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Albert simply snorted at her defence of Bennett; he was not in the mood for rational argument. He didn’t care what she had to say. Harry Watson was trying to play his game, and Albert was the best at playing in the whole of the East End. Watson had made a mistake taking his wife and the policeman would soon know about it.
Her calm demeanour infuriated him; the woman was cold and heartless after all her own child had gone missing. Yet this woman did not seem to care.
"Hurt me and we'll see where you end up. As of right now, we've done nothing wrong - Bennett attacked and kidnapped her. Attacking me will only end with you in a cage and your wife in the hands of Watson."
“If we ‘ave done nothing wrong then why ‘as Watson think it’s a good plan to take Nellie ay?” Albert shouted his voice gruff and he did not step away from Elizabeth staring at her as if that could fix this mess Bennett had got them into. “You can’t hire anyone to ‘urt me Liz, no one would dare. And you wouldn’t dare go tell the Bobbies. So if Nellie gets ‘urt. You’ll pay.” His angry tone was quiet, he wasn’t shouting anymore; no he voiced his threat as if it was a promise. Which it was. "I think you should be far more concerned with finding your wife than standing here threatening me, Albert."
“You should start worrying about ya own life Lizzie.” He said as he pushed past her, opening the door letting the noise of the public house filter into the silent back room as he left.
He didn’t run back to his home, nor did he dawdle. Albert didn’t shout Nellie’s name or ransack the place as he entered his home. She wasn’t here, he knew that and he wasn’t about to lose his wits.
The note neatly placed on the table caught his eye straight away. Grasping it, he read it slowly, before reading it again. The rage inside him bubbled over. He scrunched up the paper throwing it, before throwing everything in the kitchen to the floor screaming audacities and wishing Watson dead.
His anger had taken over, but after a few moments sat in a completely derelict kitchen he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, Albert got his thoughts together. Opening the cupboard under the stairs he took out his shovel doing as the note said, he’d need it for when he killed Watson anyway, he’d get rid of him the old fashioned way. He thought with a grin.
He head for the cemetery. Ready to play the game.
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