by D. S. Butler
She’d been absolutely terrified that it would get back to Martin because she’d taken a risk and decided to get rid of Mo without consulting Martin or his brother, Tony. But in the end, she just hadn’t had the stomach for it. What she didn’t know until last night was that Martin had already ordered Old Mo to be dispatched. So in the end, his death was inevitable. It really hadn’t mattered what Babs did or said.
It didn’t stop her feeling silly, though. She had made a hell of a fuss about Tony not having the balls to run the Morton enterprise, and then he’d shown up and finished the job she’d been too scared to do. Babs needed to show people she could still play an important role in the business, and getting a cut from the Pattersons was exactly what she needed. It would prove she was valuable.
Babs remembered the old boxing club, and as she stood outside the building, she was actually quite impressed with what Gerald Patterson had done to the place. He’d really spruced it up.
She didn’t bother to knock and walked through the large double doors into a small reception area. She could hear the general noises of the gym coming from the second set of double doors in front of her and strode confidently through those doors as well.
She stopped to survey her surroundings and wrinkled her nose. It smelt a little bit like old socks. The room was large, and the ceiling was high. To the far right of the gym there were two boxing rings set up, and to Babs’ left, there were a number of blue mats on the floor. There were a couple of lads going hammer and tongs on the punching bags, but no one currently in the boxing rings.
As Babs cast her eyes around the room, one by one the men fell silent. Women were not usually found in boxing clubs. Babs was a well-known figure in the East End, and most of them appeared to recognise her. That was good.
She didn’t recognise any of the men, though. Irritated that she couldn’t spot Gerald Patterson, the man in charge, she called out in a booming voice, “Where’s your governor?”
At first, no one answered, and then an older man, who had been holding one of the boxing bags, stepped forward. There was something vaguely familiar about him. His eyes looked tired, and his hair was turning to grey.
Babs narrowed her eyes. She had definitely seen him before somewhere, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
The man smiled, “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Morton. Gerald is out back. I’ll take you to him.”
As the man spoke, it dawned on Babs exactly who he was. Knuckles Bancroft. He was a blast from the past. He’d been the talk of the East End once upon a time, and people viewed him as potentially the greatest fighter to come out of the East End in a generation, but the accolades and fuss had soon died down after he’d broken his hand in a fight, and his promising career had faded into insignificance.
Babs decided not to mention it. She imagined it was a touchy subject.
She followed Knuckles Bancroft through the gym as the other men watched her in silence. When Babs stepped inside the small office, she clapped eyes on Gerald Patterson, and had to admit what Tony had said was true. He was certainly a good-looking man. Babs guessed he must be in his early thirties. He had his hair carefully styled, but his best feature was his sparkling green eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes. They wouldn’t have looked out of place on a girl.
Babs reassured herself she was immune to his charms.
Gerald stood up as soon as she stepped into the room and held out his hand. He was quite clearly taken aback but hid it well. “Mrs. Morton, it’s an honour.”
Babs was pretty sure he wouldn’t still think that when she’d got through with him.
“Thank you,” Gerald said with a nod to Knuckles Bancroft to let him know he’d been dismissed.
“Please, take a seat,” Gerald said, gesturing to the chair beside his desk as he sat down himself.
Babs sat down, carefully arranging her skirt and crossing her legs, purposely delaying telling Gerald why she was here. She knew his mind must be racing through the possibilities.
Eventually, he couldn’t bear the suspense any longer and asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Babs smiled and didn’t answer immediately, letting Gerald know who was the boss in this situation.
After gazing around the office and not seeing any sign that this place was anything other than a legitimate boxing club, Babs leaned forward and said, “It’s your lucky day, Gerald. I’ve come with a business proposal.”
The smile didn’t leave Gerald’s face, but his features tightened almost imperceptibly. “That sounds intriguing. Tell me more.”
“It’s come to our attention that boxing isn’t your only business these days.”
Gerald let out an easy laugh and leaned back in his seat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you, Mrs. Morton. Patterson’s is just a boxing club.” He gestured around him, smiling confidently, and Babs immediately had him pegged as a player.
“Please, call me Babs. We are all friends here.”
Gerald inclined his head slightly. “Babs, what is it you want from me?”
“The first thing I would like is a little honesty. Don’t treat me like a fool, Gerald. My information is good, and I know you’re handling illegal goods through this building.”
“I don’t know who has told you such a thing, Babs,” Gerald began to bluster.
Babs raised an eyebrow. “Shall we take a look upstairs?”
Gerald’s face flushed, and Babs knew she had caught him out. She imagined he had all sorts stashed up there.
Gerald took a deep breath and sighed. “We’ve got some stuff coming in now and again, but it’s nothing major. We’ve got a couple of guys working on the docks who pass things on to us occasionally. We sell it on. The boxing business can be hard, and a little bit of money on the side helps things tick over.”
“Of course. It sounds like smart business to me,” Babs said, thinking now she was finally getting somewhere. At least, Gerald had admitted to handling the stolen goods.
They both knew where this conversation was heading next. Babs was going to demand a cut, and Gerald would try to argue her down to a lower percentage. She wouldn’t have expected anything less and was preparing herself for a good barter when suddenly Gerald’s face creased with concern.
