Текст книги "Dangerous Promises"

Автор книги: Roberta Kray

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

Petra put down the knife. ‘Well?’

Wayne leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. ‘Seems that Sadie girl ain’t quite as innocent as she makes out. You know that picture in the paper, the one of her and Eddie?’

‘What about it?’

‘Old Pym recognised her. He reckons she and Nathan Stone are at it. Says he saw them together down the dogs the night before Eddie got wasted.’

‘And you believe him?’

‘Why not? Makes sense, don’t it? She and Stone are in this together. She wanted Eddie out of the way and so Stone got one of Terry’s boys to take him out.’

Petra pulled out a chair and sat down. She put her chin in her hands and thought about it. Pym was a skinny furtive bloke who had once worked – albeit in a lowly position – for Terry Street’s predecessor, Joe Quinn. He dealt in information, in rumour and gossip, in anything that might earn him a few bob from interested parties. ‘How can he be sure it was her?’

‘You know Pym. He’s good on faces. He swears it was. Says the two of them were all cosied up, having a meal with some other couple. Can’t be a coincidence, can it?’

‘Does the law know?’

Wayne gave a shrug. ‘You think we should tell Kel?’

Petra shook her head. ‘Not right now.’ It was only a week since Kelly had found Eddie’s body and she was still all over the place, ranting and raving one minute, crying uncontrollably the next. ‘Let’s keep it to ourselves until we’re sure. There’s no saying what she’ll do if she gets wind of this.’

Wayne gave a belch, expelling his beery breath across the table. ‘I told you, didn’t I? This has Street’s name written all over it.’

‘Not exactly,’ said Petra, grimacing as the smell invaded her nostrils. ‘What you said is that it could be payback for Vinnie Keane.’

‘Same difference.’

‘It’s not though, is it?’

‘And how do you figure that?’

Petra, knowing that her son hadn’t been blessed with a surfeit of brains, had to spell it out for him. ‘If Sadie Wise wanted rid of her husband and got Stone to arrange it for her, Eddie’s death has nothing to do with what happened to Vinnie Keane. You’re making a connection where there isn’t one. You’re taking it personal.’

‘Of course I’m taking it bleedin’ personal,’ he protested. ‘Whatever the reason, Eddie was still Kel’s boyfriend.’

Petra gave a shrug. ‘It wouldn’t have lasted. Come on, you know what Eddie was like. He was hardly the faithful type; a girl couldn’t walk into a room without him giving her the eye. You didn’t even like the bloke.’

‘So what?’

‘So you’re planning on going to war over some guy you didn’t give a damn about. Where’s the sense in that?’

‘It’s the principle,’ Wayne said.

‘Well, it’s a shit principle.’ Petra knew there would only be one winner if the Gissings took on Terry Street – and it wouldn’t be Wayne and his cousins. It was over ten years since the murder of Joe Quinn, and Terry Street’s rise to the top had been meteoric. Within a few months of his former boss’s death, he’d taken over the firm and been running Kellston ever since. He was smarter than Joe, less brutal but just as ruthless. Although Terry didn’t go looking for trouble, he would never back down from it either.

‘That’s your opinion.’

‘You should have a word with your dad before you do anything.’ Petra didn’t say this out of any respect for Roy’s judgement – he didn’t have any – but purely as a delaying tactic. It would be another week before a visiting order became available and a lot could happen in seven days.

‘He’ll say the same as me.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. But there’s no point in going off half-cock before you’ve got the whole picture. If Terry did organise this hit, then you can get the law to do your dirty work for you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if someone was to tip them the wink about Sadie’s involvement with Nathan Stone, then she might finally get arrested. And as soon as that happens, she’s going to start trying to shift the blame on to Stone and Terry Street. She’ll be singing like a canary, no doubt about it. With a bit of luck they could all go down for a long stretch and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.’

Wayne’s befuddled brain was clearly struggling to come to terms with the concept of a different kind of revenge. His mouth opened a little and his eyes narrowed into two tight slits. ‘If Terry Street wasted Eddie, I’ll deal with him myself.’

Petra raised her own eyes to the ceiling. ‘And then you’ll be the one doing the stretch. Is that what you want? Maybe you and your dad can bunk up together. That’ll be nice, a real family reunion.’ She knew it was all to do with male pride, with machismo and respect – but none of those things meant anything to her. ‘What’s wrong with doing it the smart way for a change?’

‘You saying I’m stupid?’

