The Camden Tales

67 - Teardrop

-=₪ July 1908 ₪=-

Vita d'Oro / Clerkenwell / 2.05am

The jewellery shop was quiet and dark, its interior showcasing an array of exquisite jewellery in glass-topped counters and cabinets, all securely locked. The silence suddenly shattered when the front window exploded into fragments from a large rock thrown through it. A cloaked man then kicked away the remaining shards, clearing the window frame. He, with others in tow, entered swiftly; one was ready to loot, two more held lanterns and another carried a large bag.

Without hesitation, they went to work. The lantern bearers illuminated the space while the first man smashed every glass pane with his rock, exposing the precious items. With leather-gloved hands, they scooped up the jewellery and tossed it into the waiting bag.

Glancing down the street one way and seeing no movement, Alfie scanned the other direction. A black cat slinked across the street. As he turned back, he noticed the efficient looting but was soon distracted by the allure of the valuables inside.

Entering through the broken window, Alfie was captivated by the glittering array of watches, rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings amid the shattered glass. These treasures far surpassed anything he had seen in the pawn shops. He marvelled at how the room sparkled like a brilliant night sky as the lanterns moved. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, Alfie picked up a white gold ring with a solitaire teardrop diamond, mesmerised by its beauty and clarity.

"Watch it," one of the men warned, nudging Alfie aside to access the rings cabinet.

Alfie, pocketing the ring discreetly, inquired, "So, how do you shift all this?"

"The boss has a bloke in Poplar," replied the man, busy emptying trays into his bag.

"What bloke?" Alfie pressed.

"Nosy, ain't ya?" another robber retorted.

"Anything to do with the Irish?" said Alfie.

"Shut ya face, Jew," snapped the lead robber, turning to face Alfie. He drew a revolver and aimed it at Alfie, "You ask too many questions. The boss don't like questions."

Alfie had never before experienced the terror of a gun pointed directly at him. His eyes were now transfixed by the ominous black hole at the end of the barrel, rendering him motionless. The pounding of his heart was so intense that it seemed to reverberate through his entire body, blurring his vision with its rhythmic thudding. He felt a heat rising in his cheeks, a flush of fear and adrenaline, and noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead as the cold metal of the gun stared unblinkingly at him.

"I don't know why the boss felt the need to 'ave ya 'ere," said the gunman glaring at Alfie, "but count yer lucky stars he does, 'cause if it were up to me, you'd be shot and strung up like the dog ya are so all the dirty blood could run from yer filthy veins."

Lowering the gun and after a firm shove, the man left Alfie reeling amid the sound of crunching glass underfoot. The robbers exited through the window, hurrying to a waiting horse-drawn carriage. As they threw their loot inside and clambered aboard, a police whistle pierced the air. A startled officer rounded the corner, yelling for them to stop.

Alfie, climbing out the window, glanced towards the carriage and noticed it packed. The gunman sent a sly, unsettling grin Alfie's way before slamming the carriage door shut, leaving Alfie behind. The driver cracked the reins, prompting the horses to move.

The police whistle pierced the air once more as the officer, now sprinting towards Alfie, demanded a halt. Seeing the carriage beginning to pull away, Alfie dashed towards it; after a short chase, he managed to grab the rail and hoist himself onto the carriage step as it began to gain momentum.