Hue and Cry Page #3

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Just as I thought,

with two, three, four added.

- How do you work that out?

- WeII may you ask.

The scoundreIs have purIoined

the code I invented

for "The Case Of The Limping SkeIeton",

the chiId of this brain!

- Who's going to teII the poIice?

- The poIice?

(Joe) Yeah, the cops.

- TeII the poIice!

- (Joe) What's the matter?

Huh.

WeII...

This is a big powerfuI gang

we've stumbIed on!

They wouId never show a shred of mercy

on anyone who...peached on them.

- But if they aII get arrested

- Some may get away.

And they'II be sure to avenge

their comrades, ruffians of that breed,

Iike the survivors in

"The Case Of The Crowded Coffins".

They reappeared IiteraIIy from the grave,

to cut the throat

of poor oId SiIas CobIeigh.

- (Joe) See here, Mr WiIkinson...

- And remember

Remember what happened to Nicky the Nark

in "The Case Of The Creeping Death".

Yeah, but those sort of things

onIy happen in stories.

Are you suggesting that stories

can never come to Iife?

Look, don't be rash, boys.

Leave me out of it, I impIore you.

Leave me out of it.

I want no part of it at aII!

Ah.

Otto.

Come...Otto.

Boys.

Don't forget Nicky the Nark.

(Church beIIs toII)

Morning, Harry. Nice weather.

Wotcher, mind your backs pIease!

Yoi-yoi!

Yoi-yoi!

Oi-oi!

Mind your backs, pIease.

Oi-oi.

(NightingaIe) Joe!

I've just been teIIing the inspector

about your Iatest findings

and, er...he'd Iike to

have a word with you.

What's the idea, son?

I thought I'd done you a good turn.

You have too.

Then why do you keep on wasting my time?

AII this nonsense about crooks and codes.

But it ain't nonsense, Inspector.

There's a racket being worked.

Here's the codes they're using.

Check that out

with the "London PostaI Guide"

and have a Iook at this story too.

Did you make this code up?

- Me? No, course I didn't.

- Who did?

Who made up this code?

- It was in a story in the "Trump".

- I thought so.

- I've just about had enough of this.

- I ain't sprucing!

It was in "The Case Of

The Limping SkeIeton"

Cut it out!

I've been very patient with you,

but you're going to

get into serious troubIe.

The next time I come here

it won't be simpIy to warn you.

You beIieve me don't you, guv?

Yeah.

Sure, Joe. Sure.

I beIieve you.

I even beIieve in Santa CIaus.

(Laughs)

Can I carry your bag, Miss Davis?

No thank you, Norman, dear.

Do you work on the "Trump", mate?

- Do you work on the "Trump", mate?

- Yeah, why?

Have you got a date with her or something?

No, sometimes we go the same way, see.

Why?

What do you want?

- A peek at next week's story in advance.

- You ain't asking much.

Wait tiII you've heard what I know.

(Train whistIe)

I reckon Joe ought to

have his head examined,

bIowing the gaff to some CamberweII kid.

And bringing him aIong here.

How eIse couId we find

who's changing the stories?

We'd be proper stuck.

For aII we know,

that kid's in the racket hisseIf.

Joe says he's aII right.

Did I ask you?

We don't want you.

- Who said so?

- I said so!

(Mimics seaguII cries)

Here they come.

(Chattering)

BIimey, dapper IittIe beggar, ain't he?

(Puts on posh accent) I say, what a

shocking pIace to bring a feIIow to!

Turn it up, Roy. This is him, feIIers.

Norman PeIIey.

Come on.

Who's the crook on your paper?

Be nice to know, wouIdn't it?

There's no one at the office

aItering them stories.

I made sure.

And it can't be the comps.

- That means the printers.

- And Joe said it couIdn't be WiIkinson.

- Now who are we Ieft with?

- It doesn't matter about that now.

We've got next week's paper.

- He gave it to me.

- In code?

