by Sam Michaels
*
Wayne was in the Lamb and leaned back in his seat with a roll-up hanging from his mouth. It amused him to see Sparrow standing before him, begging him to be merciful with his girlfriend, Lillian.
‘What do you reckon, Dan? Shall I let her off the hook?’
Dan shrugged.
Wayne looked back at Sparrow. ‘See, the thing is, it ain’t the first time that little slag you’re screwing has done me over.’
‘But she didn’t mean to – honest, Boss.’
‘Yes she fucking did. She knows full well that I run the tarts on the bridge so why was she up there turning tricks behind my back?’
‘She… erm…’
‘Save your breath, Sparrow.’
‘Please, Boss, she won’t do it again.’
Wayne looked across the pub to where two of his gang were standing over Lillian. He pointed at her then indicated with his finger for his men to fetch her over.
Sparrow looked over his shoulder then back at Wayne. ‘Let me have it instead of her. I’ll take Lillian’s punishment – please, Boss.’
Wayne smirked at Dan before answering. ‘If you’re so fucking desperate to have it, Sparrow, by all means, but she’s still getting it too.’
As the men dragged Lillian towards Wayne, she began to struggle and whimpered as she tried to pull back. But she was a small woman, slight of build and weak, a good match for Sparrow but not against Wayne’s men. They held her firmly and Wayne came from behind his table to stand towering over her. Sparrow jumped to her defence, blocking her, but Wayne shoved him to one side.
‘I would have thought you’d learned your lesson the last time, Lillian,’ Wayne said and pulled back her hair to reveal a cauliflower ear. ‘Still mutton, are you?’
‘Please, Boss, don’t do it. She can’t hardly hear nothing since you thumped her last time. Do it to me. Give me twice what you would give her. Look at her, there ain’t much of her and she’s shaking like a leaf. Tell him, Lillian. Tell Wayne you’re sorry and you’ll never do it again.’
Tears streaked down Lillian’s pale face and as Wayne stepped closer, her legs buckled. If his men hadn’t been holding her she’d have dropped to the floor. He took three large gold rings from his trouser pocket and slipped them on to his sausage-like fingers. ‘Brace yourself, you tart, this is gonna hurt,’ he said as he pulled his arm back.
Lillian clenched her eyes closed and Wayne leaned forward and shouted, ‘Boo,’ in her face.
Lillian screamed and Wayne laughed. ‘She’s easily startled,’ he said to Dan who was sitting at the table and smiling.
Sparrow went to get between him and Lillian again, but Wayne swung his fist and knocked him to the floor.
Lillian, seeing her boyfriend’s mouth bleeding and him sprawled spread-eagled, began sobbing.
‘Shut up, woman or I’ll give you something to fucking cry about,’ Wayne barked.
His threat had the desired effect and she gasped a few long juddering breaths before her sobs stopped. Then without warning, Wayne punched her hard on the nose.
Lillian’s head snapped back and she looked dazed. Her nose was clearly broken and already swelling. Blood poured over her mouth, off her chin and down her pale green, washed-out dress.
‘Look at the fucking mess you’re making,’ Wayne said, turning his nose up. Then his large hand grabbed at the neckline of her dress and he ripped it down, exposing her bare bosoms.
‘You don’t want your pretty dress getting blood-stained,’ he said, smirking.
Lillian looked embarrassed but could do nothing to cover herself.
Wayne then grabbed the flesh of her left breast. ‘Fuck me, there’s not even a handful here. Them punters who pay you must feel right ripped off when they cop a load of your scrawny tits.’
Lillian hung her head.
‘Get her out of here,’ Wayne told his men. ‘She’s a fucking disgrace.’
Lillian was hauled across the pub and unceremoniously thrown out the doors.
Wayne glanced over at Sparrow who was now getting back on his feet. ‘You little shit,’ he growled and whacked him again, this time on the side of his head, which sent Sparrow back down. ‘Stay on your arse. You can get up when I say you can,’ Wayne said, then ordered one of his gang, ‘Kick him. I’d do it meself if me foot weren’t fucked.’
