The Locksmith

by Linda Calvey

  PART TWO

  NEW LIFE, BAD HABITS

  Canning Town,

  London, 1993

  CHAPTER 16

  A runner for a big-time blagger Charlie Beaumont came to their door. He already knew to ask for Ruby. The brother and sister team had a reputation for getting jobs done.

  They were still small-time though, doing carefully chosen break-ins, but they could feed themselves and take care of their small family. They’d even managed to give Cathy the kind of send-off their mother deserved – horses in black plumes, a Victorian carriage to carry the coffin and a limousine to carry Ruby, Bobby and George. But most of all Ruby was grateful they had enough money that she could spend time with George, and give him the care he needed instead of trying to hold down a job while being a full-time mother to a small baby. Over the last two years George had grown into a boisterous, happy toddler and while they still missed Cathy and Louie, they were happy.

  Coming to the attention of someone like Charlie, though, wasn’t something that Ruby had planned for. But gossip in the pubs and shops spread to Charlie’s ears, and now she had a shady-looking geezer slouching in their doorway. This could mean trouble or opportunity, but either way Charlie Beaumont wasn’t someone you said no to.

  When Bobby got home she handed over George, who screamed in delight at seeing his big brother. Some people said taking care of children was woman’s work, but they hadn’t seen the way Bobby was with little George.

  ‘All right, little man. It’s good to see you, too,’ Bobby laughed as he juggled the squirming bundle of little boy. As soon as he got George settled he turned his head to speak to Ruby, but was left with his mouth hanging open as he took in his sister.

  Ruby was dressed in her best, hair done, heels on.

  ‘Goin’ somewhere special, sis?’

  ‘It would seem so,’ Ruby answered. She knew Bobby wasn’t going to be happy when she told him about Charlie, but they were a team. ‘We had a visitor earlier, a runner from Charlie Beaumont.’

  ‘Charlie Beaumont! What would the likes of him want with us?’

  ‘About what you’d expect,’ Ruby answered. ‘Seems he’s interested in your skills . . .’

  ‘Rube. I don’t know. Pullin’ some small jobs, getting by . . . That’s one thing. But workin’ for the likes of Charlie? That’s another thing altogether.’

  ‘I’m not sure we ’ave a choice, Bobby. He’s asked to meet me, and that’s what I’m goin’ to do. Besides, this could be our big break! Just think, we could soon be rakin’ in cash hand over fist.’ Ruby laughed and smiled at her brother, but inside she was a mix of terrified and excited.

  She was going out, alone, to meet an armed robber who inspired an equal mix of fear and celebrity in the East End. The idea of working for a blagger had been unthinkable even a year or two ago. Now, it could be the next step on the path Ruby had chosen.

  ‘I don’t like it, Rube,’ Bobby said, his face stern in the low light of evening. He held little George close to him as if his bulk could protect him from what they were getting into.

  ‘It’s fine, Bobby, it’ll be fine,’ Ruby murmured. ‘Working for Charlie could be a different world. We’d be looked after, ’ave bigger jobs, more respect, more money. It could be a good thing.’

  Bobby nodded. They both knew what working for a big-time villain meant. It meant you were accepted. It meant nicer things, bigger cars, nicer clothes, but, most importantly, it meant you had a protector, someone bigger to lean on, if you did things right.

  ‘But what if we do somethin’ wrong? What if we don’t like playin’ these games? What do we do then?’ Bobby insisted.

  Ruby smiled but, inside, she shuddered. ‘We ’ave to play. We ’ave no choice.’

  Ruby left Bobby with little George and headed out. She’d taken care dressing herself, selecting a new silk blouse and a smart red skirt. She’d dusted on face powder gently, and pulled a mascara wand through her long lashes. She was as ready as she could be.

  As the door of the Beckton Arms shut behind her, a hush formed over the smoky bar that smelled of cheap aftershave and expensive beer. For a moment, Ruby felt like she’d walked into a saloon, as all heads swivelled to stare at her, and conversations stopped mid-sentence, every man in that place wondering what on earth a woman was doing there unaccompanied, especially one who exuded glamour like she did.

