She loathed the cruel way Leroy hung around until they had finished their meal, studying her across the dining table as she struggled to get through the food. It wasn’t until he had eaten his last morsel that he announced he was going out, and taking the dog with him. Thankful for this reprieve, she sank to her knees and let the tears flood out. It took a good half hour until she was calm enough to think about her next step.
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Saturday 8th June 1991 - evening
Rita was becoming accustomed to desperate late night phone calls giving her bad news, but this latest one was the worst yet. Jenny was in a terrible state and she kept screaming, “Winston’s dead.”
A cold fear gripped Rita on hearing these words.
“No! Shit, no. I don’t believe it!”
Despite the shock, Rita tried to think rationally. Jenny needed her. Was she alone? Was Leroy there? Had he done it? Was Jenny in danger? Think, think. What to do. What to say.
“Jenny, Jenny, calm down. I know it’s a shock but I need to know what’s happened. Was it at your house?”
“No,” Jenny whimpered.
“Where then? Did Leroy do it?”
“Outside his house. On the street, last night,” she wailed. “I don’t know, he might have.”
“OK. Is Leroy there now?”
“No.”
“Right, hang on, I’m coming round.”
Rita knew she wouldn’t get much sense out of Jenny over the phone as she was still in a state of shock. Her sisterly instincts told her she needed to be there. Yansis was by her side. He had overheard the phone call and was asking questions.
“Winston’s dead,” she garbled. “She thinks Leroy might have done it. Come on, we need to get round there.”
Yansis stopped her reaching for her jacket, “Wait a minute, Rita; you need to let the police deal with this. If Leroy has killed Winston, then he is a very dangerous man.”
“She doesn’t know if he’s done it. She only thinks so, and he’s not there at the moment. It happened last night outside Winston’s house. I need to find out more. I need to speak to her. Yansis, please! Jenny could be in danger. I need to be there with her. She’s in a right state.”
“Rita, why do I let you talk me into these things? It is madness.”
Despite his protests, he was already getting ready to take Rita to Jenny’s house.
“Should I ring the police?” asked Julie, who had overheard their conversation.
“No, I need to find out what’s happened first,” Rita shouted, on her way out.
Within fifteen minutes they had arrived. Thankfully Leroy was not yet home, but Jenny was still inconsolable. Rita marched over to Jenny and flung her arms around her. Over Jenny’s shoulder Rita watched Yansis’s anxious face casting nervous glances at the clock, and knew that she would have to push sentiment aside. She released her grip on Jenny, holding her by the shoulders and staring into her face.
“Jenny, I need you to tell me what’s happened before Leroy gets back.”
But it was no use. Jenny was so emotional that she had become incoherent. The more she tried to speak, the more worked up she became, her words intermingled with loud, pitiful yelps.
“It’s him … I know it is … he wasn’t bothered … he wasn’t bothered … he was … wasn’t … both … er … ed.”
Sensing that she was becoming hysterical, and only just able to keep her own emotions in check, Rita gripped her shoulders and started shaking her.
“Jenny, calm down!”
“He … wasn’t … both…
Slap! The sharp smack to the side of Jenny’s face brought her to her senses, and she stared back at Rita, astonished.
“Sorry, Jenny, but you were becoming hysterical. I need you to stay calm. I want you to tell me what happened, before Leroy comes home. We need to find out whether he’s a danger to you.”
Then it occurred to Rita to give Jenny a cup of tea for the shock. In fact, she could do with one herself, and a cigarette to settle her nerves. When Rita had calmed Jenny down, she told them everything that had happened. It was a bit rushed because she kept saying she was frightened of Leroy coming back home, but Rita and Yansis managed to get the story out of her.
Hearing from Jenny how she had reacted to the news of Winston’s death, made Rita realise just how different they were. Unlike Jenny, she would have hit out if someone had casually announced that the man she loved was dead. There was no way she wouldn’t, no matter what the consequences of her reaction might have been.
