Streetwise

by Roberta Kray

Danny came back with a couple of shorts on a tray. He kept his right arm down by his side and carried the tray in his left hand. He sat down beside Silver and gave Ava a nod. ‘I hear the filth have been giving you grief.’

  ‘You could say that. They’re trying to figure out why Jeremy Squires kept saying my name. I don’t suppose you have any idea, do you?’

  ‘Me?’ Danny said. ‘Not a clue. Sorry, love. I only met the man for five minutes, walked out to the car park with him and next thing I know some bastard’s put a bullet in my arm.’

  ‘So he didn’t mention my name to you?’

  ‘Nah, he didn’t. Did you know the bloke, then?’

  ‘No,’ Ava said. ‘I didn’t. That’s what makes it all so weird.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ said Danny dismissively. ‘Cops can’t arrest you for being called Ava. Least they couldn’t last time I looked. They’ll soon get sick of hassling you, sweetheart, move on to some other poor sod.’

  Ava was quickly beginning to realise that the meeting was a waste of time. Danny, if he knew anything, wasn’t going to spill the beans. She was still in the dark and that was the way it was going to stay.

  Silver looked at Chris again. ‘We heard about Jenna,’ she said slyly. ‘Is it true about her and Wilder?’

  ‘Why should I care? She’s my ex not my missus. I don’t give a fuck what she does.’

  ‘Wilder, though,’ said Silver, deliberately goading him. ‘Why him? Is she trying to piss you off or what?’ She smiled, showing a row of small white pearly teeth. ‘The bitch deserves a slap. You want me to give her a slap for you, babe?’

  ‘I think I can fight my own battles, thanks all the same.’

  ‘Well, if you change your mind…’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Silver, disappointed, turned her attention to Ava. ‘So where are you from, then?’

  From here, originally. From Kellston.’

  ‘She’s Ted Gold’s daughter,’ Danny said. ‘I told you that.’

  ‘Jimmy Gold,’ Ava said. ‘Ted’s my uncle.’

  Danny frowned. ‘Jimmy? I don’t remember him. Did he work down the car lot?’

  ‘Sometimes.’ Ava wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her dad. Ted was a loud flamboyant character and her father, a quieter sort, had always been in his shadow.

  ‘So where do you live?’ Silver asked.

  ‘Here in Kellston.’

  ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘Market Square.’

  ‘Really? What number?’

  Ava was reluctant to tell her – she didn’t see why she wanted to know – but couldn’t think, off the cuff, of a good enough reason as to why she shouldn’t. ‘Forty-six,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Forty-six,’ Silver repeated carefully as though she was mentally filing the information away. ‘So why don’t you ever come round to Walpole Close if you live so near?’

  ‘I do come round. I’m there every morning.’

  Silver flashed her teeth again. ‘You know what I mean. How come you never stay over? Or are you two not…’

  Ava was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Silver had no boundaries when it came to social interaction. The girl was either devoid of any social graces or just deliberately provocative. Ava glanced at Chris, smiling thinly. ‘Why don’t you tell her, hun. Why don’t you explain why I never stay over?’

  ‘Because it’s none of her business,’ Chris said. ‘Silver should learn to keep her nose out of things that don’t concern her.’

  But Ava could see that his attempt to deflect was only going to inflame her curiosity rather than satisfy it. Before Silver embarked on a closer interrogation, she quickly piped up, ‘Actually, it’s because of the dog. He doesn’t like being left on his own. And he doesn’t get on with other dogs so…’

  ‘Oh, what kind of a dog is he?’ Silver asked.

  ‘A Staffie,’ Chris said, obviously feeling that he now needed to contribute something to the ongoing lie. ‘He’s a Staffie called George. Now can we move on or would you like to know what brand of dog food he eats and where he likes to shit?’

  Silver giggled. ‘You’re so funny. Ain’t he funny, Danny?’

  ‘Yeah, bleedin’ hilarious,’ Danny said. ‘I need another drink. I’ll get a round in, yeah?’ He stood up and looked down at Chris. ‘Give us a hand, huh. I can’t carry all the glasses with this arm.’

  As soon as the two of them had left, Silver leaned forward and said conspiratorially, ‘So what’s the real story with you and this Squires bloke? It’s okay, you can tell me. I won’t tell another soul.’

  Ava stared at her. ‘What?’

  ‘Why was he saying your name, hun? There must have been something going on. Were you and him… you know?’

  ‘There was nothing going on, nothing at all. I’ve never met the bloke before in my life.’

  Silver tapped the side of her nose with a finger. ‘Oh, okay, I get you. Hush, hush, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll keep shtum.’

  ‘There’s nothing to keep shtum about. I’ve never —’ But Ava quickly shut up again. She suspected that the more she protested her innocence, the guiltier she would seem and so decided to change the subject. ‘How long have you and Danny been together?’

  ‘Not long.’ Silver swept back her long fair hair and laughed. ‘You know what my dad says about him? He says he should be fed to the pigs. He says it’s a shame that bullet didn’t go six inches to the left. He says the world would be a better place if Danny Street was dead and buried and the worms were feeding on his corpse.’

