Gangster Girl

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  Stella and Jo-Jo entered Preston Parking Services in Bethnal Green. It was located under the railway bridge in an area simply known as The Arches. The whiz of the steam cleaning machines from the premises next door sounded harshly in the background. The room was large, with its old Victorian-bricked walls painted over in white. It was decked out as an office, not the type of place you’d expect to find in a stretch of road that was known for its garages. The room contained three desks, with people going through paperwork.

  ‘Mrs King.’ One of the people at the desks stood up.

  Stella nodded at the man who walked towards her. Mickey Preston. He was in his late fifties, with a body that had once been packed tight with muscles, but now was more lean and trim with a bald head he shaved once a month. If you needed a car in a hurry, Mickey was your man. When he reached her he shook her hand and nodded at Jo-Jo.

  Stella got straight down to business. ‘I need two motors. Something low key. Something the cops wouldn’t follow even if it had a black bloke at the wheel.’

  ‘Do they have to be fast?’

  She considered his question. Normally they would, of course, but she wasn’t so sure this time. After the robbery the law would be looking for something a bit nifty, not something an East German wouldn’t be seen dead in. She shook her head at him.

  ‘Let me show you what I’ve got.’ They followed him to the back of the building, where there was a wall to floor sturdy double door. He took out a key and unlocked the padlock. Pushed and opened up into a yard that was filled with cars. Jags, limousines, Morris Minors, you name it Mickey had it and if he didn’t he knew a man who did. Ten years ago he’d expanded his steam-cleaning operation next door to include a wheel clamping service. If someone wanted their towed car back there was an eighty quid a day charge for holding it. But this was the East End and a lot of people didn’t come and collect their cars for one reason or another. ‘I think I’ve got just what you’re after,’ Mickey said as he continued to walk.

  They followed him, weaving through the vehicles, until they came to two Minis. Both black. Stella moved forward checking over the cars. She looked back at Mickey with a lopsided smile. ‘I want the windows changed to something private and then have them delivered to my place in Finsbury Park later today. Put it on my slate, I’m good for it, you know that.’

  Without another word she turned and started walking away. Jo-Jo hurried along beside her. Now all Stella needed to do was organise the final thing she would need for the robbery. Some serious hardware from the firearms department.

  Mickey pulled out his mobile as he watched Mrs King and her daughter disappear into the main building. ‘Alright, mate? I hear you’ve been asking about Stella King . . .’

  Chapter Twenty-six

  As soon as Stella and Jo-Jo emerged outside a black Jag stormed up. It skated to a stop a few inches from them. A man in his thirties, with spiked gelled hair, a silver earring in his left ear and a face like an undertaker got out of the car and shot towards Stella. He was followed closely by a huge man, wearing shades and an expression that could spook the bravest, who stood keeping guard by the car. Stella gazed at the man who swaggered towards her. ‘I want a word with you, missus. Your fucking son is out of control.’

  Calmly she eyed him up. Knew who he was. ‘What do you want Ray-Ray?’ Ray-Ray was the head of the Digby crew, a minor East End outfit who were all mouth but not much trousers, at least that’s how Stella saw it.

  ‘You need to keep that boy of yours under manners.’ Stella wasn’t sure if it was the steam machine she could hear or the steam coming out of the silly sod’s ears. ‘He came into one of my places with one of his goons and shot my younger brother in the leg.’

  Stella made maximum eye contact. ‘I brought my boy up proper, he doesn’t go round shooting people; at least not in the kind of clip joints you run.’

  Ray-Ray screwed up his face and stabbed a finger at her. ‘Tommy’s been chucking his weight around ever since he topped that city director’s dau—’ His words fell away. He took a step back, knowing he’d crossed a line. He’d told the truth in public and that was never a good idea with the likes of Stella. He nervously looked around and caught the eyes of a few mechanics outside one of the garages who were cleaning two black cabs.

