by Anne Bennett
‘Well, now you will have to think of another way to earn enough to pay me back,’ Collingsworth said. ‘And remember, I am not a patient man.’
‘I can’t pay you what I haven’t got.’
‘You are not listening to me, Morris, and I don’t like that,’ Collingsworth snarled. ‘You pay me what you owe or I turn you over to my heavies and then you will be lucky if you ever work again.’
He let this sink in, then went on, ‘There is a way around this, because if you kill the girl, and in a way that can never be traced back to me, the debt will be cancelled.’
Ray gasped. Outside the door, Will, who was eavesdropping, felt his blood turn to ice.
‘I haven’t ever killed anyone, Edwin, never,’ Ray said. ‘Or even come anywhere near it.’
‘So?’
‘What if I make a mess of it?’
‘Then I suggest that you get on a slow boat to China,’ Collingsworth said with a sardonic smile. ‘Because wherever you try running to, I will seek you out and hunt you down, and make you wish that you had never been born. I do hope that I have made myself clear?’
Will melted away from the door as Ray opened it. He went out into the street, his senses reeling. He could barely believe that he had just heard two men discussing killing a young girl with so little feeling. He had never listened in to what went on behind Collingsworth’s door before, preferring to keep well out of the man’s business, and he wished to God he hadn’t listened that day either, but finding his boss the way he had had made him curious.
And now he had heard they intended to kill a young girl and in cold blood for the simple reason that she had objected to Collingsworth shagging her. He could hardly blame her, for the man had surely been at the back of the queue when good looks were dished out. He was also a nasty piece of work and likely old enough to be her grandfather. No wonder the poor girl had fought like a tiger. The whole thing was obscene, grotesque.
All the way back to the flat, Ray was raging. He wanted to tear Molly limb from limb. Over three weeks he had kept her and fed her and cared for her, waiting for Collingsworth to return from wherever he had been, knowing he would pay well for a virgin. And then when Collingsworth had taken his pleasure, Ray would sell the girl on to Vera and pick up a wad of money to keep him until the next girl chanced along.
All he had asked Molly to do was toe the line, to repay the way he had looked after her so well, but she had screwed up every bloody thing. And yet the thought of what he had to do to prevent Collingsworth’s heavies reducing him to pulp frightened the life out of him. He wasn’t averse to giving a girl a good hiding if she stepped out of line, but killing – that was a different league altogether and not one he was keen on joining either.
Christ, whatever way you looked at it, it was a bloody mess and it was all Molly’s fault.
Molly felt a flood of relief when she heard Ray come in, confident that he would know what to do. She looked up as he entered the kitchen and watched him survey her face.
Molly had never seen such a look in Ray’s eyes before, though she recognised that it was not sympathy or pity for the mess Collingsworth had made of her. Even so, she was unprepared for what he said.
‘Well, I just hope that you are bloody proud of yourself.’
Molly was totally confused. ‘Ray, I …’
Ray dragged her to her feet by the neck of her nightdress, and with his face inches from hers, he ground out, ‘I told you to be nice, didn’t I?’ He gave Molly a shake. ‘Didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but, Ray, I tried, but he wanted to go with me, you know. He tried to make me … well, you know.’
‘Well, of course he did, you silly cow. That is what he came for,’ Ray snarled at her, throwing her from him with such force she had to catch hold of the table she fell against to steady herself.
She was hardly aware of this, however, because she could scarcely believe the words that Ray had flung at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I mean, my dear, stupid bitch, that Collingsworth wanted a virgin and I had one that he paid dearly for.’
‘I can’t believe that I am hearing this,’ Molly said, aghast. ‘You know that I wouldn’t do anything like that. Surely to God you didn’t expect …’
‘But I did,’ Ray said wearily. ‘Fool that I was, I did. I told you to be very nice and I asked you if you knew what I meant and you said yes.’
‘I didn’t mean …’ Molly began through the tears seeping from her eyes.
