(1937-11-20) Out in Hoxton
Details for Out In Hoxton
Summary: Sloan and Knockers holds 'court', as it were, and Jack attends.
Date: 20 November 1937
Location: Hoxton
Related: None

Hoxton London
Tue Nov 20, 1937 ((Sat Nov 03 19:41:08 2012)) (G,1)

It is a fall night. The weather is warm and stormy.

From Regent's Canal on the North and Old Street to the south, Hoxton is filled with the poor and the criminal. There are many run-down furniture shops and factories, and the residences are even more run down as most of the wealth moved out of the region in the previous century. That isn't to say there isn't still some culture. Britannia Theatre, Hoxton Hall, and the Pollock's Toy Museum can be found in this district. Gainsborough Film Studios also reside here.

Evening has come to to the city once more, and thus Sloan and Knocker Harry sit in their usual chairs in front of a small barrel fire. a third chair sits empty as always under the small tarp sheltered space. for the moment, neither of them is talking, Sloan smoking his cigarette, Knocker leaning back with his long stem pipe resting on his chest.

Jack's about; usually is unless he's abed. Though, recently, since the jumping, there's word that there might be someone looking for him to nick him for the crime what's been committed during a B&E. Easy cop. Grease the right hands, and it's a done deal. Razzers get their man in the pen, the others keep free another day.

Ducking his head, Jack's got a cigarette out already, lit and almost down to the end, and a half-finished bottle kipped from.. somewhere. No matter. It provides warmth, and with the fire? Double. "Oi.." he announces, and comes in before he looks to settle, standing, on the outside. "All's abed. Righ' as rain."

Nodding to Jack, Sloan nods. "Oi to yerself. How goes?" Knocker for his part remains silent. Offering a slight nod, though he might be asleep.

A grunt is the beginning of the response, followed by, "N'bad, all's said." He's got his Cockney up fully, relaxing under the booze and cigarettes. "'Turning t'the scene o't'crime. You ain't 'eard of aught runnin' fer me, aye?" Jack finishes the rest of the cigarette, as much as he can, and stubs it out on his boot, and sets the remaining tobacco back into the can for later rolling.

Raising an eyebrow, sloan shakes his head. "Nae lad. these men that' attacked ye. ye know any of 'em?"

"Aye, I do. Us' t'run wif 'em.. grabbers mostly. Den, B&E. Rik, Jez an' Baz." Jack runs a hand through his hair, and rolls his shoulders to get warm, feeling some of the fire's glow from where he's standing. "Was talked up t'me as straight B/E. Den, came out a bloke was gonna be done, tyin' all fings t'gether. No' sure if'n the grab an' go was what's what, or the offin' of da geezer was."

Raising an eyebrow. Sloan clears his throat. "Hold one me lad. ye tellin' me ye were accessory to a murder?" there was a quiet menace in Sloan's features, more so than usual. "an' Don't lie tae me, or try tae make things easier on yerself Jack. I'll know an' it'll go badly." taking another drag of his cigarette, he watches Jack, Knocker's eyes open as well now.

Jack shakes his head quick, "N'like dat, Sloan.. I ain't.. an' I pulled out when I hear'd it was th'plan. Dat's when they jumped me, figgurin' they'd se' me up for the tag. I woke up a'the Cauldron coupl'a days later. Fair cops'da use of a wiz pot on me, but nuffin' like murder by deaf.." He runs a hand over his mouth, pulling the skin down, and drops his hand again. "Ain' like dat. I'm straigh'.." Mostly. Getting there! Slowly but surely.

Watching Jack for another moment, Sloan scratches his head. Be fecked if I understan' one word in 5 that comes outta yer Gob when you get worried Jack." finishing his cigarette, he tosses the butt into the fire and nods. "Right. well. ye know where tae find any of this lot then?"

"Rik an' dem?" Jack shrugs. "'Round.. prolly down an' laughin' at th'pub. 'Aven't shown me face a'll, so dey may fink I'm pushin' daisies." Which, of course, is his only advantage at the moment. And, at that, he lifts the bottle and takes a swig of the swill he's got. (Not stealing from the Cauldron!) "No idea 'o th'geezer were, either."

