by Janice Nix
I trusted Scully with my life, teddy with my secrets, and Nadia with my heart. I felt so vulnerable in those days – I wasn’t sure who else I could rely on.
I needed to find out who it was I couldn’t trust. I had to know who was chatting shit about me and do something to stop them.
‘Janice, this is my boyfriend, Big Breed,’ said Sabrina. ‘It’s funny – he lives right next door.’
‘Hey, Breed.’
The new boyfriend didn’t move, just raised a hand in greeting from the sofa. He seemed to have made himself at home. He was a young guy, attractive but soft-faced. Weak-looking, I thought – he’d struggle with decisions or just leave them to others. Sabrina was a beautiful girl – she could do better. But if my sister wants fun times with the boy next door, then that’s no business of mine.
I didn’t see him much after that. Now that her place was my safe house, I didn’t go there often. When I handed over cash to her, we met at Clapham High Street Sainsbury’s. Then one afternoon, I saw another graze on her face. Sabrina acted normally and didn’t even mention the graze. Now I came to think of it, she’d not mentioned the first one either. It wasn’t like her. Suddenly, it struck me that her silence was a warning.
But I couldn’t be sure – at least, not yet. Then two weeks later, she had a black eye. She’d tried to cover it with make-up. Red flag. Now I knew.
‘What the fuck, Sabrina?’ I demanded.
‘What the fuck what?’ Straightaway she was defensive.
‘What the fuck you think? That’s three bruises I seen on you. What’s going on?’
Around us, the Clapham shoppers jostled and hurried by. A woman who’d caught part of what I said gave us both a worried glance.
‘Shhhh!’ said Sabrina, looking very embarrassed. ‘Why you talking so loud?’
‘It’s him, isn’t it? It’s Breed. He’s knocking you around.’
‘Shhhh! Of course it isn’t Breed!’ she hissed. ‘It was an accident.’
She dropped her eyes as she said it. She couldn’t lie to me. I knew her too well.
‘Three times you had an accident and bashed your face? My – you’re getting careless!’
‘Janice – it’s nothing. It was just – it was stupid. It was my fault anyway.’
‘I thought you said it was an accident!’
‘Look – it wasn’t what you think.’
Why was she defending a man who would treat her this way? Then I saw that Sabrina was trembling. I reached out my hand to reassure her, but the moment I touched her, she yanked her arm away.
‘Jan – why don’t you give me your stuff and leave me alone? Just because you pay me now, it doesn’t mean you can run my life.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
‘Doing business doesn’t change anything else! You’re still my sister.’
‘Maybe it seems that way to you. Except that now you think you own me. Well, you don’t! I don’t care how much money you’ve got.’
‘Why d’you keep talking about money? Money doesn’t matter! What I’m saying is that lowlife needs to keep his hands to himself!’
‘It wasn’t Breed!’
‘Sab – I hope you don’t let him see what you’re keeping for me at home. I want that man to stay out of my business.’
‘Jan – honestly – it’s fine. I don’t show him anything. It’s fine. You can trust him.’
But I didn’t. I was afraid for my same-birthday-sister. I was also very worried about my safe house. This situation needed very careful thinking.
I gave my new Beretta Bobcat to Krystal for safekeeping. Sabrina’s place wasn’t secure any more – not now that Big Breed was around. Krystal concealed the gun in her outhouse. But I only found out where she kept it after she had been arrested. The police came to raid her on a day when she was clean. They ripped her whole place apart, but there was nothing there to find. Then just as they were leaving, someone noticed the outhouse. They did Krystal for possessing an illegal firearm.
‘We know it isn’t yours,’ they told her at the station. ‘Phone Nasty Girl and tell her – come and get it.’
But my Krystal wasn’t talking. She stuck to the story that the gun belonged to her. She was sentenced to nine months and served three.
So now the cops knew I carried. How much else did they know? They didn’t have the whole picture about me – not yet. If they did, I would be under arrest. But one thing was for sure – they were seeing far too many connections.
