‘You’re up early. Couldn’t you sleep?’ Gina asked, rubbing her tired eyes.
Eddie sat on the bed next to his pregnant wife, pulled back the quilt cover and laid his head on her stomach. Gina was four months gone now and Ed could hardly wait to become a father again. Having a newborn at his age might seem like madness to some people, but he looked and acted more like a forty-year-old, instead of his true age of fifty-three.
‘I’ve got an early morning meeting, babe. In fact, I’ve got a few meetings today, so I probably won’t be back until teatime. What about you? You going out, or staying in all day?’
‘I might go for a mooch round Lakeside. Most of my clothes don’t fit me any more, so I’m gonna have to get some bigger sizes. I hope I don’t get enormous and then struggle to lose the weight after the baby’s born.’
Eddie chuckled. He’d never met a woman as paranoid about her weight as Gina. ‘It’ll all be worth it when you give birth to a little Mitchell. You should think yourself extremely lucky, you know. There ain’t many women in the world that wouldn’t give their right arm to breed with an ’andsome bastard like me.’
Gina punched him playfully on the arm. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re so full of shit, Eddie Mitchell?’
Ed kissed her gently on the forehead and stood up. ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way, sweetheart.’
An hour later, Ed was sitting in the office of his salvage yard in Dagenham. He had very little to do with the business any more. He’d had a guy called Big Pete running it for him for years, but he liked to keep hold of it in case the Old Bill ever came sniffing around. In Ed’s eyes, every wise man should have at least one legal business to cover their arse.
Eddie had told Terry Baldwin to meet him at the salvage yard at half-seven.
‘Take an hour off, Pete. Go and grab yourself a bit of scran down the café,’ he told his employee.
When Pete left the yard, Ed put his feet up on the desk in the Portakabin and as he often did when he was deep in thought, rubbed the stubble on his chin. At his end, everything had gone to plan the previous night. He and Raymond had stayed in the Bell and had had afters with the landlord and four other geezers, and he knew everything had gone OK with the others, as Stuart had got home at half-two and said both the restaurant and pub were full of people who knew both Gary and Ricky.
Eddie glanced at his watch. It was nearly half-past and there was no sign of Baldwin yet. Wondering if he’d ballsed up and the O’Haras had ended up killing him instead, Ed smirked seconds later as he saw Terry’s Land Cruiser pull into the yard. Ed opened the Portakabin door.
‘Well?’ he asked as Baldwin approached him.
‘Done and dusted,’ Terry replied, grinning.
Ed led him inside and urged him to sit down. ‘Start from the beginning.’
Terry explained exactly what had happened the previous evening.
‘Are you one hundred per cent sure he was dead?’ Eddie asked.
‘Of course I am. I was only about two feet away from him and I blasted him three times in the bonce. I saw his brains splatter all over the windscreen before I ran off. No one can survive that.’
‘What about Jimmy? Did you see him?’
‘No, I ran like a fucking greyhound, but it was definitely Jed and not Jimmy driving. Jimmy must have been with him, as I saw someone in the passenger seat – I saw the silhouette as the horse-box pulled in. You never know, one of my bullets might have gone astray and Jimmy might be dead an’ all.’
‘What about the motorbike you used?’
‘Already ceased to exist. The helmet, leathers, everything’s been torched,’ Terry replied.
‘Good stuff.’
‘So, are we OK now? I’m really sorry about your brothers, Ed, but Luke was my grandson, and I loved him dearly. I know me and you are never gonna be best pals, but I do hope you understand why I had to do what I did.’
Eddie Mitchell ran a hand over his stubble once more. He’d heard of Baldwin in the past. He wasn’t major league like himself, but the more Ed spoke to him, the more taken he was with the guy. Terry Baldwin was fearless, composed and incredibly honest, and in this day and age they were rare qualities to have.
‘Did anybody else, other than Jamie Carroll, know you’d ordered the hit on my brothers?’
‘What do you think? I knew they were your brothers, so I was hardly gonna advertise it, was I?’
Eddie stayed silent for a minute or two. He knew what he wanted to ask Terry, but he also knew if he did, Gary and Ricky would blow a fuse. Deciding to go with his gut instinct, Ed looked Baldwin in the eye.
