East End Trouble (14 page)

G
ary Carter approached
the warehouse on Blocksy Road nervously. He hadn’t seen his brother since the day of The Three Grapes fiasco, and he wasn’t sure what kind of reception he would get. He’d heard that Dave was still furious, so he’d decided to give him some time to cool off. He’d gone and stayed with a mate out in Essex, waiting for the heat to die down. But now Gary’s money had run out, so he needed to talk to Dave and clear the air.

Gary licked his lips as he approached the big, metal, rolling door. He tried to force himself to relax. He’d screwed up plenty of times in the past, and Dave always forgave him in the end. Family was important to him, and Gary was his brother after all.

For a second or two, Gary looked about in confusion, expecting Charlie Williams to be in his normal spot, guarding the door, but there was no sign of him. Gary grimaced when he remembered that Charlie was still inside. Dave had a lot of influence with the police, and he paid a couple of inspectors to smooth his business dealings, so Gary was surprised that Charlie hadn’t yet managed to get out.

“Oh, it’s you,” A voice said behind Gary, deep, gruff and scornful.

Gary turned and saw the squat, broad figure of Brian Moore.

Brian was giving him a look that Gary found disagreeable.

“You finally decided to show your face around here then, have you?” Brian asked with a smirk.

The cheeky little bastard. Gary glared at the short man. He was a fine one to talk. Gary had heard all the gossip afterwards, and he knew for a fact that Brian had been hot on Gary’s heels and ran away leaving Charlie behind. So he was just as much at fault as Gary was.

Gary shot a look down at Brian’s crotch. “I hope you’ve got some new trousers on, Brian. I heard you pissed yourself when you saw Red-haired Freddie.”

“You what?” Brian said, his big, chubby face turning bright red.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, Brian. We can’t all be brave in the heat of the moment now, can we?”

“It was you that shot the bloody lights out!” Brian growled. “If you hadn’t done that none of this would have happened.”

Gary narrowed his eyes and took a menacing step towards Brian. Dave had plenty of men working for him, but over the last few years, there were only three he’d let close to him: Gary, Charlie Williams and Brian Moore. What Brian had failed to remember was that out of the three of them only Gary was family, and, therefore, would not suffer this kind of lack of respect.

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Brian,” Gary said coldly.

Brian opened his mouth to respond but then thought better of it.

Gary smiled. “That’s more like it. Now, is my brother around?”

Brian nodded. “Inside.”

Gary followed Brian inside, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous warehouse. He headed over to the small office on the right-hand side, where Dave conducted most of his business. The blinds were only half lowered, and the door was open, so Gary strolled right in.

Dave was alone in the office, sitting behind the desk making some notes. He looked up as his brother entered.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Gary heard Brian chuckle behind him and turned, angrily slamming the door shut in Brian’s face. He might have to suffer his brother’s taunts, but he didn’t have to allow Brian the pleasure of listening to it.

Gary turned back around and then sat down in the seat in front of Dave’s desk without waiting for an invitation.

Dave put down his pen and leaned back in the seat, interlinking his fingers and resting them on the desk.

“So what’s your excuse this time?”

Gary scowled. He hated Dave lording it over him. It wasn’t Gary’s fault that Dave had all the opportunities. If he’d had half the luck Dave had had, their situations would be reversed, and he would never talk to Dave in such a fashion.

“I went out to Essex for a while until things cooled down a bit.”

Dave sighed. “I mean what was your excuse for the absolute mayhem at The Three Grapes. What the hell happened, Gary? There were three of you and only two of them. How did they manage to get the better of you, eh?”

Gary shrugged and stared moodily at the floor. Dave was clearly putting the blame squarely at his door, but in Gary’s opinion, he hadn’t really done anything wrong.

When had Dave last put himself at risk by going out on a job? It had been years since he’d done anything like that. He stayed safely holed-up at home, or here in his little office, counting his money. It was old-silly-bollocks, Gary, who did all the grunt work and never got any thanks for it.

“Just for once, Dave, I’d like a little bit of appreciation. Does it really make you feel that good to put me down all the time?”

Dave shook his head in disbelief. “What are you going on about? I pay you handsomely for what you do. Nobody else would put up with all your rubbish. You let me down that night, Gary. And worse than that, you left a man lying on the floor, bleeding. One of our own.”

“See! This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re blaming me again. I didn’t bleeding well know he got shot, did I? I couldn’t see anything. It was a nightmare, absolute chaos. The coppers were going to arrive at any second, so I did the only sensible thing I could. I left.”

“Funny,” Dave said, narrowing his eyes, “Charlie told me he called out to you. He told you he’d been shot, and you looked at him and then ran away.”

