Survivor: Only the strongest will remain standing . . .

by Roberta Kray

  ‘I bet.’

  ‘You can bet all you like, but it’s true.’

  ‘Liar!’

  ‘Not!’

  Brenda gave her a hard look. ‘If you are lying, Lolly Bruce, you’re going to be in big trouble. They’ll take you away and lock you up. Do you understand?’

  ‘I’m not. I’m telling the truth. I went to see Jude yesterday. I did!’

  FJ strode across the kitchen, leaned down and pushed his face into hers. ‘Then you must have been in on it too. What did you do – hold the knife for him?’

  ‘Jude didn’t kill Amy!’

  Brenda pulled her son away. ‘Leave it out,’ she said. ‘If that Jude Rule is responsible, the law will find out soon enough. He won’t be able to hide a thing like that. There are tests and all sorts they can do. Let’s wait and see, huh?’

  FJ curled his lip. ‘I’m telling you, it was that bloody creep. He did for Amy. And Tony spent half the night down the nick because of it.’

  ‘No one’s accusing your brother. He was with your Uncle Jim all day, wasn’t he? He’s got a rock-solid alibi.’

  ‘Good thing and all.’ FJ stood by his mother, throwing evil glances at Lolly. ‘When your boyfriend gets sent down, you’ll be going with him. That’s what happens to lying little brats. I’d get your stuff packed if I was you.’

  18

  Over the next three days, Lolly listened in to every conversation, to every bit of rumour and gossip about the murder of Amy Wiltshire. She learned that Jude had been interviewed and released by the police, but that didn’t stop people from believing he was guilty. And Tracy Kitts was the loudest of his accusers. She was putting it around that Jude must have done it, that he wasn’t right in the head, that he blamed Amy for the break-up and had gone looking for her on the Tuesday afternoon she was killed.

  Lolly desperately wanted to see Jude, but knew better than to try and contact him. It was better they stayed apart so no one, and especially the police, could claim they were conspiring. She stayed away from Terry too, hoping that he understood her reasons. Usually, on a Friday, there were lots of deliveries to be made but it was too risky at the moment. FJ was watching her like a hawk – and perhaps the law were too. She had no way of knowing.

  It was the end of the school week, a time she usually looked forward to, but not on this occasion. The weekend loomed ahead, two whole days of being trapped in the house with the Cecils. Usually she could get out and about, but that seemed unlikely with the current situation. Brenda would be keeping tabs, making sure she knew exactly where Lolly was.

  Lolly’s thoughts flipped back to Jude. If the police had let him go, then they couldn’t be convinced of his guilt. Or were they just waiting for forensics to get back? She’d seen stuff on telly about that and although she didn’t understand all the ins and outs, she knew they could test for blood on people’s clothes. Had Jude touched Amy when he’d found her? It would be natural, surely, to crouch down and make sure that she was dead.

  Lolly wished she’d asked him, but it all been so fast, so panicked, that the details had gone out of the window. She could only cross her fingers and hope. Maybe he hadn’t checked. Maybe it had been so obvious that he hadn’t needed to. There was no point in going over and over it in her head, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Lolly was so distracted she didn’t notice the panda car parked outside the pawnbroker’s until she was about to turn down the alley that led round the back. Her heart dropped like a stone. The police must have come for her. She pulled in a sharp breath, her first instinct being to run. But where could she go? And how? The little money she had was hidden in the mattress upstairs in the house.

  She stood for thirty seconds staring at the empty car before her gaze slid over to the shop. The sign on the door had been flipped to CLOSED, even though it was only four-thirty. Brenda must be in the kitchen, sitting with the cops, waiting for her. She tried to think of somewhere she could hide but knew she couldn’t hide for ever. They’d catch up with her eventually. And it was cold outside. A bitter wind snapped at her face.

  Eventually, with no other options, Lolly set off down the alley. She trudged along the narrow passage with her shoulders hunched and her head down. She was about to be exposed as a barefaced liar and there was nothing she could do about it. Except to try and explain. Would they give her the chance to do that? But they wouldn’t believe anything she said now. She had failed to tell the truth and would have to accept the consequences.

  When Lolly walked through the kitchen door what she expected were uniforms and accusations, but all she found was an empty room. She could hear raised voices, however, coming from the shop at the front. The most powerful of these was Brenda’s, its boom travelling back along the hall and through the living room.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this. It’s harassment, bleedin’ harassment! My boy’s already told you everything he knows. Why do you need to speak to him again? It’s not on. I’m not having it.’

  ‘We’re just doing our job, Mrs Cecil.’

