She turned back to watch the screen. ‘That girl’s playing me for a complete tit. I should’ve made it my business to keep an eye on her all these years but I didn’t so I want you to find out everything about her. Who gets into her knickers; who took her in after Frankie went south; does she like watching Snow White or shoving it up her snout? Everything.’ She lifted her head to look at him. ‘And while you’re at it check out Tommy’s new gun-for-hire as well.’
Almost half an hour later Ricky was in the bog. The one on the second floor, with the three cubicles and mirrors from wall to ceiling. He could’ve used the en suite in his and Daisy’s room but she might have heard what he was up to. Mind you, he needed to be quick because Stella had ordered him to be with Daisy every second of the day. In his experience he knew that loos were usually the only places that didn’t have CCTV. He sat on the toilet seat as he quietly spoke into his mobile phone.
‘They’re planning something. A job.’
‘What type of job?’ The man on the other end of the line was the person who’d rammed his car into Tommy’s SUV.
‘Stella needs to get a deposit box. It’s inside a bank. Belonged to a lawyer called Charlie Hopkirk. That’s all I have for now. You figure it out.’
‘You mean a bank job?’
‘Can’t say for certain . . .’ He stopped when he heard the main door open. A set of feet, no, two sets of feet, one in heels.
‘Sh,’ he whispered into the phone.
He heard the cubicle door furthest away from him open.
‘Now put your head inside the toilet, slave,’ a woman ordered.
‘Yes, mistress,’ a timid male voice replied.
Great, Ricky thought. He had to choose the loo where a dominatrix was earning her fee making some poor john suffer. ‘Now what does every slave deserve when he’s naughty?’ she bit out.
‘A good spanking, mistress.’ The male voice had risen to heaven-high excitement.
Yes, mistress, no, mistress, three bags full, mistress. It was like being married, Ricky thought as he rolled his eyes. Then he heard a whooshing sound tear through the air. ‘Ouch. More, mistress,’ the punter begged.
‘Talk later,’ he whispered. Cut the line and crept out of the loo with the sounds of sexual pleasure ringing in his ears.
‘We’re gonna do a bank job this Friday.’
Stella’s bold statement jolted the occupants in her office the next morning. Billy. Tommy, at his usual spot on the piano stool. Ricky. And, of course, Daisy. No way, Daisy thought. No way could she get involved in a robbery. You put yourself in the shit, girl, she chided herself, and now you can’t run away.
Stella carried on talking. ‘That means we’ve got three days only, so pay attention. And of course whatever I say in this room stays in this room.’
Appalled at what she was hearing, Daisy finally shot to her feet. ‘No, I can’t get involved in this . . . .’
Stella cut over her with scorn. ‘You had your chance to back away yesterday, girl, and you never took it. You’re the one who said you wanted to be involved—’
‘But you never said anything about a robbery!’
‘What did you think was going to happen?’ Stella stared at her as if she had two heads. ‘That I’d switch my phaser to stun and ask Spock to beam it up?’
Daisy slowly sat back down. Stella was right, she should have figured out where this was all going. Damn, damn, damn.
‘What bank?’ Tommy asked as he leant forward on the piano stool.
Stella pinned Daisy with her gaze. ‘That’s where our lovely Daisy comes in. She’s the only one with details of the box. And we know which bank it is, Daisy, don’t we?’ Stella continued smugly. ‘Because a mate of mine followed you to the K&I International Bank in Canary Wharf.’ Daisy knew there was no point denying it, so she nodded.
Stella continued. ‘Now we know the bank all we’ve got to do is plan how to get in there and take it.’
‘Not to mention grabbing all the other gear they’ve left lying around,’ Tommy added.
Stella glared at him. ‘This isn’t a cash job, son, it’s far more important than that. We focus on getting in there and getting the box.’
‘Are you nuts? They’ll have millions in there!’ Tommy gazed at his mum as if she really was on Star Trek’s payroll. ‘You’re expecting me to go in there, get some box just because someone is holding something over your head? Fuck that. You get your box, I’m getting rich.’