Gary sprung to his feet. “He’s lying!”

Dave said nothing but raised one eyebrow as he stared at Gary.

Gary slammed his hand on the desk. “Don’t tell me you believe that little bastard over your own brother?”

Still Dave didn’t say anything, and now Gary was getting really wound up.

He did see Charlie on the floor, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Besides, it wasn’t his fault the stupid bastard went and got himself shot. But that wasn’t the important thing here. The outrageous thing was the fact that Dave believed Charlie’s word over his. He trusted someone else over his own brother.

“Dad would be turning in his grave if he could see you treating me this way,” Gary said spitefully.

Dave shook his head. “These screwups of yours keep happening, Gary. I want to trust you. I’d love to have a brother to share all this with, but when you keep going off the deep end, I can’t rely on you. When you look me straight in the eye and lie to me, how am I supposed to trust you?”

Gary slumped back down in his chair. This was going far worse than he’d expected. He’d love to slam his fist into his brother’s face and run out of there, but he couldn’t. Dave controlled the purse strings, and he was bloody tight with his money. Gary needed cash, so he was going to have to listen to this little lecture yet again.

Dave leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “Tell me the truth, Gary. Are you using? Did you take something that night?”

Gary licked his lips, trying to work out whether or not he should tell Dave the truth. He had had a touch of cocaine that night just to see him through. He’d had a long session the night before, and he was tired and hungover. He’d just needed a little bit of coke to perk himself up. It wasn’t as if it was dangerous.

“I just had a little sniff. It was nothing. It keeps me alert.”

Dave shook his head in disgust. “When are you going to learn that stuff makes you paranoid? You can’t operate properly when you’re on it. And if you’ve come back here thinking I’m going to give you money just so you can snort it up your nostrils, you’ve got another think coming, son.”

Gary felt a cold rush of panic flood over him. No. Dave couldn’t cut him off. He wouldn’t. How the hell did Dave expect him to survive?

“You are joking aren’t you?”

Dave shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gary, but this is the last straw. There is no place for cowards here.”

Gary got to his feet, placed his hands on the desk and pushed his face into Dave’s. “You’re going to regret this!” he spat.

With a snarl of frustration, Gary stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him so hard the windows rattled.

A
fter his brother had left
, Dave leaned back in his chair and sighed. Gary would never know how much it hurt Dave to cut him off, but it had been brewing for years. No matter how much Dave encouraged him to take the business seriously, Gary just wanted to spend money on booze, girls and drugs. He didn’t want to make anything of his life.

He seemed to be missing the drive and motivation to want to be someone in the East End. He liked the respect that came with being Dave Carter’s brother, of course, but he didn’t want to put in the work to become a man of influence in his own right.

Dave wondered if it was his fault. As the elder brother, he’d always looked out for Gary, making sure he wasn’t bullied and even doling out his pocket money.

Gary had been much younger when their father had died, so Dave had taken on the paternal role, trying to guide Gary as he grew up. He’d obviously made a monumental mistake somewhere along the way because Gary had turned into a nasty, selfish piece of work who Dave was ashamed to call his brother.

Dave ran a weary hand over his face. Hopefully, this shock to the system would be just what Gary needed to get his life back on track. Dave had been telling the truth when he told Gary he wanted nothing more than a brother he could share this with. He would have loved to have had a brotherly relationship like the Krays, to have someone there he could rely on, no matter what. It must be a comforting thought to know there was someone who always had your back, Dave thought. But he would never trust Gary enough for that. He trusted Charlie Williams far more than he’d ever trusted Gary.

Dave leaned forward and tried to concentrate on the notes he’d been making. He needed to push Gary out of his mind and focus as he had a very important decision to make. Martin Morton was getting far too big for his boots.

Two big gangs trying to operate in overlapping areas in the East End was a recipe for disaster.

And Dave was determined to emerge the winner in this particular fight. He knew he needed to hit Martin Morton where it hurt. The key to that was money. He needed to target his suppliers.

Dave looked down at his notes. He’d written down everything he knew about Morton’s suppliers. He intended to target them one by one, so slowly that Morton wouldn’t even realise what was happening until it was too late.

Dave nodded and looked down at the list again. It felt good to work like this. With a clear head and a definite plan. It had never failed him in the past, and he was sure he would be successful this time, too.

He’d seen off many wannabe gangsters over the last few years. He had to give Martin Morton credit; he was the most serious threat he’d come across so far, but Dave would still win out. He always did.

He called Brian into the office along with a couple of younger men he’d decided to promote. With Gary out of the picture and Charlie inside, he needed to let a couple more men into the inner circle.

The two new boys entered the room looking extremely nervous.

