Gangster Girl

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  ‘You did what?’ Ricky half erupted from the chair.

  ‘Hold on a minute.’ Jerome half rose in defence of Daisy.

  Ricky flashed him a look of complete rage. ‘Sit down, posh boy. This is between me and my partner here.’

  The tension sizzled as both men remained frozen in their poses. Finally Jerome retook his seat, pushing his hand through his hair, settling every strand back into place.

  ‘I met her at Charlie’s funeral.’ With a twist of his mouth Ricky eased back down as she carried on speaking. ‘She gave me her card and said if I ever needed any help . . .’ She waved her hand in the air when Ricky opened his mouth. ‘I know it might seem to be a stupid move, but she might have known who he was. It was a chance I had to take.’

  Ricky cursed furiously.

  Jerome locked his fingers together across the table. ‘You’re both missing the big question here.’

  ‘Which is?’ Ricky responded sarcastically.

  ‘I’ve already told you that Barbara knows who Maxwell Henley is. The big question is surely why she told Daisy she didn’t recognise him?’

  ‘No way.’ Ricky shook his head after a pause. ‘She’s as straight as they come.’

  Jerome leant across the table unlocking his fingers, ‘I’m not suggesting for a minute . . .’

  But his words stopped when Ricky’s phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket as he stood up. He wandered over to the window. ‘Bert, what have you got for me?’

  ‘I couldn’t find any DNA evidence. I suspect whoever used this wiped it clean. But I can tell you that it was last fired quite a long time ago.’

  ‘Twenty years?’

  ‘Maybe. I can’t be that precise.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ Ricky winced as his arm began to ache. ‘I need to get the gun back.’

  ‘Ah.’ Bert coughed. ‘Now that is going to be a slight problem.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I don’t have it. My boss demanded that I hand it over because one of the top brass wanted it.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I told you not to tell anyone about what we’d found – including the friggin’ gun.’

  Ricky railed at Daisy as they moved in the dark night towards the car, parked on the street around the corner from Daisy’s home. ‘You might as well have taken out a billboard ad.’

  Daisy’s long strides kept pace with Ricky’s as she blasted back. ‘Jerome has already said he isn’t going to blab to anyone yet and you yourself said that Barbara is as straight as they come.’

  ‘But she’s the main man at the Met for Christ sake.’

  ‘Maybe it wasn’t her who requested the gun from your friend. It might be someone else.’

  ‘Like who? The ghost of Dixon of Dock Green?’

  Shaking, Daisy hunted in her pocket for her bottle of pills. She stopped as she undid the lid. Peered inside. Two left. As she tipped the mouth of the bottle into her hand she let out a loud ‘ouch’ when she felt fingers dig into her arm. She looked up to find Ricky gazing at her with his furious black eyes. ‘You ain’t still taking none of that shit? For Christ’s sake, you might be pregnant.’

  Thinking of carrying his kid made her feel giddy. She tried to wrench her arm away but he held on tight. ‘I’m a fucking wreck, alright,’ she yelled. ‘I just need to calm down.’

  He swiped the bottle out of her hand. ‘That ain’t going to help you.’

  She trembled as she lunged at the bottle in his hand. But he pulled his arm back. ‘Please Ricky, you don’t understand . . .’

  ‘When my sister disappeared, you know what I started to do? Drink. Bloody thirteen years old and I saw more of my local offy than I did of my school. And do you know why my life went bottle-shaped? Because I started seeing my sister.’ Daisy stopped moving. ‘She’d come to me as beautiful as the last time I saw her, talking to me, comforting me, telling me she was alright. Is that what’s been happening to you? Every time you popped one of these?’ He shook the bottle, the single pill making a dull rattle against the plastic. ‘You get all happy and start seeing your old man?’

  Quickly she averted her gaze, but he went in for the kill. ‘I’m right, ain’t I? He appears with a puff of smoke. As long as you’ve got the tabs you don’t have to say goodbye to your dad.’

