She's Out

by Lynda La Plante

  “No shotguns, sorry, but I got a desert Eagle that’s the gun to have right now. You want to see it?”

  The officers in the patrol car received the information that the Saab was stolen; the owner had reported the theft two nights ago. The beat officer had succeeded in taking the Saab’s registration number and had flagged down the patrol car, whose window he was now leaning against. “I thought it might be. They drove off fast soon as they saw me, heading back toward Tower Bridge, but they could have turned off anywhere. Lot of old warehouses round that area.”

  The patrol car moved off. As the officer watched it disappear, he turned to continue his street patrol. An old, green-painted van passed him but he didn’t give it a second glance. Inside, Gloria was counting the money, licking her fingers to flick through the notes. “Ten grand! What a bleedin’ rip-off. I couldn’t believe the cheap bastard.”

  “Well, we made up for it with the Saab.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not the point. I hate being skinned. They got a lot for their dough, you know. They were worth at least thirty grand. I mean, two of the rifles would cost you seven big ones alone.”

  Ester headed over Tower Bridge. “Well, I’ll split the money from the car with you. Dolly needn’t know.”

  Gloria smirked. “You mean about it being nicked?”

  “Yeah, we just divide the cash between us.”

  “No way. She gets the lot because she’ll be on the blower to Tommy checking it out, you know her. And besides . . .”

  “Besides what?”

  Gloria stuffed the money up her skirt, wriggling it into her panties. “Somebody kept those shotguns—and you never know . . .”

  “Never know what?”

  “Maybe she’s got something in mind? I mean, she’s pulled a couple of blinders, hasn’t she? Way I see it, let’s keep her happy, see what’s going on in that old brain of hers.”

  Ester laughed. “Why not? In the meantime, you keep that cash warm.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry,” Gloria said, as the wad of notes eased round her panties. “They got bastards holding up motors in traffic jams to nick handbags now, you know. They push a gun into your face and nick your wallet. Shocking world nowadays.”

  DCI Craigh, DI Palmer and Mike headed toward Grange Manor House, accompanied by twelve local officers from Thames Valley along with a search warrant, this time not for diamonds but weapons.

  Julia and Dolly had carried the spare earth to the hedges and scattered it around. They were filthy dirty but the job had been done. They were just putting the spades back into the car when they heard the noise of engines. They froze, looking toward the lane as a police car drove past, followed by two more vehicles.

  “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care, just so long as they’re not coming into the cemetery,” Dolly muttered.

  Julia walked round to the driving seat. She got in and turned to Dolly.

  “Connie really owes us a big favor.”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll pay it back,” Dolly replied as they drove slowly out of the cemetery and onto the lane. “Anyway, enough excitement for one evening. Let’s go back to the house.”

  Chapter 11

  DCI Craigh gave the signal and all vehicle lights went out as the convoy moved slowly down the drive to the manor. The cars stopped and six men moved quickly to the rear of the house, while six more positioned themselves around the front. Craigh, accompanied by Palmer and Mike, walked up the front steps. He tapped lightly and called quietly that it was the police. Receiving no reply, he stepped back, and Palmer hit the lock on the front door with a sledgehammer. At the same time, the men at the rear of the house got a radio message to enter via the kitchen.

  The sound of the forced entry echoed like thunder inside the manor. Down came the front door as the back door splintered.

  Kathleen was putting coal into a scuttle when she heard the crash and the voices shouting: “Police! Police!” She threw the scuttle aside, drew open the cellar window and climbed out.

  Angela almost had heart failure. She was caught midway up the stairs and started screaming in terror.

  Connie was the first to return. Big John had dropped her at the manor gates. She was picked up as she walked down the drive, two uniformed officers holding her between them as they pushed her toward the front door. By now every light was turned on, the place seemed to be swarming with police and she was as terrified as Angela. She thought they were arresting her because of Lennie, while Angela thought they had come for her because of James Donaldson. They were questioned, asked for their names, dates of birth, and shown the search warrant: neither said anything.

