Babs’ face burned red at the threat in the smaller woman’s tone. ‘If you’ve got something to say gob it out.’
Pearl waved her small hand in the air. ‘It’s not just him saying it, but also the spirits are telling me—‘
Babs butted in with a nasty scoffing sound. ‘Spirits my East End arse. The only spirits you commune with are the ones drifting drunkenly out of a bottle of rum.’
Pearl moved closer. So did Babs. They stood nose-to-nose. Toe-to-toe. Their hot, angry breaths bounced off each other’s face.
‘Listen Pearl, I don’t know exactly what’s gone on here,’ Babs snarled behind gritted teeth. ‘Maybe you got caught up in the moment. Or maybe someone’s leaned on ya, I dunno. I don’t care.’ She wriggled her head provocatively. ‘Let’s just say if you put things right, I’ll say no more about it. Let bygones be bygones, know what I mean?’ That was supposed to be the end of it but her temper got the better of her. ‘Which I think is pretty generous of me in the circumstances.’
Pearl lost it big time, her head rearing back in outrage. ‘Me? ‘You’re saying it was me? You’ve got the nerve of the Devil and all the evil spirits in hell—‘
‘Oh, pack it in with your spirits malarkey, I’m not a mug down the fairground.’
Pearl folded her arms, tilted her chin back and looked down her nose. ‘I should have guessed you were behind it all along. What an idiot I’ve been.’ She slapped her forehead, her bangles jangling. ‘Trusting you of all people! Are the rest of the Millers in on the deal as well? I bet they are – a right little coven of teefs, the lot of ya.’
Her Jamaican accent was righteous with molten rage as she pronounced ‘thief’ as ‘teefs’.
Pearl’s mouth wouldn’t stop. ‘No wonder your gangster boyfriend couldn’t help, he’s already helped you out with this, hasn’t he? You get me? What kind of fool do you take me for? And you know what really hurts? You and the rest of the gang having a laugh at my expense – that’s what really stings. You bitch! You utter, fucking bitch.’
Babs’ jaw dropped south. She’d never heard Pearl turn the air blue before. Then she reminded herself that this woman hadn’t been banged up with her, less than a year ago, in the prison cell next door for being an angel.
Babs got right into her face. ‘Now you listen to me. I’ve tried being being upfront but you ain’t having it. You’re gonna put things right, whatever it takes. And if you don’t you’ll be bloody sorry. I’ll chase you down to the gates of hell if I have to…’
Crack!
Babs’ head rocked back with the force of Pearl’s considerable slap to her face. She could’ve dealt with the blow – it wasn’t the first and no doubt wouldn’t be the last time someone took a swing at her – what tipped her over the edge was the smug, self-satisfied expression of glee on her former mate’s face.
‘Right, you’ve gone and done it now!’
Babs flew at Pearl, grabbing her headscarf and dragging her to the floor, arms flailing as if they were two girls hating on each other in the playground. Babs went down with her. Pearl might be in her sixties but she gave as good as she got. The pair of them wrestled on the floor, grappling and spitting venom instead of landing blows.
‘You piece of crap!’
‘You two-faced slag!’
‘Fuck you!’
‘No, fuck you!’
A roaring fizz and whistle sound shuddered with an almighty thud against the outside of the closed door, followed by an explosion that sounded like a hand grenade going off.
The two women froze in shock staring straight into each other’s eyes, more like lovers than enemies. Babs hurriedly shook herself free from Pearl, rushed over to the door and threw it open. People were screaming and shouting. Hooded figures attacked anyone that didn’t scarper quickly enough.
Complete, fucking bedlam.
Dee’s eyes bugged out of her head. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Chaos spread through her beloved club like smoke from a blazing building. It was hard telling who and how many scrotes there were but they seemed to be everywhere. They were dressed in bad boy street style, their faces hidden by hoods, zipped up jackets and large sunglasses. Some were wrecking the bar, some were launching random attacks on the guests and some were overturning chairs and tables. For a few moments, Dee was stunned. Where the hell had these kids come from? Why hadn’t the bouncers kept them out?
That bastard Kieran whispered in her ear, totally unfazed, ‘don’t know who you paid off to keep this party safe Dee – but it was the wrong people. Plus, your security seem to be a no-show.’
