Chapter 20) Meeting the Red Dragon
.-.-.
Tommy made their arrival at their new address a spectacle. He'd summoned half a dozen of his men to escort the four women from Watery Lane to Arsenal Street. Their little parade took halt at the second floor of the three storey high apartment complex and Tommy pulled they keys from his pocket and opened the door, stepping aside to give the new residence a clear path.
Relieved that the group of ill-mannered men remained outside, Maria walked after her sisters and mum pulling along one of their suitcases.
The first very noticeable thing about her new home was the stench; the smell of catpiss, cigarette smoke, and utter filth filled up her nostrils. The hallway was narrow and the wooden board flooring needed a desperate scrubbing and creaked underneath her feet.
The biggest bedroom was quickly occupied by her sisters, who'd immediately started bickering about who was going to get the top bunk bed. Pulling each others hair and cat clawing until May eventually roared victory and kicked her older sister off the top bed.
Maria rolled her eyes at her sisters and placed her luggage in the second, smaller bedroom. The cramped up space was narrow and windowless, deprived from fresh air and sunlight. But it beat the mice infested attic at her uncle's by far.
I'll sleep on the sofa, her mother signed to her, the fear of being in the dark always lingered.
Maria was fine with that, secretly relieved to finally have a small bit of privacy. Besides the narrow single bed, there wasn't any furniture and she quickly went on a scavenger hunt to find something she could use to store her clothes and belongings.
While scanning for anything useful, she inspected the kitchen, the stove was rusting and needed a good clean, the cupboard was missing a shelf and some mice feces littered the counter. The sink was the worst, lumps of grease and spoiled food floated in the three inch dirty water. The kitchen needed a drastic cleansing before she'd be making tea.
Besides the sofa and a small table with four non-matching chairs there wasn't much furniture. The only showpiece was an antique cuckoo-clock hung up high above a dark and dusty dessoir.
Maria's mum opened the two windows widely, hands itching to start turning the apartment upside down.
"We have a bath, a bath!" April announced thrilled, holding the door open to show her family her newly found treasure.
Again, the porcelain from both the bath and the toilet needed a good scrubbing but the plumbing worked and when Maria turned the knobs a gush of brown water poured out but turned clear and warm after a few minutes.
It'll do? Tommy signed, leaning against the doorway with a trademark cigarette pressed between his lips. Maria rose up from the bath and ran her hand over the stained porcelain.
"It's more than I expected," she muttered still baffled from the outrageous favour. Of course she was fully aware that she'd be paying a high price for his protection and a roof over their heads, but the place was far better then she'd expected and a whole lot better than a bed in the poorhouse.
Good, Tommy pulled out his wallet and took out a few bills, this is a deposit, see it as asurrance on both parties; you can see my good nature and I'll know you won't disappear, because you owe me. He placed the money down on the edge of the bath, buy some food, something to clean this place up and buy yourself something decent to wear. Nothing colorful, no cleavage. Tommy paused and looked her over then continued. I'll send Ada over, she'll be eager to fetch you up with something representational. Without further notice he added the keys on the top of the bills and left the apartment.
.-.-.
A bath had never been so rewarding or fulfilling. Maria had scrubbed her hands raw to clean the entire bathroom and every inch of it had been cleansed with bleach up until the point she nearly fainted from the chemical fumes. Her mother had taken drastic measures in the kitchen and had been able to prep a simple meal.
Sunken deep into the tub she scrubbed the dirt from under her nails and wringed her hair, consumed into her refreshing task she didn't notice her mum coming into the bathroom. The quiet woman sat down on the edge of the bath and gave her surprised daughter a long and concerned look.
What is he to you, Maria? Her mother signed, a deep frown set on her forehead, the man that arranged this house, what is it he does?
Apprehensive, Maria shifted in the tub and wished the hard lines in her mother's face would soften now that they were safe and back together. She'd feared her mum would be raising questions and hoped she'd somehow postpone this parental interrogation. Biting her lip she occupied herself with wringing her hair, using it as an excuse not to look at her mother directly.
