The Victim

by Kimberley Chambers

  When Gina closed the living-room door, Ed turned to Stuart. ‘That’s it now: I’ve fucking had enough of them O’Haras. I’m gonna arrange a meet with the boys for tomorrow and end this once and for all.’

  After leaving the court, Larry drove straight up to Holloway Prison as previously arranged. He was now sitting in a room waiting to speak to Frankie face to face. Telling Eddie hadn’t been quite as bad as Larry had predicted. He had sort of expected Ed to blame him and Carol for failing to deliver, but he’d been relatively polite, considering what had happened.

  Larry twiddled his thumbs as he waited for Frankie to appear. Telling her that she’d lost the case was going to be awful, and Ed had rung him back to tell him not to be too honest with his daughter.

  ‘Whatever you say, do not tell Frankie that Georgie and Harry told the judge they didn’t want to visit her. Tell her any old bollocks, but not that, Lal, as that will fucking destroy her soul,’ Ed insisted.

  When Frankie was finally led into the room, Larry was expecting hysterics as he relayed the events of the hearing. Her reaction could not have surprised him more. Frankie did not cry, scream, shout or anything. All she did was sit opposite him with a look of hatred on her face and mutter two sentences.

  ‘I want you to ring DI Blyth and tell her I want to see her. You tell her that I’m ready to tell the truth now, and don’t you dare say nothing to my dad.’

  Frankie then stood up and, leaving Larry open-mouthed, calmly walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sally’s funeral was a tearful affair and, as his daughter’s body was lowered into the ground, Terry Baldwin was positive that he felt his heart split in two. Sally was Terry’s only child and he’d literally worshipped the ground she’d walked on. Finding her lifeless body swinging from the ceiling was a sight that would haunt Terry until his dying day. He’d tried everything to revive her, but he’d been too late and he’d never forgive himself for that. If only he’d kept popping upstairs every five or ten minutes; he’d known how depressed she was.

  ‘Shall we make a move now, love? The funeral cars are waiting,’ Anne asked her husband as he crouched down and stared at the flowers once more.

  ‘I’ve checked every one of these cards twice and do you know what? That fucking piece of pikey shit didn’t even bother to send my baby any flowers,’ Terry said, referring to Jed. His daughter and grandson’s demise were all down to Jed, and now Sally’s funeral was over, Terry was determined to make things even.

  Anne linked arms with her husband. Since Sally’s death she’d become increasingly worried about Terry’s rants about revenge and she was concerned that he might do something incredibly stupid.

  ‘Promise me something, Tel,’ she asked him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Promise me that you won’t take the law into your own hands.’

  With sadness etched across his face and tears in his eyes, Terry turned to face Anne. ‘I’m sorry, babe. I can’t make that promise.’

  * * *

  Another person currently discussing the subject of retribution was Eddie Mitchell. He’d organised an emergency meeting at Auntie Joanie’s house and was discussing how, when and where he and the boys were going to pounce.

  ‘What about the mother, though? I mean, if we dispose of Jimmy and Jed, she’ll have custody of the kids, won’t she?’ Raymond said sensibly.

  ‘We’re gonna have to do her in an’ all. We can’t take no chances,’ Ed replied bluntly. He didn’t usually like to involve women in any kind of violence, but in Alice’s case he was willing to make an exception.

  ‘But how we gonna kidnap Jimmy, Jed and Alice without the kids being around? Georgie and Harry are always gonna be in the company of one of them, ain’t they?’ Gary asked.

  ‘We can’t risk the kids seeing anything in case they say something. Fuck me, they’re only nippers and if the Old Bill question ’em, they’re bound to blab and stitch us up,’ Ricky said worriedly.

  Eddie turned to Stuart. He might be a relative newcomer and the youngest member of the firm, but he was as bright as a button and even in the nick, Ed had sought his advice over matters. ‘You got any ideas?’ he asked.

  Deep in thought, Stuart rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘I think the only way to do this is to forget about kidnapping ’em. We’re gonna have to break in their house while they’re sleeping and do it there.’

