The Victim. Kimberley Chambers
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Nan. I’ll ring work, tell ’em I’m ill and I’ll be with you within the hour.’
After he’d found his father’s photograph lying horizontal on the living-room carpet, Eddie had knocked back a large brandy to calm his fragile nerves. He had then taken it upon himself to call an emergency meeting. None of the lads were very happy at being woken at 7 a.m., but that was tough shit; he was the boss and he called the shots.
As per usual, Eddie had ordered the meeting to be held at his Auntie Joanie’s house. These days he would never chance any of their important gatherings being held anywhere but. He was too worried about the Old Bill; they weren’t so backward as they used to be. The filth had been well pissed off when the jury had found him not guilty of the murder and manslaughter charges against Jessica. He’d still done bird for unlawful possession of a firearm but knowing how desperate the rozzers were to lock him up and throw away the key, Ed would never put it past the bastards to bug his, Gary’s, Ricky’s or Raymond’s home addresses. Joanie’s house was by no means foolproof, but it was definitely the best for security purposes and also better than meeting in a café or some poxy boozer.
Ed had called the meeting for 9 a.m. He had to meet O’Hara at twelve in Upminster, so he’d had no choice but to call it on so early. Due to the decrepit state of the A13, Eddie arrived at his aunt’s at twenty to ten. Joanie answered the door and, pushed for time, Ed gave her a quick peck on the cheek and darted straight up the stairs.
‘Shall I make you a pot of tea and some sarnies?’ Joanie shouted out.
‘No thanks, Auntie. We’re fine, sweetheart,’ Eddie replied.
Raymond, Gary and Ricky were already sitting around the big mahogany table with glum expressions on their faces. Gary and Ricky had both been on the piss until the early hours and felt like crap, and Raymond had had an earful from Polly, as he’d had to tell her that something important had cropped up and he couldn’t attend the antenatal clinic with her.
‘This better be fucking important, Dad,’ Gary said, thoroughly pissed off that he’d been woken so early then his old man had had the audacity to turn up late.
Eddie grabbed a bottle of Scotch from the bar and ordered everybody to drink one.
‘For Christ’s sake, Ed. It ain’t even ten o’clock. I was meant to go somewhere with Polly and she’ll annihilate me if I go home smelling of booze.’
Not in the mood for Raymond’s marital issues, Eddie knocked back his drink in record time and slammed the empty glass on the table. ‘Fuck Polly, this is business and what I’ve got to say is far more important than anything your old woman will say to ya later.’
Raymond immediately shut up and, as Ed began to tell the story of what he’d agreed with Jimmy O’Hara, Gary and Ricky sat open mouthed.
‘So, when your grandfather’s picture fell off the wall, I just knew I’d done the wrong thing. Call it fate, but I know now I can’t go through with it,’ Ed said remorsefully, concluding the tale.
Ricky knocked back his Scotch and looked at his father in outright disgust. ‘How could you pay to arrange your own brothers’ deaths in the first place? That is sick, Dad, fucking proper sick. Say O’Hara gets to them somehow?’
Gary shook his head in disbelief. ‘I know Paulie and Ronny are a pair of useless cunts, but they’re still family, Dad.’
‘Yes, I know they’re family, but they ballsed up, not us. All I was trying to do was keep the rest of us safe. O’Hara ain’t gonna let this rest, you know. If he can’t get to them, he’ll come for us, I just fuckin’ know he will.’
Gary gave a sadistic smirk. ‘Worried about your new fancy piece, are ya?’ he asked sarcastically.
As Eddie grabbed his eldest son by the neck, Raymond intervened and dragged Eddie away. ‘For fuck’s sake, arguing and fighting amongst ourselves ain’t gonna solve this, is it? Let’s get a grip and sort this out sensibly, shall we?’
Ray turned to Gary and Ricky. They were good lads, but they were also playboys. Gary was twenty-nine now and Ricky twenty-seven. They were both handsome boys, but neither had settled down. Therefore, they had no idea about what it was like to worry about a wife or kids.
‘Your father has got a point, you know. If anything happened to my Polly or the baby, I couldn’t deal with it. Yous two are single: once you settle down and have kids of your own, you’ll understand where your dad’s coming from.’
Gary shrugged. He had no intention of settling down. Tarts were a pain in the arse and ‘love ’em and leave ’em’, was his motto. ‘So what happens now, then? Are you just not gonna turn up to meet O’Hara?’
Eddie rubbed the stubble on his face. He used slow movements from his cheeks to his chin like he often did when he was deep in thought. ‘I’ve got the dosh on me. I think I should still meet O’Hara and pay him the thirty grand. It sounds big bucks but it’s peanuts to me. Let him think he’s still got a deal. He won’t get to Ronny and Paulie, not if I put the word about.’
‘And how you gonna stop him fuckin’ getting to ’em?’ Ricky asked wisely.
‘Ginger Mick, Lee Adams, Scouse Lenny – they’re all banged up in Belmarsh and they all owe me a favour or two. I’ll get word to Paulie and Ronny to spend as much time as possible inside their cells. Any time they come out, I’ll have someone watch their backs.’
‘It’s an impossibility to get someone to watch over Ronny and Paulie all the time, Dad. I mean, how do you know that your pals are even on the same wing as them?’
‘Because I made phone calls on the way here. Flatnose Freddie knows everything; he also told me that Paulie and Ronny are sharing a cell. He reckons if they hadn’t have spilled their guts to the filth, the system would have definitely split ’em up, but they did, so no one cares. Also, the screws don’t wanna be bothered clearing up Ronny’s shit and piss. They ain’t got a lot of time for cripples, I know that for a fact. That poor raspberry who was a few cells away from me in Wandsworth, the one that had strangled his mother, he was left to rot. That’s why Paulie is sharing with Ronny; the authorities want Paulie to take care of the cunt, save them a job.’
Raymond was worried, very worried. ‘Jimmy O’Hara ain’t no mug, Ed. I know he’s been out the frame for a few years, but don’t underestimate him. His son and grandkid have been killed, for Christ’s sake and he ain’t gonna be happy if he can’t get revenge of some kind.’
Eddie poured himself another large Scotch. ‘Look, these pikeys are backward bastards deep down. There is no way O’Hara will think I’ve parted with thirty grand if I ain’t in agreement of the deal. Yes, in the end, chances are he will clock on, but for now the dough should be enough to keep the mug sweet.’
Raymond shook his head. He had the same feeling as he’d had the night that Jessica had died. This was a bad idea and he half-wished he’d stuck it out in the jewellery trade and never come back to the family firm. ‘When Jimmy O’Hara finds out you’ve crossed him, he’ll come gunning for you, Ed,’ he warned.
Eddie looked at his watch and stood up. ‘Not if I go gunning for him first, he won’t.’
Gary smashed a fist onto the table. ‘Why are we giving these pikeys the time of day? Why don’t we just get rid of the whole lot of ’em in one fell swoop, Jed included?’
‘Because of them kids. Once Frankie is out, we can do what we want, but if we strike now, not only will the Old Bill know that we’re behind the O’Hara’s disappearance, there’s a good chance Georgie and Harry will be taken into care. The filth have got it in for me big time, they always have had, and more so since Jessica’s death. James Fitzgerald Smythe reckons he can get Frankie off her charge and I believe him,’ Eddie replied.
‘You’re off your head. Frankie admitted to what she’d done and won’t even tell no one what really happened. She’s going down, I know she is,’ Ricky reminded his father.
Eddie