Raven, page 7
*
Half an hour later, Thomas found Roland in an abandoned railway carriage that he used as his meeting place. As usual, Roland had Titch on one side and Walter on the other. Both men were big, but slow, and Thomas suspected that once they saw what he was going to do to Roland, they’d run for their lives.
Roland looked over the top of his hand of playing cards but didn’t acknowledge Thomas, though his disdain was clear to see.
Thomas sauntered over to the upturned crate that they were playing cards on. He gripped the knife tightly that he held behind his back. Titch didn’t lift his eyes. Walter looked at him blankly, while Roland threw a card on the crate and picked up another. None of them suspected what was coming.
Before Titch or Walter could react, Thomas lifted his knife and slammed into the back of Roland’s neck. The man’s eyes widened in shock, and then Thomas plunged the knife into him again. Titch and Walter leapt to their feet. Both appeared to think about jumping Thomas but seeing the maniacal look on his face, they stared at him for a moment, terrified, before turning to run out of the carriage.
Roland Harris was now face down on the crate with blood pumping from the back of his neck. Thomas stood over his body, breathing fast after the sudden burst of adrenaline, and triumphant at the sight of his dead boss. He thought of his mother and dear sister, abused and murdered. Anger, pain and grief consumed his soul. ‘Argh,’ he screamed as he stabbed the knife into Roland’s back. Over and over, he plunged the knife in and out until the man’s spine was exposed.
Spent, he slumped onto the seat where Titch had sat. A shadow was cast in front of him and he looked up to see Titch and Walter standing in the doorway of the carriage. ‘I run this place now,’ he mumbled in between inhaling large lungfuls of air. ‘I’m the boss. Right?’
‘Right,’ the men agreed.
‘And this is why we’re called the Slashers.’ Thomas thumbed towards Roland’s maimed body. He’d proven himself and earned the fear and respect of Titch and Walter. But he wanted more. So much more. And one day, just like his father, he’d have it all.
6
Present Day
1949. London, Battersea.
‘Kevin Kelly’s son… You’re Kevin Kelly’s son,’ David stated.
‘That’s right, I am. Well done, Maynard, I knew that you’d work it out eventually. I’m Thomas Kelly. Pleased to meet you.’
The back of David’s neck felt as though it was on fire. He knew that his skin had blistered. The burn from the red-hot poker had seared deeply, the sting agonising. He tried to focus on what Thomas was saying but was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the intense pain in his neck, head, nose and hand. ‘But I thought that Morris Palmer headed up the Portland Pounders,’ he muttered.
‘He does.’
‘I’ve always had an understanding with the Pounders. We choose to stay away from each other. So what’s all this about?’ David asked.
Thomas sat back at the table. He rubbed his clean-shaven chin as he spoke. ‘Things have changed. I want my rightful place. The Pounders should be mine.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘When I take over your business, Morris Palmer won’t be in a position to touch me. I’ll destroy him and take from him everything that was once my father’s.’
‘And Georgina?’
‘Her father killed mine.’
‘But that wasn’t her fault.’
‘She must have ordered it.’
‘She didn’t. She had no idea that Jack Garrett had travelled to Liverpool.’
To David’s surprise, Kelly picked up the spanner from the table, sprung to his feet and steamed across the room. David knew what was coming but was powerless to stop it. He closed his eyes and waited to feel the blow from the tool.
When nothing came, he slowly opened his eyes again. Thomas Kelly was standing in front of him, his face contorted in anger.
‘I was going to smash your teeth out but I quite like having a conversation with you. But if you defend that slag again, I swear, I’ll knock every fucking tooth out of your head and then I’ll have your gob sewn up.’
David swallowed hard and could taste the blood in his saliva. He’d already been battered and mutilated but now at least he knew who he was dealing with. Kelly had shown his hand. The man wanted payback for the death of his father by killing Georgina. And he also intended to kill him and take over his business. David couldn’t see a way out but he wouldn’t die quietly. ‘Your father raped Georgina,’ he seethed.
‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up,’ Thomas Kelly yelled. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘Yes, I do, and I’m telling the truth whether you want to hear it or not. Your father had Georgina’s husband killed. Lash was gunned down in the street for no reason, and at the time, he was holding his young son’s hand. Your father then raped Georgina in the church during Lash’s funeral. That’s the sort of sick, twisted bastard he was.’
Thomas glared down at David with blazing eyes. His chest expanded and his hand gripped the spanner tightly. ‘I said, SHUT THE FUCK UP!’
Despite the pain he was in, David smirked. He could see that he was hitting Kelly where it hurt. The man had probably idolised his father but now he was learning a few home truths. He thought that seeing Thomas Kelly’s horrified shock might well be his last pleasure in life. Now he would tell him more about the bastard who had fathered him. ‘Kevin Kelly was a rapist and he trafficked kids for sex. He was behind hundreds of children as young as two and three being stolen and sold to kiddie fiddlers. They were abused and passed on until they died from heinous injuries. You must be so proud to be his son.’
‘You’re a liar!’
‘I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t a fucking liar. If you don’t believe me, ask Morris Palmer. He’ll tell you the same. Morris never liked what your father did, and after he was killed, Morris put a stop to it. Kevin Kelly was a filthy bastard and deserved to die,’ David goaded. He tensed, expecting the man’s fury to be unleashed upon him and hoped that now at least, death would come quickly.
*
Georgina’s heart was racing and thoughts were firing through her mind. Who were these men and where was David? She really didn’t want to leave Charlotte alone but the girl had insisted. And although Georgina would have stayed with Charlotte, she was quietly pleased that she’d been asked to leave. She had to find David!
‘What now?’ Johnny asked as he started the car.
‘They seem to be one step ahead of me and they clearly know what pies I’ve had my fingers in, though I shouldn’t think they’ll have any idea about Mary’s Marvels. Drop me there, go and fetch Benjamin and then gather as many of the blokes as you can. I’ll have a plan by then.’
Johnny drove round to the back of Mary’s Marvels, a second-hand clothes and furniture shop in Tooting Broadway. A few years earlier, Georgina had gifted to Mary the initial set-up fees for the shop and now her old life-long next-door neighbour turned a modest profit. She lived in the flat above with her husband. Georgina knew that she could trust Mary. The woman had proven it when Georgina had escaped from Holloway prison. Mary had willingly helped her evade capture and Mary’s husband had even constructed a getaway route between their houses.
‘I’ll come in with you and make sure that everything is all right,’ Johnny offered.
‘No, it’ll be fine. No one knows about this place. It’s Mary’s, not mine. Just bring Benjamin and the blokes here as quick as you can. And get Ned to bring Charlotte here too,’ Georgina urged. Placing her hand on Johnny’s arm, she gently warned, ‘Be careful. Make sure you’re not followed.’
As Johnny sped off, Georgina knocked on the back door and when it opened, Mary looked delighted to see her. ‘By Jesus Christ, Mary mother of Jesus, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so you are. Aw, it’s so good to see you, child. Come in, come in.’
‘It’s good to see you too, but close the shop,’ Georgina said. ‘We need to talk.’
Mary tutted. ‘Lord above and all the saints in heaven, you’re in trouble, gal, aren’t you?’
Georgina nodded. ‘Yes, Mary, of the worst kind.’
‘Sit in my kitchen while I close up.’
Georgina walked through to the tiny kitchenette that adjoined the storeroom. There was no room for a table, just two sagging but comfy-looking easy chairs, a sink, a cupboard and a little stove with a kettle on top. She filled the kettle and put it on the gas to boil.
‘So, what’s wrong?’ Mary asked as she bustled into the room.
Georgina turned to look at the kind face of the red-haired Irishwoman whom she’d known since her childhood, and had to fight to hold back tears. ‘Oh, Mary,’ she said, ‘where do I begin?’
Mary urged her to sit on one of the chairs and handed her a handkerchief. ‘At the beginning,’ she said. ‘Start at the beginning.’
