Joey Kerrigan arrived in London in January 1912. He did not have a place to stay.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he thought, smiling. ‘Joey’s luck is going to find me a room.’
Joey thought a lot about luck. ‘One day I’m going to be rich,’ he told everybody. ‘Lucky people get rich, and I’m lucky.’
After a lot of walking, he found a room I n a house. It was near Tower Bridge. The room wasn’t very big but it was cheap. The landlord’s name was Mr. Webber. He looked Joey up and down.
‘What’s your name?’ he said. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Joey, Joey… Smith,’ Joey said. ‘I’m from Ireland.’
‘Well, you can have the room,’ Webber said, ‘but I want two weeks’ money now.’
‘I’ve only got one week’s money,’ Joey said.
‘And tomorrow’s Sunday,’ Webber said. ‘You can’t find a work on a Sunday. So when can you give me the second week’s money?’
Joey smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. ‘I can find work,’ he said. ‘I’m lucky. Good things happen to me. It’s called Joey’s lucky.’
On Sunday Joey stayed in bed all morning and in the afternoon he went for a walk. After an hour, he took a bag from a woman in Fleet Street.
The woman shouted, ‘Stop! Stop!’
But Joey was now fifty metes away, and there were no other people near.
Joey laughed and ran down a little street, then between two tall buildings down to the river.
He stopped and opened the bag. There was some money in it, but not very much. He took the money out, then put the bag into the river.
Later that day, he walked past a bookshop. There were lots of people there, looking at books, and Joey moved carefully between them. For a second he stood behind a fat man, then moved quietly away. The man did not feel Joey’s hand in his back pocket, but the man’s wallet was now inside Joey’s shirt.
It was a big, fat wallet, and when he got back to the house, he gave the landlord the second week’s money for the room.
‘You found work on s Sunday?’ Webber said. ‘Where? Who with?’
Joey smiled. ‘I told you, I’m lucky. Joey’s luck!’
For the nest three months, Joey Kerrigan walked the streets of London most days. He stole handbags from women, or things from shops, and he took wallets from men’s pockets. One morning at the beginning of April, he took a wallet from the pocket of an old man with a red face. Joey was usually a very good pickpocket – people never knew anything about it.
But not that morning. The man with the red face was quick. He turned, saw Joey, and shouted.
‘Hey! You! That’s my wallet! Come back here!’
But Joey was a good runner too. In two seconds he was round the corner into another street, then round another corner, and then he jumped onto a bus.
‘Joey’s luck!’ Joey said, laughing.
There was more luck for Joey that week. He first learned about Theo Goldman’s money in a pub near his landlord’s house. Webber went to the pub most evenings and sat with his friend, Goldman.
Goldman had a shop not far from the pub. He bought and sold a lot of different things – tables, chairs, beds, clocks, watches, books, pictures…
When Joey went into the pub that evening, he saw Webber and Goldman at a table near the window. There were a lot of people in the pub. Joey bought a drink, then found a chair near Webber and Goldman. They did not see him. Joey sat with his back to them, and listened.
‘But I need money to buy things when people bring them in,’ Goldman said.
‘Some money, yes,’ Webber answered. ‘But a hundred pounds or more? And in the shop? No, no, Theo!’
‘It’s not in the shop,’ Goldman said. ‘It’s in my room at the back.’
‘Do you have a good place to put it?’ Webber said.
Goldman laughed. ‘A very good place,’ he said.
Joey sat with his drink, thinking. He knew Goldman’s shop because it was in the same street as Webber’s house. Joey often walked past it.
‘A hundred pounds or more. I’m going to get that hundred pounds!’ he thought. ‘Then I can do anything! Perhaps begin a new life in America!’
He smiled. Joey’s luck again!
So the money was in the room at the back, in a very good place. But where was that place?
Joey saw an open door to the room at the back of the shop. Through the door he could see a table, two chairs and a big cupboard. Was Goldman’s money in that cupboard?
Suddenly, the old man looked up, and Joey quickly turned and walk away.
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