Gangster Girl

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  ‘Nice. Let’s keep it that way. Identifying your dearly departed down the morgue when they pull that sheet back can really put a crimp on your day.’

  Miah swallowed once. Opened the door. And was gone.

  Stella watched his progress as she peeped behind the curtain of the front room window. She let the curtain fall back when he was out of view.

  ‘You trust him?’ Billy asked as he came to stand behind her.

  Stella raised an eyebrow. ‘This from the man who told me not to trust anyone?’ A tiny smile flickered across Billy’s lips. Without waiting for his response Stella pinned her eyes straight onto Miah’s terrified wife.

  ‘I think it’s time for a nice family photo,’ Stella said with forced sweetness. ‘I want you to get over there and sit down with your kids. You in the middle.’

  The other woman quickly followed Stella’s orders, scrambling out of the chair and rushing towards her kids who were huddled together on the sofa. A tense Tommy, gun in hand, stood behind them. Mrs Miah smiled reassuringly at her children as she eased down between them.

  ‘I want you to put your arms around them.’ Mrs Miah pulled the children into her side, her face flicking up at Stella most probably wondering what hideous punishment Stella had in store for her now. Stella pulled out her throw-away mobile phone.

  ‘You,’ she called to Tommy. ‘I want you to pretend that you’re playing the lead in The Long Good Friday.’ He instinctively knew exactly what his mum wanted. He raised his shotgun up and pointed it at the family on the sofa.

  ‘You can’t . . .’ Daisy belted out.

  ‘Shut up,’ Stella snapped back as she raised her mobile. She turned the phone sideways as her finger found the camera icon. Positioned it at the family and clicked.

  ‘What’s hubbie’s number?’ Mrs Miah quickly shot out the digits across the room.

  Stella tapped in the number and sent the photo.

  Stella moved towards Billy and whispered, ‘I bet Miah’s almost shitting himself in the street now when he looks at that photo. He ain’t going to bleat to the cops, no way. He loves his family too much. Giving your family that much power is a dangerous thing.’ She looked at Billy with a faraway look in her eye as if she were remembering a time in her life when family had been important. ‘We want this house to look as normal as possible. This is the kind of street where if the neighbours see the curtains all drawn they’ll think something’s up. We need to get them upstairs. You,’ she pointed at Daisy. ‘Open the curtains. Do it quick so that no one can see you.’

  Stella turned to Miah’s wife. ‘You got any plans we need to know about today?’

  She shook her head, arms around her children. ‘And what about the kids’ school?’

  ‘They won’t ring up, not on the first day of an absence.’

  Tommy levelled his gun at the woman and children. They stood up. He waved the gun towards the door. They quickly followed his instructions. As he reached the doorway handle they heard a key turn in the front door. The front door opened.

  Tommy dragged the woman backwards. Kicked the door shut. Slammed the barrel into her face. The front door shut.

  ‘Who the fuck has got another key to the house?’

  The woman’s eyes bulged wide as the barrel of the gun became the only thing she was in her life. Her mouth flapped open, but no words came out.

  ‘It might be the husband coming back,’ Ricky whispered.

  ‘No that ain’t him,’ Stella shook her head. ‘The footsteps are too light. Is it one of your neighbours?’

  Whoever it was burst into song, filling the house with their rendition of one of the latest tunes heading up the pop charts. Female voice, crap singer.

  ‘Maria.’ They all looked at the little girl.

  The woman covered her mouth as she breathed in hard. Her hand dropped away. ‘It’s our cleaner. I forgot all about her.’

  ‘Give her the day off you bitch.’ Tommy pushed her against the wall. Squeezed his fingers around the corner of her lips, twisting her mouth into a grotesque shape. ‘Fucking. Get. Rid. Of. Her.’

  The cleaner jumped when she saw the lady of the house. The cleaner was small, with short dark hair and clothes that suggested she was a dedicated follower of Primark.

  ‘Mrs Miah, you give me a fright,’ she said, her voice accented with what sounded like Spanish. ‘No work today?’

