‘What about Alice, though? I thought you wanted her out of the picture as well,’ Stuart asked, bemused. It was only because Ed had insisted that Alice must also be killed that he had suggested breaking into the O’Haras’ gaff in the first place.
‘Larry rang me today. Alice has already created havoc up at Georgie’s new school and Georgie has now been asked to leave. Apparently that social worker bird popped round the O’Haras’ earlier to inform them that Georgie has to attend school to comply with the custody agreement and she told Larry it was mayhem round there. She’s written another report and Larry’s gonna appeal against them pikey shitbags getting custody. Once Jed and Jimmy are propping up the A13 in one of Freddie’s newly built flyovers, Alice ain’t got a cat in hell’s chance of getting her hands on them kids.’
‘So, what’s the plan now? How and when exactly are we gonna strike?’ Raymond asked.
‘Stu’s clocked the route Jed and Jimmy use on the way back from Southall. They drive past my old house, so the plan is that two of us wait in a motor a mile or two down the lane.’
‘Me and Ricky can do that. We know what their horse-box looks like,’ Gary said immediately.
‘OK, then as soon as you spot ’em, follow ’em, but keep way back, and ring us when they’re a couple of minutes away. We’re gonna be parked up in that layby between my old gaff and Jimmy’s. Me and Raymondo will hide in the back of the van and Stu can be in the driver’s seat. Jimmy and Jed have no idea what Stu looks like, and I’m gonna put some butcher stickers down the side of the van and dress Stu up to look like a fucking mobile butcher. If he pretends the van’s broken down, them drunken pricks will have no option but to get out and give him a push. They won’t be able to get the horse-box past, so they’re gonna have to help out. When they do, we’ll bundle ’em in the back of the van and take ’em to meet their maker.’
All five men fell silent as they thought over the plan. Ridding the earth of four men in the space of three days was a big risk and they all knew that. Ten minutes later, Ricky muttered the words that everybody had been waiting for.
‘He’s just walked out the club.’
Eddie Mitchell pushed Ricky out of the way and stared at the thin, dark-haired geezer who was standing at the entrance with a snooker-cue case in his hand. He was laughing and chatting to two older blokes.
‘You sure he’ll walk home alone?’ Eddie asked anxiously.
‘Yep. He stands at the door talking to them geezers every week. They walk the opposite way to him and Carroll gets a takeaway from that Chinese I pointed out to you earlier.’
‘Well, let’s hope the cunt’s hungry tonight, ’cause if he ain’t, and walks along with them two, we’re fucked,’ Eddie said frankly.
‘He won’t, Dad. He lives in the complete opposite direction,’ Gary said assuringly.
Eddie smirked as he saw Jamie Carroll say his goodbyes and walk towards the van. ‘Right, wait till he gets to that corner, then you jump in the front, Stu. Just pull up beside him and we’ll drag him in the back. If you see anybody or there are any motors coming along, drive past, give it a minute and turn around. The coast must be clear, OK?’
‘No probs, boss,’ Stuart said confidently.
Eddie felt hatred flow through his veins as Carroll strolled past the van. He left it five seconds, then clapped his hands. ‘Come on, let’s do this.’
Jamie Carroll was in an unusually good mood as he ambled down the street. Keithy Evans was one of the best players at the snooker club and tonight Jamie had kicked his arse. Looking forward to his usual Monday-night feast of spare ribs and special chow mein, Jamie clocked the van, then took little notice of it as he spotted the words ‘Beryl’s Flowers’ written down the side. Seconds later, he wished he’d been more observant.
‘Who the fuck are you? Get off me, you cunts,’ he screamed, as he was grabbed from behind by three men.
‘Get that case,’ Gary ordered, as he realised Carroll had dropped his snooker cue on the pavement.
Raymond grabbed Carroll’s hair, kneed him in the nuts, then threw him down against the metal floor of the van.
Lying spread-eagled, Jamie Carroll began to panic like he had never panicked before. ‘Where you taking me? Tell me what you want and I’ll do whatever,’ he pleaded.
Eddie crouched down, lifted Carroll’s head up by his hair and smiled at the fright on his face as Jamie registered exactly who he was dealing with.
