“Sergeant Watters!” Ma Ramsay tapped Watters on the shoulder. “I want you.”
Watters blinked, surprised to see Ma Ramsay outside her home. She looked out of place in Dock Street, with all her gaudy finery exposed to the early autumn sun. “What can I do for you, Ma?”
“We’ve got trouble at my workplace,” Ma Ramsay said, with shadows in her dark eyes. “Two of my porters have been beaten up, and the other didn’t turn up for work.”
“What’s it about, Ma?”
“Hairy Meg,” Ma Ramsay said. “Do you remember that fellow you sent away a few months back?”
“I do,” Watters said, “Herbert Balfour.”
“That’s the man. Well, he wants exclusive rights to Meg.”
“He wants to marry her?”
“Nothing like!” Ma Ramsay snorted. “He wants me to keep her for him and nobody else.”
“And he attacked your porters?”
“Ye
