CRUEL SECRETS Read online

  Ditto took Kelly out with him. They had their holdalls with samples and he was showing her how it all worked. The girls placed their orders and the runners delivered the goods. Reggie picked up the returns and the money; it was that simple. Commercial Road was another story. Rudy knew the Asians were buying fakes, but they would not entertain the boys because they looked like street dealers. He wanted Kelly to try. With her head held high, she approached the buyer and asked to go to the back of the warehouse to have a more private talk. The buyer was a slim and smartly dressed Indian who brazenly flirted with her. But she didn’t fall for the flattery. Instead, she negotiated the sales with ease and precision and would not back down on the price. He offered to sample the goods, starting at a hundred bags. Kelly agreed, on a sale-or-return basis, confident he would easily get rid of that amount. She had cleverly gone into Selfridges and carefully scrutinised the real thing and those fakes were spot on.

  So, despite her lack of experience, she was able to call on her assets, all for the benefit of her new family. An abundance of natural self-confidence, good looks – she actually looked much older, thanks to Lippy’s make-up skills – business acumen, and her determination to show her ‘boys’ she was no pushover, she was a winning combination and would have the Indians eating out of her hand. Who would have thought she was actually the girl in the police photos and wanted for murder? It was a joke, really.

  At first, Ditto was concerned with the sale-and-return issue, but when she pointed out that the copies were so good they would fly out of the door, he took her word for it.

  Ditto was the sweeter one of the two; he had long eyelashes and a light skin. He kept his hair cane rolled; it suited him. Reggie had a longer face and fancied himself as a bit of a hard man, bouncing when he walked and flicking his eyes from side to side, but underneath his cool exterior, he was just a harmless lad earning a crust.

  Five weeks had passed. Kelly was in her room fixing up a set of red curtains to match the poppy print bedding. She had purchased a wardrobe and a chest of drawers which was a laugh trying to get them through the door. The delivery men wouldn’t go inside the house so Ditto and Reggie had to help. Anyone watching would have thought it was a comedy set with the Chuckle Brothers.

  Once the furniture was inside and pushed up against the wall, Kelly started filling them with her own new clothes, courtesy of Rudy. She now had a long full-length mirror glued to the wall. Her mother would never have one. “Vanity is a sin,” she would say. Kelly laid out the make-up and hairbrushes. She now owned a curling tong. Life was on the up. She had pushed the Patrick incident to the back of her mind, as her nightmares had lessened and her future looked safe. She had everything she could possibly want. And Legend had taken up residence in her room and refused to go back upstairs. Kelly loved the big dog and often fell asleep with him next to her. She didn’t mind him being there and sometimes slobbery down her ear. She wasn’t used to hugs; she only received them from her aunt Bet, and other than her, she was never cuddled.

  Rudy and Lippy were in the lounge, watching the TV, when suddenly Kelly was on the news channel again. This time it was a different story. Her mother had been found murdered in her own home. Lippy glanced at Rudy with her hands over her mouth. Rudy was wide-eyed, like a bush baby.

  “Fuck me! Who would ’ave done that?” exclaimed Rudy.

  Lippy stared into space for a while.

  “What is it, Lip?”

  “I think it may ’ave been Bluey.”

  Rudy grinned, thinking that Lippy was joking. She shook her head. “Rudy, she hated her mother, I mean truly hated her …” She paused, in deep thought. “Rudy, has she ever told ya what that mother did to her?”

  He frowned. “Nah, what she do?”

  “She beat that dear chil’, scarred her back like a road map. I seen it for meself.”

  Sitting up straight, he said, “We need to tell her about her mother.”

  Rudy knocked on Kelly’s door. “Enter,” she chuckled. Rudy was surprised to find her little room looking so vibrant and fresh – a room fit for a teenager. Then he saw the life in her eyes and the cute grin across her face. She was wearing one of the fake Nike tracksuits, and her face was fresh and glowing, just as a young girl should look. He had come to know Kelly by now, and he was as certain as anyone could be, she hadn’t a bad bone in her body to brutally murder her own mother.

  “Yo, what’s happening?” she laughed, taking off Ditto’s words.