  Gary and Ricky glanced at one another and laughed sarcastically. Both lads had grown to like Stuart, but they were still slightly jealous of their father’s close relationship with him. Therefore, if they could get a dig in against Stu, then they would.

  ‘What a great idea! Let’s blast ’em away in their beds while the kids are in the house as well,’ Gary said mockingly.

  Ed glared at Gary and mulled over Stuart’s idea. It was dodgy and dangerous, but was there any other valid option? ‘I think Stu has a point. I mean, some cunt broke into my father’s house, murdered him in bed and got away with it, didn’t they? It can be done, providing it’s done properly.’

  ‘Yeah, but Grandad lived alone. There’s five living at the O’Haras’ if you include Georgie and Harry,’ Ricky reminded his father.

  ‘Does anyone know the layout of the house? If Jimmy and Alice sleep in a room that’s nowhere near Jed’s, we might just get away with it. If we break in in the middle of the night and use a silencer, I doubt the kids will wake up,’ Stuart added.

  Gary didn’t like the sound of the idea at all. ‘And what do we do when we’ve killed ’em all? Just fuck off and let the kids find their blood-soaked bodies in the morning?’

  Eddie shrugged. ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  Raymond turned to Eddie. This was beginning to sound proper heavy now. Polly had their first child on the way and he didn’t fancy spending the first twenty years or so of his kid’s life stuck in some poxy prison cell. ‘Ed, Georgie and Harry have already seen that Luke boy murdered. He was shot right in front of ’em, wasn’t he? Can you imagine the trauma they’re gonna endure if they find their dad and grandparents blasted to bits as well?’

  Being the youngest son of a gangland boss, Eddie had been brought up around violence from a very young age and that had made him extremely thick-skinned. ‘The kids are only young – they’ll soon forget about it and get over it,’ he said tactlessly.

  Raymond, Ricky and Gary all glanced at one another. Once Eddie had made up his mind about something, there was usually no turning back.

  ‘I still think the kidnapping idea sounded far more feasible,’ Gary said, hoping his father would see sense.

  Eddie drank the last of his Scotch and angrily slammed his glass against the table. ‘I’ve spent years pussy-footing around the O’Haras and I’ve had a fucking gutful of it. I want ’em dead, all of ’em, and seeing as I run this firm, we’ll do things my way – got it?’

  Ed’s eyes clouding over was always a bad sign, so Raymond, Gary and Ricky all did the sensible thing. One by one they nodded their heads in agreement.

  Over in Holloway, Babs was becoming increasingly worried about Frankie’s venomous behaviour. Usually kind and mild-mannered, Frankie had bitten everybody’s head off that morning, including hers, and had just crowned it all by calling Linda, one of the nicest screws, ‘a nosy, fat cow’.

  As Linda walked off with a hurt expression on her face, Babs sat next to Frankie in the corridor. It was freeflow time and, with the mood Frankie was in, Babs wished they had stayed in their cell.

  ‘Listen, sweet child, I know you’re angry over the court case, but being vile to people ain’t gonna help you get them wonderful babies of yours back. Linda is a lovely woman and she was only trying to be helpful. Where has my best mate gone, eh? The Frankie I know has a truly beautiful soul and I was thinking, is you her twin sister?’ Babs asked jokingly.

  About to crack a smile, Frankie spotted Katie, stood up, and ran towards her. ‘Have you spoken to your cousin yet?’ she asked. She’d managed to speak to Katie a
fter she’d seen Larry the previous day.

  Katie stared at Frankie for a few seconds, then nodded. Ever since she had got the original message to her cousin Danny, Frankie had avoided her like the plague. It was only now that she needed another favour that Frankie was being nice to her again.

  ‘I told Danny last night and he promised to ring Jed today. I’ll call Danny again later and see if he managed to get the message to him for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Katie,’ Frankie said, forcing herself to smile. She wouldn’t rest until she knew that Jed had received her latest threat. She wanted the bastard to suffer just like he’d made her suffer.

  When Katie walked away, Babs walked towards Frankie. ‘You gotta start being nicer to that poor girl. She been good to you and you make it blatantly obvious that you don’t like her.’

