She's Out

by Lynda La Plante

  Angela woke and sat up. Connie was by the window. “I just saw a car drive up.”

  Angela listened. She heard a door open and close. The next moment there was a light tap and Gloria appeared at the door with a loaded shotgun. “Did you hear someone?” Angela nodded. “Right, you lock the door and stay put. I’ll see to him.”

  Gloria crept down the landing and almost blasted Dolly. “Cor, you give me a fright!” she exclaimed.

  “What you think you’re playing at? Put the gun away,” snapped Dolly.

  “Somebody come in the house, we all heard it. Shush, listen.” They could hear a chair scraping and then Julia talking. They inched down the stairs together, Gloria in front with the shotgun.

  Julia examined Ester’s ribs. They were cracked, she reckoned, beneath the deep purple bruising.

  “I just pranged the car—steering wheel hit me,” Ester said, gasping with pain.

  Julia produced a large bandage and had just begun to wind it around Ester’s midriff when the door burst open. Ester jumped out of her chair, flinching, as Dolly and Gloria marched in.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Gloria snarled.

  “Yes. Sorry about this, Dolly. I had a bit of an accident in the car. Is it okay if I just stay for a night or two?”

  Dolly folded her arms. “An accident? Who you kidding?”

  Ester turned her bruised face away, changing the subject fast. “Whose is the flash Porsche parked down the lane?”

  Julia looked at Dolly, then back at Ester. “Our lane?”

  “I passed it on my way in.”

  Gloria ran upstairs to ask Connie what car Lennie drove. She was back a moment later. “It’s his.”

  Julia helped Ester to bed and then joined Gloria and Dolly to search the grounds. This time Dolly carried the shotgun, making Gloria hold up the flashlight. They toured the stables, the outhouses, and saw Ester’s Saab.

  “Where did she get this?”

  Julia said Ester had told her she’d traded the Range Rover in.

  “Did she?” Dolly said, already suspicious. They walked together round to the front of the manor, getting more and more anxious as they began to wonder if Lennie was hiding in the house. The beam of the flashlight moved slowly over the grounds, the overgrown bushes and hedgerows, and then swept across the swimming pool.

  “Wait! Move it back, down the deep end of the pool.” Dolly was squinting in the darkness, trying to work out what she had seen. They walked slowly toward what looked like a bundle of rags but as they moved closer, it was obviously the body of a man.

  Lennie was lying face down, his arms floating in the stagnant water in front of him, one leg caught round some old rope.

  Dolly hesitated only for a moment. Already there were guns in the house. A body was all they needed. “Get him out.”

  Julia stared at her. “Are you crazy?”

  “No. We get him out and bury him as fast as we can. It’s almost dawn.”

  “Don’t you think we should call the police?” Julia asked.

  “No, I don’t. What do you think the social services would make of it? Get Connie and Angela—we’ll all have to help drag him out. We’ll put him in the back of Gloria’s car.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Julia said, and Dolly turned on her, her face like parchment in the dim light.

  “Fine. You take care of it, then,” she said coldly, walking away.

  Gloria went and fetched Connie, then waded into the filthy water with a hook, to pull the body closer. “Is it him?”

  Connie broke down, sobbing that she didn’t do it, she never even touched him. Dolly re-joined them, standing slightly apart.

  “Well, look at the gash on his head. He must have cracked it on the side of the pool. Nobody’s accusing you of doin’ anything. So stop howling.” Gloria waded in deeper, drawing the body closer to the steps.

  It took three of them to drag him out of the pool. Julia had pulled a big sheet of polythene from the roof of the house and they heaved the body toward it. They turned out his pockets as Gloria drove the Mini round, then they rolled the body in the polythene and lifted it into the back of the car. “Now what?” Gloria asked. Dolly checked the time: it was almost five o’clock and the builders would be starting at seven. It didn’t give them enough time: and they couldn’t dump it in broad daylight.

  “Drive it back to the lean-to and we’ll leave it there until tomorrow night.”

  “What? In my car?”