  Stella took a menacing step forward. Voice stone cold quiet. ‘If you are ever going to make something of yourself in our line of work, which I doubt, you need to keep an eye on your temper. Because a temper can make you say and do things that are best left unsaid and undone and that can have very unfortunate consequences. Ask around here. People will tell you.’ His jittery gaze shifted to Jo-Jo. ‘I hear you’ve got kids yourself? A boy and a girl, I believe? Of course, no genuine East Ender is going to hurt a kid are they? But that’s only up to a point. You know what I mean?’

  He swallowed. Twisted around and got back in his motor with his thug close behind. Stella watched him drive away with the same speed with which he’d arrived.

  ‘Dad would’ve never let a slag like him talk to him like that,’ Jo-Jo said.

  ‘Don’t worry about Ray-Ray Digby. After the job we’ll remind him who’s got what in their trousers around here.’

  Daisy made the final adjustments to her handbag as she sat with Ricky in the car parked across from the bank.

  ‘Is it sorted?’ Ricky asked looking at her handbag.

  They’d had to think of a way to video inside the bank without anyone noticing. Ricky had come up with the suggestion. Cut a hole the size of her phone in her handbag, and then secure the phone with tape around the hole inside the bag. This would create an ordinary looking shiny black panel that would be found in many handbags and they hoped that most people wouldn’t look twice at it.

  ‘I know this is going to be hard for you to do,’ Ricky started slowly.

  ‘You don’t say,’ she cut in sarcastically. ‘I do this type of thing every day of the week.’

  ‘I don’t mean that.’ She looked at him puzzled. ‘I mean your bracelets.’ His gaze slid to her wrists. ‘You’re going to have to take them off, just like I’ve taken my earring out.’

  Daisy instantly retreated hard into her seat and shook her head.

  Ricky leant towards her. ‘We can’t afford for them to remember anything about us. Nothing distinctive.’

  She knew he was right. But she’d never been in public without her bracelets on, except for the time in the bank yesterday. No one was ever allowed to see her scars. Her secret. Her shame. Without a word Ricky reached for her hand. She didn’t resist him as he first took off one bracelet and then the other. He placed them gently in his pocket as she shivered with vulnerability. She pulled the cuffs of the sleeves of her jacket over her wrists.

  ‘Put the camera on,’ Ricky ordered.

  She did what he asked.

  They got out of the car. Daisy in her black dress, jacket, hair hanging loosely down and face covered in fake tan from a bottle they’d bought in the cosmetics department; Ricky in his new ebony suit and thick-framed designer glasses. The greying clouds above looked as rocky as Daisy felt. She took a deep breath. They crossed the road and made their way up the steps. Halfway there Ricky grabbed her hand.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Daisy’s steps faltered with the feel of Ricky’s flesh against her own.

  ‘We wouldn’t want the bank manager to think we weren’t in love.’

  Daisy tried to remove her hand, but Ricky tightened his grip as he kept moving forward. Resigned, Daisy moved with him. They reached the entrance. Stepped inside.

  Daisy barely remembered the reception area from her first visit, she’d been too wound up to notice. She quickly looked around and sighed with relief when she didn’t see any of the bank employees she’d spoken with yesterday. Even the receptionist was different. They approached the reception desk. The woman behind the desk was about Daisy’s age and had sparkling big black eyes. She beamed at them. ‘Can I help you?’

  Ricky answered in a voice that he
ld no trace of a street-wise London accent. ‘We’ve got an appointment to see Mr Miah. It’s Mr and Mrs Saviour-Jones.’ Ricky turned and looped his arm around Daisy’s waist. He drew her close as he gave her a gooey we’re-in-love smile. ‘We’ve actually just got back from our honeymoon.’

  The woman let out an ‘ah’ then reached for the phone. As she talked Daisy drew Ricky slightly aside and sharply whispered, ‘Don’t overdo the loved-up routine.’

  Daisy let out a gasp as Ricky pulled her sharply into him. What he did next nearly blew the stockings off her feet. He lowered his lips and kissed her. Her first instinct was to resist. But she couldn’t do that because that would wreck their plan straight away. So she took the kiss as she silently thought of all the ways she could get even with him later for taking such a liberty. But her thoughts of retribution died away as the movement of his lips spread warmth through her whole body. A feeling she’d never experienced with Jerome.