  Ruby stared back boldly. She looked a million dollars, and the sight of their amazement served only to bolster her confidence. Slowly, she navigated the crumpled, sticky carpet, walking up to the bar, her head held high, as if she owned the place. She flicked her long hair and stood in front of the barman, who was looking at her like a cartoon dog might look at a bone, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

  Two men standing at the bar moved aside, putting down their pints. There was a feeling of expectation in the room. What would happen next?

  ‘Gin and tonic, please,’ Ruby said without hesitation, watching her words land in the silence with wry amusement. She had never been in a pub on a Saturday night, and she had certainly never been to one alone. It wasn’t the done thing. In many ways, life in the East End was like being in a time warp. Decent women didn’t go to bars alone, only prostitutes ever did that. Somehow, everyone in that pub knew she wasn’t a whore. So, what then was she doing there? Ruby smoothed down her pencil skirt, relishing the feel of the expensive silk lining against her skin. She was tall in her heels, and she made sure she looked the barman straight in the eyes.

  ‘Right, love, well, why don’t ya sit ’ere at the bar with me? I’ll keep ya company. Don’t want a pretty girl like you to get lonely.’ The barman grinned sleazily as he poured a generous shot of gin.

  Ruby reached into the bag that she always carried, the knock-off her mum had bought her. She preferred to keep this handbag, it was like keeping a piece of Cathy with her. She was about to bring out her purse when a familiar voice sounded.

  ‘I’ll get that, mate. Well, well, if it ain’t Ruby Green Eyes.’ It was clear that Freddie Harris had put away a few pints already that evening as he swayed slightly on the spot. His mate Smithy was standing next to him, a pale lad with dark hair and eyes that glinted, sizing up Ruby and clearly liking what he saw. Both men grinned like foxes eyeing a chicken coop.

  ‘Freddie, I can’t seem to get away from you,’ Ruby smiled, making a couple of the men within earshot smirk. ‘No matter how hard I try.’

  Freddie, cocky as ever, swaggered up to her. Ruby turned to him, her eyes meeting his, flashing under her thick, dark lashes. Freddie smiled widely but stepped back all the same. ‘And what brings you out, Ruby?’ Freddie said, emphasising her proper name.

  Ruby considered ignoring his question, but assuming her contact wasn’t running late, he’d know what she was up to soon enough. ‘As it happens, Freddie, I’m meetin’ someone,’ she said.

  Freddie looked about to launch another of his smarmy come-ons, but before he could move, the door of the pub opened for a second time. Glancing over, Freddie caught sight of the area’s number-one crime boss, big-time blagger Charlie Beaumont, dressed in a sharp Savile Row suit with flash gold jewellery and trailing expensive cologne. Freddie stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t every day he got to smarm up to a proper villain.

  ‘All right, Mr Beaumont,’ Freddie said. ‘Nice to see ya.’

  Charlie ignored the weasel, his gaze turning instantly to Ruby. For the second time that evening, the tables went silent. Even the thick fug of cigarette smoke seemed to still.

  Ruby looked at the man who was both feared and respected in the underworld, a man who was a big player, someone everyone knew not to mess with.

  ‘You must be Ruby,’ Charlie said to the young woman. He looked her up and down, seeing the effort she’d made, the style she carried herself with, and he nodded his approval. Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby could see Freddie looking between her face and Charlie’s, at a complete loss, until realisation began dawning on his face
. This was the man Ruby had arranged to meet. This man, this crime boss, was Ruby’s reason for being in the notorious crook hangout at 8 p.m. on a Saturday night. Ruby almost laughed out loud as the look of comprehension spread over Freddie’s thin face, his beady eyes flitting between them both. Well, this’d give him something to stare at.

  ‘Yes, I’m Ruby. You must be Charlie Beaumont. I’m pleased to meet ya,’ she said, extending her slender hand for him to shake.

  ‘Not botherin’ you, is he?’ Charlie said, his eyes not moving from Ruby’s face. It was clear he meant Freddie, though.

  ‘Oh no, he’s nuthin’ to worry about,’ Ruby smiled, enjoying every moment of Freddie’s discomfort.

