‘That’s my first guests,’ her brother announced. ‘He’s an architect and she’s the niece of a bloke who sits in the House of Lords – that’s who I’m connected to these days. Now piss off.’
He threw the door open and gently edged Pearl out onto the steps. A man in a suit and a woman, who seemed done up to the nines as if for an awards ceremony, were getting out of a silver Merc.
Spotting him, the woman cheerfully waved. ‘Darling!’
He became an English gent again. ‘Josie! You look absolutely ravishing! Jack, good to see you!’
Pearl almost puked at her brother’s bowing and scrapping and ‘absolutely’ and ‘ravishing’ bollocks. What an all time sell out he was. However, now there were witnesses, Pearl wasn’t scared of him anymore.
She whispered, mischief dancing in her eyes, ‘I bet Jack and Milady Josie Darling think you’re connected. I bet you they say, ‘that darky’s a crook,’ when your back’s turned.’
He kept the all too bright smile plastered on his face as he shot back, ‘I couldn’t give a monkey’s uncle what anyone thinks or says. I told you, I don’t believe in anyone except myself.’
Pearl sucked her teeth softly as she turned her back on her fool-fool brother. As she walked down the steps, Josie gave her a curious look.
Her brother obviously noticed because he shouted, ‘Thanks so much Pearl! The house looks so splendid when you’ve finished dusting and cleaning. See you again next week!’
His cleaner? Fecking cheek! An indignant Pearl almost turned and smacked him one in his lying mouth. She might be on her uppers but she was still his big sister. Was still the one who had held his small hand when they’d docked in Tilbury on the ship from Jamaica when she was thirteen-years-old.
No, it was time for her to put her baby brother ‘under manners’ as the Caribbean community would say when someone needed to be taught respect.
She took a startled Josie by the arm and in her rawest Jamaican accent whispered, ‘You’ll have to cut Mister some slack this evening. I’m afraid he’s been arrested again for living off immoral earnings.’
‘Living off immoral earnings?’
Pearl pulled her closer still. ‘Yeah, you know – he’s been caught pimping again.’
She tottered away from a horror-struck, jaw slackened Josie. Let her snob knob brother get out of that one.
Only when she hit the main road did she remember what her brother had told her:
‘Either you stole it or she did.’
That stopped her in her tracks. Could he be right? Was Babs the one who had had the gold away?
17
‘Mum, I’m off,’ Courtney cheerfully shouted as she opened the front door.
‘Say hello to Bella and her folks,’ Jen called back. Her voice softened with happiness. ‘That Bella’s a really sweet girl.’
Bella was in the same class as Courtney. The reigning class pin-up who all the other girls cooed up to. Her family were loaded. Her mum had met Bella for the first time this week, after the assembly at school, and been completely bowled over.
‘You can tell she don’t come off The Devil,’ her mum had whispered with stars in her eyes.
No wonder her mum was over the moon that they were hanging out. There was only one problem – they weren’t mates. Truth was Courtney couldn’t stand the girl. As far as she was concerned Bella was always chatting, ‘me, me, me,’ and going on and on about her parents flash pad in Monte Carlo – wherever the fuck that was – and their penthouse near Harrods. But Courtney had needed a cover to go out without her mum smelling something fishy. Saying she was going off to ‘see’ Bella had done the trick.
Once downstairs Courtney flicked her hood up and legged it across the estate. Less than ten minutes later she reached the Station Car Park.
The beat of music provided a fat arrow pointing to where Dodgy and her crew were. They were tucked up in a corner chilling to Gwen Stefani’s ‘The Sweet Escape’. Dodgy sat on the low-level wall with three other girls, all nodding their heads to the rhythm as Mandela, the dog, spun round.
Dodgy was puffing away on a huge spliff when she spotted Courtney.
She bounced off the wall, the spliff clenched between her teeth like Clint Eastwood in ‘The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.’
‘Glad you could join the party Courts.’ Pulling the weed from her mouth Dodgy introduced her girl gang. ‘That’s Roach, Blinky and Strawberry.’
