Widows

Shirley bent down by the driver’s seat and reached underneath to find the keys. Dolly impatiently tapped the roof of the car with her hand.

‘Come on, darlin’,’ Dolly said. ‘Your mum’ll probably have crashed by now and Eddie will have figured out that she ain’t me.’

‘I can’t find—’ Shirley froze. ‘What would he do to her?’

Dolly realized her joke was a mistake. ‘Nothing, Shirl, I promise. He’s a coward.’

‘That’s not what you called him earlier,’ Shirley replied, still searching for the keys. ‘You said he was a runt who slaps women and kills dogs. Well, she’s a woman, Dolly, and if he lays one finger on her...’ Shirley stood up with the car keys in her hand.

Dolly took the keys and spoke gently. ‘I know love... you’ll kill him.’

Shirley stared at Dolly. Strong and fixed. ‘No, Dolly,’ she said. ‘Not him.’

Shirley walked round to the passenger door, leaving Dolly staring into space. She’d probably lost Shirley completely now. Dolly had used Audrey and Greg to get what she wanted. What she needed. Greg could have ended up in prison and Audrey could still end up dead. Shirley, the girl who had once looked at her like a mother, hated her.

But Dolly would make it right. Once they were safe, she would make it right.

Chapter 37

Alice knew she could get into trouble if she got caught, possibly even lose her job, but she was doing it because George Resnick had asked her to.

She’d been in the office since 6 a.m.; no other admin staff were about this early to see what she was up to. Picking up the files and the neatly typed notes from her desk, she put them all into a plastic bag, hurried off down the corridor and out of the station. None of the night shift officers gave her a second look as she passed them.

As arranged, Resnick was waiting for Alice in the greasy spoon round the corner. He was slurping on a coffee and eating a sausage and egg sandwich covered in HP sauce when she arrived. He waved to the waitress as Alice sat down. ‘Nice to see you, girl.’ He smiled, showing little bits of sausage skin between his teeth.

‘And you, sir,’ Alice replied, eyeing the brown sauce dribbling down Resnick’s fingers. If he got any of that on the files, everyone would know exactly who’d been handling them. Resnick was forever spilling things on important paperwork and all his files had been decorated with coffee rings from his dirty mug.

The waitress brought a pot of tea to Alice and Resnick beamed. Alice hated tea, but she accepted it with thanks: it was rare that Resnick bought anyone anything. She got up and collected a pile of napkins from the counter and handed them to Resnick, waiting until he’d obediently wiped his mucky hands before handing him the first file. Then she gave him a summary of the most important bits of information.

‘You won’t find much there about Jimmy Nunn. He’s got no criminal record so I got everything from the Social. He’d had high hopes of being a racing driver, and he’s got two traffic convictions for reckless driving and speeding. Married to Trudie, one child aged six months. Receiving Child Benefit, non-taxpayer, unemployed for two years and, according to the dole office, he hasn’t claimed for the past two months.’

‘Why hasn’t he claimed, Alice?’ Resnick asked. ‘Prison? No. Traveling? Probably not if he’s got a six-month-old kid. Employed? Doubtful, after two years of skiving. Dead?’ He glanced up at Alice and she could almost hear the cogs turning.

Alice passed Resnick the second, larger file. ‘William Grant was released from Brixton prison nine months ago,’ she said. ‘Grievous bodily harm, robbery, arson.’

‘Murder?’ Resnick asked.

Alice poured herself a cup of tea. ‘No murder convictions. But you’ll see that his crimes are — what’s the word?’

‘Random?’ Resnick suggested.

‘Yes. Often no connection to the victim, nothing stolen... it’s as though he was acting on behalf of someone else and getting his money that way.’

Resnick smiled again. He loved the way Alice’s brain sometimes worked like his. She had superb gut instinct. ‘You’re right, Alice. He’s a hired thug. The last time I put him inside, he was “no comment” from the get-go.’ Resnick looked at the photo. It was definitely the same man he had seen leaving Jimmy Nunn’s house.

‘And now...’ Alice passed Resnick the third file — the file on the latest security wagon raid.

Resnick read fast. It was page after page of textbook Harry Rawlins MO. He knew it was Harry bloody Rawlins. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. ‘I’ve got him, Alice. We’ve only bloody well got the bastard!’

Alice checked her watch. Any moment now the day shift could come in for their morning fry-up. ‘Sir — you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?’ she asked.