Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  ‘Alright Babs. Mister Barman.’ She sounded cheery which Babs cautiously took to be a good sign.

  The still narked barman sorted them out a half lemonade shandy and a neat Bacardi and they took themselves off to the snug to keep prying eyes at bay.

  As soon as Babs got word that Kieran had been hurt – though he protested it was nothing but a flesh wound – she made up her mind that this carry-on had to stop. So she’d got on the ol’ dog to Pearl, swallowed her pride, and said it was time to negotiate. Pearl couldn’t agree quick enough.

  Now they drank in silence each wary of the other.

  Pearl was the first to speak. ‘I take it there’s no surprises hiding behind the bar this time?’

  ‘Or outside?’

  They each shook their heads. Babs added, ‘Cross your heart—‘

  ‘And hope to die.’ Pearl hesitated. ‘How’s Jen?’

  ‘Still hanging in there. We go down there every day and pray she wakes up.’ She didn’t add, ‘Which is another reason I don’t need all this’. But then she didn’t need to.

  Pearl worried her bottom lip. ‘I was sorry to hear that your fella walked away from you. I never told my grandsons to drag him into this. Or that grenade…or Kieran…’ she shook her head.

  Babs couldn’t even answer because Tricky Dickie dumping her was still so raw. Instead she leaned forward and lowered her voice even more. ‘I was gonna bring the grenade and throw it in the river.’ She frowned, ‘but the strangest thing is I can’t find it.’ She shrugged. ‘I think Flo or Tiff must’ve got rid of it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I swear to you, on my grandkids lives, that I never took the gold.’

  Pearl leaned in too. ‘Babs I didn’t take it either. I know I can be a touch free with the truth sometimes, but this time I’ve been straight up all the way.’

  Babs considered her one-time friend, searching her face for the slightest indications she was trying to pull a fast one. Pearl’s skin was strained and her eyes full of sadness.

  Babs asked, ‘So if we didn’t take it - then who did?’

  Pearl picked up her glass, took a deep lug and then sat back. ‘The way I see it, the only way that someone could’ve pinched it is if one of us blabbed to someone.’

  Babs spluttered, ‘Well, don’t look at me coz I never say boo to no one.’

  Pearl’s defences were back up. ‘Well, nor did I.’

  They were at stalemate again and the last thing Babs needed was another major league row. So she tried to calm things down.

  ‘There’s no point going at each other’s throat, we need to think this through calmly.’

  She paused, swallowed some shandy as her brain ticked away. Gently, she popped her half-pint glass on the table. ‘The only explanation can be one of us dropped a clanger, not on purpose mind. Might be it slipped out and we didn’t realise.’

  Pearl frowned, her fine-boned fingers locking together. ‘I don’t usually make those kind of mishaps…but still…’

  ‘I definitely didn’t tell one of my girls.’ Babs started thinking out loud. ‘I kept it to myself that I was visiting you. And no way would it have come out in their company coz the whole reason I had anything to do with that soddin’ gold was to keep them all safe.’

  Pearl’s eyes roving round as she joined in. ‘When I saw my grandsons I was always guarded about what I spoke of—‘

  Babs got impatient, leaning forward again. ‘We need to think long and hard about this. Go through every last person…’ Abruptly she stopped seeing the expression of shock cover the other woman’s face. ‘What is it?’

  Pearl shook her head as if trying to wake up from a trance. ‘Nah…Couldn’t be.’

  ‘Who?’

  Pearl’s expression turned twisted and ugly. ‘Yes, he mentioned the gold that time. But how did he know? I never told him that it was gold that had been teefed from my settee.’

  Babs was liable to drag Pearl across the table if she didn’t stop speaking in riddles. ‘Who you rabbiting on about?’

  It was as if Pearl couldn’t hear her. ‘Said he had underworld connections. Even claimed to be a burglar in his day, though we all thought he was chatting outta his behind. Warned me about that package.’

  Babs thumped the table. ‘Pearl!!”

  Pearl looked up at her with rage darkening her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you who. Fred the bloody Red.’

  ‘You sure he’s out?’ Babs asked quietly as she stood with Pearl outside Fred’s room.

