The air had a warm quality to it as Thomas strolled briskly down Garrison Lane. He inhaled sharply, the floating soot irritating his nose. As he shoved his hand in his trouser pocket, he kept his eyes on the ground, making sure he didn't trip over anything. Humans were milling around, coming out in droves because of the warmer weather. The nearby neighing of a horse caused him to look up before returning to his walk.
As he continued his journey toward the Garrison, his thoughts drifted from his impertinent sisters' move to marry Freddie Thorne to the upcoming races at Cheltenham. He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking over his discussion with Maze. It wasn't as if he didn't want her to attend to his sister, but he couldn't afford to have his mate arrested by the coppers.
No one would understand the devastation he would cause if Maze were arrested by Campbell and interrogated like a criminal.
Ada's impromptu marriage to Freddie Thorne angered him the most, since she had not asked his permission to marry the Communist. While he would have said no, he knew her unborn child needed a father. Though, any man bar Freddie Thorne would be suitable for his sister. It would only be a matter of time before Thomas would go toe to toe with Freddie. It would do her no good to raise the child on her own, despite who their family was.
He hoped Polly convinced Ada and Freddie to leave the country. It was part of the deal he made with the Inspector and Thomas Shelby was always a man of his word. He knew how stubborn Ada could be, but with the proper incentive, his sister would do what was necessary to ensure survival. Ada would survive, no matter what, regardless of the circumstances.
The upcoming full moon bothered him. He could feel the wolf shimmering under his skin, ready to burst free and run. The full moon was on the first day of the Cheltenham races. He wasn't sure which day Billy Kimber was going to be there, but if he had to guess, it would be the second day for the Grand Annual, the most prestigious of the races during the Festival.
It would also mean the Lee men would be there, stealing from Kimber's bookies to make their money.
Thomas understood his nature would keep him on edge during the races. He could resist the shift the first night; even though it would be painful, but he wouldn't be able to control the wolf's predilection towards violence if he was angered. The day after a shift, he would be tired and sore, but he could push aside those trivial issues and do his job.
He still had not convinced Billy Kimber that he needed the Peaky Blinders for security. Thomas knew his men would do the job and do it right. He would have to seek Kimber and his man, Roberts, and convince them to let the Blinders do it. Billy Kimber was losing control over the police force he bribed daily. Thomas couldn't imagine losing control like that.
While he was sneaking around Cheltenham with Grace, he would have Arthur lead the Blinders to stop the Lees from stealing from Kimber's bookies. Arthur might not possess the leadership skills to be the head of the Blinders, but he could lead them during raids. John would help keep their men in line, he always did.
Thinking of Grace, he wondered why she eagerly wished to work for him. It wasn't often a woman worked for him. It kept him on edge. If he were so inclined, he would ask Polly or Maze what their thoughts were, but he wasn't. This wasn't women's business. Though he could use her in ways that he couldn't with a man. She would be a companionable asset for situations like Cheltenham. He also didn't miss Kimber's wandering eye when Kimber arrived at the Garrison.
Thomas pushed the double doors to the Garrison open and quickly ensconced himself into the private room he used for meetings and took a seat. He wasn't in the mood for a drink this early in the morning, but he could use a cigarette. He briefly stopped by Maze's house, but she wasn't there, leaving him to wonder where she was. Any other morning, he would be at the Betting house, but he couldn't think there.
He needed to call a full Pack meeting since he finally read the Grimoire. There would be almost fifty men, plus Arthur and John. He would need a strategy for the future of the Pack. His grandfather helped the Pack and the Shelby family gain the power they held over Small Heath. It was his turn to lead them further. He wished to expand further into Birmingham and then London. Opening the box of cigarettes, he grabbed one and set it down before reaching for the pack of matches in his inside coat pocket.
Once lit, he placed the cigarette in his mouth. He inhaled sharply before hearing a quiet knock on the small glass door behind him. Twisting his body, he reached around to jerk the window door open to find a bottle of Sadler's waiting on him with a whiskey tumbler. Raising an eyebrow at the insinuation, he grabbed the bottle and glass, setting it down on the table. He didn't want to drink, but it was offered. Reaching into his trousers, he found two coins and tossed them on the counter before closing the door. He took nothing for free.
