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

by Roberta Kray

  ‘But she is involved whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Only if you make it that way. I didn’t leave you for her if that’s what you’re thinking. We didn’t meet up until a long time after.’

  ‘Meet up again,’ she said. ‘She was an old girlfriend, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Who have you been talking to?’

  Judith didn’t answer him directly. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all. You can’t be surprised by that.’

  ‘What I’m surprised about is that you’re here. Why are you wasting your time like this?’

  ‘It’s my time to waste. I can do what I want with it. And you haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘All right, yes, she was. We used to go out. We were a couple. We split up, I left London and that was that. Happy now?’

  ‘I’m not sure if that’s the word I’d use, exactly.’

  ‘What do you want from me? I can’t change the past, what I did. It’s done with. I understand you want to punish me, so just get it over with. Go to the cops and have me arrested.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want to put you in prison.’

  ‘So what do you want?’

  ‘Some answers, for God’s sake. It’s what I keep telling you. I used to know you, Dan but …’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘Ivor. I can’t get used to calling you that.’

  ‘You don’t need to get used to it,’ he said, with unnecessary cruelty.

  ‘Thank you for reminding me.’ She glared at him for a moment. ‘The thing is, you know I wouldn’t have judged you for what happened in the war. I’d have listened. I’d have understood. But you never gave me that opportunity; you just gave up on us.’

  Her words seemed to touch him. His voice softened, and there was a sadness in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. ‘You think you could have coped with it, but you couldn’t. There was only one way for me to make a living after I deserted – and it wasn’t on the right side of the law. You wouldn’t have wanted that kind of life.’

  ‘But Nell does?’

  ‘Nell grew up around villains; she knows the score.’

  ‘So that’s how you make a living, is it? Stealing from other people.’

  ‘That’s about the sum of it.’

  Judith found it almost impossible to associate this man with the one she had fallen in love with. It was as though an impostor had stolen Dan’s face and voice and mannerisms, a stranger she had nothing in common with. Or maybe Dan had only been an actor, playing a part for a while – the loving, dutiful husband – before moving on to the next drama.

  ‘How did you get my address?’ he asked.

  She shrugged, not prepared to tell him about Saul Hannah. ‘It wasn’t that hard. You can find out anything if you really want to.’

  He picked up a teaspoon and played with it, tapping the bowl against the white tablecloth. ‘Are you going to tell Nell?’

  That was something else she wasn’t prepared to divulge. First, she’d check out his story and see if the girl really was ill. There was every chance that Doyle was playing her. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Don’t play games, Judith. They always end badly.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’

  He gave a thin smile. ‘I’d never do that. Just a friendly warning. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re messing with. Go home. Haven’t you got a job to get back to?’

  ‘As it happens, I haven’t. I don’t work for Gillespie and Tate any more. But there are plenty of lawyers in London. I’m sure I’ll find something soon.’

  Anger flashed in Ivor Doyle’s eyes. ‘You can’t stay here.’

  ‘You can’t stop me. It’s a free country, apparently.’

  ‘Do you want money? Is that it? Tell me how much.’

  Judith gave an empty laugh. The offer made her hate him even more. ‘You’re a joke. Do you really think you can pay me off? How much is an illegal wife worth these days?’

  ‘I’ve told you everything you want to know. What more do you want?’

  ‘You haven’t told me half of it.’

  He sighed, threw the spoon onto the tablecloth and folded his arms across his chest. ‘We’ve been over this. I left the hospital, came back to London, looked up Alf Tombs and asked him for work. Later, I bumped into Nell and we got together. There, that’s it. I could pad it out, but what’s the point?’

  ‘The devil’s in the detail,’ she said.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  Judith wanted to hear some hint of regret, of remorse, but there wasn’t any. ‘I had the right to know you were still alive.’

  ‘Of course you did, but I took the coward’s way out. I’m a miserable bastard, a waste of space. What do you want me to do about it now? Say I’m sorry? All right, I’m sorry.’

