Malice (Rina Walker Book 3)

by Hugh Fraser

  I sit down and suddenly feel tired. I can see a payphone a good way along the corridor and I’d like to go and phone Lizzie but I don’t want to be gone when they come out to tell me the news. I sit back and close my eyes and I’m thinking about what’s gone on, and why Dawn was suddenly back in the Teale house, and why Marlene was being all friendly in the club, and telling me she’s joined the Brindle team. If Marlene or Jack had found Dawn and had her away, they’d know Brindle would come looking for her and the last place they’d take her is Powis Square. I’m wondering if Brindle’s given Dawn back to them willingly, in exchange for them joining him against George, and if he wasn’t just using her as bait all along. He could even have them on an earner. George isn’t exactly well known for paying his firm top whack. As I’m thinking about the possibilities the door to the ward opens and an Asian bloke in a white coat with a stethoscope round his neck and a clipboard in his hand comes over and sits next to me.

  ‘You are family?’ he says.

  ‘Just a friend.’

  ‘You know her name and address?’

  ‘Only her first name.’

  He looks at his clipboard. ‘And that is Dawn?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Do you know where she lives?’

  ‘She’s staying with me.’

  ‘The address please.’

  I tell him and he writes it down.

  ‘Is she going to be all right?’ I ask.

  ‘She has miscarried as a result of a pelvic trauma. There are contusions to the lower abdomen which is most likely to be the cause.’

  ‘What are contusions?’

  ‘Bruises. She also has a fever which may be due to an infection in the womb. We are conducting tests to ascertain this and will treat her appropriately when we get the results, which should be available shortly.’

  ‘Will she be all right?’

  ‘Assuming she responds to treatment.’

  ‘How long will she have to stay in here?’

  ‘At least twenty-four hours, possibly longer. I suggest you come back tomorrow.’

  ‘Can I see her before I go?’

  ‘Yes, but briefly please, she needs to rest.’

  I follow him into the ward and he says something to the nurse who spoke to me before, then he walks off between the lines of beds towards a door at the far end. The nurse nods to me and I follow her along a short passageway and into a private room. Dawn is lying in bed with her eyes closed but she looks peaceful now at least. There’s a drip attached to her wrist and some kind of monitor strapped to her other arm. The nurse goes to the side of the bed, looks at a dial below the plastic bag that’s supplying the drip and adjusts it.

  ‘No more than a few minutes please,’ she says, as she goes out and shuts the door.

  I sit on the bed, put my hand on Dawn’s and squeeze it gently. She turns her head slightly and opens her eyes.

  ‘How are you feeling, lovely?’

  Her eyes roam the ceiling for a moment and then she sees me. She opens her mouth and tries to speak but only manages a faint sigh.

  ‘Don’t try to talk,’ I say.

  She smiles a little and takes a breath. ‘Thanks for…’

  The breath goes out of her again and I move closer and stroke her forehead.

  ‘You just lie still and get better. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.’

  Her eyelids start to close and I feel her relaxing.

  ‘You will come?’ she whispers.

  ‘I’ll be here,’ I say.

  I wait a couple of minutes until I’m sure she’s sleeping then I thank the nurse and ask what time I should come the next day. She tells me visiting hours are 4pm to 6pm and I take the lift to the ground floor, leave by the main exit and walk along Praed Street to Edgware Road. As I’m waiting for a cab I see an N16 night bus coming up from Marble Arch. I’m right by the bus stop, so I put my hand out, get on and sit downstairs. I tell the conductor I’m going to Clifton Road, give him a shilling and get a ticket from his machine and eight pence change.