The bottle sat there while he thought about where he wanted the Pack to go. It wasn't as if they could come out in the open. They'd all be slaughtered. Humans weren't the easiest to accept what was different. His enemies wouldn't mind it, but he didn't wish to die before he was ready. It would take planning.
He casually looked down at his suit and realized he would need another one for Cheltenham. However, the dress requirements were not much different from his usual day-to-day suit. He would learn where Kimber bought his suits from and meet him there before Cheltenham. It would give him the opportunity to talk with the man and once again try to persuade Kimber that he needed the Blinders. He didn't want to be presumptuous, but needed to know before the races.
Tapping the cigarette against the ashtray, he rose from the table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He wouldn't drink it now, but he would later. When he entered the Betting house half an hour later, he walked into his office, bypassing the glare he received from Arthur, and set the bottle of whiskey down on his cluttered desk.
Calling for one of his men, he waited until the man was standing comfortably in front of him. "I need to know where Billy Kimber buys his suits. I need to know before the end of the day."
Thomas glanced out of the office glass, contemplating Arthur's brusque attitude toward him. His older brother's attitude had been volatile since Arthur's attack at the hands of Campbell.
With a sharp nod of his head, his man left the office to do his required task. Several hours later, he returned with news. Billy Kimber had his suits cleaned at Mr. Zhang's. Thomas smiled thinly, dismissing the man. He checked the time on his pocket watch and realized he would have to go tomorrow morning.
The next morning, Thomas wandered through Asian Market to find Mr. Zhang's laundry service. He hoped the man would show up that morning while Thomas was there.
Thomas strolled down the street, inhaling the overpowering scent of spices and the aroma of humans that wandered in and out of shops. He hid a wince as the aroma invaded his sensitive senses, but carried on toward his destination. He saw young women standing around, their eyes on him as he walked. Thomas ignored them, as he wasn't here for the pleasures of the body.
Up ahead, he saw Mr. Zhang's laundry service and smiled, seeing how Kimber and Thomas used the same service. It would make things easier for him in the long run. He walked into the busy building, moving around the workers as his pale blue eyes searched along the wall where the suits were.
"Mr. Shelby!" an Asian man came hurrying toward him.
"Mr. Zhang," Thomas said, stepping up the row of neatly cut expensive suits and fingered a few until he found what he was looking for.
"That suit is sold, sir. It's being collected this morning," Mr. Zhang said, eyeing Thomas.
"I know." Thomas replied, seeing the name Kimber written on the card hanging from a button on the coat.
Thomas fingered the coat for a second longer when he heard Mr. Zhang whisper urgently to his workers to vacate their stations, waving his hands in a shooing motion. Intrigued by Mr. Zhang's actions, Thomas turned around to watch Billy Kimber walk into the area. Impressed with Kimber's timely visit, Thomas stood there for a second to observe the man before him.
Inhaling, Thomas could sense a hint of fear coming from Mr. Zhang. Thomas wouldn't do anything to the man's establishment, but he couldn't say the same to Kimber's men. Unlike Kimber, Thomas frequently travelled alone. They knew well that if harsh words were exchanged, there would be fighting amongst the men. Today wasn't the day to fight Kimber. That would come soon enough.
"Please, gentlemen, no fighting," Mr. Zhang pleaded, standing to the side and away from a potential fight.
"It's all right, I come as a friend," Thomas assured the older Asian man. He looked at Kimber and tried to show that he was, in fact, friendly. There wasn't any use in giving away the plot too early. With the assurance from Thomas, Mr. Zhang quickly left the area. He tried not to run, but his feet couldn't get him out of there fast enough.
"I see you're collecting your suit for Cheltenham. It's quite nice," Thomas said with a friendly overtone.
Thomas walked across the room, setting a large table full of fabric between him and Kimber. Keeping his hands where Kimber could see them, Thomas leaned gently against a chair.
"How the bloody hell do you know that's my suit?" Kimber snapped, placing his hat against his chest. He moved around the room, closer to his suit. He didn't trust the pikey since he learned of the fixed races.
