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Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists

Page 7

by Dreda Say Mitchell


  ‘I say Pearl should be expelled,’ Daisy barked completely pissed off with Pearl’s claptrap.

  ‘What, from the meeting?’ asked a bewildered Fred, scratching his balding head.

  Daisy’s amble bosoms shook. ‘Nah, I mean from the Home. She’s put us all in the shit and don’t deserve to live among the rest of us. She should find somewhere else to live. And take her bogus spirits with her.’

  Pearl snapped out of her act and got to her feet. ‘You what?’

  With smarmy satisfaction Daisy gave it to her straight. ‘You heard. You shouldn’t be living with decent people.’

  ‘Decent people?’ Pearl gave it back to her in spades. ‘I ain’t taking that from a dodgy boiler who’s only in a wheelchair because her legs can’t take the strain.’

  Daisy manoeuvred her wheelchair towards Pearl with speed. ‘You take that back Pearl Hennessy.’

  Pearl slammed her fists on her hips, her bracelets shaking violently, looking down at the other woman who appeared to be on the verge of running her over. ‘And if I don’t?’

  ‘You’ll find out why these,’ Daisy shook her fists, ‘were nicknamed Mohammed Ali and Joe Frazier back in the day in Poplar.’

  ‘Should I come back later?’ a voice interrupted from the doorway.

  The room focused its attention on a tall man, with greying, short hair and a smart, black suit. In his fifties, with a handsome face, he had an air about him that captured the eye.

  ‘Patrick,’ Vi greeted, clapping her hands in utter pleasure. ‘Thanks so much for coming.’

  The newcomer returned her smile and kissed her warm cheeks. She held his hand between her palms for a while as if he were a long, lost treasure returned to her. ‘Remember I said that there might be someone who can help us – well, this is Patrick.’ She beamed at him. ‘He’s like a son to me. I only wish that you could’ve met him during happier times.’

  As Daisy wheeled herself back to her place she asked, ‘So, how can he help?’

  The guy stayed on his feet as he addressed the gathering. ‘I can’t promise that I’ll be able to do that, but from what Vi has told me, you’ve been scammed by a classic pyramid scheme—‘

  ‘What’s that then?’ Fred squinted as his bushy brows drew together.

  Vi’s friend took his time as he patiently explained. ‘A few people are asked to invest and at first their money starts doing well. This builds confidence, so other people then join and that’s when things go down hill. This man who conned you made sure he got as much as he could from you all and then disappeared with your money.’

  Fred frown deepened, his gold tooth flashing as he snarled, ‘Back in my day they had another name for it - daylight robbery.’

  ‘So what can you—?‘ Before Pearl could finish the receptionist politely tapped on the open door.

  ‘Pearl, you’ve got a visitor.’

  ‘Me?’ Pearl was puzzled. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Then her heart lifted with hope. Maybe it was one of her children finally come to forgive her. If it was…Pearl excitedly patted her headscarf like a teenager going on her first date.

  When she got to her feet she looked over at Fred. ‘If I’m not back fill me in on what’s-what later on.’

  As Pearl walked away with a spring in her step Daisy jeered, ‘Probably getting a visit from those whack-a-do spirits who see fuck all.’

  ‘Will you give it a rest?’ This was from Mrs Kowalski who rarely uttered a word.

  Pearl didn’t hear a word of it, too excited at the prospect at seeing one of her kids. It had been over twenty years. That’s a long time to be without the flesh and blood you gave birth to. But when she reached the reception, Pearl was in for a crushing disappointment. It wasn’t one of her kids.

  ‘What you doing here?’

  ‘We agreed I’d come over today. I wanna word about the gold,’ a grim-faced Babs Miller replied.

  10

  Babs had never seen a black person turn green before. Truth be told, she didn’t think it was possible, but that’s exactly what happened to Pearl’s face. It came all over a green. A very nasty green indeed.

  ‘The…gold?’ Pearl stammered, obviously having forgotten about their meeting.

  Babs leaned in close, her words only for the other woman’s ears. ‘Yeah, you know the yellow stuff kipping in your settee.’

