Studying his wife’s worried face, it occurred to Arthur that his son may have got himself in trouble again. It was becoming a frequent occurrence, and despite the fact Arthur had given him the belt three times this week already, it seemed like the boy’s spirit couldn’t be broken.
“I had a visitor this afternoon,” his wife said. Then she lowered her voice and moved even closer, whispering in Arthur’s ear, “From Dave Carter.”
Arthur’s eyes widened, and he felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at his wife. “Dave Carter?” Even to his own ears, Arthur’s voice sounded panicked.
His wife nodded, and her eyes darted from the hallway to the front room, where Arthur guessed their son was hiding. If the boy had gotten them into trouble with Dave Carter, hiding wasn’t going to help him.
Arthur was positive he had done nothing to upset Dave Carter. He had lived in the East End all of his life, and despite the rumours the police put out, Arthur had never considered the major players in the area to be a problem. In his opinion, they kept the toe-rags in line. An honest, hard-working person didn’t have to concern himself with the likes of Dave Carter. A normal law-abiding family didn’t have anything to worry about as long as they were careful not to tread on any toes.
Arthur scratched his head, puzzled. For the life of him, he couldn’t think why Dave Carter would want to speak to him. It had to be a mistake.
Yes, that was it. It must be some kind of misunderstanding, Arthur thought, and then he narrowed his eyes as the penny dropped.
If he hadn’t done anything to anger Dave Carter, and he was sure that his wife wouldn’t have either, that only left his son, Ronnie.
Arthur tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth.
Ronnie better not have done anything stupid. Arthur would bleeding kill him.
“Did he tell you what it was about?” Arthur demanded as he strode into the front room and glared down at his son, who was sitting on the floor, pretending to do his homework.
The boy looked up as his father entered the room. He looked like butter wouldn’t melt, but Arthur knew different.
His wife had followed him into the front room, but she was clearly uncomfortable discussing the matter in front of their son. The daft cow still thought the sun shone out of his backside. Unfortunately, she was about to get rudely awakened.
“Well?” Arthur demanded, turning away from his son and looking at his wife. “What did Dave Carter say?”
His wife swallowed nervously, her gaze darting between Arthur and her son. Finally, she said, “He told me he would like to talk to us both about a problem concerning his son.”
Oh, no. Arthur clapped a hand to his forehead. He’d been right. Ronnie must have somehow gotten himself mixed up with the Carters.
His fingers itched to lay into the boy, but instead, he said, “What did you do, Ronnie?”
His son was still sitting on the floor, cross-legged, and as he looked up at his parents, he looked the picture of innocence. Pah, that was a joke, Arthur thought.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything.”
“Something to do with Dave Carter’s son. Does that ring any bells?” Arthur asked, studying his son carefully for his reaction.
The boy’s cheeks flushed and immediately Arthur knew they were in deep trouble. Whatever Ronnie had done, it was going to take a lot of grovelling on Arthur’s part to make it up to Dave Carter.
“Do you realise what you have done? You have brought Dave bleeding Carter to my door.”
Ronnie got to his feet and shrugged. He was trying to act tough and look unaffected, but his hands were trembling and his knees were practically knocking together.
“Dave Carter isn’t a big deal, Dad. They call him the greengrocer gangster, and with all your boxing experience–”
Ronnie’s words tipped Arthur over the edge. With a loud yell, he reached forward and swiped the boy around the ear. “You stupid little boy! They call him the greengrocer because he doesn’t look like your typical gangster, but he is the most dangerous one of the lot! Any fool could tell you that.”
Ronnie ducked as he tried to avoid another wallop from his father, and his mother rushed forward, trying to separate the pair of them. “No, Arthur. Keep calm. Mr. Carter could be here at any moment.”
As soon as the words left his wife’s mouth, there was an ominous knock at the front door, and Arthur felt his stomach drop down to his boots. How the hell was he going to manage to get out of this one?
* * *
Dave Carter stood outside the front door of the Patterson’s house and waited for them to answer. He’d let some time pass between the bullying incident and his visits to each of the parents. If he’d learned one thing in his life, it was to not take revenge in the heat of the moment. Revenge was always so much more effective when you acted with a cool head.
Dave had been so furious after finding poor little Georgie in that state, he’d wanted to tear the boys limb from limb. It wasn’t easy, but he had forced himself to wait.
The front door opened, and he saw a short man with broad shoulders and long arms. His cheeks were flushed, and his wide eyes stared up at Dave.
Dave didn’t even have to say anything. The man was terrified already.
Dave had carried out meticulous research on this family after finding out Ronnie Patterson was the ringleader of the gang who’d bullied Georgie.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Arthur?”
Arthur nodded quickly and stood aside, opening the door wide so Dave could enter.
“Cat got your tongue?” Dave said with a smirk as he stepped into the narrow hall.
Arthur still didn’t speak as he continued to stare at Dave, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
After a moment, Arthur’s wife rushed forward. “Well, don’t just stand there, Arthur. Invite Mr. Carter into the front room. Please, Mr. Carter, let me take your coat.”