"I know a lot of things, Mr. Kimber." Thomas said, eyeing the man. "I know the Lees will be at Cheltenham and they will go after your bookies."
"Yea, well," Kimber spat angrily, annoyed that Thomas was there. "They're going to lose a lot of money on fast women and slow nags."
The wolf growled in his head at the way Kimber was speaking. "No," he began, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "They will go after your bookies, running chalk and rafflers."
Kimber scoffed, turning to look at his men standing close by in case Thomas shot their boss, "Do you really think I can't handle the Lees?"
"Not saying that. Just a friendly warning," Thomas said, hoping to convey that Kimber needed him and his men for the job. Satisfied with the concerned impression he was getting from Kimber, Thomas turned to leave the laundry service shop. "I'll see you at Cheltenham."
"If you're coming to the races, bring that pretty barmaid of yours!" Kimber shouted as Thomas walked away from him.
"Already done!" Thomas called back as he walked out of the shop.
Stepping out of the laundry service shop, Thomas wandered idly along the streets. He could have driven the family car, but walking gave him the opportunity to think. He shook his head at Kimber's lack of finesse at listening to another person's advice. It amazed him how Kimber lasted as long as he did. Thomas realized that the brains behind the operation were the accountant, Roberts.
All Kimber was a loud mouth that one day would be shot for his idiocy. A smile ghosted Thomas' face as he thought about that day. He hoped he would be the one to put a bullet in Kimber's thick skull.
As he wandered, he stopped to inspect a shelf full of exotic fruit. Fruit was plentiful if you grew it and prices were fairly cheap, but this was something different. Curious, he picked a small yellow fruit and turned it over to check it. He sat it down a second later and a bright pink spikey looking fruit caught his eye.
"That's dragon fruit," a female voice said to his right. He turned to see Maze standing there, a woven basket hanging onto her right arm. She pointed to the fruit he previously picked up. "That's mango."
Thomas set the spikey fruit down and turned to look at her. "How do you know this?" he asked, amused.
She smiled coyly at him. "It's not the first time I've shopped here. Besides, most of these fruits are common in the future." She picked up three of the mangos to inspect them before reaching into her bag for money.
"Have I eaten these?" Thomas asked, watching her scan the fruit stand.
"Possibly," she shrugged.
He looked her over, then turned to see if Kimber was still around. When he didn't see Kimber, Thomas turned back to Maze, who watched him. "What are you doing here?" he asked her quietly.
"Shopping."
He wanted to huff at her short answers. There were times she talked his ear off and then there were times, like now, that her answers irritated him. He knew she hadn't been to see Ada since he forbade Maze from seeing his sister. Behind her, trailing like a silent stalker, was Jimmy Hoots. Maze argued she didn't need a minder when traveling around Birmingham, but Thomas refused to listen to her excuses.
"I've behaved," she whispered, catching on that he found Jimmy behind her. She turned her head to see Jimmy lean against a nearby wall, watching her, but relaxed seeing his boss. Jimmy hadn't let her leave his sight since the day she evaded him to see Ada.
"I've noticed."
She checked the time on her wristwatch and sighed. "I have to leave. My shift starts in a couple of hours."
Thomas nodded, knowing that he would be at her house in the morning for breakfast. It had been two days since he saw her, longer since he touched her soft skin. As they walked away from the market, he felt the telltale sign of their separation as his skin itched. There was still too much he needed to tell her, and every time he figured he had time, she didn't.
Or something came up preventing them from speaking privately.
He walked her to her car and declined the offer to drive him back to the Garrison. Thomas shook his head as he watched her drive away.
Wandering back toward town, Thomas kept to himself as he walked. The city bloomed around him as Spring inched forward, ushering the warmer climate to Birmingham. The days would be warmer, at least.
As he came closer to his destination, he heard whistles blowing as coppers went around to break up the gathering of Communists and workers who wanted to strike. Rushing past him, a throng of men shouting with cheer rushed past him. Thomas slowed his step and turned his head and watched as several men disappeared around the corner and others stopped to talk to their fellow countrymen.
Ahead, he heard his name being called.
"Oi! Tommy!" John's voice rang clearly over the cacophony.
