Widows

by Lynda La Plante

  Audrey was clearly disappointed, but as she slipped the envelope into the pocket of the mink coat, she smiled. I post a letter and get a mink coat for me troubles, she thought to herself. Not a bad day’s work, Audrey. Not a bad day’s work at all.

  What Audrey didn’t know was that the letter contained the deeds to the house, a copy of Harry’s will, and a letter of instruction for Dolly’s lawyers to sell the house and everything in it. The lawyer would then bank the money in a new account. This was it for Dolly. No turning back.

  As Shirley entered Dolly’s bedroom, the smell of burning was still in the air, although there was no sign of fire or anything burned. The contents of the dressing table still lay scattered across the bedroom floor where Dolly had thrown them. A bottle of nail varnish had smashed against the wall near the wardrobe and the deep plum colored contents had slowly seeped out and onto the cream carpet. Shirley was shocked to see such a mess in an otherwise pristine house and blamed it on one of Dolly’s meltdowns. Searching the drawers of the dressing table, she eventually found Dolly’s dark glasses and was about the leave when she noticed a stray scrap of material on the carpet. She slowly opened the wardrobe door and gasped. There wasn’t a single article of clothing in Harry’s wardrobe that hadn’t been cut to shreds. Even his shoes were slashed or stained with a rainbow of nail varnish colors. How tormented Dolly must have been to be so destructive and how strong she must have been to hide it all morning. Shirley realized that there was much more going on inside Dolly Rawlins than she could never imagine.

  Back in the lounge, Dolly handed Audrey her own tatty coat and woolly boots. “Stick them in the boot of the Merc,” Dolly instructed.

  “I might have to wear the boots, actually. I’m no good on the clutch in high heels.”

  “There is no clutch,” Dolly replied. “The Merc’s an automatic.”

  “A what?”

  Oh, God, thought Dolly. I’ll have to give the stupid woman a crash course in how to drive! “Come through to the garage. I’ll show you.” She was being as patient as possible, considering that it was now almost 4:30 a.m. and they sun would be up soon.

  Audrey got into the driver’s seat and Dolly explained the two pedals and shift stick. Dolly could see that Audrey was getting her left and right mixed up, so she punched her hard in the left thigh. “Don’t use the leg that hurts, all right, love?”

  They headed back into the house, where Shirley handed her mum the dark glasses to complete her disguise. Audrey took some deep breaths; this was the most exciting thing she’d ever been asked to do.

  “Well,” she said to Shirley. “Have a nice time away. And I suppose I’ll see you when you get back.” Audrey leaned forward to kiss Shirley on the cheek, but Shirley grabbed her and hugged her tight.

  “Bye, Mum,” Shirley whispered.

  “Come on. We got to go.” Dolly didn’t want Audrey to start thinking there was something wrong.

  “I love you” Shirley added, turning quickly away from her mum. She went out of the front door to open the garage doors from the outside, so Eddie could see her.

  Audrey put the Merc into reverse and started to back it down the drive. Shirley waved from the front door step. “See you later, Dolly,” she called and started to close the garage doors. A nervous Audrey put her foot down a bit too hard on the accelerator and the car lurched backward at speed into the road. Audrey hit the brake and turned the wheel at the same time. The car screeched: the rear wheels skidded off to the right and in a panic Audrey slammed it into drive. It lurched forward and took off at high speed down the wrong side of the road, but Audrey soon righted herself and off she went.

  Eddie had watched all of this unfold. As soon as Dolly’s Merc fired up, Eddie had started the Granada. It was unusual for her to kangaroo down the road as clumsily as she did, but Eddie figured that she was in a hurry. Maybe she’s cracking up, he thought. If so, then taking the money from her would be like taking candy from a baby. Eddie smiled to himself as he thought about all the money he, Bill and Harry would end up with. “Stupid bitch,” he muttered as he took off after Dolly’s Merc. “You done all that hard work for nothing. Cos now we’re coming for you, Dolly Rawlins.”

  From the living room, Shirley watched Eddie’s car turn the corner. Behind her, Dolly stood, all ready to go, holding the two suitcases.

