Novels2Search
Paragons of the Collective
Ch. 8 Tools of the Trade

Ch. 8 Tools of the Trade

           Jonny was getting sick of the cold and the annoying overtures from street vendors and prostitutes. As if summoned by thought, a small form detached itself from the crowded marketplace. The kid had brown hair and steely gray eyes that reminded Jonny of his own. Jonny had to admit to himself that he was impressed with the way the child moved. Usually, at his age, they were all knees and elbows. It was hard to look lithe and impressive when your body hadn't caught up to the size of your feet.

The boy confidently strode up to Jonny and stuck out his hand. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Ghost."

              Jonny scowled and rose from the wall that he had been leaning on to wait. He uncrossed his arms and grabbed the boy by one of his ears. Twisting it, he manipulated the boy until he was on the tips of his toes and staring into Jonny's suddenly critical gaze. A couple of people looked over at the scene, but one look at Jonny's face convinced them that they had more important things to do elsewhere.

Jonny hissed. "Smiley tell you that you could use that name in public, lad?"

            Fear turned the boy's face white, and he stuttered a response while simultaneously trying to relieve the pressure on his ear with his hands.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

             Satisfied, Jonny let the boy go and studied him more carefully. The boy rubbed his ear with a grubby hand but didn't conceal the anger at being reprimanded in public from his gaze. That was good, Jonny thought. Meekness didn't keep you alive.

"So what's your name lad?"

The boy's face reddened for reasons unknown to Jonny and with false bravado, replied.

"Mouse. They call me Mouse."

Jonny involuntarily chuckled and the gravity of the moment disappeared. The boy immediately got defensive.

            "They call me Mouse because I can break into anywhere and steal anything. I'm the best thief on these streets and one day I'll be even better than the Ghost."

            Despite his defensiveness, Mouse lowered his voice to barely a whisper at the very end. Jonny nodded. So the lad could learn a lesson. Also good. Jonny resisted the urge to ruffle the boy's hair. Mouse could've been the spitting image of himself when he was that age.

He smiled. "Alright then Mouse, let's head to the Queen's Noose and talk about our plan."

             Jonny made his way towards the Queen’s Noose on the docks. The Queen’s Noose doubled as the neighborhoods only shankhouse and relatively decent pub. Shankhouses were much like the thieves guilds of antiquity. Criminals would go there to share expertise and methods without fear of intervention by the Watch. Unfortunately, when one imagines a thieves’ guild, they imagine opulent silks and exotic drugs at the behest of dangerous, hooded and cloaked men. Jonny chuckled at the incongruity between fiction and reality as they drew close to the Queen’s Noose.

             Like most pubs, the Queen’s noose was on the corner of a commercial block abutting the main road to the actual docks along the waterfront. It was the nicest pub around because it was where Smiley held court. Even though it was the nicest pub in the neighborhood it still wasn’t luxurious by any means. Here, at least the buildings were made from red brick caked with grime rather than the wooden death traps further into Jacob’s Island. There were large windows equidistant along the perimeter of the building. Jonny wasn’t sure why they bothered. Smiley ensured the windows stayed so dirty that they were opaque. Smiley didn’t believe in letting the opposition have a free look inside his operations. Smiley never specified who the opposition was. For Smiley, it was him against the world. In most respects, he wasn’t wrong.

            As Jonny approached the door to the building, traces of lettering could be seen on its surface. Ignoring them, Jonny opened the door and gestured for Mouse to enter. The cold wind blew into the interior of the pub and a couple of the braver patrons were about to yell in protest until they saw who was opening the door. Jonny the Ghost was well known in this area and so the men quickly returned to their drinks with quiet mutters.

             Jonny surveyed the pub. Flickering candlelight and roaring fires gave off the impression of a home away from home. The bar was made of dark wood with brass accents. It was polished to such a shine that the candlelight reflected from its surface. The brass didn’t have a touch of tarnish and this was especially impressive when considering the humidity caused by the proximity of the Thames. While the outside of the building was filthy, the inside was impeccable. A large mirror shone from behind the bar and made the space feel much bigger than it actually was. Jonny was particularly proud of the mirror. The frame of the mirror was ornately carved with chasing dragons in real gold on the side. It had been among the possessions of a noble in Wales until Smiley had decided that he wanted it. Consequently, he ordered Jonny to retrieve the item for him. It had been a challenging and exciting burglary. Since then, the mirror had sat in the shankhouse as a reminder of the lengths Smiley would go to so that he could get what he wanted. Its second function was as a symbol of power. None of the Watch dared to come into the Queen's Noose to retrieve it. 