‘I’m saying there’s more than one way to skin a cat.’ Petra was aware that all the Gissing men were the same; subtlety wasn’t their strong point. Respect was everything and they tried to earn it with their fists. However, violence could only take you so far in this world; if you really wanted to succeed you needed guile and a little bit of finesse. ‘Just think about it,’ she urged, not wanting to find herself in the middle of a war with Terry Street’s firm.

‘Think about what?’ asked Sharon, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.

Petra glared at her. The younger woman was still in her dressing gown, a pale pink silky wrap hanging open at the front to show a good deal of cleavage. ‘None of your business.’

‘Still here then?’ she snarled at Petra.

‘Where else would I be?’

‘Back in your own bleedin’ house where you belong.’ Sharon pushed past her, switched the kettle on and then, aware of the silence, turned, folded her arms across her ample chest and said, ‘Don’t stop on my account.’

‘We were just talking about Eddie,’ Wayne said.

Sharon gave a sigh. ‘Yeah, poor bloke. It’s a right shame. I liked him. He was a good laugh.’

Petra threw Wayne a dirty look – why couldn’t he take her side for once? – but he didn’t bat an eyelid. He didn’t even notice. Despite the hangover, his gaze was firmly fixed on Sharon’s tits. She felt her stomach shift with revulsion; there was something disgusting about watching her son lech over the woman who’d replaced her. ‘Ain’t you got stuff to do?’ she said to him.

‘Like what?’

‘Like finding out what else Pym might know.’

‘He don’t know nothin’ else.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘He’d have said.’

‘That little creep always knows more than he lets on. You should have another word.’

The kettle boiled and Sharon looked at Wayne. ‘Fancy a brew, babe?’ she asked, deliberately ignoring Petra.

‘I wouldn’t say no. Ta.’

Sharon gave Petra a triumphant smile as she reached for the mugs.

Petra’s gaze fell on the knife that she’d been using to chop the carrots. For a few brief seconds she thought it would be almost worth doing the time just to wipe the smug smile off the bitch’s face. She took a few deep breaths before moving away from the counter and heading for the door. ‘See you later.’

‘Where are you going?’ Wayne asked.

‘Out.’

‘Out where?’

But Petra didn’t bother to answer. In the hall, as she put on her coat and scarf, she could still hear them talking.

‘So what’s going on with that Sadie?’

‘Fuck knows,’ Wayne said. ‘But I’ll tell you something, if I could have five minutes with the murderous cow I’d get the truth out of her.’

‘So why don’t you?’

‘Because I don’t know where she lives.’

‘You can find that out easy enough.’

‘You reckon?’ Wayne asked.

‘Sure. I bet Eddie’s parents have an address. Why don’t you ask Kel to get it for you?’

Petra pursed her lips. She knew the kind of damage her son could inflict in five minutes. What was the stupid bitch playing at? Did she want to see Wayne behind bars? Jesus, the slut was only making things worse.

Petra opened the front door and slammed it closed behind her. There was a phone box round the corner. If no one else was going to ring the filth, she would. She’d muffle her voice with the scarf and give them the lowdown on Sadie Wise and Nathan Stone. With any luck, they’d get to her before Wayne did.

22

Sadie didn’t normally go to church with Joel on a Sunday but this morning she had considered it, wondering if she should, if it was the right and proper thing to do after Eddie’s death. Shouldn’t she go and say a prayer or something? And yet it felt kind of hypocritical, bearing in mind that she rarely went near the place. She wasn’t even sure if she believed in God, even though – like most people – she was prone to ask for his help in times of trouble. And Eddie had never been religious. If heaven did exist, he’d have to use all his charm to get through those pearly gates.

In the end, she had decided to walk down to the front instead. Now she stood watching, her hands deep in her pockets, as the grey angry waves lashed against the shore. She thought about the man she’d married all those years ago, of the fun they’d had before it all turned sour. If felt like another age, another lifetime. She tried to conjure up the love she’d once felt for him, but all that remained was a thin kind of sadness.

As the cold wind whipped around her, Sadie toyed – not for the first time – with the idea of ringing Eddie’s parents. She felt that she ought to, but wasn’t sure if they’d welcome the call. Since her separation from their son, they hadn’t been on the best of terms. That, however, wasn’t the only reason she’d been putting it off; she was worried that they might suspect her of murder, that in looking for someone to blame their fingers would point in her direction. And what could she do about that? Swear that she was innocent, that she’d had nothing to do with it? That could make her appear even guiltier.