"He does what he does and I don't ask questions, it's not my place and he doesn't pay me to meddle with his business," She murmured slow so her mother could read her lips, running her fingers through her knotted damp hair. Through her short strings she noticed her mum's disappointment and a lump in her stomach started growing again. She'd always been a shy girl and used to cling to her mother's skirt with every new step, challenge, and personal problem. The loss of her father and brother had created a void between them. A grudge had nested inside her chest while her mother lost herself in deep grief and depression. The first few weeks after losing her brother her mum hadn't been able to eat or get out of bed. When their father went to the front line to fight for the king their mum spent most her time mourning and seemed blind for her daughter's shared pain. Maria had been the one taking care of the little ones who's tantrums grew by lack of stability and unprocessed grief.
Her family's downward spiral circled out of control. Losing their father and husband set Maria and her mum further adrift. And as if God went North, their farmhouse burned down to the ground, losing their animals, their home, and their possessions.
Their strong and happy family was shattered. Some left behind in the battlefield, vanished out of their lives and for what? A foolish war started by foolish men. Maria's grudge towards the foolishness and unnecessary death of both her brother and father had been another reason she and her mother drifted further apart. Her mum was proud that her child and husband fought for what was right and died a honorable death. Maria hated her brother for deserting them, dying for nothing and having their father walk right in his footsteps. For ludicrous ideals, taste for adventure and thrill. She'd been torn between mourning for her older brother and hating him. Because he put her burdon on her shoulders, she'd be taking care of her family for the rest of her life by shaking hands with a devil.
You're a smart young lady Maria, there is no employer in a city this careless and big that gives people like us a home for simple labour. That dress you bought today with that girl, that is not for a stablemaidens job. What is it you do when you're with that man?
I'm his personal speaker, he's a businessman and I acomminated him during meetings, Maria signed to her mother. She could feel the lump in her stomach grow and festing with the grudge she held for her brother's dissertation.
And after those meetings, what is it you do? Her mother pressed and pulled her wrist out of the bathtub, how did you get these bruises?
Maria snatched her wrist back as is she'd been touched by fire. Well aware the marks had indeed been inflicted by Tommy during the night at the Sheparth she felt obligated to defend her employer.
It's -nothing- mum. Leave it be! Her motioned where more clawing and hasty then usual.
But her mother wouldn't have any of it, torn between frustration and despair she pulled her daughter's wrists back into view, digging her fingertips into the bruised skin.
What if you get pregnant, Maria, think of the shame you'll bring on our family if you give birth to a bastard. Think of what life that child will have. By now her mother's eyes had filled up with tears and it caused Maria's throat to thicken and she had to swallow a few times before she could respond. Dejected, she brought her arms against her chest, hiding the bruises and her exposed body.
I haven't slept with him, nor am I planning to. But I can tell you this mum, I'd rather spread my legs for him then be a slave of Uncle Walter and Aunt Mirjam! Her facial expression matched her agitated motions. Sometimes her mother's deafness was a blessing, they could easily argue without her rubbernecking sisters evendropping.
What life did we have there? Accusingly she pointed her index finger to her mum, You allowed him to beat me, down trotting me and use me. And why? Because you are weak and disabled! And I don't want to be weak, not one more day in my life! And if I work for Mr Shelby he'll keep us safe. He has given me his word and for what it matters he's been keeping his in contrary of uncle Walter. If I work for him, we won't ever be weak. We won't be spat on and will be treated with respect. I've lost my father and my brother and I'm not going to lose you and my sisters too. There is no other alternative then this mum, besides the poorhouse. And honestly what do you think happens there with poor young girls and a deaf mother?
Her mother's handicap had never bothered her one day in her life. Mainly because she never knew what it was like to have a hearing mum. As other children where read a story before going to bed, her mum had done the same. In candle light her mother's expressions and rapid motions where not lesser than when their father read to them. If they got in trouble their mother's scornful eyes where as powerful enough as their father's angered voice.
But here in this city, her mother was a second-class citizen. The barrier between her and the rest of the inhabitants, fueled her depression and kept her indoors. Her mother was clueless how cruel this city was and she was unable to grasp the full extent of the sacrifices her oldest daughter was making to keep their family safe.
