Maura's Game Page 14

  ‘At least some good has come from all that hag then!’

  Her quip made him laugh again.

  ‘You women, always chasing after youth.’

  ‘From what I’ve heard about Camilla you ain’t doing too badly in that direction yourself!’

  They laughed together again like old friends before he looked at her and said honestly, ‘I would need Arnold Schwarzenegger himself to lift it these days, Maura, to be truthful, but I like everyone thinking I’m still at it. Men are envious of me, women laugh at me. But I’m old and it’s the pleasure on other people’s faces that I live for now.’

  Maura understood what he meant. He was at an age where all he had left was the respect of other people. How he was perceived was important to him and always had been.

  ‘What can I do for you? Trouble again?’

  She nodded, the smile gone from her voice now and from her eyes. Joe the Jew had always thought Maura had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen on a woman. Deep-set and a glorious blue, they were eyes any woman would crave. Now they were a steely shade, a deep sadness reflected in them. That sadness had been there for years. He wondered if she realised that when she looked at herself?

  ‘Trouble with a capital T, Joe. Vic Joliff is walking around and threatening me.’

  Joe the Jew sighed.

  ‘Vic is heavy duty, Maura. But he’s old news, surely?’

  ‘He still thinks I know who killed his wife.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  Those simple words told Maura all she needed to know. Despite all her family’s efforts to broadcast word of Tommy B’s murderous spree, the old adage ‘no smoke without fire’ was clearly still alive and kicking in the criminal underworld.

  ‘Do you really think I would have anything to do with the killing of a fucking civilian, Joe? Give me some credit after all the years we’ve been friends.’

  He said delicately, ‘Maybe not you personally but someone close to you, Maura?’

  She frowned.

  ‘Such as?’

  The hard edge to her voice reminded him exactly who he was dealing with here and he forced an uneasy smile. He had always thought it a shame the way she had hardened at such an early age. He remembered when her brother Michael would take her round collecting rents, such a beautiful, gentle child. Now she was a villain through and through.

  He shrugged.

  ‘How would I know? It was just a rhetorical question.’

  ‘And my brother Garry would give you a rhetorical clump round the earhole if he heard you, wouldn’t he?’

  He took the threat gratefully. There was nothing else for it. He looked saddened though that he and Maura could be talking like this after all the years they’d known each other.

  She smiled coldly.

  ‘What about Rebekka Kowolski? Remember her, Joe? She really gave someone the hump, didn’t she?’

  He threw up his hands.

  ‘Rebekka, Rebekka . . . always you are asking me about her. I told you before, she was just a greedy woman – wanted to live like a princess when her husband was earning bubches. Got in too deep with Russian loan sharks. It was a terrible tragedy. What more can I say? She had nothing to do with that trouble of yours. On my life, I swear it.’

  She looked into his eyes and said the words she knew would destroy their friendship forever. Whether he was lying or not, it had to be done. She daren’t risk looking like an easy touch or they’d all be finished.

  ‘If I ever find out different I’ll come for you, Joe.’

  His old face sagged and he had difficulty meeting her eyes.

  ‘That it should come to this . . . I’ll bear it in mind, believe me. And Maura . . . watch your back, won’t you, my dear?’

  Vic Joliff walked into Le Marais with his new best friend and ally Jamie Hicks. There was a furore when people realised who he was, some of them being quicker on the uptake than others since they were in the same line of business. This docklands restaurant was where the City boys met the criminal underworld of Essex and London. Chandlery Wharf was a favoured meeting place for many an armed robber or drugs supplier who did their deals in much the same way as the money brokers and accountants did theirs: over a nice meal and a good bottle of wine. It was a different world these days and life for the ready-cash merchants was sweet. Most would get a lump and a half if caught in the course of their nefarious activities, so they made the proverbial hay while the sun shone.

  Vic knew it was the criminal equivalent of being on the Nine O’clock News and savoured the covert looks and ensuing gossip. The Ryans would know within seconds that he was here, but after one drink and a cigarette he and Jamie were gone.

