Gangster Girl

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  ‘Where are we?’ Ricky croaked, voice husky and low. He stood next to Daisy, rubbing his chest, then his bleeding arm

  She knew exactly where they were. Knew why the ground beneath her had rocked. They were inside the main cabin of Misty’s pride and joy, her longboat, Miss Josephine. The room was comfy and cosy, with a certain gleam that spoke of being taken care of with loving hands and furniture that some might say should have seen the junkyard years ago but that Misty insisted were full of rich memories. The last Daisy had heard Misty had moored it on the Regent’s Canal next to Victoria Park, which stood between the boroughs of Tower Hamlets and Hackney in East London. So she assumed that’s where they were now.

  Jackie stepped forward, her finger stabbing in the air towards Ricky. ‘Keep it zipped, sonny.’ Her voice yelled a don’t-muck-around with me tone.

  But instead of shutting his mouth he spoke. ‘Why didn’t you just say who you were instead of shoving us in the boot of some car?’

  ‘Not that I owe you an explanation,’ Jackie snapped back. ‘But we needed to make sure you and Daisy did what you were told. We didn’t have time for any arguments.’

  ‘Daisy.’ She turned to find her aunt Roxy moving towards her with a cloth dipped in water. ‘Clean your face.’ Daisy took the cloth and pressed it to her cut cheek. She winced.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Jackie asked with the concern of a mother.

  ‘It’s just a cut. Nothing too deep. We need to take care of Ricky.’ Her gaze ran over his injured arm. ‘He’s been shot . . .’

  ‘I’m alright,’ Ricky said, but his laboured breathing told another story. ‘The bullet went straight through.’

  Jackie made a scoffing sound. ‘He should be thankful someone got there before me and only blasted him in his arm, because if I had a gun pointed at him now the way I’m feeling I’d be tempted to take his bloody head off.’ Jackie dismissed Ricky and stabbed her finger back at Daisy. ‘Didn’t I tell you that if there was any bovver while I was away all you had to do was pick up the blower and let Misty know?’ Daisy quickly opened her mouth, but Jackie kept up her rapid-fire words.

  ‘There I am, lying in my bikini with a Sex On The Beach in my hand when Misty lets me know that you’re acting all strange like. Well, as soon as Misty mentioned the name of that she-devil Stella King, me and the girls were back here sooner than you could say the words bank robbery.’

  Her last two words hung in the air with the impact of a nasty smell there was no way of escaping. Daisy winced. What was the point in trying to pull the wool over Jackie’s eyes? If there was one person who could smell a rat it was the raging woman in front of her. ‘How did you find out?’

  Now it was Misty’s turn to step forward. For the first time in her life Daisy really saw her as a man. ‘I might not be the brain of Britain, young lady, but I don’t keep it in my trousers either like a lot of men do.’ She jammed her hands onto her hips. ‘When I caught you in my club I knew something was up.’ Daisy’s eyes darted guiltily away as a snap shot image of herself kitted out in Misty’s blond wig at the bank flashed through her mind. Her gaze flicked back up as the other woman continued to speak. ‘I almost called Jackie there and then, but no, I told myself.’ Her head shook. ‘If there was a problem Daisy would come to me, now wouldn’t she? Then I meet you with naughty boy, over there.’ She nodded, face twisted in disgust at Ricky. ‘Out shopping with your lawyer – my cross-dressing arse. And the way you mentioned Stella King’s name I knew something was up.’

  ‘That’s when Misty called us,’ Ollie joined in, her black face calm. Nothing ever seemed to faze her, it was as if she’d seen it all before.

  ‘First thing I did,’ Misty picked up her words, ‘was get on the blower to my mate Mickey. If there’s anyone who knows what’s happening in this town it’s him. Told him to keep his ears pinned back if he hears anything to do with Stella King. Then I took a trip to your flat, back to being Michael for a night so no one twigged who I was. Lights on, no one at home, as they say, love. And when I found those tissues with the blood on my heart popped straight outta my chest.’ Misty’s voice went up a notch. ‘Thought something bloody bad had happened to you.’ Daisy rubbed her lips together, her guilt growing deeper. ‘Then Mickey calls me up and says that Stella has just ordered a couple of motors from him. ’Course she never told him what they were for but Mickey’s been in the biz too long not to spot a job when it’s coming. Didn’t take him long to find out what the job was. And where it was. Tommy’s hired guns are known for their loose lips, if not for their brains. If you were mixed up with Stella King there was only one place you could be.’ Misty folded her arms across her chest. ‘Deadwood Hotel. Otherwise known as Stella King’s number one knocking shop and HQ.’

