The Sting

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘Dumbo does. Benny doesn’t. Now, if you don’t mind, I have lots of paperwork to plough through. Take care of yourself, Tommy, and don’t forget to take your money with you.’

  Realizing he was being dismissed, Tommy picked up the envelope and without uttering another word left the room. He had always thought Connie was a kind, forgiving soul, not a bitter old bat. He’d only been a kid back then, for goodness’ sake.

  ‘All right?’ Ray asked, when Tommy walked into the kitchen.

  ‘Not really. What did I ever do that bad for Connie to hate me so much?’

  ‘Take no notice. She’s been in a foul mood all week,’ Ray lied. ‘You in a rush to get home?’

  ‘No. But I ain’t staying here any longer. I know when I’m not wanted.’

  ‘Meet me at the Farmhouse Tavern,’ Ray whispered. ‘I’ve got to pop out in a bit. I’ll buy you a pint.’

  Tommy smiled. ‘OK.’

  Tommy bought himself a large brandy and stared out of the window. He had never been inside the Farmhouse Tavern before, but the surroundings brought back plenty of memories. There was a gypsy site nearby and he could remember traipsing through the fields where the gypsies kept their horses. Smiffy had leapt on the back of one once. It had bucked, sending Smiffy sprawling. How he, Dumbo and Benny had laughed over that. Another time Dumbo had got chased by one. His long legs trying to sprint and the expression of fear on his face had been priceless.

  When Ray arrived, Tommy insisted on buying the drinks. ‘Please don’t insult me, Ray. It’s the least I can do after all you did for me.’

  ‘OK, Tommy. I’ll have a Guinness then, please.’

  Tommy placed the drinks on the table. ‘So, how you doing? Yvonne said you had cancer.’

  ‘Yes. Testicular. They had to remove one of my balls. I’m OK now though, touch wood.’ Ray tapped the table. ‘They gave me the all-clear on my last appointment. I haven’t got to go back for another six months.’

  ‘That’s great news, Ray. I’m pleased for you.’

  ‘So, how’s life treating you? I like your car. Very posh.’

  ‘I’m doing OK. I work for Jack Darling. We supply gaming machines to pubs. It pays well. I got hitched a bit too young, mind. But I’ve got a cracking son, Robbie.’ Tommy took a photo out of his pocket and handed it to Ray.

  ‘He’s a belter, Tommy. Handsome little chap.’

  ‘Thanks. He’s my reason for getting up in the morning.’

  Thinking that was an odd thing to say, Ray gently questioned Tommy about his marriage and life in general. The lad didn’t open up to him. Ray knew there was more to Tommy’s job than he was letting on. PC Kendall still visited Maylands from time to time and had told himself and Connie that Tommy was involved in some kind of pub protection racket.

  ‘So, why does Connie hate me so much? Is it because I let Scratch down on her birthday?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know, Tommy,’ Ray lied. ‘I haven’t seen or heard from Scratch since she left Maylands,’ he added in earnest.

  ‘I saw the photo of her in the office. Connie said she lived with a family and worked as their nanny.’

  ‘Yes. And that is all I know.’

  ‘You got an address for her?’

  ‘No. I haven’t. But I do know where you can find Benny and Dumbo. The info never came from me though, OK?’

  ‘Mum’s the word.’ Tommy tapped the side of his nose twice.

  ‘Benny works in a tyre shop along the A13, not far from the Princess Bowling Alley. It’s on the opposite side of the road. He’s got a kiddie now too.’

  ‘Has he!’

  ‘Yes. A little girl. He lives with the mother in Barking somewhere.’

  ‘What about Dumbo?’

  ‘The Cross Keys pub. He does odd jobs in there for the guvnor. If he’s not working, you’ll find him drinking in there.’

  ‘Thanks, Ray.’ Tommy handed him the envelope. ‘Connie wouldn’t take this off me, so I want you to take it. Treat all the kids to something nice. There’s a grand in there.’

  Ray smiled. ‘That’s ever so kind of you, Tommy. We had our budget cut earlier this year so money is a bit tight at present. I suppose I’d better make a move now before Connie gets suspicious. I need to get to the Post Office before it shuts too.’ Ray handed Tommy a piece of paper. ‘If you ever need anyone to talk to or confide in, call me on this number instead of Maylands. It’s my friend Stan’s. Leave a message and I’ll get straight back to you.’