  The truth of his words infuriated her. ‘You’re wrong,’ she slammed out as she leapt towards the bottle in his hand. He danced out of the way, making her stagger into thin air. He started to speak – although to her rage-filled mind it sound like nasty taunting – as she righted herself. ‘That stuff fucks up your mind.’ She leapt, he moved. ‘The first night I went undercover in Belmarsh, they stuck me in a cell with this deadbeat who was taking some heavy duty shit.’ They did their antagonistic dance again. ‘Every night he starts chatting away to Britney Spears, thinking she’s in front of him, telling her to hit me baby one more time with her dominatrix whip.’

  Daisy twisted her mouth. Right, she’d had enough of this. She lashed out with a powerful front kick and caught him dead centre in the balls. God knew what they must look like to anyone passing on the street, and for two people who were meant to be trying not to attract any attention they were doing a damn poor job of it. A loud whoosh erupted from Ricky’s body as he fell to his knees. But he didn’t let go of the bottle. She dived for it. He leant backwards. She landed on top of him pushing his weight backwards. He hit the ground, still in pain, and howled louder as she caught his wounded arm. But he was determined to hang onto his prize. He clasped his arms around her waist and rolled her onto her back. She kept the motion going and reversed their positions. Ricky yelped from the pain in his arm as they rolled like two kids slugging it out in the playground. Out of nowhere two beams of strong, white light hit them. Quickly Ricky glanced over her shoulder.

  ‘Bollocks,’ he shouted, his eyes going wide. She turned and saw what he was watching. The headlights of a black car headed towards them on the pavement. The wheels got larger as the car got closer. Desperately they untangled from each other’s arms. The car wasn’t stopping. Ricky rolled to the right. She rolled to the left. But the video box up her top made her roll awkwardly. The car clipped her leg as it roared past. She let out a screech of high pain. And that was the last thing she remembered.

  Chapter Fifty

  Dazed and in pain Daisy slowly woke up. She sucked in a harsh breath as a sharp pain stabbed her in the leg. The position of her body told her that she was lying down. Where she was she didn’t know because her eyes were covered with a film of bleariness that obscured her vision.

  ‘Easy,’ a soothing voice above said. She rapidly blinked, flicking the bleariness away. Her vision cleared. The first thing she saw was a high, white ceiling with a huge chandelier decorated with what looked like crystal tear drops and with a light that made her blink some more. Where the hell was she? Then she remembered the car and the impact. Desperately, she used her hands to try to sit up. But someone else’s hands got there first and gently pushed her back down. She twisted her head to the side and let out a sigh of pure relief when she saw who it was. Ricky.

  He gave her a small smile, but the rest of him didn’t look so good. His brown skin was unnaturally pale and his expressive black eyes were so filled with concern she thought someone had died.

  He took her hand in his. ‘Hey, how’s my little kick-boxer feeling?’

  ‘Like she’s been run over by a herd of elephants.’ Her voice was weak from both tiredness and pain.

  They both smiled at each other as he squeezed her hand. ‘Did someone try to kill us?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s either that or you’ve got more than one jealous boyfriend who ain’t too pleased about you running around town with me.’

  Before they could say anymore Daisy heard the sound of a door opening. Someone else came into the room. Daisy lifted her head to look and when she saw who it was she froze.

  Barbara Benton, kitted out in top
brass police regalia, moved towards them. Daisy turned questioning eyes to Ricky and said, ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘Welcome to my home, Daisy,’ the commissioner-elect replied as she perched at the other end of the couch.

  Daisy rustled upright, wincing with pain. She looked from Ricky to Barbara. And back again.

  ‘I never did tell you how I became a cop,’ Ricky started. ‘Some nosey woman helped me out of the gutter, saw my potential and mentored me.’ He gazed at Barbara with a huge glint of respect and affection in his dark eyes.

  The other woman picked up the story as she sent him a fond smile. ‘I busted him on a marijuana charge, nothing major, just personal use, but the way he tried to dodge my questions made me realise that he had a savvy brain. And he knew the streets of London like the back of his hand. I told him if he started working for us he could do some good and make something of himself and he did. Eventually, he proved to be so good we made his membership of the service formal and overlooked all his very unfortunate and very long list of offences. You have to bend the rules sometimes, as I’m sure you know. Although whether we were meant to bend them that far I’m not so sure.’

