‘Are you OK, boy? Where you been shot?’ asked Jimmy.
Tears were streaming down Jed’s face as he looked up. ‘Lukey’s dead, Dad, he’s gone.’
Alice breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Georgie girl and Harry huddled together. They were sitting on a grave crying. Desperate to find Jed, she ran past them. Sally was lying in a crumpled heap on the grass. ‘Sally, where’s Jed and Luke?’
Sally sat up in a dazed state. She’d vomited when she’d seen Jed covered in blood, then she must have passed out. ‘Jed’s been shot, Alice,’ she whimpered.
‘Jed! Where’s my boy?’ Alice screamed hysterically.
‘Jed’s OK. He’s sitting up,’ someone yelled.
Alice helped Sally up and, with the sound of sirens nearing, they both pushed their way through the crowd.
Spotting his wife, Jimmy stood up. Lukey boy had taken a bullet through his skull and he couldn’t let Alice see him like that, it would crucify her.
As Jimmy tried to lead her away, Alice pushed him as hard as she could. ‘I wanna see my baby. Jed, are you OK?’ she yelled.
‘Please, Alice, Sally, don’t move any closer,’ Jimmy warned.
Desperate to comfort both her son and Jed, Sally ducked under Jimmy’s arm. ‘Jed! Luke!’ she screamed.
Weeping tears of pure pain, Jed was still sitting on the ground with Luke clutched to his chest. ‘I love you, boy. I love you so much,’ he wept.
Realising for the first time that it was her son who had copped the bullet, Sally let out a piercing scream. ‘Let me see him. Let me hold my baby,’ she shrieked.
The police and paramedics urged the crowd to move out of the way, and then witnessed a scene that would stay with most of them for the rest of their lives. Two hysterical parents sitting on the ground, cradling their dead son was a picture most of them had witnessed in the past. But the boy literally having had his brains blown out at a family funeral was a shock to virtually all of them.
In Whitechapel, Gary and Ricky were upstairs in Joanie’s house. They were in the room they used for their meetings and, since Gary’s return, they’d already necked half a litre of neat Scotch between them. Neither were drunk, just in a state of stupefied shock over what had happened.
Ricky glanced at his watch and then stared at the phone. Their dad was due to ring soon, and then the shit would really hit the fan.
Gary jumped as the phone rang a few moments later. His hands shook as he lifted the receiver.
Eddie immediately launched into their pre-planned code. ‘Is Joanie OK? Has she sobered up?’ he asked, fully expecting Gary to say yes.
‘No, she’s not OK,’ Gary croaked.
Ed’s heart skipped a beat. Surely Gary hadn’t bottled it, or fucked things up. ‘Do you want me to pop up and see her?’ Ed asked. This meant, Is the coast clear?
‘Yes, come up and see her,’ Gary replied.
Gina was watching the episode of Blind Date she’d recorded the previous weekend. ‘Where you going? You aren’t driving, are you?’ she said, as Ed snatched his keys off the coffee table.
‘I’ve got to pop out. Joanie ain’t well,’ Ed lied.
‘Be careful, you’ve had a lot to drink today.’
Ed pecked her on the lips. ‘I’ll try not to be long.’
‘Oh, Ed, Raymond just rang on the landline while you were upstairs. Says it’s urgent, he wants you to call him back.’
Eddie slammed the front door. If Gary was at Joanie’s he obviously hadn’t got nicked, so what the fuck had gone wrong? Wondering if Raymond had heard something through the grapevine, Eddie got in the motor and punched in his number.
‘Ray, it’s me. What’s up?’
‘Have you heard what happened, Ed? At O’Hara’s son’s funeral?’
Eddie went cold. ‘No, what?’
‘Someone tried to shoot Jed, but killed his son, Luke, instead. Pat Murphy told Dougie, and Dougie rang me. Pat Murphy was at the funeral, said it was fucking chaos. The kid took the bullet straight throught the head, apparently. Gruesome, eh?’
Ed dropped the phone in shock. What in God’s name had Gary done?
Auntie Joan glanced at her pattern, then checked how many stitches she’d cast on. ‘Shit,’ she mumbled, as she realised she’d made a cock-up. Chucking her knitting on a nearby chair, Joan walked over to the TV and turned the volume up. Gary and Ricky were still upstairs and she knew by their mood and demeanour that something had gone dreadfully wrong.
