by Jamie Raven
‘So what are you saying – that I should stop chasing the story and keep quiet?’
‘That’s part of it,’ she said. ‘But you need to reveal the truth about Ethan as well. He can’t be allowed to get away with it just because he’s Rosie’s father. He’s as bad as the rest of them and you have no idea if he’ll do something despicable to stop you talking.’
‘He wouldn’t hurt me, Mum.’
‘You can’t be sure of that, Beth, and you know it.’
My mother’s words really hit home. Their impact was almost physical. I tried to take a breath, but it was as if the air in the room had vanished.
She had made me realise that I hadn’t fully considered the likely consequences of taking on Shapiro and his notorious firm. The collateral damage could be considerable, especially now that I knew Ethan was working with the enemy. I’d been so obsessed with pursuing the story that I hadn’t given enough thought to my own daughter. That was unforgivable and I felt ashamed of myself.
The guilt expanded in my chest when Rosie got up and I held her in my arms.
‘I get it, Mum,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I’ve been selfish. This little pumpkin should come first.’
I thought about it on the train to London Bridge, and by the time I got to the office I had it all worked out. I knew exactly what I was going to say to Grant Scott and then to the police. I’d reveal what Peter Kline had told me but I wouldn’t say I’d posed as a police officer. And I’d own up to making the anonymous call.
The trouble was I didn’t get to say any of it because Grant spoke first when I entered the newsroom, and what he told me changed everything in an instant.
‘I’ve been trying to contact you, Beth,’ he said, his voice shrill with excitement. ‘Why haven’t you been answering your phone?’
I took my mobile from my bag, saw there were two missed calls.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I’ve been in another world this morning. Didn’t hear it ring. Why? Is there a problem?’
He held up a sheet of paper. ‘We just received this from Callum Shapiro’s lawyer. He asked us to pass it to you when you turned up. Apparently he rang your home number but your mother said you’d left for work.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a prison visiting order. The old gangster wants you to go and see him.’
42
Beth Chambers
To say that I was stunned would be a huge understatement. I was absolutely thunderstruck.
Callum Shapiro had languished in prison for almost six years. And now all of a sudden he wanted me to drop by for a chat. Jesus.
‘His lawyer says it’ll be a personal visit and the Ministry of Justice is insisting you won’t be there as a journalist,’ Grant said. ‘You’ll have to sign a document agreeing not to make public any aspects of the conversation, which is a damn shame as far as I’m concerned.’
I was confused, intrigued, gobsmacked. What the hell was Shapiro going to say when I sat across a table from him in the visitors’ hall at Belmarsh?
‘Have you got any idea what it’s about?’ Grant said.
I shook my head. ‘Not a clue. I’ve never been in contact with the man.’
‘But you’ve written a lot about him and his son.’
‘Of course. And I could understand it if he wanted to arrange for me to do an interview. But a personal visit! I don’t get it.’
He handed me the visiting order. I scanned it quickly and said, ‘This is for this morning. Ten o’clock.’
‘So I noticed. He’s obviously very anxious to meet you.’
‘Has this been planned? I mean, it can take ages for these things to be set up.’
‘I asked the lawyer about that. He said Shapiro’s request was a spur-of-the-moment thing and has been fast-tracked. Apparently the old geezer still has a few influential friends on the outside and strings were pulled.’
‘This is weird. I’m not even sure I should go.’
‘Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t pass up the chance to speak to him. Whatever he wants to tell you it’s bound to be worth hearing in your capacity as a crime reporter, even if you have to keep it to yourself.’
I came close to telling him then about the attack on me and about the threats from Shapiro’s son. But I didn’t. It would take too long, and be a distraction.
‘So you don’t mind if I go?’ I said.
‘Don’t be daft. I’ve already arranged for a taxi to take you. It’s downstairs waiting.’
Some of Britain’s most dangerous criminals are held in Belmarsh prison, a bleak and oppressive place in Woolwich, south-east London.
A ball of heat was building up in my chest as I sat in the back of the taxi taking me there. I still found it hard to believe that this was actually happening. I was going to meet the notorious underworld legend Callum Shapiro, the man who, according to my mother, had arranged for someone to murder my own stepfather.
I had mixed feelings about meeting him. On the one hand I was giddy with excitement and my curiosity desperately needed sating.
On the other hand, I knew it was going to be an emotional experience. And I was probably going to find it hard to rein in my anger.
Already a thousand questions were buzzing around in my head like bees in a jar. But would he answer them? Would I even be allowed to ask them?
I just couldn’t fathom why I’d been effectively summoned to the prison. I could only surmise that he wanted to get something off his chest – and that it related in some way to the events of the past few days.
43
Beth Chambers
I joined a bunch of other visitors going through the security checks at the prison. The X-ray machine, the metal detectors, the pat-down.
My bag was put into a locker and I was taken to one side and asked to sign a document agreeing not to write about my conversation with Callum Shapiro. This was no great surprise since it was hellishly difficult for journalists to arrange face-to-face interviews with inmates, especially Category A ones like Shapiro.