Thomas stopped and waited patiently for his younger brother. He could still hear the other men calling and yelling. A horse stood close by, the animal nickered quietly to its owner.
"What the hell happened?" Thomas asked his younger brother.
"The coppers raided a factory a few minutes ago," John replied. "That's why you see them scattering. It sounds like Freddie Thorne is back."
"He is back," Thomas confessed to his brother. "He's with Ada."
John hid his shock from his older brother. He knew Ada fancied Freddie Thorne, and then married the fucking Communist when Thorne came back to Birmingham. He still couldn't believe his sister was ignorant enough to associate herself with Communists.
"Have you heard anything about finding her?" Thomas asked his brother.
"Not a word," John replied, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "She's with Commies, Tommy."
"I just want to know where she is," Thomas replied, giving his brother a look.
It was true that Thomas could ask Maze where Ada was hiding, but he knew she wouldn't give up the location unless Ada was in danger. Jimmy had caught Maze coming out of a building but couldn't tell him which room Ada was staying in. It wouldn't be smart to knock on every fucking door to find her.
"They have ratholes all over the fucking city," John said, looking at Thomas.
Thomas knew it was going to take time to find Ada. If Polly had not convinced her yet to leave, then Thomas was going to have to do the job. He didn't want to, but if she didn't leave before the month was out, then he would step in. He thought she was his only problem until John stopped him.
"You need to talk to Arthur as well," John said, halting.
Thomas turned to look at John with slight confusion on his face. "What the bloody hell is wrong with Arthur?"
"He's got the Flander's Blues again." John said softly, dipping his head a little.
Thomas pushed out a sharp hiss of air and shook his head angrily. Not that he didn't care for his brother, he did, but this had to stop. Everyone of them came back from the war damaged in some fashion. Arthur slipped into drinking excessively and whoring himself with numerous women to fight off the effects of the war. John turned to alcohol and Thomas…. Thomas still had the hidden box of opium under his bed.
Thomas was lucky Arthur didn't start fights in the streets with his anger issues. He twisted away from John and stormed toward the church, where he figured Arthur might be. It was the one place the Shelby's could have peace. It was where he discussed the guns with Polly earlier in the year.
A quarter of an hour later, Thomas stopped in front of the church his family used. After flicking his cigarette onto the ground, he watched it smoke until it stopped. He didn't want to go inside and listen to his older brother's woes of his mind. He wasn't sure what Arthur would ask of him or want to know.
He pushed the double doors open and stepped inside the quiet building of worship. Removing his cap, he stuffed it in his coat pocket and ran his hands over his hair for a second before walking further into the building. The parish priest hardly gave him a look as Thomas walked down the aisle.
His eyes saw Arthur sitting alone in a pew, his body hunched over as if he were praying. Thomas knew his brother hadn't prayed since they left for France four years ago. Beside him, sitting on a pew, was a bottle of whiskey. Thomas picked it up and looked at it before setting it back down. He was sure one couldn't drink in a church, but said nothing to his older brother.
Thomas took a seat beside Arthur, saying nothing as he stared at the lit candles in front of them. It cast a warm glow, but shrouded them in semi-darkness. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, each not knowing how to start the conversation that festered in the back of Arthur's mind.
"People keep asking me questions I don't have the answers to," Arthur began, his voice low as he refused to look at his brother and Alpha.
Thomas said nothing but let his brother speak. Sometimes it was for the best when someone needed to talk and he had to listen.
"Is it true that our little sister is married?" Arthur asked his first question.
"Where is she living?" he asked his next question.
Thomas reasoned he would be here for a moment and Arthur's questions would need answers. It was true that Thomas kept too many things to his chest that he was unwilling to tell his family. It wasn't for their safety, but because he didn't want to deal with their questions and outrage.
Arthur chuckled humorlessly, readying for the next question. "Who killed the Paddy from the Black Swan?"
This question stopped Thomas for a second. No one came to him telling him about this. He spoke with two Irishmen a few days prior and now one was dead? Someone must have seen them walk out of the Garrison and concluded they spoke with a Shelby because the two Irishmen had their own pub they could drink at.
The next question made Thomas's throat tighten.