‘How are you fixed for work at the moment? I reckon I could do with an extra pair of hands working for me.’
Terry stared at Eddie in complete and utter disbelief. For a second he wondered if his hearing had deceived him. Then he wondered if Ed was taking the piss. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ he asked bluntly.
‘Do I look like a fucking comedian?’ Eddie replied sarcastically.
‘I’d fucking love to work for you, Ed, and I truly mean that. Things have been tough workwise for me the past year or so and I ain’t exactly rolling in it at the moment.’
Eddie leaned across the desk and held out his right hand. ‘We’ll have to make sure the filth don’t come sniffing around ya first over Jed’s murder. As soon as we know everything’s kosher, you can start. It won’t be nothing iffy, you’ll just be collecting dosh and threatening or roughing up any one who don’t pay on time.’
‘If I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?’ Terry asked.
‘Go on.’
‘Why are you doing this for me after what I did to your brothers?’
‘Because I know what it’s like to have your daughter’s life ruined by some little cunt like Jed. I also know what it’s like to have somebody you love brutally murdered. I will never rest until I find out who killed my old man. I want revenge for that so much, I can almost fucking taste it.’
‘Thanks ever so much, Ed. I dunno what else to say to you, mate.’
‘Don’t say nothing then. Go on, you can fuck off now. I’ll be in touch as soon as we’re sure the coast is clear. Until then, don’t contact me, OK? And if I need to speak to you at all, I’ll get Stu to call you with a time, then we’ll meet at the Leonard Arms in Rainham.’
Terry Baldwin smiled gratefully and as he walked away, Eddie felt a slight twinge of guilt run through his veins. He just hoped all that life after death shit was a load of old cobblers, because if it wasn’t, his father would currently be turning in his fucking grave.
‘Morning everybody,’ DI Blyth shouted to her colleagues as she walked into her office.
‘The superintendent from Arbour Square rang up about half-an-hour ago. He wants you to call him back,’ said Julie, her young assistant.
Blyth shut the office door, put her takeaway coffee on the table and immediately picked up the phone. ‘Good morning, sir. DI Blyth here.’
Blyth listened intently as the superintendent told her the results of the DNA test. He then explained to Blyth what would happen next. Blyth thanked him, ended the call, then immediately rang up Holloway Prison. She would need to speak to Frankie face to face, and the sooner she got it over with, the better.
Eddie Mitchell arrived at Joanie’s house at quarter to two. He was early for once, and had purposely got there before Gary and Ricky did.
‘Happy birthday for tomorrow, Auntie,’ Ed said, handing her a card and a separate envelope with five-hundred quid stuffed inside. Ed knew Joanie like the back of his hand and she was bound to argue with him for five minutes, telling him she didn’t want his money, but in the end she would take it. He’d already told Stuart the score on the journey to Whitechapel and Ed winked at him as Joanie opened the envelope.
‘I’m not taking that, Eddie. You can take it all back,’ she demanded, shoving the envelope back into his hands.
Stuart tried not to laugh as Ed argued with her. ‘They reckon we
’re in for another cold spell next week. Get yourself a new winter coat,’ Ed urged her.
‘It’s nearly March. I’m no spring chicken you know, and the way this arthritis keeps playing me up, I’ll probably be bleedin’ housebound or even dead by next winter, so what do I want a new coat for?’
‘Do you always have to be so fucking cheerful?’ Ed asked her in a sarcastic tone. The thought of losing his favourite aunt just didn’t bear thinking about. He’d been a young boy when his mum had died of TB and Joanie had always been a mother and aunt rolled into one.
The argument over the money continued until Joanie finally gave in. ‘Oh, if you’re gonna drive me mad, give us the bleedin’ envelope back, then. I suppose I can help out some of me friends with their winter fuel bills or something.’
As Joanie walked out into the kitchen to hide it in her special tin, Eddie nudged Stuart. ‘That won’t go towards anyone’s fuel bills. She’ll spend the whole lot down the fucking bingo,’ he said, chuckling.
‘Oi, I heard that. I might have dodgy legs, but there’s sod-all wrong with me ears, you know,’ Joan shouted out.
