by Sam Michaels
‘Oh dear, I can imagine how Cyril’s wife must be feeling.’
‘Yes, me too but I’ve made sure she’s getting a good pay-out. Trouble is, I can’t give her his body to bury, not with a bullet in his head.’
Molly tried to block out the last of the conversation between Dulcie and Georgina. She found the subject matter far too upsetting and the way they casually discussed corpses unnerved her.
‘I’d better get over to David Maynard before he pops a blood vessel and then I’m going to join Lash’s family up to Liverpool.’
‘But they told you to sit tight and they’d bring Lash to you,’ Dulcie reminded Georgina.
‘Yes, I know, Gran, but I can’t sit here twiddling me thumbs. I need to do this.’
‘I don’t think you should,’ Molly offered. ‘Let them do it their way.’
Dulcie spoke again, ‘You don’t like not being in control, ain’t that right, love?’
‘I just want to make sure they get Lash.’
‘They’ve said they will, so do as you’ve been told. I know it goes against the grain for you, but they’ll have their own way of doing things and won’t thank you for interfering.’
‘I get that, Gran, but I’m only planning on tagging along.’
‘No, Georgina. I’m putting my foot down now. You’ll do as you’ve been told… for once.’
Molly’s heart began to race as she waited for an explosive response from Georgina but her friend just nodded instead. It had been a long time since she’d seen Georgina so meek. She’d dropped her tough persona and Molly saw tears begin to well in her violet eyes. It was rare for her to cry. Molly could only recall one occasion and that had been after Georgina had been abused in a police station. Even then, her tears had been short-lived and quickly replaced with anger.
Molly went to her friend and pulled her close. As she wrapped her arms around Georgina, she felt her body stiffen. ‘It’ll be all right. They’ll bring him home,’ she said soothingly.
Georgina stepped back. ‘Thanks,’ she replied to Molly, her face hard again. ‘But I don’t need tea and sympathy yet. Lash is not dead. I know he’s not dead. It sounds stupid but I’d know if he was. I’d feel it.’
Dulcie sat on the edge of her chair. ‘Good girl. No need for weeping. Let the gypsies get on with doing their business and you concentrate on sorting out your own. Get yourself orf to that Maynard fella and see what he wants. Then, when you’ve done that, you can deal with that bloody Russian thing. Don’t you let her get away with killing Cyril. He didn’t deserve it.’
Georgina drew in a deep breath and held her head high. ‘You’re right, I’ve got work to do and Lash will be home soon.’
Georgina left and Molly flopped back onto the sofa, deep in thought. She hoped Jane would be well enough to leave hospital soon. As soon as Jane was released, Molly planned on leaving. She was glad she’d stayed until now, to be here when her friend needed her, but she didn’t want to stay a minute longer than she had to. She loved Georgina but not the Wilcox business and her friend was too deeply entrenched in it now. Her dear sister, Ethel, had lost her young life and now Lash’s was in danger. Who next? thought Molly.
She had to get away from this world of crooks, murderers and madmen. It was the only way she could protect her son.
*
‘What do you think then?’ Frank asked as he drained the last of his whisky.
‘I ain’t sure I’m ready,’ Mickey replied.
They were sat in Frank’s front room enjoying a late Sunday afternoon tipple with full stomachs after a roast dinner.
‘We can’t keep holding back, Mickey. She’s going from strength to strength. From what I’ve heard, her gypo husband is in a bit of bother with the Portland Pounders. I don’t know if it’s related, but the gypsies arrived on Friday night and now they’ve buggered off again. I’ve never known them to set off so quickly. Something’s going down, I’m sure of it. But you know what that lot are like. They don’t trust us coppers. We can’t get close.’
‘He lost the fight then?’
‘Yes. That’s why I reckon we should act now. She’s distracted. It’s perfect timing.’
Mickey took a large swig of his drink. Him and Frank had always planned on expanding the Wilcox business, swallowing up David Maynard’s and then working their way North, but Georgina Garrett had come along and stopped them in their tracks. Since then, Frank had kept close to her, sure that one day he and Mickey would get the opportunity to claim back what was already theirs. And now Frank seemed convinced that the time was right.
