A raid for communists from what she suspected. She watched the Specials go from house to house. They threw out furniture and tossed possessions from windows. They pushed their way inside and arrested anyone who resisted. Jane stayed in her room above the pub as it happened. They had no right. They weren't fulfilling any noble duty. They did what any other authority figure does: abuse their power. It reminded her of Arnold. Her brother often did things disguised as nobility. These men sickened her. Campbell lead a group of them into the pub. She rushed over to her desk and began pulling down the pictures and papers. Jane wouldn't let him find them. She knew better than leaving them in the open. She put them all back in their proper folders as she heard the men downstairs. They knocked over chairs and turned over tables. She heard them tossing the rooms on either side of her.

Jane loosened one of the floorboards and tucked the papers inside. She moved away the moment the door burst open. The Special Forces stormed inside in their black capes and uniforms. They began opening her drawers and flipping her mattress. She knew they wouldn't find anything. There wasn't anything there.

Campbell walked into the room as the men continued their search. Smoking his pipe, he didn't seem concerned about the mess. His eyes focused on Jane in her satin robe and nightdress. She felt his eyes looking right through it. She covered herself up in disgust. Even in a situation like this, his eyes still devoured her. The tobacco scent on his coat made her gag as it mixed with his cologne. His eyes rested on hers when he said, "Morning, Ms. Dawes."

"Inspector," she said. "What brings you here so early in the day?"

"As you well know, I am in search of my stolen weapons," he answered. "I thought you might help me."

"Why would I help you? I have no interest in your guns," she told him. "Even if I had bothered, I wouldn't tell you. I like going to the source myself." She did know, but she wouldn't tell him even if he asked. It was amazing what a few conversations and an accounting book can say.

"I believe it'll be in your best interest to help me, Ms. Dawes," he said. "It'd be a shame if they learned you had snow in your boots."

She laughed, "I'm a communist now? Nobody would believe you."

"They would if we came across this in your bedroom," he said. He retrieved a book from his pocket. Communist propaganda often led to suspicion. Jane only giggled.

"That means nothing," she said. "You should've come with something more incriminating. A book you planted won't mean anything."

"I am serious, Ms. Dawes," he warned. "You agree to aid me and this will go back where it came from."

"You don't scare me," she said. "Any charge you put against me won't stick."

"And why is that?"

"My brother works in the British government," she informed him. "He wouldn't let you imprison me under false charges. He works close with your own boss, which puts him above you." Arnold wouldn't like hearing someone put her in jail. He sent her to Germany the last time she'd gone beyond her limits. He'd never allow her behind bars.

"Why should I be afraid of some fancy boy with a government position? He could be a desk clerk for all I know."

"Because Arnold Dawes is the British government."

Campbell believed her. He put the book back in his pocket and glared. "You would be doing your country a great service if you helped retrieved these guns. Anyone who aided in their return would be handsomely rewarded."

"I've done enough for my country," she said. "Now, I'll kindly ask that your men stand down and leave."

He huffed. He issued the command and his men filed out of the room. He looked on Jane, "It's a shame. That cadaver you requested could have had some vital clues for your case."

She stopped him when he tried leaving, "What?"

"I caught Sergeant Moss attempting to hold the proceedings on Ms. Chapman's corpse. I told him if he did that, I'd see to it he lost his position permanently," he said. "Since you refused to help me, they'll go along as planned."

"You can't do that," she said. "There is an actual murderer out there! I think murder is just a smidge above robbery! We all already know who has them, so go bother him about them!"

"Mr. Shelby has plans of his own. As I do with the body, he uses my assignment against me." He stepped closer to her, "I will not a meddling woman and a cut-throat gangster outsmart me. They sent me here on assignment, and I will finish it one way or the other. You can either help me or lose all your evidence."

She looked him over. He had more than anger in his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched and he clutched the brim of his hat. She then said, "It must be embarrassing for a man of your position. You're stuck between a rock and a hard place. You're so accustomed to getting what you want. What did he threaten you with? Sending the shipment far away? Selling it to the IRA? To the communists? There'd be a serious revolution if it fell into their laps." She moved in until there was an inch between them. "And it bothers you that people you look down on have done this to you. We can never be as cunning as you. We're supposed to be beneath you. We should be answering to you; not the other way around."

"So, you're saying 'no' then?"

"I am."

"You'll regret this, Ms. Dawes." He walked out of the room, heading downstairs. She followed him.

"I might not like Mr. Shelby," she said, pursuing him, "But I dislike you even more! If I go to that mortuary today and find that body missing, you'll be the one living in regret."

Standing in the middle of the ransacked tavern, Campbell turned around. He studied her face as he put on his hat. "Your threats are adorable, Ms. Dawes."

She grabbed the nearest bottle and threw it at him as he left the pub. It smashed against the door, falling to the ground in a puddle of gin and glass. Jane growled. She couldn't believe him. He was only doing this because of Tommy. He'd ruin her investigation because Tommy cornered him. She was starting to dislike him more and more every day. She turned to Harry, who stood stunned behind the bar.

"Where's your phone, Harry?" she asked him.

"Office," he pointed. "Why?"

"I have to call Vivian."

Vivan reluctantly agreed to be there by nightfall. Jane pulled on the first dress she found, fixing her hair and make-up. Loosening the floorboard, she grabbed the files and put them back on her desk. She tried not thinking of Kelly Chapman's body burning in an incinerator. The other bodies were already buried and decomposed. There'd be little to no evidence on them. She'd instructed the mortician not to touch or clean the body yet. She wished then they'd called her sooner. If they had, she'd have what she needed.