Courtney got it straight away why her dyed pink hair was how Strawberry got her nick. With the other two she didn’t have a clue and just hoped Roach’s didn’t have anything to do with the skin crawling variety.
Dodgy offered her a tote. ‘’Ere, get your laughing gear round some Rasta blaster.’
Courtney shook her head with solid determination. ‘Nah, you’re alright.’
Her mum would have her, good and proper, if she returned home bonged out of her box, stinking to high heaven like one of Aunt Tiff’s squats.
Dodgy’s merry mood vanished in an instant, her eyes flashing red warning signals. She bared her teeth. ‘You’re not being a stiff are ya?’
It was one of the other girls – Blinky – who inadvertently came to Courtney’s rescue, waving a half-gone bottle of voddy in the air. ‘Maybe she wants a slug of this?’
One look at the bottle had Courtney tied up in knots. Her mouth started to water. She licked her lips. She’d developed a taste for the hard stuff while her Nanna Babs was banged up. She’d managed to stay off the booze for almost a year now. But it hadn’t been easy. A long, hard slog was what it had been. Sometimes she woke up with the taste of it soaking into her tongue. Stared longingly at the booze showcased in the window of The Devil’s Offy like she was hypnotised. No wonder people called it the demon drink.
Courtney swallowed with true grit. She’d come this far and wasn’t about to flush all her hard work down the bog.
So she did what Foxy, her former counsellor, had taught her to do when faced with gut-twisting temptation – she swiftly changed the subject.
‘How come the station’s staff don’t run you off?’
The others roared with bellyaching laughter.
When Dodgy got her breath back she explained, ‘they know better than to mess with us. Anyroads, we sell discount gear to the guy on the gate. He’s happy.’ She sucked deeply, and proudly, from her joint.
Out of the blue, a flash motor appeared. It stopped a couple of metres away and flashed its lights twice. Dodgy suddenly came to attention like she was on guard duty. She flicked the spliff and walked sharpish towards the car. Courtney’s brows jacked up in surprise. She hadn’t figured Dodgy for someone who moved to the beat of anyone else’s drum.
Strawberry jumped off the wall and caught Mandela’s lead. He whined and tugged attempting to follow Dodgy.
Dodgy hunched down on the driver’s side. Courtney couldn’t see who Dodgy was speaking to. Whoever it was the girl was paying attention to the max. Must be someone much higher up the food chain for the girl to be listening without any backchat. Suddenly she recalled the words Dodgy had use to see Tasha off with that day by the canal:
‘Do you know who I’m covered by?’
Was this who Dodgy was chatting with now? The people she was covered by? Must be some scary people to have Bad Girl Dodgy at their beck and call.
Less than a minute later the motor reversed and drove away as a very cheery Dodgy re-joined the group.
‘Who was that?’ Courtney felt compelled to ask.
‘We gonna tell her?’ Strawberry added with a gleam in her eye.
Dodgy leaned her head to the side giving Courtney an appraising look. ‘Nah. Well not yet anyways.’ She pierced Courtney with an unsettling, cool stare. ‘Court’s gotta prove herself first.’
18
As jumpy as a tart in church, Babs took one last drag on her baccy as she lurked outside the impressive steel and glass office block. She’d almost lost her nerve. It wasn’t going to be easy to sweet talk Kieran Sc
ott into doing her bidding.
Their last meeting had been a real set-to. She’d told him, point blank, his antics put her in mind of her bastard, evil ex, Stan - and for her there was no greater insult. Babs had backed it up by slamming the door in his stunned face.
Hadn’t clapped eyes on him since, but she didn’t need gossip or the grapevine to keep track of him. These days he was In the papers, if you please, standing in front of flashy, new-build apartment blocks with headlines like, ‘London’s top property developer Kieran Scott...’
Kieran gone legit? Don’t make me laugh. All this property malarkey was clearly a front for whatever rackets he had his sticky mitts in. Kieran on the right side of the street? Yeah, and Al Capone became a dustman.
