Streetwise

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Streetwise Page 12

by Roberta Kray


  Chris curled his lip. ‘Yeah, I’ve got a problem. I’m sick to death of you lot hassling me. Ain’t you got nothing better to do?’

  Ava stared at him, dumbfounded. What the hell was he doing? Why was he provoking them? Was he too drunk to realise the enormity of what was happening? Adrenalin was pumping through her blood, prompting that fight-or-flight impulse. She had a sudden mad urge to sprint off down the street. It took a real effort of will for her to stay where she was.

  ‘This is out of order,’ Chris said. ‘You’re taking liberties.’

  ‘Miss?’ the younger cop asked again. There was impatience in his voice now.

  She hesitated. The keys, grasped tightly in her right hand, were starting to dig into the soft flesh of her palms. What could she do? Her gaze darted towards Chris, but all he did was scowl back at her. A fat lot of help. If she refused, they’d both end up nicked, but if she went ahead there was no saying what might be revealed. She was buggered whatever choice she made. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

  When she could no longer delay the inevitable, Ava stepped forward and slid the small key into the lock. She held her breath, preparing herself for the worst as the boot swung slowly open. She could hardly bear to look. And then, as her gaze settled on the contents, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There was nothing there but the spare tyre, a jack and a can of motor oil.

  She looked up and caught Chris’s eye. He winked back at her. She gave him a withering stare in return. Although relieved, she felt a spurt of anger too. The bastard. He’d let her go through that for nothing. All he’d been doing was winding up the cops.

  The young PC, unable to disguise his disappointment, slammed shut the boot and strode back to the patrol car. The older cop grinned. He’d been around long enough to know that some you win, some you lose. He passed Ava the ticket and said, ‘Try and be more careful in future, huh?’

  ‘Yes, officer,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll be hearing from my solicitors,’ Chris said.

  The cop ignored him and went off to join his partner.

  Ava only had to walk a few steps to reach the door and get inside the Mercedes, but that short distance felt like a mile. Her legs were lead and her knees were knocking together. At any second she expected the officer to turn around, to call out for her to stop, to hurry back with some excuse to search her bag. When she finally climbed into the driver’s seat, it was with such a sense of relief that she had to sit back and close her eyes for a moment.

  When she opened them again, Chris was sitting beside her. ‘Thanks for that,’ she said. ‘Were you trying to give me a heart attack?’

  ‘Sorry, love, but it’s what they expect. You have to play the game. If I hadn’t had a go, they’d have been suspicious.’

  He had some front, she thought, but he was a fool too. What kind of an idiot carried a gun around? She waited for the patrol car to move off, before taking the gun carefully out of her bag and handing it over to him. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’

  ‘It’s not loaded,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t going to…’

  ‘What? Shoot him?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t going to shoot him.’

  ‘Well, three cheers for that,’ she said caustically. ‘No harm done, then, apart from almost getting yourself arrested.’

  Chris slipped the gun in his pocket. ‘I owe you one.’

  ‘You owe me sixty quid,’ she snapped. ‘And that’s just for starters.’

  18

  Ava dropped Chris off at Walpole Close, hoping that he’d sober up and stay away from Wilder. She changed cars and made her way towards the Mansfield Estate. She needed someone to talk to and her dad seemed like the best bet. She was starting to wonder if she’d made a big mistake about the job. Was it really worth the hassle? She knew that Chris hadn’t forced or even asked her to take the gun – it had been her suggestion entirely – but if she’d been caught with it, she would have been in a whole lot of bother.

  Although the snow was still falling, she decided to leave the car in Violet Road. No motor was safe on the Mansfield, not even her little Kia. The feral kids that roamed the estate weren’t fussy about what they went joyriding in. She began to walk, shivering in the cold and wishing that she’d worn a warmer coat.

  She turned on to Lincoln Road and from there cut up on to the Mansfield. The three tall, concrete towers were familiar to her from her childhood. Although the family had never lived on the estate – they’d had a little two-up, two-down terrace off the high street – she’d spent plenty of time there with her friends. She remembered the dark threatening passageways, the rusting balconies and graffiti-covered walls. Nothing much had changed. There had always been an edge of menace to the place, and an air of downtrodden resignation too.

  As she walked along the main path, she kept her eyes peeled. Muggings were rife on the Mansfield and she had no desire to be relieved of the small amount of cash she was carrying. Usually the estate was awash with dealers, but the bad weather had driven all but the most hardy, or most desperate, of them inside. Only a few hooded figures lurked ominously in the shadows.

  Ava opened the door to Haslow House and stepped inside the dimly lit foyer. It was cold and empty and smelled of dope. Her dad had a one-bedroom flat on the third floor. She was glad he wasn’t higher up; it saved her the trauma of having to ride in a lift that stank of pee. Ignoring the elevators, she jogged up the stone steps, brushing the snow off her shoulders as she went. By the time she’d climbed three flights, she was out of breath and could feel the pull of the muscles in the back of her legs.