  A couple of drunks a few seats in front of me start arguing about some fight they’ve been to. One of them’s saying the ref was a wanker and shouldn’t have stopped the fight after his man got knocked about, because he would have won it if he’d been allowed to carry on, and he should know because he trained in the same gym as him. The other says he’s just pissed off because he’s lost a pony on it and the fighter he had money on is the wanker and couldn’t punch his way out of a paper bag. The other one calls him a cunt and they start shouting. One grabs the other by the collar and bangs his head on the back of the seat in front and all at once they’re grappling with each other and swinging punches. The driver looks back from the cab, sees what’s happening and stops the bus. The conductor comes past me, stands between me and the fight and points to the back of the bus. I take his advice, hop off the platform and walk the rest of the way. As I get near home I have a good look round in case there’s a Teale about but I don’t see anything. I check with Dennis and when he tells me no one’s been asking for me, I reckon Fedora man got away with it.

  Dennis asks how the girl who went in the ambulance is and I tell him she’s going to be all right. He does a great job of pretending he’s not interested in what goes on in my life but I can tell he’s burning to find out. He knows I’m up to no good but he’s too keen on the bung he gets to ask me what’s going on and it suits me to keep it that way.

  I take the lift, go into the flat and put the kettle on. While it boils, I stand at the kitchen window and watch the dawn break over the rooftops. I think of that poor girl in her hospital bed and wonder if she knows she’s lost the baby yet. Perhaps they’ll tell her in the morning. I’m just glad she’s safe and away from those beasts who have abused and tormented her and I hope she’s sleeping peacefully. The kettle boils and I make a cup of cocoa, take it into the bedroom, get undressed and get between the sheets. I fluff up my pillows, sit up in bed and open my book. They’re arriving at Manderley and the young bride’s a bit overwhelmed by the grandeur and beauty of the house and the estate and she’s meeting Frith the butler and Mrs Danvers. When I read that she’s “tall and gaunt, dressed in deep black with her prominent cheekbones and a skull’s face, parchment-white, set on a skeleton’s frame”, I shiver a bit and think that compared with Mrs Danvers maybe Marlene’s not so scary after all. As the cocoa warms me, my eyelids start to droop and I close the book, turn off the light and snuggle down to sleep.

  10

  I wake at midday and remember I’ve got to get to Hoxton Square and see Brindle. I can only hope he hasn’t found out that Dawn’s been lifted. I make a cup of coffee while the bath’s running and think about what I’m going to say to him. If I’m right about him having Danny, Jack and Marlene Teale on his books after he’s given them Dawn back, and most of Viner’s firm as well, then he’s probably got more than enough weight to go against George and get a result. After what he’s done to Dawn I’d put him in the ground today, but I reckon George is right to want to find out who he’s got with him, in case some other bright spark decides to take over command once Brindle’s been done. I finish my coffee, get out of the bath and dry myself, then I go through to the bedroom and put on clean underwear, a pencil skirt, a polo neck sweater and my Courrège boots. I give myself a light make-up, brush my hair, slip the blade into my waistband and put on my suede jacket. When I put the Smith & Wesson in my bag I’m reminded that I need to ask Bert to get me another one to keep as a spare.

  I drive the Cortina along Marylebone Road, and then Pentonville, to the Old Street roundabout, turn left and park in Hoxton Street. I get out of the car, walk round the corner into the square and see that one side of it is cordoned off and lined with trucks, a couple of caravans and an old London bus. A bloke in a black anorak and a woolly hat, who’s leaning against one of the trucks, steps forward as I approach and asks me what I want. I say I’ve come to see Johnny Brindle and he tells me I’ll have to wait because they are
just about to shoot a scene. I can see a small crowd of people on the pavement outside a Victorian terraced house further along the square. There’s a camera on a tripod and a trolley nearby with a machine on it and a man wearing headphones sitting in front of it. A beefy bloke is up a ladder adjusting a big lamp on a stand and there’s a younger lad holding a long pole with something that looks like a big sock on the end of it. Mike, the director, is standing apart from the group talking to a man holding a megaphone. He sees me, waves and comes over.

  ‘Rina, I’m so glad you could make it,’ he says while shaking my hand.

  ‘Hello Mike.’