Laughing, Eddie opened the door to Gary, Ricky and Raymond. ‘So, who’s late today, then?’ he asked sarcastically.
‘Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,’ Ricky replied, laughing.
‘Take these trays up with you. Me plates of meat are giving me gyp today and I can’t be doing with going up and down them bleedin’ stairs,’ Joanie shouted out.
Eddie smiled as he and Stuart took the trays of hot boiled-bacon sandwiches off the kitchen top.
‘Shall I make yous a brew?’ Joanie asked. She knew the boys sometimes preferred to have a little tipple when they were discussing business.
‘No, we’re gonna have something a wee bit stronger today, Auntie. We’ve got something to celebrate,’ Ed replied smirking.
As the apple of her eye walked out the room, Joan made a mental note to watch the main and local news later. She would guess which bulletin was down to her nephew and the boys; she always did.
Frankie said a silent prayer as the screw led her towards the room where DI Blyth was waiting for her. Surely if there was a God, he would ensure Jed got punished for what he had done to her grandfather, she thought to herself.
As soon as Frankie saw Blyth, she knew whatever news she had was not good. ‘Well?’ she asked impatiently as she sat down opposite the DI.
Blyth took Frankie’s hands in her own. She had grown to like the young girl sitting in front of her very much, but there was no point in dressing up the awful truth. Frankie was far too clued-up to believe any bullshit.
‘The results are back and there is insufficient DNA on the samples we tested to give a positive identification to anybody. I’m so sorry, Frankie, I really am.’
Wanting to cry, Frankie chose not to and decided to be stroppy instead. She snatched her hands away from Blyth’s. ‘Can you repeat that in English now?’ she asked sarcastically.
Blyth explained the situation in simplified terms. ‘Look, I know this is a setback, but I can assure you that nobody is giving up on this case. The superintendent in charge is doing his utmost, I promise you that. He was only saying this morning that he is going to try to get a reconstruction of your grandad’s murder on that TV programme, Crimewatch UK. Have you ever watched it, Frankie? It’s presented by Nick Ross and Sue Cook and it’s really good at jogging people’s memories and subsequently getting convictions.’
Frankie was far too disappointed and inwardly upset to discuss some poxy TV programme. She stood up. ‘I like you, so please don’t take this personally, but my dad has always said that the police were useless and the only thing they could catch was a cold and do you know what, I make him fucking right.’
Turning on her heel, Frankie stormed out of the room.
Gary, Ricky and Raymond were all elated to hear that Jed had now met his maker. Even though Stuart had never met Jed, he was also thrilled because he knew how the bloke had torn Eddie’s family apart.
‘So Baldwin was absolutely sure he was dead?’ Raymond asked.
‘Yep, he was positive. He blasted him three times in the head, apparently at close range and he even said he was sure he saw his brains splatter against the windscreen.’
‘What brains?’ Gary exclaimed, laughing.
‘Let’s have a drink to celebrate, eh?’ Ricky said, grabbing a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet.
‘We had the local news on the radio on the way up ’ere. There’s nothing on there yet,’ Gary said.
‘Me and Stu did an’ all. I reckon it’s a bit early for anything to be announced. They’ve probably still got the forensics round there fuck-arsing about,’ Eddie replied.
‘Why don’t you ring your mum, Raymondo? She only lives a spit’s throw away and you know how nosy she is,’ Ricky suggested.
Raymond shook his head. ‘Me dad’s moved back there now and I don’t want him getting wind that we knew anything about this. You know how righteous he is.’
‘What about Pat Murphy? He’s virtually O’Hara’s neighbour, ain’t he? Can’t you pretend you’re ringing him about something else and see if he says anything?’ Gary asked his father.
‘No, that’s way too risky. Murphy’s a pal of Jimmy’s and he’s bound to smell a rat if I ring him up. We’re just gonna have to wait until some bastard rings us and tells us what’s happened. Then we act shocked.’
‘So what did Baldwin say about Jimmy? Didn’t he chase after him or anything?’ Ricky asked.
‘He didn’t really see Jimmy, but he said he was in the passenger seat. Be funny if he’s killed him an’ all, won’t it? Actually, I’ll take that back, because I’m determined to have that bastard for meself and I intend to torture him for hours before I end his useless fucking life.’