‘I told you to do whatever he wanted, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘And what did you do, but bugger all except near kill the man.’
‘Is he … is he all right?’
‘Yeah, no thanks to you,’ Ray said. ‘I suppose I don’t have to tell you that you are not his favourite person at the moment. In fact if you were before him this minute he would kill you with his bare hands and I wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.’
Molly shuddered in sudden fear of this man for the first time. ‘Don’t say things like that.’
‘Even if they are true?’
‘But they are not. Normal people don’t go on like this.’
‘Collingsworth isn’t normal. Even on your limited acquaintance you must have been aware of that.’
‘I don’t know a thing about that man, nor do I want to,’ Molly said. ‘But I thought I knew you, that you cared.’
Ray gave a humourless laugh and his eyes glittered with dislike. ‘Cared?’ he said sardonically. ‘Cared for you, my dear? Wrong again, I am afraid. To me you were just a commodity, something to sell to make money from. I wouldn’t touch you with a bargepole.’
Molly was shaken by Ray’s words and she felt cold and lost inside. ‘And I thought that you were just being a gentleman,’ she said sadly.
Ray shook his head. There was no danger in telling her now. He didn’t intend to leave her alive long enough to pass it on to anyone. ‘No, I am not a gentleman, my dear. I prefer gentlemen.’ He laughed at the confusion in her eyes and went on, ‘To have sex with, I prefer men. Or to be more specific, boys, and the younger the better.’
Molly was so appalled that her lips retracted from her mouth in an expression of total contempt.
‘Don’t you sodding well look at me like that, you bloody excuse for a woman,’ he yelled at her. Then his punch knocked her to the ground and the kick rendered her unconscious.
Ray hauled her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. He could finish her off he thought, put a pillow over her head now, and it would all be over. He actually picked up the pillow, but couldn’t bring himself to do it and he put it down again. He needed Charlie, because he would have no qualms about finishing her off when he knew what she had done, and he’d have some idea where to hide the body too.
He checked his watch. He wouldn’t find Charlie at home at this time, though he had no idea where he would be either. He probably would not be home till the morning. Ray yawned suddenly, worn out with the events of the evening, and decided to make for his own place and grab a bit of kip.
It was as he was about to go out the front door that he remembered the money belt they had taken from Molly that he had put in a drawer and forgotten about. He took it out, opened it and stuffed all the notes and coins into his pocket before going out of the door, locking it behind him.
Will was still walking the streets, too churned up to return home, and when he saw Ray coming towards him from the direction of Collingsworth’s flat he wondered if Ray had killed the girl already. He had to know, and so though he would far rather have spread Ray’s length on the cobbles, he greeted him.
‘You still about?’ Ray said.
‘Yeah, but I’m off home now,’ Will answered, struggling to keep the disgust for the man from his voice. ‘Where you making for?’
‘Back to my own flat for a bit of a kip,’ Ray said. He had no idea that Will had listened in to the conversation he’d had with Collingsworth and yet he knew that it had been the
chauffeur who had found the man at the bottom of the stairs because Collingsworth himself had told him that much, so he said now, ‘Bet you would like to know what it was all about, that shindig?’
Will shrugged. ‘If you like,’ he said, and added with a grim smile, ‘I have found Mr Collingsworth in many strange places, but that was about the most weird and, of course, being stark naked as well put the tin hat on it, as it were.’
‘Was he naked as well?’ Ray said incredulously. ‘Christ, he dain’t tell me that.’
‘I bet he didn’t,’ Will commented. ‘Well, what was it all about?’
He listened to the potted version of events that Ray fed him, but he made no mention of getting rid of the girl. What he did say, though, was, ‘Course, I was bloody mad, furious. I mean, what did she think she was there for? I gave her a good smacking, though Collingsworth had made a bloody mess of her first anyway. I knocked her clean out in the end and now I have locked her in the bedroom to stew. After I have grabbed a bit of shut-eye, I will have to run Charlie to ground because there is a little job I want him to do with me.’