  “Bluey, babe, come with me into the other room. I need to tell ya something.”

  Kelly jumped from the bed and left the second curtain hanging. Concerned by the look on Rudy’s face, she followed him into the lounge. Lippy looked at her with compassion in her eyes and patted the seat next to her. Kelly now felt uneasy, sensing a tension in the room.

  “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it.” Lippy took a deep breath. “Ya mother was killed last night. It was on the news.”

  Unsure how to react, Kelly looked from one to the other. Was she heartless to shrug her shoulders? Or, should she appear to be sad? After all, that would be more normal. She thought for a moment. Should she actually have feelings for her mother or was her reaction – her feeling of indifference – weird? But the fact was, she hated her mother, and faking her reaction or not, the truth was still slapping her in the face. She just didn’t give a shit.

  “Oh, did they say who killed her?” She was still and calm.

  Rudy looked at Lippy and raised his eyebrow.

  “Err, they don’t know yet, but, sugar, they mentioned that you were still missing,” replied Lippy.

  Kelly shot an implied glance at Rudy. “Jesus, you don’t think I had anything to do with it, do ya?” Her eyes begged to be believed.

  Rudy shook his head. “It didn’t cross me mind.”

  With puckered lips, Lippy threw Rudy a cynical smirk.

  “Who would have killed her? I mean, I know one day I probably would have, but I didn’t, so I wonder who did?” she asked, with a blank face.

  Rudy wanted to laugh. It was such a strange reaction from Kelly. He walked over to his grandad chair and slumped himself like a sack of shit. “Beats me, babe.”

  *

  Eddie Raven was downing a well-deserved pint at the Ocean Inn pub on the south coast. He had been released from prison a week previously, and then he had headed straight for Hythe to his hideaway pad. It wasn’t a small, insignificant home either – far from it. But Eddie Raven was one for an all-over flash existence.

  He was on a life licence for the murder of two men. Luckily, he hadn’t used his shooter that time, so he only served twelve years.

  *

  Five years before he was arrested, he had carried out a robbery of rare and valuable diamonds. The idea had come from Patrick Mahoney’s sister, suggesting that there were items of extreme value sitting there, waiting for the taking. Eddie was the mastermind behind it and planned the execution to what he had thought was a faultless finish. He had a strong team. Mickey ‘no thumbs’ O’Toole was his daft sidekick; he had stupidly raised his hands when a rival firm ‘heavy’ attacked him with a machete – hence the loss of his two thumbs. The explosives expert was Jack McFarlane, otherwise known as Jack ‘Black’, on account that he was so white: he had white skin, white hair, and grey eyes. He wore thick bottle-end glasses that made his eyes look ten times their size.

  The very first big job they did was a travel agency. They got away with £5 million in travellers cheques and all three were living it up in Spain for a year.

  Not much more than a kid at that time, Eddie was a cocky lad and clearly going places, so it wasn’t long before he and his men came back to England wanting more of the action. The first bank break-in should have been a straightforward stick-up job, although it actually turned out to be fast and reckless; nevertheless, they got away with it. The second one was so carefully planned that they went under the sewers and drilled up through the floor. Although the
money they stole greatly exceeded all expectations, it was more about the audacious style of the robbery itself, as it earned these villains serious kudos among the criminal fraternity. So Eddie, Jack, and Mickey, with money and clout behind them, began to call the shots within their patch in South London.

  Some of the old-school villains were in with them, and within a few years, Eddie had it all sewn up. He wasn’t stupid and listened to the likes of Cyril Reardon and Frank ‘the butcher’. They were almost old enough to be his father but wise enough to have him onside. They weren’t getting any younger, and the truth was the manor needed a ruthless and young-bloodied villain to run it. Eddie ticked all the right boxes.

  It was Cyril who had first taken Eddie under his wing, when he was fifteen. Starting off in small petty crimes, he worked his way up, viciously taking people down who got in his way – all except Cyril and his firm, that is. Instead of trying to take them on, he joined them, along with his mates, Jack and Mickey. Any business to be had in South London was taken by Cyril. Eddie was growing an empire with his protection racket and cocaine deals. But he wanted more and wasn’t happy unless he was constantly turning his hand to illegal moneymaking scams. It wasn’t long before the older men backed off and allowed Eddie to run the firm. It was easier for them, as they had their money and were living with only one hand in the game.

