by Martina Cole
‘No more, Petey. This is the one and only time, right?’
He didn’t answer her. Instead he walked from the bedroom and she heard him cleaning his teeth. She lay back in bed, her mind made up for her. First thing in the morning she was accepting Maura Ryan’s offer.
She looked at Jamie’s photo and silently said sorry for taking from the people who had in effect ended his life, but she had a feeling he would understand why she was doing it.
Chapter Nineteen
Tommy was in the Mosquito Bar in Victoria Street waiting for a friend. It was a place he used a lot. He had brought Maura here a few times and they had gone downstairs to the Vampire Bar, with its futons and privacy curtains, and she had loved it.
He had enjoyed it as well. Now, as he sat alone in the nightclub, he wished he was anywhere in the world but here. He felt self-conscious, knew that people were watching him, but this was the only place he could meet Jack Stern safely. He would only meet him in public; Jack was arsed with him over losing the coke and the grief from the Ryans, and Tommy was not going to take any chances.
The music was loud, and the place was rapidly filling up. It was an upmarket club in many respects and screamed of money. It had soap stars, footballers and other Liverpool celebrities in most nights. It also had a liberal sprinkling of the Liverpool underworld and many a deal had been done over a meal in the restaurant or in the secluded Vampire Bar.
Charlie Siega, the local underworld’s most colourful character, walked past him and Tommy smiled, bringing up his arm to shake hands. Charlie looked at him coldly and carried on walking. By that one action Tommy knew the Ryans had already put the word out even in his local haunts. He felt physically sick with nerves and humiliation. He could feel Charlie’s eyes boring into him, and wanted to leave. But he couldn’t, not until he had talked to Jack.
Then Tommy saw Joss and relaxed at once. He had not spoken to him since the night Joss had told him what he thought of him and had gone to see Maura to make his own peace. Tommy had missed his old friend so much and seeing him now when he was at his lowest felt like fate was finally going his way again.
Joss walked towards him, smiling slightly.
Tommy sipped at his drink and waited for Joss to reach him at the long bar. He walked straight past and Tommy watched in disbelief as Joss ordered a drink and then went over to stand with Charlie and his friends. Tommy was burning with humiliation now. Never in all his life had he experienced anything like this. But he should have expected it from Joss; he was a loyal individual unlike Tommy and had had a genuine liking and respect for Maura Ryan.
Tommy pushed her from his mind; he was missing her and that in itself was surprising. He wasn’t used to being the underdog in a relationship. He was used to being the main event.
He glanced at his watch surreptitiously. Jack was nearly an hour late, but he knew he had to allow for the traffic on the M1. He ordered another drink and sipped it while he looked around at the gathering crowd. He was admiring the tits on the young women when he heard Joss’s familiar voice.
‘Jack ain’t coming, Tommy.’ His old pal was behind him at the bar and talking to him without looking at him. ‘Word is all over that the Ryans want you. Jack’s meeting with them tonight, trying to get back in with them. Don’t go home or to any of your usual haunts.’
He was gone in seconds and Tommy, taking in what he had said, got up a few minutes later and nonchalantly walked from the room. He had never felt so self-conscious in all his life. Or so alone.
So Jack was trying to build fences with the Ryans? Tommy understood that, they had the coke after all. But where the fuck did that leave him now? He had done all the groundwork, and now he was out of the running. Six years back they were to have been a combined force, Tommy in Liverpool, Vic in the south east, with Jack bankrolling the operation from the proceeds of thirty years of murder in return for a cut.
Now Vic hadn’t even been in touch with Tommy since his return to England, which was ominous. Word had it he still blamed the Ryans for Sandra’s death, but Tommy wouldn’t have put money on it. Looked like he had fucked up all round.
As he unlocked his car he saw a flash of metal beside him. A young man with long hair and goatee beard was standing there holding a long-bladed knife. Joss stepped up behind him and dropped the boy with a heavy blow to the head.
‘You’d best fuck off, Tommy. That is the last time I’ll be able to help you out, OK?’
He turned swiftly and walked away.
‘Joss . . . Joss, for fuck’s sake . . .’
Joss could hear the need and the hurt in Tommy Rifkind’s voice but he carried on walking. Tommy had made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Joss had no intention of going down with him. Tommy was the nearest he had ever come to loving another human being, but he couldn’t forgive what Tommy had done to Maura and the Ryan family. After all their years together Joss was finally seeing Tommy for the treacherous bastard he was.
Tommy watched him walk away and then looked down at the unconscious boy on the ground and kicked him in the head. Finally he got into his car and drove away.
But where to? That was the question.
Maura let herself into her house and was greeted by the smell of beef casserole and fresh cooked vegetables. She plastered a smile on her face before walking into the kitchen and greeting her mother.
‘Something smells good.’
Sarah was wearing an apron over a high-necked dress, her wrinkled face set in a scowl.
‘How the shag you cook on that shagging Aga I will never know.’
Maura grinned.
‘You get used to it, Mum.’
‘Sit yourself down, lovey, and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’
Maura sat at the kitchen table and said nonchalantly, ‘I have a few people coming tonight for a business meeting, Mum.’