  Garry got there twenty minutes after Vic had left. The fact Garry Ryan had come in personally told everyone who was anyone what they needed to know. Vic was playing games, and with him and the Ryans involved it could lead to a very dangerous scenario indeed. Two books were set up that afternoon alone. In both, the Ryans came out ahead. But only just. Vic Joliff was a force to be reckoned with and everyone who knew him kept that in mind.

  Jamie was just along for the ride was the general consensus, snatched from the Ryans to get up their noses, though some of the shrewder clientele privately thought he was to be the fall guy. Vic would need one, any fool could see that much.

  ‘Jamie Hicks? Are you sure?’

  Maura was astounded at what she was hearing.

  Garry was incensed.

  ‘Of course I am fucking sure! The slimy little cunt! All I done for him when he was banged up an’ all! I made sure he had a few quid, a cell of his own and a drink regular as clockwork. I weighed out a small fortune getting him an easy sleep – and that ponce has the fucking nerve to be seen with Vic Joliff. Well, Maura, this is it. We have tried the softly-softly approach. Now it’s all guns fucking blazing and serious aggravation for anyone who might even know their dates of bastard birth!’

  Maura, normally the voice of reason, nodded in acquiescence. For once Garry was right. Vic was out in the open now and they had to make a stand, a public stand. It occurred to her that she was getting too old for all this, and the knowledge depressed her slightly. All she wanted to do was go home and get laid, but the way Tommy was acting she had a feeling that was the last thing on his agenda today. He was miffed and she couldn’t blame him.

  But what could she do really? Once more she had to watch out for her brothers. They were all too lairy to be left to their own devices.

  Garry was shrewd enough, but too short-tempered ever to be the real boss. He didn’t have a cool enough head to think things through properly. Benny, well, he was Benny, enough said. Lee, God love him, didn’t have the brain capacity of a retarded gnat, Roy was on more pills than a Welsh crack dealer, and the workforce was just that, a workforce. No budding Machiavellis among that lot. So as usual it was all left to her, and it was getting a bit wearing to say the least.

  Times like today she wondered why she bothered with any of it.

  Carla and Joey were walking down the Portobello Road. It had changed so much since she was young but unlike Maura she liked the changes. Carla liked star fucking and being in the company of famous people. As they walked she drew more than a few admiring glances herself. She ignored them. There was only one man on her mind and even though she knew it was wrong, that it could only lead to trouble, Tommy Rifkind had filled her thoughts now for months. He was Maura’s and she knew it. All was fair in love and war, though, surely? But the thought failed to cheer her. Maura would not take kindly to Carla’s making a play for her man. It would be war all right.

  Maura came across all sweetness and light but inside she was a hard fucker and Carla had always known that. But just to look at Tommy set her pulses racing, and knowing Maura like she did, Carla believed her rival was past all that. Had been since she was seventeen years old. How many times had she heard the story of Maura’s abortion and subsequent joining of the family firm? Her granny had regaled her with the story so many times i
t was practically engraved on Carla’s heart.

  Maura herself never discussed it. They had talked about everything else over the years, and she acknowledged that Maura had been good to her ever since she had been a baby and Maura and her grandmother had taken her from Janine after a serious beating. Carla knew she should be grateful. But how long could gratitude be expected to last, for fuck’s sake? She was a grown woman now with a son of her own and she was not getting any younger. She knew Tommy watched her. The sensible part of her told her that any man would watch her, the way she carried on around him, but still she was sure he felt a connection as well.

  But even if he did, what could become of it?

  She was playing with fire and she knew it, but it was years since a man had affected her like this and she was determined to make the most of it.

  Joey, seeing a beautiful white dress in a shop window, drew her attention to it.

  ‘Oh, Mum, look. That is so you!’

  She looked. It was indeed a beautiful dress and might have been made for her.

  ‘That would knock Tommy’s eyes out!’