  Anna stepped forward, her long, black hair swishing beside her amber-coloured face. ‘At first we kept telling ourselves no way would you be involved. Not our little Daisy. But we couldn’t take that chance . . .’

  ‘Why didn’t you just come and get her at the brothel?’ Ricky stormed.

  ‘I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you, you’re in a spot of bovver,’ Jackie screamed, moving furiously forward. Misty grabbed her arm and held her back.

  ‘What?’ Anna scoffed. ‘And face Stella’s firepower in her own den? No way. We decided to go to The Island and sit it out near the bank. And when we saw you running out of the bank, girl . . .’ Anna’s words stopped as if she were reliving a horror story. ‘We had our set up in place. Two cars and me on a bike. First chance we got we were gonna nab you. Then lover boy there,’ she glanced at Ricky, ‘got in on the act.’

  ‘And when that car went sky-high,’ Roxy joined in, her white face getting paler by the second, ‘we thought you were a goner.’

  ‘Don’t you get it?’ Jackie jumped in, her voice soft. ‘I thought I was going to lose you. Just like I nearly did that first night you came to stay with me.’

  All of a sudden the tension became too much for Daisy. Tears bubbled in her eyes as she rubbed her right hand against her left bracelet. Awful, sorrowful noises shot from her lips. Her head bent down with the force of the weight of what her life had become. Jackie’s safe arms pulled her into a tight embrace.

  ‘You’ll always be my girl,’ Jackie whispered. ‘Always.’

  Daisy clung tight, soaking up the warmth of the smaller woman. They stayed like that for a while, with only the sounds of the lapping water outside to be heard. Finally Jackie pulled away. Used the pads of her thumb to wipe the tears from Daisy’s cheeks. ‘I think it’s time you told us exactly how you got hooked up with Stella King.’

  ‘She didn’t have much choice,’ Ricky threw in. The woman all shot him a collective look that screamed, ‘Stay down, boy.’

  ‘Ricky’s right. I had to do it,’ Daisy confirmed.

  ‘She got something over you?’ Misty asked.

  Daisy’s mouth twisted. ‘You could say that.’ She pulled in a deep breath. Her voice was small. ‘She’s my mother.’

  Her mum was dead. But Jo-Jo desperately tried to contact her mum for the umpteenth time on her mobile regardless. She paced, backward, forward, inside Stella’s office on the top floor of the brothel. No lights were on, leaving the room shrouded in a thick, unsettled darkness. Jo-Jo let out a small cry as the call went to voicemail as it had done before.

  ‘Mum, it’s me. Jo-Jo. Please give me a bell. Please . . . just call me.’ She hurled the mobile across the room. She didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Her mum, Stella King, the one person she loved with a total devotion was . . .

  No, she wouldn’t believe it. Maybe she was wrong. She checked the time on the clock next to the Calamity Jane poster. 7 p.m. She rushed towards the telly. Popped it on. The local news was already on and what she saw made her hug her arms tight around herself. The film on the screen showed the devastated wreck of a car, still smoking and belching twisted flames. The police thought it was terrorism to start with but it didn’t take them long to discover the bodi
es in the vault. The image changed to show a male reporter standing on the other side of the road to the K&I Bank.

  ‘Unconfirmed reports say that the body of known criminal Tommy King and the bodies of two other men were discovered in the vault of K&I Bank. They are believed to have been shot. The bank manager and his family, who are believed to have been taken hostage in their home, are being treated for shock. The car that exploded on the street outside the bank is believed to have been connected to the robbery as witnesses report seeing two people running from the bank towards the car. Police sources are believed to be speculating that they may have been known criminal figures Billy Doyle and Stella King. Three people were reported to have also been seen running away from the scene. Forensic examination of the scene of the explosion will continue into the night . . .’