Will knew exactly what that job was, and he felt sick. He couldn’t stand the man’s company any longer. ‘I’m away.’ he said. ‘I am bushed and chilled to the marrow.’
He swung away from Ray as he spoke. He knew he would have to walk home, for there were no trams running at that time of night, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had the long tramp home after a day’s work. Anyway, that night he almost felt glad of it, and hoped that by the time he reached home his mind would have stopped its leaping about and allow him to sleep.
His house was in darkness and he was glad of it as he tiptoed up the stairs. In the light from the landing he surveyed his sleeping wife, with her cheeks flushed pink and her brown hair spread out on the pillow, noting how sleep made her look so very vulnerable. As he slipped in beside her he thought of that young girl, just as vulnerable, who was unaware what was being planned for her and felt his whole body recoil in distaste.
He faced the fact that he wasn’t totally innocent either and it was no good pretending he was. Though he hadn’t known when he began working for Collingsworth, he was soon aware that Ray would pick up runaways at bus and train stations and then sell them on to the knocking shop, after keeping them at the flat, doping them up with the white powders and gin till they were so addicted to the stuff they would do what they were told, because if they didn’t their supplies were withheld.
He had never seen the girls concerned and had always told himself that it was none of his business. Now he listened to his wife’s even and untroubled breathing and, though his eyes were gritty with tiredness, he was far too emotionally charged to sleep. He knew that not far away this dreadful thing was going to take place and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
NINETEEN
Will turned off the alarm before it rang, because he had been just lying awake anyway.
Betty opened her eyes sleepily as he was dressing by the light of the lamp and said, ‘You look awful.’
‘Thanks,’ Will said with a sardonic smile. ‘I love you too.’
Betty sat up in the bed, awkwardly, because of her bulging stomach, and supported herself on one elbow as she scrutinised her husband. ‘I mean it, Will, really,’ she said. ‘Your eyes are all bloodshot and you have grey bags underneath them.’
‘Don’t worry. I didn’t sleep too well, that’s all. I had things on my mind.’
‘I’ll say you did. You tossed and turned so much you kept waking me up.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Will said. ‘Why don’t you snuggle down now? Get the sleep in while you can.’
Betty ignored that and commented instead, ‘You were in powerfully late last night.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Doesn’t that man think that you have a life of your own?’
‘You know what the rich are like as well as I do,’ Will said. ‘Never a thought in their head for the people that work for them.’
‘Yeah, well, I think it is a bit much expecting you to go in so early this morning when you were so late last night. I mean, it’s barely six o’clock.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll live,’ Will said, anxious to reassure his wife and be on his way. ‘And the wages are good, you have to admit. We are going to need every penny before too long, as you well know. Now, do you want me to make you a cup of tea before I go, or are you going to grab a bit of shut-eye?’
‘Hmm, I know one thing, Will Baker, and that is that you are a dab hand at changing the subject when it suits you,’ Betty said.
‘Tea or not, then?’
‘No,’ Betty said. ‘I will give it a miss. I’ll likely be asleep again before it’s cool enough to drink.’
‘Come on, then,’ Will said solicitously. ‘Snuggle down and I’ll tuck you in and you’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’
With a sigh and a smile, Betty did as Will bade her.
As he gazed at her lovely, dark brown eyes, he felt his heart turn over with love for his young wife, carrying their much-wanted child. He would die if anything happened to her. Maybe that young girl, about to end her life by Ray’s hand, had been loved by someone too once upon a time, in an earlier and less depraved life.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Betty asked in sudden alarm, seeing the discomfort Will was feeling flood over his face.
‘Nothing,’ Will said. ‘What could be wrong?’ He kissed his wife gently on the lips and went on, ‘Come on now. I have to be on my way and you have to look after my son and heir, so that he is born fine and healthy.’