Eventually I was allowed through to the visitors’ hall and directed towards a table with two chairs facing each other. A minute later the prisoners started to trundle in and I felt my stomach tying itself in knots.
I suddenly thought about my mother and wondered if I should have called to tell her that I was coming here. Would Shapiro’s lawyer have identified himself and explained why he was trying to reach me? Probably not, since I hadn’t received a call from her. And if I had told her perhaps she would have tried to talk me out of coming.
I looked around at the other visitors. Most of them were women who were here to see their husbands, sons and boyfriends. I doubted that any of them were as nervous as I was. They knew why they were here and what to expect. I didn’t.
I recognised Callum Shapiro the moment he entered the room. He recognised me too. His face slid into a half-smile as he walked towards me.
My first impression was that he looked old and withered, a shadow of the man I’d watched for weeks in the dock at the Old Bailey. He was no longer tall and stocky. Now he was thin, emaciated almost, and he walked with a stoop.
When he reached me he stood for a moment looking down, his colourless eyes seemingly searching my face for something. I stared back, conscious of the lump in my throat.
His shirt was open at the neck and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing dark tattoos scrawled on his arms. His white hair was long and pushed back behind his ears.
‘Hello, Miss Chambers,’ he said, his voice as scratchy as a seventy-eight flat disc record. ‘I’d like to thank you for coming.’
My body went rigid as a board and I felt a chill run up my spine.
‘So what’s this about?’ I said, trying not to sound at all friendly.
He pulled out the chair, sat down, seemed perfectly relaxed. Unlike me.
He leaned forward on the table, made a tent with his fingers. His heavily wrinkled face was so pale it was almost transparent.
�
�I must say you’re a very attractive young lady, Miss Chambers. Or may I call you Bethany?’
His mouth split into an easy smile, showing tobacco-stained teeth.
I sat there in a state of pure, simple shock, wondering what the hell this was all about.
‘I don’t care what you call me,’ I said. ‘So long as you get to the point quickly and tell me why I’m here.’
‘All in good time,’ he said. ‘First I want you to know that I really do appreciate you coming at such short notice. I had to pull in some favours to make it happen so quickly.’
‘I guessed that. But why the sudden urge to meet me? You must know from your son that I’m not one of your biggest fans.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to be. I’m not the sort of person people look up to and idolise. At least not these days I’m not.’
‘You can say that again.’
His smile widened as he studied me from beneath his big, bushy eyebrows.
I wasn’t sure what to make of him. He certainly wasn’t what I had expected. I’d imagined a large, threatening figure with dark, impenetrable eyes and a hard face: in other words a cold-blooded monster.
Instead it was like sitting with a weak old man in a care home. Was he really the same ruthless villain who had terrorised south London for so many years? The same man believed responsible for so many murders? It hardly seemed possible.
He sat back in his chair, looked around as though to make sure that nobody was listening. The table to our left was empty. The one to our right was occupied by a young Asian man and a woman who was probably his mother.
‘I suggest you get on with it, Mr Shapiro,’ I said. ‘I want you to tell me why you invited me here.’
He leaned forward again and his face slipped into a grimace.
‘I asked you here, Bethany, because there are things I need to say to you before it’s too late.’
‘What things?’
‘Well, first off you have to promise me that you won’t repeat any of what I’m about to tell you.’
I shook my head. ‘No promises.’
‘Then I’ll just deny I said it.’
‘That’s up to you.’
He shrugged, and then to my surprise carried on, seemingly undeterred. He spoke slowly, measuring his words.
‘I’ll start with my son, Danny,’ he said. ‘I want you to know that despite what you think he did not murder his ex-wife. Believe me, I would know if he had.’
‘Then you must also know that he gave a false alibi. And that your ex-lover Tamara Roth is covering for him.’
Shapiro nodded. ‘Of course I know that. But he had no choice. You see, he did drop in on Megan on Friday evening, because he wanted to talk to her about her threats to blackmail him. He didn’t harm her, though, and when he left to go home she was very much alive. But the next morning when he heard what had happened he panicked because he had no alibi and he knew he’d be stitched up by the police if they didn’t find the real killer. So he got Tamara to help him.’
I shook my head again. ‘I find that very hard to believe. And even if it were true I can’t think why you would tell me.’
‘I’m telling you because you seem to be on a mission to get my son convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.’
I had to laugh. ‘Is that why you got me here – to plead your son’s case for him?’
‘It’s partly the reason.’
‘Well, you’ve wasted your time and mine. And for your information, I’ll be informing the police of what you’ve told me.’
‘I think you might change your mind after you hear the rest of what I’ve got to say.’
‘Is that because you’re going to threaten me?’ I said. ‘Because in case you haven’t heard I’ve already been threatened by your son, and he even sent two men to beat me up.’
‘Ah, but they didn’t go through with it, did they?’ he said.
I felt a rush of blood to my head. ‘You know about that?’
He nodded. ‘I phoned Danny last night. He told me that he’d arranged for you to be roughed up to make sure you couldn’t pursue the story. It was a stupid move and I told him to call the lads off. I gather the message got through just in time.’