  “He’s gone.” Shirley took one suitcase from Dolly and they both headed for the front door.

  “Come on then, Shirl—move it. The way your mum drives, we might not have as long as we need.”

  Dolly and Shirley ran as fast as they could down the road toward the cul-de-sac where Shirley’s Mini Estate was parked up. Shirley’s ankle was still bruised and every step was agony. “You still there?” Dolly shouted back without looking.

  “I’m right behind you,” Shirley replied, battling through the pain. Then the adrenalin started to take effect and Shirley found her stride, closing the gap between her and Dolly. When they reached the car, they threw the two identical cases into the boot on top of Shirley’s suitcase.

  Shirley bent down by the driver’s seat and reached underneath to find the keys. Dolly impatiently tapped the roof of the car with her hand.

  “Come on, darlin’,” Dolly said. “Your mum’ll probably have crashed by now and Eddie will have figured out that she ain’t me.”

  “I can’t find—” Shirley froze. “What would he do to her?”

  Dolly realized her joke was a mistake. “Nothing, Shirl, I promise. He’s a coward.”

  “That’s not what you called him earlier,” Shirley replied, still searching for the keys. “You said he was a runt who slaps women and kills dogs. Well, she’s a woman, Dolly, and if he lays one finger on her . . .” Shirley stood up with the car keys in her hand.

  Dolly took the keys and spoke gently. “I know love . . . you’ll kill him.”

  Shirley stared at Dolly. Strong and fixed. “No, Dolly,” she said. “Not him.”

  Shirley walked round to the passenger door, leaving Dolly staring into space. She’d probably lost Shirley completely now. Dolly had used Audrey and Greg to get what she wanted. What she needed. Greg could have ended up in prison and Audrey could still end up dead. Shirley, the girl who had once looked at her like a mother, hated her.

  But Dolly would make it right. Once they were safe, she would make it right.

  Chapter 37

  Alice knew she could get into trouble if she got caught, possibly even lose her job, but she was doing it because George Resnick had asked her to.

  She’d been in the office since 6 a.m.; no other admin staff were about this early to see what she was up to. Picking up the files and the neatly typed notes from her desk, she put them all into a plastic bag, hurried off down the corridor and out of the station. None of the night shift officers gave her a second look as she passed them.

  As arranged, Resnick was waiting for Alice in the greasy spoon round the corner. He was slurping on a coffee and eating a sausage and egg sandwich covered in HP sauce when she arrived. He waved to the waitress as Alice sat down. “Nice to see you, girl.” He smiled, showing little bits of sausage skin between his teeth.

  “And you, sir,” Alice replied, eyeing the brown sauce dribbling down Resnick’s fingers. If he got any of that on the files, everyone would know exactly who’d been handling them. Resnick was forever spilling things on important paperwork and all his files had been decorated with coffee rings from his dirty mug.

  The waitress brought a pot of tea to Alice and Resnick beamed. Alice hated tea, but she accepted it with thanks: it was rare that Resnick bought anyone anything. She got up and collected a pile of napkins from the counter and handed them to Resnick, waiting until he’d obediently wiped his mucky hands before handing him the first file. Then she gave him a summary of the most important bits of information.

  “You won’t find much there about Jimmy Nunn. He’s got no criminal record so I got everything from the Social. He’d had high hopes of being a racing driver
, and he’s got two traffic convictions for reckless driving and speeding. Married to Trudie, one child aged six months. Receiving Child Benefit, non-taxpayer, unemployed for two years and, according to the dole office, he hasn’t claimed for the past two months.”

  “Why hasn’t he claimed, Alice?” Resnick asked. “Prison? No. Traveling? Probably not if he’s got a six-month-old kid. Employed? Doubtful, after two years of skiving. Dead?” He glanced up at Alice and she could almost hear the cogs turning.

  Alice passed Resnick the second, larger file. “William Grant was released from Brixton prison nine months ago,” she said. “Grievous bodily harm, robbery, arson.”

  “Murder?” Resnick asked.

  Alice poured herself a cup of tea. “No murder convictions. But you’ll see that his crimes are—what’s the word?”

  “Random?” Resnick suggested.