Georgina related everything to Mary and openly cried as she told the older woman about Charlotte losing the baby and how cruel it had been. ‘It’s all my fault. I swear, Mary, I attract death. From as far back as I can remember, death has followed me… My mother died giving birth to me… My gran’s husband, Percy, was buried in a barrel in our backyard and even Ruby, the lady who once looked after me, she threw herself into the Thames. And all that before I’d even started school.’
‘Now, now, pet, don’t go getting yourself all maudlin. It wasn’t your fault that your mother died. And that’s nonsense about Percy. The man was a drinker and went off one day and never came home.’
Georgina shook her head. ‘No, me gran told me what really happened and now that she’s no longer with us, it’s safe to tell the truth. Percy treated her badly, and one day she just snapped. She picked up her frying pan and caved his head in. Then her and Ruby put him in a barrel and buried him in the bit of ground next to the coal bunker.’
Mary crossed her chest and smiled through her astonishment. ‘Ha, Dulcie was a fierce woman, God rest her soul. I can’t say I blame her for what she did. There’s been many times that I’ve been tempted to do the same to my old man.’
Georgina’s found herself smiling softly too. The memories of her gran were so precious, and being with Mary had a calming effect. Her old neighbour was her only connection to her childhood, where she’d lived in a small, terraced house, and had been raised by her gran and her dad. Mary handed Georgina a cup of sweet tea, and as she sipped the warm liquid, she wondered what her gran would tell her to do in this situation. ‘I need to find David, but first and foremost I have to protect my children.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘With Molly, but they’ll be safer with their grandparents.’
‘Do you know where they are?’
‘Back in Ireland. But it will take days for word to reach them. And then they’d have to travel to Molly’s. To save time, I was wondering if you would like a holiday?’
Mary chuckled. ‘I can guess what you have in mind. It would be nice to see my brothers and sisters. None of us are getting any younger and I’m sure Alfie and Selina will enjoy a trip to Ireland with their aunty Mary.’
Georgina sighed with relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll arrange for someone to drive you.’
‘Let’s hope the car ferry crossing will be smooth,’ Mary mused, and then head cocking to one side, she added shrewdly, ‘And as you’ll have to lay low, I’m guessing you’ll be wanting to stay in our flat with Charlotte while we’re away?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind, Mary, that would be a great help too.’
‘It’s fine. Now you finish that tea while I go upstairs to pack. There’s more in the pot if you want it.’
Reassured that her children were going to be safe, Georgina poured herself another drink. Once she’d sorted out a driver for Mary, she could concentrate fully on finding David. She just prayed she would find him alive.
*
Johnny pulled up at the back of Mary’s Marvels and turned to Benjamin, his voice solemn. ‘I’ll come in with you. She’s not going to take this well.’
Benjamin pushed his round-rimmed glasses up his nose. ‘Thank you. I’d – erm – appreciate that,’ he replied nervously.
Benjamin was a trusted member of Georgina’s team, her accountant, and he’d once been her manager of the members-only Penthouse Club for men. He now worked out of an office in the back of his father’s jewellery shop in Clapham Junction. Johnny smiled to himself. Benjamin’s father, though an old fella now, was still the best and most discerning fence in Battersea. He knew that Georgina’s dad, Jack, had been dealing with Benjamin’s father for most of his life until he’d been untimely killed by Kevin Kelly. He supposed that Georgina had come to know Benjamin through selling her nicked gear to Benjamin’s father. From what Johnny had heard, when Georgina had been a youngster, she’d been a good pickpocket and burglar. He couldn’t imagine her like that now – she was such a classy bird.
‘This is going to be, erm, uncomfortable,’ Benjamin mumbled.
Johnny liked the man but found him to be a bit of an oddball. He had a nervous disposition, yet in the Penthouse, his personality would switch to become flamboyant and confident. It was no secret that Benjamin preferred men to women but Johnny didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, who Benjamin took to his bed was none of his business. Just as long as the man could be trusted; that’s all that Johnny was bothered about. Benjamin had proven his worth on many occasions, and Johnny knew that the awkward accountant would risk his life to protect Miss Garrett.