Deciding to make herself a mug of Horlicks, Joan went into the kitchen. Seconds later the newreader’s voice made her jump in shock.
‘Police are hunting the killer of a four-year-old boy who was gunned down in a gangland-style shooting at Upminster Cemetery earlier today. Detectives particularly want to trace the driver of a white BMW, registration . . .’
Joan stopped listening as the doorbell rang. She turned the TV off and peeped through the net curtain. It was only Eddie, thank God.
‘Where are they?’ Ed asked, his face as black as thunder.
‘Upstairs. Do you wanna cup of tea, love?’ Joan replied.
Eddie ignored Joan’s question and flew up the stairs. He ran into the room and grabbed Gary by the neck.
‘What the fuck have you done?’ he screamed.
Gary’s face turned red with fury. ‘Get off me, I ain’t done nothing.’
Ed let go of his eldest boy, slumped on a chair and poured himself a Scotch. ‘How could you be so stupid? You know how to shoot, so how the hell did you manage to kill the cunting kid?’
Gary looked at his father in total amazement. ‘What kid? What you on about?’
‘Jed’s kid, Luke. The kid you fucking shot.’
‘It weren’t me. I was staring through the rifle waiting for ’em to get nearer to the grave when all hell broke loose. I heard the gunshots and then I saw Jed slump to the floor. I thought he’d been shot. I panicked and legged it.’
Eddie stared his son in the eyes. Gary wouldn’t lie to him, so he had to be telling the truth. ‘So, if it weren’t you that fired the shot, who was it, then?’
Gary shook his head. ‘I ain’t got a clue, Dad, but I swear on mine and Ricky’s life, it wasn’t me.’
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
After a sleepless night, Eddie got up at 6 a.m. The events of the previous day felt like a bad dream, and Ed found it difficult to understand how somebody else had turned up at the cemetery with the intention to kill at the same time as Gary. Perhaps Jed and the O’Haras had lots of enemies, but yesterday’s coincidence was one that Eddie could have bloody well done without.
Ed made a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Even though Gary had panicked when he’d seen what had happened, at least he’d had the sense to carry out the rest of the plan as though he’d fired the shot himself. The leathers and helmet had now been burned, and the bike had been crushed. The rifle was hidden where nobody would ever find it, but that didn’t matter so much, as the police would know by the bullet what type of gun had been used to kill Luke and, providing Gary was telling the truth, it most certainly wasn’t his.
Eddie thought about Frankie. Larry had managed to pull some strings behind the scenes at Chelmsford Crown Court, and it was looking highly favourable that she would be out on bail later this afternoon. The only problem now was, with Jed still alive, there was a chance she wouldn’t get her kids back.
The shrill ring of his phone made Eddie jump. Nobody ever rang this early, which could only mean one thing – bad news.
‘Ed, it’s Larry.’
‘What’s up, mate?’ Eddie asked.
‘I’ve got some news for you. I’m just checking you’re at home; I’m on my way over.’
Eddie ended the call, and put his head in his hands. If whoever had murdered Luke had ballsed up Frankie’s chances of getting bail, he would personally fucking kill them.
Over in Holloway, Frankie was also suffering from insomnia. She’d tried counting sheep and all sorts last night, but
her mind was full of worry, and sleep just wouldn’t come. She sat up and hugged her knees. DI Blyth had paid her a visit yesterday and Frankie had tricked her into admitting the kids were with Jed. She’d pretended that Joey had told her the night before and Blyth had believed her. Frankie was furious with Joey and Kerry for lying to her. Finding out for sure that her kids were missing had tipped her fragile state of mind over the edge and Frankie had decided to banish both of them from her life from now on. That would teach them to tell wicked lies.
Thinking of the day ahead, Frankie sighed. Larry had come to see her again yesterday, and assured her once more that he was certain she would get bail. Frankie trusted Larry: trouble was, her luck was cursed at the moment and she could only hope and pray that he was right.
‘You awake early, sister Frankie. Come scratch my back, Killer got a bad itch.’
Frankie obediently did as Killer asked. Larry had told her under no circumstances could she afford to get into trouble in prison while he was trying to sort out her bail.
‘Wrong spot, Frankie. Scratch lower, by my ass.’
Feeling sick as Killer lowered her pyjama bottoms, Frankie shut her eyes as she carried on scratching. Since finding out that her kids had been snatched, she had wanted to smash Killer’s ugly face in, but couldn’t because of her bail application.