I was too shocked to react. So that was why the two men had run off!
I felt the weight of my jaw on my chest, and I had to swallow to clear the lump in my throat.
‘You probably think I’m insane to be telling you this stuff,’ he said. ‘But there is a method to my madness. You see I reckon this situation is now dangerously out of control, and unless you and Danny declare a truce I fear you’ll destroy each other. I can’t let that happen for both your sakes.’
‘This surely has to be a joke,’ I said. ‘I mean, why would you care what happens to me? And you can forget about a truce between me and your maniac son. I’m a journalist, not a rival gangster.’
For several seconds his eyes drilled into mine, unblinking. Then he cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to pass on a secret to you that I’d always intended to take to my grave. But in the circumstances I think you need to know because I believe it will make a difference to how you and Danny feel about each other. And I hope you’ll then decide to use your journalistic skills to help him rather than hurt him.’
Unbelievable. As far as I was concerned the conversation had now gone from the slightly bizarre to the totally ridiculous.
‘I think that being in prison has turned you into a raving lunatic, Mr Shapiro. Why would I even contemplate helping your son after what he’s done to me?’
Shapiro blew out his cheeks and brought his eyebrows together. ‘For the simple reason that he’s your half-brother, Bethany. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see him end up in here for the next twenty-odd years.’
I gulped a breath and felt my eyeballs pop out on stalks.
‘That’s right, my love,’ Shapiro said, leaning halfway across the table towards me. ‘It means I’m your daddy. Your real daddy. And I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again after all this time.’
44
Danny Shapiro
Danny was the first to arrive at the house in Bermondsey. Frankie and Ethan Cain had let him know by text that they were on their way.
He was curious to know why the copper had asked for the meet. Cain hadn’t wanted to say over the phone, and Danny was hoping that it wasn’t more bad news. He was still feeling traumatised by what his father had told him last night. He had a half-sister, for Christ’s sake. None other than Bethany fucking Chambers. Christ.
He’d spent a sleepless night trying to get his head around it and he still couldn’t. All these years and he didn’t know. All these years Callum had kept it from him.
He had known about the old man’s affairs, of course. And he’d heard rumours that he had fathered an illegitimate child. But Callum had always denied them, and there was never any evidence to the contrary.
The affair with Peggy Chambers had apparently lasted almost six years and began when Danny was just three. It ended when Bethany was five because Danny’s mother found out and Callum was forced to choose.
Danny tried to cast his mind back to that period. Had his father said or done anything to suggest that he had a secret love child and that she lived just down the road in Peckham?
It was too long ago to remember. And it wasn’t as if he saw much of his dad in those days. He was always off doing business somewhere and trying to stay one step ahead of the law.
‘In the end I couldn’t leave your mother,’ Callum had said. ‘So we ended the relationship and I walked away. Peggy and I agreed to go our separate ways and I’d have no contact with Bethany. I did help financially until she remarried. It was the least I could do.’
Danny knew that the secret would probably never have come out if his half-sister had been anyone other than Bethany Chambers.
‘I’m telling you because I can’t let you hurt her, Danny,’ Callum had said. ‘I would never forgive myself.’
A
nd then the old man had dropped another bomb. He was going to confess all to Chambers as well in the hope he could persuade her to turn a blind eye to what she’d found out. Danny had lost his temper then, yelling down the phone that it would be a huge mistake. But Callum had insisted that he was going to do it and would be inviting her to the prison today.
‘Nothing good can come of it,’ Danny had told him.
‘I think you’re wrong, son. I think if you both know the truth it’ll stop this thing ending badly.’
‘It’s under control, Dad. I’ve told you. She doesn’t have the evidence to bring me down.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t have it yet, son. But that doesn’t mean she won’t get it.’
Danny had continued to put up a fierce argument, but his father had made up his mind and there was no budging him. It got to the point where Danny was about to hang up out of sheer bloody frustration.
That was when his father said, ‘There’s something else you need to know, Danny boy. It’ll help explain why I’m determined to do this.’
He then made his son privy to yet another secret. A secret that was just as momentous, and just as difficult to come to terms with.
It was thanks to Danny’s father that Beth Chambers wasn’t in the hospital. After their conversation on the phone last night, Danny had called Frankie Bishop, who in turn had phoned the two lads tasked with giving her a hiding. Bishop had phoned back later to say that he had got to them just in time.
‘She was slapped around a bit, but no serious harm was done to her,’ Bishop had said.
Danny hadn’t told Bishop why he’d had a change of heart, but it was the first thing Bishop asked when he arrived at the house.
‘It’s been bugging me all night, boss. I thought you wanted the bitch out of the picture for a while.’
Danny had thought long and hard about how much of what his father had told him he should share. It was a difficult one because he didn’t want people to know and yet it was bound to get out eventually once Chambers herself knew.
He’d decided to tell Bishop about Chambers being his half-sister. For the time being he was going to keep his father’s other secret to himself.