Dodger Page 0,27
‘What have you found out?’
Dodger told him about the coach and the girl, with Charlie listening carefully to everything he said.
When he had finished, Charlie said, ‘So she saw no crest on the coach? What kind of foreign accent? French? German?’
Much to Charlie’s surprise, Dodger said firmly, ‘Mister Charlie, I know about what’s on coaches and I know to recognize most lingos, but you see that in this I’m just like you – I’m dealing with an informant who isn’t bright enough to know everything or notice much.’
Charlie looked at Dodger in the way that somebody would look at some sad accident and said, ‘You, Dodger, are what is known as a tabula rasa – Latin for a clean slate; you are smart, indeed, but you have so very little to be smart about! It grieves me, it really does, although I do see that you have had the sense to get some new clothes, the best a shonky shop could provide.’ He smiled when he saw Dodger’s expression and went on, ‘What? You don’t think the likes of me would know what a shonky shop is? Believe me, my friend, there are very few depths in this city that I haven’t plumbed as a matter of business. But on a lighter note, I expect you will like to hear that the young lady you rescued is recovering. I believe that no one has yet reported her missing – though there are indications that she is not some street waif, so her disappearance should have been reported. You understand? Although as yet she cannot speak very well – she seems incapable of explaining what may have happened to her – she does appear to understand English. As a matter of fact, I believe she is a foreigner – a very special foreigner, although I cannot tell you why I think this may be the case. And I suspect there is some excitement about this in high places. The crest on her ring is providing an interesting line of enquiry, and my friend Sir Robert Peel is being rather circumspect, leading me to believe that there is a game afoot. As you know, I write for newspapers, but not everything a newspaperman knows gets into print.’
A game, Dodger thought. He had to get into this game and win it. But what kind of game would lead to a girl being beaten like that? That kind of game he would have to stop. In the noise and smoke of the coffee house, under his breath, he said a prayer to the Lady, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he did so: ‘I ain’t never met you, missus, but you knew Grandad and I hope he’s with you now. Well, I’m Dodger, and Grandad has made me king of the toshers, and a little bit of help from yourself would certainly not go amiss. Thanking you in anticipation, yours, Dodger.’
Although the din in the coffee house was so great now that he could barely hear himself think, let alone hear any reply or anything else Charlie had to add, Dodger managed to say, ‘Well, if nobody has reported somebody missing, it may just be that they either don’t know they are missing, or hope to find the missing person before somebody else does, if you catch my meaning?’
‘Mister Dodger, you are a find! Between ourselves, I rather like the police, although I suppose that you do not; but what I really like about them is the concept they have, well, some of them, at least, that the law should apply to everybody, not just the poor people. I know the rookeries do not like the police; generally speaking, you will find in high places people who dislike them even more.’ He paused. ‘And you tell me your informant told you she was escaping from a carriage and pair, and a swell one at that. Find me that carriage, my friend, and who has lent their carriage to that vicious day’s work, and the world might be a better place, especially for you.’
There was a jingling again and Charlie put two half crowns on the small table, and smiled when they disappeared into Dodger’s pocket in one movement.
He said, ‘Incidentally, my colleague and friend Mister Mayhew and his wife would very much like to meet you again, and may I suggest sometime tomorrow? They are given to believe that you are an angel, albeit one with a dirty face, with a sweet nature and possibly useful