“’Cause that’s where t’ boys will lay low wi’ our old shipmate, Zeke Burnham, an’ where you’re takin’ t’ Pride in a week.” Grinning he added, “An’ yer sister Mavis lives there.”
“Zeke? T’ carpenter on Inflexible?” A knock at the door interrupted him.
“The same.” Mick opened the door and grinned. “Right on t’ minute. Dickie, I don’t think yer’ve met me bruvver, Sergeant Jonathan ’Owell o’ t’ Metropolitan Police, ’ave yer?”
The smartly turned out policeman nodded briefly at the gaping Dickie Byrd. “Mister Byrd, Mick’s tol’ me about yer. Good ter meet yer.” He turned to his brother. “Me Inspector is in place, an’ he’ll wait on t’ signal. But yer needs ter know ’e’s ’ad a tip-off. There’s a special guest there ternight, one we’ll not be able ter finger—an’ you shouldn’t either. Let us get i