Mickey wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t bothered about the business. He couldn’t care a less about taking over the Maynards. He just wanted out of this life and to take Georgina with him. But he knew he couldn’t do it alone so went along with Frank’s plans, for now. ‘Have you managed to convince any of the blokes to come on side?’
‘Knuckles is keen. He’s not happy working for Maynard and wants to be back in Battersea. He’s dropping by next week. I think he wants to see with his own eyes that you’re alive and kicking.’
‘Alive, yes but kicking is stretching it a bit.’
‘And Stephen. He walked out when Garrett took over. Said he’d never work for a woman. He’s been doing a bit of work here and there to get by but he can’t wait to join us. He laughed when I told him. Apparently he predicted this and told her so. When he left, he warned her she wouldn’t last and he’d soon have his job back.’
‘Huh, he weren’t wrong,’ Mickey said, faking a chuckle.
‘Willy West won’t go nowhere near, not after what that Russian tart did to him. But he said his son is up for it. He hates the bitch and reckons he could get his two brothers on board too.’
‘That’s a good start, Frank. But we’ll need a lot more manpower.’
‘I’m working on it but we’ve got enough for a takeover and then once we’re back in the seat, the rest of the men will follow. They’re not going to have any loyalty to a woman boss. I think they’ve got more self-respect than to answer to a tart.’
‘Even Johnny Dymond?’
‘No, he’s gone soft in the head, but fuck him, Mickey. He can die with the bitch.’
Frank took their glasses into the kitchen and came back with them refilled. ‘Cheers, to us. I’ll get the blokes together and we’ll put our plans into action. Two weeks, I think. Two weeks and then you’ll be sat back at your desk and the world, as they say, will be our oyster.’
‘Yeah, cheers,’ Mickey said and raised his glass but he’d never liked oysters. He’d seen Billy Wilcox eat them once and thought they looked like giant bogies. No, oysters weren’t for him and neither was the Wilcox business. Not anymore. His dreams had been shattered along with his spine and now the only thought that gave him any pleasure was his own death. And Georgina Garrett’s.
As Frank chatted on about how they’d execute the takeover, Mickey’s mind wandered to his own plans. Knuckles was coming to see him. That was perfect. He knew the man was stupid and easily manipulated. Frank didn’t realise but he’d just given Mickey everything he needed on a plate.
He smiled as he pictured the scene of his own death in his head and killing Georgina Garrett would be the last thing he’d ever do.
*
Later that evening, Georgina arrived home, exhausted. She’d managed to catch a couple of hours’ sleep in the back of the car on the return from Liverpool, but it had been punctured with images of Lash being beaten. Since then she’d been on the go all day and the thought of going to bed alone tonight terrified her.
‘Hello, love. How did it go?’ her gran asked.
‘Actually, David was very sympathetic. He appreciated me taking it on the chin and not bringing his name into it.’
‘I should think so to! Did he offer you the diamonds?’
‘No. He said he would have sold them to me if he had them but they’ve already been shifted.’
‘That’s convenient for him. So he gets off scot-free with
robbing the Pounders and quids in whilst you’re left to deal with them.’
‘Yep, that’s pretty much it.’
‘Do you believe he’s sold them?’
‘I dunno, Gran. Possibly. I doubt it though. I can’t see him getting rid of them so quickly, not while they’re hot. There’s too much interest in them. I don’t think anyone would touch them yet, not even Ezzy.’
‘You’ve been a long time, what kept you?’
‘He insisted on taking me for dinner. He said I looked like I needed it. To be honest, Gran, I hadn’t even thought about food.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you had, but you’ve got to look after yourself.’
Georgina nodded, her mind void of any thought for herself.
‘Molly and Oppo waited but I told them to get off home. They said they’d call back in tomorrow.’
‘And what about my dad? Please don’t tell me he’s in the pub.’
‘No, love. He’s… he’s gawn orf with Lash’s family.’
‘What?’
‘He wanted to help. He’s done the right thing and it’s about time he started behaving like your father again.’