  Eddie’s sidekicks, both older than him, were involved in a third job. It was their biggest yet – a safe deposit heist – and Jack and Mickey got seriously greedy, as Eddie saw it.

  It was late January 1994 when the heist took place. The gang knew they had a small window of opportunity because the next patrol would take place at 3.15 a.m. All the valuables they wanted – jewellery, watches and gems – were placed in fifteen small holdalls. The most important one was holdall thirteen. This contained a black pouch holding a number of gems of which two, in particular, were highly valuable. The holdalls were filled to the brim, and they counted each one, as they were thrown into the van. A horn sounded. Mickey nodded for Eddie to go and see what the noise was outside. That was when Jack opened holdall thirteen, grabbed the blue gem he wanted, and, for good measure, he and Mickey removed some jewellery and precious stones from some of the other holdalls, placing them in special body pouches made for the occasion and hidden under their clothing.

  By the time Eddie returned, they had all the bags loaded, ready to take to the van. And, indeed, they both assumed Eddie was none the wiser. Little did they know though that he had a plan of his own. He had conspired with his source – and part-time lover – to take the largest of the blue gems from the pouch, whilst his men were busy in another room. Eddie had taken this one, as he assumed it was the most valuable in the collection. In fact, its true value was around £1 million. He was unaware, though, that the smaller gem, which Jack stole, was worth considerably more.

  *

  In his typical offhand manner, Eddie asked the barmaid for another pint. She looked him up and down. He wasn’t from these parts and seemed out of place in his smart tailored suit. Janice craved excitement; she had worked in the pub for twelve years now and wanted to get out of Dymchurch. She had only moved there with her husband because he craved the country life. However, unlike her husband, she missed the bright lights of London and found herself twiddling her thumbs and suffering her loveless marriage.

  Eddie was gagging for a decent screw with little affection. He didn’t fancy paying for it either. He wasn’t the sort for sweet talk. So he leaned across the bar and flicked his head for Janice to come closer.

  “What’s ya name, gorgeous?” His raspy voice stole her attention.

  Janice wasn’t looking her best and could have kicked herself. He was just her type. She loved men with a mystery about them. With his dark hair, falling neatly around his ears, and his green smouldering eyes, he was every woman’s fantasy. It was hard to judge his age, maybe forty-odd. But it was his smooth smile she liked. It was a half-cocky grin that said I am a real fucker. She summed him up. Yes, he was a bad boy.

  “Janice. Why, what’s it to you?” she responded in her usual flippant way.

  Eddie laughed and walked outside to have a cigarette. Janice was used to men flirting with her. Not a bad-looking woman at thirty-five, she could easily get away with being at least ten years younger. Well, in her own mind, that is. Her long blonde hair was almost down to her waist and her eyes were always heavily made-up – they were certainly her best assets. She kept her figure trim and showed it off, wearing body-contoured dresses and killer heels. Jolting her out of her daydreaming, Old Major slammed his empty pint glass on the counter, mumbling under his breath.

  “Major, what d’ya want? Ya usual, love?”

  One of the old locals, Old Major nodded and slapped his change down.

  Gazing out of the window at the mystery man, Janice pulled Old Major’s pint.

  Since there was no one else to serve, she popped out of the back door and into the ladies’. There, she reapplied her lipstick and took her hair out of the ponytail, allowing it to fall messily around her face. She knew she looked good like that. This could be my lucky day, she thought.

  When she returned, there was the mystery man supping his pint.

  “I ain’t seen you before. Down on ya holidays, are ya?”

  Eddie was leaning with one arm on the bar. He didn’t answer right away; instead, he just smiled. Then, as he stood up straight, she noticed he didn’t have a beer belly – not even a small paunch – and looked in great shape.

  “No, I have me own place in Hythe,” he smirked cockily.

