‘In self-defence.’ Mansell nodded.
‘Hmm.’ Porter wondered how much Harry was paying Mansell to make up this load of codswallop. ‘And how’s Harry now?’ Porter asked.
‘He didn’t look good, Sir. Terry took a bullet to the shoulder, he’ll be fine. But Harry, well, like I said, Sir. He doesn’t look good.’
‘What about Raymond Marks? Was he here too?’ Porter was hopeful. He just needed something, a tiny grain of evidence on either of the two men and he could stitch the bastards up. They’d both been running rings around him for far too long.
‘Raymond Marks? Why would he have been here? No, it was just Harry and Evie.’ Mansell bit the inside of his lip now. Raymond had been the one to call him tonight. Mansell had raced to the bar in just minutes. By then the damage had already been done. Taking the guns, Raymond had left Mansell, Terry and the girls with a story to stick to.
The O’Sheas had attacked them. They were innocent.
Mansell had done his bit now. He just prayed that Raymond hadn’t overlooked anything before he fled.
Taking a deep breath, Porter knew that there was a whole lot more to this story. But Porter also knew the score better than anyone: without cold hard evidence, he had nothing to go on. Not unless by some miraculous turn of good fortune they happened upon some evidence that would put either Raymond or Harry in the frame here.
Porter had been silenced by these two crooks for far too long. Tonight he thought he’d finally managed to find some dirt on Raymond and Harry that even they would have problems concealing.
But he’d been wrong.
The fact that Harry Woods and his family were the apparent victims in tonight’s attack was too hard to believe. Harry Woods had never been anyone’s victim.
‘There’s one more thing, Guv,’ Mansell said as he removed the clear plastic bag from his pocket. ‘One of the other officers found this while they were doing the search of the premises and the bodies. They recognised it straight away as one of the rare pieces that was stolen in the big jeweller’s raid in Mayfair a few years back. The one that you were working on.’
Mansell said the words ‘working on’ with a slight tilt to his voice. If truth be known Porter had been obsessed by that case at one time. That was when his whole vendetta towards Harry had first started.
Holding out his hand, Porter’s eyes lit up as he stared at the sparkling green emerald in the centre of the gold brooch. This was one of the pieces that he had spent the last seven years trying to track down. He’d known all along it had been Harry and Raymond who had pulled the robbery off, he just needed firm evidence.
And now he had it. The stolen brooch had at last been found.
‘Fucking Bingo!’ Porter beamed. Finally a break in the case. He could have hugged Mansell for this. Maybe he’d got the officer wrong. Mansell could have just kept the piece for himself after all. ‘Let’s hope Harry survives, eh? He’ll go down for years for this.’
‘Oh no, Guv, you’ve got it wrong,’ Mansell said as he placed the jewel in Porter’s hand. ‘They didn’t find this in Harry’s possession, nor was it found in the bar.’
‘Well I don’t understand. You just said that one of the officers found it during the search of the premises?’
‘And the bodies . . . They found it on Jimmy, it was tucked inside his wallet. Turns out that all the time you’ve been chasing Harry for the robbery, and it was the O’Sheas all along.’
Pursing his lips as he fought his hardest not to laugh at Porter’s face, draining of colour, Mansell shrugged. ‘What were the chances, huh?’
Chapter Forty-Nine
The bleeping machinery together with the wires and tubes were the only things keeping Harry alive right now. He was getting weak, and he could feel himself starting to slip away. He’d said the cancer wouldn’t beat him, and when he’d been shot he’d thought that was it. He’d believed that was how he would die. Taken out in a blaze of glory, by a single bullet.
But it wasn’t to be. The gunshot was just a flesh wound. He would have survived.
But the cancer had defeated him in the end.
It had gripped him. Taken over every part of his body so that he could barely move, barely breathe.
Two days he’d been in hospital now, and he knew that they were the last two days of his life.