And if she believed that the person bringing the news was responsible for the killing, her anger would have consumed her. She recognised that, in this respect, she hadn’t changed much. Rita still had her fiery temper; she had just learnt to control it more as she had got older. But if anybody should ever hurt somebody she loved, her rage would know no bounds.
Once they had heard the full tale, Rita tried to persuade Jenny to get out of the house as soon as possible but, to her surprise, Jenny resisted.
“What if he comes back and catches me packing? He’ll go mad. He could be back any minute. I think he’s only gone to his mam’s. He hasn’t been staying out much lately, not since, you know … that guy died.
“Anyway, where can I go, Rita? If I go to my mam and dad’s, he’ll find me. Julie won’t want me there. If I go to any of my mates, he’ll find me. I can’t afford to stay at a hotel or guest house while I’m waiting to have the baby. Anyway, even if I find a guest house, look at me. I’m pregnant! I’ll need to go to the hospital. He knows that. He’ll be hanging around the hospitals when the baby’s due.”
“Find a guest house in another bloody city then!”
“What, and have the baby all on my own? I can’t do that, Rita. Anyway, even if he killed Winston, he’s not going to do anything to me. If he was going to kill me, he’d have done it already. For one thing, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to the baby. Believe it or not, it means a lot to him.”
Those words hit home. Rita could understand the importance a lot of men placed on fatherhood.
“Not only that,” Jenny continued. “He’s punishing me in another way. Having to look at his mean face every day, knowing he’s probably done it. Not being able to grieve. Having to hide how I feel about the man I love. Having to pretend …”
Rita interrupted, sensing that Jenny was on the verge of hysteria again.
“OK, OK. I understand, Jenny. Now, listen to me. You won’t be on your own. I’ll be with you when you have the baby, and I’ll look after you. Then, as soon as the baby’s born, we’ll go to Greece like we planned, alright? In the meantime, you need to get out of here. Don’t worry about the cost of a guest house; me and Yansis will pay. Your safety is more important. Do you hear me, Jenny? You have to get out!”
Rita was relieved when she finally got through to Jenny. She couldn’t persuade her to leave right away though, because Jenny was too worried about Leroy returning and finding her packing her bags. Although Rita had begged her to leave everything and go as she was, Jenny insisted that there were things she needed to take with her; personal items and things she had bought for the baby.
In the end, they compromised and Jenny agreed that she would leave as soon as Leroy was out of the house for a sufficient length of time. She would call Rita once she was ready to leave. In the meantime, Rita was going to make some enquiries and see if she could locate a suitable guest house where Leroy wouldn’t find Jenny.
“I’ll be alright till then, honest I will, Rita,” she said, her voice shaking. I’ve put up with him till now. I just have to do it for a bit longer.”
“OK, you just hang onto that thought, Jenny, and once we get you away, he can whistle for his bleedin’ baby. He’s only got himself to blame. A man like him doesn’t deserve to be a father!”
Her words were heartfelt, and full of added poignancy in view of her own situation. How could it be right for him to father a child? A man who treated life with such disrega
rd. And yet, a good man like Yansis was denied that privilege.
Once Jenny’s appearance was restored to a state bordering on normality, Rita knew that it was time for them to go. Jenny was becoming increasingly edgy about Leroy coming home and finding them there. It wasn’t unusual for Rita to visit her sister but, under the circumstances, the reason for her visit would be obvious.
They left her at the door. When Rita got inside the car, she glanced back at her heavily pregnant sister waving at them from the doorstep. A strange feeling of foreboding seized her, and she hoped she was doing the right thing in not taking Jenny with them straightaway.
Chapter 30
Sunday 9th June 1991 – late evening
Carl thought it was strange that Leroy had asked to meet him in Alexandra Park, at 10 o’clock at night behind the old lodge. Extending to 60 acres, Alexandra Park is considered to be a place of national importance because of its heritage. Unfortunately, by the 1990s many of its original buildings were in disrepair, and the park was in need of some updating. It was also a place where youths hung out in the evenings, drinking and taking drugs. However, they generally kept to the same areas, with each group of friends having their regular hangouts.