  Up close Pearl looked like she was about to chunder. There was a line of sweat just under her headscarf and her usually smooth, brown skin looked tired. Blimey, she hoped the old girl wasn’t about to collapse on her.

  ‘Pearl, you alright?’

  ‘Alright?...Yeah, yes, of course I am.’

  Babs begged to differ. Pearl was blinking like she’d just discovered her eyelashes and her lips were quivering.

  Whatever was going on Babs took the matter in hand as she took Pearl gently by the arm. ‘Let’s get you sat down and a cup of hot Rosie Lee inside ya.’

  She gently guided Pearl down the corridor as she continued, ‘Once we’re in your room you can tell me what’s up. And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong coz you look like you’ve just seen the grim reaper.’

  ‘My…room?’

  Her former next-door cellie sounded so alarmed Babs increased their pace.

  ‘Yeah, you know the place where you put your head down every night.’

  Babs could feel her friend trembling. Poor Pearl! Best get her sat down before her legs gave way. But when they reached her friend’s room, to Babs’ astonishment, Pearl shifted herself with the speed of lightening and plonked herself squarely in front of the door.

  ‘We can’t go in there,’ she protested, folding her arms.

  ‘Why not?’ Babs didn’t get it. One minute Pearl looks like she’s ready to take her last breath and now she’s coming on like a bouncer.

  ‘Fleas,’ Pearl punched out, not budging an inch.

  Babs’ brows snapped together. ‘What are you rabbiting on about?’ Then it dawned on her. ‘You having a senior moment? Maybe I should go get one of the carers.’

  Pearl straightened her back. Babs squinted at her knowingly. While they were doing bird Babs had felt sorry for the old lag next door because she’d been a shuffling, stooped wreck who royally got on the other girls’ nerves. Babs hadn’t had the heart to turn her away when her little face popped round her cell doorway silently begging for someone to natter with. Babs knew first hand how lonely and scary prison could be. Only on the out did Babs cotton on to the fact that the hunched, poor ol’ dear act was exactly that – an act. Pearl had more toughness in her spine than British Steel.

  Babs pursed her lips. ‘What’s going on here Pearl?’

  The older woman’s eyes danced the same way when she was telling anyone with an ear about her Madam Pearl routine.

  ‘I’m lying in bed last night trying to catch some sleep and all of a sudden I start scratching my arms, then my legs. I tell you Babsie girl before I know it I’m scratching everywhere.’ Her little hands fluttered in the air. ‘This morning I got the caretaker to come look and he tells me,’ she leaned in close but didn’t move from the door, ‘it’s fleas.’ Her gaze moved dramatically up and down the corridor. ‘Told me to keep it under my headscarf so the others don’t find out. He fumigated my room this morning, so I can’t go in there until tomorrow.’

  Babs’ lips tightened. She’d heard all kinds of likely stories in her time and this ranked right up there.

  ‘Fleas? That’s a right Jackanory if you ask me. What’s going on?’

  ‘Cross my heart, hope to die.’ Pearl accompanied her words with the action.

  To Babs’ surprise she stepped out of the way.

  ‘I ain’t stopping you from going in there, but it’s fleas Babs. Those critters are like spirits, jump on you in the blink of an eye. Then they’ll be breeding and hopping with glee in your home. And if your girls come around – which I know they do regular like – they’ll be on them too. Next thing you hear your kid’s homes have been infested.’ She gasped as
she covered her mouth in shock. ‘What about your grandbaby? They’ll have at him too.’ Pearl stepped further into the corridor and waved her hand at the door. ‘Like I said Babsie girl, I ain’t stopping you from going into Flea City.’

  Babs reached again for the handle. Hesitated. Fleas in her home. Yuk! Bloody hell she felt like scratching all over. And what if Natty ended up with them? And then flippin’ nits? Dee might never let her look after him again…

  Suddenly, Babs’ expression soured. Stan had taught her all about the ‘go ahead and have a look’ trick. She’d fly into a rage, challenging him about his story about where he’d been and he’d counter with, all calm and innocent, that she could check his pockets if she didn’t believe him. Of course she never did because why would a guilty person put himself on the line if he had anything to hide? Right? Wrong. Now one of her besties thought she could pull the same stunt.