Wayne sauntered back to his table, listening to the noise behind him – the sickening thud of his bloke’s boot in Sparrow’s side and the pathetic yelps as Sparrow’s ribs cracked.
He sat back down and removed his rings before knocking back the remains of his pint. ‘Sling him out when you’re done,’ he called.
‘That’s a bit callous, ain’t it?’ Dan asked.
‘Eh?’
‘He’s one of our own. Fair enough, he asked for Lillian’s punishment but don’t you think we should send him to get patched up?’
‘Fuck off, Dan. I ain’t forking out for him to see a doctor. That’s his lookout.’
The landlord had placed another pint of ale in front of Wayne. ‘Fucking doctor, as if I give a shit about Sparrow,’ he mumbled as he picked up his drink.
As Wayne drank, he looked over the top of his glass and saw the pub doors open. His heart sank when he saw Johnny Dymond walk in but, thankfully, he seemed to have come alone. Johnny marched towards the table with an air of confidence about him that narked Wayne.
Johnny looked down at Sparrow then turned to him. ‘Miss Garrett would like to see you, now.’
‘What, right now?’
‘Yes, that’s what I said or are you deaf as well as ugly?’
Wayne gritted his teeth and refrained from jumping up and landing one on Johnny. He would have liked to tell him to clear off and that he was nothing more than a little upstart who thought he was something just because he worked for Garrett. But he kept quiet and gulped down a few more mouthfuls of beer.
‘Come on, Dan,’ he said as he stood.
‘No, just you,’ from Johnny.
‘I need Dan to drive me. I can’t, on account of me foot.’
‘All right, but he can wait in the car.’
Minutes later, Wayne was sitting next to Dan as his car followed Johnny’s. He wiped his hand over his bald head, feeling it was soaked with sweat, which was beginning to run down his thick neck.
‘What do you think she wants?’
‘I dunno, Dan. I owe her; she’s calling it in, I suppose. I hope that’s all it is.’
‘I hope you’re right, Wayne, and she ain’t changed her mind about letting you off for cutting the brakes on her car.’
‘Yeah, me too, Dan, me too.’
Wayne sat in worried silence for the rest of the journey to Battersea, his mind turning with the possibilities of what Garrett could want from him. As they approached her premises, he held his hand out and saw it was shaking. ‘Fuck me, pull yourself together,’ he told himself. But the concerned look in Dan’s eyes worried him further.
‘Wish me luck,’ he said to Dan as he climbed out of the car.
‘Yeah, good luck, mate. You’re gonna need it.’
*
Once the Vauxhall mob had left, Benjamin felt himself relax. He’d been fraught with nerves the whole time Wayne had been in the office. For all he knew, Wayne could have been the man responsible for murdering Lash. Georgina hadn’t yet said who’d killed her husband but he knew his boss knew. She’d been acting out of character since his funeral and he wondered if Lash’s killer had attended. After all, just about every face in London and further afield had been present. In fact, Lash’s killer had probably been there, watching the service with twisted satisfaction.
He knew Georgina would never divulge to him who the killer was, not until she’d dealt with it, but now, seeing her with Wayne, he wondered if she was setting him up for a mighty fall. She’d obviously orchestrated for Johnny to reverse into Wayne’s car and had insisted that Wayne leave his damaged vehicle with her for repair. Benjamin could see that Wayne had been relu
ctant to have Johnny drive them back to Vauxhall but the man hadn’t had the nerve to voice his objections. After readily agreeing to perform a business transaction with David Maynard on Georgina’s behalf, Wayne couldn’t get out of her office quick enough.
‘Get Big H to fix Wayne’s car this afternoon. I need it done as soon as possible,’ she told Victor who nodded and rushed to do her bidding.
Benjamin looked at his ledger and studied his lines of figures – monies in and monies out of the business. The incoming cash was far higher than the outgoing and he’d be pleased to report to Georgina a healthy forecast for the end of the month. He thought she could do with some good news. Lash’s death had taken its toll on her and though she functioned well enough, she seemed to be missing her spark.