           Many would come to the Queen’s Noose merely to escape the chill and talk about their most recent illegal pursuit. However, if they didn’t have the coin to pay for a few drinks or a meal they were sent on their way by the two bruisers on staff. Smiley wouldn’t allow squatters in his court and violators of his written rules never made the mistake twice.

             Mouse ran along the inside of the room and took a seat at one of the faded leather booths in the corner. Jonny followed dutifully and as he sat down, the owner and bartender Grimes had already appeared by his elbow. Grimes was a fat man. His bald head, red paunchy face, and soiled apron contributed to the deep trust that the criminal community placed in him. Everyone knew that you couldn’t trust a skinny bartender. His good cheer and charming personality kept him in Smiley’s good graces. In this neighborhood, Grimes was untouchable but he didn’t use that fact to his advantage which made him popular even with the meanest criminals.

“Ghost! Gorblimy man, it’s been a while since you’ve graced my humble abode.”

Jonny genuinely laughed, and his whole face lit up. Grimes had that kind of effect on his patrons.

            “Grimes, I haven’t gone by that moniker in a long time. You know that Smiley doesn’t have me terrorizing the town anymore. Now, I just embarrass anyone daft enough to step into the ring.”

            Grimes rubbed his fat chin in thought. “Aye, that you do, Jonny.” He gave Jonny a meaningful glance. “I heard that you might be doing a job soon despite your boxing career.”

            Jonny gave him a sly grin. “You know I can’t talk about that sort of thing with you Grimes. It would give you indigestion.” Jonny gave a pointed glance towards Grimes’ protruding belly.

Grimes chuckled good-naturedly. “That it would, lad. That it would. What do you want to drink?”

Jonny nodded towards Mouse. “Beer for the boy and whiskey for myself.”

Grimes nodded and left to grab the drinks. Jonny waited for Grimes to leave and then looked at the kid.

“Alright, lad. What are we doing?”

          Mouse shuffled in his seat as if he were sitting on something sharp. After a moment he seemed to settle and then lowered his voice.

“We’re going to assassinate the Lord of Seven Dials.”

           Jonny choked, and before he could manage a reply, Grimes returned with their drinks. Jonny waved off his concerned look before looking back at Mouse in surprise. Seeing the seriousness of their conversation, Grimes took off without a word. Grimes was professional that way.

           “You’re selling me a dog, lad.” Jonny managed. “Smiley doesn’t use me for the bloody work.” Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Mouse took his time replying by sipping from his beer first.

           Wiping the foam from his mouth, he continued. “Not usually Ghost, but this time it’s different. The murder is secondary. It would be nice but what Smiley really wants is the glass pyramid hanging from the Lord’s neck.”

           “What’s so special about a glass pyramid that it’s worth a killing? Killing a leader like the Lord will spin the underworld into chaos. That kind of bad blood will spill over into Jacob’s Island and that the exact sort of thing that Smiley usually avoids like the plague.”

          Mouse shrugged. “Who knows why Smiley does the things he does. Supposedly the pyramid glows with an inner light, and it’s supposed to convey some arcane power to the one who wields it.” Mouse seemed to consider that for a second. “I don’t think that Smiley believes in all that, but it’s a powerful symbol.” Mouse finished by shrugging. “Who knows?”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

          Jonny pondered that for a moment. For some reason, he felt like he had seen a pyramid of that description before. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember where. Every time he seemed to be close to remembering where the memory would slip away like fog in the breeze. After a few tries, Jonny abandoned the attempt.

“Alright Mouse, if that’s all true then why did Smiley send you to me? He could’ve told me all of this himself.”

         At this, Mouse gave a feral grin. “Well Ghost, I’m the only one that knows how to get you inside the building the Lord lives in without being detected.”

         “Oh, you discovered what a door is, then? Mouse, I’m proud of you. You truly are the next me!” Jonny chuckled at the range of emotion playing about Mouse’s face.

          He sputtered. “No, Ghost. That’s not it. The Lord keeps a trapdoor hidden among the shingles of his roof. It leads into an attic that exits right outside the door to the Lord’s bedroom.” Jonny studied the boy suspiciously.