He felt so weak, it was all he could do not to close his eyes and let death take him. But there was just one more thing that he had left to do.
The doctors had placed him on palliative care, so Harry knew that he didn’t have long. He had conserved every last bit of energy so that he could have this one last moment.
He needed to say goodbye to his family. Just the thought alone was painful enough to kill him.
‘Help me sit up a bit more,’ Harry whispered weakly to Raymond, who immediately started fussing over his friend. Pulling Harry’s body farther up the bed, Raymond pressed the buttons on the remote control and raised Harry up so that he was in more of an upright position.
Harry’s mouth was dry; he hadn’t spoken for hours. He had been waiting for all his children to get here so that he could speak for one last time, when all of the family were finally here together.
All of them except Christopher.
Elevated on the bed, Harry looked at each of his children as they stood around his him.
Harry had one more thing left to do, and it was time. ‘Come here, Kelly.’ Harry beckoned Kelly to step in closer so that he could hold her hand.
Walking up to her father, Kelly was already beside herself. An emotional wreck, she had been crying since she’d arrived, though her swollen, puffy eyes were testimony that she’d been crying for even longer than that.
Harry held onto Kelly’s hand tightly.
‘I’m so sorry, Dad, about everything. All those years. I wasted all that precious time. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much.’
Kissing her father’s cheek, Kelly knew that saying goodbye to her dad was one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do. She was riddled with so much guilt, and she wished with all her heart that things had been different. Now, at the end of his life, when time had run out, she’d have given everything she owned just to have one more day with her father.
He’d been right about Terry.
She knew that now.
‘You don’t need to be sorry about a thing, Kelly. I love you too, my darling. You look after my grandbabies, okay?’ Harry smiled weakly. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to leave his children, his grandchildren, but he knew that the decision wasn’t up to him. He had no choice.
Stepping aside to let Evie stand next to their father’s bedside, Kelly put her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs.
Placing her small hand on his, Evie stared into Harry’s eyes. ‘I love you so much, Dad. I’m so scared of losing you . . .’ Evie cried now, and Harry, unable to stop his own tears, felt them escaping down his cheek.
‘Don’t you be scared, baby. Do you remember when you were little and I used to read you that book? You know, the one about the guardian angel?’
Evie nodded now. How could she forget? It had been her favourite. So much so, that she had pestered her dad to read it to her every night that he was home for almost a year. She could still recall it word for word even now.
‘Well that’s what I’ll be. I’ll be your guardian angel, Evie. I’ll never be far away, I promise. I’ll be your angel and you will always be my little girl. Always. Just you remember that.’
Unable to speak, Evie lay her head lightly down on her father’s chest. Breathing in his familiar smell for the very last time, her body shook as she said goodbye.
Seeing how distraught Evie was, Raymond put his arm around her. Consoling her as much as he could, he led her over to the chair at the end of the bed so that Nathan could have his turn at saying goodbye.
>
‘Dad.’ Nathan stepped forward now. At a loss as to what he was supposed to say, he was drained. The last few days had been such a blur, but he knew he had to keep himself together. For the family’s sake. Just like his dad had asked of him.
‘Remember what we spoke about, Nathan?’ Harry whispered now, his body feeling tired, weak.
Nathan nodded.
Until Nathan had confronted his dad about his mother’s death, and about Evie, Nathan had thought that maybe Christopher had been lying, maybe he’d been confused. Nathan had hung onto that theory with everything he had. But Nathan had seen it in his father’s and Raymond’s eyes when he had confronted them both. His father had the excuse of being in pure agony as the reason he could barely look Nathan in the eye as he spoke, but Raymond had nothing to fall back on. And Nathan knew the second that he asked them both that what Christopher said was true.
Just the thought of his mother being murdered pained him down to his core, and the fact that Evie wasn’t his dad’s daughter, it was almost too much to comprehend.