‘Benjamin, I’ve been approached by a wealthy businessman who’d like to invest in the company. He wants to inject a sizable amount of capital in exchange for shares.’
‘Oh, erm, do you… are you considering his proposal?’
‘No, never. I won’t dilute the business but it has got me thinking.’
‘Of dabbling in stocks and shares?’ he asked excitedly. He’d always fancied a go on the stock exchange but not with his own money.
‘No, about the National Savings scheme.’
‘Oh, erm, really?’
‘Yes. There’s a woman on my street who knocks on doors to collect money for savings stamps. Once you’ve got fifteen stamps, you can exchange your card for a savings certificate. The money collected goes to the government to contribute to the cost of the war. She’s got quite a few people involved. Some of the families struggle to put food on the table but they’re still paying into the scheme.’
‘Yes, I… I have seen the posters.’
‘I want you to set up a scheme for every person who works for me, including yourself. But I want the men to be encouraged to not cash their stamps in at the post office. Get them all cards and put two stamps on each a week.’
‘There are more lucrative ways to invest money and with better returns.’
‘Yes, thank you, Benjamin, I’m fully aware of that. But I’m keeping fit and healthy men here, working for me, when they should be off fighting for our freedom. At least paying into the National Savings goes some way to contributing to the costs of bullets for our soldiers. And while you’re at it, you can get them all to drop off any aluminium saucepans they’ve got to Latchmere baths. There’s a woman there collecting them, something to do with metal to build aeroplanes.’
Benjamin tried not to look astonished but his boss never ceased to amaze him. For a hard, violent woman, she’d once again shown her kind heart.
Victor popped his head around the office door and said, ‘Tobias Rowland is here.’
‘Send him in,’ Georgina answered, then said quietly to Benjamin, ‘I wonder what he wants. Probably here to grovel.’
Tobias walked in looking awkward and nervous. Benjamin had heard about what had happened at the pub and was surprised the young man had the audacity to show his face.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Garrett. Thank you for seeing me.’
‘What do you want? If you’ve come to plead for Charlotte to come back, forget it, and anyway, it’s out of my hands. It’s Mrs Mipple you need to talk to.’
‘No, I’ve come to say I’m sorry, and please accept this as a token of my apology.’
Benjamin could see the label of the bottle of brandy that Tobias nervously placed on Georgina’s desk. It was an expensive brand and not one that was likely stocked in the Queen’s Head. Though judging by Georgina’s face, she didn’t seem impressed.
‘Apology accepted but I meant what I said. Stay away from Charlotte.’
‘I will. Thank you, Miss Garrett,’ Tobias said and quickly backed out of the office.
Once the door had closed, Georgina pointed at the bottle and said, ‘Unless you want this, I’ll give it to Dina.’
‘No, but, erm, thank you. I’m sure Dina will appreciate it,’ Benjamin answered, and right on cue, the woman walked in with a tray of coffee.
When Georgina told her to take the brandy for herself, she too looked less than impressed, but then with Dina, it was difficult to gauge how she felt as she rarely showed emotion of any kind.
Benjamin noticed that Georgina began to pack away her things and he covertly looked at his watch. It had just gone two, early for her to be leaving but since Lash had died, she spent more time away from the office. He felt his pulse quicken. He much preferred it when Georgina was around and though Big H was always close by to keep a protective eye over the prostitutes, it wasn’t the same as having his fearless boss by his side.
‘Right, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She walked across the room, her shoulders slumped and without her usual vigour. Benjamin wished there was something he could say or do to make her feel better but he knew grief was a long and personal process. As she went to open the door, it flew open, nearly knocking into her, and Benjamin went to dive under his desk for cover. But then he saw Dina burst into the room, her normally pale skin suffused with bright red.
‘It is poison!’ the woman declared, holding the bottle of brandy aloft.
‘What?’ Georgina asked, looking puzzled.
‘You are trying to kill me, no?’
‘No, Dina. Of course I’m not.’
