Deceived: THE BRAND NEW NOVEL. No one knows crime like Kray.

by Roberta Kray

  ‘Can I help you?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m Judith.’

  The girl’s brows arched as if she didn’t have a clue who Judith was. ‘I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?’

  Judith noticed that her replacement – obviously some sort of temp – had completely rearranged her desk. She felt a spurt of irritation at having her territory invaded, and struggled to maintain a smile. ‘Judith Jonson,’ she explained. ‘I usually sit where you are now.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She heard more than surprise in that single syllable. There was something else, a kind of judgement, though possibly she was being oversensitive. It didn’t help that she’d decided to forgo any make-up today in the hope of looking frail and pale enough to elicit some sympathy from her employer. Now, as she stared at her usurper’s heart-shaped face and flawless skin, she was regretting that decision. ‘I’d like a word with Mr Gillespie. Is he free at the moment?’

  ‘Mr Gillespie isn’t here.’

  ‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’

  ‘If you could just wait here a moment.’ The girl rose from her desk, smoothed down her skirt and crossed the reception area to knock on Mr Tate’s door. She went inside, coming back out a minute later. ‘You can go in now.’

  Judith had no desire to talk to Mr Tate, but the choice had been taken out of her hands. ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘Ah, Judith,’ he said as she entered the office. ‘We didn’t expect to see you until Monday. I take it you haven’t heard about Mr Gillespie?’

  She felt a jolt of alarm. ‘What’s happened? Has something happened to him?’

  ‘I’m afraid he fell ill at the weekend, a mild heart attack. Please don’t worry, though, he’s quite all right. He’ll be out of hospital and back home soon.’

  ‘How awful. Poor Mr Gillespie.’

  ‘Indeed. I’m sure we all wish him a speedy recovery.’ He fiddled with some papers on his desk, glanced down and then up again. ‘However, he was thinking of retiring at the end of this year, and with recent events … well, he’s decided to bring things forward.’

  ‘He won’t be coming back?’

  ‘No.’

  Judith felt her heart sink. Mr Gillespie had always been her ally, her protector, and she couldn’t imagine working here without him.

  ‘There are going to be changes,’ Mr Tate continued, ‘but nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be taking on a couple of junior partners and so there’ll be plenty of work to go around. I see you’ve already met Natasha. She’ll be staying on as my personal secretary and … erm …’ He paused to clear his throat. ‘And as receptionist. That way you’ll be free to spend more time helping the new partners settle in.’

  The penny dropped. She was going to be sidelined, made to type all the boring stuff and probably shoved into that poky rear office, where she’d spend her days in splendid isolation. ‘You’re taking me off reception?’

  ‘Oh, it’s no reflection on you, Judith. You’ve done an excellent job, but I think you’ll be better deployed in a new position.’

  Judith, who felt like she’d had too many changes foisted on her over the past few days, smiled but shook her head. The words sprang out of her mouth before she had time to consider them properly. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking recently: maybe it’s time for me to move on. I’ve enjoyed working here, but … things are changing, aren’t they? Perhaps we all need a fresh start.’

  Mr Tate stroked his moustache while he considered this unexpected – but definitely welcome – turn of events. He didn’t try and talk her out of it. ‘Well, if that’s what you’d prefer …’

  ‘I think it’s for the best.’

  He nodded. ‘Very well, then. Although I’d just like to say that we’ve appreciated all your hard work through the years. You’ll be missed.’

  She didn’t detect much sincerity in his voice, but thanked him regardless. Then she added reluctantly, ‘I suppose you’ll want me to work out my notice?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary. It’s only me here at the moment, so I’m sure Natasha can manage.’

  Judith was relieved. It meant she didn’t have to delay her plans to return to London. Although she’d have preferred to have a reference from Mr Gillespie, that was hardly feasible at the moment. ‘Could you post a reference to me?’ she asked. ‘Would that be all right?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  They politely wished each other the best, and Judith left the room. Natasha stopped her typing to look up at her. The girl wore a smug expression, as if she thought she’d got one over on Judith by stealing her position.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Couldn’t be better,’ Judith said, smiling brightly.