  ‘OK. Will do.’ Tommy scribbled something on the back of a cigarette packet. ‘That’s my phone number. If you find out an address for Scratch, let me know. Don’t mention Scratch if my old woman answers though. She’s a possessive one, is Donna.’

  Ray put the cigarette box in his pocket. ‘You take care, Tommy. It’s been a joy seeing you again. Be happy, lad.’

  Tommy drove to the tyre fitters first. It had an open front. Reggae music blared out of a huge speaker.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ asked a bloke with dreadlocks.

  ‘Erm, I’m looking for an old pal of mine, Benny. I was told he worked here.’

  Dexter Evans eyed Tommy with suspicion. The tyre fitters was a cover for the more lucrative business of selling hashish. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Tommy Boyle.’ Benny wouldn’t know him as Tommy Darling.

  ‘Wait there.’

  It seemed fitting that as Benny strolled towards him Bob Marley’s ‘I Shot the Sheriff’ was playing. It was another song that reminded Tommy of their days at Maylands. Tommy grinned. Gone was Benny’s huge Afro. He had short dreadlocks with bright beads. The look suited him, even with his navy overalls on. ‘How you doing, mate?’

  ‘Yeah, good. What d’ya want?’

  Benny wasn’t smiling, didn’t look remotely pleased to see him. ‘I fancied a catch-up. What time d’ya finish? I’ll buy you a drink.’

  ‘No can do. Sorry.’

  ‘Another time?’

  ‘Not being funny, Tom. But you turn up out of the blue after blanking your pals for years. You can fuck right off, man.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Ben. Give me a break. I just got the cold shoulder from Connie.’

  ‘She tell you where I worked, did she?’

  ‘No. Somebody else did. I hear you’ve got a little girl. Congratulations. My son Robbie’ll be two soon. Christmas Day he was born.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a fuck about you or your son, Tommy. I’ve moved on in life, just like you did. I got proper friends these days, not fake ones.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry for not keeping in touch. You still see Dumbo?’

  ‘No. I gotta get back to work now. Don’t come ’ere again, will you? My boss is a bit funny. He don’t like strangers sniffing around.’

  ‘But I ain’t a fucking stranger, am I? We were good mates once, Benny.’

  ‘Were, yeah, once. Now we ain’t mates any more. Laters, Tommy.’

  Nobody had dared speak to him like that in years. He’d clumped blokes for far less. But this was Benny and Tommy couldn’t bring himself to wallop him, so he swallowed it, walking away without looking back.

  Six foot three and built like a beanpole, Dumbo was easy to spot propping up the bar in the Cross Keys. ‘Tommy!’ Dumbo shrieked, his eyes welling up.

  ‘How you doing?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Pissed,’ Dumbo chuckled, introducing Tommy to his equally inebriated friends.

  ‘What d’ya want to drink?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Snakebite. Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding? I thought we were mates.’

  ‘We are mates. I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast.’

  ‘But you left us all. You promised you would look after me when I left Shitlands and you fucking let me down,’ Dumbo slurred, when they finally sat down at a table. ‘You were gonna help me get a council flat.’

  ‘I know and I’m sorry.’ Tommy had had enough of apologizing for one day, was sick of saying the sorry word. ‘You seen Benny lately?’ Tommy aske
d.

  ‘Yeah. He sells drugs now. Always out with his new friends. He’s forgotten his old friends too.’

  ‘You heard from Scratch?’

  ‘Nope. Last time I saw her was on the day you were meant to be picking her up. She was so upset when Connie told her you were getting married that day. We all were.’

  ‘Shit,’ Tommy mumbled. No wonder Connie had the arse with him earlier. ‘Who told Connie I was getting married?’

  ‘I think Ray drove over to where you lived and the neighbour told him you got the girl pregnant and was getting hitched that day. You were bang out of order, Tommy. Scratch was in bits.’

  Tommy listened to Dumbo rambling on for another ten minutes or so before losing the will to live. Dumbo was that drunk, he could barely understand him. He felt bad enough over the way he’d treated Scratch, didn’t need to keep being reminded what an arsehole he was.

  ‘Where you going?’ Dumbo asked.

  ‘Home.’ Tommy pulled out a wad of money and handed Dumbo a hundred pounds. ‘Treat yourself to something nice for Christmas.’