The ongoing silence from the police filled her with as much uneasiness as it did relief. It was a week now since Eddie’s murder, a week since she had gone to the Mansfield estate and asked him to sign the divorce papers. Why hadn’t they arrested anyone yet? For as long as the killer remained on the loose, her name would not be cleared and a cloud of suspicion would continue to hang over her.

Sadie felt a pang of guilt at even thinking of herself at a time like this. Eddie was dead, gone for ever, and she was fretting over her own situation. The truth would come out eventually, wouldn’t it? But sometimes the truth wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Every time the phone rang, she jumped, wondering if it was the cops or another call from Mona. She wasn’t sure which would be worse.

In her head, she continued to replay the two conversations she’d had with Mona Farrell, going over and over everything that had been said on the train, everything that had been said on Thursday evening. She still couldn’t believe that the girl was crazy enough to have killed. And yet… well, it wasn’t impossible.

‘Oh, Eddie,’ she sighed. ‘You may have been trouble but you didn’t deserve this.’

The wind caught her voice and snapped it away. She gazed out towards the horizon where the sea merged into the sky in a fine line of grey. A few drops of rain were starting to fall. She wished she could talk things over with Joel, that she had been more honest with him since returning from London. Why hadn’t she mentioned the strange meeting with Mona? But she knew why not. Because she hadn’t wanted to dwell on what had happened in London, not on any part of it. She had wanted to brush it all under the carpet.

Glancing down at her watch, Sadie saw that it was past eleven. The church service would be over by now. It was time to go home and tell the truth. The burden of lies was getting too much for her. She would come clean and tell Joel everything. She shivered a little at the thought of everything. Well, perhaps there wasn’t any need to tell him about Nathan Stone. What if he thought that something iffy had gone on between them? What if he started having doubts about her fidelity?

‘Damn it,’ she said, closing her eyes for a moment. Already she was backtracking, trying to think up reasons for being economical with the truth. Perhaps, like her mother, a part of her feared that Joel would suddenly wake up, see the real Sadie Wise and decide that he didn’t much like her.

And whose fault would that be?

‘My own stupid fault,’ she murmured.

Sadie took a deep breath, tasting the salt in the back of her throat. She gave the wild grey waves a final look before turning away, bowing her head against the wind and heading for home. While she walked she rehearsed what she would say in her mind, searching for the words, for an adequate explanation as to why she hadn’t been completely honest in the first place.

It wouldn’t be easy but as long as Joel trusted her, really trusted her, it would be okay. When she reached Buckingham Road, she suddenly got a song in her head, ‘I Got You Babe’, the version by UB40 and Chrissie Hynde. She sang along to the lyrics under her breath, drawing strength from the sentiments, starting to believe – finally – that she was on the right path.

By the time she reached home, Sadie was as eager to divulge her secrets as a sinner queuing at the confessional. She hated hiding things from Joel; it made her feel deceitful and lonely. She took the stairs two at a time, eager to get it all out in the open, to get it over and done with. But as she opened the door to the second-floor flat she heard the murmur of voices coming from the living room. Immediately, her heart sank. Joel must have brought some friends home from church. She had wanted to talk to him in private but now it would have to wait.

Sadie hung up her coat on the peg in the hall, painted on a smile and went on through. Joel was in one of the easy chairs and a girl was perched on the edge of the sofa with a mug in her hand. They both turned their heads to look at her.

‘Look who’s here,’ Joel said.

‘Hi, Sadie. How are you?’

It took a few seconds for the girl’s face to properly register, for Sadie to realise who it actually was. She stopped dead in her tracks, paralysed by shock and horror. The intake of her breath must have been clearly audible. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. But no amount of denial could change the fact that Mona Farrell, bold as brass, was sitting right in front of her. ‘W-what are you doing here?’ she stammered.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Mona said. ‘I probably should have called, but I was in the area and thought I’d just pop in and see how you’re doing.’

Sadie stared at her, her thoughts beginning to spin as the adrenalin kicked in. Fight or flight? What she wanted to do was turn on her heel and make a run for it. Her heart was banging in her chest, her pulse racing. She could feel the dryness of her lips as she forced a few words out. ‘I didn’t realise you knew anyone round here.’

‘Yes, I’ve got an aunt in Liverpool.’

‘Really?’ asked Sadie brusquely. ‘You never mentioned it.’

‘Didn’t I? Well, she hasn’t been living there for long.’

During this brief exchange, Sadie became aware that Joel was looking puzzled, probably wondering why she was being so abrupt. But she couldn’t help herself. How could she be polite to this woman? How could she welcome her into her home? But she couldn’t throw her out either, not without looking like a prize cow. She inwardly cursed the fact that she hadn’t got back earlier, that she hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to Joel before Mona turned up.

