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‘I had a shower this morning and got soap in me eyes. When I tried to grab a towel from the hook on the door I picked up his dressing gown instead. I could smell him, I could still smell his body, it was as if he was right there with me again, but it was just his dressing gown...’ Linda broke down and sobbed.

Shirley’s mouth twitched as she felt the tears welling up in her, and the next minute she too was sobbing, thinking of all the things in her flat that reminded her of Terry.

When Dolly re-entered she found the pair of them in floods of tears, hugging each other. Dolly tried to keep herself in check, but then she started crying too. This was the first time Dolly had cried properly in front of anyone, but she didn’t care. It seemed OK to share her grief with the other widows; she wasn’t embarrassed or worried that they’d see her as weak. She instinctively trusted them, and this was a momentous thing for Dolly to do with anyone. Trust. This is what she needed.

The tension eased and Dolly started the conversation again.

‘When I asked you here, I wasn’t sure how much I was going to say. But now I am. We’ve got two options regarding Harry’s ledgers—’

‘We?’ Linda interrupted. At Dolly’s slight smile she quieted down and began to listen.

‘Harry planned jobs months in advance, all written down, so if the Fishers got their hands on the ledgers, they could stay on top. Just like Harry did. So, option one is that we sell the ledgers to the Fishers and they would offer us a percentage of anything they make. Or option two, if we don’t sell—’ Dolly took a deep breath as Shirley and Linda leaned in closer — ‘we pull the job Harry had lined up.’

Linda started to laugh hysterically. Shirley sat with her mouth open.

‘You are joking?’ Linda stuttered.

‘If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. But I can’t do it on my own, so I’d have to sell and the Fishers are cheap double-crossing villains and will no doubt stitch me up.’

‘We can’t do an armed robbery, Dolly,’ Shirley whispered.

‘Yes, we can. We can finish what our men started. It was a good plan that would have worked if they hadn’t used explosives.’

Linda and Shirley glanced at each other, not knowing how to respond. Was Dolly mad? Had grief tipped her over the edge?

Dolly continued, slowly and calmly, ‘I could have sold the ledgers without telling you and avoided a three-way split, but I want to do right by you as Harry always did right by Joe and Terry. And this job is right.’ Dolly hit them with her killer blow. ‘If you don’t want to do it, I understand. I’ll do my best to get a couple of grand each for us off the Fishers. Then they can do the job Harry was planning and pocket the million quid.’

‘A million quid?’ Shirley shouted before slamming her hand over her mouth.

Linda, streetwise and sharp as a tack, knew that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. She was married to Joe long enough to realize that a million-quid job would be dangerous. She smiled and shook her head. ‘Do us a favor, Mrs. Rawlins. What do you take us for, a pair of mugs?’

‘Far from it,’ said Dolly. ‘We’re more similar than we are different, Linda. I know what you’re feeling inside right now and I know how to make that better. One last job. For our men, yes. But for us, more. This is your ticket out of struggling in shooting galleries for less than half you’re worth, and you—’ Dolly said, looking at Shirley — ‘you’d never have to work a day in your life.’

A panicked Shirley piped up, ‘I don’t want to leave London.’

‘You won’t have to, love. No one will know it’s us. I know exactly what to do.’

Dolly could see Shirley and Linda faltering, so pushed them a little closer to the decision she wanted. ‘You think your Terry and your Joe left you with nothing? They didn’t. They left you with me. Me, the ledgers and their next job. We were never just the little women sitting at home. We know what they did. We know why they did it. Harry led me to his ledgers for a reason — and that reason is us. He didn’t want us to be alone and he didn’t want us to struggle. We deserve this, ladies.’ Dolly stood up. ‘Just think about it. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think we could do it. And I’ll pay all your outgoings before the job in ready cash.’

Linda and Shirley sat open-mouthed and mute. Dolly could almost hear the cogs turning as they weighed up their options.

‘I’ll contact you again in two days,’ she said. ‘Don’t try and get in touch with me. I’m being watched by the old bill and they might have my phone tapped. They’re the reason I didn’t turn up here at the same time as you. I don’t want us seen together, so make sure you leave separately, and at least twenty minutes after me.’

And she was gone.

Linda and Shirley sat in exactly the same position, wearing exactly the same vacant facial expressions, for what seemed like ten minutes. Then Linda spoke.

‘She’s off her trolley.’

‘Should we tell someone?’

‘No one would believe us.’

Chapter 8

Dolly had been driving around for ages, to West London and back, trying to lose the plain-clothes officers in their unmarked car, but they were still on her tail. ‘Damn you!’ she shouted out loud as she looked again in her rearview mirror. No matter how many turns or side roads she took, she just couldn’t lose them. When she’d called a couple of days after the spa, both Linda and Shirley had agreed to meet up and hear more. And now all three of them had planned to get together. Dolly didn’t want to be late — but what could she do? Unless she was 100 percent certain that she wasn’t being followed, she simply couldn’t risk meeting or contacting the other widows in any way.

Dolly remembered a film she’d once seen and smiled to herself wondering if maybe, just maybe, the same ruse would work for her. She started to accelerate and sped round Shepherd’s Bush roundabout, then headed along Notting Hill Gate, straight down Bayswater Road toward Marble Arch. They were still there, still behind her. She zipped in and out of the line of traffic, then took a right turn toward Hyde Park, keeping in the inside lane. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she could see the police tail about four cars behind. She overtook a heavy goods vehicle that was on her inside, then nipped in front of it and turned sharply into the drop-off entrance of the Dorchester Hotel. She was out of her car in seconds with Wolf under her arm. She handed the doorman the keys and a £10 note.

‘Park it, darlin’. Be back in an hour or so after dinner.’ And she whisked into the Dorchester.

The doorman went over to the Merc, got into the driver’s seat and was about to start the engine when he saw a blue flashing light in the front grill of the car behind him. DC Andrews jumped out of the still-moving police car, ran over to the Merc, pulled open the door and grabbed the doorman by his lapel. ‘Where did she go? Which way?’ Terrified, the doorman just pointed to the hotel entrance.

Andrews ran inside the lobby and began frantically looking around for Dolly, but she was nowhere to be seen. And no one, even the receptionist, had noticed her. He was in for another bollocking from Resnick, who was still pissed off about the hamburger incident.

Andrews got back in his car, slammed the door and found a parking spot. He was hoping beyond hope that Dolly was simply in the hotel somewhere, so he decided to stay with her car. It’s all he could do.

Linda had arrived at the Liverpool Street railway arches fifteen minutes early. It was bitterly cold and she was freezing. She hadn’t realized the area would be so dark, and hadn’t brought a torch, so was having difficulty in finding lock-up number fifteen. She’d not been surprised when Dolly called; agreeing to meet up with her and Shirley again was an easy decision. What else did she have to get her heart racing these days? Since Joe’s death, Linda’s life had been horrible, truly horrible. The half-empty bed was impossible to get used to, the people who came into her arcade disgusted her and the police treated her like shit on their shoe. Above all, life was boring as hell — and Linda hated boring. Whatever Dolly thought she was doing, Linda was happy to tag along, catch up with Shirl every now and then, and maybe make a bit of money out of Dolly along the way.