  Kathleen was equally terrified and, once out of the cellar, made a run for it, heading toward the woods. Two officers gave chase. By the time she was brought back, gripped tightly by two police officers, she was sobbing hysterically.

  Ester and Gloria drove in just as Kathleen was being escorted from the woods. Both women were asked to step out of their vehicle, place their hands on the top of the car and stand with their legs apart. Gloria was yelling her head off, demanding that a female officer search her, as Ester shouted that she wanted to know what the hell was going on. No one answered. They were shown the warrant as DCI Craigh walked out of the house. He instructed his men to run checks on all the women.

  “What you talking about?” Gloria demanded.

  Kathleen stood by the patrol car, head bowed, still crying.

  “What you think we are? Bleedin’ IRA? I’m from East Ham, she’s from Liverpool, you got this all wrong.” Gloria was yelling while Ester nudged her to shut up. “I want to go to the toilet,” Gloria shouted.

  Ester warned her again to shut up but Gloria hissed back, “Have you forgot I got the dough in me knickers?”

  The police received information that Kathleen O’Reilly was wanted for absconding from a magistrates’ court; there was an outstanding charge of fraud and kiting against her. She was ushered into the patrol car.

  As Dolly and Julia drove up to the manor, they gaped at the scene: Ester and Gloria, spread-eagled over the van, Kathleen sobbing inside the patrol car, and everywhere uniformed officers carrying big-beamed torches.

  “Shit, now what?” Dolly exclaimed.

  “Will you get out of the car?” DCI Craigh gestured for more officers to assist in searching the new arrivals.

  The women were herded into the house and taken into the drawing room where Connie sat with Angela while the room was searched by a uniformed officer. Dolly looked over the search warrant and then handed it back to Craigh. “You mind if I make a pot of tea?”

  He shook his head. If that woman had a stash of guns inside the house she was acting very cool about it, but he wasn’t about to call the men off, far from it. They would comb every inch of the house and grounds.

  The dawn came and with it better visibility. The search continued, both inside and out. The women sat drinking tea, eating sandwiches, but did not offer either to the police.

  At half past eight on Sunday morning, Craigh gave up. He returned to London with Palmer and Mike. They had found nothing and all they had to show for eight hours’ work was a missing felon, Kathleen O’Reilly.

  Dolly examined the smashed doors and broken banister rails. She began making up a list of damages and she would make damned sure they paid through the nose for them. She was angry, not just because of the warrant and the search but because it was obvious they had a tip-off from someone. The question was, which one of them was it? She knew they had been very lucky: a few hours earlier and they would have been caught not only with the guns but with a dead body. The women were all on edge, waiting for the police to leave. They couldn’t talk, too scared they might be overheard. By one o’clock the remaining police called it quits and left. As soon as the women saw them moving out, they all began to talk at once.

  “Eh! Dolly, what about Kathleen?”

  Dolly frowned. “I don’t know what to think.”
<
br />   “I can’t see her being a grass,” Gloria said as she hitched up her skirt.

  “Somebody is, though,” Dolly said.

  Gloria pulled the money from out of her panties. “There you go. I had it stashed in me drawers—about the only thing I’ve had in them for a few years.”

  Dolly arched an eyebrow. “No need to be crude.”

  They counted the money, discussed the sale of the car and then Dolly looked at her watch. “Right, I’m going to have a sleep, then I’m going to church.”

  They were astonished. She yawned, asking if the boiler was on as she needed a bath.

  “Church?” Gloria asked.

  “Yes, church. I want the locals to trust me—I’ve got to if I’m going to open up this place.” Dolly paused. “Even though they turned me down, I’m not finished yet. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy but—”

  “Why don’t you be realistic, Dolly?” Ester said. “You don’t stand a chance in hell. As if they would let kids come here.” She yawned.

  “Why not?” Dolly persisted.