“Thank you.” Dave shrugged off his overcoat and held it out and then he followed Arthur into the front room.
Dave felt his chest tighten as he clapped eyes on the little bastard who had been tormenting Georgie. He looked much smaller now as he cowered up against the fireplace.
Dave stared at him until the boy broke eye contact and stared down at the floor.
“I’ll just make us a nice cup of tea,” Arthur’s wife said, wringing her hands anxiously, and then she disappeared off into the kitchen.
Dave didn’t bother to sit down. He walked across to the fire and put a hand on the old mantelpiece, which caused young Ronnie Patterson to flee to his father’s side.
“There seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding, Mr. Carter,” Arthur said, licking his lips nervously.
Dave chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no, there’s been no misunderstanding, Arthur.”
Arthur’s face paled even further, and then he smacked his son on the side of the head.
“He’s sorry, aren’t you? Tell Mr. Carter how sorry you are.”
The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and his lower lip wobbled. Like most bullies, he didn’t enjoy it when the shoe was on the other foot.
He lowered his head and then said quietly, “I’m very sorry, Mr. Carter. It won’t happen again.”
And then the boy turned and ran from the room, and Dave could hear him crying in the kitchen as his mother tried to console him.
With a cold smile, he turned back to Arthur.
“W…What are you going to do to him, Mr. Carter? He’s a little tyke, but deep down, he’s not a bad kid. I know he did wrong but–”
“Arthur, I’m not a monster. I don’t beat up children.” Dave took a step towards Arthur, who was now shaking and trembling. “Don’t look so frightened. I’m sure your boy is genuinely sorry, and he will never touch my son again, will he?”
Arthur shook his head frantically. “Absolutely not. I can guarantee you he will never even look at your son in the wrong way again.”<
br />
Dave smiled. “Well, there we go then. It’s nice to have that matter sorted, isn’t it?”
Arthur nodded and swallowed hard. He had a confused look on his face as if he couldn’t understand why Dave Carter was letting him off quite so easily.
“Unfortunately, though, we can’t just leave it at that. As much as I would like to. You see, I can’t just let him get away with it, can I? Somebody has to pay for what he did, and as I don’t hurt children, I’m afraid it’s going to be you that has to pay, Arthur.”
Arthur’s legs gave way under him, and he flopped back into his armchair unable to stay upright.
He gave a petrified low moan as Dave cracked his knuckles.
“Although…” Dave cocked his head to one side and looked at Arthur as if he was considering something. “Perhaps we could come to some arrangement.”
Arthur leapt upon those words as though they were a lifeline. “An arrangement? Yes! Whatever you say. An arrangement is a great idea.”
Dave smiled and then walked over to the armchair opposite the one Arthur was sitting in.
He sat down, turned to Arthur with a smile and said, “Your brother owns the boxing club on Victoria Street, doesn’t he?”
Arthur blinked a couple of times. That was a change in direction he hadn’t been expecting. Why would Dave Carter be interested in the boxing club? Unless he had discovered their secret. He gulped.
Although Arthur couldn’t understand how Dave’s mind worked, he had a terrible feeling he’d just jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
CHAPTER 10
Gary Carter was feeling on top of the world as he sat at the centre of a group of admiring punters. He was perched on a barstool in The Lamb public house and was drinking heavily. Having an audience, helped boost Gary’s ego no end. With a brother like Dave, sometimes Gary felt a little trapped in the big man’s shadow. He loved his brother, absolutely adored him, but sometimes it wasn’t easy being the younger, less successful Carter brother.
The people gathered around him were listening to his stories avidly. They couldn’t get enough of him and argued over who would be next to buy him a drink.
It had been a struggle, but Gary had managed to stay away from the cocaine for the last month or so. To fill the void in his life left by the addictive drug, he had turned more heavily to alcohol. He had always been a social drinker, and never drunk by himself during the day, but at night, alcohol made him the life and soul of the party.
“You never did!” A middle-aged woman called Denise said in response to Gary’s latest tale.
All right, so Gary had exaggerated just a little bit. But it was what his audience wanted. They loved to live vicariously through his stories, and Gary was happy to oblige.
“I did, and that’s not all. You should have seen his face when he saw the bucket of fish!” Garry said, delivering the punchline to his adoring audience.
The people surrounding him exploded with laughter, and Denise was forced to wipe away the tears streaming down her cheeks as she leaned on her husband’s shoulder.
Gary beamed happily until a reedy voice piped up, “I hope your brother is all right, Gary. I heard his business is on the downturn.”
“Who said that?” Gary demanded, twisting around on the barstool.
A short man with a thatch of dark, curly hair stepped forward. “I didn’t mean any offence. I think the world of your brother.”
Gary tried to focus on the man. He didn’t recognise him, but the sheer quantity of beer he had consumed that night made it hard to think clearly.
“I’ll have you know my brother is doing fantastically. He is going from strength to strength.”
The curly haired man seemed to sway in front of Gary, but Gary put that down to the booze.
“I heard Martin Morton might be getting out soon. That will cause him some problems.”
