Gangster Girl

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  Daisy and Ricky looked at each other. It was Daisy who broke the silence. ‘We’ve got to stop her.’

  They rushed for the door.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  The woman from Spain got out of the cab in front of City Hall. After she paid the driver she pulled out her mobile.

  ‘It’s me. I’m outside.’ She nodded. ‘I’ll stay in the background until all the pleasantries are over and then we’ll meet.’ She nodded one more time, lowered the phone, but didn’t cut the call. She made her way inside and was immediately stopped by one of the security men manning the entrance.

  ‘Invitation, please,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t have one.’

  ‘Then I’m sorry, miss . . .’

  ‘Someone important has asked me to come.’ She passed her phone to him. He gave her a suspicious look before raising the phone to his face.

  Suddenly his posture changed as if he was talking to royalty. ‘Yes, of course.’ He gazed at the woman in front of him as he passed her back her phone. Stepped out of her way. She drew in a huge breath as she made her way upstairs.

  Stella entered City Hall. The entrance was empty. Her plan to get past the metal detector was simple. She moved towards the two security guards on either side of it. Pulled the gun from under her coat. Raised it. Pulled the trigger. Popped one in the forehead. Shot the other through the heart. They both fell dead by the time she walked past them. Calmly she walked up the eye-stopping spiral staircase as she pushed her gun snugly under her coat.

  She made her way up the stairs, the blue and amber lit walls casting shadows over her. On the second landing she heard the rise and fall of voices, the laughter, the clink of glasses. She followed the sounds until she came to the open doors of a great room. The room was huge, filled with people sitting at round tables, partway through their dinner and drinks. On the fringes were waiting staff circulating among the tables. On the far side was a stage with the top table. And at the top table sat her target. Stella waltzed in. Swiped a champagne flute from a passing waitress. Shot the bubbly down her throat in one gulp. Placed the glass down, ever so carefully, on a windowsill. Then she began to open her coat.

  Ricky crashed the red lights. Swung the car onto Tower Bridge like he was doing the final circuit at Brands Hatch. The river flashed past them on both sides like a gathering black storm. A car beeped its horn as the car wobbled onto the edge of the opposite lane. Ricky moved the steering wheel through his hands, bringing the car back under control.

  ‘Maybe you should contact your cop friends.’ Daisy hung onto the armrests, her eyes looking into dark city night through the windscreen.

  ‘Believe me, there’ll be enough cops there, including my superior officer.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘Don’t forget Barbara Benton is making history tonight. Everyone’s going to be there.’

  The sight of City Hall began to rise in the distance. The car hit the end of the bridge. Banged to a stop outside City Hall. The red carpet that had been laid out was long gone. No security guards outside.

  ‘We stick out like a sore thumb,’ Daisy said, looking down at her clothing. ‘We aren’t exactly dressed for the occasion.’

  ‘This is going to do all the talking we need.’ His hand dipped into his back pocket. He flashed his police badge at her like he’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

  ‘Where on earth have you been hiding that?’ she asked.

  He answered her with a grin.

  Without another word they ran towards the entrance. Saw the metal detectors straight away. But no security guards. They went forward. Got within a few metres of the metal detectors when they saw the two bodies. Ricky ran towards them. Bent down over the first body he came to. Checked the pulse. He leant over and did the same to the other guard. He looked up at Daisy. ‘They’re gone. If we don’t stop her, God knows who else she will shoot on her way to take out Randal Curtis.’ He stood up at the same time a loud bang, bang, bang sound came from above. They didn’t even look at each other. Just sprinted up the stairs. No one needed to tell them what that sound was. Automatic gunfire.

  Stella laughed as she sprayed another round of automatic fire into the air. Chaos erupted. People screamed as they ducked and dived under the tables. Tables turned over, chairs flew. Those nearest to the exit crawled on their hands and knees in a desperate effort to get outside. Two cops sprang towards Stella. She aimed her gun at them. They dived out of the way as she hit the trigger. This sent more guests scurrying like mice towards the exit. Suddenly Stella’s hand dove into her bag. Her hand came out shaped as a fist with something inside it. She held her arm high in the air. ‘I’ve got a grenade!’

