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would very much like to have a quiet word with you.’
Dodger looked into those eyes and they had ‘copper’ all over them. He thought: Is that always how it’s going to be? Always being the man who took down Sweeney Todd? Well, it was useful, no doubt about it, but somehow it was awkward as well, like wearing another man’s trousers, which in a sense was what he was doing right now. And the man was still watching him carefully, as if sizing him up.
People were now sitting down. Dodger was urged towards the chair next to Angela, with Simplicity already seated on his other side and Solomon beside her. Sir Robert – or ‘Dear Rob’, as Angela called him – sat on Angela’s other side.
In a lowered voice, Angela said to him, ‘Does it hurt? You wince when somebody calls you the Hero of Fleet Street. Do you not notice that? Charlie tells me that you are quite clear that people should know that the facts of the matter are not as they seem, and I suggest that you feel that every commendation for you is a damnation for Mister Todd, and I must say that this is to your credit. One feels there was another kind of heroism, of the kind which is often ignored. I will bear this in mind because I do have some influence. Sometimes a word in the right place can do a lot of good.’ She smiled then, and said, ‘Do you like it, scrabbling in the sewers for money? Tell the truth now!’
‘I don’t need to tell a lie,’ said Dodger. ‘It’s freedom, miss, that’s the truth, and pretty safe if you keep your wits about you and use your head. I reckon I earns more than a chimney sweep any day of the week, and soot, well it’s terrible stuff, miss, not good for you at all. Bad for you inside and out, my oath! But when I come back from the tosh, well, good old lye soap does the trick. Not what you would call fancy, but you do feel clean.’
The conversation had to stop there as waiters came past, and after the noise of the plates and the – oh so much – cutlery, Miss Burdett-Coutts said, ‘You appear to be everywhere and into everything, according to my informants, rather like the famous, or if you prefer, the infamous highwayman Dick Turpin. Have you heard of him, young man? What do you think about his extraordinary ride to York on his mare Black Bess? I believe they are doing plays about him now and the public just love him, because he was a scallywag.’
Looking apprehensively at the meal put in front of him, Dodger said, ‘I have heard about the gent, madam, and I like the way he put a shine on the world. But I think he was clever, and far too clever to ride all the way to York. Too risky, and while I have to say I ain’t – I beg your pardon, I am not – a horseman, I reckon that he would have knackered the horse within an hour if he’d done it as fast as they said. No, I reckon he rushed up to some of his mates what he knew to be not all that matey and shouted out something like, “Pray for me, my lads, for I am going to try to get to York this very night!” And o’ course, you see, you can be certain that when you have a price on your head like he did, his mates would have instantly peached on him to the runners within ten minutes, by which time, I’d bet you a crown, our friend Dick would be in the West End with his moustache a different colour, walking around with two sporting ladies arm-in-arm. That’s what’s clever; just legging it don’t do the trick, though I know they got him in the end. If I was him, I’d’ve dressed up as a priest and just laid low somewhere until everybody had forgotten about me. Sorry for the lecture, miss, but you did ask.’
Angela laughed. ‘Your reputation goes before you, Mister Dodger, as a young man of great courage and indeed understanding. Now it would seem you are a man of strategy and a breath of fresh air!’ She put her hand on his arm and said, ‘Are you a church-going man at all, Mister Dodger?’
‘No, miss. Take it from me, miss, Solomon