  Ricky’s smile broadened. ‘And on those long nights on my bunk in E-Wing, I sometimes thought I was better off smashed.’

  Barbara pinned Daisy with her keen gaze. ‘What matters Daisy is that Ricky trusts me enough to bring you here . . .’

  ‘But it must have been you who took the gun,’ Daisy slammed back despite the pain. ‘You were the only other person who knew about it.’

  ‘I hold my hands up. Of course it was me.’ Her voice became stern. ‘Tonight I’m going to be given the job of looking after the welfare of this city. As soon as you said the word gun and I suspected that it was in police custody there was no way I was going to let it back onto the street.’ She raised her eyebrow at Daisy. ‘I don’t know if you realise but we have a firearms problem in this city.’ She swiftly shifted her gaze to Ricky. ‘Don’t we, Detective Smart?’

  ‘Barbara, you know I can’t let this go. You of all people know how much my sister meant to me.’

  ‘Ricky, you went undercover to do a job and you’ve done it. The Kings are out of action for good. Someone out there is trying to put you out of action for good as well. So why don’t you now hand in all the other evidence that you’ve got? That.’ She pointed to the video box on the floor between Ricky and Daisy. ‘I take it has the contents of Charlie Hopkirk’s safe-deposit box. Let the police deal with it.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘I’m your commanding officer and I’m commanding you to follow a direct order, Detective Ricardo Smart.’

  They glared at each other, the younger cop’s passion and defiance openly clashing with the powerhouse superiority of the Met’s highest-ranking female officer. Barbara was the first to back down. ‘I haven’t got much time because I need to be at City Hall. This isn’t finished, Ricky.’ She stomped towards the door and left the room.

  As soon as the door closed, Ricky pressed his finger to his lips, warning Daisy to be quiet. Silently he crept towards the door. Moved along the wide hallway towards the kitchen with the knowledge of someone who knew the house like his own name was on the mortgage papers. He found the kitchen at the far end tucked away in the right hand corner. As he leant against the wall outside he heard her voice. He didn’t register what she was saying because he was too stunned that she was on the phone. The call might be innocent, but then again it might not. He wasn’t taking any chances that she was on the blower to his superior.

  Without saying a word Ricky carefully, but firmly, pulled Daisy up from the sofa, grasping both her hands with his and rocking backwards. She let out a yelp of pain as she stood on her injured leg. She almost collapsed on the floor. Ricky moved his hands to her waist, supporting her.

  ‘You need to keep moving,’ Ricky commanded as his gaze swung towards the window.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Daisy leant on her good side, taking the pressure off her right leg.

  ‘We need to get out of here now.’ The expression on his face told her that it wasn’t time for explanations.

  He dropped her arm as he reached the long, draped curtains. Tore them back. Stared at the twin high windows. Reached for one of the handles but it wouldn’t budge.

  ‘I don’t have time to pick the lock.’ A swaying Daisy watched as he bolted for the couch she had recently vacated. Picked up an ornately patterned, mauve cushion and headed past a confused Daisy straight towards the windows. He pushed the cushion against the right window and raised his free arm. Fisted his hand as he swung his arm back and landed an almighty punch against the cushion. The window cracked, shooting shards of glass onto the immaculately maintained lawn outside. He moved the cushion back revealing a jagged, gaping hole. He pushed the cushion against the remaining glass making big chunks of glass fall outside.

  Suddenly Daisy swung towards the door. ‘I think she’s coming.’

  Without saying a word Ricky rushed to the left side of the room and grabbed a turquoise-and-white striped high-backed chair and ran with it towards the broken window. Positioned it underneath. Daisy didn’t need to be told what to do. She leapt up, sucking her breath in as hot pain knifed her left side. Then she remembered the video box on the floor, with the contents of the deposit box.

  She twisted her head at Ricky and said, ‘Calamity Jane.’