Georgina dropped onto the sofa, surprised but also appreciative of her dad’s intervention. She understood that she couldn’t have gone with the family. It was difficult enough to be a woman in charge in her world, but impossible in Lash’s. Her dad riding alongside them was the next best thing.
‘Why don’t you try and get some rest, love?’
Georgina wanted to. She really did, but was put off by the thought of what she’d see when she closed her eyes. ‘I’ll just sit here, Gran,’ she answered and watched the hands of the clock slowly turn.
It was going to be a long night. Georgina’s eyes felt heavy and the hand of the clock had hardly moved. She was vaguely aware of her gran putting a blanket over her.
‘Rest now, child,’ she heard her gran say over the imagined cries of Lash, and she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.
28
Benjamin was surprised when Georgina had decided to go ahead with the usual Monday morning meeting with all the men. Johnny had offered to cancel for her but she insisted on business as usual. So, as the men began to arrive, Benjamin warned Varvara to expect some flak. Cyril had been a popular old man and Benjamin guessed word had already spread that she’d killed him. They wouldn’t be happy about it and he thought they might even demand retribution from Georgina.
Benjamin looked up from his desk. The office had filled and he could feel the tense atmosphere. Some of the men were looking daggers at Varvara but she didn’t seem concerned as she stood behind Georgina’s desk, looking disdainfully back at them.
‘I’ll keep this brief today. You all know the situation with the Portland Pounders. Rest assured the matter is in hand and Lash will be returning to us today. Any questions?’
No-one spoke. Benjamin thought they were probably all glad they hadn’t been roped in to help. No-one would want to willingly deal with the Pounders, especially working against them.
‘Right, next on the agenda. The Maynards have a large shipment of silk coming in. Most of it will be unloaded on Commercial Street, not our patch, but there’s plenty available so if you’ve got any buyers in the dress or scarf making industry, put in an order with Mr Harel. Obviously it’s cheap ’cos it’s nicked so be careful who you speak to. Moving on, I’ve heard Wayne is back and heading up the Vauxhall mob. So far, he’s kept himself to himself but I expect he’ll soon be pushing the boundaries. I want any sightings of him or his lot in Battersea reported straight back to me.
‘And lastly, someone turned over the post office cart near the Latchmere baths. The police don’t have any leads. I want to know who did this! Find them and bring them in. And when you’re looking for them, put out a reminder that no jobs over the limit are to be done without my permission. You all know the limit and I want it known that it’s only breached if I give it the go-ahead. And I take a cut. That’s it, we’re done.’
‘What about Cyril?’ one of the Barker twins asked and the other added, ‘Ain’t you gonna mention him?’
‘Yeah, that fucking tart done him in,’ Ned shouted.
Benjamin could see the men were agitated and hoped Georgina could calm them.
‘Cyril broke the rules and cost the business a lot of money,’ she said.
‘Come off it, Miss Garrett. He’s always taken dodgy bets, everyone knows it.’
‘Yes, and I let him get away with it, but he got greedy and went too far.’
Benjamin couldn’t see who shouted next but he heard a man call from the back, ‘That don’t warrant that fucking whore murdering him!’
‘Are you gonna let her get away with it?’ Ned asked.
‘She needs stringing up,’ the Barker twins said in unison.
‘Do you lot think you’re running the show now?’ Georgina snapped and glared at them.
‘No, Miss Garrett, but what she did ain’t right,’ Ned answered.
‘I’m dealing with it, and how is none of your business. So I suggest you keep your mouths shut and your opinions to yourselves. Got it?’
Benjamin inwardly cringed. He didn’t think Georgina was handling the edgy situation well but it wasn’t any wonder considering she had the worry of Lash on her mind.
‘It don’t look like you’re dealing with it. Look at her, stood there with that smug fucking look on her face,’ Ned said.
Then her father’s friend spoke. ‘And where’s old Cyril? In the cellar with Mr Wilcox? He should have had a proper burial.’
‘If any of you think you can do a better job than me, come and have a go. Fill your boots. Anyone?’
