Lawless

by Jessie Keane

  Winter deepened and hardened its grip, and soon it was December: Christmas Eve. Kit had presents to buy for Daisy and Ruby and the kids. Along with most of the rest of the population of London, he’d been up and down Oxford Street, which was twinkling with a million festive lights.

  Finished at last, knackered after jostling through the crowds, he drove back home, parked up, got the presents out of the boot and locked the Bentley. He was halfway across the pavement in the rain when he saw someone sitting on the steps leading up to his front door. He stopped walking and stood, immobile, staring up at the small white shape huddled there. His heart was in his mouth.

  ‘Bianca?’ he said.

  It couldn’t be her. He’d lost her, she’d vanished from his life, and he had come to terms with that. He wasn’t going to get her back. The shock of all he’d told her had been too much for her. But now . . .

  She was here.

  Her head lifted. Their eyes met and held. Slowly she stood up, walked down a step or two. He dropped the bags and she almost fell into his arms.

  ‘Jesus, Bianca . . .’ he moaned, and kissed her over and over again. Feverishly, she responded. Nothing was said for long moments, then Kit eased her away from him. ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘Oh – here and there,’ she said, with a small sad smile.

  ‘You just left. Vanished without a fucking word.’

  ‘I had to think. I had to be alone for a while.’

  ‘Are you all right, you crazy cow?’

  ‘I’m fine. I needed to think about everything. I was . . . confused.’

  Kit nodded slowly. Of course the poor little bitch had been confused. Her world had been thrown into chaos.

  ‘I thought I might have some real family out there, somewhere,’ she said. ‘That I might be able to find them. But I can’t remember them. I’ve tried, so hard. But I can’t. How am I ever going to know if I can’t remember anything?’

  ‘You haven’t been to see . . .’ He’d been about to say your mother. But Bella Danieri wasn’t Bianca’s mother. As for her real family – who knew?

  ‘I haven’t seen her,’ said Bianca.

  Kit was silent.

  ‘I hate her,’ said Bianca. ‘I hate them all. They snatched my past away. Robbed me of everything. Lied to me.’

  ‘Even Tito?’ asked Kit.

  ‘Yes. Even him.’ Her eyes were hard. ‘Him more than any of them. You know Fabio’s in charge now?’

  It was cold out here and the drizzle was starting to turn to sleet.

  ‘Now Vittore’s out of the way? Yeah. I know. What will you do?’ he asked her.

  ‘Tito taught me to be camorristi,’ said Bianca. ‘That’s what I am. Fabio’s going to hear about it.’

  Kit stared at her. ‘I’ll help. If you want.’

  Bianca’s eyes softened as they looked into his. ‘I want that very much,’ she said, and they kissed again, standing there in the pouring rain, neither one of them caring in the least that they were getting wet.

  EPILOGUE

  Ruby was crossing the hall at the Marlow house when the newspaper came through the front door. She went over and picked it up, and took it through to the kitchen. Pouring coffee from the cafetière into a mug, aware of happy chattering coming from upstairs where Daisy and Jody were getting the twins up and ready for the day, she thumbed through, glancing at the headlines, not paying anything very close attention. And then she saw it.

  Tragic Accident

  The bodies of Lord Anthony and Lady Violet Albermarle were discovered yesterday evening in the lake at Albermarle House. Both were pronounced dead at the scene. It is believed that they were fishing from a small boat and that it overturned and both sadly drowned.

  Ruby sat there for a long time, her heart pounding as she stared at the newspaper.

  Oh, Kit, you had to make someone pay, didn’t you, she thought.

  Then she heard Daisy, a gurgling baby in her arms, coming down the stairs. She closed the paper and slipped it quickly into the bin. She’d lost her oldest and dearest friend, but she knew that she wouldn’t be shedding any tears.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  About the Author

  Jessie Keane was born rich. Then the family business went bust and she was left poor and struggling in dead-end jobs, so she knows both ends of the spectrum and tells it straight. Her fascination with London and the underworld led her to write the No.1 Heatseeker Dirty Game, followed by bestsellers Black Widow, Scarlet Women, Jail Bird, The Make, Playing Dead, Nameless and Ruthless. She now lives in Hampshire. You can reach Jessie on her website www.jessiekeane.com.

  By Jessie Keane

  Jail Bird

  The Make

  Nameless

  Lawless

  THE ANNIE CARTER NOVELS

  Dirty Game

  Black Widow

  Scarlet Women

  Playing Dead

  Ruthless

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To all those who have helped me along the way to this book, thank you. Special mentions go to Steve and Lynne Ottaway, Sue Kemish, Louise Marley and Karen and Paul, all good friends and supporters.

  Big love and hugs to everyone on the Pan Macmillan team, particularly my fabulous editor Wayne Brookes, PR supergirl Katie James and Creative Director Geoff Duffield. Thanks too to my agent Jane Gregory.

  For information on the Naples Camorra, I am grateful to Tom Behan for his excellent See Naples and Die – The Camorra and Organised Crime.

  The release of Roy Orbison’s album I’m Still In Love With You has been listed as 1974, 1975 and 1976, so I’ve employed a little artistic licence and taken it as 1974.

  For information about the London underworld, thanks to all my usual sources. You know who you are.

  First published 2014 by Pan Books

  This electronic edition published 2014 by Pan Books

  an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited

  Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR

  Basingstoke and Oxford

  Associated companies throughout the world

  www.panmacmillan.com

  ISBN 978-1-4472-4945-0

  Copyright © Jessie Keane 2014

  The right of Jessie Keane to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The Macmillan Group has no responsibility for the information provided by any author websites whose address you obtain from this book (‘author websites’). The inclusion of author website addresses in this book does not constitute an endorsement by or association with us of such sites or the content, products, advertising or other materials presented on such sites.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.