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Authors: Martina Cole

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense

Maura's Game (8 page)

BOOK: Maura's Game
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Maura glanced at him and said casually, “You were coming anyway, Kenny, but thanks for the offer. Until we’re sure you have told us the truth we’ll stick to you like shit to a blanket.”

It was no more than he’d expected.

Chapter Four

Roy watched as his mother was bandaged up. She had a black eye and a sprained wrist. To see her sitting on a hospital bed in that state made him feel as if he was about to explode with rage. When she looked vulnerable, as she did now, he remembered all sorts of things from his childhood. How she’d fed them and clothed them with hardly any help from their father, a man who’d wanted his drink and his gamble far more than he’d wanted his family. When Benjamin Ryan Senior finally departed this life on the floor of a bookie’s in Kilburn five years back, Roy and his brothers had made no secret of their relief. Only Maura seemed to miss the old sod and their mum, of course. He wanted to put his arm about her shoulders and comfort her now as she had comforted him while he was growing up.

She looked so small, until she started one of her tirades and then as usual she made him close his eyes with unconcealed irritation.

“Don’t you look at me like that! I blame you lot for this. Her, that hard-hearted whore of a sister of yours, I bet she’s behind it.”

The nurse was trying not to laugh and suddenly Roy realised that his domineering mother was the archetypal figure of fun to most people. He only wished she was to him.

A young policewoman pulled back the curtain to the casualty cubicle and raised her eyebrows. She was amazed at what was going on and it showed. The Ryans were notorious, and yet here was one of them being shouted at and abused by his own mother. It was said in the station that her boss was in the pay of this family. That they told him to do the things he did, including blocking the promotions of regular policemen and women and bringing through the ranks only the ones who would kowtow to the Ryans. Her boss was the joke of the station. When he went on holiday one wag had set a rumour going that he was really in hospital, having his chair removed from his arse. He was notoriously lazy. The fact that the holiday in question had been three weeks in a five-star hotel in Florida had caused a few comments as well.

“Mr. Ryan, my superior is outside and would like a word with you.”

Roy stood up. Towering over the three women, he growled, “About fucking time and all.”

As he left the cubicle the girl smiled at Sarah.

“Can you give me a description of the intruder, please?”

Sarah’s wrinkled face took on the look of a contestant in a big-money game show.

“He was neatly built, he was good-looking, and he was dressed as a priest.”

The policewoman smirked.

“A priest? That’s a new one.”

“He’ll be a dead one when I finish with him.”

Benny’s voice made the policewoman jump and he smiled at her coldly. She was young and pretty but Benny didn’t notice. All he registered was the uniform and she knew immediately that he saw her as the lowest of the low. For the first time in her life she felt seriously threatened and yet this good-looking young man had done nothing to her. She saw the expression on his face as he observed his battered grandmother and was very glad she would not be on the receiving end of his anger.

Sarah tried to defuse the situation.

“Oh, Benny, would you take me home, please?”

She looked very old and very frail and the young policewoman listened in surprise as he answered her in an offhand way.

“You’ll survive, Gran. Me dad’s getting you picked up.”

He walked from the cubicle and Sarah’s face settled into its habitual frown.

“Little fucker.” The strength was back in her voice now and the policewoman quickly took the statement required and was glad to leave them all behind her.

It was only back at the station that she fully realised who she had actually been dealing with. The higher echelons of the Ryans were now known to her personally and she was amazed. She was queen of the canteen and enjoyed every second of it. She was just glad she didn’t have to deal with them any more.

Rebekka Kowolski’s house in Totteridge was a shock to Maura. It was huge with electronically controlled gates and the requisite guard Dobermans roaming the grounds.

“Couple of mil here or what?”

Garry sounded annoyed.

“Good luck to them. As long as they tell me what I want to know, I don’t give a toss.”

Maura was deliberately dismissive and this annoyed Garry, as she’d known it would. But all she could think about was Sammy Goldbaum’s face when she had come for him with Michael. It was the only actual murder she had ever taken part in and it still preyed on her mind. It was so long ago yet it felt as real to her now as it had then. The sickness was in her stomach again and she swallowed it down.

