Widows

‘Harry, you bastard!’ she screamed as she hauled herself up and looked down the staircase. ‘You run to her — go on, RUN TO HER! She was the brains behind you all along and you never even knew it!’ Slumping onto the stairs, she wept even harder.

Mrs. Obebega came out of her flat below and looked up. ‘You all right, Mrs. Nunn? Mrs. Nunn, you OK?’ she asked, coming up the stairs toward Trudie.

Below them, they heard wood cracking and splintering as the front door was smashed in against the inside wall, and the sound of heavy boots running up the stairs.

Detective Sergeant Fuller was leading the raid. Jimmy Nunn’s address had been barely legible on the blood-soaked scrap of paper Resnick had given him. Seeing Trudie on the floor, Fuller waved his warrant card at her and then ran past her. ‘Where is he? Tell me right now, where is he?’ Fuller shouted over his shoulder.

‘He’s gone... he’s gone... now GET OUT!’ Trudie screamed over and over again, becoming ever more hysterical.

Tenants were coming out their flats as uniformed police entered and swarmed the building. Back on the top landing, Fuller hauled Trudie up from the floor by her dressing gown as the uniformed officers stomped into the flat. One of them kicked open the bedroom door and woke the baby, who began to howl.

Fuller held Trudie by the arm and pulled her toward her front door. ‘Where’s Jimmy? You’d better tell me where he is, Mrs. Nunn, or I swear I’ll nick you as well.’

Trudie could hear herself laughing, a crazy sound. Like a needle stuck on a record, she just kept repeating: ‘I don’t know anything, I don’t know anything, I don’t know anything.’

Chapter 41

The queues at passport control in Rio airport were long. Dolly and Shirley stood in different lines and at no time so much as glanced at each other. The waiting had made some passengers irritable and tetchy, but when they complained, the Brazilian immigration officers delayed even further.

Dolly and Shirley made their separate ways to luggage collection, where some passengers were already wheeling and heaving their cases toward the customs control. The air conditioning made the vast room cold, the muzak was a repetitive heavy drumbeat Samba and, combined with the excited chatter of Brazilian passengers and a long flight, the whole experience was exhausting.

Shirley could just see Dolly’s blonde head above the group of passengers who pushed and shoved their way toward the luggage carousel. At the only exit was a row of trestle tables with a customs officer standing at either end and a further two officers standing by the exit doors. They were all armed and were watching the passengers like hawks. Shirley could feel the sweat begin to trickle down her forehead as she fought her way toward the carousel.

As she waited for her suitcases, Shirley glanced over to the trestle table, where a line of passengers was waiting to go through. Her heart lurched: every passenger’s case was being searched. Articles of clothing were strewn out across the whole length of the tables as passengers and customs officers argued loudly. Shirley pushed closer to Dolly and eventually squeezed in behind her. She whispered in Dolly’s ear, her voice hardly audible above the din.

‘They’re searching everyone. Don’t do it.’

Dolly didn’t turn round. ‘You know what to do — now get away from me.’

Up came one of their red suitcases, but they couldn’t see if it was the one with the red tag or blue tag. As they watched and waited for the case to get closer a hand came forward and dragged it off the carousel. Dolly was about to have a go, when Shirley kicked her foot.

Charles, rucksack on back, smiled at Shirley. ‘Your case I believe? Do you want me to carry it for you?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got to wait for me other one anyway.’

He pressed closer toward her, his BO smelling much worse after the long flight. ‘I don’t mind waiting with you... I wondered if maybe we could have dinner, do some sightseeing or just stay in together?’

Shirley had to get rid of him. She turned on him and spoke softly but plainly. ‘No way... just piss off!’

Charles wasn’t expecting such a sudden rejection and, taking a step back, trod on a fat woman’s foot. She squealed and pushed him hard; he started to fall backward and as he turned to regain his balance, his rucksack hit another woman, who swore at him in Portuguese. Apologizing to everyone around him, he skulked off with his head held low.

Shirley turned to tell Dolly to leave the case. She wasn’t there, but the case was. Shirley couldn’t bring herself to pick it up; but then she noticed it was the case with the blue tag. While everyone was looking at Charles, Dolly had lifted the other red case off the carousel, swapped it with the money case and casually walked off.