Widows

The man got into a Ford Granada and moved off. Resnick decided to follow and they were soon back in the vicinity of Dolly Rawlins’s house. Resnick pulled up round the corner; he was unsure of his next move until he could place the mystery man. Think, think, think... Resnick closed his eyes and, in his head, he flicked back through all the lags he’d arrested over the years. Occasionally he’d shake his head out of frustration at hitting another dead end. His eyes shot open. ‘Fuck. Grant!’ he breathed. Resnick rubbed his eyes, dragging his hands down his face, distorting his features for a moment as his brain worked overtime trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He needed someone to talk to... he never thought he’d say it, but he wished Fuller was sitting next to him. He was a pious prick, but he was also a decent officer who listened, reluctantly or otherwise, when Resnick spoke. Unlike Andrews who had, in all honesty, peaked at traffic duty. ‘Right,’ Resnick said, as if Fuller was by his side. ‘Bill Grant. Why is he watching the Rawlins house? Why has he got Jimmy Nunn’s car? How does he know Eddie Rawlins? You’re working for someone, Bill Grant... I know you... you get your hands dirty for the highest bidder.’ He wished he could call for backup, wished he could nick Eddie Rawlins and Bill Grant and then search Jimmy Nunn’s flat.

Just then, the Granada came back round the corner. Resnick ducked down and, as the car passed, he sat up just enough to get a glimpse of the driver. It was Eddie Rawlins. So, Bill Grant must now be outside Dolly Rawlins’s house in Jimmy Nunn’s BMW. This was tag-team surveillance: two cars, two foot soldiers obeying orders. But who were they working for? Resnick, of course, in his heart of hearts, knew only too well.

Unable to sleep, Dolly had gone into the spare room where Shirley was sleeping to get a better view of the street. Outside, Eddie was sitting alone in the BMW. She needed to know for definite if he was the man who broke into the house.

Dolly shook Shirley, but she didn’t stir. Dolly pulled the covers off. ‘Come on, Shirley. Wake up,’ Dolly said firmly. Eventually, Shirley’s eyes opened and Dolly helped her to her feet.

Together, they peered out from behind the curtains just as Bill Grant pulled up in a Granada and swapped places with Eddie. Shirley was shaking like a leaf. It was obvious that she was terrified at the sight of Eddie. Dolly put her arm round Shirley’s shoulder.

‘That’s Eddie Rawlins, Harry’s cousin. He’s a coward, Shirley. A runt of a man who slaps women and kills dogs. He’s nothing, you hear me? And he won’t hurt you again. I can promise you that.’

The sincerity in Dolly’s voice made Shirley feel safe — she loved the way Dolly could do that. She wished her mum was as strong.

Shirley didn’t recognize the other man, but Dolly did. He was the man who had come to the door of the lock-up and introduced himself as Bill Grant. Dolly screwed her eyes shut and whispered, ‘Idiot!’ Every move at the lock-up could have been watched by Grant. If he knew everything, right from the very beginning, then no wonder Eddie had been at the house looking for the money...

Dolly needed to think about how they could leave the house with Bill Grant watching, and then lose him if he tailed them. And if Eddie returned, there would be the further complication of two men in separate cars to follow them. Too physically and mentally exhausted to think straight, Dolly felt scared, and this was very new to her. She wished Shirley had got on her flight as arranged: at least if Dolly had a meltdown, she could have had it in private! But Shirley was here and, like a child, needed constant reassurance.

Dolly paced up and down the landing, while Shirley went to make them both something to eat. Dolly didn’t want anything, but she needed to be left alone to think. She looked at her watch. It was nearly 2 a.m. and the flight from Heathrow wasn’t until midday. They didn’t have to be at the airport until 10 a.m. at the latest and the airport was, at best, an hour away. Dolly sighed. Leaving the house in daylight was not a good idea and she knew that the sooner they were out under the cover of darkness, the better chance they had of losing a tail.

After a while, Dolly had an idea. It was only a partial plan and it was a bit outrageous, but what the hell — she had become used to outrageous over the past few months! She headed for the kitchen.

‘I thought I’d make a fry up Dolly, do you want—’

‘We need to leave here between four and 4:30 a.m.,’ Dolly interrupted. ‘Can you trust your mum?’

Shirley turned the gas off on the stove. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Can she drive?’

‘Yes,’ Shirley replied, waiting for Dolly to reveal her plan.

‘And you’ve got a brother, that right?’

‘Greg. He lives with Mum.’