  Babs opened the door with determination.

  ‘Babsie…I…I never…‘ Pearl spluttered behind her.

  ‘What the heck went on here?’ Babs’ eyes grew round with incredulity as she stared horrified at Pearl’s room.

  Burn marks on the far wall. The window boarded up. The iron bars, which she’d been pleased that Pearl had installed as a security measure for the gold…

  Bloody hell, the gold…

  Babs’ breath froze as her gaze skidded to the settee. Looked like Edward Scissorhands had done a proper number on it.

  An incredible rage swelled inside her. ‘Where. Is. The. Gold?’

  All Pearl’s playacting vanished as she squared her shoulders and confessed, ‘It’s gone.’

  ‘Wha’cha mean, it’s gone? It don’t have legs to just up and waltz outta here.’

  The older woman’s jaw moved, but no words came out. Then she tried again. ‘I was out with the others and when I came back the cops were—‘

  ‘The Bill?’ Could this get any bloody worse? Babs’ head started ringing. This was a nightmare, pure and simple.

  ‘Don’t worry, I fobbed them off with a story that did the trick,’ Pearl tried to reassure her. ‘Let’s go to the dayroom and I’ll tell you how it was.’

  In a daze of disbelief Babs followed her to the dayroom. A meeting was going on at one end of the room, with a man, who had his back to her, addressing the audience. Two women were sitting in armchairs, but as soon as they clocked Pearl they stabbed her with nasty looks, got up and stomped off.

  When they were sat at a table Babs asked, ‘what was all that about? Those two looked at you like you had the plague.’

  Pearl let out a weary sigh. ‘I tried to do a goodness and it turned bad.’ Babs hitched her brow in a question so the other woman carried on. ‘I invested much of my savings with this guy I thought was legit and got him to come here to tell the others—‘

  ‘Who invested their hard earned cash and then he did a bunk,’ Babs finished off for her.

  Pearl shook her head sadly. ‘You’d think someone like me, who’s been around the block a few times, would’ve known better.’ She looked down the room at the meeting. ‘Now they all blame me. That’s why I never told you about the gold coz I thought you’d blame me for that too.’

  Babs let out a lengthy sigh. ‘What happened?’

  Pearl quickly gave her the low-down and ended on, ‘I know what you’re going to asked – who knew it was there? Well I never told a soul.’

  Babs looked affronted as her head snapped back. ‘You saying I did?’

  Pearl looked incredulous, Babs’ words cutting her to the quick. ‘’Course not. We need to find our gold.’

  Babs chewed fretfully on her bottom lip and hesitantly offered, ‘Now it’s gone maybe we let it be gone. It’s only bought a storm of trouble to my family. It’s like it’s cursed.’

  ‘Cursed?’ Pearl uttered with derision. ‘I don’t know about that but It’s my gift for a very nice retirement, thank you very much, especially with most of my life savings being robbed.’ Her voice turned silky smooth. ‘I need the cash it’s going to bring me.’

  Babs leaned threateningly forward. ‘You trying to put the frighteners on me? Coz let me tell you bigger fish than you have tried and have lost.’

  Pearl seemed to collapse back in her chair. ‘I’d never do that Babsie. I ain’t lived an easy life and some would say I’ve brought that down on my own head. I just wanna be able to put my feet up and not have to worry where my next penny’s coming from.’

  Babs instantly felt sorry for her outburst. Truth be told, she’d probably think the same thing in Pearl’s shoes. Babs was financially sorted having sold her two houses, her girls none the wiser. Those houses had caused enough problems to make the Godfather 4. She’d put most of the money from the sale aside for her grandkids and the rest a nice, little nest egg for her old age. Pearl was low on funds through no fault of her own. Babs didn’t have the heart to leave her stranded.

  She let her mind tick over before proposing, ‘we need to find our gold. And nab the bastard who pinched it. What we need is someone who has their nose to the ground who can put the word out and have a sniff around.’ She reluctantly added, ‘I know someone who might fit the bill.’

  Pearl’s brightened up. ‘I’ve got someone too.’ Her voice quietened. ‘My brother could help. Who’s the someone you know?’

