The Adventure of the Deverill Diamonds

The next day, after we had washed ourselves in the downstairs sink and put on our old clothes (me in the blue satin dress from the ball, Sam in his now dry clothes), we headed out to Hoxton and the Britannia Theatre, where I knew Hettie Deverill worked.

We said very little to one another on the way there. I knew now about the death of Sam’s father, but he did not know that I knew. Somehow, knowing that made it difficult for me to talk about anything else. Other topics for conversation popped into my head briefly but they were always replaced with thoughts of the one-eyed killer on the bridge in the dead of night.

Sam, for his part, enjoyed the new-found silence of his companion. For one thing it meant that I was not annoying him by talking about Leland Deverill and my theories concerning his part in the attack on his uncle and the theft of the Deverill Diamonds. For another, he enjoyed the quiet. He had no qualms, no social awkwardness, about being with another person on an hour’s walk in total silence. In fact, I think he preferred it.

I had agreed with Sam (mostly because I felt bad about his father’s murder) that we would follow Hettie Deverill for the day. Initially, he was surprised that I had agreed to his plan of the previous night but he took it in his stride. In my head I made a deal that we would follow her today and then track Leland Deverill tomorrow.

We arrived at the Britannia Theatre by mid-morning. It was a fairly grubby and run down building, but the theatre was obviously doing a roaring trade. Playbills outside the building proclaimed a wide variety of acts on offer : “Jovial Joe Colverd - the Comic Vocalist” ; “The Vaudeville Comedy Drama - Joseph’s Sweetheart” ; “The Laughable Piece de Circumstance - Fortune’s Frolic!” and, at the top of the bill, “Hands Across the Sea by Henry Petitt” starring, among several others, “Miss Hettie Deverill as Lillian Melford”. Under the title of this play was a brief explanation of the plot to entice in more customers: “A scheming woman carries out a dastardly murder and blames it on her rival in love!” When I read this aloud to Sam he raised an eyebrow at me as if to say “see? I told you she was a murderer.” I ignored him and his blasted eyebrow.

We tried (unsuccessfully) to creep in at the stage door. A burly man called Figgis guarded it ferociously and we had no chance. As well as being the size of a small terraced house Figgis was also the owner of a pitbull dog, whom he referred to as “Killer”, and whom he promised to set on us if he “ever saw us round ’ere again.”

As such we spent a long and tedious day pointlessly crouched behind some boxes in the alleyway that led to the stage door, peeking out occasionally, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hettie Deverill.

In total we saw her twice. The first time was when she arrived with her son James. She kissed him lovingly on the head and gave him an embrace. I tried to remember the warmth of the embrace that Hettie Deverill had given to me in the hospital room but did not show it on my face (as Sam was watching like a hawk for my reaction).

“Don’t worry darling,” she said to James, crouching down to his level, “only a few more days and then you’ll never have to go up the chimneys again. I promise.”

James nodded and walked off down the road. Hettie turned, knocked on the stage door, where a calm and polite Figgis let her in with a surprisingly cordial “Mornin’ Miss Hettie”.

Sam attached great importance to the fact that James had only a few more days of sweeping the chimneys ahead. In his mind it meant that Hettie had pawned a diamond and that they were going to leave the country together soon. I refused to believe her capable of any such thing and Sam and I reached a stalemate where silence was once again the order of the day.

The second time we saw her was as she left the Theatre - rehearsals for her next play over for the day. Between our first sighting of her and the second the time had gone incredibly slowly, even more so as Sam and I did not really talk very much. She left the stage door, looking radiant as ever, and was stopped in her tracks by Leland Deverill who ran up to her from out of nowhere, out of breath and red-faced.

“Sis’, I can’t be there tonight.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. James was looking forward to seeing you again. Why not?”

“Summink’s come up. A meetin’. At the docks at midnight.”

“What kind of meeting Leland? And who has meetings at midnight?” asked Hettie with great suspicion in her voice.

