Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  Her daughter’s face drained of blood until her brown skin had the appearance of parched earth. ‘I know,’ Dee uttered softly. She closed her eyes and then stood up. ‘I’ve got to go home now. I’ll come back tomorrow Babs.‘

  ‘Go home? But you only just got here,’ Babs protested as she scrambled to her feet. ‘Come back upstairs with me, I could do with your strength by my side.’

  Dee said nothing as she picked up her bag and walked off without saying goodbye. Babs felt her throat go dry and even swilling cold tea couldn’t stop it. Only then did she clock she hadn’t asked Dee whether she’d found those two characters who Courtney had said carried out the shooting.

  Then an awful thought pushed her unsteadily back into her seat.

  Did Dee know that she’d had the gold?

  It was too terrible to contemplate. What if Pearl had got to her and blabbed the truth? Turning her own daughter against her? But Babs wouldn’t allow herself to believe it. Even Pearl couldn’t be such a total bitch. Could she?

  Babs was on her mobile phone quicker than you can say ‘bullion robbery.’

  ‘Pearl? It’s me—‘

  ‘Got my yellow for me yet?’

  Babs chewed into the phone, ‘Never mind that. You been grassing me up to my kid?’

  ‘You what? I don’t even know your daughters. Well, not really.’

  Babs let out a calm breath. ‘I got your text earlier and agreed where we should meet. I wanna get this sorted too. It’s all getting out of hand.’

  Silence greeted her request. Then, ‘I think that’s a good idea. The time and place good your end?’

  ‘And we come on our own, no back up or silly games?’

  ‘Works for me.’

  Only after Babs finished the call did it occur to her that Dee had been calling her Babs, not mum. They’d got over that hurdle when John had passed over. So why was her Dee not calling her mum anymore?

  37

  Ghosts. That’s what confronted Babs as she stood outside the Bad Moon boozer in Shadwell. The ghost of Neville, Dee’s dad, back in ’72 as she manically searched for him here to tell him that fatherhood had come a-calling. The ghost of Stan Miller as he made dodgy deals with Faces and bent coppers, at a table in the back, away from prying eyes. The ghosts of proud, hardworking dockers whose livelihoods went down the crapper when the docks closed. The ol’ place hadn’t changed much from the outside. Still looked like a joint in a Victorian costume drama.

  Babs peered through the grubby windows. No punters seemed to be in there. Mind you, it was never heaving even back in the day. More a meeting place for under the table business rather than on the table pints. But more importantly no Pearl.

  Babs had timed it to arrive a good fifteen minutes before the agreed time for two reasons. First off, she wanted to check if Pearl had come armed and with back up. And second, Babs needed space to get her head straight, all her ducks in a line.

  She walked in and up to the bar. ‘You’re quiet today.’

  The barman was an old boy with very seasoned eyes who braced his hands far apart on the bar and his body forward as if he was a guard dog.

  ‘What can I get ya?’ A man of few words. Good! If anything untoward went down he’d keep his mouth zipped.

  ‘I’ll have half of something, Not fussed what.’

  While he poured, Babs looked around the bar. There were a group of posh youngsters at a table trying to talk and act street, but no one else. There were two bars in the Bad Moon, the former Ladies Bar, which still had the word ‘Ladies’ written on a stained glass window and the really rough public bar.

  The former Ladies Bar was empty. The perfect place to sit and hammer out a solution with Pearl. Light and Pale drink in hand, she took a seat in the snug, a part of the ‘Ladies’ which was neatly tucked away for those wanting to keep themselves to themselves, but more importantly, gave a view of the comings and goings at the door.

  Babs knocked back a good portion of her drink and wiped her tongue across her lips. She was a tad nervous and not ashamed to admit it. Worse case scenario was that Pearl was a no-show. If that happened Babs was going to stomp down to that care home and have it out with her former mate. Whatever went on she was going to get it through Pearl’s nut that she didn’t have the gold.

  Babs checked her watch and swore. Pearl was ten minutes late. If another ten minutes came and went that could only mean one thing – Pearl Hennessy wasn’t putting in an appearance.

