know if she’s still living.
She was last seen twenty-three years since, in Soho Square. ”
“You said that when you asked me last time,” Abner grumbled. “If you want better results you’d best have more than just ‘a Frenchwoman with graying hair’ to tell me wot to look fer.”
Gabriel nodded. “I do. The woman I’m looking for, who had dark-auburn hair then, not gray, was young and possessed of the most striking violet eyes.
She herself was also striking in being tall and possibly beautiful.
Her hair is probably gray now, if she still lives, but violet eyes are most unusual and will not have changed.
I have this description from a reliable eyewitness. ”
A sense of smugness crept over Phoebe as it had been her idea to question Mrs. Hawkins.
This was indeed a different description of his mother.
At least they now knew what she’d looked like twenty-three years ago.
Although if she lived here in the rookery, or any of the surrounding streets which were only a little better, goodness knew what that sort of a life might have done to her by now, or even if she were still living.
Something flickered in Abner’s eyes. Had Gabriel seen it? Phoebe focused her attention on the shifty fence.
“She steal somethin’ from someone you know, did she?
” Abner asked. He sounded begrudging of his help.
“I c’n ask about, now you’ve a bit more of a description.
You never know. Might come to somethin’.
” He scratched his forehead, pushing his hat even further back.
“I could get the lads out on the lookout, I s’pose.
But if she’s alive, she might not even be here no more.
Twenty-three years is a long time. Some people do get outta here, you know.
We’re not all stuck in here for good.” He chuckled.
“Mainly for bad, I s’pose.” And he laughed the harder at his own joke.
Gabriel got to his feet. “There’s gold sovereigns for you if your information leads me to her.
And remember, she’s not to be touched. All I want is for you to find her and tell me where she is.
If you have a message for me regarding this woman, you can leave it at the Angel on the High Street.
I’ll get it. Your reward, of course, depends on the degree of your success. ”
He glanced at Phoebe again. “Come on, Will. Time to get us something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Phoebe scrambled to her feet and, without a backward glance over her shoulder, hurried down the stairs behind Gabriel, immensely relieved to be out of that squalid little room. She’d quite forgotten how the streets were even worse.