“…and how do you know all that, lad?”

At this, the boy’s face began to redden. He started to mutter an answer. Sensing a perfect opportunity, Jonny pounced.

“What was that lad? Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“I said…the Lord’s servant has a daughter named Elizabeth, and she may have snuck me into the place once or twice.”

          Jonny laughed uproariously. The irony was too much for Jonny to handle. One of the most bloodthirsty and ruthless crime lords in London was about to be undone by a couple of horny kids. Thinking that Jonny was laughing at him, Mouse got defensive.

          “Well, I didn’t know it was the Lord’s house at the time, Jonny! As soon as she told me that, I went and let Smiley know. I’m a loyal member of the Family!”

Jonny wiped a tear from his eye. “That you are, lad. I’m not questioning your loyalty.”

Jonny paused to take a sip of his whiskey. It was good. Smokey and delivered neat. Just the way he liked it.

“So Mouse, why do I need you to be the crow? Presumably, I could find the hatch myself,”

           Mouse shrugged. “I’m not sure. You don’t need me exactly. I already convinced Elizabeth to unlock the hatch from the inside tomorrow night. I guess that Smiley wants to hold me accountable if this all turns out to be a dangle.”

           Jonny mused on Mouse’s last statement. Dangles were a way of luring an adversary’s best operatives into your clutches. It started by giving your opposition a target they can’t resist and then at the last moment jerking the bait away as the target falls into the trap. Now that Mouse brought it up, it looked remarkably like a dangle. That begged the question. What the hell was Smiley playing at? He let those thoughts turn around in his mind.

“Ok Mouse. So why do we have to kill the Lord to steal the pyramid?”

           Mouse lowered his voice further. “Well, Elizabeth told me that the Lord keeps the pyramid on a cord around his neck. The only way to get it is to get the Lord, and I guess Smiley isn’t too concerned about that part of the plan.”

          “Alright, Mouse. I’m going to head back to Patsy’s so that I can grab my tools. I’ll meet you over in St. Giles this evening so that we can go over the plan.” Fishing out some cash, Jonny left the payment and a tip on the table. He downed the rest of his whiskey and then walked out of the Queen’s Noose. For some reason, Jonny felt a discomfort at the thought of killing someone. He found the discomfort odd because while killing is something that no one but the truly mad enjoyed, it was still a necessary part of life in London. Jonny wasn’t sure where these pangs of conscience were coming from. Maybe in a past life, Jonny had never killed before. Jonny internally chuckled. Yeah right, there would be blood in any life that Jonny would be a part of.

           Jonny made it back to Patsy’s without incident and made his way inside. The warmth and comfort of the place had Jonny sighing in relief. The place was empty and Jonny assumed the men were out boozing and whoring as they were wont to do when boredom took them. He stomped up the crooked wooden stairs that took him to the second and then on to the third floor. The second floor was merely a place where more people could watch the regular boxing matches. The exhibition arena opened up to the second floor with theater style seating arrangements on the top. These seats were a bit more expensive as the benches on the ground floor were often put away to accommodate standing room only.

            On the third floor, Jonny had a small room that Patsy had given to him. It wasn’t nice by any means but it was Jonny’s place, and he felt safe there. Jonny fished a heavy key from his coat pocket, unlocked his door, and entered quietly. The inside had enough room for a small closet, a bed, and a large trunk. Jonny methodically went through the room and checked all of the traps he had left for anyone foolish enough to go through his things. They were easily disarmed and then Jonny undressed down to his skivvies and placed all of his things in the closet.

            He turned his attention to the trunk at the foot of his bed. It was a large wooden trunk that he had bought some time ago from Turkish merchants. It was a puzzle box made from a dense and heavy wood. Only by opening certain portions of the box in a particular order would the trunk open to reveal its contents. Jonny preferred this method of keeping his gear safe because anyone in this neighborhood knew how to pop open a traditional lock. With this chest, it was damn near impossible to open without knowing the trick.

          After unlocking the chest, he pulled out the tools of his trade. Jonny pulled out a series of wrapped bundles ensconced within lists. The straps of cloth made it easier for the tools to be discarded in the event of a chase. Unrolling the bundles, he went through his tools and began to check the condition of all his tools.