  Restless, Babs drained her glass and got up and peered through the window like an urchin casing some tasty buns to pinch. That’s when she spotted her. Pearl ambling along in a coat that appeared a couple of sizes too big and her customary headscarf. No Jamaican flag print this time though, it was black. Not a good sign.

  Once Pearl entered they stood there staring at each other with the awkwardness of strangers meeting for the first time.

  Pearl broke the silence. ‘Hello Babsie.’ Her eyes squinted. ‘Checking the street to see if I’d brought my posse along for the ride?’

  ‘And have ya?’

  Pearl shook her head. ‘I want to get this sorted as much as you do. We need to wash this bad blood away. Have—?’

  ‘No, I haven’t bought anyone to hold my hand. Now we’ve got the niceties out of the way shall we get down to business?’

  Babs ordered the same drink again and Pearl a rum and black.

  They sat for a few minutes in a choking silence before Babs lamented, shaking her head, ‘How did things ever get this far? How did we ever let this get out of hand?’

  Pearl’s face softened. ‘Dunno Babsie. We should have sat down from the off, even if you had the stuff…’

  Babs’ bristled, ‘I ain’t got it – let’s knock that on the head from the get-go.’

  Her former friend toughened up too, her small hand tightening so hard around her glass her knuckles were clear to see through her skin.

  ‘I haven’t got it either. Look Babsie-girl, I haven’t come here to play she said-she said. I want this sorted out before someone gets hurt. You say you haven’t got it. Fine. I say I haven’t got it. Fine. So who else could have taken it? You must’ve said something to someone – that Kieran Scott for starters. Maybe he found out and wanted to get his hands back on the gold, the crafty little beggar.’

  The flippin’ cheek! As if Kieran would have it away. Babs ground her teeth together; she didn’t like anyone taking the rise out of her boy whatever had happened in the meantime. She reminded herself they were here to make peace so she loosened the grip of her jaw.

  ‘I never said nish to no one, got it? I was Stanley Miller’s other half and let me tell you, I learned all about how to keep secrets. I know too many of them, know what I mean?’ She took a breath needing her next words to sound neutral not angry. ‘You must’ve let it slip to someone. Maybe not on purpose, but somehow it just escaped. These things happen.’

  When Pearl opened her palms and held them high Babs thought, here we fucking go. She wasn’t in the mood for one of Pearl’s commune with the spirits moments.

  Babs relaxed when Pearl shrugged. ‘Those kinda things don’t happen to me, let me tell you. You’re forgetting I was the one hiding the stuff, I had most to lose if people came barging in looking for it.’

  Babs leaned forward, her voice low with sympathy. ‘No disrespect, but we’re all getting on so maybe you were having a senior moment, so you forgot about it.’

  Pearl kissed her teeth softly. ‘Forgot about it, my back foot. A fox never forgets her hole. As if I could forget that there’s gold under my backside every day.’

  Babs wasn’t giving up. ‘Perhaps someone spotted it in your room—‘

  Pearl slapped her forehead. ‘’Of course. I forgot!’ At last they were getting somewhere. Babs let out a long, noisy sigh of relief. ‘I had Superman and his X-Ray eyes over for tea. Or is that Spiderman? I can’t remember.’

  Babs nearly screamed in frustration, her gaze dancing around the pub. ‘Come on Pearl.
There’s gotta…’ She trailed off her gaze fixed in the distance. Her mouth tightened. ‘Could you excuse me a second Pearl, I gotta powder my nose.’

  Babs got up and marched into the main bar. When she was out of Pearl’s eye line, she hoisted herself up on the bar and let herself down the other side.

  ‘’Ere, what the hell are you doing?’ the barman rasped, his gaze jumping.

  Babs threw daggers his way. He knew exactly what she was doing. She crouched down and made her way along, pushing past the barman as she did so. He rapidly took himself to the other end of the bar and turned his back.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Babs wanted to shout but she kept her growl to a minimum so as not to alert Pearl.

  A very guilty looking Tiff and Flo were hiding by a crate of brew. Tiff avoided her gaze and it was left to Flo to whisper, ‘We followed you—‘

  ‘Effing sakes mum,’ Tiff punched over, ‘Flo saw the text from Pearl on your mobile saying you were meeting her here - The Bad Moon of all places - about the gold.’ Tiff’s eyes bugged wide on the word, ‘gold.’