  Her son’s voice was effeminate and high-pitched. For once it didn’t annoy her. She hugged him.

  ‘Naughty, naughty.’

  Joey grinned.

  ‘You, Mother, are the naughty one – and good luck to you, I say. But watch yourself. Marvellous Maura won’t like you going after what she sees as hers, you know.’

  Carla laughed nervously.

  ‘Shall I try it on?’

  ‘Be a crime not to, woman.’

  She followed him into the shop like a schoolgirl. They were giggling and laughing together as she tried on the dress. He was more like a daughter than a son and Carla found herself enjoying the fact.

  The dress was perfect for her and she bought it there and then.

  Inside, that small warning voice nagged away but she shut it out. Surely she was as entitled to a bit of happiness as Maura was? And, she told herself, it was only a little bit of flirting, nothing more.

  She pushed down the voice that screamed against her disloyalty and walked out into the street with her son, the carrier bag clutched safely in her hot little hand. It didn’t occur to her that she had paid for the dress with money that Maura had provided. She never thought of her allowance as money given to her. To Carla it was money that was hers by right. She was a Ryan as well, after all. She deserved a slice of the family fortune. And if it was up to her she would be getting a much bigger piece of the pie. She felt that what Maura gave her wasn’t half enough money to keep up her expensive new lifestyle.

  Such were the thoughts of Carla Ryan as she walked to her brand-new Mercedes SLK and made the journey home.

  Chapter Nine

  Maura drove into the council estate in Essex where she knew Jamie Hicks’s wife lived. It was the first time she had been to the house for months. When Jamie had got a seven for possession of firearms he had been working for the Ryans at the time and she had obviously made sure that Danielle was taken care of. Garry himself had looked after Jamie.

  Maura had always got on well with Danielle, and liked her. Married far too young she had shunted out kids at an alarming rate. The once pretty girl with the natural blonde hair and smiling carefree manner had soon been replaced by a screaming harridan who was not only overweight but overworked as well. Consequently Jamie had been on the scene less and less.

  It amazed Maura that more of these women didn’t realise that children drove a wedge between couples – at least, lots of children did. Most men were still children themselves at heart and wanted to be taken care of. A woman with six kids had no time for herself, let alone her old man. She sighed as she thought of the number of times Danny had been on the receiving end of Jamie’s latest affair. Even banged up he was still running women. Once Danielle had turned up for a remand visit at the same time as another of his birds. This one was heavily pregnant and very vocal about the love of her life. Danielle had chinned her as she had chinned countless other girls during her married life. Even Jamie was wary of her when she lost her temper and it was surely a sight to behold. Danielle was a laugh, she was kind and she was funny. But woe betide anyone who upset her. Then she was a force to be reckoned with, a tiny, fat fighting machine who made even Garry quip that she could join the family firm if she liked as he could do with a decent minder – this after she had been up before the beak for ABH on a social worker.

  But basically, as Maura knew, Danielle was what Jamie had made her. Every day of her life was a struggle, a fight for existence. Jamie was not free with his money, not to his wife anyway. She still had to get her Social Security because he was off the scene so much. Jamie would travel miles for a good shag, as he often declared when drunk, and then his family would be forgotten about. Until eventually, penniless and disgruntled, he would roll home and Danielle would take him back.

  Maura walked into the maisonette – the door was rarely locked – and called out in a friendly manner: ‘All right, Danny. It’s me, Maura.’

  Danielle came rushing down the stairs. She was out of breath as usual and, Maura was sorry to see, heavily pregnant. Also as usual.

  ‘Hello, mate. I was just thinking about you! Come and have a cuppa.’

  Maura followed her into the tiny kitchen and sat herself at the small breakfast bar that was more a serving hatch into the lounge. From there she observed the usual clutter of kids’ junk. The furniture was old and scruffy, and knowing the hefty wedge that Jamie had made over the years it annoyed her. Instead of this place they should have been in a nicely decorated semi somewhere. God knows he could have bought one five times over for cash, the money he had earned from the Ryans over the years. He was a ponce and when she located him she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of him.

