Feeling totally ashamed and also shocked by Joey’s crudity, Stanley felt the tears start to roll down his cheeks. ‘I want to move back to your nan because I truly love her. I even miss her moaning at me, Joey. Please help me. I’m nothing without her.’
Seeing the people at the bar clocking Stanley crying, Joey sat on a chair next to his grandfather and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. He couldn’t be totally horrible to him, it wasn’t in his nature.
‘I can’t stay at that awful woman’s another night, Joey, I really can’t,’ Stanley wept, feeling dreadfully sorry for himself.
‘You can stay with me and Dom for the time being and don’t worry, I’ll speak to Nan for you. She’ll take you back, I know she will.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Stanley asked hopefully.
Joey hugged the silly old fool. ‘I know so, Grandad.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The night before his brothers’ joint funeral, Eddie struggled to sleep a wink. Guilt, anger, regret: his brain whirled away like a tumble drier and, sick of tossing and turning, he finally got up at 5 a.m.
Ed made himself a coffee and, feeling nostalgic, began flicking through an old photo album that had once belonged to his father. Most of the pictures were old, some slightly creased, but he smiled as he clocked the one of Ronny dressed in a silver tonic suit with two-tone shoes. That had been taken in Ronny’s mod days and at a guess, Ed reckoned it must have been the early to mid sixties.
‘I heard you get up. Are you all right, love?’ Gina asked, as she walked into the lounge.
‘I’m OK. I couldn’t sleep, though. Come and sit ’ere and I’ll show you some old photos of the boys.’
Gina sat down next to Ed. She had only met Paulie and Ronny once and that had been the night in the restaurant, when Eddie had just come out of prison and introduced her to his entire family.
‘Is that you?’ Gina asked, nudging him.
Ed nodded. The photo had been taken at his Auntie Joanie’s house. He was sitting on her gate in a pair of grey shorts and Ronny and Paulie were standing behind him, all suited and booted. ‘I used to really look up to ’em when I was a kid, you know. I thought they were the bollocks,’ Eddie said sadly.
Gina laid her head on his shoulder. She knew how difficult today was going to be for Ed, and for once she had no words of comfort for him. ‘I’m gonna cook us a nice breakfast. I think a fry-up’s in order today, considering you’re going to be boozing later. You can’t drink on an empty stomach, you know.’
When Gina left the room, Ed continued flicking through the photo album. He had three trustworthy pals in Belmarsh, Ginger Mick, Lee Adams and Scouse Lenny, but so far none of them could find out who had murdered Ronny and Paulie.
‘We’re positive it was nought to do with any of O’Hara’s cronies. We were watching ’em and none of them could have got near that nonces’ wing, so chances are your brothers were killed by someone off our radar,’ Ginger Mick relayed via messenger yesterday.
Eddie wasn’t quite as convinced. As far as he knew, nobody else in Belmarsh had it in for Ronny and Paulie, therefore he still had to live with the thought that he had paid for his own brothers to be murdered. The guilt of that was overwhelming, but what was pissing Ed off more was he’d underestimated Jimmy O’Hara. To get to Ronny and Paulie in the nonces’ wing meant the pikey piece of shit was a lot cleverer than Ed would ever have given him credit for.
Slamming the photo album shut, Eddie put his head in his hands. He’d already got a few outsiders on the case and he was determined to find out who his brothers’ killer was. Looking up, he stared at the large photograph of his father on the wall and spoke in a whisper so Gina couldn’t hear him.
‘I’m sorry, Dad, I did the best I could and I really thought Ronny and Paulie would be safe. But don’t you worry, I shall find out who did this and when I do, they’re dead, I promise you that faithfully.’
Another person up with the larks was Frankie’s cellmate, Babs. They had had a heart to heart the previous night and Frankie had begged her to see sense.
‘Look, if I can tell the truth about what Jed did to my grandad, then you can do the same, Babs. Let me have a word with DI Blyth for you, she’s a nice lady and I know she’ll try and help you. My dad will get you a good brief. He’ll be so glad to be back in my good books after what he’s done, he’ll do anything I ask him to. Do it for your children. Matilda will get over all that shit being brought up in court and I’m sure she’d rather tell the truth than not be able to live with her mum for years to come. Also I’m a selfish cow and when I get out of this shit-hole, I need you to be out in the real world with me. We can even get a flat or house together if you want, mate?’
