East End 02-East End Diamond

by DS as Dani Oakley Butler

  She was like a miniature doll of a woman, almost childlike, despite her wrinkles.

  “Mr. Carter, you honour us with your presence. It has been a long time.”

  Dave nodded slowly. “It has. I’ve come here today with some information you’ll be very interested in. Although after my reception here today, I’m not sure I should share what I know with you.”

  Mrs. Fang blinked up at him. “I am shocked at your treatment. Please be assured the man responsible will be punished.”

  He knew she was lying, but it was all for appearance’s sake. Besides, he hadn’t come all this way just to walk out now.

  Dave paused for a moment as if he was considering what to do, even though he’d already made up his mind.

  He enjoyed making them wait. “It’s a little dark in here,” he said. “Have you not thought of redecorating, perhaps in a lighter colour?”

  A smile worked on the lips of the wizened old lady. She was no fool and knew exactly what Dave was doing. “I don’t like change, Mr. Carter.”

  “You have a competitor importing into your area. That’s not good for your business. I could tell you who, where and when,” Dave said.

  The old lady looked at him sharply, and Dave guessed they had already known that somebody else was importing their product. They just didn’t know who yet.

  “And what would you like in exchange for this information?” Mrs. Fang asked, and her granddaughter put a hand on her arm, whispering something in her ear.

  Mrs. Fang waved her away and kept her gaze focused on Dave.

  Dave shrugged. “Nothing. I just respect the old ways. The East End will be in chaos if everybody tries to muscle in. I think everybody benefits if you nip it in the bud early.”

  Mrs. Fang nodded slowly. “Very wise, Mr. Carter. You have my sincere thanks. Now, please take a seat. My granddaughter will prepare us tea, and we can get down to business.”

  * * *

  Jimmy and little Georgie were sitting on the curb, watching the outside of Mortons’ club. They were hidden by a parked car and had been sitting there for some time.

  “What are we waiting for?” Georgie asked, hugging his knees to his chest.

  After school, they’d gone to the workshop and washed the cars as usual. Normally they would go and have a game of football afterwards with some of Jimmy’s other friends, or they would go straight to the sweetshop and spend the wages they received for washing the cars. Today, though, Jimmy didn’t want to do anything other than stare at the building across the street, and Georgie was feeling quite confused.

  “That’s my father’s club,” Jimmy said unable to tear his eyes away from the front of Mortons.

  Georgie’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Your father? I thought you didn’t have a dad.”

  “So did I,” Jimmy muttered. “But my nan told me he was my father. She’d been keeping it from me.”

  “Why?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “She said he wasn’t a very nice man.”

  “Is he in there?”

  Jimmy bit his lower lip. “I’m not sure. I know he owns the club. His name is Martin Morton.”

  Georgie blinked. “Are you sure?” Even Georgie had heard of Martin Morton.

  Jimmy nodded. “Do you know him?”

  “Not really. My Dad does. Didn’t he just get out of prison?”

  Jimmy nodded. “Yes, I bet he doesn’t even know about me.”

  Georgie’s eyes widened but before he could ask any more questions, the doors to the club opened, and two men stepped outside along with a young girl. She was a few years older than Jimmy and Georgie.

  Neither boy spoke a word as they waited with bated breath to see if one of these men was Martin Morton. Jimmy had no idea how to find out unless he walked up to the man and asked him. But that wasn’t really how you were supposed to handle things like this. He couldn’t really just go up to the man and ask if he was his father.

  Both the men who had exited the club were now in conversation. Jimmy stared hard at them, convinced one of them must be his father. They were of similar height and similar hair colour, although the man on the left looked more like a film star. The man on the right looked older and a little more haggard. He had a dimple in the middle of his chin, and Jimmy’s fingers travelled up to his own chin, touching the small dimple he had in exactly the same place.

  They were far enough away that he couldn’t hear the conversation clearly, but Jimmy didn’t dare creep any closer.