They were now directly outside the property and Kenny was asking for entry on the intercom but no one was answering them. He turned back to the car.

“No one home.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Garry opened the panel and tinkered with it. A minute later the electric gates opened. As they drove towards the house they watched with pleasure as the Dobermans made a hasty exit through the open gates.

The house was even larger close up. From the winding driveway they could see the indoor swimming pool and sauna in a glass-sided extension. It really was some property. It was also lit up like Battersea power station yet there seemed to be no one about.

Garry sighed.

“Not Hide and Seek, surely? He’s supposed to be a bit of a face, ain’t he?”

Kenny shrugged.

“So are you, Garry, remember?”

They finished the drive in silence. When they got to the front door they all climbed out of the car. It was eerie; the whole place had the feeling of echoing emptiness that large houses always have when unoccupied.

“Break in, Garry,” Maura ordered.

He was already working on it. She saw that Kenny was nervous and smiled nastily.

“Don’t worry, he’s an expert. No Old Bill will arrive. Garry could get into the Bank of England.”

“Knowing him, he’s a frequent visitor.”

Even Maura had to laugh at this quip and the atmosphere calmed down a little.

“That’s all we need now, done for fucking breaking and entering! We could never hold up our heads again.”

Maura and Garry laughed uproariously. Two minutes later the front door was open and they were in the spacious entrance hall.

“Fuck me, this is real money. They must be coming it in.”

The awe in Kenny’s voice was not lost on Maura.

“Lot of money in gras sing so I hear.”

He didn’t answer her. They walked through to an imposing pair of doors and Maura pushed them open. It was an act she was to regret: the scene of carnage before them was as outrageous as it was sickening. It also brought back memories she had long tried to suppress. Maura assumed the headless corpses on the floor of the drawing room were those of Rebekka and her husband, but none of them stuck around long enough to find out.

All Maura saw was Sammy, Rebekka’s father. He had been headless as well by the time her brother Michael had finished exacting his revenge. This was so like the death scene that Maura felt the icy fingers of fear on her neck.

Whoever was causing all this carnage knew far too much about them all, and that was what frightened her the most.

This was someone they all knew. It had to be someone very close.

The question was, who?

Lee was with one of the Ryans’ long-time associates, an old lag called Denny Thomas. Denny had been a breaker in his day and though now retired he made beer money by keeping his ear to the ground. Everyone knew and liked him, consequently he heard most of what was going on. Occasionally, as now, he was used as the bearer of bad news.

“What do you want, Denny?”

Lee looked round the small council flat and tried unsuccessfully to find a clean place to sit. He finally opted for the arm of a battered leather sofa.

“Come on, spit it out, I ain’t got all night.”

Denny looked nervous and this told Lee he really wasn’t going to like this.

“Someone just tried to nut Vic Joliff in Belmarsh.”

Lee closed his eyes in consternation.

“Who, Denny? Who tried to nut him?”

Denny shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Lee was struggling to keep a lid on his emotions. This was all they needed. He could see how nervous Denny was and felt a moment’s sorrow for the wreck of a man before him.

Denny went to an old-fashioned bar unit, which still held traces of its former glory, and poured them both large Scotches. The whole place had an air of dilapidation and disuse about it; Denny looked like he lived on the streets. Lee wondered how it happened to people; he could remember Denny in sharp suits, and always with a girl on his arm. He had been in the life whole-heartedly. Now he looked like any drunk you could see waiting for their Giro outside the Job Centre.

He passed Lee’s drink to him with a shaking hand.

“Some young fellow was waiting for me outside the pub. He was in a brand-new Saab and he had a soot with him Paki, I reckon. They told me to tell you lot that Vic was on his way out.”

Lee rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“You having a fucking tin bath, Denny?”