  “Yes, Gloria, unless you can think of somewhere better,” Dolly retorted.

  By the time the others had returned to the house, Dolly had a pot of coffee on the stove and some toast made. They trooped in and started to wash their hands, all suddenly quiet.

  Ester walked in. “Everything okay?”

  “What do you think? We got her bleedin’ boyfriend stashed in the back of me car and a kitchen full of guns,” Gloria said angrily.

  Connie broke down into heaving sobs again and this time Dolly turned on her. “Shut up, all of you. Now sit down and listen.” They sat like kids, seemingly grateful that she was taking charge. “You, Connie, go out to his car. Here are his keys and wallet. Any money we take, but burn his cards. You then drive the car back to London, go to his flat, get the log book.” She proceeded to give Connie directions to a garage she knew in North London. She was to sell the car after cleaning it of all fingerprints, leave notes canceling the milkman and newspapers, and make it look as if Lennie had gone away. Then clean any fingerprints from the flat and return to the manor.

  Connie nodded dumbly, not really comprehending.

  “Go on then, get started. Get rid of that car as soon as possible.” Dolly spooned sugar into her coffee. “Right, Julia, and you, Kathleen, go through the local papers, find out when the next funerals are going to be, then check out the grave in the cemetery.”

  “What?” Julia was about to laugh, but again she was thrown off balance by the coldness in Dolly’s eyes.

  “Best way to get rid of a body. Find a dug grave and dump him. Now Ester, that car out back. Is it hot? How did you get it?”

  “I bought it. Well, it’s on the never-never in part exchange for the Range Rover. It’s not nicked, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Okay. Gloria, you go and see Eddie. The sooner those guns are out of here the better.”

  Angela had remained silent throughout. Dolly patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry to get you involved in this, love, but I think it’s the best thing for all of us and with you driving the car that took out Jimmy Donaldson, I just think the less we see of the filth the better.”

  Suddenly hearing the name of the man she had run over made Angela’s whole body tremble. “I won’t say anything,” she said.

  Dolly frowned. “Well, I hope not, and that goes for everyone here. Now I’m going to have a couple of hours’ kip.”

  She walked out. They were impressed by her—but a little afraid of her coldness.

  Kathleen swallowed and nudged Gloria. “Thank God she’s not found out about that business down the sauna. I think she’d bloody kill us.”

  Chapter 10

  The Mini remained in the lean-to, pools of water slowly forming under its wheels. Julia and Kathleen checked the newspapers and then went to the cemetery. Connie was already driving to London to sell the Porsche and clean Lennie’s flat. She parked it a good distance from his block, and set about finding the log book. Having so much to do calmed her.

  Ester stayed in bed with some aspirin. Her ribs hurt and she felt dizzy if she so much as sat up. Dolly slept, the only one of them able to do so. Gloria caught the train to London and went to Brixton to visit Eddie.

  Angela cleaned the kitchen; she was worrying herself into a panic about Jimmy Donaldson. As she cleared the dirty crockery, she saw the big bags of guns left by the kitchen cabinet.

  Mike listened impatiently to his mother fretting because she’d missed her flight so she now had to rearrange her trip to Spain.

&nb
sp; “You have to get out soon, Mum, I mean it.”

  “I will, Mike, but I got to pack the whole place up, you know. At least it’s over, love. She took the cash, said she didn’t ever want to see me again.”

  He hung up and the phone rang again immediately. Mike swore when he heard Angela’s voice and was about to slam it down again when she whispered, “Guns.” She was hysterical, and he had to calm her down before he could piece together what she was saying: Dolly Rawlins had bags full of weapons that belonged to Eddie Radford in the manor.

  Ester walked slowly down the stairs and stopped when she saw Angela furtively hunched over the telephone in the hall.

  “I’m positive, I got to see you.”

  “Who you calling?” Ester asked.

  Angela whipped round, dropping the phone back on the hook. “Just my mum. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

  Ester continued her slow progress down the stairs; she felt terrible. She felt even worse when Norma drove into the yard, tooting the horn to herald her arrival. “Get rid of her, Angela.”