Babs had spent the whole night mulling Frankie’s words over in her mind. She hated the thought of making Matilda relive what that paedophile Peter had done to her, but was that any worse than missing seeing her daughter growing up into a young woman? She missed her children dreadfully and every time Matty and Jordan visited her, it broke her heart when they left. Babs got up, walked over to Frankie’s bed and shook her.
‘What time is it?’ Frankie asked dazed.
‘It’s time I told the truth, sweet child.’
Georgie O’Hara was having one of her little tantrums. Two things had already upset her this morning. Her dad hadn’t come home last night and he had promised to take her and Harry out for the day, and now her nan had just informed her that she was starting a new school the following week.
‘I hate school. Don’t wanna go!’ Georgie screamed. She had originally started school in September the previous year, when she had been living in Wickford with her mum and dad, and she had despised every minute of it. Georgie loved outdoor life and being stuck in a classroom day in, day out, did not suit her adventurous nature one little bit.
Alice put Georgie’s breakfast in front of her and crouched down next to her granddaughter. ‘You have to go, Georgie girl. Daddy’s solicitor promised that judge you saw in court that you would go back to school. If you don’t, Daddy will get into trouble and you and Harry might be taken away from us and forced to live elsewhere.’
‘Can I go to school, Nanny?’ Harry asked innocently.
‘Yes, when you’re older. Now eat your breakfast, Georgie,’ Alice ordered, as she stood up.
Georgie stared at the sausage, chips and beans. The mention of school had made her appetite disappear, so she sulkily pushed her plate away with force.
‘You naughty girl,’ Alice yelled, as the plate smashed on the kitchen floor and the contents went everywhere. Alice yanked Georgie out of the chair by her arm and slapped her on the back of her bare legs. ‘Now go to your bedroom.’
Georgie immediately started to cry. ‘I want my Mummy!’ she screamed.
DI Blyth thanked Kerry for her help and told her she would be in touch in due course.
‘So what will happen now? Will you arrest Jed and Sammy?’ Kerry asked hopefully. She hated her two sons spending time with their father. She didn’t trust Sammy an inch and was frightened that one day he wouldn’t bring them back at all.
‘What happens now is I hand all the details I have over to the Met and then they see if they can find enough evidence to charge Sammy and Jed. I will be involved and notified of any happenings, but because Frankie’s grandad was murdered in Canning Town, it’s not my job to actually solve the crime. I work out in Essex, you see,’ Blyth explained.
‘So how will the Met solve it? Frankie said that her dad has since sold her grandad’s house, so they won’t find any clues there if new people have moved in, will they?’ Kerry asked, perplexed.
‘When a murder such as Harry Mitchell’s has taken place, the Met would have taken scene exhibits at the time and they would have been stored for safe-keeping.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, I’m not exactly sure because I haven’t spoken to them yet, but say, for instance, the victim was wearing clothes, or in Mr Mitchell’s case, pro
bably pyjamas at the time he was murdered, they would have been stored in case they had the killer’s DNA on them. From what I remember, the police had very few suspects, but now we’ve got names, we can match any DNA that is found.’
Kerry nodded. ‘But say you don’t find any DNA? You can’t let Jed and Sammy get away with it; they definitely murdered Frankie’s grandad, I heard the conversation with my own ears.’
‘I shall get in touch with the Met tomorrow and they can do some tests. I would have contacted them earlier, but I needed to speak to you first to confirm Frankie’s story. In the Met’s eyes two statements are far better than one. If by any chance they can’t match any DNA to Sammy and Jed, we will have to cross that bridge when we come to it, but the one thing I can promise you, Kerry, is even though I’m not allowed to work directly on the case, I will still do everything in my power to ensure a conviction.’