His offices were near Canary Wharf, so she’d hopped on the Dockland’s Light Railway and hung around near the front door until he appeared. Except that hadn’t happened. Now she had no alternative but to enter a world that felt as foreign to her as walking into a garden party at the Palace.
She gathered her courage, chucked her butt and pressed the intercom button.
‘I’m here to see Kieran…Errr, I mean Mr. Scott.’
‘I’m afraid he’s not in at present,’ a woman replied.
Babs didn’t have time for a brush off, so insisted, ‘I’ll wait for him, if it’s alright by you.’
The reception area was filled with large, showy plants, a bit like the Day of the Triffids. Babs’ face scrunched up as she checked out a big, square thing spewing water in the middle? What the fuck was that about?
She took a seat, nicely placed under a tall tropical flower away from the prying eyes of the three receptionists. He must be doing well if he needed three bodies manning the front desk.
She didn’t have to wait long. A dark motor, sporting blacked out windows, rolled up. Kieran stepped out looking every inch the successful businessman in a slim-fit charcoal suit and light lilac shirt. Maybe the rumours doing the rounds were true about him going legit because the Kieran she knew wouldn’t have been caught dead in a lilac shirt. Babs didn’t have a problem with it herself; it suited him.
As soon as he entered the building and walked passed her she was on her feet. ‘Kieran!’
The gangster turned developer did a double take when he clocked her.
‘Babs? What are you doing here?’ He looked around at his people who were ready on high-alert for him to give the word to fling her tail out on the street.
Coldly, he ground out, ‘What do you want?’ His tone would’ve had many a man wetting his underpants. Babs was made of sterner stuff.
‘I need a word.’ No way was she going to be intimidated by him, the boy she’d saved from a life of neglect and abuse on The Devil. She stood her ground.
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you. Now if you’ll excuse me.’
He set off.
Babs chased after him shouting, ‘I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t important.’
‘I’m a busy man - call my PA.’
She caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm as two security guards bore down on her.
‘Do you want me to make a scene in front of your people? And you know what kind of scene I can make. I’m sure you remember how I took your mum on when she belted you one.’
Kieran’s nostrils flared at the memory. He might be able to say this ‘n’ that about her, but her sticking up for her kids – and he’d been like a son to her – he couldn’t fault her on. He gestured to security to back off. Looked at his Armani watch.
‘You’ve got ten minutes.’
He took her up to his suite on the top floor. It was almost a replica of the offices he’d had at his one-time club in Wapping, but slicker, smarter and crowded with works of art and even more exotic plants. The view went down the river towards the City. ‘Alright Babs – what do you want?’
He took a seat in a large, leather swivel chair but didn’t invite her to sit down, which filled her with sadness. How had it gone so wrong between her and her darling boy?
That seemed a good enough place to start. ‘Well, first off, I’d like to apologise for the way we parted last time. That was uncalled for.’ His brow hitched up in surprise. ‘Don’t get me wrong, you were bang out of order, but that wasn’t the way to deal with the situation.’
Kieran eased back, staring intently at her. ‘Blimey, you really must want something if you’re coming over all sorry for comparing me to Stan.’ She inwardly flinched at that. ‘Anyway, don’t worry about it, I’ve heard worse, a lot worse. Now what do you want?’
Babs moved to stand at the edge of the wall-to-ceiling window and stared down the river. She had to tread very carefully. She didn’t want Kieran to twig that it was about the gold that he’d actually blagged in the first place, that she’d then stolen and now been nabbed by someone else.
Finally she faced him, remaining by the window. The distance between them made it easier for her to talk. ‘Me and Pearl have had something stolen from us – you remember Pearl?’
‘Vaguely.’
‘It’s quite a valuable bit of property actually. And seeing as you’re in the business, we was wondering if you could help us recover it. I mean, obviously there’d be a drink in it for you if you could lend a hand.’