  ‘I didn’t do nothin’,’ Tony said. ‘Why haven’t you arrested that bastard, Jude Rule? He’s the one you’re looking for. He’s the one who did her in.’

  ‘If you could step this way. Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be.’

  ‘It’s a bloody liberty,’ Brenda said. ‘You’ll be hearing from our solicitor.’

  ‘If your son has nothing to hide, he’s got nothing to be worried about.’

  ‘Bollocks!’ Freddy retorted. ‘We all know what you lot are like. It’s a fuckin’ stitch-up, that’s what it is.’

  Lolly crept closer, trying not to make a sound. She had entered the house convinced she was for the high jump, but it seemed the police weren’t here for her at all. It was Tony they were after. She hovered in the hall and wrapped her arms around her chest, relieved and grateful for the last-minute reprieve. Maybe Tony was the guilty one. He was capable of murder, she was sure of it. He had a nasty streak and a temper too.

  There were a few more protests before she finally heard the door to the pawnbroker’s open and close. Lolly shot back to the kitchen, went into the yard and pretended to be just arriving. By the time she made her second entrance, Brenda and Freddy were in the living room going at it hammer and tongs.

  ‘None of this is my fault. What the hell are you blaming me for?’ Freddy said.

  ‘Jim’s your bleedin’ brother!’

  ‘So what? I’m not his keeper, am I? I don’t know what he gets up to.’

  ‘Oh, don’t give me that! I wasn’t born yesterday.’

  Lolly made some noise, closing the back door with a bang to make her presence felt. The voices immediately stopped. Brenda came into the kitchen, gave a brusque nod, went over to the sink and started filling a pan with water.

  Lolly hung up her coat and bag in the hall. She could hear Freddy striding up the stairs, escaping to the only place in the house where his wife couldn’t get to him – the lavatory. When she got back there was a bag of potatoes on the table.

  ‘Make yourself useful and peel some spuds,’ Brenda said.

  Lolly sat down, picked up a knife and started work. She wanted to ask about Tony, about why he’d been taken in again, but didn’t dare. Brenda had a face on her like a slapped arse; she stood over the pan, muttering to herself.

  It was only a few minutes before FJ came in from school. He dumped his bag on the floor, put his head round the living-room door and then withdrew it again.

  ‘Where’s Tony? He said he’d be back early. We’re supposed to be going to the football this evening.’

  ‘You’re brother ain’t going nowhere,’ Brenda said. ‘He’s down the nick again.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Old Bill called round, didn’t they? Not five minutes since.’

  ‘Jesus! Why? What for?’

  Brenda wiped her hands on her apron and turned to look at him. ‘’Cause they just found out your Uncle’s Jim’s a filthy, lying, scumbag cheat, tha
t’s why! Seems he wasn’t at the car lot when he said he was. He cleared off about two o’clock to see his fancy piece and left Tony to lock up.’

  FJ took a moment to digest this piece of news. His mean little face twisted as he struggled with the implications. ‘So what are they saying, the law?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Brenda answered. ‘Tony told them he stayed until five, but they’ve found some would-be customer who claims he called by around four o’clock and there was no one there. All locked up and no sign of anyone.’

  Lolly listened while she peeled the spuds. If Tony had cleared off early, then he might have gone to meet Amy. She thought back to the evening in question, remembering that Tony had been here when she got back. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t done it. There would have been time between the point when Jude left Amy and when he found her again for Tony to have killed her and to have run back to the house. She had no idea how long he’d been home when she arrived. It might only have been a few minutes.

  ‘Where was he then?’ FJ asked.

  ‘God knows,’ Brenda said. ‘But not on the Mansfield, that’s for sure. He didn’t go near that girl. And he only lied about being at the lot to cover for your Uncle Jim. Tony couldn’t say Jim wasn’t there, could he? Not without landing him right in it with your Auntie Rose. And now look where it’s got him. This is all Jim’s bleedin’ fault; that cheating bastard has never been able to keep it his pants.’

  ‘It’s going to look bad for him, though, ain’t it – our Tony, I mean – saying he was there when he weren’t. The law are going to think —’

  ‘I know what the law are going to think!’ Brenda snapped. ‘What they always think about the likes of us.’ She stomped across the kitchen, through the living room and into the hall. ‘Freddy? What the hell are you doing up there? Your son’s down the bloody nick in case you’d forgotten.’

  ‘What do think I’m doing? If I need a slash, I need a slash.’

  ‘It doesn’t take half an hour to empty your bladder. Have you called Bob Reynolds yet? Tony needs a brief, for God’s sake. Someone better than the duty solicitor.’

  ‘So why don’t you do it? You’re standing by the bloody phone!’

  ‘Jesus,’ Brenda muttered.