Sarah scowled.
‘A business meeting at this time of night?’
Maura nodded.
‘Do I look that fecking stupid, Maura Ryan?’
She smiled at her mother’s angry tone.
‘I’ll do a few sandwiches and a bit of cake, shall I?’
Maura was finding it harder and harder to keep the smile nailed to her face. ‘That’s all right, Mum . . .’
Sarah interrupted her.
‘I used to do that for your brother when he worked from home. Men can eat at any time of the day and night; it gives them something else to concentrate on and makes for a nice friendly atmosphere.’
Maura took the proffered tea and laughed.
‘Whatever you say, Mum.’
Sarah served her up a small bowl of casserole and she ate it with relish, not realising until then just how hungry she was. After the trouble she had had with Benny she had not believed she would ever have the stomach for food again.
‘What’s happened with your man?’
‘You mean Benny, Mum?’
Sarah nodded. She couldn’t say his name, didn’t want to think about him if she was honest, but she had to know what was going to happen to him.
‘He went into the police station about half an hour ago, of his own accord and with legal representation. We think someone placed the head in his house and that they were trying to incriminate him.’
It sounded ludicrous even to Maura’s own ears and it was costing them a small fortune to have that statement believed by the CPS. But it was worth it, they had all reluctantly decided. Benny was better off under their watchful gaze but would have to spend a while on remand, and perhaps that would teach him in future.
Sarah seized on her explanation.
‘Thank God! I knew he wasn’t capable of that. As bad as he is, I knew he wouldn’t go that far.’
Maura didn’t answer her. She just concentrated on eating the delicious food served to her. Benny was battered and torn and she hoped he had learned a very basic lesson. That lesson being they were all sick to death of him.
Tommy Rifkind Junior lived in a nice detached ho
use in Chester. His father had bought it for him many years before when Tommy Junior had first married. It was a large substantial house and now worth three times what Tommy had paid for it. It had the requisite ivy growing all over the front, and long Georgian-style windows that gave the place an upmarket look. It was only about twenty-five years old but it looked as if it had been there a hundred years or more. Tommy always got what he paid for.
As he braked on the drive he saw that both his son and his daughter-in-law were at home. He was nervous as he got out of the car and approached the house. The door was opened by his son before he even got close enough to ring the bell.
Tommy’s first-born son was a big handsome man who wore designer glasses and cashmere sweaters. Tommy was proud of him and his academic achievements but didn’t like him as a person. He was a hypocrite. Tommy Senior did not like his son’s wife Angela either; she was a snob who had moved herself out of a council house and now tried to pretend that she was born upper-middle-class. Gina had got on well with her because Gina could get along with anyone. Tommy had clashed with Angela from day one.
He couldn’t understand what the fuck his son had ever seen in this flat-chested woman with the hairy upper lip and the pseudo-refined twang. He conceded she had nice hair and teeth but that was hardly enough to keep a relationship going.
It had never occurred to Tommy that not every man graded a woman on a one to ten scale and put their physical attributes before personality or intelligence. His son had a good solid marriage to a woman who loved him, they had nice kids and took their role as parents very seriously. They travelled and the children went with them. They had a wide circle of friends and gave popular dinner parties. His grandchildren were happy and well-adjusted, but Tommy Senior still couldn’t understand what the hell his son saw in that stuck-up mare he called his wife.
They lived in a different world from him, and Tommy being Tommy couldn’t understand how they could live as they did and be happy.
He was nervous as he faced his child and hostility was evident on the younger man’s face.
‘Hello, son.’
Tommy heard the tremor in his voice and tried to control it.
Tommy Junior looked at him for long moments before saying, ‘What brings you here?’
He was talking to him as if he was a stranger or a bare acquaintance.
‘I wanted to see the kids.’
‘At this time of night?’
His son looked pointedly at his watch.
Angela was standing behind her husband and he could see the concern etched on her face.
‘My children do not keep nightclub hours and we have guests. So if you will excuse me . . .’
His son was shutting the door in his face and Tommy, with nowhere to go, was beginning to panic. He put his foot into the door to prevent its closure. He could smell food and hear the low hum of conversation coming from the dining room.
‘Who’s in there?’
His son sighed heavily; it was uncanny to see him up close, they looked like clones of one another.
‘No one you know. No murderers, thieves or liars in this house, I’m afraid.’
He looked desperately into his son’s face.
‘Please, Tommy. Please don’t do this to me. Not tonight.’
Tommy Junior looked at him for a few seconds before saying quietly, ‘Leave us alone, would you? Just leave me and mine alone. We don’t want you here, I don’t want you here, OK?’
‘I am your father . . .’
Tommy Junior stepped away from the front door and pulled it closed behind him. His voice was a hiss as he said, ‘Do me a favour, Dad. Go back to whatever gutter you crawled out of and don’t ever come here again.’
He marched back into the house and closed the door firmly in his father’s face. Tommy stood there for a few minutes. He needed his son at this moment, desperately needed his help. He had literally nowhere else to go. He was wanted by everyone, and daren’t go home or near or by any of his usual haunts. He had been staying in a hotel just outside Liverpool but had checked out because he had assumed he would be off tonight with Jack on his way to meet Vic. The fact that wasn’t happening told him that they were both enemies now, and more enemies he did not need.