  The girl with them was obviously bored. She kicked at a stray stone on the pavement and yawned. “Come on, Dad. The shops will be shut soon, and you promised to buy me that dress.”

  The man with the dimple in his chin turned to face his daughter and muttered something Jimmy couldn’t quite hear. He then turned back to the man standing next to him, and they shook hands as if they were saying goodbye.

  As they began to walk away from each other, the man with the film-star good looks turned back and said, “Oh, Martin, I forgot to tell you, Mum’s on the warpath.”

  Jimmy felt like his heart had stopped beating. That was Martin Morton.

  As Martin turned back to look at the other man, Jimmy got a good look at him. He hadn’t really expected his father to look like that. In his mind, his father had looked like a handsome movie star, more like the other man Martin had been talking to.

  He chewed on a fingernail as Georgie anxiously tugged on his sleeve. “Was that him?”

  “I think so,” Jimmy said, staring after them. If that had been Martin Morton, then was the girl with him, Jimmy’s sister? He could have a whole family, relatives he didn’t even know existed.

  He’d promised his nan he would stay away from Martin Morton, but the idea of having a ready-made family with brothers and sisters was incredibly tempting for Jimmy, who had only ever really had his nan.

  “What are you going to do? Are you going to speak to him?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Maybe, but not tonight. I’d better get home, or Linda will start to worry.”

  Jimmy wasn’t very good company as the two boys walked back together. He couldn’t get the thought of his father out of his head. He did trust his nan and knew that she only had his best interests at heart, but it had been a long time since she’d seen Martin Morton.

  Perhaps he was a better man now. Maybe when he realised Jimmy was his son, he would welcome them both into his family with open arms.

  CHAPTER 39

  Babs Morton was on her way to the Pattersons’ boxing club, and she was bubbling with excitement. The shipment had come in last night, and Babs couldn’t wait to take a gander. Of course, it didn’t really matter what the goods were because the Mortons would get their cut regardless.

  Martin had been on at her to let him come along, but Babs had put him well and truly in his place. Tony had tried to smooth things over between them, but Babs was having none of it.

  She was proud of the way she had handled both brothers, but if she was honest, she was very surprised that Martin had backed down so easily. That wasn’t like him at all. It was probably because he was still adjusting to life on the outside, and Babs was more than happy to take advantage of that.

  She turned up the collar of her fur coat. She looked the business today and was dolled up to the nines. She wanted to look the part when she met Gerald Patterson and inspected the goods.

  She turned into Victoria Street and smiled to herself. Things were really starting to work out. She was feeling a lot more positive this morning. Last night, she’d had trouble sleeping. The idea that now Martin was out, it would be much easier for him to find out the role she had played in his incarceration. But as Dave Carter hadn’t yet said anything to him, Babs thought surely she must be in the clear by now. It had been years since she’d spilled Martin’s secrets to Dave. She wished she could put it behind her and hated the thought of anyone holding anything over her, especially Dave Carter.

  She pushed through the double doors and entered Patterson’s
boxing club. As usual, the place smelled of sweaty old socks, and she could hear the sound of men sparring in the gym. She walked through the second set of double doors and stood there imperiously, waiting for someone to notice her.

  Old Knuckles Bancroft was the first to spot her. He called out for Gerald, and as Babs waited, all the men in the gym turned to look at her. She didn’t mind that, at all. It made her feel important.

  She tapped her foot impatiently against the hard floor of the gym, waiting for Gerald. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long.

  He rushed out of the small office at the back and walked briskly towards Babs with his hand outstretched.

  “Mrs. Morton, I see you got my message.”

  Babs inclined her head, regally. “Call me Babs,” she reminded him.

  Gerald nodded. “Would you like to see the goods?”

  Babs nodded impatiently. “That is why I am here. I didn’t turn up to watch a bleeding boxing match, did I?”