‘Sit down and shut up.’ Billy’s voice was hard and furious.
Tommy ignored him. ‘We’re going into a bank and coming out empty-handed? That’s like going into a knocking shop and having a J Arthur. I mean, for fuck’s sake.’
‘I’m the one running this show,’ Stella hissed. Then she looked at everyone in turn. ‘You got that? Me. Stella King. Get that in your heads right now. That includes you, Tommy boy. Even if you spot the bloody crown jewels in there you leave them alone, do you understand?’
Tommy stared at her defiantly for a few more seconds, blowing off steam.
‘Does anyone else want to tread on my tail before I go on?’ Her question was greeted by a nervous silence. ‘We’ve got to find out as much as we can about the bank. What time it opens; what time it shuts; how many people work there; what security systems it has; how many security guards there are; who’s the head honcho.’
‘Why don’t we just go in, tooled up with masks, frighten the bastards and take it?’ Tommy’s hands twitched on his thighs as if he was already mob-handed in the bank, issuing threats.
‘You disappoint me, kid, you really do,’ Stella shook her head. ‘Once we know what kind of bank we’re dealing with, then we can decide the best way to do it.’
‘Stella’s right,’ Billy backed her up. ‘We need to figure out the quickest way to get in and out with the least mess.’
Ricky finally spoke. ‘So if we ain’t going to blast our way in, what are we going to do?’
‘First we need to get someone on the inside to find out as much about the bank as they can.’ Stella scanned the faces in the room. ‘Someone who looks like they belong to that world. Respectable. Someone who ain’t gonna lift any eyebrows. Someone like . . .’ She fixed her gaze on Daisy.
Suddenly Tommy swung around to the piano and started playing. ‘Has Anybody Seen My Gal?’ he sang.
‘Someone slam the lid on his fingers, he plays piano the way he plans bank raids.’ his mum growled. Tommy hit a deep note that sent a sound of doom around the room.
‘It can’t be me.’ Daisy’s head moved rapidly from side-to-side. ‘I’ve already been in so they know what I look like.’
‘Not if you wore a disguise they wouldn’t.’ Stella peered hard at her. ‘You must’ve done that the last time you went into the bank?’ The blush that crept across Daisy’s face was all the answer Stella needed to her question. ‘I want you and Ricky to pretend to be a couple looking to open a safe-deposit account.’
Daisy looked wide-eyed at Ricky. No way did he look remotely respectable. Mind you if she shot off her mouth about it she might be stuck with Tommy. She kept her thoughts to herself.
Stella shoved a mobile phone at Daisy across the desk. ‘Get the bank on the blower and make an appointment to see the manager today.’
‘I don’t have the number . . .’ Daisy stopped, remembering her own phone. She pulled it out. Touched the Internet icon.
‘What is she fucking doing?’ Tommy yelled.
Daisy answered him, but kept her gaze squarely on the phone. ‘Finding the bank’s details and telephone number . . . Here we go.’ She took a deep breath. Got up and pulled the other mobile off the table. Looked at the number on her own phone’s screen as she tapped the number into the other mobile. ‘Hello. My name’s . . .’ She hadn’t thought of a name. ‘Mrs Michael Saviour-Jones. Good day to you as well.’ She pasted a fake smile to her lips. ‘My husband and I would like to arrange an appointment with the bank manager today because we’re very interested in
possibly opening a variety of accounts, including a safe-deposit account.’ She stopped and listened to the reply. ‘You can’t fit me in today? Don’t worry, we’ll take our business elsewhere.’ She caught the disbelieving look on Stella’s face. Ignored it. ‘Thanks for your . . . What? You can fit us in. Great.’ She waited. Smiled. ‘Two o’clock it is. Thank you so much for your time.’
‘You were taking a bit of a chance,’ Stella said as Daisy handed the phone back to her.
‘Not really. None of the banks these days are in a financial position where they can afford to be turning away business, especially from someone with a double-barrelled name. So what do Ricky and I do next?’