  Babs was already regretting putting this person in the mix. ‘I’d rather keep mum about who that is for now.’

  She reached across the table and took her ex-jailbird friend’s hand. ‘We’ll get this sorted out. Never you mind that some here are giving you the bum’s rush, I’ll always be your friend.’

  Pearl placed her hand on top of Babs’. ‘Friends forever.’

  11

  ‘Oops! Sorry mate.’

  Babs apologised after she slammed into a man’s chest. A very muscular chest. The gold, understandably, had bent her all out of shape, so much so that as she approached the care home exit she hadn’t been looking where she was going.

  A strong hand steadied her. ‘Babs?’

  All thought of the gold fled as her head shot up. Her heart did a double somersault. Then another. Blimey, she could barely catch her breath.

  No way…

  Can’t be…

  But it was.

  In the flesh.

  Tricky Dickie, aka retired cop Patrick Johnson, a former high-ranking guy at the Yard. And God help the dodgy East End girl in her, the love of her life.

  They’d met back in the 70s when he’d been hunting a pair of cops who were as bent as Uri Geller’s cutlery and who also turned out to be bosom buddies of that prick Stan. She and Tricky Dickie – that’s how she’d always think of him – had got into it big time. Sex in his car. Sex in a hotel. Sex that had melted her bones on the inside. For the first time she’d understood what it meant to make love to a real man. Even if he was a cop.

  Although they hadn’t touched each other since then her feelings for him had grown and deepened over the years. Tricky Dickie was her angel in the shadows who’d appeared like magic many-a-time when there was major league bother in her life. But a bird from the East End doing the horizontal Tango with a cop went against the laws of nature. She’d heeded it for nearly thirty years and it had broken her aching, lovesick heart.

  ‘Babs? What are you doing here?’

  Patrick’s short, cropped grey hair had lost the Poldark look she been so into in the 70s. He still held himself like he had steel instead of a backbone for a spine. And, wow, those gorgeous eyes. Grey and kind with lines that crinkled at the corner. Fancy waking up and gazing into those beauties on the pillow next to you every morning?

  Nelly’s song, ‘Hot In Here’, began beating in her head as her cheeks flamed. And man did she feel like ripping her clothes off. But that was never going to happen, was it? She felt bitter to the core. Why was it some people got lucky while others were dumped like rubbish on the ‘dreams not meant to be’ scrapheap?

  Babs forced out a bright and breezy voice, like she’d
been having the time of her life without him. ‘Been visiting a good mate of mine. Known each other for yonks.’

  His thick brows snapped together. ‘Oh, who’s that then?’

  Her eyelashes fluttered as she ignored his question and threw one of her own. ‘So, what you doing here? Booking yourself a room?’

  He smiled at her cheeky remark making the dimple she’d been head over heels for appear. ‘There’s been some nasty business going on here – I’m not at liberty to say…’

  Nasty business! Bloody hells bells! What if he was here to follow up on the earlier visit by the Bill about what had gone down in Pearl’s room? The bloke had the snout of a bloodhound. If there was anyone who could sniff out there was more than meets the eye about Pearl’s slashed settee it was Tricky Dickie.

  And look at her, chatting for England with him for Pete’s sake!

  Babs made a big play of coughing and checked her watch. ‘Must dash,’ she said with enough drama to put Meryl Streep in the shade. ‘I’m running late —‘

  A startled hiccup escaped her when his warm palm settled on her shoulder. He stared intently at her. Cor, those eyes of his were casting a spell over her. Look away! Look away! But Babs couldn’t. He was the only fella who’d done right by her. But it couldn’t be. Her girls would never accept a former Rozzer in her life. Once a cop always a cop. And, fuck me, if he ever clocked about the gold…

  Hot tears gathered in her throat.

  Babs half-turned away from him in despair. ‘Patrick, look—‘

  ‘Say that again,’ he said softly with utter wonder.

  ‘What?’ She still wouldn’t look at him.

  He placed his other hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. She had no alternative but to meet his glowing gaze.

  ‘My name. You always call me Tricky Dickie.’

 

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