  ‘No.’ Mrs Miah’s hand clutched nervously at her blouse so that the other woman couldn’t see the rip in it. ‘In fact I’m not feeling well and wondered if you would mind not doing the cleaning today.’

  The cleaner peered closely at Mrs Miah’s pale face, then at the hand held tightly against her chest. ‘Mrs Miah, you OK?’

  ‘No. No I’m not.’ Stella tensed behind the sitting room door. ‘Like I said I’m not well and just want some peace and quiet. Look . . .’ With her free hand she grabbed her purse that was lying on the side table near the telephone. Opened it and took something out. She shoved it into the hand of the younger woman. ‘Here’s your money for today.’ She grabbed the cleaner’s coat and pushed it at her. ‘Now, I really must ask you to leave.’

  She hustled the woman towards the door. As she frantically opened the door the woman halted. ‘If you have flu I look after you. Ginger tea and lots of water. I make you better.’

  The tears sprang to Mrs Miah’s eyes. ‘I wish that was all it took to make it better. Thank you, but I’m really feeling dizzy and need to lie down.’

  Finally the cleaner nodded and smiled. Then turned and was gone. Stella rushed towards the front room window. Peered at the cleaner’s retreating figure as it disappeared down the street. When she turned back around Mrs Miah was once again inside the room.

  ‘I asked you if you had any arrangements going on today . . .’ Stella’s voice was quiet, with an edge to it that spelt bad news for the bank manager’s wife.

  ‘I forgot.’

  ‘Anything else we need to know about?’

  The woman shook her head. Stella steamed towards her and slapped her backhanded across the face. The woman cried out as she rocked backwards. Her children started sobbing.

  Stella looked at her with no pity. ‘Then explain to me what the cleaner meant when she said you have a job?’

  ‘Leave my mommy alone,’ the boy screamed. His little chest puffed high in anger and frustration.

  Stella caught the look on Tommy’s face and knew what he was remembering. The times when he’d been a young lad and yelling at a few of the punters who she took back to her place and decided to use her as a punch bag. Back then Tommy had been her knight in shining armour. Ready to do anything to protect his mum. Where had that little boy gone?

  Tommy moved, bringing Stella back to the present. He touched the boy on the shoulder with a gentleness that Stella hadn’t seen him display in years. ‘Let’s get the kids upstairs,’ he told Billy and Ricky.

  But before anyone could move Stella turned to Billy. Pulled him aside and whispered, ‘Don’t forget as soon as five o’clock strikes make sure the wife and kids are tied up securely upstairs. Then get yourself in the motor in position near the bank. And every half hour, on the dot, keep sending Miah pictures of his loved ones as a reminder not to do anything stupid.’

  Billy’s expression became grim. ‘Still think it’s risky me just leaving them. What if the wife manages to get away? I should stay here until you send me word that the deed’s done.’

  ‘Lock them in a cupboard as well or something. Just make her know that if she tries anything her hubbie is fucked.’

  And with that Billy nodded to Tommy and Ricky. They bundled the children out of the room leaving Daisy and Stella alone with Mrs Miah.

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘I’m on leave, so there was no need to mention it.’

  Stella ran her gaze over her face looking for a lie. Finally she said, ‘Upstairs.’

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  ‘Your old man would be proud of you.’


  Daisy shivered at her mum’s words as Stella drove them away from the Miahs’ house with Tommy beside his mum. Ricky sat wedged between her and a silent Jo-Jo in the back in the other car that Jo-Jo had sat in while they were in the house. Billy had been left back at the house with the family.

  Daisy looked at Stella not sure if she was expecting an answer. Suddenly the anger rose up in Daisy. ‘No he wouldn’t. He did everything he could to keep me away from this kind of world.’ The spite rose inside her. ‘You know what he would say to me every time I asked him about my mum – “Believe me Daisy you wouldn’t want to know about her.”’

  Instead of looking offended Stella started to laugh. ‘He got that right. Self-centred. Carving her way to the top. Treading on anything that got in her way. Yeah, he got that right Daisy, you wouldn’t wanna know about your mum.’

  ‘At least you admit the kind of person you are.’

  Stella said nothing. Instead she gazed at Daisy in the mirror with a mixture of what Daisy was sure looked like regret.