  Her announcement was answered by more screams. People openly stood up, taking their lives in their hands and ran for the door. Stella just laughed. Looked at what she held in her hand. Her lipstick. She moved closer into the room searching for her target. Found them still at the high table on the stage. Sitting calmly while everyone else went mad around them. An arm came out from under the high table and grabbed the arm of her target. She heard a voice yell, ‘You need to get down. We need to get you out of here.’ But her target just shook them off. Remained rooted in their chair. Kept their eyes squarely on Stella as she advanced.

  Stella pointed her gun directly at her target and shouted, ‘Anyone left in here in five seconds I’m gonna pop.’ The room emptied in a flash before Stella’s eyes. But not her target who remained frozen on the stage.

  Stella sauntered forward, gun still in the air.

  ‘Put it down,’ a voice roared behind her.

  Calmly she turned around. Smiled at who faced her with a pistol in his hand. Johnson.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Stella said sarcastically. ‘If it ain’t the cop on the edge.’

  ‘I said: put it down.’ He menacingly took another step towards her.

  He should have never moved because before his second foot hit the ground Stella let loose with a round of bullets. They smashed into his upper body, spinning him around. His finger pulled back on the trigger shooting into the air as he collapsed on the floor. Stella left him there, bleeding and groaning his life away. She twisted back to the stage. Her target was still there. She moved. Reached the stage. The good side of her face dipped into a nasty expression. ‘Who would’ve thought we’d meet like this after twenty years?’

  There was one person who didn’t panic and leave the room. The woman from Spain shielded herself behind a table that had overturned on its side. She shook as she tried to breathe quietly.

  A wall of people slammed into Daisy and Ricky as they hit the fourth floor. They rammed and pushed through the desperately escaping crowd, trying to get to the reception room. Trying to get there before Stella killed Randal Curtis, who they believed to be Stella’s brother. Daisy used her elbows to barge through. A man, with his head bowed, as if shielding himself from gunfire, tripped as she pushed him. She grabbed on to him before he could fall. He steadied his balance and looked up at her. Daisy’s mouth fell open when she saw who it was. Randal Curtis.

  With relief she pulled him close to her. ‘You managed to get away from Stella?’

  He looked back at her both frightened and baffled by her question. ‘Stella?’ he threw back.

  ‘Yeah.’ Daisy nodded. She felt Ricky come to stand beside her. ‘Stella King came after you. You know, what you did together twenty years ago. You’re her brother aren’t you?’

  ‘I beg your pardon? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He yanked himself out of her grip. Turned and fled down the corridor with everyone else.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Daisy looked up at Ricky.

  A frown creased Ricky’s forehead as his mind ticked away. ‘What if it was never Randal Curtis she was after? Maybe he isn’t her brother. What if she’s after someone else here tonight?’

  Before Daisy could respond more gunfire from the reception room tore through the air.

  They burst through the doors. Skidded to a stop when the
y saw Stella, gun still in hand, talking at the front of the stage. When they saw who she was talking to neither of them could believe it.

  The newly appointed commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Barbara Benton.

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Before they could move Stella twirled around. Pointed the Uzi at them.

  But it wasn’t Stella who spoke but Barbara. ‘Daisy, I didn’t want you involved in any of this.’ Her words echoed in the room.

  ‘Get off the fucking stage,’ Stella cut in. ‘And you two get here.’

  Ricky and Daisy stepped slowly forward.

  ‘We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up,’ a voice yelled on the other side of the door.

  Stella yelled back in a don’t-fuck-with-me voice, ‘You step one foot in here and your new head girl is finished.’

  They all remained tense waiting for a response. None came, but no one relaxed.

  ‘I don’t understand any of this,’ Daisy stammered at Barbara.