  ‘I’ll see you on Monday, then.’

  Judith didn’t bother to put her straight. She felt the girl’s snooty gaze follow her out through the door. It was only when she was back on Earl Street, walking away, that the full force of what she’d done struck her. She had just made herself voluntarily jobless. And soon she’d be homeless too. Was she mad? Perhaps she was, but she felt a glorious sense of liberation. This was swiftly followed by a wave of panic. She stopped and breathed in the salty sea air. One thing was for certain: there was no going back.

  23

  Elsa slid into the booth, her eyes gleaming. ‘You came.’

  ‘Clearly,’ he said, glancing at his watch as if to press home the point that his time was precious. ‘What do you want?’

  She looked around the pub, making sure no one was close enough to hear, and leaned forward a little. ‘To make a deal, of course.’

  ‘And what kind of deal would that be?’

  ‘The sort where I give you what you want and you give me what I want.’

  ‘Don’t play games, love. I’m not in the mood. If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.’

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Cast your mind back to the twelfth of October 1944, a rainy night in Kellston. It’s a Thursday, not too late, about ten o’clock. Lennie Hull has been in the Fox and now he’s winding through the back streets – not too steady on his feet, he’s had a skinful – heading for home. A girl approaches him. She’s blonde, wearing a cream raincoat. Maybe she’s drunk too, or maybe there’s something else wrong with her. Anyway, she gets right in his face, yelling at him, giving him what for.’ Elsa paused and looked at the man sitting across from her. ‘Any of this starting to ring bells?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Let’s not go down that road. It’s stupid and pointless. I was there, you see. I saw everything.’

  The man shrugged, still trying to play dumb. But his cocky demeanour had turned more wary now. He was watching her closely, narrow-eyed, and the corners of his mouth had tightened.

  ‘You’re whistling in the wind, love. If you were there, why didn’t you go to the law?’

  Elsa flapped her hand dismissively. ‘Why would I? So far as I’m concerned, Lennie Hull got what he deserved. He was a filthy, vicious bastard and I hope he rots in hell. No, I don’t give a damn about that. I did the decent thing back then and kept my mouth shut.’

  ‘So what happened next in this fairy tale of yours?’

  ‘She pulls out a gun, doesn’t she, starts waving it around. But we both know what Lennie was like. He didn’t believe she was going to shoot him, not for a minute. So he’s standing there laughing at her, taunting her, telling her to pull the bloody trigger. Thinks she won’t dare, thinks she hasn’t got the nerve. And, well, we both know what happened next.’ Elsa smiled slyly. ‘She must have gone into shock – who wouldn’t with Lennie Hull’s brains all over them? – because she just stood there looking down at him. Then she took off like a bat out of hell.’

  He didn’t say anything for a while, just gave her the stare.

  She stared right back.

  Eventually he made a decision. ‘Go to the law,’ he sai
d. ‘Tell them what you like. I don’t care. Where’s the evidence?’

  ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘that’s the thing. She dropped the gun, didn’t she? Panicking, I suppose. She just left it there in the gutter for anyone to find. Seemed a shame, so I picked it up and took it home. You don’t have to worry; I’ve got it somewhere safe. And you can have it – for a price.’

  ‘I don’t like blackmailers.’

  Elsa screwed up her face. ‘That’s a nasty word. We’re not talking blackmail here, just a friendly deal. I got to thinking recently that it was quite a favour I did, keeping quiet about everything. No trouble for anyone. But these are hard times and I reckon I’m owed. A favour for a favour, right? I’m not being greedy. A couple of grand, that’s all I’m asking.’

  ‘In your dreams.’