Mr Shelby might be wicked, mum, but he's not evil. Besides appearing harsh and violent, he has been kind to me so I'll take my chances.
Her mother pointed her finger at her. Your father would never have approved any of this.
Well, he isn't here to stop me, now is he? Resolute she stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself. Don't bring this conversation up again, I won't have it. I have enough on me without your judgment.
Roughly she banged her bedroom door shut and sank down on her tattered mattress. It squeaked and smelled moldy but it was hers and hers alone. She owned a house now, it was old, creaked and the smell of bleach still very present. It surely wasn't a gift, but it was hers and she was proud of it.
Discouraged by her mother's painful questionnaire she stared at the black boat neck dress she'd bought today. It hung over one of the dinner table chairs she'd claimed, Ada had ensured her Tommy would be pleased with it. She'd given Ada a watery smile and wondered what 'pleased' meant in Tommy's books.
Underneath the chair stood a pair of brightly polished Mary Janes that would probably give her blisters the first few days. But Ada had said it would look chique and pressed that it was the curse of being a woman, if you wanted to be pretty you had to suffer.
She pulled the dress over her damp body and made a little twirl on the tips of her toes. The tea length material felt magically empowering and the candlelight she realised she enjoyed that feeling.
From her bed she picked up a cloche vilted hat, the ribbon matching the color of her dress. It would hid her short outspoken hair and at times could offer shelter, by hiding her face.
Your father would never have approved any of this.
Her mum had been right, her father would probably turn in his grave if he knew what sinister path his oldest daughter had turned. But, in all honesty, what choice did she have?
This was going to be her life now, being a tool inside the web of a criminal gang. With no opportunities to raise questions and rely on the promise of a man that was known for his cutthroat attitude and violent outbursts.
It surprised her how calloused she felt about it, in a strange way she was relieved that it was Tommy and not her uncle Walter who'd be holding her strings and mastering his practice as her puppeteer. She's seen Tommy perform uncanning forms of unnecessary violence and was more than aware that his habit of alcohol abuse was blown out of all proportions.
But she also remembered his compassion towards his horses and how concerned he'd been during the birth of Precious. There lay kindness somewhere in the depths of his stoic icy blue eyes and from time to time it showed in pragmatic ways. He'd fed her even though it wasn't his obligation. He'd escorted her home, let her enjoy the horses even though it was passed her working hours. He'd taught her to play and shuffle cards and from time to time even tried to keep his alcohol consumptions to the minimal while she was working around him. He'd even beat up her uncle very badly on her behalf and had pulled everything out of his sleeve to find her back when she was gone.
Sure, she was of good use to him. But he hadn't been obligated to do all those things. So there must be some good in him and honestly that was all she had to rely on.
.-.-.
The Chinese market was crowded and buzzing with activity. Foreign tongues clashed with the thick Brummie accents and the scent of exotic spices, bleach from the dry cleaning and cooked Peking duck filled the streets.
The appearance of the three Peaky brothers raised many eyebrows and heads were turned but no-one was foolish enough to ask about their whereabouts. The Chinese had always been humble to the Blinders and kept out of their pubs and business. To show their good nature no member of the Blinders had to pay to get their suits cleaned, ironed and shoes polished. In return the Blinders kept their Brothel running and kept the coppers from inferring in the deeper layers of their markets; the non-legal part. They sold drugs, morphine and opium mainly spread and dealt to medical institutions because on paper they could make it appear legal.
Cocaine on the other hand was purely for the thrill; no doctor's note could make a line juridically correct.
"She's over there," John nudged his head into the direction of a scarcely dressed Chinese prostitute sulking against the doorframe of her room. The moment she sensed the group of criminals nearing her brothel her mood changed for the better. Adjusting her silk robe to reveal more cleavage she hooked her arm around John's and wilted against his side.
"Johnny, welcome!" She cheered overly friendly and ran her hand over John's bicep.