He looked around furtively as if to check he wasn’t being spied on and then said:

“Can’t say no more. More than me life’s worth. I’ll speak to ya soon.”

With that he was gone and so was she. As we followed her to her home I was excited by what we had just heard. We knew that Leland was mixed up with the Red Razor Gang and he was going to meet them! I turned to Sam, delight in my face and said:

“A meeting! Tonight! At midnight!”

“And?” he asked laconically.

“It’s obvious isn’t it? He’s going to sell his diamonds tonight!”

“He don’t ’ave the diamonds!”

And so we went on. Having recorded this repetitive conversation several times now I shall not bore you by recounting it here. You must be as sick of hearing it as we were. Suffice to say Sam thought Hettie Deverill the guilty party and I thought Leland to be. Neither of us would budge.

“We watch ’Ettie again tomorra. Agreed?” he asked me.

“Why don’t you watch Hettie and I’ll keep an eye on Leland?”

“We do everyfing togevver. Remember? That’s the condition of working togevver.”

“But we should be at that meeting tonight! It’s important Sam! I feel it!”

Sam would not budge. He insisted that, whatever Leland was up to, it was dangerous and had nothing to do with the case we were supposed to be investigating. I did not argue as much as I normally would have because I was trying to be less annoyed with Sam on account of the death of his father. Nevertheless… I was rankled and frustrated by his stubbornness.

I made a silent pact to myself - I would creep out of the Wiggins house tonight and would go to the meeting on the docks alone. Sam would not have to know. I would go and come back in the dead of night and he would be none the wiser. We were supposed to be a team and to do everything together - I knew that. But, as far as I was concerned we were not doing things together. Sam was immoveable. His opinion was the right one and that was that. I was stung by his arrogance and his unwillingness to listen to my point of view. If he would not listen to me, I would act alone.

Having seen Hettie back to her front door we returned to Sam’s house, saying very little to one another. Mrs Wiggins had made us a lovely dinner and we ate it in almost total silence. Mrs Wiggins had also very kindly peeled me some apples for afters and left them and a small knife on the table for me. Mrs Wiggins kept striking up a conversation and Sam and I would answer in one or two words answers. She knew something was wrong but, good-naturedly, left Sam and I to sort it out ourselves.

Night fell and I told them both that I was exhausted and needed to sleep. I got the feeling that Sam did not believe me fully, his eyes narrowed slightly as I said it, but Mrs Wiggins believed me wholeheartedly (making me feel guilty and wretched) and insisted I go to bed and that she and Sam would leave me to it.

I lay in the bed (in the night-things Mrs Wiggins had left for me again), the blanket pulled up to my chin and watched the clock tick slowly round to 11pm. As soon as 11 o’clock came I slid out of bed, pulled down some of Sam’s clothes from the rope (a jacket and some trousers), put them on and slipped on my shoes. I did not want to be recognisable and Sam’s dark clothes were much more suited to this kind of work.

I turned the key slowly in the lock, not wanting Sam or Mrs Wiggins to know that I was leaving, and pulled open the door (which made a tiny creak that made me wince). As I was about to leave, my eye caught the gleam of the small knife sitting on the table. Not knowing what I was going to the docks to face, and unwilling to end up at Leland’s mercy once more, I tiptoed over to the kitchen table, picked up the knife and slipped it into my trouser pocket. Then, like a thief in the night, I crept out of the door and sped off into the darkness and the coming danger.

Making my way to the docks was much less scary in boy’s clothes than it would have been in my satin dress. Everyone avoided me, assuming I was just a filthy street urchin, and I made it to the dockside unscathed and totally ignored. I arrived just before midnight and made my way tentatively to the area where the Aurora was docked. I could hear voices from ahead of me and I walked very slowly down among all the ships, wary of stepping on anything that might make a noise. I ducked in behind some crates that were stacked up on the quayside.

As I arrived at the docks it began to rain. Light drips at first, but soon it was coming down in a torrent. It was going to be another night where I ended up soaked to the skin. Hurrah….