  ‘Oh, I think it’s a fair price. I mean, it’s not just the law you have to worry about; there’s Pat Hull too. I’m sure he’d be interested in finding out who topped his brother.’

  ‘You think I care about Pat Hull?’

  ‘Nice try, but we both know the bloke’s a psychopath. He’s an eye-for-an-eye type, wouldn’t you say? It could get kind of messy. Look, why don’t you think about it and get back to me? Sleep on it, perhaps. You know where to find me.’

  Elsa left the pub feeling pleased with herself. She was one step nearer to a nice little windfall. It was always tricky doing this kind of business, but she reckoned she’d held her own. In a few days’ time, she was sure she’d have her money.

  24

  Judith hadn’t liked lying to Annie, but telling her the truth had seemed an even more daunting prospect. She didn’t want to have to explain something she hadn’t yet come to terms with herself. Since finding out that Dan was still alive, she had barely even cried. It was easier to keep a stiff upper lip in the company of strangers, but she was scared of breaking down, of falling apart, if she tried to explain everything to her friend.

  In the end she had simply told her that nothing had come of the visit to London, but that it had been tiring and upsetting and she’d decided to take more time off work to go and stay with a former work colleague who lived in Ripon.

  ‘Just for a week or two until I get back on my feet again.’

  Annie had been fully supportive of this plan, but less impressed by the decision to give up the flat. ‘But why? Why move out?’

  ‘Because I’ll always be reminded of him if I stay. It’s too full of memories. No, it’s time to move on, get somewhere new. I’m sure I can find a flat close by.’

  ‘What about Charlotte? She’ll be home at the weekend. What am I going to tell her?’

  ‘You don’t need to tell her anything. I’ve written a letter. It’ll be there by the time she gets back.’

  ‘Have you told her about London?’

  Judith had pulled a face. ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Or in plain language, no.’

  ‘What’s the point? It’s over and done with. I just want to put it behind me.’

  Annie had understood that Charlotte would fuss and worry, and had perhaps been quietly pleased to be in charge of a secret. ‘All right. I won’t say a word, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Judith had experienced a moment of doubt during this conversation. Maybe she had made too many hasty decisions, knee-jerk responses she hadn’t thought through. But it was too late for regrets now. She was already on the train, heading for London. It had been her intention to wait, to gather some strength before returning to the city, but somehow that plan had fallen by the wayside. With the practicalities taken care of – notice given on the flat, her job resignation, and Annie agreeing to hold on to the trunk in case the tenancy ran out before she got back – all that was left was to face her demons.

  She sighed into the emptiness of the train compartment. Yes, Ivor Doyle was certainly a demon, something dark and dangerous and damaging. But she wasn’t going to back down and let him walk all over her. Her hands balled into two tight fists. Did he think he’d seen the back of her, successfully packed her off never to bother him again? Well, he had another think coming. She would be like one of those Furies in Greek mythology, an avenger of wrongdoing, an angry spirit of justice and vengeance.

  Judith was feeling more frazzled than furious by the time she finally made it to Kellston. There had been a long delay on the run-in to Euston. A body on the line. The thought of it had made her queasy.

  ‘A jumper, probably,’ one of the men in the compartment had said, with a kind of weariness that suggested it wasn’t that uncommon an occurrence.

  She wondered what level of desperation it took to do such a thing. Or maybe it was simply a sense of emptiness: nothing to get up for in the morning, nothing to keep on going for. She feared that bleakness, sensed that it hovered on the horizon, waiting for her when her anger was spent. She tried to shake the thought from her mind, but it lingered there like a quiet dread.

  It was mid afternoon, just after three o’clock, when she walked out of the train station, glanced warily across the road towards Sycamore House and then headed up the high street. The afternoon was cool and cloudy, for which she was grateful. Her suitcase was heavy, and she frequently shifted it from one hand to the other. She needed a place to stay, preferably somewhere clean and inexpensive, and was hoping that Elsa could point her in the right direction.