Blyth said her goodbyes and got into the car. She had never really doubted Frankie’s statement, but the fact that Kerry had repeated what her friend had said virtually word for word convinced Blyth that both girls were telling the absolute truth. All she had to do now was help the Met prove it.
Eddie stood solemnly in his aunt’s front garden. It had been his idea to use Joanie’s abode, where he and his brothers had grown up, for the sad occasion. Paulie’s wife had recently divorced him and wanted nothing to do with his funeral whatsoever. As for Ronny’s long-suffering partner, Sharon, she now lived in a poky council flat in Beckton and there just wasn’t room for the mourners or the flowers.
Spotting his uncles, Reg and Albert, Eddie walked over to them and shook their hands.
‘Few blasts from the past ’ere today boy, ain’t there?’ Reg commented, referring to some well-known faces that belonged to the criminal fraternity.
Eddie nodded. Paulie and Ronny had never been particularly popular, especially towards the latter years of their lives, but the criminal world was a tight-knit community and on occasions like this people would come and pay their respects to the actual family rather than the dead themselves.
Seeing Sharon burst into tears, Ed went over and put a comforting arm around the poor woman’s shoulder. Over the years, Sharon had stuck by his brother through thick and thin. Ronny had always been a bastard to her. He’d spoken to her like shit, had even knocked her about at times, and Ed had never understood Sharon’s loyalty towards him. Even when Ronny was left paralysed after being shot in the spine, Sharon stayed put. They had no kids and Ed thought the poor cow deserved a medal for coping with a crippled, abusive alcoholic.
Eddie led Sharon over to where Gina was standing. ‘Keep an eye on Shal for me, babe,’ he whispered.
About to pop inside the house to check on Joanie and Vi, Ed heard the clip-clop of hooves and stopped dead in his tracks.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Gary asked him.
Ed felt his whole body stiffen as he clapped eyes on the two coffins. Picturing his brothers lying lifeless inside them, he felt anything but all right. In fact, he felt sick with guilt.
Over in Rainham, Joyce was sipping a large brandy, which she’d poured to calm her nerves. She still hadn’t seen or spoken to Stanley since he’d moved in with Joey and Dominic but, at her grandson’s insistence, she had agreed to meet her philandering husband for lunch today.
‘Grandad said he’ll pick you up at one,’ Joey told her yesterday.
‘You tell your grandfather that I shall get a cab and meet him at the carvery.’
‘What’s the point of you paying for a cab?’ Joey asked, perplexed.
‘If you think I’m getting into your grandfather’s car after he’s had that old tart sat in it, then you can bleedin’ well think again,’ Joyce replied stubbornly.
Hearing the cab toot up outside, Joyce knocked back the rest of her drink and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. She knew she looked good, she’d made a special effort, and she could hardly wait to show that errant husband of hers exactly what he’d been missing. Smiling like the cat who had got the cream back again, Joyce picked up her handbag and slammed the front door.
Jed O’Hara got out of bed and quickly got dressed. He’d spent the night at Amanda’s flat and, after three dates, had finally got his end away with her. Amanda woke up and smiled lovingly at Jed. Unlike her friend, who had slept with Sammy on the night that she’d met him, Amanda had morals and she never slept with a lad unless the relationship was destined to be long term. Last night, Jed had repeatedly told her he loved her and had also said that he wanted her to meet his children and his parents. Knowing how serious Jed was about her, Amanda finally decided to drop her knickers, and now she was absolutely smitten with him.
‘What time are we taking your children out, Jed? What should I wear? I want to look nice if I’m meeting your mum and dad.’
Remembering the lies he’d spun to have his wicked way with her, Jed shrugged. He’d actually thought he’d liked her over the past week or so, but now he’d had sex with her, he’d kind of lost interest. Unfortunately for Amanda, she wasn’t very good at it.
‘I’ve been thinking, I feel it’s a bit early for you to meet me chavvies. The thing is, it ain’t that long since I split up with their muvver and I don’t wanna confuse ’em, do I?’
‘Well, can’t we still spend the day together like you promised?’ Amanda asked in a clingy tone.
‘I’d love to, babe, but I promised I’d take me chavvies out and I wouldn’t be much of a dad if I let ’em down, would I? I’ll give you a bell later, OK?’