  Judith curled her lip. It was the kind of hollow apology that meant nothing.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘What’s the big mystery? You know where I am; why shouldn’t I know where you are?’

  Judith inferred some menace from the question. She kept her answer vague. ‘With a friend.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had any friends in London.’

  ‘Why would you?’

  He unfolded his arms, took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one. ‘You’re not at a B and B, then?’

  ‘Well, I could hardly go back to Sycamore House, could I? Not after what you did. I mean, I know you wanted to get rid of me, but that was just plain nasty.’

  He gazed at her blankly. ‘You’ve lost me. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Why is it that every time you open your mouth, I feel like a lie comes out?’

  ‘Maybe you’re getting paranoid in your old age.’

  ‘Or maybe I’m just getting smarter.’

  He took a drag on the cigarette, exhaled and peered at her through the smoke. ‘I don’t think a smart person would stay in London.’

  ‘What you think or don’t think is meaningless to me.’

  ‘You start stirring things up and—’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘Believe me, I’m just trying to protect you.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Better late than never, huh? I’m not stringing you a line. You don’t understand this world, not the one I exist in. It’s different to yours. If you’re not careful, it’ll eat you up and swallow you alive.’

  Judith knew it wasn’t her he was trying to protect, but Nell. ‘I’ll take my chances.’

  ‘You shouldn’t.’

  She watched him smoke, watched his mouth, listened to him trying to persuade her to leave. The more he tried, the more determined she became to stay put. So long as she was getting under his skin, she was happy. It was a small victory, but better than nothing.

  ‘So, this friend of yours. Are they in Kellston?’

  Judith didn’t reply.

  He smoked some more of his cigarette. ‘Think how much happier you’d be if you could just let go.’

  ‘I believe what you mean is how much happier you’d be.’

  ‘You’ve got cynical, Judith. You never used to be like that.’

  ‘I wonder why that is?’

  He left a short silence. ‘So where do we go from here?’

  It was a reasonable question, but not one Judith knew the answer to.

  27

  The skin on Maud Bishop’s hands was red and cracked from the lunchtime washing-up; pots, pans, plates, cups and cutlery had all passed through the sink she was leaning over. Still, it was a job, so she wasn’t complaining. It put food in the babies’ mouths and kept the bailiffs at bay. Course, she had to pay for someone to take care of the kids while she was at work, but there was still a small profit at the end of it. She’d have preferred to be waiting on tables – the waitresses got to keep their tips – but w
ith her face in the state it was in, she’d only have put the customers off their food.

  She was counting down the days now until Mick and Pat Hull went out on the Heathrow job. But she wasn’t counting her chickens. Things could go wrong and frequently did. The heist could get cancelled if something didn’t smell right or someone fell sick or the plane didn’t bring in the goods it was supposed to. She ran through all these possibilities in her head as if the procedure of listing them could somehow prevent them from happening.

  ‘Please, God,’ she murmured, ‘make it a goer.’

  Elsa came into the kitchen and dumped another tray by the sink. ‘You talking to yourself, Maud?’

  ‘No law against it last time I looked.’

  ‘You got something on your mind?’

  ‘Nothing for you to be bothered about.’

  Elsa laughed. ‘Mind my own business, in other words.’ But she didn’t take her own advice and continued, ‘Your Mick giving you grief again?’

  ‘When doesn’t he?’

  ‘You shouldn’t have to put up with it. If I was you, I’d get the hell out of Kellston: pack your stuff, pick up your kids and run for the hills. That bastard’s never going to change.’

  Maud stared at her wide-eyed, wondering if she knew or had somehow guessed about her plans. ‘What?’

  ‘You can’t just sit around waiting for him to go down again. It might never happen. Although it probably will. He’s not what you’d call a genius, is he? But in the meantime, you’re stuck with him. You deserve better, love. You know you do.’ Elsa paused and then said, ‘What’s the matter? You look white as a sheet.’