  “Because you’re an ex-con, darlin’. Now maybe you’d stand more of a chance if you applied for teenagers—better still, ex-cons, young ones coming out. They all need a home and—” Suddenly Ester laughed and clapped her hands. “I tell you something, with my contacts, if you got a houseful of young girls we could open this place again. Coin it in! What a perfect cover.”

  “Run this as a brothel?” Dolly asked, not believing what she was hearing.

  “Why not? It ran before and, like I said, I have contacts. Put in the cash we got from the guns, from my car—we’ve at least got a kick-start.”

  Julia turned on her. “Use poor kids coming out of the nick? Is that what you’d do, Ester?”

  “Why not? We’ve already got a couple of tarts here for starters.”

  “Who you bleedin’ callin’ a tart?” Gloria snapped.

  “Oh, come off it. You and Connie have been turning tricks and Angela’s done a couple. All I’m saying is be realistic.”

  Julia was furious. “Well, before I’d get kids on the game, I’d pull a robbery. You make me sick, Ester.”

  “Do I? Well, maybe we should think about pulling a robbery, then. What do you say, Dolly? You know this will never get opened as a foster home so what about it? You got any ideas?”

  Dolly moved slowly to the door. “The only thing I’ve got on my mind right now is trying to find out which one of you shopped me. Somebody here did—one of you did—and after I sort that out I’m going to bloody well open this place up, whatever anyone thinks.”

  They waited until the door closed behind her, then started looking from one to another: was one of them a grass?

  Gloria sighed. “What about Kathleen, then? She was the only one of us the filth had anything on. Maybe she was scared and wanted to make a deal.”

  “I told you, Kathleen’s a lot of things but she’s not a grass,” Julia said.

  “That leaves one of us in here, doesn’t it?” Gloria said, looking at Ester.

  “It’s not fucking me,” Ester snapped.

  Julia opened the door. “This is ridiculous. We’re all knackered. Why don’t we do what Dolly’s doing and have some kip? We’ve been up all night.”

  Dolly could hear toilets flushing, baths running. She was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. Ester tapped lightly on the door and peeked in. “Dolly, can I have a word?”

  Dolly lay back on the pillow. “Sure, sit down.”

  “Look, I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn down there but I was just tired and right now I need a roof over my head.”

  Dolly nodded. “Sure. Anything else?”

  “Maybe check out Angela. She’s been making phone calls.” Ester backed out and closed the door.

  Dolly sat up and thumped her pillow. Next to turn up was Connie. She wanted Dolly to know that she believed in the project and was sure it would work, she loved the old house. “It wasn’t me, Dolly, I wouldn’t have told anyone about the guns, I mean, I wouldn’t, not with Lennie here, now would I?”

  Dolly smiled ruefully. “No, love, but Lennie could have got us all in hot water.”

  Connie was near to tears. “I know, I know.”

  A while after she left, Gloria tapped at the door. One by one they came, just to make sure Dolly knew it wasn’t them.

  The only one who did not appear was Angela.

  She was lying wide awake in her bed, and jumped when Dolly walked in and closed the door behind her. “I want to talk to you, Angela, and I want you to be honest with me. Who have you been calling?” Angela burst into tears and Dolly came and sat on the edge of her bed. “Now don’t cry, just tell me. We all know you’re always making phone calls.”

  “My mum and—”

  Dolly listened as Angela blurted out how frightened she was about being arrested for running over Jimmy Donaldson. Between sobs and gasps she told Dolly about her boyfriend, who was married with kids, and now didn’t want anything to do with her.

  Dolly patted her hand. “Well, maybe it’s best that you’re here.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  She cradled Angela in her arms, comforting her, asking if she wanted to keep the baby. When Angela sobbed that she didn’t know, Dolly assured her that, as long as she was at the manor, she and the baby would have a home.

  When Dolly came out Connie was passing Angela’s room.

  “She’s pregnant,” Dolly said.

  Connie looked at the closed door, then back at Dolly. “So that’s why she’s been on the phone, is it?”

  “Don’t tell the others. She doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  Connie scooted down the stairs and into the kitchen. Gloria was sitting with Ester as Julia washed up.