  After turning the corner on to the walkway, she stopped for a while to look out across the estate. Even the Mansfield had a certain charm when it was covered with snow. Then, when her breathing had returned to normal, she carried on by the row of doors until she came to number thirty-one.

  She rang the bell and it was answered straight away. Her father quickly ushered her in, rubbing his hands together as if he was the one who’d been out in the cold.

  ‘Come on in, love, before you freeze to death. What a day, eh?’

  After the events of the last few hours, she was glad to see a friendly face. The flat, although small, was warm and cosy. They went through to the kitchen where he took her wet coat and put it over the radiator. They made small talk while he got out the tea bags and organised a brew. When the two mugs were on the table, he sat down opposite to her.

  ‘So what’s the problem, sweetheart?’

  Ava wasn’t sure how grown-up it made her, running to her dad at the first hint of trouble, but she had no one else to turn to. She could share most things with Tash – her flatmate would never deliberately break a confidence – but with this she needed to be extra careful.

  ‘You mustn’t tell anyone. Will you promise me?’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘Cross my heart,’ he said. ‘Now come clean before your old man dies of curiosity.’

  Ava took a welcome sip of tea before beginning her story. She started with the phone call to Chris and the news about his ex. ‘He went ballistic,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t believe they were actually divorced. He was acting like she was cheating on him.’

  ‘But with Guy Wilder,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That must have rubbed him up the wrong way.’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it.’ She went on to tell him about the stop-off at Belles, about Solomon Vale and her reluctance to drive Chris to Wilder’s. ‘But he was going there no matter what I said and so I reckoned it was better to take him there myself.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there.’

  She gave him a quick summary of the events at the bar before moving on to the more important bit. ‘And then, just when I was heading for Walpole Close, thinking that the worst was over, there’s a flashing blue light behind me.’

  ‘Old Bill.’

  ‘Yeah, the cops. The sods claimed I went through a red light, but I swear I didn’t. They were just looking for an excuse.’<
br />
  ‘They give you a ticket?’

  ‘You bet, but that’s not the worst of it. Chris didn’t even want me to stop. He told me to put my foot down, for God’s sake. He wanted me to try and shake them off.’ She paused before revealing why, briefly lowering her eyes to the table before raising them again. ‘He had a gun, Dad. He was carrying. He went to try and find Guy Wilder with a gun in his pocket.’

  Jimmy Gold took a breath. ‘Christ. You don’t think he was going to —’

  ‘He said he wasn’t, said it wasn’t even loaded, but… I don’t know. What if he was lying? What if he had shot him? I could have ended up an accessory to murder!’

  ‘But the cops didn’t find it?’ His eyes widened with alarm. ‘Shit, they didn’t, did they?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ She’d been intending to tell him about how she’d hidden it in her bag, but for some reason decided not to. The stupidity of what she’d done was slowly dawning on her. He would ask her why and she wouldn’t she able to tell him. How could she? She didn’t know herself. It had been a mad, impulsive thing to do. ‘I just… I’m not sure. Maybe I’m not cut out for this job. Do you think I should chuck it in?’

  Her father reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. ‘That’s up to you, love. Although… no, I don’t know… I’m just glad you’re okay. What do you think?’

  Ava didn’t know what she thought. A part of her wanted him to tell her to walk away, to make the decision for her. ‘Maybe I should call it a day.’

  ‘It might be for the best.’

  ‘Should I?’

  The two of them looked at each other across the table. Her father scratched his forehead. ‘He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have put you in that position. I don’t want you getting into trouble, love.’

  ‘Except it wasn’t his fault that the cops stopped us.’ She picked up the mug, drank some tea and put it down again. ‘Am I overreacting? No, I’m not, am I? If he had been caught with that gun, I could have been for the high jump too.’

  ‘Perhaps you should quit.’

  ‘Should I? Yes, you’re right. Should I?’

  ‘Or you could sleep on it. See how you feel in the morning.’

  She gave a sigh. ‘I don’t even know why I’m thinking about it. He’ll probably fire me anyway. End of. Problem solved.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’

  She sat back, putting her hands behind her head. ‘Then I’ll resign.’

  ‘And go back on the cabs?’

  ‘I’d rather stick hot needles in my eyes.’ But what was she going to do? Driving positions weren’t that easy to find. She’d had to beg for this one. And Christmas was rapidly approaching. On top of all her bills, she needed money for presents. She couldn’t afford too many scruples. And the truth was that she liked Chris – except when he was pissed and behaving like a dick – and didn’t want to throw the job away.

  ‘You’ll get something else,’ he said. ‘I know you will.’

  Ava sat forward again. There was a copy of the Kellston Gazette on the table. She flicked to the back where the classified section was. ‘Look at this. There’s hardly anything: deliveries, deliveries, deliveries… cabs. And they’re all paying peanuts.’

  Her father reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. ‘Here,’ he said, pulling out three twenties. ‘Have this to tide you over. It’ll pay that fine, at least.’