The men looked at one another and then her father’s friend spoke again. ‘No, Miss Garrett. We weren’t sure about you at first but you’re all right, you are. We ain’t never been so well off and you’re fair, which is more than can be said for Billy or Mickey. But ’cos you’re fair, we don’t understand why you’re letting that Russian bit get away with what she did. That’s all. We just wanna know when you’re gonna deal with it.’
Georgina hung her head and when she looked back up, her face had softened. ‘I realise I haven’t been here long but have I ever let you down?’
A unanimous, ‘No,’ echoed through the room.
‘And I won’t this time. I give you my word. Now, bugger off back to work. I’ve got more important things to be doing than stood here listening to you whinging bastards.’
This time, Benjamin saw a glimmer of a smile on her face and the men responded favourably. She’d won them over but she still had to be seen to punish Varvara and Benjamin pondered what action she’d take. He’d come to learn that in this criminal environment, life was cheap and could be taken away with a single thoughtless bullet. Varvara may look smug now but Benjamin thought she may die with that look forever frozen on her face.
*
Varvara had stood her ground and hadn’t shown any regret for her actions. As far as she was concerned, Cyril had wronged Miss Garrett and she’d seen to his punishment. Even Mr Maynard had implied that Cyril should die. Admittedly, Georgina hadn’t seemed pleased but Varvara assumed her angst was due to Lash being held by the Liverpool gang.
This information had pleased Varvara. She didn’t like to see Georgina suffering but if the Portland Pounders killed Lash, she felt sure Georgina would get over it. After all, he was only a man. There were plenty more of them available to Georgina, many better than Lash and more suited to her boss’s stature. Georgina may not realise it yet but Varvara thought she’d be better rid of her contemptible husband.
The office emptied and Varvara offered to fetch coffee. Miss Garrett ignored her. This hurt Varvara. Couldn’t the woman see that she’d done what was needed? She’d killed the old man for her. She’d do anything for Georgina, anything at all. But now Varvara felt she was being repaid with disapproval. She hadn’t wanted thanks or gratitude. Just acknowledgement. But it seemed Miss Garrett’s di
sapproval was going to be extended to a punishment, if only to keep the rest of the disgusting men quiet. It wasn’t fair but if her boss felt she deserved to be punished, then Varvara would readily accept whatever was thrown at her. At the end of the day, it couldn’t be any worse that what Billy Wilcox had done to her when he’d cut off her finger. Yes, Miss Garrett was strong but Varvara didn’t believe she was cruel.
Just then, Victor showed in PC Cunningham. Ha, Varvara thought, if anyone looked smug, it was him, flicking off a piece of fluff from his immaculate uniform and pulling out a chair as though he owned the place.
‘Good day, Miss Garrett. I trust you are well?’
Varvara couldn’t see Georgina’s face but she imagined it would be adorned with a smile that didn’t reach her beautiful eyes.
‘I hear you’ve had a bit of bother with the Pounders?’ he continued.
‘It’s in hand,’ Georgina answered.
‘The gypsies have gone to get back one of their own, have they?’
‘As I said, it’s in hand.’
‘You won’t be requiring my assistance then?’
‘No, well, not on that matter but there is something I’d like to discuss with you.’
‘Fire away,’ PC Cunningham said and then laughed to himself. ‘That’s probably the wrong thing to say to you, isn’t it?’
God, Varvara found him maddening. He wasn’t funny and asked so many questions. But she was interested to hear what Georgina wanted to discuss with him.
‘I have a very reliable source who’s informed me that a hitman from Portsmouth is in the area and I’m his target. I’m not sure who he’s working for, yet, but I’ve had eyes on him.’
‘It’s always a risk in your line of work. There’ll always be someone wanting to have a pop at you. You know who this hitman is?’
‘Yes. Oliver Reading. He’s unlike any hitman I’ve ever heard of. This man’s got class. He’s been seen at the opera and partaking in tea at the Doncaster. My sources tell me that he’s worked in America with the Mafia, and I won’t, but I could name at least one very well-known target he’s hit. I don’t know why he’s taken on the job to kill the likes of me, but he has.’