  Flo didn’t seem so fazed. ‘We were scared for you. That gold is bad news.’

  It had been going well with Pearl or at least they were talking. ‘I can’t talk now. But I need both of you not to stick your oars…’

  Her voice froze as she noticed their gazes fixed on something over her head.

  Babs pivoted around. Shit! Bollocks! Pearl looked down on them, arms tensely folded.

  She shook her head in disgust, her dark eyes blazing. ‘I trusted you Babsie. What a fool I was.’

  Pearl stepped back. Her hand reached under her headscarf and, of all things, she pulled out a small mobile phone. It didn’t take her long to get it on. ‘You were right after all. She’s come mob-handed. My mistake.’

  Babs and her girls shot to their feet as the front door banged open.

  Pinky and Styley burst in. The brothers didn’t zero in on them but on the upmarket lads at the table who were mesmerised by the unfolding drama like they’d bagged the best seats in the house.

  ‘Out,’ Pinky yelled at them.

  One made the mistake of answering. ‘Now, steady on—‘

  The brothers were on them in a flash and grabbed them by the collar and threw them out onto the pavement. Styley advised the barman to go for a walk. He didn’t argue, slipping into the back.

  Pinky bolted the door and joined his grandmother. The brothers stood on either side of her looking very pleased with themselves. Not to be out done, Flo and Tiff did the same to Babs.

  ‘Came on your own, did ya?’ Babs spat, her face filled with thunder to rival the changing weather outside. ‘You’re the biggest, all-time liar there is.’

  Pearl proudly announced, ‘While you’re on your tod? Is that right? These are my grand boys, Pinky and Styley.’

  ‘The bastards who shot my Jen?’ Babs screamed. She rushed forward gripped with a raging madness, but Tiff pulled her back.

  ‘What?’ Pearl was stunned.

  ‘She’s chatting out of her bum hole grams,’ Styley said. ‘You can’t believe a word she says as you’ve just discovered. We don’t know no Jen.’

  Pinky pulled a revolver from his pocket while Styley drew a heavy cosh from his trousers and tapped it in his palm.

  ‘These two birds her backup? Not exactly the Sopranos, is it?’ Pinky sneered.

  Flo pulled out her own surprise - a silver pistol. ‘I can match you shot for shot. I clean out plastic gangsters like you and then go for a burger and coke. You wanna shoot it out? Give it a try.’

  It wasn’t the right moment for Babs to think about her journey with Flo but she felt a surge of pride in the girl. She reminded Babs of Stan back in his younger, cooler days.

  Pinky’s features turned nasty as he looked Flo up and down. ‘Tough girl, eh? Put your toy away, you’re playing with big boys here.’

  Flo laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I’m tough alright. And I don’t wear girly pink either.’

  The strange thing was it was like Flo and Pinky were in their own little world, trying to match shooter for shooter, dirty look for dirty look. Neither was willing to back down. A wave of electric tension passed between them. They bared their teeth at each other. Muscles bunched with alertness, ready to spring.

  A quick tap-tap-tap at the locked door grabbed everyone’s attention.

  Pearl nodded to Styley. ‘Answer it.’

  He was incredulous. ‘You’re joking, it could be the law.’

  ‘It’s not the Plod. I said answer it.’ She used her ‘grandmother knows best’ voice.

  As Styley walked over to the window his brother smiled at Flo and put his gun away so Flo lowered hers to her side. Styley looked outside. Then he pulled back the bolt and the door swung open.

  In walked Dee Black. No! No! No! Dee couldn’t be here. She couldn’t find out about Babs and the gold. Not like this.

  ‘Dee baby…’ she started.

  Her daughter cut her off as she questioned, ‘What’s happened?’

  Babs was gobsmacked because the question wasn’t directed at her but to that double crossing cow Pearl. Her tummy started churning. Something was deeply wrong here. Very wrong indeed. She looked desperately to Tiff and Flo for an explanation. One arched her brow, the other shrugged. They didn’t have a clue either.

  Pearl said with sarky pointedness, ‘your mum brought her youngest girl and Calamity Jane here with the short. So, as you can see, we’ve got a situation.’

  Dee was unfazed. ‘Yeah, but you brought your fan club too.’