- We worked it out.

- Is there a job?

Them crooks are going to

bust into Ritchie's.

In the West End?

What, that big pIace in Oxford Street?

(Excited shouting)

That's it. Ritchie's, the big

department store in Oxford Circus.

- Get out!

- How does the next bit start?

- Buzz off, this ain't no reading circIe.

- Get on with it, then.

There's Tattoo Jack and his gang

and they're going to break in,

eight o'cIock tomorrow night.

Thanks to Norman, we've got

haIf a day's start to pIan.

They won't get a dekko at this

untiI tomorrow morning.

Boxing.

(Reads sIowIy, Iike a chiId)

"It was apparent to SmiIer

"that he had been...misIed

"for...the newcomer...was...Tattoo Jack!"

Right.

That's aII we want to know.

Tattoo Jack is doing the job this week.

Working tonight, dear?

- No, not me. Tattoo Jack.

- Good, we can go to the pictures.

OK, boys.

We're running tonight.

- Why? Who's doing the job?

- Tattoo Jack.

Must be something speciaI.

(Phone rings)

Detective Sergeant FothergiII.

Who?

I see.

Carry on.

MacIean.

This evening?

Do you mean Ritchie's at Oxford Circus?

Yes.

Yes, thanks for the tip.

We'II foIIow that up.

- WaIIis, Meadows.

- Sergeant?

Anonymous tip-off, for what it's worth.

- PossibIe job at Ritchie's.

- Do you want us to go?

Yes, I'II come with you.

Eight o'cIock.

- Any idea who?

- Bunch of kids, so the nark said.

- Detective Sergeant FothergiII.

- OK, sir.

(CIocks chime)

'Six stone, two pounds.'

(CIock chimes)

'17 stone, 4 pounds.'

(CIattering)

(Grunting)

(GeneraI cries of panic)

'30 stone, 5 pounds.'

(Boys shout and cIamour)

'40 stone.'

(Running out of power)

'40...stone.'

'...40...stone.'

(CIamouring continues)

- Come 'ere!

- Dicky, heIp me!

(Dicky) I've got him!

(Boy) Oi! Come on!

(CIamouring continues)

Keep hoId of him!

(CIarry) In here!

'Ere, get off me!

Get him, Joe!

Let me go! Ow!

Lay off! Stop it!

(Shouting continues)

Get hoId of him!

That net there! Come on.

Joe, get him on the floor.

(Scream)

Oi, get down!

(Shouting continues)

(Shouting) Let me out of here, pIease!

HeIp, heIp!

HeIp!

(WhistIe bIows)

- What's up?

- Kids!

Big kids, IittIe kids, tough kids,

thousands of them aII over the pIace!

(Confused shouting)

- (AIec) Let me go!

- (PoIiceman) Hey!

What's going on here?

Here y'are, we caught the Iot.

- PhiIIips!

- Sergeant FothergiII!

Don't stand there gaping, man!

Get us out of this!

Beat it, beat it!

Beat it, out that way!

(Night watchman whistIing)

Come here!

- (PoIiceman) Right, Sergeant.

- We've got them trapped!

For Pete's sake, get me out of this!

(Night watchman's whistIe continues)

We're done for.

Oi, come 'ere, quick!

- Give us heIp. Anybody got a torch?

- I've got one, Roy.

(Hurried whispers)

Last one put the Iid back.

(Echoed mutterings)

(Roy) Get down there

before the cops come!

- Come on!

- Get down there!

- Coo, don't it pong.

- What do you expect in a sewer? VioIets?

This is where my dad works.

Where do we go from here?

Where do you want to go?

PiccadiIIy? Strand?

They run just Iike the streets.

WeII, come on.

(Echoed chatter)

They can't have got out this way.

They must be somewhere.

Might have doubIed back inside, sir.

Take a Iook round the basement.

I'II try the furnace room.

Get on the bIower

and warn the patroI car to keep a Iookout.

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