‘Anne’s been telling me how you met,’ he said.

Sadie felt her blood run cold. ‘What?’ If she was going to speak out, she had to do it now before the chance slipped away for ever. She had to say: This girl isn’t called Anne, she’s called Mona Farrell and I only met her ten days ago. This girl’s crazy and I think she might have murdered Eddie. But even as the words sprang on to her tongue, she quickly swallowed them down. The only person who would end up looking crazy was herself.

Mona smiled at her. ‘In that pub, remember? The one on the South Bank.’

Sadie’s gaze flew between the two of them. Mona, she noticed, appeared different to when they’d met on the train. Her spiky black hair had been smoothed down and the bright red lipstick replaced by a more subtle shade of pink. Instead of wearing black, she was dressed in a demure navy blue dress with a cream cardigan. ‘Was it?’

‘Yes, you were with Eddie and the two of you —’

But before Mona could embellish her imaginary tale, Sadie lurched forward on unsteady legs and made a dash for the kitchen. She felt like she was going to be sick. Leaning over the sink, she closed her eyes and clung tightly to the cool metal edge. Her throat contracted but only a thin dry retching sound came out.

Joel hurried in after her and placed an arm protectively around her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong? What’s the matter? Are you ill?’

Sadie’s lips parted and she tried to speak but couldn’t.

‘You look as white as a sheet,’ he said.

She felt hot and feverish. Quickly she ran the tap and splashed some cold water on her face. The nausea passed leaving in its wake a dull, ugly dread. She knew she had to pull herself together, try and stop herself from falling to pieces. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘I just… It must have been something I ate. I’m okay now. I’m fine.’

Joel passed her a tea towel. ‘You don’t look fine.’

Sadie dried off her face, glanced towards the living room and lowered her voice. ‘How… how long has she been here for?’

‘Not long. Only twenty minutes or so. She was at the front door when I got back.’ He paused and then added, ‘We’ve been having a chat. She seems nice.’

Sadie flinched at the word. Nice? He had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no idea either that her sudden desire to vomit had been a reaction to finding Mona Farrell in her living room. ‘I don’t understand what she’s doing here.’ And then, because that came out sounding petulant, she quickly continued, ‘I mean, I don’t know her that well. It’s not as though we’re best friends or anything. Why would she turn up out of the blue?’

He gave a shrug. ‘I think it’s like she said. She was just in the area. She’d heard about Eddie and wanted to make sure you were okay.’

And Sadie knew that if she was going to tell the truth, now was the time. If she didn’t, there would be no going back. ‘Joel,’ she began, ‘there’s something —’

But before she could even start to explain, Mona’s voice came from the doorway. ‘Are you all right, Sadie?’

Sadie glared back at her. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?’

Yes, Sadie wanted to scream, you can get out of my flat and leave me alone. But instead she simply shook her head and muttered, ‘No, no I’m all right.’

‘Maybe we should leave this afternoon,’ Joel said. ‘I’m sure Mum won’t mind.’

It was only at that moment that Sadie remembered they were supposed to be going over to Joel’s parents’ house for his mother’s birthday celebrations. It was an event she hadn’t been looking forward to, even though she liked Frank and Emily Hunter. She knew that the local gossips would have been busy whispering about Eddie’s murder and didn’t relish the prospect of being the focus of their attention. On the other hand, if she didn’t attend, it might look like she had something to hide. ‘Of course we have to go,’ she said, feigning more enthusiasm than she actually felt. ‘It’s her birthday.’ And also, she thought, it would be a good excuse to get rid of Mona.

‘Oh, I should get off,’ Mona said. ‘I didn’t realise you had plans. I don’t want to be in the way.’

And Joel, forever polite, then said the last words Sadie wanted to hear. ‘You’re not. You should come along if you’ve nothing else to do.’

Sadie threw him a pleading look but it was already too late. The invitation had been made and couldn’t be withdrawn.

‘Are you sure?’ Mona asked. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

‘You wouldn’t be. Lots of people are coming. You’re more than welcome. Isn’t she, Sadie?’

Sadie, having been put on the spot, could hardly say no. ‘Yes,’ she mumbled. ‘Of course.’

‘Good. That’s settled then. We’ll all go together.’

‘I’d better get changed,’ Sadie said. ‘I won’t be long.’ She hurried out of the kitchen, her eyes briefly meeting Mona’s as she passed. There was, she thought, a gleam of triumph in them. With a sinking heart, she went through the living room and into the bedroom.