Sick of being taken for an idiot, Frankie opened her eyes and walked away.
‘Where you going? I ain’t said you can stop yet.’
‘I have to start getting ready for court. They’ll be coming to collect me soon.’
Killer grinned. ‘You ain’t going nowhere, sister Frankie. You’ll be coming back ’ere to be Killer’s slave for the rest of your days.’
Frankie defiantly shook her head. ‘My solicitor has told me I’ll definitely get bail. I’m going home to see my children.’
Laughing loudly, Killer propped herself up on her elbow. ‘You got a lot to learn, sister. All solicitors are lying motherfuckers. They tell you what you wanna hear. I bet you you be back here tonight, curled up in dat bunk.’
‘No, no, I won’t,’ Frankie screamed.
Laughing even louder, Killer carried on taunting Frankie. ‘Yes, yes, you will, and if you ain’t, my name is Whitney fucking Houston.’
After ending the call to Larry, Eddie had rung Gary and Ricky and got them out of bed. ‘Get your arses over here ASAP,’ he ordered.
Gary and Ricky arrived within the hour. Larry lived in Sussex, and Ed was pleased to have some time with his sons so they could discuss things before Larry arrived.
‘Maybe he’s found out who did it. When you’d left last night, Auntie Joan mentioned the murder – she’d seen it on the news. She said police were hunting for a white BMW,’ Gary told Eddie.
‘Why didn’t you fucking tell me this before?’ Eddie shouted.
‘Because you told us not to ring you. You said it weren’t safe to speak over the phone in case we were suspects,’ Gary shouted back.
Woken up by the shouting, Gina made her way downstairs and opened the kitchen door. ‘Whatever’s going on?’ she asked.
‘Nothing. Listen, babe, do you mind going back upstairs for a bit? Larry’s on his way over and we’ve got some important business to discuss.’
Gina smiled. She understood Eddie more than any woman probably ever had in the past. ‘I’ll go and have a shower, then I’ve got to pop to Tesco’s. I need to do a big food shop,’ she said brightly.
Ricky waited until Gina had shut the door before continuing the conversation.
‘Look, there’s no point us jumping down each other’s throats. We don’t even know what news Larry has got. It might be good news, for all we know.’
Eddie shook his head. ‘It ain’t. I clocked it in his voice.’
Joey and Dominic arrived at their grandparents’ house at 8 a.m. Joyce had ordered them to arrive early so she could cook them a good English breakfast to set them up for the day. Both lads felt a bit worse for wear from Joanie’s birthday bash, but they’d still made it on time.
‘I can’t smell no bacon, Nan. We’re starving,’ Joey joked as he walked into the kitchen. Even though he had to attend his sister’s bail hearing later, Joey was in an upbeat mood. Yesterday, his dad had been adamant that Frankie was coming home and Joey knew his dad well enough to know that if he said something like that, he meant it.
‘Raymond’s on his way over. He’ll be here soon, and then I’ll make us some grub,’ Joyce said.
‘Where’s Grandad?’ Joey asked.
‘Where do ya think? Outside playing with his cock.’
Dominic burst out laughing. Joycie had a way with words and he found her highly entertaining.
Joyce smirked, then put on her serious expression. ‘We shouldn’t be laughing and joking you know, not until we know we’ve got Frankie home safely and she’s got them kids back.’
Joey hugged his nan. He knew that she and his grandad were worried about the outcome of today, which is why he and Dominic had come over early and offered to accompany them to the court.
‘I spoke to Dad yesterday. Frankie’s bail is a done deal, Nan, and she’s getting the kids back,’ Joey whispered.
Joyce grinned. ‘That’s brilliant news, Joey. Fan-bleedin-tastic!’
Gary and Ricky sat in silence as Eddie led Larry into the kitchen. Their father had been right to fear bad news. Larry’s expression was sombre, and the look on his face said everything.
‘Do you want a tea or coffee?’ Eddie asked nervously.
‘You’d best get the brandy out. You’re going to need it when you hear what I’ve got to say,’ Larry replied.
Sick of playing games, Eddie smashed his fist on the kitchen table. ‘Just spit it out, Lal, will ya?’
‘The police have made an arrest. They’ve got the guys who killed Jed’s son.’