  Daisy knew she shouldn’t say what was on her mind, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘What happened in July 1990?’

  Stella’s hands faltered on the steering wheel. The car did a mad swerve in the middle of the road.

  ‘What did you say?’ Stella ground out once the car was back under control.

  ‘She didn’t say nothin’, did you, Daisy?’ Ricky punched in.

  ‘I asked you a question.’ Stella stormed bringing the car to a mad wheel screeching halt.

  ‘And I am not giving you an answer.’

  Stella twisted around to face Daisy. She screwed up her lips as she raised her hand and swung it in an arc towards her daughter. Daisy grabbed it and held on tight. Stella tried to move her hand, but Daisy increased the pressure. Stella winced.

  Through gritted teeth Daisy said, ‘You wouldn’t believe the things that Frankie Sullivan taught me.’ She held onto the older woman’s hand for a few more seconds. Then let go.

  Stella rubbed her hand as she looked at Daisy. ‘Whatever you think you know, Daisy, believe me you want to forget it.’

  And with that she turned back around, ignited the engine and kept her face straight and concentrated on the road. Daisy caught Ricky’s eyes glaring at her. His expression said one thing – you stupid fool.

  Suddenly Stella’s words filled the car. ‘Don’t forget the plan after we leave the bank. The rest of you head to Billy’s car and I head for the one with Jo-Jo in it. Got that Jo-Jo?’

  Her youngest daughter spoke for the first time. ‘Sure. Me and you are going to do alright together, Mum.’

  ‘They’re still in the knocking shop,’ Johnson reported on the mobile.

  He sat in his motor across the street from Stella’s main brothel. He’d observed Stella and her crew come back a good five hours ago, minus her thug Billy.

  ‘What do you think they’re doing?’ the voice on the other end of the line asked.

  ‘Can’t be sure but I reckon . . .’ His voice stopped. He peered hard out of the window. ‘Here we go, they’re on the move again.’

  ‘You know what to do?’

  ‘Sure. We’ve got our little surprise all ready for our old friend Mrs King.’

  4.45 p.m.

  They entered the bank dead on schedule. This time they were suited and booted in sharp, black trouser suits, sunglasses and black, peak-edged caps that concealed their faces and that they hoped made them look like dead ringers from the bank’s private security firm. Stella took the lead, a black holdall bag in her hand as they walked past the security guard. Daisy was sandwiched between Ricky and Tommy. Both men had a hand close to their jacket pocket. Close to their guns. Stella moved with an ease and confidence that Daisy didn’t feel. Instead she walked with a tension so electric she thought she might burst into flames at any moment. Cool it girl. Take a breath.

  She pulled a short, sharp shot of air inside. They reached the reception desk. A young woman with the peachiness and enthusiasm of a fresh-faced sixth former looked up at them. She gave them a smile and launched into the ‘welcome to the bank’ patter. As agreed Stella did all the talking. She leant on the desk as if she came here every day. Shifted her head to the side and flashed a cool as cucumber grin.

  ‘We’re from the private security firm and have got a four-forty-five appointment with Mr Miah.’

  The receptionist dipped her head as she scanned the appointment book in front of her. Her head flipped back up. This time there was no smile on her face. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t see any appointment.’

  Daisy tensed behind Stella. She quickly caught Ricky’s eyes. Tommy shoved his hand inside his jacket, near the waistband of his trousers.

  ‘You must be mistaken.’ Stella’s voice was calm and confident. ‘Mr Miah knows that we’re scheduled to do a full points check on the alarm system today.’

  The woman checked the book again. Her head came back up. ‘There’s nothing here. Are you sure it was for today?’

  Daisy saw Tommy’s arm start to twitch.

  The receptionist waved her hands in a flustered motion. ‘Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll make some enquiries.’

  They moved towards the group of chairs near the window with rivers of rain seeping down it.

  ‘This is a set up,’ Tommy growled. ‘Billy was right, he must’ve been using code with the police this morning—’

  ‘Cool it . . .’ Stella threw back.