  She waved the money away. ‘Thanks, but I’m okay at the moment, Dad. And I’m not paying the fine, Chris is.’ She closed the paper and nodded towards the notes. ‘I see you’re still flush, then.’

  ‘I’m being careful with it.’

  ‘Must have been a good win.’

  ‘Everyone deserves a bit of luck now and then.’

  Ava gave him an enquiring look, but he wasn’t coming clean. Her gaze dropped down to the paper again. She scanned the headlines and then turned over the page where the first thing she noticed was a report about a break-in at a local warehouse. Finian’s, a retail supplier of electronic goods, had been relieved of their stock by a gang of robbers. She wouldn’t have thought much else about it if her father hadn’t chosen that moment to make a clumsy attempt at trying to distract her.

  ‘So what else have you been up to, love? Been anywhere nice?’

  She looked up at him. ‘Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘This,’ she said, prodding the article with her finger. She turned the paper around and pushed it across the table. ‘Finian’s. That’s in the business park on Lincoln Road, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘You know it is.’

  He gave a shrug, but his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. There was a short silence filled only by the ticking of the kitchen clock and the occasional click of the radiators.

  ‘Dad?’

  He screwed up his face, not wanting to lie to her, but not wanting to tell the truth either. ‘It was a last-minute thing,’ he eventually admitted. ‘They needed a driver and… well, things have been a bit tight lately. I know I said I wouldn’t, but it was just too good to pass over. I checked out the plans. It was all sweet, neatly planned. We were in and out in fifteen minutes.’

  Ava’s heart sank and she shook her head despairingly. ‘You’ll end up back inside.’

  ‘Only if they catch me,’ he said.

  ‘You haven’t got any of the stuff, have you? I mean, here, in the flat?’ Among other things, Finian’s sold computers, TVs, iPads and phones. She looked quickly around the kitchen. ‘You didn’t bring anything back with you?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Cash. It was strictly cash.’

  ‘You swear?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I swear, sweetheart. There’s nothing here.’

  She hoped he was telling the truth. Some people learned from experience, but Jimmy Gold wasn’t one of them. ‘That’s something, I suppose.’ There was no point in having a go. What was done was done and couldn’t be changed. And anyway, who was she to pass judgement when she was working for one of the biggest villains in the district? ‘And no cops sniffing around? They haven’t given you a tug?’

  ‘Why would they? They’ve got no reason, love. The job went off fine, sweet as a nut, and I’ve been clean for years. Well, nothing heavy.’

  She wanted to feel reassured, but she didn’t. When it came to her dad, things rarely ran smoothly. The last thing she wanted was to see him behind bars again.

  19

  Danny Street glanced at his watch. It was half past five exactly. He kept an eye on the building while Silver carefully examined her face in the mirror. She spent a lot of time gazing at her own reflection. It was her third favourite pastime after shagging and snorting coke. This evening, she seemed preoccupied by her pale pink mouth. She pouted and smiled and pouted again.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

  She frowned as if he’d interrupted her midway through an especially arduous task. ‘I’m getting into character, babe. It’s what all the best actresses do. I’ve read about it. You have to think yourself into the part. You have to imagine what they’d be feeling, how they’d behave, all that sort of stuff.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She pushed a strand of fair hair away from her face. ‘I’m thinking myself into Ava’s head. What would she say? What would she do?’

  ‘Ava?’

  ‘Well, I need a name, hun. I can’t give him my real one.’

  ‘I thought we’d decided on Emma.’

  Silver pouted again. ‘I don’t like Emma. I want to be Ava.’

  ‘You want to be the girl who’s shagging my brother?’

  She turned her head and smiled at him ‘Why not? What’s wrong with that?’ She laid a hand on his thigh, squeezed and then ran her fingers closer to his balls. ‘Are you jealous, babe? Are you angry?’

  Danny grinned back at her. ‘You’re a whore,’ he said. ‘You’re a fuckin’ tart, a tom. What’s there to be jea
lous about?’

  Silver tilted back her head and laughed. ‘I’m Ava,’ she said. ‘I’m your brother’s filthy little whore.’

  ‘And you’re about to cheat on him.’

  ‘I am, aren’t I?’

  Danny pushed her hand away. His cock had hardened, he even felt in the mood, but he wasn’t going to go there. He had more important things on his mind. ‘So you keep concentrating on that while I watch out for Mr Squires.’

  ‘Mr Squires,’ she repeated, giggling. ‘Mr Squires, Mr Squires.’

  Danny would usually take his time checking out the mark, establishing what their movements were, when they came and went, but on this occasion he’d decided to go with the flow. He already knew the basics – the guy lived in Highgate and usually caught the train home – and that was probably enough. With the weather on their side he figured it was smart to take advantage of it. A girl could easily slip in conditions like these, especially if she was wearing high heels, and any half-decent bloke would feel obliged to go to her rescue.

 

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