Brian followed them in, his bulk and broad shoulders forcing him to turn sideways to pass through the doorway.

“There’s no need to look worried, boys.” Dave began addressing the two new recruits. “I’ve been pleased with your work, and I’ve decided you’ve earned the chance to prove yourselves.”

The two new boys exchanged excited glances, and Dave hoped he was right in trusting them. It was a risk, but all business involved calculated risks.

Not for the first time, he regretted how things had turned out with Frank the Face. He hadn’t found out the whole story yet, but it was looking more and more likely that Frank was dead.

“I’ve got some news,” Dave said. “It isn’t public knowledge yet, so I’m going to need you to keep this under your hats, but you will have probably noticed that Frank’s been missing for the past couple of days.”

Everyone in the room stared at Dave.

He thought they probably realised what was coming next. He hated to be the one to break the news. Frank had been a very good worker, and he’d worked for Dave for a number of years.

“Martin Morton killed Frank.”

The two new boys were so shocked they couldn’t say anything. They just stood there with their mouths open, but Brian took a step forward shaking his head. “How do you know? Are you sure?”

Dave nodded. “I got the news from one of the inspectors on our payroll. And let’s just say I have another informant, someone very close to Martin Morton.” Dave allowed himself a little smile.

Brian was quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling and Dave could almost hear the cogs turning in the man’s brain as he tried to work out who Dave’s informant was.

“Have you turned someone in Morton’s gang?” Brian finally asked.

Dave kept his face blank. He kept the identity of his informants on a need-to-know basis, and Brian and the other lads definitely did not need to know the identity of this particular informant.

“That’s not important,” Dave said impatiently. “What is important is that we are going to hit Martin where it hurts.”

“We should bloody kill him,” Brian said passionately. He’d liked Frank, and the two men had been close.

Dave stood up from behind his desk and walked around it before placing a hand on the squat man’s shoulder. “I know how you’re feeling, Brian. And I promise you we will get Martin Morton for this. He won’t get away with it.”

K
athleen hadn’t seen
her friend Linda for months. Now that she no longer worked at Bevels, Kathleen spent her days looking in the shops up the West End and stopping in fancy places for lunch. A week ago, she’d taken tea in Selfridges. She decided she needed a treat and ordered tea and a scone. But sitting there in the cafe, she felt strangely out of place, which wasn’t helped by the snooty waitress.

Kathleen had left her half-eaten scone on her plate, and on the way home, she had popped to Maureen’s for pie and mash.

She felt much more comfortable in the little cafe, but she wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone. Kathleen knew it would take a little bit of adjustment, but soon her life would change for good. She couldn’t wait to get rid of the grunge of the East End, but at the moment, she didn’t quite fit in up West End either. Not yet anyway.

Martin had been bunging her a few quid each week, and it was lovely not to have to worry about money. However, without having to turn up to work every day, she felt a bit at a loss for things to do. Especially as she wasn’t friends with Linda anymore.

The novelty of being a kept woman was wearing thin. There was no one to share it with. She remembered the last time she’d gone up the West End with Linda. They’d had a right laugh, making fun of the snobby sales assistants in the shops. With Linda, she hadn’t given a rat’s arse whether some silly old sales assistant was looking down her nose at them. It didn’t seem to matter when she had Linda.

She missed Linda more than she’d ever imagined. She missed the kind, faithful, loyalty Linda’s friendship had provided. And she was very surprised that Linda had kept her distance for so long. After that thing with Donavan, Kathleen was convinced it would all blow over in a few weeks, and Linda would be round apologising for overreacting.

Kathleen tightened her coat around her as she walked up the road.

She walked up the path towards the house and let herself in. The door was on the latch as it always was. Mary Diamond never locked the door during the day.

“It’s only me, Mum,” Kathleen called out.

Kathleen put the bag full of clothes she’d bought on the floor and started to take off her coat. Mary appeared in the doorway. Strands of her greying hair had escaped her bun. She wore an apron and held a large ladle in her hand.

Mary glanced disapprovingly at the carrier bag on the floor. “I don’t suppose you got anything for the baby, did you?”

Kathleen sighed. Not this again. “There’s plenty of time for all that,” she said dismissively.

Kathleen really didn’t see the point in buying all sorts of fancy clothes for the baby. It would grow out of anything she bought within a couple of weeks anyway. She didn’t see the irony in buying dresses that didn’t even fit her at the moment. She was confident she would regain her figure as soon as the baby was born.

“I’ve made shepherd’s pie,” Mary said. “Why don’t we sit in the kitchen and I’ll serve up?”

Kathleen left the bag where it was, hung her coat on the peg and followed Mary into the kitchen.