  Abruptly Ricky raised his head and hooked his arm around her body so that her side was tucked into his. He eased the side of her head into his shoulder and whispered, ‘There are two cameras, one on the right and one straight up ahead. We’ve gotta make sure no camera gets a good look at us. We kiss, we cuddle, keep our heads down and play with our hair so our hands mask our face. Got it?

  He started kissing her again, this time spinning her around. Suddenly she understood what he was trying to do, get all-round footage of the reception area on the camera. ‘Excuse me.’ The receptionist’s voice made them twist around. They let go of each other. ‘Mr Miah’s PA will be down shortly. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?’

  Daisy played with her hair, masking half her face while she shook her head. The heat rose in her cheeks as she thought about the bank’s cameras watching her.

  A few minutes later a smartly suited young woman took them in the lift upstairs. They got out on the top floor. Daisy kept her head down as they moved along a brightly painted white corridor. She noticed that Ricky kept flicking his head up and she realised that he was counting how many security cameras he could see. Two mounted high in separate corners at the end of the corridor. The woman ahead of them opened a door that led into a large carpeted area with a desk and soft sofa to one side. She approached another door. Opened it. A small and slight Asian man, reaching the end of his forties, with thinning black hair and a take-life-easy face that could tempt the Devil himself to get into savings and pensions, stood up behind the desk

  ‘Mr Miah, Mr and Mrs Saviour-Jones are here for their appointment.’

  Daisy took a huge breath as she stepped inside.

  Mr Miah was a typical bank manager – he got down to business straight away. ‘Will you be considering a sizable investment?’ He almost rubbed his hands together with glee.

  Ricky answered. ‘It will be very sizable indeed. My father recently passed on, leaving me a substantial sum. My accountant wanted to handle negotiations with the banks but I’m a hands-on guy and I wanted to visit any potential investment houses myself. You can tell a lot from the reception you get. Take you, for example,’ Ricky smiled, piling on the charm. ‘I can see you’re a solid and reliable type, not the sort of chap who treats his clients’ money like chips on a roulette table.’

  Mr Miah puffed out his chest at the compliment. ‘Let me take you through some of our investment portfolios . . .’

  For the next fifteen minutes his words swam around Daisy. As the minutes ticked by she became increasingly tense. She’d put her handbag, with the mobile phone camera on the desk closely facing a framed photo of a smiling woman and two, beaming small children.

  ‘Do any of those options appeal to you?’ Mr Miah’s voice drew Daisy to look at his face.

  ‘They sound very attractive,’ Ricky replied, smiling. ‘Why don’t you give us some material to take away and we’ll get back to you.’

  Mr Miah smiled liked the cat that got the cream as he replied, ‘Of course.’

  Ricky shuffled closer in his chair as if he were about to tell a secret. ‘My father also left me some family heirlooms, jewellery and other valuable pieces that I don’t want to leave inside the house. Thanks to our hug-a-thug government London has criminals everywhere these days.’

  ‘We can take care of that for you as well. We have a safe-deposit box facility that can be yours for a very reasonable fee.’

  ‘These pieces have been in my family for a very long time, so I’m sure you can understand my anxiety about making sure they are housed under the tightest security.’

  Miah nodded his head. ‘Our facility is second to none. Why don’t I give you a quick tour downstairs and you can go away and consider your options?’

  Now Ricky smiled too, it seemed there was cream for everyone, ‘Excellent idea.’

  They all stood up. Ricky put his arm around Daisy’s waist. As the bank manager made his way around the desk a knock sounded at the door. The door opened revealing Mr Miah’s PA.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt but it’s the police.’

  Ricky and Daisy stopped as if glued to the floor. Rick’s fingers bit into Daisy’s waist. She was glad of his arm holding her because she knew if it wasn’t she’d have collapsed onto the floor. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening, her mind screamed. An image of herself being hauled off in handcuffs blasted through her mind. Another of Randal Curtis standing by her side while the judge screamed guilty of attempted robbery. She’d be lucky to see the light of day after ten years. Her legs wobbled.