It had been a good morning on the road. I decided there’d be no more work today. I rang Sabrina. I missed her, and we needed to talk. A lovely lunch with wine in some nice relaxing place would be the perfect chance to do it. She immediately agreed, and I felt happier than I had for quite a while. Even if we argued, we would always be sisters. As I swung the car into Acre Lane, chatting like we always used to do, my new flip phone rang.
‘Janice?’ I heard an anxious voice in my ear. It was Pete, my neighbour, a quiet man who lived on the opposite side of my landing.
‘Hey, Pete. Everything alright?’
‘You need to get home right away. Your flat is full of police.’
‘Oh my goodness!’
Sabrina couldn’t hear what Pete was saying, but she saw the expression on my face. She widened her eyes questioningly.
‘Loads of them!’ said Pete, who was terribly alarmed. ‘It’s like some sort of raid! Yelling and shouting! They’ve broken down your door! It has to be some awful mistake.’
‘Oh my God, it must be. Thanks for telling me. I’ll come straight away.’
‘Jan – what it is?’ asked Sabrina.
I pulled the car over to the kerb.
‘I got problems. Police are at the house.’
‘Oh Christ!’ said Sabrina, immediately panicked.
‘Don’t worry – they won’t find anything. But I must get back right now.’
My heart was pounding. I knew I must think quickly, and not let shock and alarm lead me into making a mistake. If I gave my drugs and cash to Sabrina to take home, there was a good chance that Big Breed would see them. I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t let that happen. No – she would have to take them somewhere else.
‘Sab,’ I asked, ‘can you do something for me?’
But Sabrina was too freaked out to listen.
‘Jesus, Jan – why are they raiding you?’
‘Babe,’ I said grimly, ‘I don’t know. But I need you to stay really calm and do just as I say.’
‘Uh – sure, sure, okay.’
‘Take the car to Auntie Ida’s and give her this lot.’ I gestured to my bag down on the floor of the car. ‘She’ll know what to do with it. I’ll get a cab home from here.’
‘Okay. Okay.’ I could see her hands were shaking.
‘Sab – just stay calm. It’s going to be fine.’
She leaned forward and opened up the top of the bag. The takings weren’t bound or counted yet, just pushed inside in rolls. There was just over sixteen thousand pounds. She looked at me in total amazement.
‘My God, Jan! How much is this?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Close the bag. Just pretend it’s not there, and drive like normal.’
‘But – is this what you make in one day?!’
‘Sabrina – please just drive the car. Go to Ida’s.’
I gave her everything I had on me that morning. She drove my car away. Then I found a cab and sat breathing slowly, gathering myself as I approached my home.
It’s going to be fine, I’d told Sabrina. I only wished that I could be so sure.
Three blue-light cars were drawn up close to the building. The outer door was open. As I ran up the two flights of stairs, I heard voices and the hiss and crackle of police radios. My front door was hanging off its hinges. The police had trashed my place.
Stepping into the hall, I could see that my big chest of drawers had been upended. I glanced into the kitchen where the contents of my cupboards and fridge lay strewn ac
ross the floor and on the tops of the units. Containers had been toppled on their sides and leaked their contents. The searchers had even tipped out the sugar bowl. A policewoman was standing by the window.
‘I take it you are Janice?’ She was clearly the officer in charge.
‘Yes I am, and who are you? What’s going on?’
‘We are authorised to carry out a search of these premises.’
‘Where’s your warrant?’
She held out a sheet of paper. I glanced briefly at the document, then paused and looked again, trying to make sense of what I saw.
‘Firearms?’ I demanded. ‘What d’you mean – firearms?’
The policewoman arched her eyebrows.
‘Isn’t that what it says?’
I knew I should casual this out, but I couldn’t. My head was hot.
‘Bitch,’ I snarled, ‘don’t you get sarcastic with me.’
She saw that she’d got under my skin, and gave a satisfied smile. I cursed myself for losing control. Anger can run wild.