  Norma was hauling out some bags of feed for the horse and smiled as Angela approached. “I was just passing so I thought I’d drop this lot off.”

  “Everybody’s out,” Angela said lamely.

  “Oh well, can you give me a hand then?”

  Angela helped her take a sack out of her Land Rover and into the stables. She could see Gloria’s Mini out of the corner of her eye.

  “Say hello to Julia. Tell her I’ll maybe drop by later, see if she wants a ride.”

  Dolly felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she read the letter. Her application to open Grange Manor House as a children’s home had been turned down. She walked stiffly into the drawing room as Ester appeared.

  “Just a word of advice. That little Angela’s making secret phone calls.”

  Dolly nodded, not listening. Ester shrugged and went back to bed.

  Angela came in a few moments later with a cup of tea. “That Norma brought feed for the horse. She even looked right at the Mini—I was scared stiff.”

  Dolly roused herself and sighed. “I’ve been turned down.”

  She showed the letter to Angela. “But they don’t even say why. Why don’t you call them on Monday?”

  Dolly considered. “Yeah, I got a right to know why they rejected me.”

  Connie drove Lennie’s Porsche across the river and to the small garage Dolly had told her would buy it without asking too many questions. She was calmer now as two mechanics looked it over. She’d told them it was her boyfriend’s and he had just got a job abroad. They continued checking the engine and left the cash negotiation to Ron Delaney, the garage owner, a young, flashy, overconfident man wearing a tracksuit and heavy gold chains. He didn’t waste much time: if he had any suspicions about the car he didn’t mention them but offered a cash deal price well below the “book.” Connie accepted twelve thousand pounds in fifties and twenties, eager to get back to the manor.

  Gloria waited to be searched before entering the visitors’ section at Brixton. When her name was called, she hurried over to Eddie, who was already sitting at the table. He looked her up and down. “You look different,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Yeah, it’s all the fresh air.”

  “What you brought me?”

  “Nothin’. I didn’t have any time and I’ve not got any cash.”

  “Every time you come you got a line of bullshit, Gloria. Last time you said—”

  “I know what I said. It all went wrong, there’s no pay-off.”

  “No? What about the diamonds?”

  “Fakes. So now I got to sell the gear, Eddie. I’m flat broke and I got to pay the rent. There’s no need to flog the lot but if you got a contact then . . .”

  “No way.”

  Gloria leaned closer. “Eddie, I got them at the manor. We’ve already had one bleedin’ search—if they come back and . . .” Eddie peeled off a cigarette paper. Gloria bent closer. “Eddie, she’ll have to have a bit of a cut.”

  “Who?”

  “You know who. Dolly Rawlins. If it wasn’t for her they could have arrested the lot of us. It’s only fair.”

  “Is it?”

  “Oh, come on, Eddie, just gimme a name, I’ll do the business. You know me, you can trust me.”

  “Can I?”

  Gloria pursed her lips. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Eddie opened his baccy tin. “That stash is mine, my insurance for when I get out. Now, if it was just you, maybe I’d be prepared to—”

  “What you mean, if it was just me? Of course it is.”

  “No, it isn’t. Now you want to give her a cut, next she’ll want more, so if she wants to make a deal you tell her to come and see me. Maybe I’ll do a deal with her, maybe I won’t.”

  “She won’t come in here, Eddie.”

  He fingered his tobacco carefully, laying it out on the paper. “Tell her she got no option.”

  Dolly listened as Julia described the cemetery, where the recent burials were, and explained that graves already dug and waiting for funerals were at the far side. Connie returned with the money and handed it over to Dolly. She had seen no one at Lennie’s flat and she had done exactly as Dolly had told her. She was rewarded with a frosty smile. Gloria arrived back later that afternoon and told Dolly what Eddie had said.

  “He wants me to go and see him in the nick?” Dolly was livid. “No way. I’ll sort something. He won’t be out, Gloria, for a very long time. In the meantime they’re here, in the house, and I don’t like it. The sooner we’re rid of them the better.”