  ‘Let me know if he’s annoyin’ ya and I’ll sort it. Now, you’re lookin’ too good for in ’ere, and there’s too many ears. Let me take you to a place I know where we can talk.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

  Despite Charlie’s fearsome reputation, the violence he perpetrated, the robberies he’d pulled off and the adversaries he’d beaten, Ruby didn’t feel unsafe. She knew he wasn’t a ladies’ man. He’d been married for years and, unlike the other big-time crooks, wasn’t seen sporting girlfriends on his arm with a wife tucked away somewhere out of the limelight. By all accounts he’d stayed faithful to the woman he’d married. He’d robbed banks, had underworld contacts all over the city, and was known for dealing swiftly, and decisively, with any betrayal, but above all he was a businessman. Ruby understood business. Her choice was made. She nodded her agreement.

  Charlie nodded back to her. ‘I’ll take you for somethin’ to eat and we can talk, but let’s get out of ’ere.’

  Ruby let the gangster steer her out of the bar with the lightest touch on her back. As he opened the door for her and stepped aside to let her through, she couldn’t resist throwing a look of pure victory at Freddie Harris and Smithy, who were standing at the bar still, their mouths open, gawping at this new, unexpected turn of events.

  Once outside, Charlie opened the door of his shiny black Merc and Ruby slid into the front seat, feeling the intense thrill of sitting on white leather seats. Charlie drove them north to Epping. They eventually stopped outside a small family-run Italian restaurant. Leaving his car on the double yellow lines as if he was above the law in all things, Charlie opened the car door and helped Ruby out and in through the inviting doorway. It was clear Charlie was a regular, as the staff greeted him like a visiting dignitary.

  The owner of the restaurant appeared, a balding Italian man in a grey suit, and personally ushered them both through the restaurant, past the diners at their tables, to a back room. Inside this room was a single table, already set up with white tablecloth, white roses and a bottle of wine set to chill. Ruby stared round, taking it all in.

  Charlie pulled out her chair for her and she sat, hoping the flush of fear mingled with excitement wasn’t evident on her cheeks, betraying the fact that every sense in her body was on high alert. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating, but she felt strangely at home with this feared man, in this room far away from everyone she loved.

  The waiter simpered, then poured wine into her glass. After he’d presented the day’s specials to them, Ruby took the chance to assess the man who now sat in front of her. He was an attractive man in his fifties, she guessed, with a dark grey suit cut perfectly to fit his strong frame. He had piercing blue eyes, matched only by the winking gold of his cufflinks and designer watch, worn so effortlessly. The scent of rich aftershave, warmed by his tanned skin, was a light undertone in the room. For a moment, a brief second, Ruby wondered if this was a seduction, and everything she’d heard about how he was faithful to his wife had been wrong. Then Charlie leaned in, his elbows planted on the immaculate tablecloth, and spoke in his low, authoritative voice.

  ‘We’ve got a job we want doin’.’ His manner was firm yet friendly, his smile seemingly genuine.

  ‘We?’ Ruby said, her throat dry. She took a small sip of the wine. She knew power when she saw it, and Charlie oozed it.

  ‘Some associates. You don’t need the details, Ruby,’ he said, waving away her question. ‘Just know that we need a job doin’ and your brother’s name has cropped up in some circles of mine.’

  Ruby nodded, taking another sip. The white wine was dry and cold.

  The candlelight flickered as Charlie leaned in still further. ‘It ain’t the biggest job, I’ll admit it, but your brother—’

  ‘Bobby,’ Ruby interjected.

  ‘Bobby, I’m sorry I forgot my manners,’ Charlie continued, ‘well it seems like it’ll be right up his street, and I need to test him, to see if he’s loyal.’

  ‘Oh, he’s loyal all right, but I need to know what the job is before I agree,’ Ruby said, staring back at the gangster.

  Charlie laughed at that. ‘I ’eard it was you who done the deals. That’s fine by me. I like to see a woman with brains takin’ charge – and you look like a smart bird. Listen, Ruby, this job would be a way in. If it went well, then there might be other “work” I’d put his way, if you get my drift?’

  Ruby nodded. She understood completely. ‘Go on,’ she replied.

  ‘If you like, it’ll be a test of his skills and loyalty under pressure. You sure Bobby is up to it?’ Charlie said, leaning back now and taking a long slug of the expensive wine. Out of nowhere, a waiter scurried over and refilled his glass.