Jamie Carroll started to shake. ‘I don’t know nothing, I swear I don’t,’ he whimpered. He was going to die, he knew that, and the thought of never seeing his four-year-old son again was the worst feeling he’d ever experienced in the whole of his colourful lifetime.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Alice was furious that Jed’s phone was still switched off. He’d promised her that he’d be here to speak to the social worker himself, but the little shit still hadn’t come home from the night before. All of a fluster, Alice rang her husband.
‘I’m gonna kill that son of ours when I get me hands on him, Jimmy. He still ain’t home and I don’t know what to say to this woman. Where are you? Can’t you come home and speak to her for me?’
When Jimmy informed her that he was attending to a bit of business up in Colchester, Alice ended the call in a huff. As much as she loved having Georgie and Harry living with her, nobody else lifted a finger to help out.
‘Nanny, can me and Harry have Angel Delight?’ Georgie asked, tugging Alice’s apron. Since she’d stopped being forced to attend that awful school, Georgie’s appetite had returned with a vengeance.
‘I’ll make you some after the lady’s been. She’ll be here in a minute and I need you and Harry to be on your best behaviour while she’s here. Can you do that for Nanny?’
Georgie put her hands on her little hips. ‘Not goin’ a school. Don’t like it,’ she said sullenly.
‘You musn’t say that in front of the lady, Georgie. If you do you ain’t having no Angel Delight,’ Alice said as the doorbell rang.
Carol Cullen politely refused Alice’s offer of tea or coffee. She always felt uncomfortable at the O’Haras’ house, was always wary of things kicking off. ‘Is Jed not here?’ she asked Alice. It was important she spoke to the children’s father rather than their grandparents.
‘He was on his way back from work and his motor broke down. He’s stuck on the bleedin’ A13 somewhere,’ Alice lied.
Carol explained to Alice how important it was for Georgie to be properly educated. ‘The court will take a very dim view of the custodial rules being broken, Mrs O’Hara,’ she warned.
Harry didn’t really understand the conversation, but Georgie did. She threw herself on the carpet and, screaming blue murder, pummelled her little fists against it. ‘I hate school! Not goin’,’ she sobbed.
Alice shouted at Georgie to behave herself and was relieved when she heard her son’s Shogun pull up outside. ‘Jed must have got his motor fixed. He’ll talk some sense into this little madam,’ she said, smiling falsely at Carol Cullen. Seconds later Alice’s smile was completely wiped off her face as a blotto Jed and Sammy staggered into the lounge.
‘We’re fuckin’ starvin’, Mum. Do us a bit a grub,’ Jed said. He and Sammy had pulled a couple of birds and had been drinking, snorting and shagging all night, which was why Jed had completely forgotten about the social worker’s visit. Spotting her sitting in the armchair, he smirked at his cousin.
‘I ain’t goin’ a school, Daddy,’ Georgie said, tugging at his ankle.
‘You ain’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna do, sweetheart,’ Jed said, picking his daughter up.
Alice glared at her son. ‘You and Sammy have obviously been working all night; you look knackered. Go upstairs and clean yourselves up and when Mrs Cullen has gone, I’ll do yous some lunch.’
Due to the narcotics and alcohol that were still in his system, Jed was in an obstinate mood. ‘Ooh, Mrs Cullen now, is it?’ Jed mocked, grinning at the po-faced social worker.
‘Just go upstairs, Jed,’ Alice ordered.
Jed put Georgie on the sofa, flopped down next to her and lifted Harry onto his lap. ‘As you can see, my kids love me very much, darlin’, so what’s your problem? Why do you keep coming round ’ere and sticking your trunk in where it ain’t wanted?’ Jed jeered in an arrogant tone.
‘Yeah, Jed’s a blinding dad, so why don’t you go and nuisance someone else?’ Sammy said, backing his cousin up as per usual.
‘I’ve no doubt that you love your children and they love you, Mr O’Hara, but if you don’t comply with the court’s ruling over their schooling, then I’m afraid you could cause yourself problems,’ Carol said, wording the sentence as nicely as she could. Jed’s eyes were glazed, his pupils were enormous and he was obviously high, drunk, or both. How he had driven home in that state she didn’t know, and as he stared at her, she decided there and then that if she had to return to the O’Haras’ again, she would bring a colleague with her for safety purposes.