For some reason he’d cut the charming act and looked genuinely distraught.
“I know you are about to ask for a share of the profits in exchange for some protection, and I can’t accommodate you, Babs.”
Babs’ eyes narrowed. Like hell he couldn’t. She wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“I think you will find you don’t have much choice in the matter, Gerald,” she said coldly.
Gerald raised his eyes to the ceiling and let out yet another deep sigh. “Carter got here before you.”
“Carter?” Babs demanded. “Dave Carter?”
Gerald nodded.
She couldn’t believe it. The Patterson enterprise had been so hush-hush. And yet Dave Carter had managed to get here before them. The disappointment was bitter, and Babs’ stomach twisted as she saw her opportunity falling away, everything she had worked so hard for. She needed this. She had to prove to her husband and to Tony she could bring in fresh business.
Bloody Dave Carter. He was the bane of her life. He was raking it in right now, so he didn’t even need something small like this. The greedy bastard. Now he wouldn’t even let the Mortons take the scraps from his table.
Babs clutched her handbag and was about to stand up when suddenly she felt a rush of anger. No. She wasn’t going to stand for it. If Dave Carter wanted a cut of the Patterson’s business, he would have to pry it from her cold dead hands. This was rightfully hers, and she was not going to give up her claim.
Gerald might take a little more convincing. Babs smiled. She had the perfect method in mind.
Chapter 29
Gerald watched Babs Morton leave with a feeling of trepidation. He let out a shaky breath. He had no idea what Dave Carter was playing at, but Gerald had
done exactly what he’d told him to.
Dave had ordered him to refuse Babs’ deal at first, and then when she came back, Gerald was to accept her offer. Now, all Gerald had to do was wait for her to come back, but from the look on her face, Gerald was worried her next request wouldn’t be quite so politely worded.
“You all right, bruv?”
Gerald turned and saw his brother standing in the doorway, looking nervous. He was surprised he was still here. He thought his brother would have scarpered as soon as he’d noticed Babs Morton’s arrival.
“Of course, I’m not all right. Thanks to you I’m stuck in the middle of a standoff between Dave Carter and the Mortons.”
Arthur had the decency to look ashamed. He looked down at the floor.
“I’m sorry, Gerald. It was my boy, Ronnie. The little sod got us involved in this.”
Gerald sighed and shook his head. He’d heard all of Arthur’s excuses before. They didn’t help.
“Did you do what Dave asked you to?”
“Of course, I did! I haven’t got a bleeding death wish.”
Arthur nodded slowly. “What did Babs say?”
“Well, put it this way, she didn’t leave the club with a smile on her face.”
“So now you have to wait until she comes back and accept her offer next time?”
Gerald nodded miserably. He had a feeling next time Babs returned, she wouldn’t be alone, and he only hoped he could accept before things went too far. He heard the Mortons’ favourite trick was hanging people out of windows.
Gerald shivered and glared at his brother. It wasn’t fair. Why should he be stuck in the middle of this because of his brother’s dimwit of a son?
“I’m sorry, Gerald. I wish there was something I could do.”
Gerald lost his temper and grabbed a paperweight off his desk and threw it at his brother. “Get out of my sight!”
His brother ran off, and Gerald put his head in his hands. This was not going to end well. He’d seen the look in Babs’ eyes as she’d left him, and he knew she had something very nasty planned for him.
* * *
On her way home from the boxing club, Babs made a detour. She knocked on the front door of red-haired Freddie’s house, and his daughter, Jemima, opened the door.
Once again, Jemima’s youth and beauty struck Babs, and she tried to quash her jealousy. The girl obviously hadn’t been expecting any visitors, and her long, wavy red hair spilled down over her shoulders.
Babs hated to admit it, but Jemima’s youth was exactly what she needed.
“Hello, Mrs. Morton. I’m afraid my father is not in.”
Babs gave the girl a beaming smile. “That’s all right, sweetheart. It was you I wanted to talk to anyway.”
Jemima looked surprised, but she stepped back so Babs could enter.
Babs walked past her into the hallway and shrugged off her coat, handing it to Jemima. “Why don’t you make us a nice cup of tea? We’ve got lots to talk about.”
As Babs walked through into the front room, she had to admit she was surprised at how nice Jemima had kept the family home. It was just her and her father now. Red-haired Freddie had only had one child, and his wife had passed away five years ago.
As Jemima busied herself in the kitchen making the tea, Babs settled down in an armchair. She knew that red-haired Freddie thought his daughter was an angel. In his eyes, his daughter was a sweet, innocent young girl. Babs suspected Jemima was more like she had been at that age, and Freddie probably turned a blind eye because it suited him to do so.
Jemima brought the tea in on a tray and watched Babs warily as she began to pour the tea.
Babs waited until she was finished because she didn’t want to broach the subject while Jemima had scalding hot tea in her hand. Babs thought her proposal might come as a shock.
Jemima settled herself in the armchair opposite Babs and then looked directly at the older woman and said, “What did you want to talk to me about, Mrs. Morton?”