The night was pitch dark and I peeped through the slats in the crates to try and see what was happening. There were some figures standing at the bottom of the gangplank of the Aurora. The only figure I could make out with any certainty was Leland Deverill (unmistakeable from the width of his shoulders and his sailor’s hat). He was talking and was surrounded by five other men, whom it was very hard to see (clothed as they were in all-black). Worryingly, there was no sign of Kakana, although perhaps he was below decks, getting some much needed rest from threatening strangers with daggers. Leland was holding the tin chest close to him, as he had done when Sam and I had seen him.

There was one man standing stock still listening to what Leland was saying. He was over six feet tall and stockily built. He looked like he was in charge of the others as all the figures in black seemed to be looking at him instead of Leland (who was speaking). He was a commanding presence in that group, not moving at all, just standing with arms straight by his sides, his hands clenched into fists. His stillness made me intrigued to see more of him, but he had his back to me and so I could not make out his features.

I needed to be closer to the action, that much was clear. I could hear that Leland was speaking but I could not determine what he was saying at all. The patter of the rain had become much louder, making it even more difficult to understand what was being said. There was no point in my lying to Sam and creeping out here unless I could hear more than muffled voices. I needed to go back with evidence.

Ahead of me I spied another stack of crates. I would have to creep over to them. But I had to be cautious. I could hear Sam’s voice in my head saying that Leland’s business was “dangerous and nothing to do with the case.” I had no desire to be in Leland’s clutches again with a knife pressed to my throat but I knew I had to know what he was up to. This was the meeting at which he would sell the Diamonds. Of that I was certain. And I had to catch him in the act. If not me, then who? Inspector Wakefield and P.C. Ned Burdon were nowhere to be seen..

I gulped my fear down and, as slowly as I could, tiptoed out from behind the crates. The next pile of crates were only ten feet ahead of me, but it may as well have been a great chasm to me. Every step I took made my heart race faster. Every second I felt sure I would be seen. Every instinct I had told me to go faster but, agonisingly, I knew that I had to take my time. To step on something noisy or place my feet down too loudly would have meant capture and then goodness knows what..

My heart was beating so hard I became certain that they could hear it. But instead Leland continued to talk, no doubt fixing the tall man with those dastardly grey eyes of his, and no-one looked my way at all.

The pile of crates was just a yard ahead of me. One more step and I would be safely hidden behind them and able to eavesdrop. I lifted my left leg very gradually so I was stood with that leg suspended in mid-air, ready to place it softly behind the crates. This was it… I gently moved it forwards… Yes… I was nearly there…. Gently… gently….

“AAAAHHHHH!!”

Without warning I was crushed to the ground! Someone had jumped on me, seemingly from nowhere! My body crumpled under the weight of my attacker and my face hit the soaking wet wood of the jetty with great force.

“Intruder, Leland!” shouted my assailant and I recognised the voice at once.

Kakana! He alone had seen my approach. He had, no doubt, been skulking in the shadows out of sight on lookout duty. What a numbskull I was! I was captured!

I heard the sound of running feet and I was suddenly being dragged to my feet by my hair. No need to wonder who was doing that to me - Leland Deverill! He wrenched me up and then dragged me over to the side of the Aurora, where, wincing in agony, I looked around me as best I could.

“Let go of ’er ’air, Leland,” said a deep, husky voice. It was a voice that sounded as if it had smoked a thousand cigarettes a day for thirty years, but it was also a voice that carried on the air and made you stand still and listen. There was menace in it. Real menace.

The grip on my hair was released and my upper arms were grasped from behind instead. Leland still held me too tightly, but anything was better than having my scalp torn off. I looked up and, to my horror, I saw… him.