They knocked on the back door and Georgina answered it, leading them into a small kitchen. Johnny could see from her red and puffy eyes that she’d been crying and his heart went out to her.
‘Hello, Benjamin,’ she smiled sadly. ‘Thanks, Johnny. You can fetch the blokes now.’
‘Actually, Miss Garrett, there’s something we need to show you first. Sit down, eh, and I’ll pour you a cuppa.’
‘I don’t want any more tea, Johnny, just show me,’ she demanded impatiently.
Johnny glanced anxiously at Benjamin who then stepped forward. Benjamin’s hand shook as he held out a piece of paper towards Georgina.
‘This was dropped off to the, erm, shop,’ he said, tentatively.
Miss Garrett snatched the paper from Benjamin’s hand. Her face drained of colour as she read the message. ‘And the rest of it. Where’s the rest of the message?’ she asked.
The slightly built, Jewish man placed his briefcase on top of the cupboard, opened it and reached inside. He pulled out a cigar box and then turned to Miss Garrett. ‘It’s in here. Are you sure you want to, erm, see it?’
‘I’ve no reason to fear my husband’s finger,’ she replied and snatched the small box from his trembling hand. Georgina opened it, and with what looked a supreme effort, she didn’t baulk or retch at the sight of the severed digit. She cleared her throat, snapped the box closed and told Johnny, ‘Right, off you go, round up the men and no dawdling.’
Johnny was surprised at how calmly she’d taken the message, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. When Miss Garrett had run the businesses, she’d never shown fear, and had ruled them all with a fist of iron. He’d seen her knock out a bloke with those fists, her boxing skills as good as any man’s. He’d seen her dressed as a man too, but also looking a stunner in women’s clothes. Yet looking at her now, despite her trying to hide it, Johnny could just about spot her vulnerability. But she couldn’t be blamed for being worried, especially after seeing the message. He knew exactly what it said. He’d read it and remembered every word.
Georgina Garrett
Here’s David’s finger.
You’ll do exactly as I say if you want the rest of your husband back in one piece.
Meet me at Clapham Common bandstand. Sunday. Midnight. Come alone.
T
Johnny left the shop and raced from Tooting back to Battersea. As he drove, he wondered what Miss Garrett was going to do. And who was T? He couldn’t think of anyone with that initial. Would she go alone as instructed? He hoped not. He wanted to be there to protect her but she was a determined woman and he never went against her orders. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, determined that on this occasion, if Miss Garrett told him that he couldn’t go with her, he would defy her, whether she liked it or not.
7
Thomas Kelly had tied the gag back around David’s mouth. He didn’t want to hear another bad word about his father. Especially as he feared that the accounts were true.
He shivered with cold in the filthy, stark warehouse, and threw more wood on the fire. Then sitting at the old table, he propped his head in his hands as he thought back to when he’d been a child. He couldn’t have been any older than six, maybe seven, when he’d seen two little girls taken down to his father’s cellar. When he’d questioned his dad about it, he’d been told that the girls had run away from home and had been found on the docks. They were being locked in the cellar for their own safety, until their mother arrived to collect them.
Thomas hadn’t questioned it further. Why would he? Anything that his father had said to him was taken as gospel. Yet now, recalling the look of terror in the little girls’ eyes, he realised that he’d been lied to. He’d seen that same expression on the faces of a couple of young boys who’d been bundled into the back of one of his father’s trucks. His dad had explained that the boys were caught pinching apples from trees in the back garden and were being taken to the police station. Thomas could see the truth now. His father wouldn’t have taken anyone to the cops, especially not young boys for nicking apples!
He ran his hand through his hair in despair. The more he thought about it, the more memories sprang to mind. The child trafficking had been going on right under his nose, in blatant sight, but he’d been too young to understand. He felt sickened at the thought of what had happened to those poor kids, some the same age as he had been, some younger.