‘Listen carefully, because this is what I want you both to do today . . .’
As Stella carried on talking she threw the mobile at Tommy. He caught it. Dropped it on the floor. And ground it to pieces beneath his heel, destroying the evidence that could link them to the bank.
Chapter Twenty-four
Jerome let out a quiet wolf whistle when he saw the villa in Spain. Maxwell Henley obviously had more money tucked away than you would expect a council leader to make. The villa was huge, put together with large white and tan stones and a typical Spanish tiled roof with impressive palm trees shading it from the sun. Jerome wiped the sweat from his forehead as the sun beat down on him. He approached the door. Knocked. Fiddled with the lapels of his jacket as he waited. No response. He left the front door and moved around the side. Stopped at a black rail fence. Through the bars he could see a well-kept garden and a big swimming pool. In the pool a woman was floating on her back, enjoying the water and the sun at the same time. He pushed the gate and stepped inside.
As he got nearer the pool the woman raised her head. She was a looker, with straight black hair, deep, brown eyes and deeply tanned skin.
‘This is private property,’ she called out. A London voice, which surprised him because he’d assumed she was Spanish. Jerome pulled his shades off. Took a few steps closer. ‘I’m looking for the owner of the house.’
‘You’re looking at her.’
‘So you’re Mrs Maxwell Henley?’
‘Who?’ Abruptly she jumped out of the pool, showing off a great body covered by a very revealing turquoise bikini. Wrapped a large pink towel around herself. She moved towards him. Her hand came up to shade the sun from her eyes.
‘I was told that I could find a Maxwell Henley here.’
She shook her head making wet strands of her hair cling to the side of her face and throat. ‘Never heard of him.’ She didn’t take those deep eyes of hers off him.
‘But I checked the property deeds and they’re registered in the name of Maxwell Henley.’
She pushed her fingers into her wet hair moving it off the side of her face. ‘This is Spain where the paperwork doesn’t always get done properly. But like I said this is my place.’
‘I’m a lawyer from England and it’s imperative that I find him.’
‘Real sorry, mate.’ Her London accent grew stronger. ‘Can’t help you.’
‘But I was told that he lived here,’ he persisted.
Her hand clutched the corner of the towel. ‘Maybe he did, but when we purchased the house we weren’t told who the former owner was.’ She wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were cold despite the heat from the sun. ‘I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
With a huge wave of disappointment he nodded and left. Damn. He knew he didn’t have a hope in hell’s chance of winning this class-action abuse case if he didn’t track Maxwell Henley down.
The woman watched from the gate as the lawyer from England got into his hire car. As soon as the car drove off she rushed into the house. The Moroccan-styled blue and red floor tiles were cool and slippery against her wet feet as she made her way into the office at the far end of the hallway. Once inside the room she headed for the phone. Hand trembling, she picked it up. Made her call.
‘What the heck’s going on? Someone from England has just been here asking about Maxwell.’
Tommy was back to being fucked off with his mum again. As he walked towards his club, he thought of the meeting he’d left half an hour ago. Who did she think she was, mouthing off at him like that in front of the others like he was some skivvy? Telling him what he could and couldn’t do? Whoever heard of doing a blag and not taking the bankroll?
‘Need a ride?’
He turned sharply at the voice that had interrupted his furious thoughts. Jo-Jo. Sitting behind the wheel of her car, soft-top down, wearing a pair of Jackie O shades even though the sun had disappeared hours ago. She eased the car to a halt. Leant over and opened the passenger door. Why not? he told himself. He hopped in.
She revved the engine and said, ‘Why do I get the impression my brother’s not a happy bunny today?’
Instead of answering he pulled out a square silver compact. Flipped the lid up. On one side was a small mirror and on the other a rolled up note. He pulled a stash of coke from his top pocket. Shook some onto the mirror. Cut it. Picked up the note and was soon in junkie heaven.
‘Wanna cut?’ he offered.
‘I’ve told you I’m over that. So what’s the matter?’