The tall man who had had his back to me was glowering at me through narrowed brown eyes. His hair was extremely short (as it had been in prison), his body long and muscly, everything about him cried out ‘danger’. On the left side of his face was a scar running all the way from his chin, through the corner of his mouth, and up to just under his eye. It was the scar he had gained in the knife-fight in prison, which I had seen reported in the newspaper. And this dark, evil presence was Eddie Holloway, the leader of the murderous Red Razor Gang. Leland’s meeting was with Eddie Holloway and the gang! My God! I was in even more danger than I had thought…

Eddie Holloway stood frozen with his hands still clenched into tight fists by his side and slightly inclined his head to one side in a gesture that implied coming violence as the rain cascaded down his torn face.

“No need to pull ’er ’air out is there? She looks like she could break easy. And that ain’t no way to treat a lady.”

I wrenched my eyes away from Holloway and looked around me in terror. I saw Kakana (looking at me with hatred in his eyes and his dagger drawn) and the five men in black. The men all wore identical long black coats, black trousers, shoes and shirts. This was obviously the uniform for the Red Razor Gang and it was truly intimidating. One member looked just like another, to escape recognition if caught I assumed.

My heart was beating so fast I thought I might die at any moment. For the first time I felt in real danger. Not the danger imagined by a child, like my vision of Death in the hospital, but real, life-threatening danger. There were eight men between me and freedom and all of them were a lot stronger and bigger than I was. They also, I was totally sure, had no qualms about killing a street girl and throwing her into the Thames.

“Who the bleedin’ ’ell are ya, girly?” asked Eddie Holloway, fixing me with those narrowed eyes of his, his hideous scar moving as his lips framed the words.

“ ’Er name’s Esther. Me sister told me. She’s me uncle’s neighbour. Gawd knows why she’s dressed like a boy.”

“I don’t remember askin’ you,” said Holloway menacingly, flicking his eyes to Leland.

“No. ’Course. Sorry Eddie,” whimpered Leland. How tough was this Eddie Holloway that Leland Deverill cowered before him? My heart sank even further and beat twice as fast.

“Now then,” said Holloway, his eyes flicking back to me, “who are ya?”

“I’m… He’s right,” I said with difficulty. My throat was completely dry and my voice croaked as I responded. “I’m Esther. I live next door to Mr Eugene Deverill.”

“Ol’ Deverill’s neighbour?” said Holloway, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

He thought for a moment, which felt like an age, his eyes not moving from mine, his brow furrowing. No-one else moved except me as I tried (unsuccessfully) to get free of Leland’s grip.

“So… What’s the story, girly? What the ‘ell you doin’ ere? The truth now. Or I’ll let ’em all loose on ya.”

I nodded, gulping hard.

“I’ve… I’ve been following him. I think he attacked his uncle and stole his diamonds.”

There was the slightest pause and then Holloway threw his head back as a hoarse laugh erupted from his mouth. All the gang joined in sycophantically. Then Leland started to laugh too in a rather obvious attempt to make Holloway like him and think him part of the gang. I was reminded of Peter Simpson cackling along to Noah Cartwright’s pathetic “jokes”. Holloway stopped laughing and all the other laughter stopped a beat later. He turned his eyes on me again.

“And what makes you fink this clown ’as got the gumption to pull off a stunt like that, girly?”

Leland shifted his grip uncomfortably on my upper arms.

“I think he got his friend there,” I said, nodding towards Kakana, “to scale the building, climb down the chimneystack, cosh his uncle and take his diamonds. Kakana then climbed back out, brought the diamonds to the Aurora and they now sit in that chest!”

I was starting to get my courage back at last. My voice was louder and my throat less dry. Although my heart was still pounding and the situation looked bleak they had not killed me yet. And the more I talked the more time I bought myself.

“He has been guarding that chest, clutching it to him, as if it were the most precious cargo on Earth…”

“Oh, it’s precious cargo, girly,” sneered Holloway, his ripped lip curling. “It’s my precious cargo. In’t that right fellas?”

The gang grunted their assent.