  There were a few muffled giggles from the men, who had paused in their workouts to watch the exchange between Babs and Gerald.

  Gerald turned and glared over his shoulder, and the men soon got back to work.

  “If you would like to follow me, Babs. We’re storing the stuff upstairs.”

  Babs followed Gerald to the back of the gym and out through the door that led to a rickety old wooden staircase. The walls were scuffed and dirty, and Babs thought the whole place could do with a lick of paint.

  At the top of the stairs, Gerald opened the door and gestured for Babs to enter the room first. She did so and stepped into a surprisingly bright, large space.

  The floor was covered with wooden crates of varying sizes, all marked with lettering and codes. Probably something to do with the shipping, Babs thought, as she moved closer. The printed codes were funny symbols she didn’t recognise. Babs couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed. There were probably only twenty boxes in total, and she had been expecting something a little more impressive.

  She turned to Gerald, who was watching her closely.

  “Are you going to show me what’s inside, then?” Babs asked.

  Gerald nodded and approached one of the crates that was already open. A crowbar lay on the floor beside it.

  Babs walked closer so she could peer inside as Gerald lifted the lid. Inside the crate, packed in what looked like straw, was a blue and white vase. To Babs, it looked like a cheap bit of china. Feeling disappointed, she picked it up to study it and found that it was surprisingly heavy.

  Gerald was studying her so closely that Babs was starting to feel a little self-conscious. She wasn’t an antiques expert and didn’t have a bleeding clue what a vase like this could be worth. Although her instincts told her its resale value wouldn’t be very high. She had seen better quality stuff down the market. She put the vase back in the crate.

  She was glad Martin hadn’t come. He would be laughing his head off right now if he’d been here and would love to enjoy Babs’ disappointment. All that fuss and the stand-off between the Mortons and the Carters over a few cheap vases, Babs thought. It was hardly worth it.

  “Are they all the same?” Babs asked looking at the other crates. She thought maybe one of the others held something of more value.

  Gerald nodded, and Babs’ shoulders slumped. Well, that was that then. She’d have to report back to Martin and Tony and endure the humiliation.

  “Fine. I’ll expect payment of our cut when you manage to sell them. God knows who will be stupid enough to buy that tat, though.”

  Gerald started to laugh.

  Babs looked up at him sharply. How dare he laugh at her? If there was some sort of joke going on, Babs didn’t see it. It was almost as though he was amused by her disappointment, and Babs didn’t appreciate that, at all.

  “What the bleeding hell are you laughing at?” she demanded.

  “You have no idea, do you? You pressured me into doing a deal with you instead of Dave Carter, and you didn’t even know what we were importing.”

  Babs scowled. She knew what Henry had reported back to her — that he had overheard the Pattersons were fencing stolen goods. No one had said anything else. Babs stared back down at the crates and wondered whether these were some kind of Ming vases from some Chinese dynasty or something.

  Babs nodded at the vase. “Is it valuable then?”

  Her question just made Gerald laugh even harder, and she clenched her teeth together, only just holding back from slapping the cheeky sod around the face.

  “I’m not finding this amusing, Gerald. And if you don’t stop laughing, I’m going to smash that bloody vase right over your head.”

  Gerald struggled to regain his composure as he picked up the vase, and then to Babs’ surprise, he smashed it down hard on the floor.

  “What are you playing at?” Babs asked in disbelief, but as she looked down at the broken vase on the floor, she saw a carefully wrapped packet that had obviously been hidden in the vase.

  She stared at it for a moment and then raised her head to look at Gerald. “What is that?” she asked although she already knew the answer. Drugs. It had to be.

  Gerald’s eyes shone with excitement. “It’s opium, Babs.” He gestured around at the other crates. “A lot of opium.”

  Babs looked around at the crates, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The Mortons had never been involved in drugs before. Sure, they handled black market booze and cigarettes, but drugs were a whole different story. It was a risky venture, but the rewards could be huge, and if they let Gerald take all the risks while they just took their cut as a silent partner, Babs couldn’t really see the harm in it.