  ‘I grew up with Stella on the Caxton estate,’ Barbara said. Both Ricky and Daisy were visibly surprised at this information. ‘I was quite a bit older than her. I went one way and she went another. I tried to help her—’

  ‘I came here to kill you, not hear a fucking story,’ Stella interrupted threateningly. ‘But since they won’t be leaving alive either I suppose there’s no harm in telling them.’

  Silence. Then Barbara started talking again. ‘My home life wasn’t the best when I was young. My mum was an alcoholic and my dad . . . well, let’s just say I met him once in my life and was glad he never appeared again. So I decided to become a cop and the one thing I wanted to do was to protect kids. Make sure they never had to go through what I did. Took a lot of convincing but I set up the first unit within the Met to deal with child protection. That’s how I got to know Stella again. Back then knowing a few people in the underworld was important. Getting your information from the inside has always been crucial to policing. So myself and my two fellow officers in the unit, Clarke and Johnson, would visit Stella at her place in Finsbury Park.’

  She saw the incredulous and damning look on Ricky’s face. ‘Stella was important. She gave us information about men abusing kids that we would have never got. Some of the girls who ended up in her brothel came from the care system. They told her things she passed onto me. We got into the habit of going to her place every Friday night. Having a drink, a bit of a chat. That’s where we met Maxwell Henley—’

  Suddenly a mobile rang. Stella’s grip on the trigger tightened.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Barbara reassured. ‘It’s mine.’ The ringing continued as Stella decided what to do. Finally she said, ‘You know what to tell them.’

  Barbara nodded as she pulled the phone from her police jacket. ‘It’s all alright,’ she spoke softly. ‘Stay where you are. Please stay back.’ She cut the call. Pushed the mobile back into her pocket.

  She took a deep breath and continued with her tale. ‘I knew he was the leader of Woodbridge Council, but at the brothel I found out he was also Stevie King’s silent business partner. I could have told the authorities but I decided not to. Life’s full of compromises and I turned a blind eye and I regret it to this day.’

  ‘We did the right thing,’ Stella belted out. ‘We didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘But how can murder ever be right?’ Ricky blasted.

  ‘Let her talk,’ Daisy cut in, pushing Ricky’s inflamed question to the side, directing her words at Barbara. ‘Stella said whatever happened involved me.’

  Barbara shot Stella a look so furious Daisy thought she was going to jump off the stage. But she didn’t. ‘How could you say that to her?’

  ‘It’s time for the truth, every last bit of it.’

  Barbara once again began to talk as if she was giving a statement. ‘It was a Friday, twentieth of July, 1990. We went to Stella’s as usual that night. When we got there Stella and Stevie were throwing a small party with Maxwell Henley to celebrate a new business deal. And Frankie Sullivan was there having just got out of prison. There were only two other people there, one of the working girls who Maxwell had a thing going on with, and you, Daisy.’ Daisy swallowed, but didn’t interrupt. ‘You were asleep upstairs in your room. I know me, Clarke and Johnson should have left then but we didn’t. We stayed for a round of drinks. Just settled in and started talking.’

  Stella waved the gun around. ‘Then that bastard Henley says he had to go to the Gents upstairs.’

  The sound of a helicopter overhead filled the room.

  Stella and Barbara looked at each other. Barbara resumed speaking. ‘Five minutes later he hadn’t returned. None of us thought anything of it. Johnson gave me the nod and I knew it was time to go. But before I did I went to the ladies upstairs.’ Her voice began to shake. ‘As I walked along the corridor I noticed that the door to your room, Daisy, was slightly opened.’ A shaky smile rippled across her lips as she stared at Daisy. ‘I always loved seeing you. Sometimes I’d tuck you in bed on Friday night.’ The smile fell from her lips. ‘So I thought I’d just look in on you. Kiss you goodnight. I walked up to the door. Pushed it open. And . . .’ Her hand covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. She shook her head, not able to speak.

  But Stella had no such trouble. ‘She walked in on that cunt in bed with you.’

  Daisy covered her mouth, stunned. Ricky drew her into the crook of his arm.