Denny gulped at his drink. His face held some of its long-ago hardness as he snapped back: “Do you think I want to get involved in all this, Lee? Is that what you really think? Your brother Michael and me went back years, mate. I was part of this firm when you was still putting fucking Brylcreem on your hair. I was dragged into this shit by strangers and I’m passing on the message. That is all.”

He was worried and he looked it. Once more Lee felt sorry for him. Denny wasn’t stirring, he didn’t have the nous. Which was why he’d never risen higher than common or garden breaker in his day. Lee would pass the message on and see what Maura had to say about it. For now he concentrated on getting descriptions but Denny’s eyesight was past it as he was.

Vic Joliff was scary even by Ryan standards. Lee just hoped he was good and dead; it would make their lives so much easier.

Janine watched her husband as he shaved. It was strange but she actually enjoyed looking at him even while she hated him. Roy still had the power to make her want him, which was almost unbelievable because each of them nursed a burning hatred of the other. Her continuing feelings of attraction to him always amazed her.

“Where you off to then?”

Her voice held the edge it always had when talking to her husband. Roy sighed heavily.

“I’m off out.”

“Will you be home?”

He laughed gently.

“Will the sun come up? Will the grass grow? Till Tony Blair finally become a Catholic… and who gives a fuck?”

Janine walked away from him, through the bedroom, and as she walked took in the clothes he had laid out ready and satisfied herself he wasn’t going out with a girl. And Roy’s birds were girls. Young ones, with pert breasts and the brains of a gnat. According to him that was how he liked them.

It still hurt even after all these years. As she walked downstairs her son shoved past her without even a passing glance or word.

“How was Sarah?”

She hated herself for the sound of her own whining voice but she would do anything to get him to talk to her civilly. Benny didn’t even bother to answer her, just carried on up the stairs as if she had not spoken one word. Janine felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it down; her histrionics, as he called them, only made him more irritated with her.

Her own son ignored her shamefully, but she would wait and one day he would come to her on his knees and beg her to take him back into the fold. It was this thought that kept her going, that kept her alive. And the lifestyle her husband gave her helped, though like Sarah Ryan she would never admit that out loud.

Five minutes later both men were gone and the house was once more empty and cold. As she poured herself a large vodka there was a ring at the doorbell. Tutting loudly she opened the door, expecting her husband or son, assuming they had forgotten something. Instead a shotgun was shoved in her face and she was walked backwards inside the house by a large man in a ski mask.

After the shocking scene at the Kowolski house Maura told Kenny he could go home; they’d be in touch when they had something to go on. He’d seen for himself their shock and surprise, was reluctantly beginning to accept that they were being set up.

After a stiff drink at the club, Maura and Garry met Roy and Benny at their warehouse in Canning Town. It was warm in the small office, and as they all sipped coffee they were quiet.

“Why Mother?”

Maura’s voice was low. Garry shrugged.

“Why not? I mean, whoever this is they’re determined to aggravate us, ain’t they?”

“It seems wherever we go they’ve been there first. They definitely have a working knowledge, don’t they?”

“Could be following us, could have been following us for yon ks Benny sounded as annoyed as he felt. His whole body screamed for violence.

Maura nodded.

“True. I think he has a point, don’t you?”

Garry wasn’t impressed.

“Someone would have noticed it. Fuck me, we ain’t amateurs, are we?” He grinned.

“Except for little Benny, of course.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Garry laughed loudly but Maura was irritated and so was Roy.

“Why don’t you grow up, Garry? This is serious.”

“I know it’s serious, but we have to keep things in perspective. Laughing at adversity is the great British way, ain’t it? I mean, think about it.”

Maura shook her head in consternation.

“Well, I ain’t laughing. Mother, as big a pain in the arse as she is, did not deserve a slap, especially not from some little firm with dreams of the big time. Because that is all this can be. We just have to get out and about and find the culprits. We start by routing old-time members of the family like I said before. Whoever this is knows far too much of our past history. Someone’s telling tales.”

They all nodded, digesting this bit of logic.

BOOK: Maura's Game
3.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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