  ‘Yes, I did, but I left them outside as a reserve in case I needed them, which it turns out I did.’

  Dazed, Babs’ eyes swung from one to the other in disbelief. ‘Dee, what’s going on?’

  Then her heart nearly cracked wide open when her eldest daughter sauntered to stand by Pearl like she was her right hand. This had to be a dream, right? More like the worst nightmare ever.

  Babs gasped, ‘Dee luv, get away from that woman now.’ In response Dee lengthened her spine and stood her ground. ‘You’re on the wrong side. You should be standing here with your family. What the hell are you doing?’

  When the answer came, it didn’t come from Dee.

  The handle of the pub’s office, behind the bar, turned. A tall, handsome, older black man stepped into the bar. Babs put her hand on Tiff’s shoulder to steady herself.

  No way.

  It couldn’t be.

  ‘Neville?’ Stunned she gulped as her legs turned to jelly.

  As her world began crashing down around her Babs shouted, no question this time, ‘Neville Campbell!’

  38

  ‘That’s right, you remember my dad, Neville, don’t ya mum?’

  Dee’s voice cracked like a whip, her face contorted in a way Babs had never seen before.

  It matched the ugliness growing in Babs at the nerve of this man. Turning up like an unwanted guest at the Christmas table. How dare he! And Dee standing alongside him like he was the Angel Gabriel after all she’d told her about this bastard.

  Babs turned on Dee. ‘Oh yeah, I remember him alright.’ She was losing the battle to keep her voice under control. ‘The man who had more of a crush on his hair than me? He left us Dee. Didn’t wanna know. I’d never stop you wanting to get to know him, if that’s what you choose, but what I don’t get is why he’s here. Now.’

  Babs noticed that Pinky and Styley had stood to attention like a couple of soldiers when Neville had appeared. And if he was something to do with them then he was connected to Pearl.

  She threw her accusation at Pearl. ‘This chancer something to do with you Pearl, ain’t he?’

  ‘Younger brother.’ Neville supplied the answer. ‘And the lads are my great-nephews, Pearl’s grandsons.’ He stepped fully into the room, his gaze never leaving Babs. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  Babs laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, you mean since you told me to fuck right off on Mile End Road, back in ’72, when yo
u got an eyeful of my big belly. You were a nasty piece of work then and I suspect that’s still the name of the game.’ Her furious gaze swung to her eldest daughter. ‘Betcha he never told you that he was with some other woman and her baby when I bumped into him that day? Your old fella is a man who loves to spreading his seed far and wide.’

  Dee raised her chin. ‘Dad’s told me all bout his ex-lady and kid.’

  Dad…

  Babs turned the flashing daggers in her eyes back onto her former boyfriend. ‘Playing happy families were ya.’ She clapped her hands with mock applause. Then abruptly stopped as a thought struck her. ‘Oh, I get it. It’s all becoming crystal clear. Pearl gets the grandkids as the muscle side of the operation and they’re backed up by head honcho Neville here who’s obviously moved a lot further up the criminal food chain since he legged it outta my life. Our life. And to keep it all in the family, they decided to poison my daughter against me. What’s the matter with you Dee? You been hooking up and listening to this crowd of chancers? What’s the matter with you?’

  Babs angrily marched over to Neville. ‘You wanna know about your old dad? I’ll tell you about him. I’ll tell you about how back in the day, a jury wouldn’t hang a dog on his evidence, no matter how many Bibles he swore on. He’s filling your head full of prime shit and you’re believing every venomous word of it. I thought I brought you up better than that.’

  Dee slowly moved to Babs. ‘But you never brought me up, did you?’

  If someone had twisted a knife in Babs’ heart it couldn’t have hurt more than Dee reminding her about their tragic history.

  Dee carried on. ‘Yeah, you’re right. He did tell me a lot of stuff, things you never felt like talking about even when I asked. Of course, I didn’t know whether they were true or not. But the one thing I could check turned out to be true.’ Dee’s voice shook with emotion. ‘I asked you, point blank, if you knew what happened to John’s gold and you insisted that you didn’t. I gave you every chance to fess up and you fobbed me off. But it wasn’t true, was it? You did know what happened to it. You and Aunty Pearl had it all along and you never said a word’