  “Okay, this is what we’ve decided, Connie,” Ester said.

  Connie’s eye was caught by a stack of bits and pieces of jewelry.

  “We’re all giving up what we can, you know, just to make it look like we’re really behind this foster home crap. We don’t think Dolly stands a chance in hell but . . .”

  Connie pulled out a chair and sank into it. “I got a few pieces I can give.”

  “Good. It’s just that she’s got to trust us, Connie. We think she may be coming up with something. We don’t know but Gloria said three shotguns are missing.”

  “Yeah, I took them into the gym, they’re in a locker there.”

  Ester turned to Julia. “See, what did I tell you? I knew she was planning something.”

  Julia was putting away the dishes. “So we all make out we love this place, is that right?”

  Connie pouted. “But I do.”

  “So do I,” said Julia.

  “Yeah, well, that’s ’cos of that bleedin’ horse. You’re never off the friggin’ thing.”

  Julia glared at Gloria. “Okay, so I love Helen of Troy, but I also like this place.”

  Ester slapped the table. “For Chrissakes, can we get done with The Sound of Bleedin’ Music? All I am saying is she doesn’t trust us.”

  “Well, I’m not the fuckin’ grass,” Gloria said angrily.

  “I think it’s Angela,” Ester said.

  “No, she’s not, she’s pregnant,” Connie said, and they all turned on her. She shrugged her shoulders. “She is, Dolly just told me, that’s why she’s been making all these calls.”

  Gloria stood up. “Well, she’s a bloody little liar. She’s not pregnant.”

  “How do you know?” Ester demanded.

  “Because she borrowed my Tampax yesterday.” Dolly walked in and Gloria whipped round. “We think it’s Angela. She’s not pregnant, Dolly, she’s a liar.”

  Dolly clenched her hands in front of her. “Is she? Well, one of you get her down here, then. Get her in here right now.”

  Angela was hauled out of her bed by Gloria and pushed down the stairs. She crept into the kitchen like a frightened rabbit.

  “How many weeks gone are you?” demanded Dolly.

  “Two months,”
Angela said.

  Gloria pushed her. “No, you’re not. Why did you borrow my Tampax if you was up the spout?”

  “Because I had some blood, I did, I swear on my life.”

  Connie went over to her and slipped her arms around her. “Don’t cry, we believe you.”

  “I fucking don’t,” yelled Gloria.

  Dolly scratched her head, and then said to Julia, “Take her upstairs and examine her.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Dolly, this is ridiculous,” Julia said.

  “Is it? Well, I want to know, because if she isn’t then she lied to me and she could have been lying from day one. Somebody is tipping off the police, so examine her. Go on, do it.”

  Julia led Angela out of the room, then Ester tapped Dolly’s shoulder. “This is for you. It’s from us, all of us. We want to help out in any way we can, Dolly. Some of it’s gold and—”

  Gloria pointed. “That tie-pin belonged to Jack Dempsey and that Rolex Eddie gave me. It could be a fake, though,” she added.

  Dolly picked up pieces of the jewelry, strangely moved even as she noted that they were still wearing their best items. But it was, as the old saying goes, the thought that counted.

  About ten minutes later Julia returned. “She was telling the truth. I think she’s more like three months than two. You can often have a few spots, even a period, during the early months.”

  Dolly felt awful but she had needed to know.

  “So you think it’s Kathleen?” Gloria asked.

  “I don’t know—I just don’t know,” Dolly said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I mean maybe, just maybe, it’s no one. Have any of you had dealings with DCI Craigh before?”

  No one could recall having been arrested by him on a previous occasion. Connie said that she quite liked him, he’d been very nice to her; it was the younger bloke she didn’t like.

  Angela was suddenly standing like a child in the doorway.

  Dolly reached for her and took her hand. “I’m sorry about that, love, but I needed to know.”

  Angela backed away, pressing her body against the wall.

  “We’re just talking about the coppers,” Dolly said.