John Creasey: The Toff And The Stolen Tresses

His wife said: “Tiny, do you think—”

“I think we’ve finished this smooth Mayfair type for good and all,” rasped Wallis, “and I shan’t go into mourning.”

Rollison was backing away a little, as if still scared. Twice he darted swift glances over his shoulder, and twice the sea of faces seemed to split in two, and derisive laughter erupted.

“Donny,” Rollison muttered, “you heard what he said. It’s incitement to murder.”

“Our Donny won’t lift a finger to help you even if he could, and he won’t say a word afterwards,” Wallis sneered, “And Little Ada won’t, either.”

Rollison almost gasped: “They’ve got to! They’re witnesses, you wouldn’t dare—”

“They won’t dare,” Wallis said, and laughed triumphantly. “I’ve got them just where I want them. Haven’t I, Ada?” He put out a hand and caught Ada’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, and thrust her back, so that her little heart-shaped face was imprisoned. “You’ll keep your pretty little trap shut because of what I can do to poor Reggie, won’t you? Like to know where her kid brother is, Rollison?” He lowered his voice so that it could not carry outside; but the tape recorder was only a few feet away from him, and the door of the room was wide open. “Little Reggie didn’t think he was getting enough from the Jepson business, so do you know what he started to do? He started to supply goods to one or two selected wholesalers who paid him in cash. No bills or invoices, and his signature was good enough on the orders. That’s what little Reggie did. But he forgot to stop little Jimmy Jones from poking around, and Jones found out about Bishopps. Know what I did! I had Jones beaten up and his home smashed up, with plenty more to come if he ever talked. And then I fixed sweet Ada.”

Ada said tensely: “Rolly, I simply had to do what he told me. He’s hidden Reggie somewhere, I don’t know where. He’s got a lien on Reggie’s holdings in the business. He owns nearly all the small wholesale firms we deal with, and—”

“That’s enough!” Wallis rasped. “Get going, Rollison. See what it’s like when you start running this gauntlet.”

Three of the youths were in the doorway, and each wore a knuckle duster. One held a length of rope, with a noose tied, and soon he would throw and drop that noose over Rollison’s shoulders.

“Want them to come and get you?” Wallis rasped. “Why don’t you take what’s coming to you like a man?”

Rollison gulped. “Donny,” he said, and swallowed his words and then started again. “Donny, how did he get you?”

“He got a hold on one of my sons,” Donny answered quietly. “The boy began by buying a lot of goods cheaply, including hair, but didn’t tell me about it. Then we discovered that the hair had been cut off the girls’ heads and stolen, but it was too late to go to the police. My boy was too deeply involved—he could never have proved he didn’t know he was buying stolen goods. Wallis had blackmailed another of my sons into buying stolen goods for the shops, too. Whenever I or my family tried to fight back, we were threatened with violence or betrayal to the police. There was undoubtedly a strong case against us, Mr. Rollison. I was literally helpless. I hoped that if I said nothing to the police, Wallis would stop persecuting me, but—it became worse. He knew about my property. He began to blackmail me into selling some of it to him at low prices. He had me and my family absolutely in the thrall of terror, Mr. Rollison. And when you came to see me, he had Leah and Lila, my unmarried daughters, shorn of their hair, and threatened their lives if I told you the truth.”

“I see,” said Rollison very softly. “It was Wallis himself who attacked that barber who wouldn’t sell out, was it?”

“I knew nothing of it until afterwards, Mr. Rollison. If you loved your children as I do, then—”

“That’s the boy, that’s the doting parent,” Wallis sneered. “Any sacrifice for his kids. Know your trouble, Donny? You had too many kids, some of them had to be bad for you and good for me. Okay, Rollison, now you know it all. You can take your secret to the grave!”

He laughed on a deep, roaring note.

Now get going like I tell you!”

Rollison said in a different voice, and in a different manner, almost marvelling.

“So that’s it, is it? Well, well. The power behind Tiny Wallis is Tiny Wallis. You thought all this up for yourself. Very smart indeed, Tiny. I congratulate you. No one would believe that the man behind a plot like this would do his own strong-arm work. Brilliant. And nearly good enough, Tiny, but not quite.”

Wallis called roughly: “Take him, boys!” and pushed Rollison towards the trio in the front doorway. The rope curled through the air and fell over Rollison’s shoulders. Wallis held him tightly so that it worked its way down his arms and pinioned them to his sides. The crowd was whooping in delight as the trio in the doorway pulled at the rope and dragged Rollison towards them.

Rollison said: “They might even hang you, Wallis. You’ll be back in dock tomorrow, and you’ll never get away.”

“Shut your big mouth!”

“Tiny,” his wife said in a scared voice, “supposing he means it?”

“He’d like to,” Wallis said. “ Take him away!” The three youths tugged . . .

As they did so, car horns sounded not far off, and from the corner of the street there came the cry: “The cops!” There was a moment of stillness; then car engines sounded, as if the drivers were in a hurry, and the crowd began to melt away.

But behind Rollison there was Micky Clay; so he had been released, too.

In front of him was Wallis.

And he himself was pinioned and helpless. Clay spoke for the first time: “We can do him, Tiny. We don’t need the others.”

“Keep your hands off him,” Wallis snapped hurriedly. “It was okay if the boys did it, they couldn’t blame me for that, but we can’t fix him here. Keep your hands off!” Clay looked like a disappointed cretin. “Rollison,” Wallis went on, “don’t get ideas. You’ve worked with the police for once, but they won’t be able to protect you all the time, and Donny won’t talk and nor will Ada. Not now or any time. Because they know I’ve got everything laid on, if they pull me down, they pull all the rest down. And everything I’ve done is legal, see. Donny’s made over half his property to me, Reggie Jepson will make over his shares in Jepsons or I’ll show the world he’s a bigger crook than I am. His sister wouldn’t like that—would you, Ada? I’m going to be one of the Big City Boys. Don’t try to get in my way any more.”

The police were at the door. Two cars were outside. The youths had gone, and the neighbours who watched from the other side of the street kept close to their windows and doors. The Divisional man, Harrison, was at the head of the police.

Wallis said: “What do you want? If you’ve got a warrant to search the house, okay. If you haven’t, get out.” He waited and when Harrison looked at Rollison, went on roughly:

“That aristocratic playboy can’t help you. Get out.”

Rollison said: “I won’t be a moment, Harrison.” He worked the rope off his arms and pushed past Ada and Donny into the front room. He stretched up for the tape recorder, took it down, closed it, and handed it to Harrison. “You’ve got everything, everything there you can possibly need. If you want a temporary charge to hold him on, I charge him with being in possession of property knowing it to have been stolen.”

“It’s a crazy lie!” Wallis roared. “I never keep any hot stuff here.”

“And you’ll find it hidden behind the books in the front room,” Rollison said coldly.