  Lolly listened as Brenda flicked through the pages of the address book, picked up the receiver and made the call about her son. Just as she was finishing, Freddy came downstairs again.

  ‘Are you going over to the nick or what?’ Brenda asked. ‘Reynolds is on his way.’

  ‘What’s the rush? On his way means half an hour at least. There’s no point me sitting down there doing nothin’. I won’t be able to see Tony. He’ll be banged up until Reynolds shows his face.’

  ‘Might as well be there doing nothin’ as here.’

  The two of them came into the kitchen. Freddy lit up a fag, went over to the sink and gazed out of the window at the yard. He pulled furiously on the cigarette, puffing out the smoke in thick grey clouds. ‘Bloody idiots! Stupid fuckers! It’s just typical.’

  Brenda gave a snort and slammed a pan down on the hob. ‘What’s typical is your bloody brother getting his end away when he’s supposed to be at work.’

  ‘I’m not saying it’s right, but this ain’t all his fault. Maybe you should be looking a little closer to home.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  Freddy twisted round and pointed his fag at Lolly. ‘That’s your bleedin’ problem,’ he said angrily, ‘not Jim. She’s the one providing an alibi for the murdering bastard who did Amy in. If it wasn’t for her, Tony wouldn’t be banged up right now.’

  Lolly’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened with shock. She hadn’t expected the attack, hadn’t seen it coming.

  FJ, following his father’s lead, turned on her too. ‘Yeah, she’s the one who’s lying. It ain’t right. Someone should get the bloody truth out of her. Someone should make the little bitch come clean.’

  Lolly looked to Brenda, hoping for some support, but she should have known better. One glance at the woman’s face told her everything. The whole family was against her. She shrank into her chair, afraid of what might happen next. In a few minutes she had gone from feeling relieved to feeling terrified. She had never been liked but now she was the enemy.

  19

  Stanley Parrish could feel the tension in the air when he walked into Connolly’s. A young girl had been murdered and the entire community was in shock. Although acts of violence were not uncommon in the East End, this was something different, and with the killer still on the loose there was an edgy nervousness, a fear that he might strike again. There was none of the usual noisy chatter. Instead people talked in hushed tones, their body language tight, their faces drawn and etched with worry.

  Stanley took a seat at the back, sat down and opened his paper. The killing was still headline news in the Saturday edition and although the police had taken several people in for questioning no one had, as yet, been charged. He scanned through the article but didn’t learn anything new. There was a picture of Amy Wiltshire in her school uniform, her blue eyes staring directly into the camera, her mouth in a wide smile. A girl who knew she was pretty. A girl who had the world at her feet.

  He was still staring at the photograph when the waitress came over to take his order.

  ‘Hello again,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

  He looked up to see Maeve Riley standing there with her notepad. ‘Ah, hello. Very well, thank you. And you?’

  ‘I’m good, ta.’ She nodded towards the paper. ‘Dreadful business, isn’t it? She used to come in here, you know. I still can’t believe she’s dead. It’s just not right. She was only a kid. There are some terrible people, aren’t there? I mean, who could do something like that?’

  Stanley shook his head. ‘I’m sure they’ll catch him.’

  ‘I hope so. I really do. It’s enough to give you nightmares.’ She paused and then said, ‘So what brings you back to Kellston? Any joy with finding Angela’s relatives?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. That’s why I’m here. I thought I might have another word with Brenda Cecil, see if anything has surfaced since my last visit.’

  ‘Oh,’ Maeve said, the corners of her mouth twisting down a little. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’

  Stanley raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t think so?’

  Maeve gave a shrug. ‘It’s just with… You do know her son was going out with Amy Wiltshire?’

  ‘No, heavens, I had no idea.’

  ‘Well, it’s up to you, but you might not get the best of welcomes at the moment.’

  ‘Of course. I understand. Thank you for letting me know.’

  ‘Especially with Tony being…’ She glanced away, looked back and lowered her voice. ‘I probably shouldn’t say but the police have had him down the nick a couple of times. I suppose that’s normal, him being the boyfriend and all, but I shouldn’t think Brenda’s too happy about it.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Maybe I’ll give it a miss for today.’

  Maeve nodded. ‘It might be wise. So what can I get you?’

  Stanley ordered a full English and a mug of tea, deciding he needed some fuel before planning his next move. He wouldn’t normally spend the money – finances were always tight – but yesterday he’d received a small cheque for an insurance job he’d done a few months ago. Anyway, he needed cheering up. He had that sense of despondency that comes from getting nowhere on a case. To date, all his attempts to track down Angela’s family had ended in failure. It didn’t help that he wasn’t even sure of her real name.