Harry had begged Nathan not to tell the others. Evie could never find out the truth, it would break the girl’s heart. Harry had done everything in his power to try to protect her from ever finding out. He’d even sent her away to boarding school, so that she wouldn’t be around Christopher too much. He was always so scared that someday Christopher would tell her. He could be nasty in that way. He got his kicks out of causing misery to people. Harry could say that about his son, because it was true. Christopher was a law completely unto himself. There were times, especially when Christopher was off his face on drugs, that Harry had felt like he was living on a knife edge. It was like Harry’s house had been made from cards. All neatly stacked up on top of each other keeping them all safe, keeping them all contained inside, until Christopher, at any given point, pulled one of them out from the pile and brought the whole thing toppling down around him.
‘I have your word, Nathan?’ Harry asked now.
Nathan nodded, promising his father that he wouldn’t tell a soul. It was his dying wish, after all. Besides, Nathan never wanted to be the one to break that kind of news to his baby sister. He wouldn’t have even known how to.
The only other person who knew the truth – other than Raymond – was Cassie, and Nathan knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could trust her with his life.
Holding onto his dad’s hand now, Nathan’s head was wrecked from it all. There was so much left unsaid, so much feeling and emotion swimming around inside him, yet he had been left numb. He was still in shock.
‘You’ve been the man of the house since you were knee high to a grasshopper, Nath, always such a good boy. I didn’t tell you enough. Didn’t want you to think I was soft.’ Harry smiled. His chest whistled as he spoke, his voice quieter now. ‘I’m so proud of you, Nathan. So unbelievably proud. Look after your sisters and look after Christopher for me.’ Harry blamed himself for the way Christopher had turned out. All he had ever wanted to do was help him. Protect him. He never wanted Christopher’s life to be tainted by one dreadful, tragic mistake.
It had been tragic.
Harry knew he’d done wrong now. He should never have made Christopher bury everything deep inside himself. The boy had been tormented by it all. So consumed by hate for his mother, for women. And it hadn’t helped that Harry had never once spoken to the boy about it either. He’d been too worried about upsetting the boy by raking it all up. Instead, he’d buried his head.
He didn’t want those few stupid split seconds, when Christopher pushed his mother, to affect the rest of his life. All he’d wanted to do was protect him. But in doing so, he’d let him down. Christopher had turned to drugs, and his paranoia had set in.
It had changed him. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, not really.
Even now, even after everything, Harry still just wanted to protect his kids. No matter what the crime, no matter what the cost.
‘Course I will, Dad.’ Nathan nodded. He hadn’t told his dad everything.
He couldn’t.
It was hard enough that his father was going to go to his deathbed worrying about them all as it was. All their dad needed to know was that Christopher had been detained under the Mental Health Act. He was sick, but in time he would get better.
Nathan knew that he owed his dad that slither of a happy ending before he passed. Even though Nathan knew that was far from the truth. Christopher would never get better, nor would he ever be free.
He’d confessed to killing all those girls the police had been dragging out of the Thames for the past few months. Prostitutes who had been beaten, raped, and then cast aside as if they were just rubbish. Christopher had confessed to all the dreadful, depraved things he had done to them. Blaming the torment and guilt that he’d had trapped inside of him for years. He’d developed such an aversion to women, to their mother, that he’d channelled his hate into hurting them.
Christopher was sick. He wasn’t right in the head.
Nathan would pretend for his dad’s sake that he would look out for Christopher, but the reality was, Nathan would never be seeing his brother again.
Not ever.
He couldn’t.
Harry smiled now, relieved that Nathan would do the right thing when he was gone. Nathan was a good kid, a sensible kid. Then, seeing Cassie standing behind Nathan, Harry winked at her.
‘You look after this beautiful one too, Nathan. The girl is an angel.’
Fighting back her own tears, Cassie bent down and kissed Harry on his cheek.
‘You’re going to be great parents.’