  Ava’s eyes widened. ‘Your dad seems to have a lot to say on the matter.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s a complete bastard.’

  Ava couldn’t work out if Silver was deliberately trying to shock her or if she had no filter at all on what came out of her mouth. She glanced towards the bar, hoping that Chris would come back soon.

  Silver placed her hand over Ava’s. Her fingers were cool, but her eyes were bright and glittering. ‘You know what I think, hun? I think you and me are going to be the very best of friends.’

  Ava felt her heart sink. With all the shock, horror and heartache of the last few days the very last thing she needed was a friend like Silver.

  43

  DI Valerie Middleton ran through the CCTV coverage for the tenth time, peering intently at the screen. She watched as the two men, Squires and Danny Street, came out of Belles. Danny stopped to light a cigarette. Squires kept on walking until he was out of view. The film was too grainy to read the expression on his face. He was walking quickly, though, as if he was in a hurry. There was about thirty seconds of Solomon Vale standing alone by the entrance – no one else going in or coming out – before Vale sprinted over towards the part of the car park that wasn’t covered by the cameras.

  She went back to the start and ran it again, this time freezing the action as soon as Street and Squires appeared at the door. She moved her face closer to the computer and then sat back and fiddled with the zoom button until she’d homed in on the lower part of the jacket Squires was wearing.

  Just as she was printing out a copy of the image, there was a knock on the office door.

  ‘Come in.’

  Jeff Butler appeared, holding aloft a brown paper bag. ‘Lunchtime update,’ he said. ‘I hope you haven’t eaten already.’

  Valerie glanced towards the clock on the wall. It was one fifteen. ‘God, is it that time already?’

  ‘It certainly is, and I’ve got some news.’

  ‘Good, I hope.’

  ‘It’s certainly interesting.’ Butler sat down, put the bag on her desk and took out two large takeaway cups. ‘I got a coffee for you, tea for me, and a couple of sandwiches. What do you prefer, ham or cheese and tomato?’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll have the cheese.’

  Butler delved into the bag again and passed her the sandwich. He peeled the wrapper off his own, took a hearty bite and started chewing.

  ‘Hey, don’t keep me in suspense
,’ Valerie said. ‘I don’t care if you talk with your mouth full.’

  Butler grinned and swallowed. ‘But my poor old mum, God rest her soul, would turn in her grave. “Manners maketh man” was one of her favourite sayings, along with “Get your feet off the furniture; you’re not living in a bleedin’ doss house.”’ He laughed and then looked thoughtful for a second. ‘But I digress. Sorry. What I came to tell you is that we’ve got information from the bank about Squires’s personal bank account, and guess what?’

  ‘Oh, please don’t make me guess. I’m no good at guessing.’

  ‘Okay, then. This is how it goes. At two forty-two on Saturday afternoon, Jeremy Squires went to his local branch and pulled out ten thousand big ones in cash.’

  Valerie gave a low whistle. ‘Now that is interesting. I take it the wife can’t shed any light on why he did that?’

  ‘Not a clue. And as the money wasn’t found on him, I’d say our Mr Squires gave it to someone else.’

  ‘Like Danny Street, for example.’

  ‘It is the first name that springs to mind.’

  Valerie tore a corner off her sandwich. ‘And why would he do that?’

  ‘Only two reasons you’d hand over an amount like that in cash – either a dodgy deal or blackmail.’

  ‘And if you were a betting man?’

  ‘Blackmail,’ Butler said. ‘If it was a deal, what was the hurry? Why would he have to rush over to Belles, missing the start of a dinner party that had probably been on his calendar for weeks? No, this was something that happened quickly, that took him by surprise. We checked his phone and he got a call around midday from a number we can’t trace. It was from a pay-as-you-go, but it’s been disconnected.’

  ‘So, if we’re presuming blackmail, we’re probably talking a woman.’

  ‘Cherchez la femme,’ Butler said.

  ‘Well, we haven’t got far to look. The lady’s name was clearly on his mind when he took two bullets in his back.’

  ‘Ava Gold?’

  ‘The very same.’ Valerie ate some of her sandwich and took a sip of coffee. ‘All the connections are there. She works for the Streets and probably not just as a driver. They pick a victim, set him up, take a few compromising snaps and Bob’s your uncle – a handy and virtually risk-free stream of income in these difficult financial times.’

  ‘Ah, the old honeytrap scenario. Simple but effective.’

  ‘Especially when the man has a reputation to maintain.’

  ‘And a wife to keep happy.’

  Valerie reached across to the corner of her desk, removed the sheet of paper from the printer and put it in front of him. ‘Look at this,’ she said. ‘Squires has got his hand in his pocket, but I’m sure there’s something else there too. You can’t see it clearly, but…’

  Butler peered down at the printout. ‘Yes, you could be right. We’ll get the techie boys to take a look, see if they can clean up the image.’