"Did the Peaky Blinders steal the guns from the BSA?" Arthur asked, his voice slowly tinting with anger the more questions he asked his younger brother.
Arthur started to laugh in a way that would describe someone going mad in his mind. Thomas knew now that he had to answer Arthur's questions. He could answer all the questions but one. He still didn't know where Ada was. Thomas looked up and gazed at the stained glass window at the far end of the church and listened as Arthur laughed.
"Do you know what I tell them?" Arthur demanded of his brother. When Thomas didn't answer, Arthur became enraged. His eyes flashed amber as he stood up. "I tell them I DON'T BLOODY KNOW!" He leaned over his brother, anger coursing through him, and he thought about walloping his brother on the head.
Before Thomas could react, Arthur reached into his jacket and pulled his Webley out and aimed it at his brother's head. Thomas glanced up, seeing the gun wobbly in his Arthur's hand. It didn't shock Thomas that Arthur would let his anger take over, and pointing a gun at him. The church was silent as Arthur contemplated shooting Thomas.
Calmly, Thomas considered at Arthur's unhinged attitude. He knew his brother was angry. Arthur's go to was violence when things became turbulent. "Sit down, Arthur."
When Arthur refused to lower the gun and sit back down, Thomas glared at him, his own eyes flashing in warning. "Sit… down….,"
Arthur stood there, his chest heaving as if short of air. Thomas let out a sigh of relief when Arthur shoved his gun back in its holster. It took several minutes before Arthur wrestled the wolf down in submission. Throwing himself in the pew, he leaned his head back and ran a shaky hand over his face and closed his eyes. He needed a fucking drink, but he wanted to be clear-headed to hear Thomas's excuses.
Thomas turned his head to his older brother and wondered where things went wrong between them. Before the war, they could talk about anything, but since coming back, their relationship became fractured. He wasn't sure if it was him or the both of them.
"Arthur," he began quietly, unlike his older brother, "after your attack, I thought you needed a break."
Arthur scoffed and turned his head away from Thomas.
"WHAT BLOODY GUNS, TOMMY?!" Arthur shouted, rising to his feet again.
Thomas looked up at his brother and wondered if this was the most important question Arthur needed to know the answer to. Arthur's eyes flashed amber, the wolf taking over Arthur's common sense. Leaning forward, Thomas placed a soothing hand on his brother's shoulder and tried to reason with him.
"I was going to tell you, Arthur," Thomas spoke quietly, regardless if they were in a church. The shouting alone should have brought someone to investigate.
Arthur scoffed angrily and jerked away from his brother. He couldn't believe Thomas! Thomas should have told him everything from the very beginning, not now. "Tell me?" Arthur snapped, turning away from Thomas.
"Listen to me!" Thomas hissed, pulling Arthur back to him. His brother wanted answers and Thomas was going to give them whether Arthur wanted to hear it. Thomas brought his brother close, their voices barely above a whisper. "We had some luck."
Thomas's face broke out in a smile. "We had some very good luck." his smile never wavered as he continued. "It was like it fell out of the sky and landed in our laps. But you have to remember this: it's us who have the guns now, all right?"
Arthur looked at his younger brother incredulously before turning away from him and thinking about what Tommy had said. The Shelbys had the machine guns that were stolen from the BSA factory. The Shelbys held all the cards in their hands now, and Thomas was going to make sure that nothing would happen to them.
"Come on," Thomas instructed, rising from the pew and offering his hand to his brother. "I have a surprise for you."
Arthur looked up at him warily, but intrigued. The information that Tommy divulged to him was surprising enough. He didn't know if he could handle it anymore. What he didn't know was that Thomas had an ulterior motive for this surprise. Nodding his head, he watched Thomas walk away as he struggled to stand up from the pew.
At full height, Arthur grabbed his hat and the bottle of whiskey before stumbling out of the quiet church. Nothing was said as the two brothers walked away from the entrance of the church and down the street until they reached Garrison Lane. Arthur didn't ask where they were going, he already knew they were going to the Garrison.
There was nothing surprising about the Garrison that he remembered from his trip there earlier this morning. People stepped aside as they walked, hoping to avoid any confrontation with two of the Shelby brothers. Leading in front, Thomas pushed the doors open to the pub and found it nearly empty. This confused the older Shelby.