Nathan nodded. ‘Well, I’ve learnt from the best, haven’t I?’ He cried now. He had so much to look forward to. His life with Cassie, and the baby. Yet his dad wouldn’t be there to share any of it with him.
It was heart-breaking.
Stepping up now, Raymond bent down and kissed his best friend on the forehead. A rare sign of affection for the man that he’d spent the past forty-five years being best mates with; they’d been friends since the age of ten. They’d been inseparable. Done everything together. They were as close as brothers and Raymond was going to feel the void that Harry left behind him just as much as the kids were.
To him, they were family.
‘You look after my babies, Raymond. I’m counting on you.’
Raymond nodded, squeezing his friend’s arm. He had already promised that he would, and it was a promise that he intended to live by. He owed so much to Harry. More than his friend would ever know. Looking after the kids was the very least he could do.
It was an honour.
Picking up Harry’s oxygen mask as he heard the dull rattle in the back of Harry’s throat, Raymond tried to place it over his friend’s mouth. But Harry, being such a stubborn sod, refused to take it.
Shaking his head at Raymond, until his friend placed the mask back down on the trolley, Harry nodded at his friend. It was time.
His chest felt like it was being crushed now. He could feel the fluid building up in the back of his throat. His breathing laboured, Harry took one more look around the room. His beautiful babies. All his money, all his possessions, none of it meant jack shit.
Unlike so many people that don’t realise it until it’s too late, Harry felt blessed to have always known that his family had meant everything to him. Worth more than any amount of money or jewels.
Family is all any of us have at the end of the day, and Harry’s family were the only thing of any real value that he was leaving behind.
They were his precious gems, his jewels, his everything.
Closing his eyes, with his children and best friend at his side, Harry Woods slipped away.
Chapter Fifty
‘Daddy!’ Billy and Miley chorused as they ran towards their father and playfully jumped on the end of his bed.
‘Hey, my two litt
le rascals. I’ve missed you.’ Terry smiled at his two children as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, hugging them with his good arm. He hadn’t seen his kids for weeks and just the look of excitement on their faces at seeing him made his heart swell.
Watching as Kelly walked into the room seconds later and nodded at the police guard who stood in the doorway, Terry’s smile grew.
She looked stunning.
Kitted out in a designer dress and having lost a few pounds, Terry felt like he was seeing his wife again for the very first time.
‘Kelly? You came.’ Leaning forward he grimaced as the searing pain shot through his left shoulder.
Kelly didn’t smile back.
She looked heartbroken. Terry could see the dark shadows under her puffy eyes, that she had tried to conceal with make-up, and he knew that she’d been crying.
‘I heard about your dad, babe. I’m so sorry.’ Raymond had already paid Terry a visit. He’d told Terry about Harry’s passing and had a word in his ear about what he was to say to the police about the incident at the bar. Terry knew that he had no choice but to comply.
Now that Harry was no longer around to keep Raymond on a tight leash, Terry was shit scared of what the bloke would do to him if he didn’t.
Terry had agreed to take the rap without causing any grief. The drugs, the assault on the porter – he would hold his hands up to it. And in return, Raymond would let him live.
Apparently Harry and Raymond’s bent copper, Mansell, was on the case of smoothing over the O’Sheas’ shootings with his superiors, so hopefully there would be no reprisals for any of them about that.
As soon as his shoulder was healed Terry knew that he was looking at a lump in prison. And he would do it. If it meant that Kelly and the kids would still be waiting for him when he got out, and Terry could put all this behind him, then so be it.
‘I’m not staying. I just brought you a bag of clothes, some wash things and stuff.’ Kelly shrugged, standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. The last few days had left her feeling numb. Her voice was stone cold towards him, and considering he’d just been shot trying to help in rescuing her, Terry’s intuition was telling him that his wife knew all about him hooking up with Raymond’s tart that night he’d pretended to be mugged. He wouldn’t have put it past Harry to make sure that Kelly knew all about it before he’d popped his clogs.
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