  She licked her lips and looked at him eagerly. “How much is it worth?”

  Gerald grinned. “Now, you are talking my language, Babs.”

  Before Gerald and Babs could have a conversation about how much money they would get from the sale of the drugs, there were shouts and a commotion downstairs. Gerald strolled across the large room towards the doorway at the top of the stairs.

  Babs didn’t pay too much attention. She was too busy calculating all the things she could buy when they got their cut. She was inspecting the crates when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She turned, and to her surprise, she saw a young Chinese man appear in the doorway.

  Before Babs could ask Gerald who he was, the Chinese man produced a knife and plunged it into Gerald’s stomach. Babs watched in horror as Gerald staggered backwards.

  When the Chinese man’s eyes focused on her, Babs let out a scream.

  Then all hell broke loose as the place seemed to be overrun with more Chinese men. In the confusion, Gerald had fallen to the floor. The scarlet stain of his blood was slowly spreading across his white shirt. Babs rushed over to him and gripped his hand as he stared up at her, looking terrified.

  The Chinese men seemed far more interested in the crates than they did in Babs, so she leaned down and whispered to Gerald, “I’ll get help.”

  She made a dash for the stairs, and nobody tried to stop her. She moved so fast she nearly tripped twice, and she cursed the fact she’d worn her big fur coat. It was bulky and slowed her down.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and burst into the gym, intending to get out via the main entrance. She knew there was a public phone box just around the corner.

  But before Babs could exit the gym, somebody grabbed her by the hair.

  Babs screamed bloody blue murder and struggled until she saw the glint of a steel blade.

  She froze and saw that the person holding her captive was a young, stunningly beautiful, Chinese woman. Babs wailed in terror. She couldn’t understand a word they were saying, and she panicked.

  “I don’t know who you are. But you’re making a mistake,” she screamed.

  The beautiful Chinese woman said, “Well, I know exactly who you are, Babs Morton, and you are the one who has made the mistake.”

  CHAPTER 40

  T ony Morto
n burst into the flat above the Mortons’ club. Gossip spread like wildfire around the East End, and Tony had just been told that it was all kicking off at Patterson’s boxing club. He didn’t have the full story yet, but he thought he’d better come straight to Martin.

  “There’s something going down at the boxing club, bruv,” Tony said, breathless from running.

  Martin was sitting on the settee, reading the paper with a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. “Really?”

  Martin didn’t seem worried, at all, and Tony thought he might have forgotten that Babs had gone there just an hour ago. He frowned. Perhaps the meeting had been called off, and nobody had told him. Maybe Babs was safe at home.

  “Wasn’t Babs supposed to be there? I legged it round here because I thought she might be in trouble.”

  Martin straightened the crease in his newspaper and appeared unaffected. “Yes, she did say she would be there this morning.”

  Tony shook his head. He couldn’t understand why Martin wasn’t more worried.

  “Aren’t you going to come and see if she needs our help?”

  Martin lowered his paper and gave his brother a steely gaze. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because she is your wife and she might be in danger,” Tony said, starting to lose his temper.

  Martin shrugged and picked up his cup of tea. “She wanted to handle it herself. Babs made that perfectly clear, and I intend to respect her wishes.”

  “This isn’t a game, Martin. Babs could be in serious trouble.”

  Martin smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering. Babs has told me again and again how capable she is. I’m sure she can handle this on her own.”

  Martin raised his newspaper again, and Tony leaned forward to snatch it out of his hands. “Are you really that cold-hearted?”

  Martin’s eyes were full of rage as he stood up and glared at his brother. “If you’re so worried about her, why don’t you go and help, eh?”

  Tony looked at his brother with disgust and then whirled around. “Fine. I’ll go, and I’ll make sure she knows you couldn’t be bothered.”