purse.’ He expected it to be handed over, as it always had been before, his victims fearful for their lives.
But the old man, too, had a weapon, a walking-stick, and defied him: ‘You scoundrel! I’ll give you nothing!’ He lashed out with the stick. Jasper was taken by surprise. He was too late to avoid the blow but deflected it so that it landed on his shoulder. He grunted with pain and rage, and madness gripped him. He beat down the walking-stick with his club and felled the old man, then belaboured him until the body lay still under his blows. He stooped over it, searched for and found the wallet. He took out the money, tossed aside the wallet and walked away.
He went to a squalid tavern near the room he rented. The men in there had already summed him up as dangerous and gave him room. The young woman serving behind the bar was small-waisted and big-busted in a grubby blouse. She wore a beer-stained white apron over her dark skirt, and had a bold eye. ‘Give us a pint, Flora,’ he ordered. He tossed some coins on to the counter, took a long pull at the beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. This was only the second time he had seen Flora, but he knew what she wanted. He looked her over deliberately and saw her breathe faster.
‘ Quiet in here tonight,’ he said. There were only a dozen in the bar and Flora was listlessly polishing glasses. She moistened her lips and nodded.
‘ So come out wi’ me and see a bit o’ life.’
‘ I’ll have to ask him.’
‘ Ask be buggered. Tell him. I’ll make you a better offer than he will.’
She went to the publican, taking off her apron. ‘I’m knocking off for the night.’
He scowled at her. ‘Wotcha mean? Ye can’t walk out whenever you like.’
‘ Aye, she can,’ Jasper said.
The publican glared at him, but shrugged and turned his back. Flora tossed her head and reached for her coat. Outside, her arm in his, she asked Jasper, ‘What’s this better offer you promised?’
‘ You’ll find out.’
He took her to a music-hall, then to a succession of pubs and bought her supper. At one point they peered in at a tattooist’s window. ‘Go on!’ she challenged him. ‘Get a picture done on your chest.’ He laughed but had it done: a naked female with the name Flora beneath. She almost blushed.
And at the end he took her to his bed.
* * *
Liza did not read the newspaper report of the murder in the alley, did not cross the path of Jasper Barbour, but one day his life would be bound up with hers.
6
SUMMER 1901, LONDON
Flora panted and moaned with passion. Her discarded clothes lay with Jasper ’s in a trail from the door to the big bed. A distant clock chimed one in the morning and he sighed and was still. Their coupling done she lay beside him. ‘What did you get tonight, then?’ she asked.
‘ A box wi’ a lot o’ jewellery and a purse full o’ sovereigns.’
‘ Let’s have a look.’ Flora rolled, naked, off the bed in a flailing of legs as Jasper watched. She padded downstairs to the hall, picked up the leather Gladstone bag and carried it back to the bedroom.
‘ Come here,’ Jasper said.
Flora glanced sideways at him, narrow-eyed. ‘You wait a minute.’ She up-ended the bag to empty its contents on to the carpet. ‘Ooh! Look!’ She picked out a gold necklace with a ruby pendant and slipped it over her head. The jewel gleamed in the valley between her breasts. ‘There’s some good stuff here.’ She shook the purse and counted the coins that fell out: ‘Twenty!’
Jasper reached for a bottle that stood by the bed, pulled out its cork with his teeth and drank from the neck. Now Flora climbed on to the bed again. ‘What can I have?’ she wheedled.
‘ No jewellery, I’ve told you that afore. If you go waltzing around wi’ diamonds hung all over you, people would wonder.’
Flora pouted, and reached out a hand to fondle him. ‘Well, can I have a housemaid in here to do some o’ the work about
But the old man, too, had a weapon, a walking-stick, and defied him: ‘You scoundrel! I’ll give you nothing!’ He lashed out with the stick. Jasper was taken by surprise. He was too late to avoid the blow but deflected it so that it landed on his shoulder. He grunted with pain and rage, and madness gripped him. He beat down the walking-stick with his club and felled the old man, then belaboured him until the body lay still under his blows. He stooped over it, searched for and found the wallet. He took out the money, tossed aside the wallet and walked away.
He went to a squalid tavern near the room he rented. The men in there had already summed him up as dangerous and gave him room. The young woman serving behind the bar was small-waisted and big-busted in a grubby blouse. She wore a beer-stained white apron over her dark skirt, and had a bold eye. ‘Give us a pint, Flora,’ he ordered. He tossed some coins on to the counter, took a long pull at the beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. This was only the second time he had seen Flora, but he knew what she wanted. He looked her over deliberately and saw her breathe faster.
‘ Quiet in here tonight,’ he said. There were only a dozen in the bar and Flora was listlessly polishing glasses. She moistened her lips and nodded.
‘ So come out wi’ me and see a bit o’ life.’
‘ I’ll have to ask him.’
‘ Ask be buggered. Tell him. I’ll make you a better offer than he will.’
She went to the publican, taking off her apron. ‘I’m knocking off for the night.’
He scowled at her. ‘Wotcha mean? Ye can’t walk out whenever you like.’
‘ Aye, she can,’ Jasper said.
The publican glared at him, but shrugged and turned his back. Flora tossed her head and reached for her coat. Outside, her arm in his, she asked Jasper, ‘What’s this better offer you promised?’
‘ You’ll find out.’
He took her to a music-hall, then to a succession of pubs and bought her supper. At one point they peered in at a tattooist’s window. ‘Go on!’ she challenged him. ‘Get a picture done on your chest.’ He laughed but had it done: a naked female with the name Flora beneath. She almost blushed.
And at the end he took her to his bed.
* * *
Liza did not read the newspaper report of the murder in the alley, did not cross the path of Jasper Barbour, but one day his life would be bound up with hers.
6
SUMMER 1901, LONDON
Flora panted and moaned with passion. Her discarded clothes lay with Jasper ’s in a trail from the door to the big bed. A distant clock chimed one in the morning and he sighed and was still. Their coupling done she lay beside him. ‘What did you get tonight, then?’ she asked.
‘ A box wi’ a lot o’ jewellery and a purse full o’ sovereigns.’
‘ Let’s have a look.’ Flora rolled, naked, off the bed in a flailing of legs as Jasper watched. She padded downstairs to the hall, picked up the leather Gladstone bag and carried it back to the bedroom.
‘ Come here,’ Jasper said.
Flora glanced sideways at him, narrow-eyed. ‘You wait a minute.’ She up-ended the bag to empty its contents on to the carpet. ‘Ooh! Look!’ She picked out a gold necklace with a ruby pendant and slipped it over her head. The jewel gleamed in the valley between her breasts. ‘There’s some good stuff here.’ She shook the purse and counted the coins that fell out: ‘Twenty!’
Jasper reached for a bottle that stood by the bed, pulled out its cork with his teeth and drank from the neck. Now Flora climbed on to the bed again. ‘What can I have?’ she wheedled.
‘ No jewellery, I’ve told you that afore. If you go waltzing around wi’ diamonds hung all over you, people would wonder.’
Flora pouted, and reached out a hand to fondle him. ‘Well, can I have a housemaid in here to do some o’ the work about
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