  Dumbo’s eyes lit up. ‘Thank you, Tommy. When you coming here to see me again? It’s my birthday Friday week. Let’s go clubbing. Meet me in ’ere at eight o’clock.’

  ‘All right,’ Tommy lied. He would never return to Dagenham or Maylands. All those memories he’d held close to his heart had suddenly vanished. Dumbo was a drunk, Benny an arrogant prick and Connie a bitter bitch.

  His life belonged in South London now and if he was to be involved in the murders of Alfie and Glenn Archer, then so be it. The Darlings were the only true friends he had left. He was a Darling and his shit trip down memory lane made him want to never forget it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ‘Someone’s coming out,’ hissed Ronnie Darling. He stared into the side mirror. The nearby streetlight illuminated the two shadows. ‘Hold your horses … Nope. It ain’t them.’

  It was 4 a.m. and still there was no sign of Alfie and Glenn Archer. Every Thursday evening they attended an illegal card school above a greengrocer’s in Peckham and Jack had decided that was where they should be snatched.

  ‘You OK, Tommy?’ Danny asked. They were parked right in front of Alfie Archer’s silver Jaguar XJ6. The plan was for the lads to jump out of the back of the hooky gas van and bundle the Archers inside.

  Tommy was shivering, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It was freezing and he just wished the Archers would hurry up. He couldn’t feel his fingers, or his toes. ‘Yeah,’ he mumbled.

  Five minutes later, Ronnie said the words everyone had been waiting for: ‘It’s them. Ready. Go. Now!’

  Incredibly excited about the day ahead, Kim got up at 5 a.m. She knew where she was being posted to now. Islington wasn’t an area she was even remotely familiar with, but that was where she would be working, in N Division.

  Sam was also N Division. She’d been posted to Hornsey. Both girls were thrilled about this as they’d wanted to work near one another. Caroline and Keith had kindly offered to give Kim the deposit money to rent a flat, so that was the plan. She and Sam would share a flat together.

  Jay’s posting was to Limehouse. He was H Division. Leroy and John wouldn’t be too far away either. They’d both been posted to stations in East London.

  Having no family of her own, Kim had invited Caroline, Keith and the kids to her passing-out parade. They were the ones who’d helped mend her broken heart after leaving Maylands and had encouraged her to pursue her dream of becoming a WPC. Connie was coming too and Kim couldn’t wait to see them, show them what she’d achieved. She had missed them, but not as much as she thought she might. Hendon had certainly taught her how to stand on her own two feet.

  Kim picked up her warrant card and smiled. Any doubts she might have had were long gone. She’d made the right decision, without a doubt.

  In a disused building on the outskirts of Kent, Alfie and Glenn Archer were tied to two wooden chairs with thick rope.

  A stout, short balding man in his early fifties, Alfie Archer was the first to have the duct tape ripped from his mouth. ‘Well, well, well. Who’s a dirty boy then? Pissing in your strides is never a good look, is it, Alfie?’ Jack Darling chuckled.

  ‘Jack, let me explain, mate. None of what has happened is Glenn’s or my fault,’ Alfie gabbled. He and Glenn had expected some kind of retribution, but not a bloody ambush. The fact they were three sheets to the wind hadn’t helped matters. They’d been slung inside that van like lambs heading to the slaughter. Alfie was sober now, mind. In fact, he had never sobered up so quickly in his lifetime.

  Jack crouched in front of the trembling wreck. Alfie’s moustache didn’t suit him, it never had. ‘Whose fault is it then, Alfie? Ya know, that you tried to take over my boozers and trashed my gaming machines.’

  ‘Gerry Colloff. We owe him money – fifty grand, to be exact. We ain’t got the dosh to pay him. So, he made us work for him. It’s him who wants your pubs, not us.’

  ‘Who is Gerry Colloff?’ asked Ronnie.

  ‘Shut up,’ Jack hissed. He was shocked, stunned in fact. He and Suzie had never mentioned Colloff to their children.

  Gerry Colloff was the bloke his Suzie had been engaged to when he’d first met her. She’d called the engagement off shortly afterwards and Gerry had always vowed to have his revenge. He was no man’s fool, had done a fifteen stretch in Parkhurst for murder and had been behind a fair few riots in there. He’d palled up with Frankie Fraser before Frank had been released.

