The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More(14)

        ‘Phew!’ I gasped. ‘That’s done it.’

        ‘We was caught,’ my passenger said. ‘We was caught good and proper.’

        ‘I was caught, you mean.’

        ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘What you goin’ to do now, guv’nor?’

        ‘I’m going straight up to London to talk to my solicitor,’ I said. I started the car and drove on.

        ‘You mustn’t believe what ’ee said to you about goin’ to prison,’ my passenger said. ‘They don’t put nobody in the clink just for speedin’.’

        ‘Are you sure of that?’ I asked.

        ‘I’m positive,’ he answered. ‘They can take your licence away and they can give you a whoppin’ big fine, but that’ll be the end of it.’

        I felt tremendously relieved.

        ‘By the way,’ I said, ‘why did you lie to him?’

        ‘Who, me?’ he said. ‘What makes you think I lied?’

        ‘You told him you were an unemployed hod carrier. But you told me you were in a highly-skilled trade.’

        ‘So I am,’ he said. ‘But it don’t pay to tell everythin’ to a copper.’

        ‘So what do you do?’ I asked him.

        ‘Ah,’ he said slyly. ‘That’d be tellin’, wouldn’t it?’

        ‘Is it something you’re ashamed of?’

        ‘Ashamed?’ he cried. ‘Me, ashamed of my job? I’m about as proud of it as anybody could be in the entire world!’

        ‘Then why won’t you tell me?’

        ‘You writers really is nosey parkers, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘And you ain’t goin’ to be ’appy, I don’t think, until you’ve found out exactly what the answer is?’

        ‘I don’t really care one way or the other,’ I told him, lying.

        He gave me a crafty little ratty look out of the sides of his eyes. ‘I think you do care,’ he said. ‘I can see it in your face that you think I’m in some kind of a very peculiar trade and you’re just achin’ to know what it is.’

        I didn’t like the way he read my thoughts. I kept quiet and stared at the road ahead.

        ‘You’d be right, too,’ he went on. ‘I am in a very peculiar trade. I’m in the queerest peculiar trade of ’em all.’

        I waited for him to go on.

        ‘That’s why I ’as to be extra careful ’oo I’m talkin’ to, you see. ’Ow am I to know, for instance, you’re not another copper in plain clothes?’

        ‘Do I look like a copper?’

        ‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t. And you ain’t. Any fool could tell that.’

        He took from his pocket a tin of tobacco and a packet of cigarette papers and started to roll a cigarette. I was watching him out of the corner of one eye, and the speed with which he performed this rather difficult operation was incredible. The cigarette was rolled and ready in about five seconds. He ran his tongue along the edge of the paper, stuck it down and popped the cigarette between his lips. Then, as if from nowhere, a lighter appeared in his hand. The lighter flamed. The cigarette was lit. The lighter disappeared. It was altogether a remarkable performance.

        ‘I’ve never seen anyone roll a cigarette as fast as that,’ I said.

        ‘Ah,’ he said, taking a deep suck of smoke. ‘So you noticed.’

        ‘Of course I noticed. It was quite fantastic.’

        He sat back and smiled. It pleased him very much that I had noticed how quickly he could roll a cigarette. ‘You want to know what makes me able to do it?’ he asked.