  ‘Depends what he’ll be doin’. What did you ’ave in mind, Charlie?’ Ruby enjoyed the thrill of using the boss’s first name. She’d seen how others virtually bowed to him, and called him ‘Mr Beaumont’, and she’d decided in that instant that she would be different. She’d call him Charlie and consider herself his equal.

  If he thought she was being too familiar, Charlie didn’t show it. ‘There’s a bookie up the West End who – how do I put it? – who is out of favour . . . We did some business but he screwed us for part of the money, ’scuse my language. We know there’s at least sixty grand in the safe, and we want to teach him a lesson not to fuck with us.’

  Ruby sat back, a little startled at his turn of phrase, but not threatened by it. ‘And you want my Bobby to unlock that safe.’

  ‘Exactly. But I need to know if he’s up to it. Is he up to it, Ruby?’

  Charlie met her eyes. He’d ended up ordering for both of them; a plate of spaghetti with veal and a dressed salad, which was now being placed carefully on the table in front of them both.

  ‘Buon appetito,’ the waiter said softly as he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Charlie picked up his fork, which caught the light, before sinking it into the pasta and swirling spaghetti expertly around the prongs. Ruby watched him, momentarily fascinated by the deftness of his movements. Charlie looked up and caught her intense interest. He laughed at the sight of her, all thoughts of the dodgy deal they were making lost for a brief second as he decided to teach her how to eat Italian food properly.

  ‘You pick up the fork like this . . . then you turn it so the spaghetti catches on the fork and as ya turn, it gathers more and more, then . . .’ Charlie opened his mouth and neatly popped the pasta into his mouth, dabbing the tomato sauce off afterwards with a pristine white napkin.

  ‘You ’ave a go,’ he said, smiling.

  Ruby couldn’t help herself, she giggled.

  ‘I’ll give anythin’ a go, within reason,’ she countered, scooping up a forkful of the dish and delicately nibbling at the pasta.

  Charlie laughed. ‘I ’ope you’re better at makin’ deals than you are at eatin’ dinner!’

  Ruby blushed. She looked over at him and, placing her fork down, she said, in all seriousness, ‘Look, Charlie. My brother’s a good man. He’s the best at what he does, no one is more gifted – or more loyal – than him. In fact, he’s too good a bloke, which is why I step in and do this bit. He’ll do the work if the money’s right, and I’m the one who makes sure the money’s right. I’d like to check out the p
lace beforehand, go down there with Bobby and make sure he’s happy and we know what we’re gettin’ into. If you’re happy with that, and we can agree the fee, then it’s a deal.’ She had started to tremble inwardly as she spoke. He might be friendly enough, but she had the feeling that what she was doing was more akin to baiting a lion. He looked happy but at any minute he could pounce, and then there would be his giant jaws, his large teeth biting down on her.

  Ruby kept her hands folded on the table in front of her now, all attempts to eat the meal abandoned. She couldn’t show him how scared she was, how out of her depth she felt right now.

  ‘Tell me what you’ve got in mind and I’ll tell ya if we’ll do it.’

  Charlie stopped eating. He dabbed his mouth rather theatrically. The air went still, even the candles seemed to stop flickering. Charlie looked up at her, and she thought, This is it, now is when he attacks.

  Suddenly, the big man’s face creased into an amused smile. ‘So, this is how it’s goin’ to be, is it? All right, Ruby Murphy, I think we could make a good team. If Bobby turns off the alarms and gets into the bookies, he can keep half of what’s in there, which is thirty grand for you. I’m reliably informed there’s sixty in there.’

  Ruby almost gasped. Thirty thousand pounds was a small fortune to them. They’d never had that much money in all their lives. If Bobby did this one job, they could move away, somewhere nice in the country, somewhere where little George could run and play outside.

  Steady yourself . . . steady, Ruby, she admonished herself. Hold it together. The young woman smiled. ‘I think we ’ave a deal, Charlie.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘We do, conditional on me meetin’ Bobby.’

  Ruby understood. He didn’t take anything on trust. ‘Of course,’ she demurred.

  With that the kingpin lifted up his glass. ‘A toast to us and a new workin’ relationship.’