She hated that he was right, but he was. ‘Yeah, very comical.’ She seethed, ‘I ain’t having this in my club. I’m running them out.’
Kieran showed what an old hand he was. ‘Discover who’s in charge and giving the orders. Whack them and the rest will scarper.’
Dee turned to him in shock. ‘Aren’t you pitching in to help then? I thought you was a guest?’’
Kieran was shamefaced. ‘I can’t Dee. I’ve gone straight. I’m in the papers these days as a respectable businessman. I can’t have the law running me in for assault or disorderly conduct, it wouldn’t look good with my investors.’
‘You wanker.’
As Dee hurried across the floor, she called out to various guests who were trying to flee, ‘Come on, they’re only kids, tool up and take them on!’
Some of the faint hearts ran, some hesitated and some came to join her. Tiff and Flo appeared like avenging twins and got stuck in with their fists and feet.
But when a shocked Babs and Pearl rushed breathlessly down the stairs Dee warned them, ‘Not your fight ladies. Go and hide somewhere.’
But they decided it was their fight and armed themselves with bottles and looked for kids to teach a lesson.
In the bar area, Dee found a youth smashing the optics with a chair. Coming up from behind, she took off a shoe and began raining blows on his head with the heel. ‘Who’s in charge of your little caper? Tell me before I drag your turkey nuts all over town.’
The kid fell to his knees and yelping in pain. ‘Fuck off, I dunno, I dunno…’
Dee clocked that the youth didn’t have no nuts; he was a she. ‘Who’s in charge?’
The kid rolled on her back, floundering and crying in pain as Dee kept up with the punishment. ‘Dunno…Dodgy! Help me! Help me!’
At the sound of the name ‘Dodgy’, a figure at the bar – Dee would beat her life it was another girl - had a rocket in a bottle with a lighter in her hand and turned to look.
Right, I’m having ya.
Dee put her shoe back on and, with a final vicious kick at her victim’s belly, screamed, ‘Get outta my club!’
Then she took off towards Dodgy. But as she drew close, Dodgy pointed the bottle with the rocket at her with the lighter near the fuse.
‘Back off babe before I barbecue you and your weave. Go on, back off!’
Loving her moment in the limelight Dodgy got cocky. ‘Why don’t you get yourself a drink and let us finish our little part-time evening job? And next time…’
Dodgy was hit across the head from behind by a bar stool wielded by none other than Mister Straight Himself, Kieran Scott. Dodgy flew several feet across the floor and ended up motionless, in a heap. Kieran picked up a soda siphon and sprayed the rocket. Then he waltzed over to Dodgy, yanked her hood back and sprayed her face. ‘Wakey! Wakey sleepy head! You weren’t hit that hard.’
Dee stood over them. ‘Recognise her boat?’
Kieran shrugged. ‘Don’t matter. It’s who’s paying her that counts.’ He straightened up never taking his eye off Dodgy. ‘Who’s pulling your strings? I want their name now.’
The sound of another bang distracted him and Dee. Seeing her chance Dodgy bolted out of the club. There were fights and chases going on all over the club but when Dodgy’s crew saw their boss was done, they legged it. Only Babs and her friend Pearl were still fighting, dishing out justice to a pink-haired girl
in the cloakroom. Dee broke it up and the girl ran for it.
But then a strange thing happened. Although the two women had been acting as a tag team, when it was over, Pearl turned on Babs and sneered, ‘This fight makes no difference. It’s still on.’
Babs spat back. ‘Bring. It. On.’
Dee had no time to work out what that was about. She headed to the door where she found her useless security team milling around.
She pointed a finger at them. ‘After you finish your shift collect your cards. You ain’t welcome here no more.’
The gaffer of the team started to argue the odds but Dee turned her back as she made her way outside where many of the shocked clubbers hung around in groups, whispering and pointing.
‘Anyone called the Bill?’ Dee’s loud voice got their attention.
The crowd fell silent. No one answered. Dee smiled. ‘Good. Drinks are on the house for the next hour.’
There was a stampede to get to the bar.
Dee felt washed out but knew she needed to keep it together. Time enough tomorrow to figure out what came next. But now she had a name:
Dodgy.