She came back downstairs where she saw a group of men repairing the pub. Special Forces tore through the place looking for evidence. It didn't surprise her that they never said what for. Jane spotted Harry placing broken chairs on one side of the room. "They didn't damage too much," she said. "It could have been worse."

"Yeah, I suppose," he sighed. He looked about the room, "What was all that fuss about this morning?"

"He wanted my help and I wouldn't give it to him," she said. She rifled through her handbag and handed him money. "For the bottle. If you need help paying for anything else-"

"-Don't worry about it," he said. "Mr. Shelby's already taking care of it."

"Of course, he is," she groaned. "Why won't he just do me a favor and disappear?"

Harry chuckled, "You really don't like him, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Because he knew more about you than you wanted him to." She glanced at him bemused, and he said, "A customer of mine mentioned it. He said you weren't too happy when you left the betting shop."

"Well, I don't think you'd like someone setting his little spies on you," she said. "The whole reason Campbell's threatened my investigation is over these damned guns."

Jane already knew he had them. It only made sense. Campbell knew he did as well, but couldn't move on him. She wondered why. Campbell didn't seem the type to let Tommy hold him down. She didn't have time for that. "I'm on my way to see him," she said.

"What for?"

"I have a deal for him."

Jane headed down the street towards Watery Lane. She saw people helping one another. Men dragged furniture back into houses, and women picked up clothes and jewelry on the ground. This raid wasn't about finding weapons or communists. It was a hit towards Tommy. Many of the pubs around town paid good money for protection. Campbell could make it seem that Tommy allowed it. He'd certainly lose popularity.

"Psst!" The noise came from a nearby alley. "Psst! Jane!"

She turned and saw Freddie in the shadows. "Freddie?"

"Shh! Come!" he said, beckoning her into the alley.

Jane looked around before stepping into the darkness. Damp and muddy, the narrow alley laid between two buildings. She saw a maze of other alleys down the path. Freddie appeared disheveled and half-dressed. "They raided your house?"

"They did," he said. "I left before they could catch me. Listen, I've heard something down the way and I thought you should know."

"What is it?"

"I have a friend who visits the Black Swan Pub-"

"-If this is about the fight, it's not news to me."

"No, it's what happened after the pub," he said. "You were looking for Malacki Byrne, right?"

"I was."

"Well, after the fight and the raids, he isn't gonna be coming out of hiding anytime soon," he said. He searched in his pocket and pulled out a crumbled paper. "A message passed down from him to my friend," he said. He handed her the paper and said, "Everything you need to know is in there."

"I'd rather see him in person, Freddie."

"Like I said, it's all in there." He then checked his exits and said, "I gotta lay low for a while. One of my comrades at the BSA will leave you messages with Harry if I catch something."

A familiar smell wafted off him and into her nose. She recognized the scent from the Shelby house. Jane remembered Ada's hickey and suddenly realized it. She then said, "I'd recommend Camden. I know a man there who has a basement you can use. He's…" she searched for the right word, "He's sympathetic to your cause."

"You helped out a communist?" he smirked.

"And now I'm helping another. Keep your ears open," she said.

"Will do," he nodded. "Take care, Jane."

Freddie left out the way he'd come. Jane stuffed the paper in her handbag and continued on her way. She arrived at #6, which remained untouched. She pounded on the door.

"Jane," Polly answered this time, "Come to see Tommy?"

"You know I have," she answered. "Where is he?"

"Dining room," she said.

She let Jane inside. Jane stormed into their dining room where she found Tommy smoking a cigarette. He sat in contemplation, looking off elsewhere and not acknowledging her. She saw a pail of beer in the middle of the table. By the look of the drained mugs, the other Shelby men ran off already. She glowered at him. She placed her handbag on the table and waited.

"He raided you too?" he said.

"He did," she said. "He also threatened to take away my only piece of evidence because I wouldn't help him."

"Help him with what?" His eyes finally met hers. Indifferent and disinterested, she couldn't stand him.

"You know what," she answered.

"And what do you want me to do about that? It's not my fault you don't want to help him."

"Oh, you don't want me helping him," she said. She rested her palms on the table and leaned into him. "Trust me." Jane stared at him hard. She was sick of this men's war. "I don't care about your ambitions or plans. I don't care about his assignment or his bosses. I care about Copycat. You two are dancing around each other over some stupid shipment while a man is destroying women. It's pathetic. It's selfish."

"What makes you think I have them?"

She laughed, "Who else has the means of holding them? I can't think of anyone else owning a horse stable or several tobacco warfs. You hid your contraband items there don't you? Your cigarettes and whiskey? Who else can come by such things but you?" When he raised an eyebrow she said, "A look through Harry's books was enough for me. How long have you been laundering money through his pub? A month? Two months? It's only a matter of time before you end up owning the place. Also, a man in the pub said you recently killed a friend of yours. Danny Whizbang? Daniel Owens? I saw his name in the book. I didn't know dead men could still get paid for 'confidential services'."

"I told Harry to lock those up."

"I picked the lock," she said. "You looked into me, so I thought I'd return the favor. I wonder if Danny Owens is walking around, what's buried in his grave."

Tommy clenched his jaw, putting out his cigarette. "What do you want?"

"I need Kelly Chapman before Campbell decides to burn her," she said.

"Why do you need it so badly? Any evidence that's on her is gone now. I'm sure another one will pop up any day now."

"I can't wait that long," she told him. "Dr. Lester's incompetent. I have someone who can look into her, but first I need her."

"So, you're saying I have to steal this body and put her somewhere else?" he said. "Where would I put her?"

"You're a clever man, you figure it out," she picked up her bag. "You stole a whole shipment of guns and ammunition. I think you can steal a body. You have until tonight."

Without another word, she left.