Tommy sat in his car and watched as his son pulled the curtains in the lounge. He drove off down the drive and as he did so felt the sting of tears. He swallowed them down, full of self-pity and shame. He had never been there for his son, for either of his sons. He had ignored one and used the other.
It was payback time. Gina had always said, what goes round comes round. How right she was.
Leonie was in Maura’s kitchen helping Sarah make the sandwiches and regaling her with stories of her riotous upbringing. Sarah and Maura had both been surprised when Gerry had turned up with the girl, but had made her welcome. It was so out of character for him that Maura and Sarah had looked at each other and raised their brows in wonderment. Leonie, however, had charmed them both and Maura decided she liked her a lot more when she was with Garry than she had when the girl had been at Jack Stern’s house. Then it occurred to her that Jack was due to be at tonight’s meeting and her heart sank.
Garry, however, thought it would be hilarious.
Sarah had promised to keep the girl in the kitchen and Maura decided that Leonie probably didn’t want to see her ex-beau anyway. She hoped that disaster would be averted.
Tony Dooley and his sons were still at the house and Sarah had fed them all her beef casserole and freshly warmed rolls. She loved feeding people and these huge men with their huge appetites had made her night with their clean plates and heartfelt compliments.
She looked at Maura over Leonie’s pretty head and said happily, ‘This is like the old days, eh? Michael used to have the house full of his friends and I would cook to me heart’s content.’
Maura could see her mother’s eyes shining with the pleasure of being useful, wanted, and she loved her again. Sarah grinned at Leonie.
‘Mind you, with nine children I spent me fecking life cooking. There was always something simmering on the stove. I loved it, though, I was so proud of me brood . . .’
As Maura listened to her mother she saw again the woman she had been before they hit the big time in the criminal stakes. She’d been content to take care of anyone then even if she didn’t know them. That was the Sarah Ryan Maura knew and loved. She hugged the little woman to her and said gaily, ‘She is eighty-seven, Leonie! Isn’t she marvellous?’
Sarah pushed her off roughly but she was laughing as she said, ‘No need to shout it from the rooftops.’
‘You are a babe, Mrs Ryan!’
Maura, Sarah and Leonie all laughed, and Garry, hearing them, was pleased. It was important that Leonie got on well with his family, especially Maura and his mother. If it all stayed as it was he was going to marry her. A big fuck-off church do, cake, the lot. He’d decided he was going to have the works.
He looked at the clock. It was nearly time for the meet. Jack was due at the house at two thirty. Garry hoped he told them exactly what they wanted to hear. If he didn’t, Garry was going to kill him.
He had had enough of all this piss-balling about.
Benny was sitting in a cell in Basildon police station. He couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. He sat on the hard bed and stared around him. He hated it: the smell, the graffiti and the sense of complete isolation he was feeling.
At least the family had made sure he was well treated; he had had a bottle of wine brought to him from a local restaurant and also a shot of Temazepam. The last thing they needed was for him to lose it completely. He was frightened of this happening himself. He knew he had pissed everyone off big time and was going to lie low for a while. He was getting off this charge, it was all practically sorted. He just had to swallow for a few days and that was that.
He settled himself on the narrow bed as best he could and contented himself with thinking of what he was going to do to Carol when he finally
saw her. He could smell his own sweat and it made him feel uncomfortable but he forced himself to relax. He wondered how Abul was getting on without him. Benny had only been here a few hours and already he had had enough of it.
He tried the deep breathing techniques he had used as a boy to calm himself. They didn’t work but took his mind off his immediate predicament. He knew the meet with Jack Stern was happening tonight and wanted to be there so badly. He also knew that Tommy Rifkind was being hunted down and would have liked to have been the man who took him out.
He was getting more and more wound up.
It didn’t help that the drunk in the next cell had woken up and kept singing, ‘If You’re Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands’.
All in all Benjamin Ryan was having a seriously shit night.
Tommy dumped his car in a lock-up near Knowsley and exchanged it for a beat-up Fiesta from his scrapyard. As he looked around the yard he wondered if his dead son had left any impression here. He had seen a programme on Discovery about places being haunted by people who had died violent deaths, and his son’s death had been about as violent as it could get.
He tried to visualise Tommy B but couldn’t even remember what he’d looked like. He drove to Toxteth and parked in a quiet road. Locking the car, he walked for twenty minutes to his destination.
He crept up the main stairs of the low-rise block of flats and knocked gently on a scuffed front door. The place was filthy. It stank of stale cooking and rubbish bags. There was no answer. He knocked once more, harder this time.
‘Fuck off!’
He half-smiled to hear the voice.
Putting his hand through the letterbox, he was amazed to see that a key was still in place there on a piece of string. He put it in the lock but it didn’t fit. The sound of him trying to open the door brought the tenant of the property out into the hallway.
‘Who is it?’
Lizzie’s voice was scared-sounding now.