  Sobbing Jo-Jo stepped back from the telly. Whoever had reported seeing three people running away was dead wrong because her mum hadn’t come to the getaway car she waited desperately in as planned. Wasn’t answering her phone. She collapsed, crying like a newborn babe, in her mum’s chair at the desk. She shook her head repeatedly, but she knew it was true.

  Stella King was dead.

  Jo-Jo covered her mouth with both hands, rocking forward and back, almost tipping the chair over. Hadn’t she witnessed her mum’s death with her own eyes? She’d waited in the second getaway car, waited for her mum to come. That was the plan and there shouldn’t have been any mistakes, her mum didn’t make mistakes. Her mum was meant to join her in the car after the job. So she’d waited and waited, smoking a half pack of ciggies. Then she’d heard the bang, waited for her mum and when she hadn’t appeared knew that something was wrong. She’d pushed her foot to the pedal and driven at high speed towards the location of the other getaway car. As she neared her destination, she’d killed the speed and cruised along like any other car, just in case the cops were nearby. Her whole life had nearly stopped when she saw the blazing car. No one had to tell her that the reason Stella hadn’t appeared was because she’d got into the first getaway car. Then she’d seen them, not far from the car. Daisy and Ricky running away. They were alive while her mum was dead.

  Jo-Jo sobbed harder as the pain of her loss threatened to cripple her. There was only one way she knew how to deal with pain. She straightened. Reached for her handbag, which she’d flung carelessly on her mum’s desk. Opened it. Rummaged madly inside, but couldn’t find her razor. The movement of her hands became frantic, but still no razor. She needed release from her pain now or she would go crazy. She shoved her bag away. Held out her arm. Lowered her face. Sank her teeth into her flesh. Broke the skin. Tasted blood. She hadn’t touched her arms in years, always careful to cut into places no one else would see.

  She leant back, hoping that the pain would leave her on every long breath she took. But it didn’t. The grief and pain got worse.

  The tears bubbled back into her eyes. The grief tightened its grip on her gut. Just one more cut might sort her out. Make it all go away. As she raised the arm high again and lowered her head she heard a huge crashing sound from downstairs. She knew who it was. They’d finally come. But they wouldn’t find anything to do with the bank job, she’d made sure of that. She stood up. Asked herself how her mum would deal with the cops raiding the brothel?

  Shock had every last one of the women pinned to a seat inside the boat. Ricky and Daisy sat opposite them. Suddenly Misty let out a loud sneeze.

  ‘Feckin’ hay fever,’ she said, as her hand hunted in her pocket. She pulled something out. A small vial. ‘Can’t believe I’m still carrying this around with me.’ Daisy looked at the vial and remembered where she’d seen it before. In the club on that morning Misty had caught her in her office. Some drug called Midnight Blue. Misty chucked it on her second-hand table and searched for her hay-fever tabs. But before she could find them Jackie suddenly jumped to her feet. ‘Did you just say that that bloody woman was your mum?’

  Daisy clasped her cold hands together in her lap. ‘Stupid me, right? I built this dream that my mother would be this decent woman who took up with Frankie and then left because she couldn’t cope with that life.’ Her voice was bitter. ‘But my last name’s Sullivan and it seems there’s no way someone with that last name is going to have a parent who walked on the right side of the law.’

  Ricky grabbed one of her hands and held it tight. ‘Don’t blame her,’ he said to Jackie. ‘This ain’t her fault.’

  ‘Hold up a minute, mate,’ Jackie threw back, stabbing her finger at him. ‘This ain’t got nothing to do with you. You ain’t a member of the family, so butt out.’ She looked scornfully at their clasped hands. ‘And I don’t like the way you’re touching my daughter. She’s got a fella. A decent fella and it ain’t you.’

  But Ricky didn’t let go of Daisy’s hand, instead he looked back at Jackie defiantly. ‘She’s been through a lot, so if you want the full SP on what happened I’ll tell you.’

  Jackie took an outraged step towards him, but Misty’s voice stopped her. ‘Alright, get talking?’

  So he told them, his words driving Jackie back into her seat. He finished, his breathing laboured, one of his palms rubbing against his arm.

  ‘Jackie,’ Daisy pleaded. ‘Can we sort out Ricky’s arm?’