Betty said no more but she knew that something was troubling her husband. She could read him like a book. Worry lurked behind his soft grey eyes, furrowed his brow and brought a tight look to his ashen face. She heard him moving about in the kitchen, the pop of the gas as he put the kettle on and the rattle of crockery as he got some breakfast for himself. He didn’t take long over it, and only a few minutes later she heard him go out and she knew he would be making for the tram. She snuggled down in the bed, closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she was so tormented about what could be wrong with Will that it drove all drowsiness away. In the end she gave a sigh, got to her feet wearily and, shivering with cold, began to dress quickly.
Collingsworth had taken to his bed on doctor’s orders and wouldn’t be needing the services of a chauffeur that day at least, Will was told at his employer’s door. He stood in the road outside, knowing he could just go home now and pretend he knew nothing. Betty would be glad to see him – he had little enough free time to spend with her – and by tomorrow it would all be over and things could go on as they always had.
On the other hand, could he just ignore what he had overheard and which he knew to be true? Could he go home to his young wife and enjoy himself, knowing that it was that young girl’s last day on earth? And how in God’s name would he ever live with himself if he did?
There wasn’t a choice in this, he knew. There was just the one right thing to do, and he made for home, where he had a set of ladders in the shed.
Betty had poked the fire into life, shaking some nuggets of coal onto it, and had put the kettle on when she heard a noise outside. She turned off the light, lifted the blackout curtains aside and peered through the glass, but she could see little, though she had the idea that she could make out a vague grey shape moving around.
She knew she wouldn’t rest until she found out if there was someone in her yard who shouldn’t be there, so taking her coat from the hook behind the door, and armed with her large shielded torch, she opened the kitchen door stealthily and stepped outside. When she suddenly turned the torch on, it lit up her husband in the doorway of the shed, carrying the ladders. She heard him give a groan of dismay as he spotted her watching him.
‘Will, what are you doing home? And what on earth do you want with the ladders? Are you going to clean the windows in the dark, or what?’
‘Ssh,’ Will hissed urgently. The last thi
ng he wanted was to have his Betty involved in this sordid business, but he realised he owed her an explanation. If she then decided the risk was too great, that would be that.
‘We need to talk,’ he said.
‘Yes, we do,’ Betty answered grimly as she turned and made for the house. ‘And, I would say, about time too.’
Once inside, Betty saw just how shaken her husband was. She made tea, and put a cup before each of them.
‘Well?’ she asked finally.
Will ran his fingers through his sandy hair distractedly. ‘I hardly know where to start.’
‘Well, you could start by telling me what you want ladders for at this hour of the morning, and it dark as pitch out there?’
Will shook his head. ‘No. Oh, by Christ, it goes much further back than that. God, Betty, you don’t know the half of it.’
‘Nor likely to either if you don’t tell me.’
‘I’m afraid.’
‘Of me?’
‘Yes,’ Will said. ‘I am afraid that you will despise me when you hear some of the things I have done.’
Betty looked at him amazed. ‘Will, I love you. You are my husband and the father of our child. I would never despise you.’ She reached for his hand across the table and held it tight. ‘Tell me what it is that is distressing you so much,’ she said. ‘I have the feeling that you have kept it to yourself long enough.’
Will started at the very beginning, with meeting Ray in the pub that night, though Betty already knew some of that. She knew nothing of the rest, though, and listened in horrified amazement as Will spoke about his slide to the edge of the corrupt and perverted life that his employer and those around him enjoyed.
His ravaged eyes, racked with guilt, looked into hers and he said, ‘Normal rules don’t apply to these people, nor does the law. And if someone gets in the way, they get rid of them.’
‘Get rid of them?’ Betty repeated. ‘You mean ...?'
Will drew one finger across his neck and Betty, hardly able to believe it, said, ‘Kill them? They kill people?’ She removed her hand from Will’s and looked him full in the face as she said earnestly, ‘Tell me that you have had no hand in that?’