  “Yes. Often no connection to the victim, nothing stolen . . . it’s as though he was acting on behalf of someone else and getting his money that way.”

  Resnick smiled again. He loved the way Alice’s brain sometimes worked like his. She had superb gut instinct. “You’re right, Alice. He’s a hired thug. The last time I put him inside, he was ‘no comment’ from the get-go.” Resnick looked at the photo. It was definitely the same man he had seen leaving Jimmy Nunn’s house.

  “And now . . .” Alice passed Resnick the third file—the file on the latest security wagon raid.

  Resnick read fast. It was page after page of textbook Harry Rawlins MO. He knew it was Harry bloody Rawlins. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I’ve got him, Alice. We’ve only bloody well got the bastard!”

  Alice checked her watch. Any moment now the day shift could come in for their morning fry-up. “Sir—you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?” she asked.

  Resnick closed the file and handed it back to Alice, who put all the files back into the carrier bag. He smiled again. “I’m on my way back, Alice. They were all wrong about Harry Rawlins being dead. And I’m going to show them.” He looked at Alice’s worried face, her big hands clutching the plastic bag to her bosom. He leaned across the table and placed a big wet kiss on her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t like to see you worried—especially about me.”

  Alice managed a quivering smile before she got up and left the cafe. Her heart was pounding, partly because she knew Resnick was now going after Harry Rawlins on his own and partly because she could still feel his warm, sticky lips on her cheek.

  Instead of going straight to tell Harry about the arrival of the mystery woman at Dolly’s house, Bill Grant had taken a detour via the lock-ups by Liverpool Street. He reasoned that the mystery woman had to be part of the robbery team. Harry was preparing to come out into the open and confront Dolly at the house. If the money was there, Bill would get his measly cut and Harry would get the lion’s share. But if the money was at the lock-up and Bill found it on his own—well, then, screw Harry Rawlins.

  He didn’t realize how much time had passed as he searched every nook and cranny of the lock-up. He’d found nothing, and when he’d looked at his watch, he’d realized it was after 7 a.m. He was an hour late: he’d been supposed to pick up Harry at six . . .

  When he got to Trudie’s, Bill parked up and ran from the car up the stairs to the flat, breathing heavily as he knocked on the door.

  Trudie opened it. She looked him up and down as if he was lowlife. “Come in,” she said. “Harry expected you an hour ago.”

  Bill tapped his watch as he entered the lounge. “Sorry, Harry. This thing’s on the blink again. Nothing’s happening at your place anyway: they’re like sitting ducks.”

  “Really?” Harry said. “Then someone’s lying.” He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, white crew neck T-shirt, blue jumper and trainers.

  “What do you mean?” Bill said nervously.

  Harry closed in on Bill, his stare menacing. “Where you been, Bill? What you been up to?”

  “I did grab a quick bit of shut-eye after I left Eddie—I’m knackered, Harry.” Bill didn’t dare tell him he’d been to the lock-up. He saw the look of simmering anger on Harry’s face. “What’s happened?”

  Harry’s eyes lit up with rage. “While you was kippin’, Doll pulled a fast one on the pair of you! She got someone to dress up as her and drive away in the Merc. That prick Eddie fell for it and now we don’t have a fuckin’ clue where Dolly’s gone. And you can guarantee the money ain’t in the house now.”

  It was beginning to dawn on Bill that he’d messed up big time. “So, where’s Eddie now?”

  “He phoned me earlier, his car’s knackered so he’s making his way here by bus. When he arrives, we’re all going to the house to tear it apart. There’ll be something there; some clue as to where Dolly’s gone or where she’s stashed the money.”

  Dolly pulled up outside Victoria bus station to drop Shirley off. Shirley would get the bus to Heathrow and Dolly would continue by car, so nobody would suspect they were traveling together. The street was pretty busy, even at that time of the morning, and the idea of being jostled about by strangers with a hundred grand in a suitcase was sending Shirley into a panic.

  “I can’t do this, Dolly. I want to stay with you.” All her earlier bravado had disappeared.