  ‘If it was a set of photos, it would account for why Danny Street was so desperate to get them back. But what happened to them next? Do you think he had them at the hospital?’

  Butler shook his head. ‘No, he wouldn’t have taken the risk, not after a shooting. And they weren’t found at the scene.’

  ‘Which leaves Solomon Vale. He probably gave him the cash too.’

  ‘And the chances of Vale admitting to any of that?’

  ‘Zero,’ Valerie said.

  Butler chewed on his sandwich for a while. ‘If we’re right about this and it was a blackmail scam, then where does Lydia Hall fit in?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet, but she was friends with Ava.’ Valerie frowned while she thought about it some more. ‘Maybe the two of them were in it together. Lydia could have provided the names of possible victims – she’d know who flashed the cash at Beast – and then Ava set them up. Danny Street puts the screws on and collects the money. Squires gets shot on the night of the pay-off, Lydia feels guilty about her part in it all and kills herself.’

  Butler smiled. ‘It’s a theory.’

  ‘Got a better one? And it would explain why Lydia didn’t call Ava after she heard the news.’

  ‘Although she did go to Market Square.’

  ‘Yes, but she thought Ava had gone away for the weekend. She didn’t expect to see her there.’

  Butler sat back, putting his hands behind his head. ‘But if you’re right, then who the hell shot Squires? Who’s got the motive? His blackmailers aren’t going to want him dead. It’s the very last thing they want. The police start sniffing around, poking into bank accounts and the whole gig goes up in smoke.’

  ‘Maybe we should pull in Ava Gold, have another word.’

  ‘No, let’s hold fire for now. We’ll do a bit more digging first, see what else we can find out.’

  ‘What did Danny Street say when you asked him about Ava?’

  Butler lowered his arms, folding them across his chest instead. ‘Said he didn’t know anyone called Ava. When I reminded him of the Ava Gold who’s been driving his brother around he claimed to have forgotten all about her. Said she’d slipped his mind, that the two of them hadn’t been going out for long.’

  Valerie gave him a thin smile. ‘So they are an item, then.’

  ‘Looks that way.’

  There was a knock on the door and DS Higgs put her head round. ‘Excuse me, guv.’ She flapped some sheets of paper in the air. ‘We’ve just had news from Glasgow. You’re going to want to see this.’

  44

  Valerie took the three sheets from Higgs’s hand. ‘What have we got?’

  ‘Death certificate for a Karen Hall. Turns out she was Lydia’s mother. She died from an overdose in February this year. In Glasgow, like we thought. We’ve been able to trace her birth certificate and Lydia’s too.’

  Valerie’s face changed as she glanced through the copies of the documents. She sucked in a breath and released it as quickly. ‘Well, that’s a turn up for the books.’

  ‘Thought you’d say that, guv.’

  Butler sat forward, his eyes filled with anticipation. ‘I hate to break up the party, ladies, but would either of you two care to share?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Valerie, passing over the sheets of paper. ‘Here, why don’t you take a look for yourself.’

  Butler barked out a laugh as he read. ‘God, I didn’t see that coming.’

  ‘A blast from the past,’ Valerie said.

  ‘It’s that all right. Jesus, I didn’t think I’d be seeing that name again in a hurry.’ He read from one of the documents. ‘Karen Hall, née Quinn. Yeah, she was one of Tommy’s daughters.’

  Valerie glanced up at DS Higgs. ‘You’d better sit down.’

  Higgs pulled up a chair next to DCI Butler. ‘You weren’t around when the Quinns were operating, were you, guv?’

  ‘Do you mind?’ he said. ‘It must be forty years since Joe Quinn was murdered. I’m not that bleeding old.’

  ‘Sorry, guv.’

  ‘Mind, when I joined up there were still plenty of cops around who did remember him. They were a powerful family, the Quinns. Not quite in the Kray league, but close enough. They ran Kellston before Terry Street took over. Joe was a right nasty bastard by all accounts.’

  Valerie, who had only a sketchy history of the family, said, ‘Wasn’t he murdered by his sons?’

  Butler gave a nod. ‘One of them. The other, Tommy – that was Lydia’s grandfather – got done for attempting to dispose of the body. His missus took off as soon as the verdict came in, cleared off to Spain and took the kids with her.’

  ‘Karen obviously came back at some point.’

  ‘No father on the birth certificate for Lydia,’ Butler said, glancing down. ‘Could be useful to know who that was.’

  Valerie looked at Higgs. ‘Do we have a marriage certificate for Karen?’

  ‘Still trying to track it down. That’s if she ever did get married; she could just have changed her name.’

  Valerie took two large swigs
of coffee. She was in need of a caffeine boost, something to stimulate her brain as they tried to put the pieces together. ‘So what are we all thinking? Did Lydia come to Kellston simply because her mother had grown up here or did she have a more sinister reason?’

  Higgs was the first to offer up an opinion. ‘Wasn’t there a rumour that Joe Quinn’s sons might have been innocent? That Terry Street was the one who murdered Joe, rather than his sons.’