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PROLOGUE
The distant rattle of a bottle against the cobbles accompanied the discordant shriek of a disturbed feline. The only other living being out at this time of the night was a figure in black. Darker than the shadows, he melted into an alley between two of the luxurious mansions on the quiet residential street in London, and waited. His eyes scanned all around, searching every dip and hollow of the shadows as he waited for the silence to settle about him once more.
He had no fear of what he did. He was just wary, and had every right to be given what he was about to do. Slipping his gloves onto his warm hands, he crept into the darkness and disappeared over a high brick wall as silently as the feline who preceded him.
Minutes later, he carefully scrutinised the mansion from his sheltered position beneath a huge willow tree. It looked too posh, too big, and far too white to be looked upon favourably. The people who usually inhabited such places were mostly inbred, and ignorant. If there was one thing that irritated him more than anything it was a bloody aristocrat. They had far too much money for their own good, most of them, considerably more than anyone else ever got, and it wasn’t right or fair. They thought it gave them the right to be rude, and behave more criminally than most of the people in gaol.
As far as he was concerned, the bloody fools deserved everything they got. Tonight, they got robbed – well, the owner of this particular property would.
“Toffs,” he breathed.
His weathered face broke into a grin as he eyed the window he would use to get inside. He relished the challenge that lay ahead. Getting inside did not pose the insurmountable hurdle it would for many people. To him, it was easy. He had plenty of practice. He had been doing it nearly all of his life. It was his job, and a job worth doing was worth doing well. He loved it, especially when his victims were rich and arrogant.
He took his first step only to swear in disgust when the faint echo of distant footsteps reached his ears. Instinctively melting back into the shadows, he waited for the sound to pass. He was only a few feet away from his goal, but he still wasn’t prepared to take unnecessary risks.
His contact had given him a rough sketch of the downstairs floor so he knew exactly where he should find the safe. As soon as the news had reached him earlier this evening that the occupants of the house were out, he knew it was time to make his move. His goal: to relieve the titled and wealthy owners of a set of precious gems worth a small fortune.
Flexing his fingers, he waited for the footsteps to fade, then confidently strode across the garden. There was no reason to believe that tonight wouldn’t go as well as every other night he had raided homes like these. Security was usually lax, and extended to nothing more than feeble window locks which could be released by people like him in a heartbeat. Getting inside would pose no problem, he was sure of it; and it didn’t.
“Stupid people, one and all,” he muttered as he slid the window at the side of the kitchen gardens upward without hindrance. It hadn’t even been locked.
For a moment, he was glad he had no money, not least because it afforded him more intelligence than the snobs who lived in such places. He had learned to live by his wits, and protect what he had because there was always somebody else after it. Rich people didn’t seem to recognise that if they flaunted their wealth, people who weren’t so fortunate were apt to make plans to try to share it. Still, their laziness gave people like him a living so he couldn’t complain too much.
Once the window was up, he peeked inside the room. Nothing stirred. Not a sound could be heard. His heart thundered as the thrill of what he was about to do swept through him. This time, his motive was fuelled by a renewed sense of purpose he had never experienced before because tonight, he had a different reason to carry out this job.
What his boss wasn’t aware of was that he wasn’t going to steal the gems his boss wanted. This time, he would take more, a lot more. He was sick and tired of skulking around at night, stealing precious gems to order, and going home with a mere pittance in return. He wanted more, much more. Like his dues; and the ability to start afresh somewhere far away. As far as he saw, his boss made a lot of money out of the hard work and efforts of men like him, Victor, and it was about time Sayers learned to share a little.
Victor sighed. He didn’t intend to spend the rest of his life as a lackey being told what to do, where to go, and what he should think. He wanted more. He wanted a life, preferably somewhere away from London. Somewhere he and his sister were able to live without starving, freezing in winter, or being over-run by rats.
With the mental image of the kind of house he wanted for himself firmly fixed in the back of his mind, Victor climbed into the room. Once inside, he scrutinised the opulence of the study in more detail. There was nothing unusual about it; it was stuffed full of the usual pieces of furniture the occupants of the house hardly ever used. It held little interest for him. What mattered to Victor was the safe tucked neatly behind a huge portrait above the mantle. His grin widened when his gaze landed on the steel door of the safe buried predictably within the wall behind the picture.
“Well, there you are,” he whispered, his voice a mere breath.
Digging into his shirt, he opened his pouch of tools and set to work. Seconds later, the safe door quietly clicked. He swung it open and studied the bounty awaiting him. Carefully selecting his ill-gotten gains, he began to pocket the items he wanted for himself. Once those were carefully tucked into his pouch, his searched the rest of the contents for the jewels his boss had ordered.