‘Now, you listen to me, sweetheart. I never went to school, neither did my mother, father, my brothers or Sammy boy over there. It ain’t affected our ability to get on in the world and it won’t affect my chavvies either. These schools teach a load of old bollocks that kids never get to use in life anyway. I can teach ’em how to be streetwise and how to earn a crust. Before my brother Marky got murdered, he’d just bought five acres of land over in Kent, and look at this gaff my dad owns. Our family are no dinlos and if Georgie girl don’t wanna go a school, then she’ll be taught all she needs to know by me and her grandparents.’
‘But the courts won’t –’
Jed stopped Carol Cullen mid-sentence. ‘Fuck you and the courts! What yous people don’t seem to understand is a traveller’s way of life is totally different to the shallow little existences that yous gorjers lead. I bet I can guess what you’ve got, a three- or four-bedroomed house, a husband you’re bored with, a couple of kids, a dog and a fucking cat. And I bet the highlight of your whole year is the one or two foreign holidays that you go on. Am I right or am I wrong?’
Carol Cullen was shaken by Jed’s perception of her life. Apart from the fact that she didn’t have a dog, he was virtually right about everything else. ‘You’re very wrong, actually,’ Carol lied. She hated this flash little shit with a passion and would never admit that his portrayal of her existence was almost spot on.
‘Jed, you’ve said enough now. Go upstairs or you’ll have me to deal with,’ Alice shouted.
‘No, why should I? I’m sick of this shit and I’m only telling the truth. What Mrs Cuntsmouth here don’t realise is by the time Georgie girl is eighteen, she will be married to a nice travelling lad that has my stamp of approval. All Georgie needs to learn is how to cook, clean, produce chavvies and be a good wife and mother, so why should she be forced to sit in some poxy classroom until she’s sixteen years of age? I ain’t gonna let her settle down with a mush that don’t come from a wealthy family and ain’t clued up, so she ain’t gonna want for fuck-all, is she?’
‘I love babies, Daddy. When can I have one?’ Georgie asked excitedly.
‘When you’re sixteen,’ Jed said, stroking his daughter’s long dark hair.
Carol Cullen took in the situation before her. In some ways the travelling culture reminded her of the Indian way of life. The fathers married their daughters off young to chaps chosen by them and who came from families they approved of.
‘I’d best make a move now. Thank you for your time,’ Carol said, standing up. Trying to get through to Jed was like talking to a brick wall and she was just wasting her breath.
Alice followed Carol into the hallway and slammed the living-room door shut. ‘I’m really sorry about Jed. He’s obviously had a few beers and you know what rubbish men spout when they’ve been out boozing. He’ll think differently tomorrow and Georgie will go back to school, I promise you that.’
When Carol nodded curtly, Alice shut the front door and stormed back into the lounge. She then slapped her drunken son as hard as she could around his silly, smirking face. ‘If them chavvies are taken away from us, I will personally fucking kill you. Now get out my sight, you dinlo.’
Over in Holloway, Frankie was not in the best of moods. DI Blyth had just informed her that unless they had sufficient DNA evidence to link Jed and Sammy to Harry Mitchell’s murder, then they would not be able to arrest them just yet.
‘Well, when can you arrest ’em? Don’t the police believe me?’ Frankie asked in a dismayed tone.
‘As soon as we have some kind of evidence, Frankie, they will arrest them and bring them in for questioning. Until then, the last thing we want to do is alert Jed and Sammy that we are on to them. Everybody believes your story; that’s not the problem, I promise you that. The problem is that without proof we haven’t got a leg to stand on. There is no point in us taking this case to court when it’s just your and Kerry’s word against Jed and Sammy’s. We need more than that to secure a conviction.’
‘So when will the DNA results be back? Surely if they beat my grandad like they boasted about on the tape, then something must show up?’
‘I’ve spoken to the superintendent and the results could be back as early as tomorrow. If they aren’t, we should definitely have them by the end of the week. As I said earlier, Frankie, it is imperative that Jed and Sammy do not get wind of this, so please make sure that anything I tell you is kept solely to yourself. You haven’t told anybody else about this, have you?’
