Death at Victoria Dock Read Online Free PDF Page B

all the traditional accompaniments, except Yorkshire pudding, which Phryne did not like, having had a surfeit of it in early childhood.
    ‘Yair,’ agreed Cec. ‘He wouldn’t be no help. What was the tattoo, Miss?’
    Phryne drew it on the tablecloth with her finger. Bert whistled.
    ‘You know it?’
    ‘Anarchists,’ said Bert, consulting Cec with a glance. ‘Anarchists, they have that tattoo. Bad men, Miss.’
    ‘Are there anarchists on the wharf?’
    ‘Yair, reckon. We got all sorts, Miss. Lot of ’em are Wobblies, and there’s the comrades, then the Stalinists and the Trotskyites.’
    ‘Which are you, Bert?’
    ‘I’m just a commo, Miss. I don’t care about what’s happening in Russia. I reckon with a history like theirs they won’t make any better fist of communism than they did of feudalism. Big, strange place, Russia. And I don’t like their leaders. Since Lenin died and the Tsar was assassinated it’s all gone down. Pity. The Great Social Experiment, it is. But with a system which still uses the army to crush the masses, I don’t hold out much hope for it. Here is where we need the Revolution, Miss. Can I have some more lamb?’
    Mr. Butler loaded Bert’s plate. Cec put in, quietly, ‘If you are going to be mixing with the anarchists, Miss, I reckon you’d better take us along. I hear that they have guns. Why not let Bert and me go to ground and see if we can pick up a whisper? They used to rob banks,’ he added, ‘and you can’t just go into Markillies’, Miss, can you, and have a beer with the boys.’
    ‘No, I can’t, and that is a generous offer, but I would not like to send you into danger,’ protested Phryne. ‘The Revolution needs you—and I need you, too. And Alice needs Cec.’
    ‘Yair,’ agreed Bert. ‘And my landlady needs me. Another thing. Come September the tenth the wharves will be dead. No one will report for work. So we’d better get cracking.’
    ‘Why will no one report for work on the tenth?’
    ‘Beeby award,’ growled Bert. ‘They’re trying to reorganize the docks. Want two pick-ups a day. That means that if you don’t get a job you have to wait for the late pick-up. Man could waste a lifetime hanging around. They want to lower our wages and cut down conditions and grind us into the dirt, so they either change the award or we go out, and we stay out.’
    ‘Well it’s the first of September today. Better, as you say, get cracking. I’ve told you all I know, which is very little. Go anywhere, spend any money, but I want these bastards. They shot my car and they tried to shoot me and they killed a beautiful young man and he died in my arms and I cannot forgive them. Understood? Any news, ring me. I’ve got another job, but this is of the first importance.’
    Bert nodded, with his mouth full. Cec accepted ten quid on account and stowed the notes away.
    ‘Tell me all you know about the anarchists,’ she ordered.
    Bert swallowed, shot a glance at Cec, and began, ‘They were involved in the fight against the Tsar in Russia, that’s where they learned their bad habits. They blew up Tsar Alexander, the last Tsar’s father. They believe in nothing; that if society was free, without laws or police or gaols, then it would be virtuous. Meself, I can’t see it. And they act like ordinary gangsters. In London in 1909 and 1910, they staged a few bank robberies and a wages snatch which went wrong. Political consciousness ain’t no replacement for good planning, Miss. They shot their way out, killing children and women, which real revolutionaries would never do, then finally got caught in the Siege of Sidney Street—you must have heard of it.’
    Phryne nodded. She had been in Australia and a child at the time but some news had filtered through.
    ‘They poured bullets into the house, and the anarchists poured ’em out. Eventually the house caught fire and they were all killed.’
    ‘So that was the end of them?’
    ‘No, Miss! You can’t kill off