  Elsa was the main reason she’d decided to base herself in Kellston again, that and the fact that it was relatively cheap. It was a disappointment, therefore, to see no sign of her as she stepped into the café. An older lady, grey-haired, was waiting on tables. Judith took a seat by the window. She ordered a cup of tea when the woman came over, and asked, ‘Is Elsa not working?’

  ‘She’ll be back in tomorrow.’

  Judith thought that was just her luck, to have walked halfway up the high street only to find that Elsa wasn’t here. With no other choice, she turned to the woman for help instead. ‘I don’t suppose you know of any B and Bs round here?’

  ‘Oh, you’ll be wanting Station Road,’ came the reply. ‘There’s plenty there. A whole row of them.’

  If Mrs Jolly had done her worst, Judith knew she wouldn’t be welcome in any of those establishments. ‘I was looking for somewhere quieter, really. Off the main road, perhaps?’

  The waitress thought about it. ‘Well now, I suppose you could try Silverstone Road. I think there’s a couple down there.’

  ‘Is that far away?’

  ‘Straight down the road, on past the station and it’s second on your left.’

  Judith, although distinctly underwhelmed at the prospect of having to lug her case all the way back down the high street, smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll try there.’

  While she sipped her tea, she wondered how far Mrs Jolly’s gossip might have travelled. It made her nervous to imagine knocking on a door only to be turned away as soon as she gave her name because her reputation had preceded her. No, that was just ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she was on the list of London’s Most Wanted. But however much she reasoned with herself, the worry continued to gnaw at her.

  By the time Judith left Connolly’s, it had started to rain, a thin mizzle that didn’t look like much but which seeped under her collar and made her feel cold and shivery. She stopped to put up her umbrella, and glanced over at the green. Elsa didn’t live that far away. Would it be rude to drop by uninvited? She decided to risk it.

  Walking as quickly as she could with the case weighing her down, she crossed the road and cut across the grass, averting her eyes from the wooden bench. A few minutes later, she was in Barley Road. She went to the house on the corner, descended the rickety metal staircase and knocked on the door. There was every chance, she thought, that Elsa wouldn’t be here. The girl was probably out and about, shopping or meeting friends. She prepared herself for disappointment.

  It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, when she heard movement from inside, shortly followed by the sound of a bolt drawing back. Elsa smi
led widely when she saw her.

  ‘Hello, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.’

  ‘Unfinished business,’ Judith said. ‘Look, I’m sorry to call by unannounced, only—’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. Get out of the rain. Come in, come in.’

  Judith shook her brolly before following her inside. ‘I’m looking for a B and B, but I can’t go back to Station Road. I was wondering if you knew anywhere decent round here.’

  ‘I’ll make a brew and have a think. Or would you rather have something stronger? I’ve got whisky if you’d like one.’

  Judith turned down both offers. She was having enough trouble keeping her emotions in check without adding alcohol to the mix. ‘No thanks, really, I’m fine. I just had a cup of tea in the café.’

  ‘Well, sit down and make yourself comfortable. Sorry the place is a bit of a mess. I’ve been doing some packing. I’m moving out in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘You’re going?’ It was a blow for Judith. Elsa was the closest thing to a friend she had here, and now she was about to lose her. ‘I didn’t realise. Are you leaving London, or just here?’

  ‘London. I’m sick of it, to be honest.’

  Her words evoked a memory in Judith’s mind: Dan standing by the window in the offices of Gillespie & Tate. You can get tired of a place. It can wear you down. She felt the dull thump of her heart. If only he’d chosen a different firm of solicitors. If only she’d never met him in the first place. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. Abroad, I think. Somewhere warm. Morocco, maybe. I’ve heard it’s wild over there.’ Elsa must have seen a change in Judith’s expression, because she quickly added, ‘But not right now. I’ll probably be here for as long as you are, so anything I can do to help …’