  ‘We’re sitting here as hot as a lad facing his first fuck and you want me to cool it—’

  His words abruptly stopped as they watched the receptionist beckon an older man to her desk. At the same time the security guard by the door moved deeper into the reception hall. The receptionist pointed a finger at them. A police siren screamed from somewhere outside.

  Tommy shot to his feet. ‘I ain’t being taken down without a fight.’

  Before anyone could stop him he briskly moved towards the reception desk as his hand shoved inside his waistband.

  ‘Shit,’ Stella said. But she remained in her seat.

  Tommy reached the desk. The man and woman looked up at him. His hand started coming out of his pocket.

  ‘Gillian?’

  They all turned to see Mr Miah emerging from the corner where the lift was placed.

  ‘Oh, Mr Miah,’ the receptionist called back. ‘I’m so glad to see you. The people from the security company are here, but I couldn’t . . .’

  ‘That’s fine.’ He reached the desk the same time Tommy’s hand eased back. ‘I will take it from here.’

  As soon as the door to Miah’s office closed Tommy slugged him one in the stomach. Miah toppled over onto his desk, his arm flinging the framed photo of his family on the floor. Tommy jacked his forearm and elbow under his throat.

  ‘What the fuck was that all about downstairs?’ Stella demanded.

  ‘You told me to tell my PA about your appointment. You didn’t say anything about the receptionist!’ Miah croaked.

  Tommy jammed his arm deeper into the man’s windpipe. Desperate choking noises erupted from Miah’s throat.

  ‘I don’t fucking believe him,’ Tommy spat into the man’s face.

  ‘Pack it in. We need to get ready.’ Stella’s command was soft, but loaded with a tone that said you better follow my instructions or else.

  Tommy twisted his mouth to an ugly angle. He removed his arm from Miah’s throat. Hauled him to his feet. Marched him to the wall. Grabbed the back of his head and twisted his face to the wall.

  ‘Stay put. And I haven’t finished with you yet.’

  While he remained immobile against the wall, Stella reached into the holdall bag and threw the items inside at everyone. They quickly undressed and in less than five minutes were back in the clothes they wore earlier when they took Miah’s family hostage. Stella, balaclava in place, moved towards Miah. Grabbed the back of his head and twisted him around.

  ‘And just to remind you which page you’re on, you might wanna see
this.’

  Stella held her mobile up. When he saw the screen he covered his mouth with his hand and trembled. A grim photo stared back of his wife and kids bound and gagged inside his bedroom. He lifted his head sharply to look at Stella.

  ‘Believe me, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. I wouldn’t do anything that might hurt my family.’

  ‘You keep that family photo in mind every time you think about playing the hero.’

  He pushed himself off the wall the same time there was a quiet knock at the door. Everyone froze. Looked at the door. Tommy whipped out his gun and pointed it at Miah.

  Stella nodded at Miah. He pushed his hand through his hair, flicking back into place the few strands that were plastered to his forehead with sweat and quickly moved to the door. Tommy’s gun kept pace with his every step. He let out a funny little cough, then pulled the door back slightly. He let out a sharp breath when he saw who it was. His PA.

  ‘Shall I get some coffees and teas?’

  ‘No. The bank’s going to shut soon, so why don’t you get off early.’

  She smiled broadly. ‘Thanks Mr Miah. I’m off to see a musical version of The Godfather . . .’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he replied impatiently. ‘Just go.’ He stopped, realising that his tone was all wrong. He made his tone lighter. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ And without waiting for a response he closed the door in her face.

  He turned back nervously to watch the people in his office.

  ‘Good job,’ Stella said. ‘Now if you keep it like that everything’s gonna be sweet. And before you know it you’ll be wrapped in your family’s loving embrace once again.’ She checked her watch.

  4.56 p.m.

  ‘Does everyone know that they need to be out of the building by five?’ she asked him.

  ‘I sent an email around.’

  ‘And the cameras?’

  ‘All off. I checked myself at four thirty.’

  ‘When everyone’s gone how many security guards will be left?’

  ‘Two. They’ll be posted in the reception hall.’ His tongue came out and wet his lips as if he were too afraid to ask the next thing on his mind. ‘What happens next?’