Her sisters, mum and Flo anxiously waited for her in reception.
‘What was all that about?’ Jen asked.
‘Dunno. What I do know is we still need to put on a party. Tiff go back to the cloakroom. Jen and Flo mingle and smooth over any ruffled feathers.’ She added for Flo’s benefit, ‘And put a cardigan on dear, you’re distracting the staff.’ That broke the tension a bit. ‘Mum get me a triple gin cocktail from the bar.’
When she hit the dance floor she saw Rapper Kujuk spinning a track and singing along. Good lad. She mouthed ‘thank you’ to him and touched her fingertips to her heart.
Dee cried out, ‘Get your groove feet on people. This party’s going on, in the words of Lionel Ritchie, All Night Long!’
25
Dodgy knew she was fucked and she wasn’t talking about the beating she’d just taken. Her gaffers were going to go ape. Clutching her forehead she slunk down a side road from the club like a wounded animal. When she was sure she wasn’t being followed, she stopped and inspected her fingers under a street lamp. They were covered in blood from where she’d held the cut on her head. It was a hell of a hit she’d taken.
Her Dodgy Girls had bottled it, the lot of ‘em. Including Courts. Her eyes narrowed. Come to think of it she didn’t remember seeing Courts on the dance floor. Well, Dodgy was on her own now with a simple choice. Was she going to report back to the bosses that she’d fucked up and take a beating? Or run off and take a bigger bashing next time she saw them?
Her leg felt like some beast had got its gnashers in it. Gingerly she eased down her trackie bottoms and ran her fingers over her thigh. It was swelling up already. She limped through another couple of streets until she reached a road of terraced houses that stood forlornly amid all the new builds.
At the dark end of it, near what passed for a playground, a black Bob Marley was parked up with two men sitting up front. One seemed to be asleep; the other was playing with his phone. Dodgy hesitated. If she reported back now with her gashed head and mashed up leg perhaps the boys would cut her some slack. Come on, she had the bruises and blood to prove she’d put up a good fight. As she walked the last few yards though, she knew what a really dumb idea that was. These guys didn’t do slack.
The motor’s automatic window wound down as she kept her balance on her good leg.
Pinky put his mobile in his pocket. ‘The party’s over I take it?’
When it came to it, Dodgy didn’t have the heart to say that the oppo had chased her out and with added lumps. In the end, she couldn’t say anything at all.
Pinky sighed, shook his head and muttered, ‘Send a girl to do a man’s job.’ He dug his passenger in the ribs to wake him up. ‘Styley – our girlfriend here has messed up.’
Styley yawned, stretched his arms and then peered out of the window. ‘Is that right?’
Dodgy had learned young there was no point in lying to players like these two. ‘Yeah.’
Styley made a nasty sound at the back of his throat. ‘Should’ve guessed Dee Black would have you over. She’s John Black’s widow, she’ll be good for a ruck.’
Pinky nodded. ‘Yeah and she’s going to be somebody else’s widow if she carries on like this. We’ll have to pay this cunt Dee a visit ourselves.’ Pinky turned back to Dodgy and held his hand out. ‘We want a refund.’
She tried to be the hard girl she was and keep the worry off her face. ‘I ain’t got it. I spent it already.’
‘Well, in that case you better get your hands on some pills and start selling them fast. We don’t pay for services that aren’t rendered – you know that.’
‘I’ll get it, I promise.’
Pinky reached into the glove compartment and took out a silver pistol which he passed to his brother ‘One for you…’ he took out another gun ‘…and one for me.’
For a moment Dodgy thought she was dead meat. She tried to hang tough but she was on the verge of tears. Furiously she sucked them back. She was the leader of the Dodgy Girls. Dodgy Girls don’t cry.
Pinky turned to her in surprise. ‘Are you still here? Why don’t you go for a walk girlfriend? We’ll catch up with you another time.’
Dodgy hobbled away as they exited the car. She’d got away with it this time. But she knew every time you got away with it brought the time you didn’t one job closer.
‘We going in there Dirty Harry style then?’ Styley formed his hands into a gun and went, ‘Pow! Pow!’