  Tommy Malin wanted a fifty percent cut. He agreed to arrange a buyer and they would make the exchange that night. Gloria was furious—Eddie would go out of his mind. Why pay some bloke fifty percent? It was madness.

  “We pay because I want cash and I want to get rid of them,” Dolly said.

  “Then go and talk to Eddie.”

  “No. I can trust Tommy.”

  “You sayin’ you can’t trust Eddie?”

  “Can you?”

  Gloria was gobsmacked.

  “He’s in the nick. Who knows who he’ll hook you up with. We do as I say. We sell the guns to Tommy Malin’s contact.”

  “We could bleedin’ sell them to the Queen Mother for a fifty percent cut,” stormed Gloria, but Dolly walked out. Conversation over.

  Mike ran along the stone corridor and up the stairs to Audrey’s flat. He banged hard on the door and she opened it with the chain still on. “It’s me—come on—let me in.”

  She looked at him fearfully. “What’s happened?”

  “I want you to put in a call for me. I just got a tip-off about something. Maybe we’ll get her after all.”

  “Who?”

  “Who the hell do you think?”

  “Dolly? What do you want me to do?”

  “Call my governor. I know he’s at the station so we’ll go to a pub and you put in a call.”

  “Why me?”

  “You won’t say your name, for Chrissakes. I just want you to tip him off about something.”

  “What?”

  “Guns. Dolly Rawlins has got bags full of guns stashed at the manor.”

  DCI Craigh replaced the phone. He was working overtime and was in a foul mood, but he had come in because Traffic reckoned they had now traced the vehicle used in the hit-and-run that killed James Donaldson. The car was registered to a hire garage called Rodway Motors, but what interested Craigh was that the garage was in the Aylesbury area—not far from Grange Manor House.

  Craigh was about to leave his office when his desk phone rang. He reached out for it just as DI Palmer walked in.

  “We might have got a trace on the vehicle,” Craigh said as he answered the phone.

  Audrey had to cover one ear because of the racket in the pub. She turned to Mike, just able to see him sitting up at the bar, watching her. He gestured for her to hurry up and make the call, then checked his watch. When he looked at her agai
n, she had already dialed. Audrey asked if she was speaking to Detective Chief Inspector Craigh. When he confirmed that she was, she said her carefully rehearsed speech. “Dolly Rawlins is holding a stash of weapons owned by Eddie Radford. The guns are at Grange Manor House in Aylesbury, and worth at least thirty thousand pounds.” Then she replaced the receiver and went to join Mike at the bar.

  “What did he say?” Mike asked.

  “Well, nothin’. You told me to just say what I had to then put the phone down.”

  Mike downed his pint. “I’d better get back home in case he calls me there.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just leave, like you were planning to.”

  Audrey sipped her gin and tonic. “I got to wait, Mike. I’ve missed my flight again, so I’ll have to go back to the travel agent. You know, you could come with me, all of you, Susan and the kids.”

  Mike shook his head. “No way. You don’t seem to understand. I like my job, and I don’t want to lose it.”

  Mike had only just walked into his own home when the phone rang. It was DCI Craigh, and he wanted him back at the station.

  “What’s up?” Mike asked innocently.

  “Just get in here fast as you can,” Craigh said.

  “Okay, I’m on my way.” Mike hung up as Susan and the kids came into the hall.

  “Are we going to the swimming pool, Dad?” his youngest boy said excitedly.

  “No, I’m sorry. I just got a call—they want me in.”

  “But it’s Saturday,” Susan said, frowning.

  “I know, but . . . I got to go.”

  Susan didn’t believe him. She stared at him, her face tight. “Oh yes? Well, I hope they’re paying you overtime—you seem to be on duty all hours lately. You sure you’re not just going off with that girl?”

  Mike sighed. “Sue, don’t keep on about that, all right? You want to call the station and check? Go ahead, but this is getting me down. You question every bloody move I make.”