  ‘Keep calm and leave it to me,’ Ricky whispered as he pressed a light kiss below her ear.

  ‘I’m sorry about this,’ Mr Miah said as he looked at them apologetically. He shuffled past his PA and stepped outside, leaving the door partially open. Daisy saw a plain-clothes man and woman waiting by the PA’s desk.

  ‘They must be here on other business so just stay calm,’ Ricky said as they both watched the manager talk to the police.

  Calm? Calm? Had Ricky lost whatever marbles he had left? There they were, checking out the bank, with the cops a few feet away and he wanted her to stay calm.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ she hissed

  ‘No, we haven’t. Just stay cool . . .’ His words stopped as Mr Miah and the police suddenly looked their way. ‘Shit,’ Ricky muttered under his breath.

  Mr Miah started to walk back towards them, with the police following behind. Daisy started to shake as they got closer. Ricky’s arms tightened around her. The trio were almost inside the doorway. Daisy’s head swung wildly towards the window as she wondered what would happen to her body if she leapt from three storeys up. The police stopped just inside the door. Mr Miah kept moving. He reached Daisy and Ricky. Looked at them. Passed them as he made his way to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out some papers. Ricky smiled at the police while Daisy avoided their eyes. Mr Miah strode past them as he approached the police. He left the room with them.

  ‘Told you it would be alright. Stay by my side, girl, and you’ll be fine.’

  ‘I’m going to be sick,’ Daisy groaned.

  ‘You ain’t got time for chucking up cos we ain’t finished what we came here to do.’

  A few seconds later Miah returned. Alone.

  ‘Sorry about that. We had a false alarm yesterday and the police were just checking that everything’s still alright .’ He smiled at Ricky. ‘And that’s why your investments will be safe with us. We have an alarm system that’s connected to both the local police station and our own private security firm.’

  Miah was proud of his advert and clasped his hands together. ‘Right, shall we go to the most secure part of the building, where we keep the safe-deposit boxes?’

  Both Daisy and Ricky kept a tally of the number of security guards they came across as they made their way downstairs. One by the main door. Another by the reception. Another was posted at the top of the steps that lead downstairs. Three. He gave Mr Miah a short nod as they walked past him. They reached the ground floor. She kept
her handbag low so that the security guards they passed wouldn’t notice it. Just like yesterday there was a guard posted at a door at the end. Daisy pressed the camera off. The guard caught her hand movement. Gazed into her face. She pulled out a stick of lipstick. He looked away.

  ‘Mr Miah,’ the guard said stepping aside.

  Mr Miah shoved a smaller key in the lock. Turned. Opened the door. They moved inside.

  ‘As you can see,’ the bank manager started proudly. ‘Our security system is pretty tight. No one can get in here without the keys and if they did they’d have to get past our security guards. You won’t find this level of security at other banks.’

  ‘Very impressive,’ Ricky agreed.

  ‘Now this is the room,’ Miah waved his hands around, ‘where customers can comfortably check their boxes. As you will see there are no cameras to allow our customers total privacy.’ He moved towards the door. ‘And here is the vault where we store the deposit boxes.’

  Ricky moved forward but Miah’s next words stopped him. ‘I’m sorry, but for security purposes only bank employees are allowed inside.’

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Ricky held Daisy’s head as she threw up near the car. She’d never thrown up so much in life like she had since her mum had re-entered her life. Tears stained her face as the waves of sick rolled out of her. As soon as they’d left the bank the tension inside her had shot up and she knew she was not going to be able to hold it back. Shaking, she pulled in huge gulps of cold air as the sickness finally stopped.

  ‘You OK?’

  Daisy eased up but was too embarrassed to look Ricky in the eye. Instead she folded her arms over her chest and kept her head low. Finally she gazed up at Ricky and nodded.

  ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she flung back at him passionately. ‘I can’t . . .’ She shook her head realising she must not tell him the truth. ‘I don’t have a choice.’ Her last words were flat.