Leroy had told him they were having a secret gang meeting, so Carl assumed this must be an ideal location for clandestine assignations. At least in a place of that size, they could find an area where nobody could overhear their discussions. Now, though, he was apprehensive as he approached the meeting place. The park was eerily quiet at night and, when he arrived at the lodge, he couldn’t see any sign of the other gang members. He was relieved when Leroy showed up a few minutes later, with Tyson in tow.
“Alright mate?” said Carl.
“Sure, c’mon it’s over there,” said Leroy, leading Carl across the fields.
After they had walked for about twenty minutes, they entered a wooded area. The trees were thinly scattered at first but then became thicker. It was difficult to see, and Carl’s imagination was on overdrive as the branches of the trees seemed to grasp at him, like the tentacles of an octopus. The nocturnal sounds made him jittery too; strange animal noises, twigs snapping underfoot and echoing laughter becoming fainter as they got deeper into the woods. He tried to hide his nervousness from Leroy. They persevered until they passed through the trees and into a clearing, surrounded on all sides by dense foliage and branches.
“Nice one,” said Carl. “All we need now’s a few chairs and some cans of beer, and this could be a really cool meeting place.”
Leroy didn’t reply. Instead, he stopped to tie the dog’s lead to a tree then leant back against a large trunk, casually crossing his right leg over his left one. He lit up a spliff without bothering to offer Carl one. Carl picked up on Leroy’s lack of generosity, which he suspected was deliberate. The silence was ominous, and Carl was starting to have a bad feeling about Leroy’s motives for calling this meeting.
“What time are the others due?” he asked.
“What others?” Leroy took a drag from his spliff then exhaled a long plume of smoke.
“I thought we were having a meeting.”
“We are, me and you.”
“Oh.”
Now the fear was kicking in. Carl couldn’t think of one good reason why Leroy would want to meet him alone at night, especially somewhere as deserted as this.
“So, what d’you think about what happened to Winston?” asked Leroy.
Carl thought that Leroy was trying to test his loyalty, so he decided to tough it out. “Bastard got what was coming to him for skimming.”
“Oh, so you think that’s why he was killed, do you?”
“I thought so, yeah.”
“Well that’s where you’re fuckin’ wrong. You see, Carl, you’ve gotta be doing worse things than skimming to get yourself killed. For skimming, you just get the shit kicked out of you, but messing with someone else’s woman …” Leroy paused and sucked his teeth before adding, “… now that can get you killed.”
Carl gulped. “Right, d’you think that’s what happened, that he was messin’ around?”
“I know he was. In any case, he wasn’t skimming.”
Carl sensed what was coming. He was tempted to run but he wouldn’t get far. The trees would slow him down. Leroy was probably tooled up anyway, so it would be easy to put a bullet through him before he could escape. And if he did, who would come to his help? There was no-one around.
Leroy’s last statement had prompted a question, which Carl felt obliged to ask.
“How do you know he wasn’t skimming?”
Leroy took another drag of his spliff then tossed it to the ground, and made a great show of grinding it into the earth with his huge feet, before answering. “What you forget, Carl, is that there’s not much goes on that I don’t find out about. So I’ve been asking a few questions, and I found out that the guy who died had his mate with him when he bought the H. Guess what his mate said?”
Carl was sweating now. He knew Leroy was tormenting him, dragging it out.
“I don’t know.”
“He said that the guy they bought the H from was white. So it can’t have been Winston then, can it? And there’s only two people that sell H in that area; you and Winston. So, who does that leave, Carl?”
As Leroy raised his voice, Tyson began to growl. Carl stared at Leroy, dumbfounded.
“I said who does it fuckin’ leave?” Leroy repeated.
Without waiting for a reply, Leroy had covered the ground between them in a fraction of a second. Carl felt the impact of Leroy’s knuckles as they connected with his right temple.
“Who does it fuckin’ leave?” he asked again.