Before he closed the door, he removed the last item he was after: an intricately carved wooden box. He then closed the door and the re-positioned the picture. Rather than leave, he placed his precious burden on the table, directly in steady beam of moonlight, and tentatively lifted the lid. Not only did he need to make sure that he had the right item, but he wanted to see for himself what his boss had ordered.
When he lifted the lid, something unusual caught his eye. He moved the expensive but rather nondescript diamond necklace and bracelet set Sayers wanted to one side, and lifted one of the two small boxes resting in the bottom of the box. His grin widened when he saw the glittering jewels crammed into the tiny receptacle. Even in the gloomy light they looked expensive. The brilliant sheen of the coloured gems warned him that they were ev
en more valuable than the diamonds his boss wanted. As far as Victor was concerned, they were now his. Sayers hadn’t mentioned them so Victor didn’t see why he should hand them over to his boss.
“All for me, I think,” he whispered.
He quietly snapped the lid closed and shoved them into his pouch and then turned his attention to the second box. It too was stuffed full of gems. He knew from how they also glittered in the night that they were worth a lot of money. Shoving those into his pouch as well, he replaced the diamonds with the rest of the items for his boss into the box.
“If Sayers wants the box then Sayers is going to get the box,” Victor breathed as he tucked it into his cloak pocket. “I will keep the rest for myself.”
Pleased with his hoard, he swiftly walked toward of the window. Once there, he threw one leg outside and disappeared into the garden. The window slid down as effortlessly and silently as he had stolen the goods.
With a smirk of satisfaction Victor scurried across the garden to re-join civilisation.
Minutes later, his gait was jaunty as he merged into the assembled pedestrians milling down the main thoroughfare of Regent Street. He didn’t care who saw him now. He had done his bit and, as long as nobody tried to peek inside his bag, he was safe to go home.
For the first time in a very long time he began to feel hope. Hope that life could one day shine down upon him and bring him the same riches other people took for granted. Then he might be able to find some way out of the awful mess his life had turned into.
“So? Did you get it?” A young girl suddenly piped up from beside him.
She glared pointedly at the burlap sack hanging over one shoulder and jostled from one foot to the other as she tried to get a better view of it.
Victor sighed and glanced cautiously around them before he threw her a dark glare.
“I told you not to be so nosy, June,” he growled.
“But did you get it?” she persisted with an unrepentant grin.
The glee in her eyes warned him that she wouldn’t give in until she had the answer she wanted.
“It ain’t ours, is it?” he warned her. “So it don’t matter to the likes of you.”
June’s enthusiastic smile dimmed a little, but he still wouldn’t mollify her. Terrence Sayers hated blabbermouths. If Victor told his sister anything, and Sayers found out, the gangster would stop her spreading her gossip to anybody else by any means necessary – including death.
“Remember who is involved in this, June. It won’t do you any good to gobblemonger to all and sundry about it so keep this closed.” He pointed purposefully toward his mouth and accompanied the gesture with a stern glare.
To his disgust, his stark warning made no impression on his sister, and did little to dim her enthusiasm.
“I ain’t goin’ to tell nobody. Who would I tell?” She held her hands up palms out beseechingly.
Victor sighed, but still couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by the happy twinkle in her eyes and the dimples in her cheeks. She looked like a mischievous chimney sweep all smudged and dirty as she was. With her dress torn and her hands grubby he knew she had been begging. From the slight bulge in her dress pocket he suspected she had earned a pretty penny too. Still, he took no delight in it. It re-enforced his need to get her home as quickly as possible, and get them both to a better area before she too became mired in her crimes and ended up like him.
“Keep your nose out of Sayers’ business, and that’s an order,” he snapped.
He forced his brows into a deep scowl and waited. This time, her smile disappeared completely and turned into a frown of discontent. Rather than continue to pester she eyed the bag somewhat sullenly. To his disgust, guilt settled over him. He hated to see that expression on her face. With a deep sigh, he ushered her to one side of the busy path and moved closer so they weren’t overheard by the passing pedestrians.
“We ain’t goin’ to be doin’ this for too much longer,” he reminded her. “I don’t need you stickin’ your nose into things that don’t concern you.”
“You say that we are goin’, but when?” she interjected. “You ain’t got no plan to get us out of ‘ere, Victor Mainton, and you know it.”
“Keep your mouth shut and leave it to me. Now go home ‘cos if mam finds out you are out here at this time of night you’re goin’ to get the strap, and that’s a fact.”
“She won’t be best pleased when she finds out you have been thievin’ for Sayers again, and that’s a fact,” she replied cheekily.
The man shook his head but didn’t waste the time admonishing her. Instead, he glanced up and down the road and hustled her deeper into the shadows of a nearby alley. Leaning toward her, he dropped his voice to a sinister whisper.