‘But you give me poison to drink?’
‘No… are you saying that the brandy has been poisoned?’
‘YES! Smell it…’ she answered, and shoved the bottle towards Georgina’s face.
‘I can’t smell anything.’
‘It is bitter and burns my tongue, like it is on fire. I… I…’
‘Perhaps it’s just a bad bottle,’ Georgina said but then quickly jumped back as Dina uncontrollably vomited.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Benjamin muttered and bravely ran towards Dina who now looked extremely poorly.
The Russian woman fell to the floor, her body trembling. ‘My head,’ she moaned, ‘hurts. Can… not… breathe…’
Benjamin noticed Dina’s vomit was frothy and he could see traces of blood. The sight of it made his guts heave but Georgina was shouting at him.
‘Call an ambulance. Quick.’
He stood hopelessly watching as Dina gasped for breath.
‘Benjamin! Call for an ambulance,’ Georgina repeated, this time spurring him into action.
Moments later, as he replaced the telephone receiver, he prayed Dina would survive. If she didn’t, he could see the woman was going to endure a torturous death. And to his horror, he realised if he’d accepted the bottle, it could have been him lying on the floor in agony and fighting for his life.
As the minutes ticked by, Dina’s health seemed to be rapidly diminishing and he doubted she’d survive until the ambulance arrived. He took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose, saying firmly, ‘Victor, drive her to the hospital otherwise she won’t make it.’
Georgina looked at him, her eyes wide. ‘Yes, good idea,’ she said, and Victor scooped Dina into his arms.
Benjamin had never seen his boss look so afraid or as helpless. But as she opened the door for Victor, a dark look descended on her face and she said gravely, ‘Tobias Rowland did this. Get Johnny on the telephone and tell him to pick Tobias up and bring him here.’
Benjamin nodded. He’d already worked out that the young man was behind this but he found it difficult to believe that Tobias would have orchestrated it himself. He thought using poison was far too sophisticated for someone like him. No, he must have been put up to it. And he knew Georgina would get the truth out of the young man, one way or another.
14
Georgina drained her fourth coffee of the day. Her body ached with exhaustion and coffee seemed to be the only thing keeping her going. She could have done without the added drama of Tobias and the concern for Dina’s health. But none of it touched her, not emotionally. Nothing gave her any feelings of happiness, hope or even pain. She’d bu
ilt an impenetrable wall of defence around her heart and now all she could think of was the death of Kevin Kelly. It overshadowed every minute of every day and kept her awake at night.
‘Erm, David Maynard’s car has just pulled up,’ Benjamin said.
Georgina looked behind her and out of the window. And sure enough, David was climbing out of the back of his car. Her mood dropped lower. He was the last person she wanted to see. Though she knew he hadn’t been the man to shoot Lash, she still felt guilty over the way she’d behaved with him and was locked in a battle with herself.
Victor showed him in and Benjamin made a polite excuse to leave.
‘Hello, Georgina. You haven’t been to see me for a while so I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this.’
‘I’ve had other things on my mind, you know, like who killed my husband.’
‘Yes, of course, I gathered that. But life continues and there’s business to be done.’
‘Do you think I don’t realise that? What do you think I’m doing here in my office?’ she snapped.
‘Whoa, easy. I didn’t mean to offend.’
Georgina sighed heavily. ‘Sorry. I just feel I’m living on a knife’s edge at the moment. Let’s start again. Can I get you a drink?’
‘No, I won’t stay long. I only came to see for myself that you’re all right.’
‘I’m fine and I’m not your responsibility to worry about.’
‘Well, you are to some extent. I like to look after my friends.’
Georgina lowered her eyes away from his smile. Yes, regardless of how guilty she felt, they were friends and she felt awful for thinking he could have killed Lash.
‘I don’t suppose I could tempt you to dinner?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t eat. I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight and I can’t grieve. Christ, I can just about breathe. I can’t do anything that resembles normal until I know that the murdering bastard who killed my husband has had all the blood drained from his body.’