“But it ain’t diamonds girly. Although diamonds’d be nice, I don’t fink Leland’s got the brains or the nerve for the job, do you?… I said, ‘do you’?”

“Um… No…” My arms were squeezed tighter.

“If ’e ’ad, I’d get ’em off ’im in the blink of an eye. I fancy meself ‘avin’ some diamonds. Could buy a lot of gear with some diamonds. And I ‘ear they was the best of the best. Some o’ the most precious diamonds in the world, that right?”

I stood stock still and made no reply. Holloway’s eyes glistened for a moment at the thought of owning some diamonds.

“Well, Esther was it? As you’ve come all the way over ’ere in this filthy weather, ’ot on the trail of a thief, it seems only fair to tell you the truth.”

One of the men - pale with fat, red cheeks - took two steps towards Holloway.

“Eddie… I don’t reckon that’s a great idea….”

In a flash, Eddie Holloway pulled a cutthroat razor from his pocket and had it at the man’s neck!

“You don’t ’ave ideas, Burrell. I do. Are we clear?”

The fat man nodded furiously. Holloway kept his razor at the man’s throat as he turned his attention to me.

“Esther ’ere deserves an explanation I reckon. Least we can do before I let Leland cut ’er throat and dump ’er body in the river.”

I gulped audibly. My eyes widened in horror. I had to think of a way out of this situation. But how? What could I do!

“Open the chest, Snorky,” said Holloway, turning his attention to another gang member (who had a face like the meanest of the sewer rats) and dropping the razor from Burrell’s neck (to Burrell’s great relief).

‘Snorky’, who was painfully thin and held an unlit cheroot between his meagre lips, walked over to the chest, which was now lying on the gangplank, lugged it over to where I was being held and opened it.

The chest was full to the brim with brown paper packages, one of top the other, all tied up with string.

“No diamonds in there is there, girly?”

I stayed silent, still thinking of a way out of my current predicament.

Holloway took his razor over to the chest, cut the string on one of the packages and folded back the brown paper so I could see what was inside. It was a strange, black block of some sort of tar-like substance. Holloway turned to look at me and, with a slight movement of his head, indicated that he was asking me for my opinion on the peculiar contents of the parcel. I had absolutely no idea what to say.

“What d’ya make o’ that girly?”

“Um…. Very nice.”

Holloway laughed his dry laugh again. Leland and the gang joined him like the fawning sycophants that they were.

“You ain’t got a clue ’ave ya?”

I shook my head to confirm my complete ignorance.

“It’s opium, girly. Opium. Leland ’ere smuggles it in from Asia for me, for a small fee of course. This is it in its pure form. I take it from ‘im, my boy in the lab ekes it out, gettin’ it just right for my customers, and I send it out to my contacts around the country for a big profit. Shut the chest up boys. Don’t want it gettin’ too wet do we?”

So Leland was a smuggler for the Red Razor Gang! Not a diamond thief but a drug smuggler! For this information I had risked my reputation as a detective. For this information I had crept across the dirty city in the middle of the night dressed in boys’ clothing. And for this information - I was about to die a horrible death on a rain-soaked jetty.

“You see, Esther, I got the transport system tied up. Got my own private trains, canal barges, cabs and boats. People what’ll do anyfink for me at the drop of an ’at. People on the trains, on the rivers, on the roads. I can get my stuff anywhere in the country in the blink of an eye and there ain’t nuffink the coppers can do about it. If Eddie Holloway wants to get anywhere in a hurry then he can and the coppers can’t do nuffink about it.” He smirked and added, “Impressive ain’t it?”

Holloway was evidently proud of his awful trade. He bought the lethal drug from Asia, coerced Leland Deverill to smuggle for him, distributed his noxious substance by a private transport network, all so this terrible drug could wreck the lives of poor addicts around the country. All so suffering people could suffer more and he could make more wretched money. His pride in it made me angry and my anger made me reckless.

