From behind the tears, Eddie pleaded with Tony. ‘I don’t know anything about ledgers, Tony, I swear to God I don’t.’
‘But you’re family,’ Tony mocked. ‘He’d tell you before Boxer bloody Davis and if Boxer bloody Davis knows, then it stands to reason you know.’
‘I don’t! On my life, I don’t. Harry never told me anything. I was just bigging myself up Tony, you know how it is. Harry had it all and I had... well, this shithole. Me and Harry weren’t close; he didn’t even like me. He told me nothing, I swear.’
Tony raised his hand to scratch his own forehead and Eddie flinched so hard he almost fell off the floor.
‘Please don’t hit me again!’ Eddie screamed.
‘Be quiet, you Jessie.’ As Tony ramped up the menace, Eddie kept his hands high, protecting his face, nodding or shaking his head in response.
‘Harry had it all, did he?’ demanded Tony. ‘Well, now I’ve got it all, understand? Me and my brother. And whether Harry’s alive or dead makes no fucking difference to us, cos he’s nothing anymore. Which clearly makes you less than nothing. Agreed?’ Tony put his hand gently on the side of Eddie’s face. ‘So, you keep your ear to the ground...’ Tony slammed Eddie’s face hard into the fiberboard flooring ‘...and you let me know if you hear anything from Boxer Davis or if you hear anything about Harry’s ledgers.’ Tony tapped his hand hard on Eddie’s cheek a couple of times and got up.
Eddie daren’t move. He lay on the filthy floor, crying silently, eyes screwed tight shut, waiting for a boot in the face. He only opened his eyes when he heard Tony’s car start up and drive away. He scrambled to his feet, holding his aching head and his smashed nose, and looked out of the window to make absolutely certain that Tony had gone. Then he picked up the phone.
In a small hovel of a flat in Portobello Road, the phone was answered by Bill Grant. Bill listened as Eddie, in a trembling, high-pitched voice, poured out everything that had just happened. Eventually, Bill couldn’t take any more.
‘Shut your stupid mouth, Eddie. What did you tell him?’ Bill demanded.
‘I told him nothing. It’s all coming from Boxer Davis.’ Eddie said.
‘And where’s he?’
Eddie paused and closed his eyes because he knew for sure that he was about to put Boxer in harm’s way. Bill Grant was worse than Tony. Bill Grant was a truly hard bastard who killed people for a living in whatever way you wanted — slow, fast, he didn’t care. His real skill was that he was way more subtle than Tony, which is why hardly anyone knew he was back. Bill wasn’t showy; he knew how to lay low and keep under the radar. He didn’t look like much, but by God he was trouble; he had nothing and no one so he had nothing to lose — and that made him one of the most dangerous men Eddie had ever come across. Bill had just got out after a twelve stretch, but he was right back in the thick of things. Eddie opened his eyes as Bill repeated his question.
‘Where’s Boxer Davis?’
As he hung his head in shame, Eddie told himself that the state of Boxer’s face was nowhere near as important as the state of his own.
Chapter 13
The three women were all busy in the lock-up. Shirley was in the corner sorting out two pairs of dark-blue overalls she’d bought, carefully cutting out the labels and dropping them in a bin so that they could be burned later. Bella and Linda were re-spraying a Ford Escort van white. Both women wore face masks, as the paint spray had an acrid stink and had made Linda’s eyes red-rimmed. Their own dark-blue boiler suits were now as white as the van they were spraying.
‘I dunno about you, Bella, but I’m knackered. I think we done enough for now. It’s got to dry out before another coat,’ said Linda.
Bella nodded and continued finishing a section before she disconnected the spray and pulled off her mask. ‘You reckon she’s gonna turn up tonight and bring us some cash?’ Bella was reluctant to ask really, but she’d given up some shifts at the club to be here; she needed to know if it was going to be worth her while.
Linda shrugged her shoulders. ‘I hope so! The spray paint weren’t cheap and we been here for hours now. What you reckon, Shirley?’
‘I’ve been out shopping for all this gear and run out of funds, so I bleedin’ hope so too.’
Bella sat on one of the orange boxes, pulling off her thick rubber gloves. ‘You know we should talk about this, just us three. Linda, you said we’re going along with Dolly for the handouts, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore, does it? She could be half crazy with grief and not know what she’s doing, or she could actually be planning a flaming robbery.’
‘I agree.’ Shirley said. ‘Why waste her money on us and all the gear if she’s not telling the truth?’
‘If this was for real, we’d make millions’ Bella said. She seemed genuinely excited.
‘One million,’ Shirley corrected. ‘Split four ways.’
Bella’s sarcasm rose to the surface. ‘Oh, well, let’s forget it and go home, then! Who wants to do all this work for a poxy quarter of a million?’ After a short pause, they all laughed. Bella continued, ‘All I’m saying is this: Dolly reckons it’s all planned out and all we’ve gotta do is actually pull it off. Personally, I look around this lock-up at what we’ve achieved and I’m all fired up.’
Shirley smiled shyly at Linda as she too allowed herself to contemplate the idea of actually completing the robbery, grabbing £250,000 each and never having to worry again. Now Bella had brought it out into the open, it sounded far more exciting.
Linda was, as always, the more practical voice of reason. ‘If the lazy old mare was here, we could ask her straight. Truth is, she’s not been around for days. We’ve all been playing make-believe and we’re all out of cash. Now, maybe she has got it all planned and we’re all going to be rich — or maybe her little breakdown is over and she’s forgot to tell us. She could be sitting at home right now in her ivory tower, with a whisky in her hand and that mutt on her knee.’
‘You got no faith, Linda.’ Bella said, shaking her head. ‘People can surprise you if you just let them.’
‘Yeah? Well, I ain’t been surprised by no one in a long time. I’ve had enough, I’m going home.’
As Linda headed for the door, Shirley tossed a match into the bin to burn the labels she’d cut from the overalls. There was a sudden whoosh as a large flame shot upward. Shirley jumped back screaming as it singed her hair.
‘Jesus Christ, Shirl!’ Bella shouted. ‘What did you put on them?’
‘Half a bottle of turps!’
They started laughing again, but Linda held up her hand as they heard the bark of the Alsatian in the lock-up next door.
‘Here she is,’ said Bella. ‘Here’s our leader.’
Linda, closest to the door, was frozen to the spot. ‘No heels. And no Wolf,’ she whispered. Bella and Shirley looked round for somewhere to hide, but it was too late. The door squeaked open and a man in a Barbour coat and flat cap stepped in. Shirley let out a squeal and shot up, frightened out of her wits, Bella picked up a crow bar and Linda shouted: ‘Who the effing hell are you?’
Dolly pulled off the cap. ‘Glad I can pass for a bloke,’ she said, looking very pleased with herself. ‘Sorry about not being in contact. I still got a bleedin’ squad car parked in front of me house. They been watching me day and night. Put the kettle on, Linda, I’m parched. I’ve been leaping over back garden fences, which isn’t easy in Harry’s shoes, I can tell you. They’re really heavy.’