"This is Ai," John informed his brothers with a smug and blushy face. Tommy gave his younger brother a look of serious wonder and John cleared his throat. "Ai means love and affection, it's a very common name in China."
'Of course', Tommy thought, 'the perfect name for a whore, wonder if her parents had this phenomenal future of hers always in mind."
"This is Arthur and Tommy," John motioned to his brother's and Ai quickly and obediently nodded.
Completely ignoring Arthur she threw all her cheeriness at Tommy and bow her head deep and respectfully. "Tommy, I take you to Red Dragon, yes!"
Arthur -being the inferior leader of the Peaky Blinders- was practically spitting fire as the Chinese prostitute pulled John along and waved to Tommy to follow her. Agitated he growled something underneath his breath and shoved the first poor sod out of his way to show off his testosteron.
Tommy wondered if Arthur's artery would pop today and tagged after John. It was funny in a way how his official speaker was clinging to his side just as much as John's whore. Tommy didn't recall seeing Maria this nervous and although her dress gave her a bit grandeur, her lack of self confidence was obvious, even for a blind.
In broken English, Ai tried to babble to John who in return tried to answer with about three words of Chinese. It was enduring, weren't it his brother shouldn't be walking after his dick right this fucking moment. Tommy rolled his eyes as he scanned his younger brother's smug and sturdiness smile as he tried to have a conversation with the prostitute. Tromping through the streets as if they where his, bragging about guns and money. In Johnny-boy's books, this was puppy love.
Of course, from all the tits of Small Heath John had to fall for a pair exotic ones. And Ai's wanton strut along his side only encourage John's amorous demeanour.
"We're here," John informed his brother's, arm foundly wrapped around Ai's shoulders, "I'll wait here with her, ya'know? In case anyone tries to interfere."
Tommy raised an eyebrow and looked from John to Ai and back to John who uncomfortable ignored his gaze. Did John think he was retarded? On the other hand, he'd be having his hands full keeping Arthur under control. Having another hothead to screw up their entire deal would be a challenge. So he gave John a nod, motioned Arthur to get going and gave Maria's shoulder a light squeeze for reassurance since the girl looked ready to have a nervous breakdown.
They entered through the back-entrance of a restaurant and through a greasy kitchen they were guided into a room inside a room, divided by large red curtains. Inside the smaller space was a sober set of furniture; a low mahony wooden table, a paper skinned room divider and a few scarpet velvet pillows. They only thing that showed a glimpse of their host's fortune was a very rare Huanghuali square-corner cabinet, decorate with a golden lock.
At the head of the wooden table sat a gauntly elderly man, with a crooked back and no teeth, showed as he sucked absentmindedly on his long ivory pipe. His silver mustache and goatee were long, almost reaching the floor and what was most captivating was a large port-wine stain covering the better half of his face.
"So that's why they call him Red dragon," Arthur whispered a little revolted by the bended figure.
Their possible new business partner did not seem aware of their presents and absentmindedly continued to play mahjong.
"Master Cheng is pleased with your visite," a petite Chinese man stepped next to the Red Dragon. The man had a tonsure haircut - shaved like a monk and made a solleum appearance - "I am Yazhou Gu, Master Cheng's humble servant."
Master Cheng did not seem pleased at all, he only seemed interested in his game and gave his guests not even a blink of the eye.
Tommy couldn't care less, as long as the end result was a large pile of cocaine, but he could practically feel Arthur's rage boil for being ignored so obviously.
He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, almost as a owner keeping his dog leashed and made a little bow with his head. Arthur seemed less then pleased to show any kind of formality towards the frail elderly on the floor but nodded his head when Tommy squeezed his shoulder tight.
"Sit," the monk motioned to the pillows on the floor and the three of them sat down; Tommy facing the Red Dragon, Arthur as his right hand and Maria nervously kneeled down on his left.
"So much money and not one fucking chair," Arthur grumbled under his breath as he uncomfortably shifted on his knees.
Tommy used all his willpower not the laugh at the current sight he was seeing, who could have guest the fierce Peaky leader to do business with the Chinks? On the fucking floor, he'd made Arthur get down on his knees at a powerful ally for the second time in a row. Now that was something to be proud of.