  Dolly, on the other hand, was now back in complete control. “I’d like us to stay together as well, darlin’,” she lied. “But you know why we have to split up. We can’t be seen arriving at the airport together in the same car. No one can suspect we even know each other. Come on.”

  She got out of the car, opened the boot and heaved the money case and Shirley’s case out onto the street, setting them down just outside the passenger door. Through the window, Dolly could see that Shirley had her head dipped and was crying. Bleedin’ ’ell, Dolly thought to herself. She’s all I need! Getting back into the car, she said in a loving voice, “Go on, darlin’. Couple of hours and we’ll be in the air. This time tomorrow, we’ll be by the pool with Linda and Bella sipping—well, sipping whatever the hell they drink in Rio.”

  Shirley looked at Dolly with her puppy-dog eyes. “All right,” Dolly said finally. “You can stick with me. Go and put the cases back in the boot.”

  As soon as Shirley was out of the car, Dolly chucked her handbag out after her, slammed the passenger door shut, started the engine and was off up the road before Shirley realized what was happening. She was about to shout and curse after Dolly . . . then she looked around and decided against it. The idea of drawing attention to herself was even more frightening than the idea of making her way to Heathrow all on her own.

  Eddie arrived at Jimmy Nunn’s, exhausted and sweating. The bus hadn’t come and he’d had to run over a mile. When Harry opened the door, he dragged Eddie in by his scarf, tightening it so hard that Eddie’s face went blue. Eddie feebly pushed at Harry’s solid shoulders, but Harry didn’t shift an inch.

  Harry spoke calm and low. “You’re a fucking waste of skin, Eddie, you know that? If I killed you right here and now, who’d miss you? Eh? The bookies. And that’s only a maybe.” Eddie’s eyes bulged in his head as his face turned purple and his hands screwed Harry’s jumper up in his fists. Harry stared into Eddie’s eyes and waited for him to stop moving.

  From behind Harry, Bill spoke. “This ain’t a good place to remove a body from, Harry. Way too busy.” Harry released his grip on the scarf and Eddie fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Bill helped him up onto the sofa and sat beside him.

  Harry paced up and down in front of them, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. “If she’s gone—if the money’s gone—I’m going to kill the pair of you. Starting with you.” Harry pointed his finger at Eddie.

  Eddie was terrified. Inadvertently, he let out a small giggle. Harry tore across the room, ready to beat him to death. Bill stood up and stepped in between them to catch Harry. With all his might, he pushed the furious man backward.

  “I said not here!” Bill shouted, hoping to God
that Harry would listen. “I’m trying to help you, Harry! He might be a useless piece of shit, but this is your home. Your girl and your kid are just through there. If you want him dead, fine, I’ll do it meself when all this is over. When we got the money and Dolly’s got what’s coming to her for making you look like a fool. It’s her you’re angry at, Harry, not him. He’s nothing.”

  The red mist faded, Harry slowly calmed down and turned away from Eddie to stop himself losing it again. Bill glanced at Eddie and gave him a small wink. It was like being smiled at by a crocodile before heading in for a swim.

  “We’re going to go back to the house,” Harry said, “and we’re going to tear it apart.” He snatched up his coat. “COME ON!”

  From the bedroom, Trudie raced out and grabbed Harry’s arm. “Please, Harry! It’s daylight. I’m begging you not to go out. If anyone sees you, that’s it. It’s all over.”

  Harry lurched toward Eddie and grabbed his scarf again. Eddie nearly pissed himself on the spot but Harry put the scarf round his own neck, pulling it up to cover his nose and mouth.

  For a split second, it had occurred to Bill that he and Eddie might stand up to Harry together: he couldn’t take the two of them on in a fight. The thought was short-lived as he watched a quivering Eddie rub his sore neck and attempt to walk in a straight line, and the two of them followed Harry out of the flat.

  Trudie ran to the window just in time to see the three men get into Jimmy’s BMW. As Trudie watched Bill drive off, she noticed a car parked a short distance away pull out at the same time. It stopped and didn’t move off again until another car was sitting between it and the BMW. At the end of the road, the BMW turned left, the car immediately behind it turned right but the suspect car waited for a van to pass and sit behind the BMW before it pulled out, also turning to the left.