  ‘I don’t fucking like her. The way she speaks reminds me of Jed and I still reckon she’s working for him as some sort of spy.’

  Babs shook her head. ‘I think Katie is genuine, and I’m sure you got her all wrong. Why would she help you by getting the messages to Jed if she were on his side?’

  ‘I ain’t got her wrong at all. Them travellers stick together like glue, mate, and do you know what? I bet that lying cow ain’t even got a cousin called Danny. I bet she’s ringing Jed up herself.’

  Babs looked at Frankie with an incredulous expression plastered across her face. ‘Really?’

  Frankie nodded. She was Eddie Mitchell’s daughter and had been bred by the finest when it came to being clued-up about people. She linked arms with Babs. ‘I know exactly what’s going on and, mark my words, I’m right.’

  Jed and Sammy were sat in the White Hart in Rainham. After yesterday’s court case, Jed had gone to a nearby boozer with his parents and children and had rung his cousin to urge him to celebrate with them. Sammy had turned up within the hour with two grams of coke in his pocket. Jed had got the flavour, sent the kids home with his parents, and then he and Sammy had gone off on one of their jaunts. They’d ended up in the Church Elm pub in Dagenham where they’d pulled two birds and stayed the night at theirs in some nearby flats called the Mall.

  ‘So, what was your one like? Did you shag her?’ Sammy asked his cousin.

  ‘Nah, I’d had too much booze,’ Jed lied. For once, the girl he’d pulled would not let him have his wicked way with her and Jed rather respected her for that. Her name was Amanda and the closest he’d got to the deed was a finger and a wank. ‘I thought mine was quite pretty, as it goes. I took her number and I might ring her in a few days. What about yours? Did you give her one?’ Jed asked.

  Sammy grinned. ‘She was a right goer. Stuck her finger up me arse and all sorts.’

  Jed chuckled then quietly sipped his beer. On the journey to the pub, Sammy had informed him that Sally had been laid to rest that morning and even though towards the end of their relationship he had had few feelings for Sally, the news had sort of messed with his head.

  ‘What’s up? You thinking of Sally?’ Sammy asked.

  Jed’s mood had been as bouncy as a trampoline until half an hour ago when Sammy had mentioned her funeral. ‘Nah, not really. I suppose it’s just brought memories of Lukey boy back to me,’ Jed said. He’d never been one to admit his feelings.

  Sammy nodded understandingly. He would never forget the sight of that poor little boy with his brains hanging out as long as he lived. ‘So, what are your plans now? You can’t live with your parents for ever, so why don’t you move back with me?’ Sammy asked, cleverly changing the subject.

  Jed shook his head. When he was with Frankie, he’d lived in a luxurious mobile home next to Sammy on a privately owned piece of land in Wickford. There were two reasons why Jed didn’t want to move back there. The first was that Sammy was still shacked up with Sally’s best mate, Julie, and the second was he had no intention of bringing up the kids alone.

  ‘Nah, don’t fancy going back there. There’s too many memories and most of ’em are bad,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, what you gonna do then? You ain’t still planning to do a runner, are ya?’

  ‘No, that was a prickish idea. I think I’ll just stay put at me mum and dad’s for now. Me mum takes care of the chavvies for me and I don’t want the hassle of it. I suppose I’ll meet another bird I like soon and when I do, I’ll move the trailer somewhere, and get her to look after the chavvies for me.’

  ‘If it’s Julie stopping you coming back to Wickford, just say and I’ll get rid. To be honest, she bores the arse off me lately, so I might pack her off back to Rush Green anyway. She kept the flat on ’cause the social pay for it and she’s renting it to a mate at the moment. I can always chuck the mate out and get her to move back in there. I won’t split up with her because of Tommy boy, but I can just pretend we’re working away and pop round there if and when I wanna see the boy or I fancy a bit,’ Sammy offered.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you, Sammy, I don’t fancy moving back to Wickford whether Julie’s there or not. I wanna start afresh and I also think me and you should start grafting again soon. We ain’t worked for months and I dunno about you, but I’ve spent thousands.’