“If you’re impressed by a disgusting criminal enterprise run by a loathsome, corrupt, criminal pig, then yes, I suppose it is impressive,” I spat. “Personally I was more impressed the last time I examined the contents of my lavatory bowl.”

Holloway’s self-satisfied smirk vanished. His scar straightened out on the side of his face and his eyes narrowed. I thought for a terrifying moment that he was going to strike out with his razor, sending me to my death there and then. Instead he said:

“You got guts, girly. I’ll give ya that. I’m sure you won’t mind if Leland slits you open so we can look at your guts close up?”

Suddenly Leland’s right forearm was around my neck, squeezing my neck very tightly. Without thinking I immediately thrust my now-loose right hand into the pocket where I had stashed the small knife. My hand closed firmly around its handle. I had no idea what I was going to do next. I only knew I was not going down without a fight. I stuck my chin out and clamped my lips together defiantly.

“Kill ’er, Leland,” growled Holloway.

“Wait!” I shouted - a thought suddenly whizzing into my head.

“What?” asked Holloway.

“Do you know Chief Constable Ulysses Morstan-Eyre?”

Holloway looked momentarily puzzled by this odd question. His puzzlement was soon replaced with annoyance.

“Yeah. I know ’im.. ’E’d kill ’is own muvver if ’e thought it’d get ’im further up the ladder. Morstan-Eyre’s arrested ’undreds of thousands of people. Normally on trumped up charges. And if there’s one fing I ‘ate more than sneaky girls skulkin’ around my drug deals it’s a corrupt copper! And Morstan-Eyre’s the worst of the bunch. Wass your point, girly?”

“He’s my Father,” I answered, trying to take in what I had just heard about my father’s corruption.

I could see Holloway’s annoyance disappear to be replaced by shock. Leland’s hold on my neck became a little looser and I knew that if he just loosened his grip more I could carry out the rash and ill-advised ‘plan’ that was formulating in my brain.

“Your father?” asked Holloway.

“Yes. My name is Esther Morstan-Eyre. The favourite child of the Chief Constable. Although I am his adopted daughter he loves me as if I were his own. In fact we adore one another.” (All total hogwash of course, but needs must…) “It’s because of him that I came here tonight.”

“Because of him how?” asked Leland from behind me, a slight tremor of fear in his voice.

I improvised wildly hoping for my chance.

“He’s onto you all. He was talking over dinner about the Red Razor Gang, (he always talks to me about his cases ’though he probably shouldn’t), saying how close he was to capturing you all.”

Holloway remained silent but I could tell that my mad fiction had rattled the rest of his gang. They all began to talk quietly to one another behind him.

“He knows that someone was bringing the opium in from Asia but he isn’t sure who. I said I would help him.” I threw the next sentences over my shoulder to Leland. “It was he who sent me to the hospital, hoping you would turn up and accidentally let slip your planned meeting with Holloway. You didn’t so I followed you all day today. At the theatre I heard you telling your sister that you were coming to meet Holloway tonight. I told my Father.”

Leland relaxed his grip on me a little more. I could tell that the detail about my eavesdropping on his conversation at the theatre had thrown him. Holloway held up his hand and the chattering behind him stopped immediately. He eyeballed me for a moment and then barked:

“So where is ’e? ’Cause ’e ain’t ’ere is ’e? It’s just you girly…”

“I told him the meeting time was a quarter past midnight instead of midnight. I wanted to catch you myself. You see it’s his birthday next week,” (this story was getting madder by the second but my brain was in overdrive and my mouth simply went along for the ride) “and I have bought him so many gifts over the years that there was nothing left that I could get him. So I thought ‘I know, I’ll catch Leland Deverill myself’. That can be my present to him. So I told him a quarter past but I came here for midnight.”

“You know what I fink, girly?”

“In a few minutes,” I went on, ignoring the question, “the entire metropolitan police force will come haring around that boat, fully armed and ready to take you all prisoner.”

Leland’s grip loosened a little more. I was almost there.

