The Thousand Faces of Night

Johnson moved forward unsteadily and sank down into a chair while Papa Magellan quickly poured brandy into a glass and handed it to him. Marlowe stood in the background quietly watching.

‘Who beat you up, boy?’ Magellan demanded grimly. ‘O’Connor’s men?’

Johnson swallowed his brandy and gulped. He appeared to find difficulty in speaking. Finally he said, ‘Yes, it was that big chap, Blackie Monaghan. I went round the shops like you told me, and it worked fine. I got rid of all the stuff for cash.’ He pulled a bundle of banknotes out of his jacket pocket and tossed them on to the table. ‘One or two people told me they weren’t interested. I think someone must have tipped O’Connor off.’

He paused again and closed his eyes as if he was on the point of passing out. Marlowe had been watching him closely. A cynical grin curled the corners of his mouth. Johnson had been slapped around a little, but nothing like as badly as he was trying to make out. He was over-dramatizing the whole thing, and there had to be a reason.

‘Go on, son,’ Magellan said sympathetically. ‘Tell us what happened then.’

‘I was having a cup of tea in the transport café just this side of Barford on the Birmingham road. Monaghan came in with a couple of young toughs that hang around with him. They always turn up at the Plaza on Saturday nights after the pubs close, causing trouble. Monaghan followed me outside and picked a fight. Said I’d been messing around with his girl at the dance last Saturday night.’

‘Is that true?’ Magellan asked.

Johnson shook his head. ‘I didn’t even know what he was talking about. I tried to argue with him, but he knocked me down. One of his friends kicked me in the face, but Monagan stopped him and said I’d had enough. He told me I’d stay out of Barford if I knew what was good for me.’

Magellan shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Why this?’ he said. ‘I don’t understand?’

Marlowe laughed shortly. ‘It’s the old tactics, Papa. Officially this has nothing to do with O’Connor’s feud with you. It’s just a coincidence that Johnson works for you.’

Maria’s face was white with anger. ‘We must go to the police,’ she said. ‘He can’t get away with this.’

Marlowe shrugged. ‘Why not? If Johnson went to the police what good would it do? It wouldn’t touch O’Connor. Monaghan would be fined a couple of pounds for common assault and that would be that.’

‘I don’t want to go to the police,’ Johnson interrupted, and there was alarm in his voice.

Papa Magellan frowned. ‘Why not, son? You could have the satisfaction of seeing Monaghan in court, at least.’

Johnson got up. All at once he seemed capable of standing without swaying. His voice was a little shrill as he said, ‘I don’t want any more trouble. I don’t want to get mixed up in this any further. I didn’t know it was going to be like this.’ His face was stained with fear, and there was a crack in his voice. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Magellan. You’ve been pretty good to me, but I’ll have to look for another job.’ He stood there, twisting the cap between his hands. ‘I won’t be in tomorrow.’

There was a moment of shocked silence, and Maria turned away, stifling a sob. Magellan reached out blindly for support, his whole body sagging so that he looked on the point of collapse.

Marlowe found himself reaching for the old man, supporting him with his strong arms, easing him down into a chair. ‘Don’t worry, Papa,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to be fine.’

He straightened up and looked at Johnson. Shame was beginning to replace the look of fear on the other’s face, and then that terrible, uncontrollable anger that he was powerless to control, lifted inside Marlowe. He surged forward and grabbed Johnson by the throat and shook him like a rat. ‘You dirty, yellow little swine,’ he raged. ‘I’ll give you something you really will remember.’

He flung Johnson out into the hall with all his force. The man lost his balance and fell to the floor. As Marlowe advanced towards him he scrambled to his feet gibbering with fear, and then Maria grabbed at Marlowe’s hair, wrenching back his head. She slapped him across the face and screamed, ‘Stop it! Hasn’t there been enough of this for one day?’

As Marlowe raised an arm to brush her away, Papa Magellan ducked through the door, suddenly active, and clutching Johnson by the shoulder pushed him towards the outside door. ‘Go on, get out of here for God’s sake!’ he said. Johnson threw one terrified look over his shoulder and scrambled through the door and out into the fog.

There was quiet except for Marlowe’s heavy breathing. Maria was not crying this time. Her face was flushed and her eyes were flashing. ‘What is wrong with you?’ she demanded fiercely. ‘Do you want to hang some day? Can’t you control yourself? Is your answer to everything violence?’

Marlowe stirred and looked down at her. He swallowed hard and said, ‘When I was a kid my father wanted me to be a doctor. He was a wages clerk, so I had to be a doctor. I didn’t want to be one, but that didn’t make any difference. He beat me all the way through school until one day, when I was seventeen, I discovered I was stronger than he was. I slammed him on the jaw and left home.’

He fumbled for a cigarette with shaking hands and continued. ‘There was a Chinese officer in charge of the prisoners at that coal mine they sent me to in Manchuria. Li, they called him. A little name for a little man. He had a complex about his size, so he didn’t like me because I was big. I used to work in a low level, up to my knees in freezing water, for twelve hours a day. Sometimes if he didn’t think I’d worked hard enough, he used to leave me in there all night when the others were brought up. I still get dreams about that. He used to turn up in the middle of the night and call down the shaft to me, his voice echoing along the passage. Other times he’d have me strung up and he’d beat me with a pick handle.’