Gary’s lip curled up in disgust. “That won’t bother Dave. He’s a much better man than Martin Morton will ever be.”
The rest of the crowd quietened down a little and took steps back, as they sensed the atmosphere change between the two men.
Gary jerked forward, trying to get off the barstool, but he was so drunk, he stumbled a little. “I think you need to be taught a lesson,” Gary said.
The dark-haired man laughed and slipped away before Gary, who was far too inebriated to follow through on his threat, could do anything.
He turned to Bob, who was propping up the bar next to him, “Who was that cheeky bastard?”
“Oh, he’s no one to worry about, Gary. He was just trying to wind you up.”
Gary nodded at the barmaid and ordered another beer. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Of course, he doesn’t,” Old Bob agreed as he took another sip of his pint.
“Dave is a bloody genius when it comes to running his firm. He’s got plans for another little project. Patterson’s boxing club. Have you heard of it?”
Old Bob turned slightly on his barstool, so he was fully facing Gary. “What does Dave want with a boxing club?”
Gary grinned and then tapped the side of his nose. “That’s why Dave is so clever. He spots the opportunities that pass everybody else by.”
Old Bob frowned and looked a little confused, but he didn’t bother to press Gary. He’d spent his whole life in the East End and had learned the less he knew about certain matters, the better.
But Gary couldn’t keep it to himself. He leaned forward, resting his elbows heavily on the polished surface of the bar. “It isn’t just a boxing club.”
Old Bob cocked his head to one side. “It isn’t?”
Gary shook his head and grinned again. “It’s just the front. They’re moving stolen goods through it, and Dave is going to get in on the action. Smart, eh?”
Old Bob looked suitably impressed, and Gary happily went back to drinking his fresh pint. Unfortunately for Gary, Old Bob wasn’t the only one listening.
* * *
Henry the Hand, so-called because he had lost a couple of fingers in a factory accident years ago, picked up his pint and smiled. It was fascinating the things you could hear in a boozer once alcohol had loosened people’s tongues.
What Gary Carter had just disclosed was interesting. Very interesting. And if Henry wasn’t mistaken, he was sure the Mortons would be able to use it to their advantage.
Henry finished off his pint and stood to leave. He could have left the bar without anyone noticing, but he couldn’t resist letting Gary know he had overheard.
He paused by the bar and said, “Hello, Gary.”
As soon as Gary clapped eyes on him, his mouth dropped open, and he grew pale. He immediately knew he had screwed up. That much was obvious from the expression on his face.
Henry grinned. He wished he could be a fly on the wall when Dave Carter found out his brother had been blabbing his mouth off.
* * *
Babs drummed her long, red fingernails impatiently on the table as she waited for Martin in the prison waiting room.
As the prisoners were led in by a prison guard, Babs looked out for Martin. He’d sent another visiting order and said he needed to see her urgently.
She would have preferred to have waited to visit him until after she’d seen the books. Tony had finally agreed to let her have a look at them, and he was going to deliver them tonight, so she could look through the club’s figures and try to work out what was going on.
She’d hoped to unmask whoever had been cheating them and then present her evidence to Martin. She figured that if she managed to break the news at the same time as telling him she was sending the children to boarding school, Martin might be a little distracted and less likely to blow his top.
But when she got the summons from Martin, Babs didn’t have any choice but to show up. Even in here, the bastard held all the real power. Tony was like a limp fish in comparison. Babs couldn’t motivate him to do anything unless she threatened to go running to Martin.
> Not for the first time, Babs thought the world would be a better place if it were run by women.
Martin sauntered up to the table, and Babs struggled to raise a smile.
“Hello, darling,” Martin said easily, kissing Babs on the cheek. “You’re looking smashing.”
Babs inclined her head at the compliment. She’d always thought it was important to make the best of herself. She still kept her hair dyed a bright shade of blonde, almost platinum, and kept it in curlers all night, even though the blasted things dug into her scalp and made it hard to sleep. And she never left the house without a full face of make-up. Today she was wearing three of the rings Martin had given her, along with some sapphire earrings and a large gold chain. She also wore her fur coat, which was her pride and joy although it was nearly ten years old now.
It was hot in the prison waiting room, but Babs was damned if she was going to take her coat off. When she visited Martin, she was determined to look the part of his glamorous wife.
“What was so urgent?” Babs asked. “I was only here last week.”
“I missed you, didn’t I?” Martin said smoothly, and Babs knew he was lying. She’d been married to the man for nearly twenty years. And she was nobody’s fool.
“Cigarette?” Martin asked, and Babs delved into her bag and pulled out a packet of fags, pushing them across the table to Martin.
After Martin lit up and had taken his first drag, he said, “I wanted to ask you if you had seen Big Tim lately?”
Irritated at being dragged all across London to talk about Big Tim again, Babs snapped, “No. I haven’t seen him. Not for ages anyway.”
Why was Martin so worried about Tim? He never asked about any of the other men. After Martin had been sent away, most of the crew had stuck by them and started working for Tony as if it was business as usual. Red-haired Freddie was his right-hand man, and Henry the Hand was as faithful as ever.
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