  Maud fiddled with a greasy strand of hair that had come loose. ‘Nothin’,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just hot in here. Don’t you think? Or maybe it’s just me. I’ve been a bit under the weather lately.’

  ‘Christ, you’re not up the duff again, are you?’

  And now Maud had something else to worry about. She was due any day but didn’t have the usual symptoms, the bloating and the tender breasts. She shook her head, hoping that she wasn’t pregnant. She sent up the same desperate prayer every month – God must be sick and tired of it by now – but she couldn’t cope with another kid. Four was enough, more than enough. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Only there’s things you can do if you are. You don’t have to have another one.’

  Maud knew what she meant, a back-street abortion, but they didn’t come cheap. They were risky, too. Theresa Buchan had bled to death after some woman had ripped her baby out of her. ‘And where would I find that kind of money?’

  ‘I could help you out,’ Elsa said.

  ‘Since when did you have money to throw around?’

  ‘It wouldn’t exactly be throwing it around, would it? I’ve got a bit coming my way in a week or two. A legacy from an aunt who died. It’s not what you’d call a fortune, but I could spare a few quid to help you out.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned an aunt.’

  ‘I hardly ever saw her. She lived on the Isle of Man. Just let me know, right? And the sooner the better. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late.’

  Maud was never sure what to make of Elsa. She could be sharp-tongued and sarcastic one minute, sweet as pie the next. Truth was, Maud didn’t really trust her. The woman had what her mother would have called ‘side’.

  Elsa moved closer and said softly, ‘You ever think about that Lennie business?’

  Maud stiffened. ‘What are you talking about that for?’ she hissed. ‘It was years ago.’

  ‘Because it’s not the kind of thing you forget in a hurry. Doesn’t it worry you that Nell might say something?’

  ‘Why would she?’

  Elsa shrugged. ‘Why do crazy people do anything? She’s not right in the head. She might spill her guts, confess to one of those doctors she sees. You haven’t told anyone, have you?’

  ‘Who would I tell? My Mick? He’d bloody kill me.’ Maud glanced over her shoulder, making sure they were still alone. ‘What’s going on? Have you heard something?’

  Elsa shook her head. ‘No. I’d have said if I had.’

  ‘So there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’ Maud dried her shaking hands on a cloth, wondering what was going on. ‘I mean, you got rid of the gun, so … You did get rid of it, didn’t you, Elsa?’

  ‘Course I did. I told you. It’s been sitting at the bottom of the Thames for five years. Even if it was dredged up, there’d be nothing to connect it to Lennie’s murder.’

  ‘So that’s that. And if Nell was going to tell, she’d have done it by now.’

  ‘You’re probably right. So long as we both keep quiet, it’ll be fine.’

  Maud heard a hint of accusation in her tone and snapped straight back, ‘You think you need to tell me that? I ain’t said a word, never have and never will. You reckon I’m the sort to go shooting my mouth off? Well, I ain’t and that’s the beginning and end of it.’

  ‘All right, keep your hair on. I’m not saying you would. But if anyone comes in, starts asking questions, make sure you let me know.’

  ‘Why would anyone be doing that after all this time?’

  ‘I don’t suppose they will.’ Elsa scratched the back of her neck. ‘I don’t know. I’ve just got a bad feeling. I dare say it’s nothing, just one of those weird things. You know how you get the jitters sometimes? They kind of creep up on you. It’s been on my mind, that’s all. I keep going over it.’

  Maud had never seen Elsa get the jitters over anything. Even during the Blitz, after a bomb had dropped two hundred yards down the road, she’d still been cool as a cucumber. It made her wonder what the girl was up to. ‘You sure you ain’t heard nothin’?’

  ‘I haven’t, I swear. Don’t worry.’ Elsa picked up a pile of clean trays. ‘Look, I’d better get back to work before John starts creating.’