He pinched his nostrils and laid his head back on the headrest. ‘I’ve gotta keep this . . .’ he pointed to his mouth, ‘ . . . zipped.’
She took a smooth turn as her words became softer. ‘Come on, you can tell me anything. We’ve been holding each other’s secrets since I was eight, yeah?’
Eight years old. He knew what she was talking about and didn’t want his thoughts going back to the days of the babysitter. And why the fuck shouldn’t he tell her? His mum didn’t own him.
‘Mum’s planning a job’
‘Yeah?’ His sister kept her voice light, her eyes on the road.
‘A bank job.’
‘Thought that was the type of stuff Dad used to do, not Mum.’
‘Well she’s changed her MO because she needs to get her mitts on something stashed in a deposit box.’
She gave him a quick sideways look. ‘Always nice to have a bit more poke in your pocket.’
He sat up, shoulders rigid. ‘See, that’s what got me all over mad. We ain’t allowed to touch the money.’
‘Are you for real?’
Seeing he now had an ally he quickly took her through the events at the meeting. Jo-Jo stiffened when she heard Daisy’s name. Her hands tightened around the wheel. So Mum could ask her new daughter to join the club but not her? Out with the old and in with the new.
‘What you gonna do about it?’
Tommy slumped back in the seat. ‘No one goes against Mum. You know that better than anyone.’
‘You gonna let her get away with talking to you like that?’ He said nothing. ‘Bet she made you look like a grade A pussy.’ Still he didn’t respond. But that didn’t stop her turning the screw some more. ‘A bank’s got money and if you’re gonna hit it you take the money too. Only a fucking fool would leave it behind.’ His erratic breathing filled the car. ‘How much do you reckon that bank’s got down in the vault? It’ll make Brink’s-Mat look like shoplifting.’
She bought the car to a sudden halt. They’d reached his club. Finally she looked at him. ‘You take that money and you’ll finally be out of living in Mum’s shadow. That’s what she’s worried about, Tommy, that you’ll become the top fucking geezer.’
He got out of the car without saying a word.
‘Pull yourself together, you’re shaking like a woman on death row.’
Ricky’s hand touched Daisy’s shoulder as they sat in the car. He was right, she was trembling like her bones were in meltdown. She couldn’t believe that she’d agreed to take part in a bank job. Become a bank robber. A criminal just like her dad. But only she knew why she’d made herself a player and she had no alternative but to play the game to the end.
She pulled herself straight, making Ricky’s hand fall away. Looked him in the eye. ‘I’m fin
e.’
‘Whatever you say, babe.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she snapped.
Ricky looked at her intently as he pushed his head to the side. ‘You know what I can’t figure out? What’s made a law abiding girl like you go all Bonnie and Clyde?’
‘And what’s a man like you, who’s just got out of E-Wing, doing getting involved with the Kings instead of trying to make something of himself?’
He laughed, short and hard. ‘If you’ve ever walked the streets of London, babe, you’d realise that there ain’t many straight routes. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but you ain’t telling your new-found mummy a straight story.’
‘The story’s simple. I made a promise to Charlie and that’s what I’m going to do.’
‘Yeah, whatever. Sure, you’re Frankie Sullivan’s daughter, but something tells me you broke that tie a long time ago. So why reconnect now after all these years? You’re Daisy Sullivan, up-and-coming lawyer, posh boy on her arm, posh in-laws just around the corner. You know what I think?’ He straightened his head as his eyes bored into her. ‘I think there’s something in that deposit box you desperately want to get your hands on and it’s got nothing to do with Charlie Hopkirk. You’ve already tried to get into that bank once and now Stella’s giving you another opportunity to get your hands on it.’
‘Everyone’s Inspector Morse these days, aren’t they?’
‘I’m right though, ain’t I?’
‘Yes and London’s a tropical paradise.’
His face was dead serious. ‘You sup with the devil and the only after dinner drink you get is pure poison.’
‘You’ve been sitting at their table longer than me and you’re still here.’
Gangster Girl Page 17