  ‘Some of the others have taken him out to Bingo to keep his mind from thinking about Vi, God rest her kind-hearted soul.’

  Babs still couldn’t get her head around this. Some geriatric had nabbed the gold? She’d only clocked this Fred one time and the old boy looked like all he wanted to do was rest his bones in a deck chair on the beach with a pint of stout by his side.

  ‘Are you sure about this Pearl?’

  The other woman looked fit to explode. ‘That crafty bugger has been holding one hand out in friendship while the other’s behind his back ripping me off.’

  Not reassured – Babs still thought this was a fool’s errand – but she got on with the job. Plus, the sooner they could eliminate Fred from their enquiries, the sooner they could pop their thinking caps back on.

  ‘His door’s probably locked.’

  Pearl gave the handle a go. Babs was right. She sneaked a look down the corridor and then stuck her hand under her headscarf and pulled out two hairpins. Babs arched her brows; Pearl was a regular box of criminal tricks.

  Pearl expertly placed the pins in the lock. Click. ‘Easy peasy,’ she muttered and then opened the door.

  His room wasn’t choc-a-bloc full of stuff like Pearl’s, it held only the bare essentials – a bed, armchair, built in wardrobe, chest of drawers with a small telly on top and a night stand with a lamp. The walls were bare of photos or any pictures. Fred the Red looked like he lived the life of a monk.

  Babs took in the room with a dubious eye. ‘Can’t see where he’d stash the gold, unless it’s under the bed o’ course.’

  Pearl squinted, a cunning expression settling on her face. ‘Nah, Fred wouldn’t have the goodies in here.’ She turned to Babs. ‘My guess is that he didn’t do the job alone.’

  Babs rolled her eyes getting thoroughly fed up of this caper. ‘Oh, maybe he’s in league with some shape-shifter?’ She smacked her lips. ‘Come on, Fred clearly hasn’t got sod all to do with this.’

  Pearl wouldn’t have it and sidled up closer to her friend. ‘Nah Babsie, just listen to me. He was always going on about how he was connected in the biz, even knew Uncle Frank.’

  ‘Uncle Frank?’ That got Babs’ attention. ‘You saying that Uncle Frank had a hand in this?’

  ‘What I’m saying is there’s gotta be evidence in here that shows Fred’s in cahoots with another teef. We look through his drawers, under the bed, in the bathroom and I betcha we find the thread that will lead to our gold.’

  And that’s what they did for the next twenty minutes, riffled through Fred’s worldly goods, hunting high and low.

  ‘Babs?’ Pearl called as she parked herself on the edge of the bed holding what looked like a black bound book.

  ‘What’s that?’ Babs plonked down besides her frowning at the book.

  Pearl laid it in her lap. ‘This,’ she tapped the cover, ‘is a photo album. I was in here the other day and I had to move it off the bed. Maybe it can shed a bit of light.’

  The first couple of pages showed a very youthful – and handsome – Fred with his long departed wife and his sons when they were young uns. Then the photos changed to him in clubs and parties.

  ‘Fuck me sideways,’ Babs rasped, not believing her eyes. She touched a figure in a black and white snap. ‘That’s my Stanley. And look…’ her finger moved wildly on, ‘that’s Uncle Frank.’

  Suddenly Pearl sucked in a huge breath, her gaze riveted on another figure in the shot. ‘No way—‘

  The door swung open. Without realisin
g what she was saying, Pearl nodded. ‘Hello Fred.’

  ‘What the fuck are you doing in my room?’

  52

  Pearl was up and off the bed so quick there wasn’t much evidence of the arthritis she claimed to have in her knee joints. She was in his face, her fingers flexing and moving like she couldn’t decide whether to throttle him or crush him between her twitching fingers.

  ‘You vile bastard Fred. You conniving, donkey-brained, dog in a manger bastard.’

  His face grew red as he shut the door. He looked her directly in the eye. ‘Don’t know what you’re going on about sweetheart—‘

  ‘The gold Fred,’ Babs calmly jumped in as she stood. She kept her distance from them, not wanting to be any closer in case Pearl kicked right off.

  ‘Gold,’ Pearl underscored at the shocked expression on his face. What a fake up artist.

  ‘Don’t know nuthin bout no gold.’