  Maud watched her go, her eyes full of suspicion. They shared a secret and she wished they didn’t. Even after five years it still made her feel nervous and unsettled. Elsa was a law unto herself and God alone knew what went on in that head of hers. One thing was certain, though: if Pat Hull got wind of what they’d done, they’d both be dead meat.

  28

  Jimmy Taylor had a new, self-important swagger. He was one of the chosen and he was going places. Well, perhaps not very far at the moment – he was only walking the streets of Kellston, knocking on doors – but it still felt like a mighty step up. Alf Tombs had asked him to find the redhead, Judith Jonson, and he didn’t intend to let the gang boss down. In his eyes it was a privilege to have been asked to do it – and a foot in the door when it came to joining the firm.

  He had, however, spent hours going from one B&B to another with no success. She had to be somewhere close by. He had seen her turn the corner into the high street. Trouble was, there were a lot of B&Bs in the district and finding the one she was staying in was proving harder than expected.

  Every time he knocked, smiled and asked if Judith Jonson was booked in, he got the same reply.

  ‘Sorry, there’s no one by that name staying here.’

  He was starting to wonder if she was using a different name. After Mrs Jolly had chucked her out, she could have been worried that other landladies would do the same. That would make her a bugger to find. And what if she’d caught a bus and gone somewhere else: Shoreditch or Hoxton, maybe? Christ, he could spend the rest of his life looking and never get a sniff of her. But no, he felt in his guts that she was still in Kellston.

  It occurred to him to try the caff. That was where she’d been on the evening he’d followed her. He crossed the road, went inside and sat down at a table. A dark-haired girl came over to serve him. He’d seen her around but didn’t know what she was called.

  ‘Get us a brew, love,’ he said. ‘And, er, I’m looking for a friend of mine, a redhead, name of Judith Jonson. Don’t suppose you’ve seen her, have you? She comes in here from time to time.’

  ‘Lots of
people do,’ the waitress said.

  ‘She’s not been in Kellston long. She’s from up north. Red hair, yeah? Ring any bells?’

  ‘Why are you looking for her?’

  ‘Like I said, she’s a friend.’

  ‘You should know where to find her, then.’

  Jimmy didn’t care for the way she was talking to him, all sarcastic like she thought he was a joke. ‘Have you seen her or not?’

  ‘No.’

  He didn’t believe her. ‘You sure about that? Red hair. About the same age as you.’

  ‘It gets busy in here. One face is much the same as another. Sorry.’

  Jimmy watched her walk back to the counter with his order. The bitch was lying, he was certain of it. But knowing that didn’t help him any. There were times when he hated bloody women, the way they talked down to him, the way they looked straight through him as though he wasn’t even there. The waitress needed a good slap, something to teach her a lesson. That way she’d think twice about lying to him again.

  While he waited for his brew, he took pleasure in the thought. All he wanted was a bit of respect. It wasn’t too much to ask. Instead what he got was smart talk and sneering. He wondered what it would be like to throttle a woman, to watch the breath slowly leak out of her. Good, he reckoned. It was what most of them deserved. That Judith Jonson was a prize cow too. Maybe Alf had something unpleasant in store for her. Shit, he hoped so.

  The caff was starting to empty now that lunch was over. The man behind the counter spoke to the waitress, calling her Elsa, and he heard her reply, ‘I’m off in fifteen minutes, John. Can’t you get Maud to do it?’

  This gave Jimmy an idea. He could follow her, find out where she lived and perhaps use a more persuasive method to get her to talk. A few threats would probably do the trick, nothing too heavy, just a hint that the man he was working for didn’t like being messed about. She wouldn’t be so cocky then, that was for sure.

  He quickly drank his tea, left the money on the table and headed back outside. With no clue as to what direction Elsa might take, he dithered for a while before crossing the road to the green and parking his backside on a bench, from where there was a clear view of the door to the caff. He was going to be late back to work, but he didn’t care. Some things were more important than cutting keys.