Eddie shrugged. He was just relieved that nobody had spotted Gary and suspected them of the dirty deed. ‘So, what’s that got to do with me?’ he asked casually.
‘Everything, Eddie. It was Paulie and Ronny that did it. They killed Luke and the police have apparently got them bang to rights.’
Unable to stomach listening to the ins and outs of Auntie Joan’s birthday party, Stanley put his breakfast onto a tray and took it into the living room.
‘Don’t you turn my Eamonn off, Stanley,’ Joyce shouted out.
Out of view of his wife’s beady eyes, Stanley stuck two fingers up on both hands and poked his tongue out. Ever since GMTV had started earlier that year, his wife had a habit of turning the volume up and listening to the poxy programme while pottering about in the kitchen. As for that Eamonn Holmes, Joycie fancied him something rotten, and Stanley prayed that one day she’d meet Mr Holmes, run off with him, and leave him to live the rest of his life in bloody peace.
About to take a bite of his sausage, Stanley heard the news item and dropped his knife and fork in shock.
‘Joycie, ’ere, quick,’ he shouted.
Joey and Dominic stood open-mouthed behind Joyce as they listened to the reporter who was stood outside Upminster Cemetery.
‘The murdered boy has been named as four-year-old Luke O’Hara.’
‘That’s Jed’s little boy,’ Joey said gobsmacked.
‘What little boy?’ Joyce asked perplexed.
‘Jed had another kid with a bird called Sally. Frankie knew about it, but forgave him.’
As the newreader began talking about something else, Stanley turned the volume down. ‘You missed the beginning of it. The reporter said that it was a murder that went wrong. He said that the police suspected the gunman was aiming for the child’s father.’
‘Who would shoot a poor, defenceless child? That’s awful,’ Dom whispered.
Stanley pointed at Joey. ‘His father, that’s who.’
Joey was furious. ‘My dad had nothing to do with it. They said it happened yesterday and I was with my dad all day yesterday.’
‘Don’t say things like that to him, you
wicked old bastard,’ Joyce shouted.
For once, Stanley stuck to his guns. ‘Yous lot need to take your rose-tinted glasses off. You mark my words, that killing has Eddie’s name stamped all over it, and if it weren’t him, you can bet he knows who did it.’
Larry left his car at Eddie’s house and travelled to Chelmsford with Ed and the boys. There was lots to discuss and important phone calls to make. Because of Ronny and Paulie’s arrests, Eddie had ordered Gina to go and stay with her friend Claire for a few days until the dust settled. Worried about Eddie’s safety, Gina had flatly refused at first, but Ed had sat her down and had a heart-to-heart with her.
‘Listen, babe. You and Jessica are the only two women I have ever loved in my life. Because of the O’Haras, Jessica is already dead, and I would never forgive myself if I also put your life in danger. Go to Claire’s, at least until I know it’s safe for you to come home.’
Out of his mind with worry, Ed had made sure Gina was gone before he left for the court. He was stunned by his brothers’ arrest and furious at their interference and stupidity. If they’d have killed Jed and got away with it, he’d have shaken their hands with gratitude. But no, as usual, all Paulie and Ronny had done was balls things up and, now they’d been arrested, the O’Haras would be hell-bent on getting revenge for Luke’s death, probably blaming Eddie in the process.
Larry ended his phone call and turned to Eddie. ‘I’ve just spoken to Charlie. He reckons there is no chance that Frankie will get bail now, Eddie, not after everything that’s happened.’
Eddie punched the steering wheel. ‘I haven’t had dealings with either of my brothers in fucking years. What happened yesterday is sod-all to do with me, or Frankie for that matter.’
‘I’m sorry, Eddie, but this isn’t my fault. I really did bend over backwards this week to get Frankie’s bail assured. It wasn’t easy, especially with Dickens’ pals down at Chelmsford. Now this has happened, my hands are tied, I’m afraid. If anyone’s to blame, it’s your brothers, not me.’
‘Sorry, Lal, I’m just so pissed off and upset. I was really looking forward to getting Frankie home. I could have got to the bottom of it, given time, found out what Jed really did to make her stab the bastard. Listen, I need you to do me a favour. Somebody has to inform Frankie what’s happened and I want that person to be me. She already has her suspicions that Jed’s got the kids and I don’t want anyone else telling her. She also needs to know that her uncles have shot Luke.’
The Traitor Page 46