Jed pecked Amanda on the cheek, walked out of her flat and immediately rang his cousin. ‘What’s occurring, Sammy boy?’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to bell me. Bored shitless I am, and Julie’s done my head in all fucking day. How’d it go with Randy Mandy?’
Jed chuckled. ‘She finally let me give her one, but it weren’t worth the wait. Frigid bitch in bed she was and I ain’t gonna bother seeing her again. She was all lovestruck this morning, so I bet I have to change me mobile number yet again. So, what we gonna do? I dunno about you, but I fancy getting right on one.’
‘I thought we were gonna take Georgie and Harry out,’ Sammy replied.
‘Nah, can’t be arsed. Get your gladrags on and I’ll meet you in the Derby Digger at half-two. I think me and you should pop over to Basildon and pay them two whores another visit.’
Sammy laughed. ‘Half-two it is then.’
Stanley’s heart filled with hope as Joyce strolled into the restaurant. She was twenty minutes late and he had thought that she had changed her mind about meeting him. His hands shook as he handed her the expensive bouquet he’d bought her.
‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Joycie,’ he said genuinely.
Joyce smiled inwardly as she put the flowers on the chair next to her. Stanley had his best suit on and, considering he was usually covered in pigeon shit, she was pleased he’d made the effort to look smart for once.
‘I took the liberty of ordering you your favourite wine,’ Stanley informed her, nodding towards the ice bucket.
‘Best you pour me a glass and then tell me why you asked me to come here,’ Joyce replied coldly.
Stanley did as he was told and then looked into Joyce’s eyes with pure emotion in his own. ‘I asked you here because I can’t live without you, Joycie.’
‘Pity you didn’t think of that before you left me and moved in with that old slapper. It’s a bit late for regrets, Stanley, our divorce is probably nearly finalised.’
‘I don’t want to divorce you, Joycie. Being apart from you made me realise just how much I love you. As for Pat, I only moved in with her because I had nowhere else to go. There was nothing between us, I swear there wasn’t,’ Stanley lied. Joey had promised he wouldn’t tell his nan what Stanley had told him, and Stanley just hoped that his grandson would keep his word.
Joyce was in her element. The old goat grovelling was exactly what she had expected and wanted, and now she was going to mil
k it. ‘So, what is it you’re trying to say? Are you asking to move back into my house?’
‘Yes, if that’s OK with you, love.’
Joyce took her compact mirror out of her handbag. She applied some more plum lipstick and snapped the mirror shut. ‘I shall need some time to think about things.’
‘How long do you need? I can’t stay with Joey and Dominic for much longer. I’m cramping their style as it is.’
Joyce smirked. ‘A week, perhaps two. Now I’m starving, so let’s eat, shall we?’
* * *
Eddie managed to hold himself together throughout the service and only shed a tear at the end when he heard Tom Jones singing ‘Green, Green Grass of Home’ . Ed had chosen the record to be played as everybody left the church. It had been Paulie’s party piece and there had been many a boozer he’d crooned it in back in the good old days.
As his brothers’ coffins were lowered into the ground, Ed walked away and lit up a cigar. The guilt he was feeling was awful and it was tearing him apart inside. ‘All right, mate? I’ve organised the wake at the Flag. You’re coming back for a bevvy, ain’t ya?’ Ed asked, as Flatnose Freddie approached him.
‘Just walk with me, I’ve got some info for you,’ Freddie replied in almost a whisper.
Eddie felt his heart start to pound instead of just beat. He’d gone to Flatnose Freddie a couple of weeks back and offered him ten grand to find out who had killed his brothers. ‘You got a name for me?’ he asked softly.
Freddie ignored Eddie’s question. ‘Not ’ere,’ he mumbled.
Urging Eddie to follow him behind the wall that was the toilet block, Flatnose Freddie turned to face his pal. He and Mitchell went back years and although he’d often charged Ed to dispose of bodies for him, he had no intention of taking ten grand from him for the info he’d acquired about his brothers. Family was family and business was business in Freddie’s eyes.
The Victim Page 21