  He swore and dashed across the room. She turned back around and gritted her teeth against the pain as she gripped the window frame and pushed herself through. Still hanging on she dropped to the ground. Her right leg gave way and she landed in a heap on the damp, cold grass.

  ‘Ricky,’ she heard Barbara roar inside as she started to pick herself up.

  Daisy ducked and rocked when Ricky’s body came spring boarding outside. He landed in a crouch position a few feet ahead of Daisy, video box clutched tight against his chest.

  ‘We need to run,’ he called to her.

  ‘I can’t.’ She wobbled. ‘My leg.’

  He shot towards her. Gathered his arms around her. For the second time that day he lifted her, pain blasting through his arms and bolted down the dark street.

  ‘I’m going to have to cut you loose, partner.’

  Daisy stared with astonishment at Ricky as he inspected her hip and leg in the car. She lay prone in the backseat, the video box hidden under her tracksuit top as his gaze swept the bruise on her side. It was large, leaving her skin a remarkable marbled shade of purple entwined with black. Nothing was broken, but it still hurt like her first day in the fires of hell.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Her blue eyes blazed. She knew exactly what he meant, but he was going to have to explain it to her, straight to her face.

  ‘This is the end of the road for you.’

  She was furious. ‘Now you’ve seen the contents of the deposit box you don’t need me anymore. We had a deal. Someone tried to kill us less than an hour ago. Plus you’re in no state to defend yourself.’

  Before he could respond Daisy’s mobile went off. Angrily she whipped it out.

  ‘What?’ she yelled with impatience.

  ‘It’s Jo-Jo.’ Daisy’s eyes swung to Ricky. She mouthed Jo-Jo’s name to him.

  ‘I’m really scared,’ the younger woman said. ‘I’ve got some information about some stuff that happened twenty years ago.’

  ‘What? Tell me what you know.’

  Ricky mouthed ‘What?’ to her, but she ignored him.

  ‘Meet me at a lock-up that belonged to my dad. It’s in Bethnal Green.’ Jo-Jo gave Daisy the address and cut the call.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That she’s got information about what happened twenty years ago.’ His body went rigid as his intense breathing filled the car and she knew he was thinking about his sister. She told him where Jo-Jo wanted to meet them.

  ‘Come on, we need to turn the car around,’ Daisy said urgently.

  But he didn’t follow her i
nstructions. Instead he kept the car moving forward.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  But he kept his mouth closed. She peered out of the window suddenly realising where they were going. Into the heart of Wapping, where she lived.

  ‘You can’t take me home,’ she pleaded.

  He continued to ignore her as he swung the car into Wapping High Street. The car bumped along the cobbled road. Her mouth opened in surprise as the car shot past her building. Where the hell was he taking her? He hit the Shim-Sham-Shimmy Club and suddenly she understood. A line of clubbers waited outside, their clothes ranging from outrageous flares to shirts and blouses with flyaway collars to height defying Afros. It was a retro seventies disco night.

  She picked up her pleading. ‘Don’t do this.’ Her voice rose hysterically.

  He got out of the car. Rushed around to her side. Swung the door open. She held onto the armrest with both hands resisting any attempt to move her. But he hooked his arms under and with his whole might pulled her into his arms. He carried her protesting out of the car, the line of people outside the club looking on with curiosity and horror. He dumped her gently on the cold pavement.

  ‘Sorry, babe. This might be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.’ He shot her a grim look and dashed back to the car.

  She tried to get up but her injured leg made her collapse back on the ground. She hit the ground with her fist and roared after him, like a mad woman, at the disappearing car, ‘Ricky Smart, you bastard.’

  ‘How could you have done that to us?’

  It was Auntie Ollie who threw the damning question. Daisy stood looking at the pissed off face of Jackie and the calmer expression of Ollie in the Shim-Sham-Shimmy Club. The happy-go-lucky singing voices of the club’s punters downstairs rocking along to Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’ drifted upstairs from the dance floor. One of the club’s bouncers dealing with the traffic on the door had recognised Daisy as she lay outside. He’d carried her to the room on the second floor. Plonked her on the black leather sofa. She’d got up ready to do a runner, but Jackie and Ollie had barged in before she could.