  Jack ripped the duct tape off Glenn. ‘This true, is it?’

  Glenn took a minute to catch his breath. He had a cold and was struggling to breathe through his nose. ‘Alf’s telling the truth, Jack,’ he wheezed. ‘I swear he is.’

  ‘So, where can I find Gerry?’

  ‘We don’t know. He’s based in the Costa del Sol,’ Glenn replied honestly.

  Picking up a wrench, Jack hit the side of Glenn’s head with such force both he and the chair went flying. ‘I want answers. Proper fucking answers. Now, I’m gonna ask you again, where can I find Gerry Colloff?’

  Aware that Jack had over-exerted himself and was currently out of breath, Tommy took the wrench off him and gave Glenn another clump, this time on the shoulder. ‘Answer the man,’ he bellowed.

  Blood was flowing from a gash above Glenn’s eye. He tried to lift his arm to wipe it away, but both arms were still secured to the chair. He looked up at them from the floor, terrified. ‘In the Costa del Sol, I swear. He was over in England about six weeks ago. We met up with him then.’

  ‘Glenn’s telling you the truth, Jack,’ Alfie said.

  ‘Shut up, you. You’ve always been a fucking old liar,’ Jack spat. He turned to his sons and Tommy. ‘See if removing a few teeth gets us some answers, lads. There’s a hammer in that bag and some pliers.’

  Spotting her adopted family among the crowd, Kim ran towards them, her arms outstretched. ‘I did it,’ she shrieked.

  Connie had tears in her eyes as she hugged the girl she’d nurtured and grown to love so very much. ‘Look at her in her uniform, Caroline. Doesn’t she look smart?’

  ‘Very smart. Well done, darling.’ Caroline flung her arms around Kim. ‘Keith and I are so proud of you. You’re a credit to us all.’

  ‘Over the bloody moon for you,’ Keith grinned.

  Desperate to get Kim’s attention, ten-year-old Fiona poked her in the arm. ‘Look what I made you.’

  The homemade card was a lovely gesture. Fiona had drawn a policewoman on the front, who looked just a teeny bit like her. ‘Thank you, sweetheart. I love it.’

  ‘Kim,’ said a little voice.

  Kim bent down and lifted Mikey out of his pushchair. ‘He’s got so big.’ She put her free arm around Fiona. ‘I’ve missed you both so much.’

  ‘They’ve missed you too,’ Caroline replied. ‘Fiona is so excited you’re coming home with us today and spending Christmas with us. Mikey’s learned lots of new words. He can’t
quite say your name properly yet, but he’s getting there. All we’ve heard on the journey here is Kim this and Kim that,’ Caroline chuckled. ‘Fiona is so in awe of you, she has now decided she wants to be a policewoman herself.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ Kim laughed. ‘Come and meet my friends. You’ll love them.’

  ‘Can I have a quick word with you? In private,’ Connie whispered in Kim’s ear. She had been debating whether to tell her, especially today of all days. But Kim had always been adamant that if Tommy did rear his ugly head she wanted to be told, immediately.

  Kim linked arms with Connie and excused herself from the others. ‘What’s up? Is Ray OK?’

  ‘Yes, Ray’s fine, love. The latest scan he had came back clear. Look, I didn’t know whether to tell you this today, but I’m going to. Tommy showed up at Maylands earlier this week.’

  Kim felt the colour drain from her complexion. ‘Why? What did he want?’

  ‘It was a social visit. He’d heard via the grapevine Ray had cancer. He turned up with a bottle of booze for Ray and an enormous bouquet for me. He then tried to give me a thousand pounds to treat the kids. I told him where to shove it, in my own polite manner.’

  ‘A thousand pounds!’

  Connie rolled her eyes. ‘He looks every inch of the little gangster I’d heard he’d become. Expensive suit, shoes, driving a big flash Mercedes. You had a lucky escape, my girl. I’m telling you.’

  There was silence for a long time.

  ‘Did he mention me?’

  ‘Yes. He asked after you. I told him what we agreed. I gave him short shrift, don’t you worry about that. He was in my office for no more than two minutes before I booted him out. I can tell Ray still has a soft spot for him, mind. The silly old sod.’

  ‘Oh, well. I doubt you’ll be seeing him again.’

  ‘Most definitely not! Now you go and enjoy your day. I am so very proud of you. Look how far you’ve come.’