“I fink you’re makin’ this all up. I fink you ain’t nuffink but a liar,” sneered Holloway.

“But what if she’s tellin’ the truth Eddie?” asked Leland suddenly, fear in his voice.

“She ain’t. I can see it in ’er eyes.”

“But she might be. We need to get out of ’ere!”

“She’s lyin’. Kill ’er.”

“Yes! Kill me!” I shouted. “Good idea! Kill the favourite daughter of the Chief Constable. The Chief Constable who has just been appointed judge by Sir Joshua Ryman. And watch him bring down vengeance upon you!”

“Eddie, whadda we do?” pleaded Leland, dropping his right arm from my neck completely. This was my moment!

I pulled the knife from my pocket and plunged it straight into Leland’s side. He howled in agony and surprise as blood started to gush forth from his wound. I was not waiting around to witness the spectacle however. I ran away from him as fast as I could!

The gang were in total confusion by what was happening and I dodged through Snorky and another man, although they made delayed efforts to grab me.

I was running for my life! As fast as I had ever run in my life! Away from them all down the rain-soaked jetty, my breath turning to smoke before me as I pelted through the huge droplets of rain bouncing off my face.

Behind me I could hear Holloway’s voice barking out orders and, within seconds, I knew I was being chased. The sound of multiple pairs of running feet behind me spurred me on. I ran for all I was worth! Although my legs ached and my face was numb with cold I would not stop!

I ran past boats, past barrels, past crates and through flocks of seagulls who scattered to the winds as I sped straight through the middle of them. I had no idea where I was running to. I only knew that I had to get away!

The gang were gaining on me. I knew that. Their confusion had only lasted for a few seconds and they were now on my tail, bigger and faster than me, catching me up with every passing boat.

Suddenly I saw a gap between two boats and ducked down it, speeding down another slippery wooden jetty that led I knew not where. Behind me I could hear them getting closer and closer. They were nearly upon me. In terror I looked back.

And then it happened. The wooden jetty ended, I tripped and I fell head first into the icy cold Thames! The water hit me like a block of ice. The pain of the cold was almost unbearable. I had fallen into the river! The gang’s running behind me came to a halt as they spotted the end of the jetty that I had not seen.

I knew that if I stopped moving forwards I was dead. They would pull me from the water and kill me. I collected myself in a second and I swam. I swam with all my might, plunging my numb hands through freezing water and propelling my raw body through the darkness. Away from the jetty, away from the gang, away from certain death.

Suddenly a shot rang out and something flew past my left ear. My God! They were shooting at me! They had brought guns to this meeting and they were going to shoot me dead in the water!

I sucked in as much air as I could, closed my eyes and I dived. I dived as deep as I could and I swam forwards, towards where the other side of the river must be. I could dimly hear muffled gunshots, but could not open my eyes under water to see where I was going. I simply swam, the water biting into my body, the cold like a million pins piercing my flesh.

My breath ran out and I resurfaced, still swimming forwards. I was at least twenty feet away from the jetty now, where the gang stood surrounding Eddie Holloway.

His voice echoed across the river as he shouted after me in that rasp of a voice:

“You ain’t seen the last of me, girly!”

My mind was too busy fighting the cold to care about his threat. One last shot sailed past my ear. I swam. I swam and I swam and I swam. My heart was beating fast and my body was almost numb with cold when I reached the other side of the river, hauling my icy body up onto mud and gravel.

I flopped onto my back and panted into the night sky above me. I gave myself a full ten seconds to get my breath back before I staggered to my feet and started to walk. I knew I could not stay still for too long. The Red Razor Gang had seen where I had swum too. Even now they could be heading down to a bridge to cross the river and come to finish me off. I looked around me, trying to fathom out where on Earth I had ended up.

To my astonishment, I recognised the streets that lay before me. And, to my surprise and joy, I realised that I knew someone who lived in one of these streets.

I half-walked and half-ran to his front door, my body shivering with cold, and rapped on it as loudly as I could.