‘You sure the filth didn’t find the money?’ Harry said, leaning over the table toward Eddie.
Eddie gulped. ‘I’m almost certain, Harry,’ he said in a shaky voice, ‘they wasn’t there that long before they put Dolly in the patrol car and left. She was givin’ ’em a right mouthful and not one of them was carrying any holdalls. In fact, they wasn’t carrying anything at all.’
Harry crossed to the window, stubbed his cigarette out between his fingers then flicked it toward the sink. It fell short and landed on the floor. He leaned his head against the cold window and clenched his fists. He felt incredibly frustrated. He was used to being in control, total control. As the cold glass cooled his temper, his cheek muscled jumped. Robbery was a man’s game and the fact that Dolly seemed to have pulled it off and got away with it infuriated him. All he wanted to do now was get the money and disappear. It wasn’t her money, it was his — his plans, his ledgers, his contacts, his brains... and she was taking all the credit. A grin crept over his face. He couldn’t help but admire her balls. He knew that she’d be running on pure adrenalin right now, and he hoped she knew how to control it. Harry, head still on the glass, laughed out loud. Shirley fucking Miller, he thought to himself. And it made sense, therefore, that Linda Pirelli was also involved. Unbelievable. Then he spoke out loud.
‘Women, eh, Eddie?’
Eddie had no idea what Harry was referring to, so opted to laugh quietly and cautiously.
Harry turned to Eddie and perched on the windowsill. His voice was quiet, as if he was mulling things over to himself. ‘The Old Bill must have searched the house. If she was yappy with ’em, it sounds like she’s already hidden the cash somewhere. Even if she ain’t, she’ll soon find out from the blonde who scalded you that someone’s looking for the money... You really fucked up, Eddie.’
Suddenly Harry moved across the room and punched Eddie hard in the nose. He fell off his chair and onto the floor with a cry of pain. Harry stood over him like a towering, menacing giant. Eddie braced himself for a beating, but thankfully it didn’t come. He sighed with relief as Harry returned to looking out of the window. His nose was throbbing and when he wiped it on his sleeve and saw the blood he thought it might be broken.
‘Get Bill. And watch Dolly like a hawk, 24/7,’ Harry ordered. ‘Don’t lose sight of her.’
‘Shall we wait till she goes out and then search the place?’ Eddie suggested.
Harry spun round. ‘Is that what I said? Did I say “search the house,” Eddie? Did I?’
Eddie bowed his head and shut his mouth.
‘You watch her. You follow her. She’s done this by the book so far — my book — so I know what she’ll be doing next. She’ll need to launder the money. There’re contacts in the ledgers that she might use. She’ll only do this when she’s sure it’s safe, cos she’ll need to have the money out in the open. That’s when we pounce. If she doesn’t make a move soon, then I’m gonna pay her a visit.’ Harry had a nasty glint in his eyes.
‘But she thinks you’re dead, Harry!’
Harry smiled. ‘Well, she’s in for a surprise, then, isn’t she? Now get out, go on — out.’
Eddie crossed to the door, frightened at what Harry might be capable of. ‘I don’t want to hurt her, Harry, not Dolly. I couldn’t. I feel bad enough about the bleedin’ dog, but a person. And a woman—’
Harry interrupted Eddie. ‘What about the dog?’
Eddie froze, wishing he’d never opened his big mouth. ‘When the blonde went for me,’ he stuttered, ‘I... I’m not sure but I think I might have stood on it. It bit me and she was scratching me face; I punched out at her and I kicked out at... well, it was all yap-yap-yapping and then it wasn’t.’
Harry’s look of hatred made Eddie back out of the living room. When he’d cleared the doorway, he turned to run, but, quick as a flash, Harry had grabbed the scruff of his neck, spun him round and slammed him up against the wall.
‘I could kill you, you pathetic worm of a man,’ Harry snarled in Eddie’s face. ‘You can’t kill Boxer Davis, but you can kill a poodle. That sums you up, Eddie. Just you remember this — you’re the one who led Boxer to that alley, you’re the one who put him in front of Bill’s car. If Dolly makes a mistake now cos of losing that dog and things start to go wrong, you’re the one going down for Boxer.’
Eddie was terrified. Why the hell was Harry being so threatening? ‘It’s only a dog,’ Eddie whispered.
Harry landed one solid punch to Eddie’s gut. ‘She’s grieving now cos of you,’ hissed Harry. ‘And grieving people make mistakes.’ He pushed Eddie so hard out of the door he tripped over his own feet and toppled backward onto his backside. Harry looked at him with disgust. ‘Get Bill. Watch Dolly. Nothing more.’ And he slammed the door.
Clutching his head in his hands, Harry paced the living room, struggling with a whirlwind of emotions. He hated Dolly for succeeding where he’d failed. He wanted to snatch it all away from her to show her who was boss — but, my God, if Wolf was really dead! The idea of pulling the rug from underneath Dolly when she was on a high, flooded with adrenalin, didn’t faze Harry one little bit. She was strong. She’d recover. But snatching her defeat from the jaws of victory if she’d really just lost her baby, well... he couldn’t handle the guilt, and that was why he wanted to kill Eddie.
Harry had known before his botched robbery that he was going to leave Dolly, which was why he couldn’t have cared less about giving his watch away to Jimmy Nunn. His plans were always to go to Spain with Trudie and the baby and stay away for good, but to do that he needed money, lots of money. As he’d driven away from the inferno in the Strand tunnel on that fateful day, he had had no idea what he was going to do next. Dolly going half mad with grief at losing him, then stepping up to the plate and pulling off his robbery, was his saving grace. Now all he had to do was get the money.
Trudie came back into the lounge. ‘What you hit him for?’ she asked.
Harry ignored her and walked into the bedroom. She followed.
‘You shouldn’t push him too far, you know,’ she said. ‘What if he turns on you and blabs to Dolly, what d’ya think she’ll do then?’
Still ignoring her, he began to undo his shirt.
‘I’ll tell you what she’ll do,’ Trudie persisted. ‘She’ll scarper with all the money and you’ll never see her again.’
Harry shrugged his shoulders, pulled off his shirt, threw it in the corner and lay back on the bed with a sensual come and get it grin. He didn’t want to do any more talking today.
‘Promise me you won’t do anything silly, Harry?’ Trudie begged, distracted by Harry’s toned, muscular body. She could feel the pull of desire inside her; he’d had that effect from the first moment she ever set eyes on him.
Trudie had first met Harry Rawlins over a year before her husband Jimmy Nunn started working for him. She’d been on a girls’ night out with Shirley Miller and they’d gone to the Fishers’ club for a little flutter on the roulette table. Harry had been there on his own, and Shirley, who had met him a couple of times before, had introduced Trudie. She’d felt an instant attraction and flirted with him, but Shirley had told her to back off as he was married and, even if he wasn’t, he was not a man to get involved with. Trudie hadn’t cared: she wanted him and nothing Shirley said was going to stop her having what she wanted.
Harry had been at the blackjack table when Trudie sat down next to him and deliberately let her thigh brush against his. He looked at her and she smiled seductively. It had the desired effect. His hand moved under the table and he gently pressed and ran one finger along her inner thigh. The tingling sensation that ran through her body was exquisite torture; she didn’t want it to stop. When Harry began to move his hand away, she grabbed it and moved it closer to her crotch. The way he made her feel, she’d have let him take her there and then on the blackjack table.