She sat down at the table as her mother waited on her, dishing up a large portion of shepherd’s pie along with some boiled carrots.

“I thought we should sort out a few things in preparation,” Mary said after Kathleen had taken her first bite of the shepherds’ pie. “It won’t be long now, and we’ll have to think about what we’re going to do when you go back to work.”

Kathleen’s fork clattered against her plate. “What do you mean?” she demanded.

“Well, you can hardly take the baby with you when you go out to work, can you? So that means I’ll have to stay home and look after it. That’s going to take a bit of rearranging because you know I cover the stall for Theresa two days a week. I suppose I can take the baby with me eventually, but not when it’s very young.”

Kathleen pushed her plate away. She couldn’t believe her mother had the gall to try and run her life for her. Kathleen had absolutely no intention of going back to work. She had planned for Martin to provide for her and the baby.

“You’ve got it wrong, Mum. I’m not going back to work. I’m looking after the baby after it’s born.”

“And just how are we supposed to get by with no money?” Mary asked cuttingly.

“Martin will pay. It’s his kid, and he’ll provide for it.”

Mary huffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it. I know his type. He’s paying you a bit of money now to keep it quiet, but he will soon get bored of that and then where will we be?”

Her mother could be so spiteful. Kathleen shoved the chair back from the table, scraping it along the floor and stood up. “I’m going out.”

“Where on earth are you going at this time? And you haven’t even finished dinner.”

“I need a bit of peace and quiet,” Kathleen said and stormed out of the kitchen.

She’d only taken a couple of steps along the road when she ran straight into Linda.

Kathleen blinked rapidly, hoping Linda wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

For a moment, she thought that Linda might cross the road and deliberately ignore her, but she didn’t.

Her hair was gleaming, and she wore a smart dark brown coat that suited her creamy complexion and matched her dark brown shiny hair.

“You look nice, Linda. Are you off out?” Kathleen asked hoping that Linda would stop and chat for a while.

Linda looked tense. “Yes,” she said shortly, obviously not wanting to get into a long conversation with Kathleen.

“With Donovan?”

Linda gave her a scathing look. “No!”

She glared angrily at Kathleen for a moment before she continued, “I’m going to the pictures with some girls from work.”

Kathleen nodded sadly. It seemed Linda was finding it far easier to make friends without Kathleen around. Kathleen had always found it hard to make friends. Linda was really the only friend she’d had since she’d been at school.

Linda’s expression softened. “Are you feeling okay?” She looked down at Kathleen’s bump beneath her coat.

Kathleen smiled. “Not too bad, although I’m fed up with being the size of a house.” Kathleen’s voice took on a dreamy tone as she continued, “Martin can’t wait until I get my figure back of course.”

Linda’s mouth set in a firm line as she stared at her friend and then she said, “Martin? He’s still on the scene then?”

Kathleen bristled. “Of course, he is. He is the baby’s father, isn’t he?”

Kathleen tried to relax a little. Linda did still care about her. Maybe she was ready to put everything behind them, and they could be friends again just like before. “He’s ever so good, Linda. He gives me money each week, and it’s only a matter of time, of course, before he leaves Babs.”

Linda’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “You’re delusional. He’s not going to leave his wife. You can’t really believe that.”

“What would you know?” Kathleen asked. “For your information, he’s trying to get us a place. Obviously, we can’t live over the club with the baby. That’s entirely unsuitable, but as soon as he finds a place, we’ll be moving in together,” Kathleen insisted, although Martin had said nothing of the sort.

Kathleen wasn’t sure why she was lying. She just couldn’t stand Linda feeling sorry for her.

“So you’re still living at your mum’s now then?” Linda asked.

“Not for long,” Kathleen said crisply. “And a good thing, too. She’s driving me round the bend at the moment.”

Linda sighed. “She cares about you, Kath. More than Martin ever will. You’re lucky to have her.”

Kathleen didn’t appreciate being told she should appreciate her mother more. “What’s come over you? Why are you suddenly my mother’s appreciation society?”

Linda looked at her sadly. “I just think you should live in the real world. It’s not so bad. You’ve got people who care about you.” Linda reached out and put her hand on Kathleen’s arm. “I worry about you, Kath.”

Kathleen narrowed her eyes. Linda worried about her? The very idea was ridiculous. She must be jealous. That was the only explanation. Linda was jealous that Kathleen was making a life for herself.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you, Linda. And I certainly don’t need you to worry about me.”

“Fine. Goodbye then.” Linda squared her shoulders and walked off.

Kathleen turned around and watched her friend walk away. She had so much to look forward to now with the baby and Martin, so she really couldn’t understand why she felt a sharp pang of regret as Linda walked away.