VICES AND VIRTUES | Thomas Shelby

EIGHT

"Right, I'd never heard of you, then I did hear of you, some little Didicoy razor gang, I thought to myself, so what?" Kimber began to explain, "But then you fuck me over so now you have my undivided attention."

Florence was taken aback by his brazenness, no local would dare talk to the Shelby brothers in such a manor. Clearly this Kimber man had a reputation that was not worth messing with.

"By the way, which one am I talking to? Who's the boss?" Billy asked, glancing between the three brothers.

"Well, I'm the oldest." Arthur replied.

"Ha...clearly," Billy muttered.

"Are you laughing at my brother?" John returned sternly.

"Right," Billy scoffed, glancing between them, "He's the oldest, you're the thickest, I'm told the boss is called Tommy and I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking me up and down like I'm a fucking tart."

"I want to know what you want," Tommy replied calmly, something Florence had always admired about him.

"There were suspicious betting patterns at Kenton Park," The man wearing glasses answered, "A horse called Monaghan Boy, he won by a length twice and then finished last with three thousand pounds bet on him."

"Which one am I talking to?" Tommy asked, "Which one of you is the boss?"

"I am Mr Kimber's advisor and accountant," The man answered.

"And I'm the fucking boss!" Billy stood up dramatically like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, "Right, end of parley, you fixed a race without my permission, you fucking Gypsy scum what live off the war pensions of these poor old Garrison Lane widows! That's your level."

"I am Billy Kimber, I run the races and you fixed one of them, so I'm going to have you shot against a post." He told the Shelby men before turning and walking towards the door.

"Mr Kimber," Tommy spoke up, standing up as Kimber's two henchmen cocked their guns at him as he tossed something to Billy, "Look at it," Florence promptly realised that it was a bullet, "That is my name on it, it's from the Lee family, you are also at ward with the Lees, Mr Kimber, am I right?"

Kimber took a few steps of intrigue towards Tommy, "The Lees are attacking your bookies and taking your money, your men can't control them, you need help."

"Perhaps we should listen to what Mr Shelby has to say," The man in glasses suggested, "Before we make our decisions."

"Right, the Lees are doing a lot of talking at the fairs, they have a lot of kin," Tommy explained, "They are saying the racetracks are easy meat because the police are busy with strikes. But we have connections, we know how they operate, you have muscle. Together we can beat them, divided, maybe not."

Mr Kimber, perhaps we should take some time for reflection, possibly make arrangements for a second meeting," The accountant suggested.

"I admire you, Mr Kimber," Tommy sighed, but Florence could see straight through his facade, knowing he was on the charm offence, "You started with nothing and built a legitimate business, it would be an honour to work with you, Mr Kimber."

"Nobody works with me, people work for me," Kimber told him firmly, tossing a coin at Tommy as it fell at his feet, "Pick it up, pikey."

Tommy paused before crouching to pick it up, John rising from his seat as Tommy warned, "Sit down."

"That's for your ceiling," Kimber smirked before swiftly exiting the pub.

"Thank you, Mr Kimber," Tommy called out.