  ‘Forget him.’ Finally one of the other women spoke. Anna leant forward in her chair, her brown face showing both tiredness and concern. ‘You need to be worrying about yourself. ’

  ‘No,’ Daisy responded defiantly. ‘I’m not going to forget about him . . . .’

  Suddenly her auntie Roxy’s voice cut in quietly. ‘Why don’t I get some water and stuff to clean his arm up?’ Without waiting for a response she stood up. Daisy sent her a tight smile of thanks.

  ‘Have you thought what you’re going to do when the cops come looking for you?’ Anna asked as Roxy moved towards the kitchen.

  Daisy shook her head. She’d been avoiding that question since the disastrous end of the bank job. Five people dead, with a bank manager who might be able to point the finger at her. If she wasn’t already on the radar it wouldn’t be long before she appeared. She worked in the law, she knew about these things

  As she opened her mouth to answer she heard a deep groan next to her. She twisted her head to find Ricky clutching his chest. The other women bolted out of their seats at the same time Ricky slipped onto the floor unconscious. Roxy rushed back into the room.

  ‘Ricky!’ Daisy yelled, as she crouched down beside him. ‘Why didn’t you let me help him before? I should’ve checked him over before.’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Misty asked as she dropped to her knees beside Daisy.

  Daisy looked her as if she was the stupidest person on earth. ‘He’s got a bullet hole in his arm . . .’

  ‘No, I don’t mean that, I mean his chest. He kept rubbing it.’

  ‘Tommy King shot him in the chest.’ She looked up at Misty with pleading eyes. ‘I thought he was dead.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘Please don’t let him be dead.’

  Misty turned her head and nodded at Jackie. Jackie leant down and pulled Daisy to her feet. Misty turned back to Ricky. She shifted his upper body as she gently eased his tracksuit top from his body. Then she gently peeled back the dark T-shirt he wore underneath.

  Her hands stopped moving as her head snapped back. ‘Well screw me,’ she whispered.

  Daisy urgently pushed herself out of her adoptive mum’s arms and stepped over to Misty.

  ‘Is it bad?’ she asked fearfully.

  ‘Oh, it’s bad alright,’ Misty shot back looking up at Daisy. ‘Come and have a look.’

  Slowly Daisy moved around the older woman until she stood on the other side of the man who she’d reluctantly come to care for so much. Her fingertips pressed to her lips preparing herself for what she was about to see. She gazed down. Her fingers fell from her mouth in surprise. Instead of seeing Ricky’s naked upper body he wore something black and bulky.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ s
he said, switching her gaze from the unconscious man on the floor to Misty. ‘You said it was bad.’

  ‘And it is, my girl.’ Daisy’s expression grew more confused. ‘Do you know what that is?’ Misty pointed at the bulky item of clothing on Ricky’s chest.

  Daisy shook her head, the same time Jackie swore furiously in the background.

  ‘That my girl,’ Misty continued, ‘is a bullet-proof vest. And do you know who wears that type of vest?’

  Before Daisy could answer the voices of the other women spoke in unison.

  ‘A cop.’

  Chapter Forty-three

  The 321X flight from Malaga airport to Gatwick had been in the air for fifty minutes. The woman in business class sat two rows from the front and three rows from the back. Her hands tightly gripped onto the armrest as she thought about what waited for her back in England.

  Ricky’s eyes flashed open twenty-two minutes later. His chest hurt like hell. He didn’t have a clue where he was. Then the events of the day started to come back to him. The bank job. Tommy’s double cross. A gun blast flinging him off his feet. He realised that his bullet-proof vest was gone. A large dark bruise sprawled across his chest from the impact of Tommy’s bullet. Shit. A bandage covered the bullet wound on his aching arm. He started to struggle up, but froze when he saw what was aimed, point blank, right at him. A gun. And the person holding it was Daisy Sullivan.

  ‘You’ve got a bit of explaining to do.’

  Neither Daisy’s voice nor the compact pistol wavered as she spoke. Jackie and the others were outside. They understood this was one she had to do alone. She was mad. Angrier than she’d been in a long time. All the while she’d been falling under Ricky’s spell he’d been playing her like a classical pianist. The tension between her and Ricky lay as thick as the swirling mist that settled on the canal outside. Ricky eased up. Daisy stepped forward.