  ‘You’ve chosen the perfect moment to visit. Johnny’s just about to confront the villain of the piece and give him his just deserts.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘They’ve been working with Ken Merton, the fight arranger, all morning while we’ve been doing establishing shots of the square. There’s Ken now.’

  He points to a bloke in a red tracksuit coming out of the front door of the house. The man with the megaphone approaches. ‘We’re ready Guv.’

  Mike nods to him. ‘Do come and watch won’t you, Rina?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  ‘This is Ed, our trusty first assistant. Ed, this is Rina.’

  Ed and I smile and shake hands.

  ‘Can we find a chair for Rina?’ says Mike to no one in particular as we walk towards the camera. A woman sitting on a stool, with a folder open on her knee, smiles at me and points to a canvas chair beside her and I go over and sit in it.

  Ed raises his megaphone to his lips. ‘Stand by!’

  The cameraman looks into the camera and turns it until it’s pointing towards the front of the house, and the lad holding the long pole raises it above his head and swings the sock thing towards the front door. The man sitting at the trolley presses a button on his machine and says something I don’t catch.

  ‘Running,’ says the cameraman and someone puts a board with chalk writing on it in front of the camera, calls out a number and smacks the arm at the top of the board down. Mike nods to Ed and he raises his megaphone and pulls the trigger.

  ‘And… Action!’

  The door of the house opens and a man with a briefcase, about forty, tall and stocky, steps out. He takes a couple of strides along the paved path and then stops dead as Brindle opens the metal gate from the street and walks towards him. The man turns back to the door and tries to open it. Brindle grabs him by the shoulder, swings him round and catches him on the side of the head with a solid right hook.

  ‘Ouch! That hurt you stupid cunt!’ says the man, falling onto the doorstep.

  ‘Cut!’ shouts Mike. He leaps forward and bends over the injured man. ‘Are you all right Henry?’

  ‘Bloody idiot!’ says Henry, holding his head.

  Mike helps him to his feet and leads him in my direction. ‘Come and sit down. Nurse!’

  I stand up and offer my seat. Henry sits down and a woman arrives with a medical bag which she puts down beside his chair. ‘Let’s have a look at you darling,’ she says, putting a hand under his chin and raising his head.

  ‘Ouch!’ says Henry as she touches his temple.

  ‘Mmm, yes, he has caught you, hasn’t he?’ says the nurse.

  ‘Fucking lunatic!’

  Mike, Ed and the fight arranger are talking to Brindle by the door of the house. The nurse is giving Henry some pills and a glass of water as Brindle comes over. ‘I’m sorry about that mate. I aimed to miss, but you was a bit off balance and I got you by mistake.’

  ‘What the fuck was all that rehearsal for?’ says Henry.

  ‘Like I said, you was off balance, so you kind of fell on to the punch. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Now I’ve heard fucking everything!’ says Henry.

  The fight arranger comes over. ‘You did lose your balance, in actual fact Henry.’

  ‘As for you, you couldn’t arrange a piss up in a fucking brewery!’

  Mike approaches the happy group. ‘How are you doing Henry?’

  ‘I’ll live.’

  Mike looks at the nurse. ‘What do you think Brenda?’

  She takes another look at Henry. ‘The skin isn’t broken. He’s bruised, but as it’s on the bone I don’t think it’ll swell very much and make-up ought to hide any discolouring.’

  Mike puts a hand on Henry’s shoulder. ‘I’m very sorry you’ve been hurt Henry and I’m sure you’d like to rest and recuperate. We’re losing the light a bit anyway so we’re going to go inside and shoot scene twenty-seven with Johnny and Kim. You get off home now and we’ll have another go at the fight in the morning, after you’ve had a chance to run through it with Ken a couple more times.’ He looks round for Ed. ‘Can we have a car for Henry please?’

  ‘On its way Guv,’ says Ed, raising his megaphone. ‘Right boys, we’re moving upstairs.’

