Chapter 23: Chapter 23
.
They shook hands and James Pryor went on his way along Swanston Street towards
the station raising his hat right and left to respectable looking passers by and nodding
jovially from time to time as he caught someone's eye.
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Gabriel walked the other way, round into Bourke Street while musing on the events
that had transformed his life since arriving in the colony. His thoughts were
interrupted by the sounds of fighting and shouting from the other side of the road. It
could be heard clearly, even above the other noises of the street.
It seemed the music shop was the centre of a disturbance. He looked across the road
and, as he did so, something happened and he saw the extraordinary sight of cracks
running as quick as lightning to the corners of one of Mr Gladman's shop windows
and then the glass fell out on to the flagstones with a smash that startled the whole
street.
A burst of swear words followed in a voice Fox thought he recognised, and a number
of invitations for Mr Gladman to come out and fight. Then the same thing happened to
another window. There was a smash as before and great shards of glass tumbled out
as people dashed back out of the way.
Fox dodged across the road to see if he could help.
He thought he knew the cause of Mr Gladman's present misfortunes. He was right. It
was Benno who was very drunk, but not too drunk to throw bricks through the
windows of Mr Gladman's establishment.
He had a section of the pavement to himself as he crunched back and forth on the
broken glass while vainly inviting Mr Gladman to step outside and go a round or two
with the honour of Ireland at stake.
A customer was staring with great round eyes out of the suddenly exposed shop. He
still had a flute to his lips as though about to play. A lady at the sheet music section
had dropped manuscript paper all over the floor but did not know it while further
back Mr Gladman crouched behind the cash desk.
"Why don't you come out and fight, yer greasy faced old mongrel," Benno invited him
urgently. Then he kicked away some broken glass still adhering to the frame and
peered into the shop.
"Look at 'im," he called out pointing at Mr Gladman while the customers shrank back
against the wall so he could have an uninterrupted view. "Doesn't like the Irish and he
doesn't like convicts. Well, my mum and dad were Irish and me old man did his time
and he was a bloody sight better man than you'll ever be."
He looked round for support but instead the constabulary was closing in. From the
corner they had heard the noise and shouting and had run to see what was
happening. Benno must have had a supply of ammunition for he quickly demolished
two more windows which meant, for the time being, he had run out of targets.
Benno looked at the leading policeman, who grasped him by the arm. "Oh Gawd, not
you again McGrath." He screwed up his face in disgust. "This is the second time
you've nicked me, why don't you go up to Little Lon. and beat up a few shielas?"
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"You've done it now, Benno." said the policeman casting a cool, professional eye over
the wreckage. "I reckon we won't be seeing you around for a couple of years after the
courts hear about this little lot. Hold him," he said to a second policeman who had just
arrived and he took out his notebook.
Benno was looking round at the crowd and unexpectedly caught sight of abriel.
His face lit up and he nudged the policeman. "There's me character witness, there's
Gabby. Him and me is business partners and he'll tell you what old nasty face had to
say about the Catholics and the Irish."
Gabriel now found himself under the suspicious gaze of the constables and matters
were not helped by Mr Gladman appearing from the back of the shop; he was shaking
with rage. "He's mad," he exclaimed, "insane! They should give him ten years and a
thousand lashes at the very least. What is this city coming to when a reputable
shopkeeper is not safe even in his own premises."
He saw Gabriel as Benno's words sank in. "Mr Fox, did you incite this larrikin to
commit such an act?" He turned to the policeman. "I have seen that ruffian before. He
was in Fox's office and made the most dreadful threats against me. I did not think he
would go to these lengths; and I would like to know what part Fox played in all this."
"Gabby's me mate," said Benno "Just out from England and he's a toffee nosed, stuck
up little bastard, but he's still me mate, and I'll take on any man here that says a word
against him."
"You see, Constable. I engaged Fox as an employee the very day he arrived in Victoria
because I considered it my duty to help young immigrants and I had to dismiss him
before the week was out because of his absences from work, insubordination and his
addiction to gambling. He may not have thrown the stones but I believe he incited
that larrikin you have there to this outrage because he holds a grudge against me."
"Just one fair whack at 'im, that's all I ask, one fair whack. I'll stoush the bastard and
Gabby'll hold me coat for me, won't you, Gabby?"
It was like a nightmare, to be walking quietly home and suddenly to find oneself in
this preposterous and humiliating predicament. To be the centre of a large crowd and
under suspicion of inciting a riotous, drunken wharf labourer to break shop windows
in the most public place and at the most public time possible.
"Do you know this man?" demanded the constable.
"O'course he knows me," said Benno. "Him and me we're partners in a land agency
and a building society. It was me what give 'im 'is start when he was just a green little
new-chum, straight off the boat. Pryor and Fox, estate agents to the gentry, that's our
firm. You won't find old Benno's name there anywhere, but they weren't too proud to
take 'is money to get their start."