"What surprise?" he asked, looking around the dimly lit pub before turning his attention to his younger brother. "Where is she?" he asked, earning a chuckle from his brother.
Thomas removed his hat and shuffled his feet. "What is it you've always wanted, Arthur? Something you've said you wanted since France?"
Arthur turned and looked at his brother with a slight confusion until the gears turned in his rattled brain. A second passed before he realized Thomas had bought the Garrison and was giving it to him.
"You've gone soft, Tommy," Arthur said, tapping his brother's chest lightly with the whiskey bottle before scanning the room. "I can't believe you did this."
"When did you buy it?"
"I haven't, but we're making a lot of money these days and we need a legitimate business to pass money from the shop."
"I—I wouldn't know what to do or how to run this," Arthur voiced his concerns to Tommy.
Thomas leaned against the bar and looked at his brother pointedly. "You spend half your life in pubs. All you have to do is pour the drinks, not drink them yourself."
Arthur couldn't speak. He was too much in of a stupor that Thomas will give him this kind of responsibility. There wasn't a way for Arthur to lead the Pack nor be head of the Blinders, but this... this was his opportunity to shine and let Thomas know he could handle things on his fucking own. He hated to say it, but the gesture moved him.
Thomas gave his brother a wide grin. It wasn't every day that he would do something nice for someone else…. even family. But to see Arthur's quick acceptance and joy brought a smile to his face. Unfortunately, he hadn't bought it yet, but that didn't mean a damn thing to him. Harry would pay up and they would be the owners of the Garrison before the day was over.
"Ah, gentlemen, didn't hear you come in," Harry said, coming out of the back room. He sat a large crate on the floor behind the bar.
Thomas turned around and stared at Harry for a second as Arthur set the bottle of whiskey down and leaned his arms on the bar top. Harry looked at the two of them and gulped, realizing something was going on and they were there for him.
"Harry, we need to have a talk," Thomas began, watching the older man with interest.
"Ab-about what, Mr. Shelby?" Harry asked, pushing aside a white cleaning towel and reaching for a glass to give to Arthur, who took it and filled it with his bottle of whiskey.
"I want to buy the pub."
Harry had two choices. He could tell the Shelbys the pub wasn't for sale and face their wrath or he could be smart and sell the pub without a fight. The Garrison was all he knew, and he didn't want to lose that security. Maybe he would offer the pub to them at a reasonable price as long as he stayed on payroll. Though, he would work for the Shelbys and not for himself any longer.
"Did you hear him?" Arthur spat, glowering at the landlord. "He wants to buy the fucking pub."
"How much would you be willing to pay?" Harry asked, placing his hands on the bar top.
Thomas mulled over the figures in his head. However, he didn't know how much Harry made a year, but figured he would offer the man at least six months' worth of income for the pub. Thomas glanced at Arthur, who shrugged, letting Thomas take the lead in this business dealing.
Thomas placed a hand on the bar top, thinking still, but came with a decent number. "Six thousand pounds."
Harry's eyes widened. That was half a year's wages for him once everything was paid out for the year. "Would I be able to keep my position?"
"You would. In fact," Thomas paused, glancing at Arthur before looking at Harry, "you would help Arthur manage the pub."
"Doing what I do now, except working for you?" Harry surmised, tossing the towel in a metal bucket at his feet.
"Exactly."
"I don't know, Mr. Shelby," Harry said hesitantly.
Thomas raised an eyebrow at him while Arthur glared at him. Harry gulped again, tapping his fingers on the smooth bar top. The selfish half of him wanted to ask for more, but refrained. He sighed, realizing that he wouldn't get anymore from them and nodded his head in defeat.
"Six thousand it is," Harry said reluctantly.
Thomas nodded, giving Harry a rare smile. "I'll have the money sent to you before the end of the day."
Arthur slapped the bar top loudly before wandering off to find a booth to sit and drink to his new ownership of the Garrison.
Thomas gave Harry a nod before turning around and leaving the pub. Acquiring the pub was the start of his takeover. The Shelbys were making a lot of money these days, but Thomas wanted more and buying the pub was the beginning.