  Pearl clucked her tongue and shook her head as if he were a naughty boy whose mummy had caught him with his hand inside the drinks cabinet.

  ‘Don’t give me none of that innocent shit. You mentioned the gold the other day. I should have twigged,’ she placed her finger beside her mouth as if she were deep in thought and in a baby voiced said, ‘’Ooo, how did Fred know bout the gold? Coz I never told him what I had hidden in my settee’. You knew all the friggin’ time.’

  Her finger fell away as sadness changed her face. ‘I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but I thought you were my friend. My mate.’

  Like a man defeated, his shoulders slumped as he moved to the bed and almost fell on it. His head was bowed. ‘I only did it for Vi. I’d have never done it otherwise.’

  Pearl’s jaw dropped south in shock. ‘Vi helped you—‘

  ‘No, no.’ He raised his head. His eyes glittered with tears. ‘Back in the day I was a burglar, but not your bog standard variety, I did jobs for hire. If someone didn’t wanna get their hands dirty I was your man. Word got around and before I knows it I’m doing jobs for some of the biggest Faces in the smoke.’ A long sigh escaped him. ‘Give it all up when my Lizzie took bad and once she’d passed on to live with the angels I had my boys to see right.’

  His eyes sharpened. ‘But that instinct for finding stuff folk think they’ve tucked securely away never leaves ya. It’s like you’ve got an extra sense, another trigger in your brain.’ He looked at Pearl. ‘And when you moved here and got those bars put up I knew you were hiding something.’

  Pearl opened her mouth with indignation, but Babs caught her forearm to allow him to continue.

  ‘I came in your room one night when you were sleeping. I still had a pair of sandman feet that moved as soundlessly as walking on air. The settee was a good hiding spot but the problem was something was making the bottom of it sag to the floor. Something heavy.’

  ‘So you took the gold?’ Pearl couldn’t hold back any longer.

  He shook his head. ‘Nah, I only wanted to see what you were keeping back from prying eyes.’ His face became strained showing his age. ‘I didn’t set out to rob ya. It’s only when I heard Vi talking about her money worries a month back to her sister that I got the idea of taking the gold to sell it on to dosh her up.’ His face crumpled. ‘But I was too late. Too late. She should’ve waited and I would’ve seen her right.’

  Understanding dawned on Pearl’s face. ‘So that’s why you kept saying you were too late after Vi and Di died.’

  His voice was wretched as he barely kept the tears at bay. ‘If she had hung on for a couple of weeks more I would’ve had the money all ready for her to pay to stay here. But she didn’t wait for me. I was only going to take a cut that was enough for her, didn’t want none for meself—‘

  Babs cut in, hardening her heart to his distress. ‘I know you think you were doing a kindness but it created a wagonload of badness. That was a lot of gold. So if you were only gonna take enough to help Vi who was gonna keep the rest of the money?’

  Pearl punched in, ‘and don’t deny it coz we know some other fucker was involved in this. The job happened when we were in Liverpool Street, so you got someone else to do the nicking.’

  ‘It’s still here,’ he said quietly.

  ‘What? The gold?’ Babs and Pearl shouted.

  Fred took them to the boiler room in the basement. He crouched down in the middle of the room. ‘Whoever built this place did a right Jerry job of it.’

  He started uncovering and shifting some of the fireproof floor tiles. When they were piled up, they could see boxes that had once contained tomatoes from a supermarket. The cardboard was torn, ragged and stained. Fred pulled open the flaps from one box. Inside was several bars of gold. They were kept higgledy-piggledy and covered in dust and muck from where they’d been carried from one hiding place to another before finally coming to rest in this boiler room. There was no sheen on them and they looked like a job lot of materials left over from a building job.

  Babs looked down and wrinkled her nose. It seemed right. These bars had long since lost their alluring glow for her. They were dirty alright.

  Pearl lent over to pick one up but Babs pulled her back. ‘Don’t touch it. It’s cursed.’

  Pearl straightened abruptly. ‘You’re right. If I had one of my sage sticks I’d purify all the evil spirits.’

  Babs huffed. ‘Don’t think even that will turn this gold into good.’ She looked down at Fred. ‘So who’s your Batman to your Robin in all of this?’