‘Anyway – if you’re searching for guns,’ I went on, ‘why you looking in my sugar bowl?’
I stormed down the passage. The carpet crunched with broken glass. My pictures had been wrenched off the walls. The living room looked as though a tornado had passed through – cushions slashed, chairs on their backs, soil from the plant pots scattered and smeared along the windowsills. An officer was standing in the middle of the room. As I stared at the wreckage, I could have torn his face off.
‘Look what you’ve done!’ I yelled. ‘You’ve had the place to yourselves – you could have planted anything here!’
He lifted a heavy-booted foot and placed it contemptuously on my coffee table.
‘Dirty bloody drug dealers,’ he said.
Radios spitting, they started their retreat from the flat. There was nothing I could do but watch them leave.
When Nadia came home and saw the mess, she was inconsolable. I’d made a start with the tidying by then, beginning with her bedroom, to try to protect her from the worst of it. But my baby stood in the wreckage of our home, tears streaming down her face.
‘Why did they do this?’ she kept asking. ‘Mummy – why?’ I had no way to answer her.
It took us days to clear up all the mess. Although my little girl was very brave, I knew that it would be weeks before she felt secure again.
‘Hey there, Lassell. Is the jeep ready?’
Nasty Girl had engine trouble, and Lassell was my mechanic. He had a shop in Barnwell Road, not far from Brixton station. I sat outside with Mikey in one of my Thornton Heath bangers. Shoes was going to drive the banger home for me, as soon as I got Nasty Girl back.
‘Just smartening her up,’ said Lassell’s voice on the phone. ‘Ten minutes. Sorry, Jan.’
‘S’okay, man.’ I sat back to wait.
A man came walking slowly round the corner from Railton Road behind me – a tall black guy in a dark leather jacket. I always paid attention to the street. As I watched his approach, I liked the look of the man less and less. Mikey Shoes had clocked him too. His focus zeroed in. We sat there without moving.
The man came to a stop on the pavement beside me. He bent forward and very deliberately stared into the car.
Enough already. I wound the window down.
‘Do you have a problem?’ I asked him.
‘Hey, Janice,’ he replied.
‘Hey yourself. You got a name?’
‘Sticks Man.’
‘And what are you wanting, Sticks Man?’
He laid his hand on the roof of my car. It was a small act of aggression, pushing himself into my space.
‘Godfather says you gotta pay your tax,’ he told me.
‘Godfather? Who’s the godfather?’
‘He’s round the corner.’
‘I thought I knew who the godfather is,’ I said. ‘And he’s not hiding round in Railton Road this morning.’
Mikey Shoes was eyeballing Sticks Man. Sticks Man tried to tough it out, but I could see he didn’t like that kind of attention one bit.
‘Look, man,’ Sticks muttered, ‘I’m just telling you what the boss say.’
‘The boss? Well now, you go back round the corner, and tell the boss he can fuck off.’
‘He won’t like it.’
‘So he can come and tell me.’
Mikey Shoes and I sat waiting in the sunshine. A couple of minutes later, another man came around the corner. I recognised him straight away. I hadn’t seen him since Janet’s funeral. I certainly didn’t want to see him now.
Scorcher still wore beautiful crocodile skin shoes. He had his screw face on, that look of menace that he’d been practising for a very long time. He was always wanting to be gangsta. He drew level with the car, bent his knees and crouched down. He laid two fingertips very gently against my forehead. I shuddered, feeling nothing but pure anger. I could scarcely bear him to touch me, but I didn’t flinch away.
‘Janice. Mama J.’ His voice was a slow, mocking drawl. ‘If you want to work in Brixton, you gotta pay tax.’
So now he’s tryin’ extortion.
He jabbed his fingers harder into my face. I allowed my head to turn. A cold stillness possessed me. As he withdrew his hand, I turned back and looked him straight in his eye.
‘Scorcher, mi nah pay yuh no tax,’ I said.
He reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket, showing me a glimpse of a Browning. He wanted me to see he was carrying. In less than a second, Mikey Shoes did the same. For a heartbeat, the three of us stayed motionless. A stand-off.
He thinks he’s got me scared. But I can deal with Scorcher.
I shoved the door wide open in a sudden, violent swing, sending him sprawling on his back. Now I was out on the pavement, standing over him.
‘Yes, Scorcher!’ I shouted. ‘Shoot me inna Barnwell Road! Yuh tink yuh big and bad! Fire!’
Furious, he tried to scramble up. Before he could manage it, I leaned over him. I pushed two fingers hard into his cheek in the same way he had done to me. I knew a man like Scorcher would never have believed that a woman would have the strength to take him on. I imagined the London pavement stained with his blood. A slow, red pool of vengeance for Pepper.
‘Scorcher! You’ve done more damage than you ever could put right. If I did what I’d like to, I’d fuck you up right here.’
I straightened myself up.
‘Fuck with me again,’ I told him, ‘and I’ll pay a man to fuck with you.’
Mikey Shoes had opened his door and climbed out. But it was over. Scorcher was getting to his feet and backing off, dusting himself down. I had faced him, and won. I had my army behind me, but the victory today was mine alone.
So – could dis be Scorcher who been causin’ mi dis trouble?
The more I thought, the more I wondered. The break-in at my flat. Krystal arrested. The whisper of guns that had reached the police. I remembered Scully’s questions. Someone got a grudge? Someone jealous?
Yes. I thought – someone was jealous. And that someone might be Scorcher. He knew the word about me on the street. I used to be a shoplifter. Now I ran a whole operation that was ten times Scorcher’s size. This small-time criminal envied my success. He thought he could take me down.
He was nothing but a trouble-making fool, and I’d dealt with him. I’d left him humiliated, lying on the ground in Barnwell Road. I hoped it meant the whole affair was over. I was sick of all this shit. I wanted to get on with my business and my life.
But my problems were only getting started.
The moment I picked up the phone, I knew that something was terribly wrong. Ida was trying to sound calm, but underneath I could tell she was distraught.
‘Janice? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You need to come here now.’
‘Is there a problem, Mums? What you sorry about?’
When she told me what happened, I rushed straight round to her place in Streatham. The moment she saw me, she burst int
o tears. I suddenly noticed she looked older now, and smaller. I put my arms around her. As I held her, her body felt so little and frail.
‘Oh, Mums. Mums, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Just tell me what happened.’
‘I don’t know. I’ve been burgled. This has never happened before! Oh Janice – I’m so sorry!’
Ida’s house was my belly – the place where I stored not just a large amount of money, but my treasure. A robbery there was a disaster – and both of us knew it. I looked around. The break-in didn’t look like a professional job at first glance – just a panel of glass in the back door smashed while Ida had been out at the shops. But this had been no opportunist.
Ida still stored money for her pardners – a couple of thousand. For me she stored many thousands more. Her house had many hiding places: the under-stairs cupboard, the wardrobe, underneath the bath. And whoever this burglar might be – he’d known where to look. He’d gone straight to my stash.
But that wasn’t all I’d lost. The burglars had taken something worth far more. They had stolen the Louis Vuitton attaché case. I thought again of the day Pepper and I first saw the case in Crocodile – how she’d doubted my plan, but she’d stepped right up to help. I remembered how the two of us had burst into peals of laughter as we made our triumphant getaway. How I’d teased her as I jimmied the lock open and uncovered our haul. It was the last time I ever saw her laugh. Just a few weeks later came the horror in New Bond Street.
Oh darlin’, mi miss you so.
That case was the last link between us. Whoever stole it had taken a precious memory away from me. This was far more than business – this was personal. I swore that I would find out who had done this. And when I do, they’re going to be sorry.
But I barely had time to think how I might do it. A few days later, still reeling from the theft of the case, I took another call. It was Sabrina. She sounded muffled, then I realised she was crying so much that I could hardly make out what she was saying.