  Sammy smirked. Years ago he and Jed had earned a crust by getting some mug to steal motors, horse-boxes and caravans for them which they would then doctor and sell on again. More recently though, they’d learned the art of conning vulnerable old people. They referred to it as ‘grunting’, and would befriend their victims by doing odd jobs for them at first. In the past couple of years, they’d robbed some of them blind and, between the two of them, had had three properties left to them and a nice piece of land. Getting their victims to make out a will in their names was easy. They only targeted people who had no close family and lived alone and Sammy absolutely loved their new career.

  ‘So, when we gonna crack on again, then?’ he asked excitedly.

  About to answer, Jed was disturbed by the sound of his mobile phone ringing. His face immediately drained of colour and he quickly ended the call without uttering a word.

  ‘What’s the matter now?’ Sammy asked, concerned.

  ‘I just got another message sent via Frankie. She says I fucked up big time and now she’s gonna make me pay.’

  ‘Don’t take no notice of the silly whore. If she was gonna shop you or me, she wouldn’t be telling us, would she?’ Sammy said reassuringly.

  ‘But, say she does?’

  ‘She won’t, you dinlo. All the fucking slag’s doing is trying to put the fear of God into ya and it’s worked. If she was gonna grass, she’d have done it yonks ago. Now chill out and go and get us another beer, you tight bastard.’

  Jed stood up and walked towards the bar. Past experiences had taught him that people who placed threats of any kind rarely carried them out, so Sammy boy was probably right.

  DI Blyth had had an extremely eventful day. From first thing this morning she had been run off her feet like a blue-arsed fly and it was only now, late afternoon, that she finally had a chance to sit at her desk, have a bite to eat and a coffee and, most importantly, check her answerphone messages. The first five messages were the usual run-of-the-mill rubbish that she encountered every day, but as she listened to the sixth, she spat a mouthful of prawn mayonnaise sandwich into her hand and immediately returned the call.

  ‘Mr Peters, it’s DI Blyth here. You left me a message saying that Francesca Mitchell has some vital information for me.’

  When Larry relayed Frankie’s exact words, DI Blyth felt the blood pumping faster through her veins. She had liked Frankie Mitchell and had always known when she’d interviewed her in relation to stabbing Jed that there was more to her predicament than met the eye.

  ‘I’ll speak to the prison now and will visit Frankie tomorrow, Mr Peters.’

  Ending the call, Blyth picked up the rest of her sandwich and chomped away happily.

  Terry Baldwin pulled up outside the iron fence with the red lettering where he’d been ordered to wait. He’d been instructed to drive to
River Road in Barking, and, as he turned off his engine and headlights, the only sound was that of a ferocious-sounding guard dog barking its bonce off. Terry shivered. He didn’t know whether it was because the area gave him the creeps or the temperature had fallen below zero. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to try and keep them warm, Terry thought of his Sally. He’d kept the wake small, just a few people back at the house. The thought of having a piss-up in the pub was unbearable and he couldn’t have stomached it.

  Terry nearly shat himself with fright as a light was flashed three times through the back window of his motor. He was expecting whoever he was meeting to arrive by car, not on a pushbike with a torch. He got out of the motor and walked towards the guy. He could barely see his face at all, as the bloke had a ski jacket on with a hood up and a scarf covering his mouth.

  ‘Did Jamie send you?’ Terry asked warily. There were no houses for miles and this weirdo could pull any kind of stroke if he wanted to.

  Ignoring Terry’s question, the man pulled a plastic bag from the inside of his jacket and handed it to Terry. Terry took the bag, looked inside to check the contents and handed the weirdo an envelope containing money.

  Watching the delivery man cycle off into the night, Terry got back inside his car and started the engine. Hopefully, by this time next week, that vile little shit who had stolen his family from him would finally have paid for his sins.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The following morning Eddie told Stuart and Raymond to go and do the collections alone. The loan-sharking business was booming and Ed had now split the collections into two separate areas. Gary and Ricky covered the East End, where the majority of their business was done, and Ed, Raymond and Stuart covered Essex and any other surrounding areas. Ed had always left south, west and north London alone. Each area had its own firm that carved a crust the same way that he did and stepping on someone else’s toes just wasn’t worth the agg.