It looks as if it's the last thing Jack wants to do in this world, and probably the next if one were to ask him. "Ah.." and he pulls out his cigarette case.. it shines silver with a black mark.. a signature on the back. Pulling out a cigarette, he pats his pockets for a match, but instead walks forward to the bonfire. Picking up a stick, he lights the end, taking a light drag, then laying the wood back down. "They don' know I'm up an' up."

Standing quietly, Sloan grunts. "You lad, can stand outside the door and point your friends out to me. and then ye can hide in th' alley, aye?"

Jack looks a little surprised Sloan doesn't know the blokes, but he nods, certainly more relieved. "'Aight.. all's right. I'll point 'em out an' wait." Not a problem! He's got his drink and cigarettes. "Th' Arms.. off 'Olloway."

Scratching his chin, Sloan makes a face. "What. that bunch of shites? Ah Feck Jack ye have terrible taste in companions." Seeming more annoyed now than anything, he waves the man on. "come on then let's get tae it." With that, he heads down the street, Knocker standing and brushing some ash from his moss covered coat follows along, rumbling quietly as he moves

Jack looks at the warm fire.. and the direction Sloan's going.. and back at the fire.. and then as Knocker rises to his feet, he exhales in a soft curse, "Bloody 'ell.." Putting the bottle into a pocket, he pulls his coat tighter 'round about him, and heads off at a trot to catch up, cigarette pressed in his lips so he doesn't lose any of it.

It didn't take Sloan long to get to the bar in question. Stepping in the front dor, Sloan clears his throat as Knocker closes the door behind them and leans on it. Meanwhile Sloan speaks quietly after looking around the room. "Anyone not sitting at Tha' table." pointing to the table with Jack's friends at it, he continues. "Should leave through th' back door 'bout now. aye?"

Jack doesn't enter the building, instead leaning against the wall out front, cigarette in hand, dark eyes looking into the night. The bottle is remembered, and pulled from its place, uncorked, and another swallow is taken. Gah.. life is good!

As for within, however.. the entrance of Sloan and Knocker doesn't necessarily take everyone's notice. The words, however, spoken soon after certainly does. There's a voice that calls out, "Still go' my pint!" and another, "Nae leavin' t'my lovin'!" while others actually do take the hint, recognizing the menace in the softly spoken words.

The table, Rik, Jeremy (Jez) and Sebastian (Baz), looks up at the newly entered too. Three youths, not more than 25, at the oldest, each with the pretty 'standard' fare of clothing (and cleanliness) that one would find on poor street toughs. Rik, the ring leader, blinks over his pint of bitter, and his brows rise. "Oi.. c'm'in t'join us, den? Sorry.. we don't play like that. Like the ladies, we does.." then he calls to a bird that is making her way out. "Oi! Luv.. don' go!"

<FS3> Sloan rolls Fighting -3: Great Success.

Sloan wasn't really one to bandy words, or repeat a request. grabbing an empty mug off the table next to him, he hurls it at Baz' head, Following it in, He simply drives his knuckles into Jez' nose the whirlwind of motion continues as He grabs Rik by the front of the shirt, pulls him forward and slams his head into the boy's face, snarling through clenched teeth at the same time.

Like most toughs, the young men aren't much on the actual physical when it comes down to it. Sure, perhaps when they're on their feet, have a blade in hand, or a bottle.. but now? Bluster and bravado are hallmarks; that thing that is always fallen back to when met with an opposing force that is.. all force.

Not the best decision that could have been made.

The glass doesn't so much bounce or glance off Baz' head as much as *thunks* and sends the young man from the chair and down. He's dazed, and he's rubbing his head, the glass breaking the moment it continues that momentum after colliding with the skull. That's going to leave a mark. Jez? The knuckle.. tissue isn't soft and gentle against his nose, and he's bloodied with the very real question as to whether or not he'll need serious medical attention regarding possible skull fragments in the front portion of his brain.

For Rik, now.. well.. he's hauled up quickly.. damn the geezer can move, and it's all he can do to mitigate the headbutt. But.. there's no real hope, and the slam certainly does bring stars to his eyes, as well as tears, though that's an autonomic reaction. "Oi.." he says weakly..