It was only when she’d set her stall out that Babs realised how pathetic it sounded. She was asking him to help her recover something without actually saying what it was and in the certain knowledge that if he found out, he’d go bananas. But she and Pearl were desperate, especially if Pearl’s brother didn’t come up trumps.
Kieran leaned his arms against the padded armrests. ‘What is it that’s been half-inched? A TV? A DVD player? An old motor? You’re gonna have to fill me in on the particulars.’
Babs broke eye contact and tried to think of a way around the problem.
She was startled when he let out a small, mocking laugh. ‘It’s the gold, isn’t it?’
‘You what?’ Bollocks! She hadn’t seen that coming. No way could he have figured out what she and Pearl had done. She toughed it out.
‘How can it be the gold? I was behind bars when it all went down.’
He stood up and took his time walking over to join her by the window. Kieran gazed thoughtfully at the commanding view. ‘The Babs I know wouldn’t be scared out of her wits to chat to me about anything. The only thing that would leave you shaking in your shoes is the thing that split us up in the first place – the gold.’
Babs was surprised Kieran seemed so relaxed about the news and on the strength of that she snapped back, ‘Well, it weren’t your gold either was it? You stole it too.’
‘Yeah, that’s true enough. How did you do it?’
‘Never you mind. Will you lend a helping hand or not?’
He finally gave her his full attention. ‘So, Babs from the block is dealing in stolen bullion is she? Who else is involved in this little caper asides from Pearl?’
Babs let out a resigned huff. ‘Just us two. As far as I’m concerned that gold can rot in hell, but Pearl don’t see it that way.’ Her heart started racing. ‘If my girls find out I’m done for. We’ve finally managed to become a proper family again and I can’t have nuthin mucking that up.’
His face had the decency to sting with shaming heat, no doubt remembering his pivotal role in almost breaking up her family.
She carried on, almost pleading with him. ‘Look luv, if you could find out who took it and get it back, perhaps we could come to some arrangement?’
Kieran shook his head slowly. ‘No can do and I’ll tell you straight out why. I’ve moved on. I don’t give a tinkers cuss about the gold. I’m making far more money flogging flats in London to Russians and Arabs than I could ever expect to make out of the bent metal racket. While some people might think the prices I charge for properties are criminal, it’s still all totally legit.’
He moved away and resumed his seat as if to emphasis his new status.
‘Plus, I’m not in the ‘business�
�, no more. I’m as straight as the barrel of a gun now. My company deals in the stock market not in the basement of a shop in Petticoat Lane. I don’t go to the old haunts and I don’t meet the old crowd. I pay my taxes, fill in all the government forms, insure my motors. It’s all one hundred per cent kosher. I don’t care about the gold or what’s happened to it. Got it?’
Babs looked in his eyes. He was obviously and completely sincere. She’d pinned all her hopes on him and now she’d been blown out. ‘I see. In that case, can you recommend anyone else who might be able to help?’
Kieran’s face tightened. ‘You’re not listening, are ya? I’m out, I’m done with all that.’
Stunned, Babs turned in a daze towards the door. She couldn’t take it in. It really was curtains between her and Kieran. What was she going to do about the gold? She didn’t have anyone else to turn to. The only other person who might’ve done the trick was Dee with her links to John’s underworld contacts. But Dee was the last person she could turn to. If her daughter ever sussed she was the one that filched John’s gold, regardless of John and Kieran being in cahoots blagging it in the first place…No, Dee was not an option.
As she reached for the handle Kieran asked, ‘By the way – how’s Dee doing?’
As well as going legit was he a mind reader now too? ‘She’s alright. Doing good after what happened to John.’
Babs was already thinking about what she was going to tell Pearl. With no help from Kieran their treasure was gone with no hope of getting it back. That was unless Pearl’s brother came through for them.
There was a tiny hesitation before he asked, ‘How’s that kid of hers? Had a son didn’t she?’
Babs wasn’t in the mood to play happy families after the knock back he’d given her, so she absently answered, ‘Yeah. A boy. A real beaut. Called Nathan, but we all call him Natty.’
Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists Page 11