“Me, I’m sorry, Leroy. I didn’t expect anyone to die …”
Slam! Leroy’s right fist connected with Carl’s face again. He aimed a series of blows about his head, and Carl was powerless to defend himself. When Leroy threw a sharp uppercut, it sent Carl reeling backwards. Losing his footing, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Carl rolled into a ball to protect his face from further blows. Capitalising on the opportunity, Leroy switched from fists to feet, raining kicks on Carl’s foetal form. Tyson had witnessed this show of violence and was becoming excited, straining at the leash.
When Leroy began to tire, he paused to regain his strength. Carl took this as a sign that his punishment was over, and tried to stand.
“Stay down!” Leroy shouted, and he aimed another kick at Carl’s back to emphasise his point.
The dog was now becoming agitated, wanting to jump to its master’s aid but restricted from doing so. Leroy had tied the lead to a narrow trunk in a loose knot. This left a good length of strapping, enabling Tyson to leap around and pull at the leash. His movements were so frenetic that the knot had loosened more.
When Leroy stopped kicking, Carl raised his head slightly, his eyes following the sound of Tyson’s frenzied barking. Thankfully, the dog calmed down once Leroy’s attack had ceased but, to Carl’s dismay, Leroy noticed this too.
“Come on Tyson, seize him, seize him!” he yelled, kicking Carl again to give the dog encouragement.
Carl couldn’t recall much of what happened next. He felt trepidation as the dog bounded up to him and gripped his jacket between its teeth, ripping, snarling and biting. He covered his head with his hands when he saw the blood spurt. Then he felt the dog’s teeth lock around his arm, and he screamed at the intense pain. The next thing he remembered was Leroy disappearing through the trees with Tyson on its lead.
“Don’t leave me!” he shouted. “Leroy, I’m sorry mate. I’ll never let you down again. I promise.”
But Leroy was already gone, leaving Carl to figure out how he would get his bloody, damaged body out of the park and back to a place of safety.
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Sunday 9th June 1991 – late evening
Debby had been having a relaxing evening. The kids were in bed, Carl was out, and she was making the most of it by watching a romcom video. S
he’d just reached the highlight of the film when she heard a light tap on the front door, and wondered what it could be. She peered around the curtains, checking for safety before opening the door. It looked like Carl but it was difficult to tell in the gloom. The man standing there was slumped forwards as though drunk. Taking no chances, she sidled up to the door, and whispered, “Carl, is that you?”
She heard his voice on the other side; it was faint but it was definitely him, “Yeah, open the door and let me in.”
The man outside was hardly recognisable, and she gasped in astonishment when he lifted his head to face her.
“Jesus, Carl! What the hell’s happened?”
Carl’s clothing was bloodied and torn. The flesh around both of his eyes was red and puffed. One eye was almost closed and she could see the beginnings of a bruise from his temple to beneath his cheekbone. Blood was clustered around his nose and mouth, and his lip was so swollen that he lisped when he spoke.
“Get me in the house, I’ll tell you later.”
Debby took his arm around her shoulders, and helped him through to the living room, where she settled him onto the sofa.
“My God, look at the state of you, Carl! What’s happened? Who did this to you?”
“It’s that fuckin’ Leroy and his mad dog. Help me get cleaned up. Are the kids all asleep? I don’t want ’em seeing me like this.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, they went off hours ago.”
She rushed to the kitchen, returning with a bowl and flannel. The bowl had a greasy tide mark around the top, and the flannel was used to wash the children’s grubby faces, but in a house devoid of cleanliness, it was the best she could do. Carl flinched as she bathed his wounds and tried to remove the mud that stuck to them.
“Where the hell has all this mud come from?” she asked.
“Alex Park. The twat told me we were having a meeting. I knew there was summat wrong when he led me into the woods but then I saw this clearing in the trees. Like an idiot, I thought we were just waiting for the others. It was miles into the park. The crafty bastard took me there so no-one could hear me scream.”
A Gangster's Grip: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 2 Page 20