Pinky and Styley were a few hundred yards from Dee’s club and walking fast.
Pinky was in a hurry to get it over with. ‘It’s simple bro. On the dance floor we wave one of our pieces around and pump a few shots into the ceiling. So the Widow Black gets the message she needs insurance. Then, when the crowd starts legging it, we run with them. When the law turn up, everyone’s done a bunk and anyone who’s left never saw a dickie bird. No one wants to grass up people with guns, you know that.’
Styley stopped. ‘I dunno about this Pink – you know what the big guy’s like when people shoot on his manor without his say-so. Biggin ain’t gonna like it.’
Pinky was tempted to tap his brother very hard in the middle of his forehead to knock some sense into him. ‘He’s not gonna know, now is he? Anyways, we ain’t shooting anyone, it’s just a demo. A light touch spray and pray.’
His brother pinched his lips together still not convinced. ‘Should’ve got Dodgy to do it.’
‘We got Dodgy to do it and the damn gal pissed it up.’ When Styley said nothing, his brother added with attitude, ‘what’s the matter with ya? Gone gun shy?’
Styley got shirty and growled, ‘You keep running your bullshitting gob like that bruv and there really will be a shooting, right behind your two front teeth, get me?’
Pinky put his arm around his pissed brother’s neck. ‘So, what do you want to do then? If word spreads we were faced off by Dee Black, our rep’s gonna be in the crapper. Now shift yourself, don’t wanna be late for our pick-me-up at Charmaine’s later.’
Styley perked up at that. He did enjoy rolling between some bird’s legs at Charmaine’s knocking shop.
They turned the corner and walked up the steps to the club where the bouncers were on high alert after Dodgy’s earlier antics. Styley loosened his hood so they could see his face. Both men were gripped with terror. The brothers were well known around town and it wasn’t because of their acts of charity.
‘Alright lads?’ Styley started brazenly. ‘Room for two more at the inn?’
Indecision played across the face of one of the bouncers who was obviously calling the shots on the door.
He stood his ground. ‘Normally there would be but it’s invitation only now. Unless you’re on the guest list?’
‘Oh yeah, we’re on the guest list alright…’ Pinky unzipped his hoodie to reveal his 9 Milly in a shoulder holster. ‘Know what
I mean?’
Sweat dripped down the bouncer’s cheek. ‘Look Pinky, we don’t want no trouble. If you want some advice, I’d be careful if I was you, your hostess for the evening will take anyone on, shooters or no shooters.’
Pinky’s lip curled. ‘You’re wrong – we don’t want any advice.’
The bouncers stepped aside and the two brothers waltzed into the club.
Outside the doors to the main floor, Styley pulled his phone out. ‘I’m gonna give the big guy a ring, just to make sure we’re squared.’
His brother’s light, piercing blue eyes blazed with fury in his brown face. ‘No, you ain’t, you hear.’
Styley’s temper rose too. ‘You’re too bold bruv, you’re gonna get us shot one of these days.’
With a huff of frustration and shake of his head he put his mobile away.
The dance floor was wall-to-wall jammed packed, hot and heaving, everyone getting on down to KRS-One’s ‘Sound of da Police’. Felt like the Notting Hill Carnival. Styley had to give Dee Black this: my girl knew how to throw a rave. The boys weaved their way into the middle of the heaving dance floor.
Suddenly Pinky got into the groove and started dancing. Styley grinned and joined his brother bussin’ some moves and whooping-whooping at the right time along with the party people during the chorus. Pinky nudged his brother and gestured upwards. Dee Black presided on the balcony, resting her arms on a rail, keeping an eagle eye on proceedings.
The brothers shared a crazy grin. Then Styley put one arm around his shoulder, jogged on to the music for a bit and then used his free hand to pull out the semi, raised it high and pointed it at the ceiling. Pulled the trigger twice.
Bang! Bang!
Paused. Let off two more rounds.
Bang! Bang!
Shrill screams nearly drowned out the last two shots as the revellers divided and scrambled for cover. The music stopped. The lights came up as the two gunmen ran for it, joining clubbers rammed up against the main doors trying to escape. When Pinky turned and looked upwards, he saw Dee Black was gone.
Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists Page 15