  Placing a chipped mug full of strong tea down on the counter, Danny said gaily, ‘Where is the bastard then? Sent you round to see how the land lies, has he?’

  The pleasure in her voice made Maura feel terrible inside. Danny wanted that piece of shit, as she thought of Jamie, so badly and yet he had brought her this low, had brought her to this place and then abandoned her here without a second’s thought for her or for his children.

  Maura sipped the scalding liquid before replying.

  ‘I was hoping you could tell me where he is?’

  Danny looked troubled.

  ‘Don’t Garry know then? He always knows where that tosspot is.’

  Danny was smiling; Maura knew she was hoping to hear exactly what she wanted to hear. She could feel panic rising in the smiling girl opposite her and felt so sorry for her she could have cried herself.

  Maura shook her head.

  ‘It seems he’s batting for the other side these days, Danny.’

  Danny’s bloated face was all worry and fear now. She was intelligent enough to know that if Maura was looking for Jamie herself then he was in deep shit.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said fearfully.

  Maura shrugged.

  ‘What I say. He’s in with Vic Joliff. They were seen together at Le Marais yesterday. Seems we ain’t good enough for him these days. Garry and me want a word with him as well – need to clarify a few things.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as what the fuck Vic wants from him.’

  Danielle felt her heart sink at the thought of what Jamie had dragged her into this time. He had brought trouble to her door many times: other birds – some with babies, debt collectors, Old Bill. But never had she felt in actual danger until now. Until Maura Ryan, with whom she had always got on, was sitting in her kitchen and asking where the bastard was. She was also telling Danielle in her own subtle way that the few quid that came in regularly each week was on the out now because Jamie had taken up with another firm. Danielle would launch that ponce into outer space when she got her hands on him. She instinctively put her hands to her swollen belly.

  ‘I ain’t seen him, Maura. I thought you was here to tell me he was on his
way home.’

  She started to cry, a silent tearless crying that was all the more powerful because it was so deathly quiet.

  Maura lit her a cigarette. She knew that Danny had smoked Silk Cuts throughout all her pregnancies. The girl took it gratefully. She had almost finished it before she spoke again.

  ‘The cunt. I hate him sometimes, do you know that? He walks in and out of here like it’s a hotel. Uses me and the kids, then ups and fucks off again without a thought as to how I’m coping. Now on top of all this I’ve lost the few quid Garry bungs me every week, and I depend on that money, Maura, fucking depend on it. I’m paying off so much, loans he took out for Christmas, and I had Trevor Tanks round here last night looking for him for gambling debts. Threatened me and all. Said he’d use a blade if I didn’t tell him where Jamie was. As luck would have it, me little boy Richie came in then and I think he felt bad for letting a kid see that. Trevor ain’t a bad bloke, he just wants his dough. Now you tell me that I ain’t even got the protection of you lot any more thanks to fucking Jamie, the slimy two-faced shitbag that he is!’

  Maura let her talk it out of her system. She knew the girl needed to let off some steam.

  ‘I had the social worker round again last week. My eldest, Petey, crunched another fucking boy at school and broke his pelvis, nicked a motor and slagged off the filth. I have to go to court with him in two weeks’ time and this one is fucking due on the same day! I told him: ‘‘Petey,’’ I said, ‘‘with the name Hicks you will be a natural target for the filth.’’ But he thinks that fucking Jamie is the dog’s bollocks. Well, boys do, don’t they?’

  She was really crying now, heaving with sobs, and Maura put one arm gently around her.

  ‘The money won’t stop, I promise you, OK? But you have to promise me one thing in return. If Jamie shows up you must let me know. It’s better he talks to me than to Garry or Benny. They’ve got the right arse with him. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? Don’t tell him you’re going to call me, sweetie, you just tip me the nod on the quiet like.’