Frankie shook her head. Apart from Kerry, Babs was the only one who knew what was going on, but there was no point telling Blyth that. Babs was as dependable as they come, and Frankie didn’t want the DI to think she was a blabbermouth who couldn’t be trusted. ‘I would never tell anyone because I’d be too frightened of my dad finding out. What about Larry? Does he know you’ve come here today?’ Frankie asked worriedly.
‘I haven’t informed Larry about this visit, but if anything is mentioned, just stick to the original story that we are trying to get enough evidence to arrest Jed for conning old people, OK? I must go now. I have an important meeting at two o’clock and if I don’t dash, I’ll be late for it. As soon as we have the DNA back, I will let you know, but whatever the result, good or bad, I promise I won’t let this rest, Frankie. I know you’re telling me the truth and I want Jed and Sammy behind bars just as much as you do.’
Frankie said goodbye to Blyth and walked dejectedly back towards her cell. On the way she bumped into Katie, the travelling girl who knew Jed and who, in Frankie’s opinion, was her ex’s little spy.
‘I’m way over me due date. If me contractions ain’t started by Friday, they’re gonna induce me,’ Katie said brightly.
Frankie stared at Katie. Her accent made Frankie feel sick because she sounded so much like Jed and his family. In fact, everything about Katie and travellers in general made Frankie feel nauseous. Untrustworthy bastards, the lot of ’em, she thought.
Seeing the look of hatred on Frankie’s face, Katie took a step backwards. ‘Are you OK, Frankie? Have I done something to upset you?’ she asked, with a hurt expression.
Frankie laughed nastily. ‘Look Katie, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, and I only spoke to you in the first place because I needed to get a message to Jed, so do yourself a favour – stop trying to be my friend and fucking leave me alone.’
As Frankie stomped off, Katie stood gawping with shock.
Stanley Smith felt absolutely knackered as he flopped onto the armchair. When Joycie had said she wanted him to help out indoors more, he had thought she’d meant a bit of vaccing and polishing. Unfortunately for him, she hadn’t, and he’d spent the last couple of days painting one of the bedrooms, tiling one of the bathrooms, and putting up new curtain rails all over the poxy house.
Ten minutes later, Joyce was horrified when she walked into the lounge and saw her sleeping husband snoring his head off. She crept over to the armchair, bent down and clapped her hands as hard as s
he could next to his left ear.
‘What the fuck!’ Stanley yelled, as he jumped up like a kangaroo.
‘What are you doing lazing about down ’ere? You took that bedroom carpet up yet? I want the new one put down by tomorrow.’
‘I can’t move the bed and furniture on me own, Joycie. I’ll break me bleedin’ back.’
‘Well, best you ring Jock, then, and ask him to come round and help you.’
Stanley sighed. He’d obeyed Joyce’s rules and gone round to see Jock at the weekend to apologise for their fall-out. Under the circumstances, Jock had been extremely gracious, but Stanley didn’t want to take the piss by asking him to do bloody odd jobs. They hadn’t even been out for a pint together yet.
‘I don’t wanna ask Jock. Can’t you ring Joey and Dom? I’m sure they’ll come round and give me a hand.’
‘We’re not asking them!’ Joyce exclaimed.
‘Why not? They’re a damn sight younger and fitter than me and Jock are.’
‘Because they’re gay! In that programme I watched recently, it said that homosexual men liked dancing and shopping; these gays ain’t into physical heavy lifting, Stanley,’ Joyce said seriously.
Stanley knew there was no point in arguing with her. ‘OK, I’ll ring Jock, then,’ he said.
Joyce smirked. Not only did she love getting her own way, she also loved having Stanley back home with her. She would never tell him that, though. She would keep the old bastard in the doghouse for the rest of his life and, after what he’d done, that’s where he deserved to be.
‘Come on then, chop chop, ring Jock,’ Joyce demanded.
‘Fucking old witch,’ Stanley mumbled, as soon as his wife was out of earshot.
Joycie went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. She’d worked him so hard that Stanley had been as stiff as a board as he’d stood up and limped towards the phone. ‘Serves you right, you philandering old goat,’ she chuckled.
The Victim Page 25