Gary chuckled. ‘What about that old pal of yours, Doug? Can’t you ring him, he lives near O’Hara, don’t he?’
‘Dougie recently moved to Hutton Mount. I barely hear from him these days, to be honest. Vicki was Jessica’s pal, weren’t she? And when Jess died, Dougie seemed to give me a wide berth afterwards. Never mind, who needs friends like him when I’ve got my ole mucker, Stu?’ Ed chuckled, playfully punching his lodger on the arm.
‘So, how did you leave it with Baldwin? I take it you ain’t having no more contact with him now, are ya?’ Raymond enquired.
Eddie took a gulp of his drink and prepared himself for the torrent of abuse that was bound to fly his way. ‘Actually, I offered him a job. He won’t be starting yet like, we’ll let all this die down first.’
Gary and Ricky looked at their father in astonishment. ‘Ha, ha, very funny. You’re winding us up, right?’ Gary jeered.
‘No, I ain’t, actually. Listen, if we take on another pair of hands we can cover more ground. Not only that, when Gina has the baby, I don’t wanna be working me nuts off, day in, day out. I was hardly ever at home when yous two were little or when Frankie and Joey were young and I ain’t making the same mistake again. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna retire, I just wanna ease off a bit, if you know what I mean?’
‘Well, surely there’s someone else you can take on? How can you even consider employing some cunt that got your brothers murdered? It’s like Ricky getting topped and me befriending whoever killed him. It ain’t fucking ethical, Dad,’ Gary shouted.
Eddie stood up and slammed his glass against the table. ‘I decide what’s fucking ethical and what isn’t. This is my firm and until I hang me boots up, I make all the decisions. Paulie and Ronny might have been my brothers, but Baldwin had every right to do what he did. Any man with a bit of spunk would have done the same, so like it or not, he will be coming to work for us. He’s big, strong and brave and I’m positive he’ll be a great acquisition to the firm. Now, I’ve said all I’m gonna say on the subject and I don’t wanna hear another word about it, all right?’
Gary and Ricky glanced at one another. They were anything but all right, but as usual, there was sod
-all they could do about it.
‘What about Frankie? Who’s gonna tell her that Jed’s been murdered?’ Stuart asked.
‘I haven’t really thought about that yet, to be honest. I reckon it’s better coming from Joey than anyone else, though,’ Ed replied.
‘She’s bound to think it had something to do with us. Do you think she’ll be all right about it?’ Raymond asked.
‘Course she will. She wanted him dead more than any of us, so I shouldn’t think she’ll care who’s done it. I spoke to Larry again yesterday and he reckons that once Jed’s out the picture, we should have the kids back within a month. Joycie’s offered to have ’em live with her until Frankie gets out. She said she’ll get a better conversation out of them than she does Stanley,’ Eddie said, chuckling.
Ricky smiled. ‘I bet Frankie can’t wait to see ’em again. They must be getting big now.’
Gary lifted his glass up. ‘To Frankie, Georgie and Harry being reunited.’
As everybody raised their glasses, Eddie stood up and beamed. ‘And to Jeddy boy. May you rot in hell, you little cunt.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Three days later, Eddie was beginning to get more anxious as every second passed. There had been no mention of Jed’s murder on the TV or radio and there’d been nothing written in the newspapers about it, either. Even more worryingly, Ed had not heard a dickie bird from Joycie, Pat Murphy or any other bastard that lived near Jimmy O’Hara, and Ed now had a gut instinct that something had gone very wrong indeed.
‘Are you OK, love? You’ve not been yourself the last few days, you’ve been ever so quiet,’ Gina said, putting her arms around her husband’s toned waist.
‘I’m fine, babe. Just ain’t been sleeping that well and it’s making me agitated,’ Eddie replied.
Gina laid her head on his shoulder. She knew something had happened that Ed didn’t want to tell her about and she just hoped he wasn’t in any kind of trouble.
Feeling like a cat on a hot tin roof, Eddie knew he had to do something. ‘I need to pop out for a bit, babe. Dunno how long I’ll be, but I doubt I’ll be back before late afternoon.’
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