  She smiled, as she thought, this gets better and better. “Me name’s Janice but you can call me Jan.” What she wanted to say was, ‘You can call me what the fuck you like, as long as you’re on top, shagging the life out of me’.

  “Nice to meet you, Jan. You can call me Ed.” He grinned and winked. He didn’t miss a trick; her loose hair and added lipstick were all telltale signs that this fit-looking bird was as ready as he was for a great time. Unless she was interested in the old sergeant major, there was no one else in the pub.

  Janice leaned on the bar close to Eddie. “I gotta say, ya kinda look out of place here. I guess ya from London?”

  He nodded and laughed. “You sussed me, then?”

  With his smile oozing sex, and his half-closed emerald eyes, he took a loose strand from Janice’s hair and twiddled it round his finger.

  With a feeble attempt at playing coy, she asked, “’Ere for a while, then?”

  “I might be, if I have good reason to be.”

  Janice raised her well-defined drawn on eyebrow and heaved her small chest over the bar, pleased she had worn her push-up bra.

  “Shift work?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Yep, I get off in ten minutes.” Looking at the clock, she hoped he would whisk her away. Tommy, her husband, was out on a fishing trip, so she could easily kill a few hours.

  “Fancy a ride, blow the cobwebs away?” he asked, with sheer menace in his tone.

  “Yeah, why not.” She tried to act cool, but inside she was screaming with excitement.

  The flash car said it all; he was a villain and she was in her element. Her husband had once been into crime too, but when they moved away from London, he stopped any nonsense, got a job in the power station, and settled down to a boring life. Janice only took the barmaid’s job in the hope of a bit of excitement. She had found it now!

  Ten minutes later, they were pulling into his drive. She looked up at the monster of a house and smiled. He had money all right and bundles of it. He didn’t say too much, but he did open the door for her to step out – a proper gentleman, or so he seemed.

  They didn’t waste time with the small talk; within minutes, they were naked and in the huge bed between top-quality Egyptian cotton sheets. He was gentle at first, and then, when he felt her get excited, he threw her all over the bed. Janice loved it. Her husband was a plain old missionary-position man. She liked the rough, ha
rd shag. Ed was in control; he was strong and held her up against the wall, banging away, until, finally, they both came. They lay there for a while, catching their breath.

  Getting up to go to the bathroom, Eddie grabbed her by the arm, “Oi, where do you think you’re going?” His voice was now very different, somehow menacing in tone.

  Janice’s eyes widened, now scared she had bitten off more than she could chew. Naked in this guy’s house, a stranger, who blew hot and cold, was not clever. He sensed she was afraid, but many people felt the same; he was used to it. Accordingly, he softened his tone. “Come here and give us a kiss.”

  She laughed then and fell on top of him. His urge back again, he threw her on her back and pulled her legs apart. She was loving it, as he entered her and bashed away, for far longer this time. But Janice was now sore and hoped he would finish soon. She glanced up at the clock and noticed they had been shagging for two hours solid. Finally, he jerked, it was over, and he flopped down beside her.

  “Cor, blimey, Ed, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk straight.”

  He didn’t say anything this time, as she walked to the bathroom. The full-length mirror lit up, when she turned the light on, and she looked like she had just been fucked within an inch of her life. Her hair was a mess and her lipstick was all around her mouth. She sat on the toilet for a while, thinking about this man and her Tommy. She needed a shower but was careful not to get her hair wet. How would she explain that one: wet hair?

  Drying herself off quickly, she combed her hair and returned to the bedroom. He was gone. She climbed back into her tacky tube dress and headed downstairs. Janice hadn’t really absorbed her surroundings, when she had entered his house, so intent on getting a good shag. The kitchen was as big as her home, with its marble floors, granite tops, and huge glass doors, which opened out to a well-kept garden. Eddie was in his boxers and the light showed every contour of his body. With his olive skin, making him look younger, and his piercing green eyes, he had all the hallmarks of a good-looking man. She smiled, feeling very self-conscious. She knew she was attractive, but looking at him, she was probably out of his league. He could pull any bird younger and prettier than her. With this realisation was the urge to go home, back to her Tommy. Yes, he was as boring as a slut on her period, but she felt comfortable with him.