Hauling the boy across the table face down, Sloan pins him down with an elbow pressed between the shoulderblades. Pointing at Jez, he grunts. "Knocker, see to him" Attention back to Rik, he grunts. "Right lad. Want tae have a chat wit' ye. I wanted tae do it th'easy way. but you annoyed me, so we does it the really easy way, Aye? I'll ask ye some questions, ye lie tae me…I cut on you some. Ye still lie tae me, I cut yer feckin' eyes out. Then I take yer ears… Ye still lies tae me, I takes yer feckin tongue and I start on yer friend. Aye? Now, tell me, who hired ye tae break intae an old man's home and kill 'im?"

When the violence erupts, there is the impetus for those who might have lingered for words for their sudden and rapid departure. Jack still stands at the front door, his foot tucked up and laying flat against the wall, knee raised, and he's got his cigarette and booze. Happy man.. or rather.. content.

Jez is down, but groans the moment he's attended to by Knocker. Rik gives a nervous glance, but a glance is all he's got a chance for before Sloan slams him back down and pins him. A soft *oof* sound comes as air escapes the lungs rapidly, and at the beginning of the interrogation.. "No one!" Rik calls, but it's a blatant lie. "Geezer was 'ome.. an' we didn't wanna.. but a mate said take 'im.."

Raising an eyebrow, sloan sighs. Using his free hand, he removes a long bladed steel scalpel from a hidden pocket on his suspender, letting it drift across Rik's vsion he scores the top of th man's earlobe with his thumbnail, a quick sharp movement. It will leave a red mark but not draw blood. "Lie one. Next is yer eye…now Who. and wha' mate tol' ye tae take 'im?"

Jack can hear the clearing of the pub quite clearly from his vantage point in the front, and he smiles a thin-lipped smile as he takes another drag on his cigarette. Turning his head, he catches the beginnings of the forms as they head out, down the street in one direction or another; some alone, some in pairs.. and groups. He chuckles softly, and exhales, blowing smoke through his nose.

Rik doesn't quite scream as more.. make a sound that sounds like a choked version thereof. "'Awksworf.. Jacko.. y'mus' know 'im! Stuff weren't good 'nuf for 'im, 'e said. I told 'im t'leave it lie.." Ohgodohgodohgod..

Leaning closer, Sloan Grunts. "Rik. I am going to let you up in a moment. Now when I does. ye have 2 choices. First bein' ye can try tae take me on. But I promise. doing that, th' best tha' can happen is ye never dance again…or enjoy solid foods. Second choice is ye leave…not just the bar, or the city. ye leave the feckin' country. I hear Edinburgh is nice. Boston is nicer…because if I e'er sees you or yer friends again. I'll kill ye without a word or a tear…and from this night on. I be huntin' for ye. I have yer scent, I knows what yer fear tastes like lad and I will eat…yer…soul." That said, he stands, letting Rik stand and take his chances one way or the other.

Right now? Rik can believe everything Sloan is saying to him.. and it scares the living daylights out of him. He takes a couple steadying breaths, and as he feels the weight lifted from the center of his back, he pauses, hesitates, as if he firmly believes he'll be pinned again. After all, why not? First move always brings them in again for more of the same. Lie still an' y'might live. Then, of course, is the.. choice. Not much of one, and as the young man straightes, rather painfully, he looks at Sloan now, and that dread and fear just.. and he backs up. He'll not go for him, oh no.. Leaving the country sounds sooooo much better. Boston.. didn't someone say something about Boston a bit ago? Good weather, good work, maybe good pickin's. Another step is taken back, and if he's allowed, he'll turn about and get the hell out.

Nodding to Knocker, Sloan turns and heads for the front door Knocker after making sure the other man isn't going to die follows though he glares at the other 2 and nods. "Follow him." him being Rik. a couple sedonds later Knocker and Sloan emerge into the night. turnsing and moving pask Jack, Sloan grunts. "Jacko."

As if the two wounded couldn't move any faster than basic injuries allowed, well.. Baz with his goose-egg and Jez with his bloodied face, they manage to move pretty damned fast. Chairs and tables in their way not withstanding. They're out the back, following Rik.. but if they leave the country? Who knows if there's honour amongst those thieves?
When Sloan and Knocker come out the front, dark eyes move to the the door, and upon seeing who those departing are, pulls his foot down and he joins them, behind them. Jack's got a half smile, one of.. curiosity, concern and a little bit of satisfaction that comes to see a bigger fish take on the guppies on his behalf. Mind, not that he makes such things as this a habit

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License