Babs decided honesty was the best policy. “I need your help, Jemima. Your father thinks the sun shines out of your backside. He thinks you are a complete innocent, but do you want to know what I think?”
Jemima’s teacup rattled slightly as she replaced her cup on the saucer. “What do you think, Mrs. Morton?” Her voice was guarded as she spoke.
“Call me Babs. I think you’re old enough for that, Jemima, don’t you? You’re nineteen now, is that right?”
Jemima nodded. “I am. I have a feeling you want me to do something for you.”
Babs had to hand it to the girl. She was a smart one.
“You’re right. I did come here to ask you to help me out. I thought we might come to some sort of understanding. I imagine living with Freddie could be a little stifling for a girl like you. I remember being your age, and all I wanted was for someone to take me seriously.”
Jemima watched her with sharp eyes, and Babs thought the girl could go far in life if she had the right guidance.
“It’s a man’s world out there, Jemima. But if you look closely, you’ll see it’s nearly always an intelligent woman who is pulling the strings. You’re a very attractive girl, and you shouldn’t let that go to waste.”
Jemima arched an eyebrow, and Babs noticed there wasn’t a single frown line or wrinkle on the girl’s face. What Babs wouldn’t give to have smooth, soft skin like that again.
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at, Babs.”
“As women, we don’t have many weapons at our disposal, and I think it’s only right we use what God has given us. I’ve got a job for you, Jemima. I’ll pay you well, and if things work out, it could be a regular thing.”
Jemima looked confused, and then all of a sudden the confusion cleared, and she looked indignant. “I hope you’re not suggesting…”
Babs waved her protests away. “Hear me out. There’s a man called Gerald Patterson who is giving me a little trouble. He is rather partial to pretty girls, and I want you to get him to the flat above Mortons’ club tomorrow night.”
Seconds passed before Jemima replied. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Use your imagination,” Babs said, starting to lose patience.
“And that’s all I have to do? You just want me to get him to Mortons’ club?”
“Not just the club. You need to get him upstairs to the flat. I’ll give you the key. You’ll need to be there by nine o’clock tomorrow night. Do you think you can handle it?”
A small smile played on Jemima’s lips, and Babs knew she’d been wise in her choice. She had gotten the impression that Jemima was bored with her life. She wasn’t the type of girl who would be satisfied with settling down with some man, making his tea and keeping the home tidy. Babs saw a lot of herself in Jemima.
Jemima nodded. “I’ll do it.”
As they finished their tea, Babs told Jemima where she could find Gerald, and they worked out the details of the plan.
When Babs stood up and prepared to leave, she turned and looked over her shoulder at Jemima. “There is one more thing.”
Jemima looked up. “Yes?”
“You’d be wise not to tell your father about this.”
* * *
Later that day, Babs took Ruby to see her father in prison. The girl hadn’t been to see him for ages, and she was as excitable as a puppy.
Babs wasn’t happy. She would prefer Ruby to be shut up in her room, feeling miserable. And if Babs had anything to do with it, that’s exactly where the girl would be as soon as they got home. Ruby had to learn she couldn’t have everything her own way.
After they got off the bus and walked the short distance to the prison, Ruby didn’t stop chattering. Despite her best intentions, Babs couldn’t help smiling. It was like they’d gone back a few years, to the good old days when Ruby used to talk to her mum about everything.
“I forgot you could talk the hind legs off a donkey,” Babs said as they signed in.
Ruby’s
face fell, and Babs felt bad. “I was only teasing. Don’t be so sensitive.”
“It’s not that… What if he’s angry with me?”
“If he is, you deserve it. You did run off from school, after all. You weren’t expecting a welcome home parade, or for me to bake you a cake when you returned, were you?” Babs asked sarcastically.
Ruby didn’t retaliate with her normal sulky reply. She really did look worried. “What if he’s disappointed with the way I’ve turned out?”
Babs put down the pen she had used to sign them in and ushered Ruby away from the desk. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked at her daughter. “Don’t be so daft. You know he loves you.”
They didn’t have any more time to talk before they were called through to the prison visiting room, where they sat down on one side of the table and waited for Martin to be brought in with the other prisoners.
Ruby couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“Will you keep still?” Babs said. “You will wear a hole in that chair with your backside if you don’t stop wriggling.”
But Ruby wasn’t listening. She was completely focused on the line of prisoners entering the room, and when she saw her father, her face broke out into a broad grin.
Martin swaggered over to them. “Babs,” he said with a nod, and then he turned to his daughter. “Hello, sweetheart. Give your old dad a kiss.”
Ruby leaned across the table, wrapped her arms around her father’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.
“That’s quite enough of that,” one of the screws said from the corner of the room. “Sit down.”
The three of them sat down, with Ruby gazing at her father adoringly.
“So, what’s new?” Martin asked them.
Ruby cast a worried look at her mother, clearly panicking that she was going to tell her father about Ruby’s latest escapade.
But Babs wasn’t feeling particularly vindictive that morning.
“Same old thing,” she said. “Old Mo has gone away for a long holiday.” She gave Martin a meaningful look as she spoke in code.