Edward Kane, Advocate in The Hanged Man. Chapter 14: ‘Lovely evening for a stroll, ennit?’

The following day

Mr Horse had been standing outside the Beehive Inn now for twenty minutes. Having been inside to try to catch Molly, the barmaid, he had encountered a less-than-friendly greeting – ‘Oh - it’s you again’ – by her truculent colleague, Evie. One of the regulars had pointed to the clock on the wall and remarked that Molly usually started at five o’clock, and it was just after four now.

Horse decided to have a wander in the Grassmarket while he waited. He stopped at the West Bow and gave a little smile to himself. Wasn’t it over here where they used to keep ‘The Maiden’? The old gallows for the public executions. That’s what the older folks said, anyway. Right here in the middle of the West Bow. An old fashioned gallows, it was. They would put your head through the wooden hole, then a great big sharp blade would come down and chop it off. And all in public. Wonder why they changed it to hanging? If they’d kept The Maiden going, then you wouldn’t have the likes of that Dr Balloch sitting up in the cart afterwards, would you! Horse had a sudden thought that made him chuckle: a vision of Dr Balloch holding his severed head under his arm – with the mouth saying: ‘Excuse me, could I have a drink of water?’

But who was that making their way through the crowds? Horse shouted: ‘Molly! Molly!’ The barmaid, friendly as ever, walked up and beamed at the manservant: ‘Horse – if it’s a drink you want, you’ll have to come into the pub, my friend.’

‘It’s not that, my girl, it’s what you said the other night – or didn’t say.’ The barmaid narrowed her eyes, puzzled. Horse continued: ‘When I said that I found nothing and I was raking through them ashes in the fireplace, you had a queer look on your face, my girl. What was that about?’

Molly blushed. Hesitant now. “Horse – the last thing I am is a tattle-tale. Believe me – the things I could tell you that I see in that place…’

The manservant frowned and cocked his head: ‘Spit it out, doll.’

‘When you said you found nothing in the fire…’

‘Yes?’

‘Is that right?’

Horse frowned: ‘You’re talking riddles now, Molly.’

‘You found nothing? Nothing at all?’

The manservant frowned, thought about it, puffed out his cheeks, then blew out the air: ‘Just ashes, girl. Nothing but ashes…’

‘Not even buttons?’

‘Buttons?’

Molly spoke to Horse as if he was stupid: ‘Buttons from the jacket. The jacket that Evie said had been put in the fire.’

Mr Horse stood there saying nothing, but a gradual understanding of what was being said began to creep over him. Molly sighed: ‘I don’t like that girl. Nobody does. We call her “Evie, the Thieve-y”

Horse closed his eyes and began to shake his head. The barmaid put her hand on his arm: ‘You’re not the first one to be fooled, Horse. and you won’t be the last.’ She stood back. ‘It’s nearly five. I’d better get to work and let “Thievy Evie” away.’ She began to walk away: ‘Have it out with her, Horse – but a word of warning. Her husband is just out of the jail. And he’s very big. And he is not what you might call “friendly”…’

****

A starless dusk when barmaid Evie and (a very large man that Horse assumed was) her husband left the common entrance to the tenement where they lived. Horse was stood on the corner, leaning on a lamp post in the lamplight and smoking his long clay pipe.

‘Lovely evening for a stroll, ennit?’

The man of the couple gave a sort of grunt of acknowledgement. Otherwise, the pair walked on, passing Horse without comment. Horse left it for a moment, then called out after them: ‘A bit of a nip in the air tonight. Had to put on me coat.’ He nodded over: Lucky you got that nice warm jacket, eh?’

The couple came to a dead halt first. Then Horse noted that Evie was trying to pull her husband on. Horse heard her say: ‘Come on, Adam. Ignore him. He’s just a drunk.’

Horse gave a loud laugh: ‘“Adam” – did you just call your old man, “Adam”, Evie? This is priceless, this is. “Adam” and “Evie”. As we used to say in Bethnal Green: “Would you Adam and Eve it?”.’ Horse guffawed.

Evie’s husband turned on a sixpence and walked right back, now in Horse’s face. “Is there a problem here, buddy?’

Horse took a step back, as if to admire the clothes of the man in front of him: ‘That is one wery useful jacket, you got there, my son. Where did you get it? The Vaults?’

The husband was somewhat puzzled by Horse’s approach and gave a sharp glance to wife, Evie. Horse looked over at the barmaid: ‘Or maybe somebody found it at work and shouldn’t have kept it, eh, Evie my dear?’

Evie looked at the floor: ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’ She motioned: ‘Come on, Adam.’

‘You see, my friend’. Horse pointed to the jacket, ‘this here jacket is mine and your missus has – no doubt – lifted it by mistake and she’s took it home for you.’ Horse looked the husband up and down: ‘But a little bit snug for ya, don’t you think? A big fella like you. Why don’t you just take it off – give it back to me and we’ll say no more about it? How’s that?’

The large husband smiled and – for a moment – it looked as if he was going to take off the jacket. But instead, he was reaching into his back pocket. And produced a large knife. He pushed Horse against the lamp post: ‘This is the knife that I use for peeling the potatoes. It just got me five year in the jail. Because it wisnae potatoes I peeled – you ken what I‘m saying to you?’

Horse held up both hands and the husband backed off: ‘We have more in common than you think, my friend.’ Horse reached into his coat and produced a nine-inch iron bar (affectionately known as Horse’s ‘Aunty Betty’). ‘We both like potatoes,’ He wielded his Aunty Betty, ‘but I like them good and mashed. How does that work for you? Want a taste?’

TOMORROW: Not the usual unsettled dreams.