  ‘You were four years old and that scumbag had his filthy hands all over you,’ Stella slammed out. ‘I’m downstairs and the next thing I hear is this scream. Didn’t know it at the time but it was Barbara screaming blue murder. We shot upstairs. Barbara had dragged him out of the bed. Fucking hell, he had his pants around his ankles. She was hitting him and hitting him. Daisy, you were bawling your head off on the bed, so Clarke picks you up with your favourite teddy and takes you downstairs. He tells you to play with your teddy near the piano and comes back upstairs.’

  ‘Henley was grovelling on the floor. Begging. Saying he didn’t mean to do it. Couldn’t help himself.’ Barbara shook with every word.

  Stella half lowered the gun. ‘And all I could think about were the men my mum would bring back to our flat and make me go into the room with them. I was fourteen years old and all my mum cared about was the money I put in her drinks jar.’ She touched her forehead with the tip of her fingers. ‘I don’t even remember where I got the gun from. I just shot him again and again and again. He was leaking blood everywhere. We didn’t know but it was going through the cracks in the floorboards. All we heard was your scream, Daisy. So Frankie rushed downstairs to find blood dropping on you from above.’

  Daisy’s nightmares flashed into her mind. A girl playing with a teddy by the piano. A girl with blood dripping on her head. Oh God, it wasn’t a dream. It was real.

  ‘We had to decide what to do,’ Barbara carried on.

  But Ricky ripped into her. ‘You should’ve taken it back to base.’

  ‘No,’ she replied coldly. ‘That wasn’t an option. If we had, all of our work – mine, Clarke’s and Johnson’s – would have gone up in smoke. There were still those in the force who thought that the child protection unit was a waste of taxpayers’ money and if they found out what happened that night our work would’ve been wrecked. Maxwell Henley was evil and deserved to die. We did the right thing.’

  ‘Murder can never be the right thing,’ Ricky slung back.

  ‘Think the same thing, do you, Daisy?’ Stella asked. ‘Think we should’ve let him loose to fiddle with more kids?’

  The quick fire questions hit her like grenades exploding in her face. That man had been touching her. Putting his filthy flesh all over her. And those two women had saved her. But did that make it right? She just shook her head and didn’t answer.

  ‘We buried him under the piano. Kept the brothel closed for a couple months until the smell went away. Stevie put it about that Henley skipped town, gone off to his villa in Spain, which Stevie had
given him as a welcome to the organisation present. He was divorced, no kids, thank God, so no one came looking for him.’

  ‘So how did Charlie get involved?’

  ‘Charlie was Frankie’s brief,’ Stella said. ‘I told the others I’d destroy all the evidence, but I didn’t, I gave it all to Frankie to deal with. He must’ve given Charlie the stuff to look after for him in a deposit box, no questions asked.’

  ‘Why didn’t Dad just get rid of the gun and photo?’

  ‘Dunno. Mind you, knowing Frankie having stuff on people was his stock in trade. He always taught me that you never knew when you might need to hold something in someone’s face to get them to do what you wanted.’

  ‘But how did the doctor’s report about Jo-Jo’s psychiatric problems get into the deposit box?’ Daisy threw out.

  Stella shook her head. ‘Over the years I would give Frankie other things to look after for me. I could trust him. I gave him Jo-Jo’s report to make sure Stevie never found it. Stevie would’ve gone ballistic if he thought his daughter was a nutter. And Frankie must’ve given it to Charlie as well for safe keep—’ Suddenly she stopped talking, her steel eyes turning deadly. ‘How do you know what else was in the deposit box?’

  Realising her mistake Daisy shifted closer to Ricky. ‘You bitch,’ Stella yelled raising her gun. ‘You had the stuff in the box all the time.’ Her finger curled around the trigger. ‘I should—’

  ‘What about my sister?’ Ricky demanded. ‘She disappeared that—’

  A voice from the other side of the room cut in, ‘I was the prostitute who was still there that night.’