  The cameraman steps back and I move out of the way as one of his team unscrews something under the camera, lifts it off the tripod and carries into the house. A younger bloke picks up the tripod and follows him. While the trolley, the chairs and various boxes and bits of gear are being moved inside, Henry walks rather stiffly to one of the caravans, opens the door and gets in. Mike and Brindle exchange a few words and come over to where I’m standing.

  ‘I’m sorry the first bit of work you saw was a bit of a balls up Rina.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ I say.

  ‘The next scene is rather more intimate and gentle, between Johnny and his paramour and I hope you’ll stay and see how we put it all together.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say.

  ‘Good. Right. Well, I’d better go in. Why don’t you both relax in Johnny’s trailer while we set up?’

  Mike heads for the house and a young girl who’s been lurking nearby walks up to us. ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’

  ‘I’ll have a tea love,’ says Brindle.

  ‘Coffee thanks,’ I say.

  Brindle walks to the caravan beside the one Henry got into and opens the door for me. I step inside and Brindle follows, turns on a light, sweeps some clothes off the bed and flops down on it. ‘Fucking actors!’ he says.

  I sit at the table opposite him. ‘Did you mean to dot him?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘He’s been asking for it. He starts off all smarmy with how good I am and how well I’m doing, then he starts telling me what I should do and how I should say the lines, but it’s all about him looking good and me looking a cunt, and when I won’t do what he says he starts calling me a fucking amateur and throwing wobblers.’

  ‘What does Mike do?’

  ‘Strokes his feathers, calms him down and tells him how brilliant he is, the spineless twat.’

  ‘How did you get into this?’

  ‘I met the casting woman in a club and she asked me to test and then Mike’s all over me and gives me the part.’

  ‘What happened with the lingerie girl the other night?’

  ‘She was fucking useless. Froze up when he turned the camera on. He still wants you to do it. Told me to try and talk you into it.’

  ‘No chance.’

  ‘I thought so.’

  He closes his eyes and lies back on the bed. I look at the smug kid, who’s used a pregnant girl like a pawn in a stupid game that he’s playing to prove to his old man that he’s king of the castle, and for two pins I’d carve him up right now and put a stop to his dirty little tricks.

  There’s a knock on the door. Brindle gets to his feet and opens it. The girl with the tea and coffee comes in and puts two mugs on the table.

  ‘Cheers Kirsty,’ says Brindle.

  The girl smiles and leaves. Brindle joins me at the table, selects the tea mug, takes a sip and looks me in the eye.

  ‘Are you going to do Preston?’ he asks.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I can slap a good earner into you.’

  ‘It’s not about that.’

  ‘Th
en what?’

  ‘Who have you got?’

  ‘A lot more than I had at the Nucleus.’

  ‘Just as well.’

  ‘I’ve got all of Viner’s now, the Teales and a good few from Brum, when I give them a shout.’

  ‘What will you do about the rest of George’s mob?’

  ‘Put them on the firm.’

  ‘Expensive.’

  ‘I want a clean sweep.’

  ‘You’re going to need it.’

  ‘With you, I’ve got it.’

  I look out of the window for a bit, as if I’m considering the offer. When he’s waited long enough I turn back to him. ‘Fifty-fifty on everything?’

  ‘Sure.’

  I do a bit more window time, then look at him again.

  ‘All right,’ I say.

  ‘Good girl.’

  As I’m stifling the urge to smash my coffee mug in his face there’s another knock on the door. Brindle opens it and Kirsty appears.

  ‘They’re ready for you upstairs, Johnny,’ she says.

  ‘OK love.’

  ‘Wardrobe are up there with a change for you.’

  Brindle looks round the caravan. ‘Where’s my script?’

  He finds it on bed and turns to me. ‘Coming to have a look?’

  We step out of the caravan and follow Kirsty into the house and up the stairs. Mike is on the landing talking to Ed beside the sound trolley. I can see past them into a bedroom where the camera is set up on its tripod with a couple of lights on stands beside it. A door opens and a blousy woman with red hair in a beehive and too much make-up appears and crooks a finger at Brindle. ‘Come to me, Johnny my love.’