"This young man should be saved for his own good," interposed Mr Gladman
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spitefully. "He has done nothing but associate with labourers, the lowest class of gold
fossickers and common drapers since he arrived in Melbourne. I believe that agency
could stand some investigation too. There could be all sorts of shady practices taking
place there.
Gabriel realized that Melbourne was a much smaller town than he had thought, and
his recent activities had not gone unnoticed by the gossip mongers.
By this time a large box painted glossy black, mounted on four wheels had jingled up
to the kerb. It was guided by a police constable sitting on a high bench at front and
drawn by two horses. This vehicle was completely enclosed except for a door at the
back which had a small barred window. On the side panels the cipher VR , and a
representation of the royal crown had been painted in gold and crimson.
"We had better go down to the station and sort this out," said the policeman who had
arrested Benno. The constable driving the vehicle got down off his perch and helped
the others to hold the struggling, protesting Benno while he was shoved into the
vehicle. They ignored his kicking on the inside panel and his shouted abuse directed
at Mr Gladman and the arresting officers.
"Now Sir, I think it would be a good idea if you were to come too. This
gentleman, the proprietor of the shop, seems to believe you had something to do with
smashing his windows. So on the whole you would be well advised to make a
statement. Would you like to ride with your friend?"
"I have been greatly injured by this young man," said Mr Gladman, addressing
the crowd, and indicating Fox. "But I want all here to witness that I have forgiven him.
His redemption will be foremost in my prayers and on Sunday I will ask the Brethren
to make a great intercession for him during the service. If it was not for the danger of
cutting our knees on the glass I would call on him now to kneel with me and pray to
be turned on the right path."
There were some cheers and hallelujahs from the crowd, but they appeared to
be ironical in nature. Nevertheless Mr Gladman was encouraged to continue. The
flock that normally attended his chapel was sparse and never before had he had an
opportunity to address such a large and interested crowd.
"My friends," he intoned, "I expect to suffer a great financial loss from the
outrage that has been committed on me today but I would suffer such a loss ten times
over if it would turn this young man from the course he is following towards his
eternal damnation."
"Oh, shut up! He's right, you are a bloody old hypocrite." Fox had been driven
beyond endurance by the false position into which Benno had put him and the
proselyting and accusations that were being made by his former employer. "Gawd,
why don't you get out a harmonium and have a hymn session on the footpath?"
Mr Gladman raised one hand and put the other over his heart. He looked
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sorrowfully upon the attendant throng.
"I am strong," he said, "I expected little else." He shook his head. "One day this young
man may come to grace, but not today. Take him, constable. I release him to the law
and the law must take its course, though I pray that his heart may be softened in
prison and when he eats the bread of punishment he will also drink the water of
grace, however," he continued, "I do believe that he should pay for the damage and I
will certainly present him with the glazier's bill when it comes to hand."
Gabriel hotly stated that he might as well present his bill to the Brethren for all the
chance he had of getting it paid.
"Now, Sir," said the policeman, ignoring Mr Gladman's indignation, "Do you want to
ride in with your friend? You will have to go to the station to make a statement."
This suggestion was rejected too. The indignity of getting into a police wagon in the
sight of all Melbourne just could not be thought of; someone might recognise him and
it could have a serious effect on his business or on Amy. Besides, he did not know if he
could trust himself once he was put in with the loathsome Benno.
At last they agreed he should take a cab at his expense and be accompanied by a
policemen temporarily excused from duty on the beat.
This was bad enough and the little procession departed for the police station to the
cheers of an idle mob. Several larrikins ran alongside the cab for a while calling out
cries of encouragement in the mistaken belief that Gabriel was actually the person
who had commited the outrage.
They soon fell behind and Gabriel was left to the company of the policeman who
seemed to enjoy the change from walking. He lay back in his seat with his heels on
the dashboard of the cab. He whistled and tapped the toe of his boots with his
truncheon.
"What's going to happen next?" Gabriel enquired anxiously.
"Ah," said the policeman, now rubbing his truncheon on his trousers to give it a better
polish, "that depends on the beak, you see; and it depends what your mate has to say
when he makes his statement. It seems funny, a cove like you knocking around with
Benno, him being well known for the occasional stoush, and he often spends the night
with us for being D and D."
Fox looked puzzled so the man amiably explained that a stoush was a fight and D & D
was the term for Drunk and Disorderly and that Benno had better watch out for a
sympathetic magistrate. He was not unknown to the bench and most magistrates
lacked a sense of humour, especially when it came to dealing with a wharf labourer
who got drunk and attacked the premises of a reputable shop keeper.
This did not concern Gabriel; at that moment he would not have cared if Benno had
been sentenced to be locked up for ten years. He just wanted the man to go away and
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not come back.
At the station, the still defiant, Benno was expertly plucked from the wagon by two
burly policemen and escorted by them to the counter where the sergeant looked him
over.
"What is it this time?" asked the sergeant.