  The blood drained away from his face. ‘If I tell you I’ll be seeing my beloved Vi a lot sooner than I banked on.’

  Pearl pulled the photo album out from where it was tucked under her arm. She urgently flicked the pages until she found the one she was after. Shoved it in Fred’s face and pointed to a figure in a photo. ‘That’s him, ain’t it?’

  The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. She kissed her teeth with violent intent as she shared the photo with Babs.

  Babs rocked back on her heels in shock. She was incapable of speech for a few seconds she was that stupefied. When she did finally find her tongue she blustered, ‘But I thought…I can’t—‘

  ‘Since Fred’s keeping his trap well and truly shut there’s only one way to find out for sure,’ Pearl asserted with authority. ‘There’s one other person who knows who stole the gold.’

  Fred weaved to his feet, his turn to be gobsmacked. ‘What you gassing on about? No one else knows nish.’

  ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

  Pearl stomped out with Babs and Fred following close behind. She only stopped when she reached Lin Chen’s room. She knocked. No answer. Did it again, same thing. Pearl knew she could’ve got her grandsons on the case to make Lin spill the beans, but as much as she loved her boys, they could be cack-handed and this woman was a delicate thing with a heart condition. Blimey, she’d have been dead after they’d got through with her.

  ‘I know you’re in there Lin. Stop playing dead or—‘

  The door eased open and the other woman’s face appeared. ‘I don’t know anything.’

  Pearl ignored her. ‘I’m not asking you for a name. Is this the fella?’

  She held up the photo album. Lin’s eyes widened as her bony fingers tightened on the door. That’s all the answer Pearl needed.

  Then she caught Pearl off guard by unexpectedly spitting, ‘He did business with my husband. It did not end well.’ She shut the door quietly.

  Babs and Pearl stared at each other as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

  Babs folded her arms and announced with lethal determination, ‘It’s about time we turned the tables.’

  53

  ‘Who’s going to grow up to be a strapping lad like his granddad?’

  Neville used a man’s deep, rambling voice as he looked down at his grandson in his arms. Instead of his usual sweet smile Natty grizzled at him and flayed his legs. Must have wind, Neville decided.

  ‘You’re not full of yourself,’ Dee
responded to his comment, the twinkle in her eyes showing she was joking.

  They sat in the large lounge of her house, which Neville had to admit was an impressive piece of property. But then he’d expect nothing else from John Black’s missus. His girl had done good for herself.

  He peered at the baby. ‘He don’t much look like John.’

  Dee looked upset at the remark, her mouth twisting with displeasure. ‘I never did ask how you met my John.’

  So she wanted to change the subject, did she? He stared harder at his wriggling grandson and thought, what secrets are you hiding, eh little boy?

  Neville answered her question. ‘I met him at a club in Soho part-owned by Stanley Miller—‘

  Dee’s brows shot up. ‘You knew Babs’ old man?’

  ‘Everyone knew Stan Miller. He was one of those geezers who put himself about to make contacts. A very ambitious man was Stan. A man with big dreams.’

  His gaze gleamed at the end as he thought back to times past when he’d been a young man running around town trying to make a rep for himself. It hadn’t been easy for a lad from the Caribbean to stake his claim in London’s underworld but he’d learned how to duck and dive in both its black and white worlds.

  Dee’s mobile went off. ‘Yeah…What? Look I don’t wanna know. I told ya…’ Whoever was on the other end of the call was ruffling her feathers big time. She pulled the phone from her ear and laid it against her chest as she stood up. ‘Sorry about this.’ Then she left the room looking like she was about to tear the world apart.

  Neville turned back to the baby. ‘You need to toughen up my young man. It’s a big, wicked world out there and pussy-boys end up mashed under the boot heels of others.’

  He tickled Natty’s tummy, which made the boy squirm and whimper. Neville touched his soft tummy again, this time more gently, and Natty winced. Neville frowned. Looked like the baby was in pain. He eased back his grandson’s little top and sucked in his breath when he found a red bruise just above his belly button. Neville inspected it closer. No, it wasn’t a bruise but a red rash. He didn’t like the look of that. No wonder the boy was squealing and carrying on.