"Master Cheng heard about your proposal," the monk stated, while the elderly man shifted his mahjong tiles.
Tommy exchanged gazes with Maria and the girl started her translation. "We are humbled by your presence and grateful for your time Red Dragon."
This time the elderly man paused his game for a mere second and looked up. Small beady eyes moved from Tommy to Maria as he puffed thoughtfully on his pipe.
"Master Cheng did not know you had a female speaker," Yazhou Gu stated disapprovingly.
"I lost my ability to speak during the war," Maria translated, "I was declared dead, but my spirit was stubborn and didn't leave my body, I paid a high price to be able to sit here."
For this information he received another short glance from the Red Dragon. It had been his aim, using his disability as an advantage. The Chinese had an entirely different religion but where at least as superstitious as the Gypsies. Being 'reborn' meant wealth and wealth was what they were both after.
Master Cheng's lip pressed firmly around his pipe and whispered a few words with his servant.
"You seem bold Mr Shelby. High spirited, like a dragon." There was a paused as Master Cheng whispered a few extra words, "We sell you a hundred kilo of the finest cocaine, no more no less. A hundred kilo for a thousand pounds. We need proof of your high spirit."
Arthur practically fainted hearing the enormous amount and reached over the table towards his brother.
"Tom, we don't have that amount of money, nor the capacity to store and export a hundred kilo of coke."
Tommy waved his caution away and without any further negotiation held out his hand.
Master Cheng's beady eyes studied him and solemnly took his hand with his own. The fingers of the elderly man's felt like twigs and long fingernails dug into his flesh.
Arthur was gobsmacked and the skin of his face matched the paper room divider. Maria seemed to be astounded by his boldless and translated with a thin voice. "Pleasure doing business with you Master Cheng."
.-.-.
The moment they stepped outside the Chinese restaurant, Arthur's hands grabbed his throat and started to strangle him.
"WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE?!" His brother shouted fuming. "We don't have a thousand pound, not even if we sell our boxing ring to Zilpha, not by far!"
This was one of the moments Tommy severely hated the fact that he couldn't yell back. He grabbed his brother's wrists and tried to unclench the iron grip around his neck. When that failed he settled with a firm punch against the nose because black dots started to blur his vision.
Arthur shouted from pain and frustration and let him go as blood seeped from his nostrils.
"Fine, fuck it! You fucking take care of this mess!" Arthur spat and marched away.
Tommy sighted and rubbed his bloody knuckles with a handkerchief. Brother Love made him want to run after Arthur but pride kept him in place. His brother should know better then doubting him. The deal was set. And all what remained was getting the money.
"We have a deal," Maria translated to John and Ai who'd witnessed the entire choking scene.
"Arthur doesn't seem happy," John said, stating the obvious.
"Fuck Arthur," Maria translated after a few moments in which Tommy used the 'fuck' sign at least for three more curses to address his older brother's lack of trust, "we have a deal, we're expanding business. And business needs to keep going."
'Because, that keeps me going,' Tommy thought as he lit a much needed cigarette.
.-.-.
A/N Sorry for the long delay, I hope this long chapter made up for it! A lot of steps have been made in this one. First of Maria is settling as Tommy's personal speaker. Second, I like how John is being a lovesick puppy around a prostitute. Third, they met the Red Dragon. An interesting character who'll be a big part of their cocaine empire. I also like how Tommy used his disability as an advantage.
The Peaky Blinders will need to raise their game in order to play with the big guys, luckily Tommy never does anything without a plan.
Once again, Comet96, thank you so much for your beta-reading!
To Guest, I regret not being able to reply back to you. You're basically the reason I picked up writing again. Your review made me smile, thank you so much for your kind words:)
Also, I think 100 kilo of cocaine for 1000 pound could be a deal. If anyone disagrees let me know, I'm not very familiar with the coke prices back in the day.
All feedback/reviews will kindly be run through Mr Shelby's personal secretary, please leave some.
Xoxox Nukyster