"Drunk and disorderly, smashing a shop window in Bourke Street, threatening the
shopkeeper with violence, swearing in a public place, resisting arrest -- "
"It's all lies," said Benno as the sergeant opened a massive, calf bound charge book
and dipped his pen in the inkwell.
"You'll be sorry about this Sergeant. You wouldn't want your conscience to tell you
you'd sent an innocent man to jail; besides, I got a character witness. You wait until
you hear me mate Gabby. He said he'd come down and tell you the truth and he
wouldn't want to stay away when old Benno's in trouble because of all the lies they
tell about him." He indicated Gabriel who was standing by uncomfortably, waiting to
be spoken to.
The sergeant was surprised that such a respectable looking person would care to
associate voluntarily with Benno and was about to question him when there was an
interruption.
The double, half glass doors leading out to Bourke Street suddenly burst open and a
group of constables fell through struggling vigorously with a powerful looking man
over six feel tall. The arms of the man were bare to the shoulder and heavily tattooed,
as were Benno's. He was bald on top but had a shaggy blonde beard and moustache
and long hair hanging down the back. The man was shouting and swearing and held
two policemen tightly with his arms round their throats while he lashed out with his
boots at the others.
Gabriel was standing well back to escape the fists and feet that were being used so
freely when he felt a tug on his sleeve. They had been forgotten while everyone
concentrated on the uproar and helping to subdue the battling man.
Benno indicated the door with his thumb and eyebrows to show this was the way of
escape.
More policemen had heard the din and were hurrying from upstairs. No one noticed
the two as Gabriel was led secretly out of the door and they were in the street in front
of the police station before He pulled back from Benno's grip.
"I can't clear off!" he said, "Gladman knows who I am; he'll put me into the peelers,
and glad to do it if they go round and said I was on the run."
"He don't know me, and he doesn't know where I live. Tell him if he dobs me in I'll
wait until his windows go up and put a brick through them again. Anyway I'm goin' to
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piss off. If they want me they'll have to find me."
"You will be in worse trouble than ever if you clear off now, and if you want to tell
Gladman anything, tell him yourself."
"That's alright. I've been in worse trouble ever since Father O'Leary kicked me out of
communion class, and never invited me back. Look after the business for me Gabby,
I'll be back for me dividends later on." With a cautious glance around and a grin over
his shoulder he scuttled off towards the river.
There were not many pedestrians around; most Christmas shopping was done further
east. At this, the Western end of Bourke Street, there were mainly warehouses and
businesses specialising in supplying the needs of country people. They were
prosperous but not particularly reliant on passing trade and there were few people
walking the pavements.
Benno had moved fast and by the time Fox counted to twenty and faced the
unpleasant prospect of re-entering the police station he had disappeared from view.
In the station the big man had just been quelled. He had handcuffs on and what
looked like the beginning of a nasty bruise on his bald pate. Two policemen held him
up on either side while the sergeant entered the charge and others gathered round to
assist the two constables who had been held by the throat.
Gabriel went and sat quietly on a long, wooden bench with no padding on its seat or
back and waited for someone to pay attention to him.
In a few minutes they had dealt with the bald-headed man. He was just another
incident, a violent incident, in their working lives and he had been dealt with. The
men he had been trying to choke had recovered after a fashion and were rubbing
their throats and working their necks to relieve them.
The sergeant finished underlining the latest entry when he glanced up quickly.
"Where's that larrikin, the wharf labourer?" He looked round the office as though
Benno may have been lurking unnoticed in a corner.
"You, Sir, You came in with him, where did he go?" Gabriel shrugged. He said he was
leaving, he did not want to be mixed up in any fighting. Perhaps he's waiting in the
street."
The sergeant pointed at a man and gestured with his thumb towards the door and the
constable went outside. He returned after a minute and shook his head. "He's
skipped."
"It's Seamus Benjamin Murphy, the wharfie, who knows him here?" enquired the
sergeant, "he's just bolted from the station."
One of the men who had been choked put up his hand, as did another constable.
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"He'll make for the wharf," said the sergeant, "or else back to the pubs in town.
Dawson, you go along Bourke Street towards the city and Smith you can head along
King Street to the river -- and step lively. If you don't find him he can go on the
Wanted List for tonight."
he two men clapped on their helmets, which had been picked up from the floor, and
departed rapidly.
The sergeant fixed Fox with a stern eye. "I hope you had nothing to do with this
escape, Sir. We'll get him, no doubt about that. He's not the sort of man that can stay
under cover for too long. Once he gets a thirst on him there's no stopping him, and we
know what pubs he goes to."
"Is he a criminal?"
The sergeant shook his head slowly. "No, he's a larrikin. He gets drunk, he doesn't
actually start fights but he soon gets mixed up in them. Breaking those windows is
the worst he's done so far. But why would a gentleman like you associate with the
likes of Benno? I think you had better tell me about it."
His association with Benno fascinated sergeant who made extensive notes but was
not able to see where any charges could be laid except against Benno.