           The first item Jonny looked at was his jemmy, a small crowbar he used to open windows or doors. It could also be wedged into doors to crack the cheap fitting that secured them to the frame. The condition was still good. No rust or other corrosions was found and Jonny had recently oiled it to protect it from the elements. The edge of the jemmy, was still sharp which made it easier to be wedged into tighter places. In a pinch, it could also be used as an impromptu weapon.

          Next, came the cutter. The tool was shaped like the letter “D” and consisted of a revolving handle and pronged blade attached to a fixed handle at the top. It was used to cut holes into wood. It could be used to either weaken the attachment points of timbers, or drill a whole deep and large enough to disengage a locked door. To use it, one had to grasp the fixed handle at the top with one hand and use the other hand to spin handle attached to the pronged blade. The revolving blade would shred through the cheap and rotten timber that were common to the poorest areas.

           The final item in the first list was his jack. The jack used a crank and locking mechanism to increase the pressure between an iron bar and a surface to pry the bars away from their mounting points. It wasn’t a very quiet tool, but it was immensely useful if the target had placed iron bars over something important.

           After verifying the condition of the items in the first list, he rolled them back up and placed them into a mottled green, brown, and gray rucksack. Next, he opened the second list.

           This list contained the items he would carry on his person. He had a series of knives. One was for glass cutting, it would go on his hip, and two more were meant for stabbing. Those would also go on his hip on the opposite side of the glass cutters. The last set of knives were weighted for throwing and went into a bandolier that he would put over one his right thigh. Jonny was right handed himself, and so it was an easy motion to draw a knife and throw it in one motion.

          Generally, people who wanted to stay alive didn’t throw weapons at their opponents. The average thief wouldn’t bother because they spent most of their time practicing how to get into places rather than how to defend themselves. There were bruisers for that sort of work. Jonny knew better. Ever since a young age, he had to learn how to defend himself. When your opponent is larger and faster than you, you have to know how to attack from a distance. Throwing knives was a valuable skill back then, and it was one that Jonny hadn’t allowed to degrade over time.

          Besides the knives, there was rope for ladders and a myriad of other uses, his betties or set of lock picks, and the last two items of note: his life-preserver and dark-lantern.

           A life preservers is a small steel ball attached to a length of rope that was secured around Jonny’s wrist. The weapon left his hands free until it was time to use it. Once he needed to defend himself, a quick twitching motion would unravel the ball and place it into his hand. Then, Jonny could either use the ball as a crude club to silently knock someone out, or it could be swung in a circle before launching it at someone’s head, skull, or even limbs. The metal ball would crack even a thigh bone with the force behind the motion. Hitting a skull or face often led to immediate death.

         The dark-lantern was a standard tool for any thief. It was a mechanical wonder that allowed the user to slide a shutter over the light so that it could be concealed from passerby while keeping the flame from extinguishing.

          Satisfied, that all of his equipment was in order, it was time for Jonny to move on to his pride and joy: his clothing. His clothing was the primary reason that he was known as the Ghost. Unwrapping the last list uncovered a mottled grey-green cloak. Thieves traditionally liked to think that black was the best color for nighttime excursions. They’re dead wrong. They fail to realize that black is generally not a natural color in nature. Black at night tends to look wrong and provide a visible silhouette to anyone watching. Gray on the other hand, was a perfect color for not wanting to be seen. Jonny had developed this principle of camouflage into his clothing.

          Camouflage itself had been used since the time of the Greeks, and for the life of him, Jonny could not understand why this basic principle was never adopted by the criminal underworld in London. Jonny supposed that everyone wanted to be well-known and blatant in their illegal activities to discourage reprisals from wronged parties. Jonny had no desire to be well-known.

          As such, his clothing was dark gray work shirt with the sleeves rolled down. Over this, Jonny wore dark leather gloves that laced up the forearm. The gloves were for protection for the inevitable climbing and rooftop gymnastics that would be required of him. He wore dark woolen breeches and knee-length leather boots for the same reasons as the gloves. The boots themselves did not have the high sole that was fashionable, instead they were soft soled to allow for quiet steps. Both the gloves and the boots were well-oiled in order to ensure maximum flexibility and range of movement. Jonny did not bother with a coat, despite the chill form outside. The stitching of the sleeves would merely get in his way. Instead he finished it with the deep hooded cloak that the rest of the clothing was bundled in.

          Once everything was on and settled the way Jonny was used to, Jonny decided to take a short nap and eat some provisions while he waited for the sun to go down.