She's Out (6 page)

Gloria stepped over the clods of earth and headed back to her Mini. He remained watching as she reversed straight into a pothole and let rip with a stream of expletives. He was gobsmacked.

Ester was now checking the cutlery. Some of it was quite good but it all needed cleaning, as did every plate and cup and saucer. Kathleen was now on duty in the dining room,
dusting the chairs, when the crate of wine was delivered. She was ready for a drink and about to open a bottle when they all heard the tooting of a car horn and the sound of Gloria Radford
arriving, towed in by a tractor.

They all stood on the doorstep, watching the spectacle. Julia turned to Ester. ‘Subtle as ever. I suppose you wanted the entire village to know we were here.’

‘Me bleedin’ back end’s fucked!’ yelled Gloria, as she heaved out a case.

Julia winced as Gloria made some financial deal with the old man on his tractor to tow the car to the nearest garage. She was so loud and brassy that she was almost comical: her fake-fur leopard
coat slung round her shoulders, her too-tight, puce, wrap-around shirt. ‘Er, Ester, you got a few quid I can bung ’im?’

Julia saw Ester purse her lips and join Gloria at the tractor.

‘Is she ’ere yet, then?’ screeched Gloria.

Ester paid ten quid to the tractor driver and directed him to the nearest garage that would be able to repair the Mini.

Gloria banged into the hallway. ‘Cor blimey, this is the old doss-house, is it? Hey, Kathleen, how are you doin’, kid?’ Kathleen said she was doing fine, then Gloria pointed at
Connie. ‘I know you, do I?’

Connie shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, I’m Connie.’

‘You one of Ester’s tarts, then, are you?’

Connie’s jaw dropped. ‘No, I am not.’

Gloria seemed unaware of how furious Connie was. She turned to Julia. ‘I didn’t know you was on this caper, Doc.’

‘I didn’t know you were,’ said Julia sarcastically.

‘You sure you got Dolly comin’? I mean, I come a hell of a long way to get here, you know. This is all on the level, isn’t it? She is coming, isn’t she?’ Julia had
to turn away because she wanted to laugh out loud.

Ester clenched her fists: Gloria had only been there two minutes and she was under her skin like a rash. ‘She’ll be here, Gloria. Just get some old gear on and start helping us,
we’ve got a lot to do.’

‘Right, you tell me what you want done, sweet face. I’m ready, I’m willin’ and nobody ever said Gloria Radford wasn’t able.’

Ester looked at her watch. She thought she should have received a call from Dolly by now but she said nothing, just hoped to God she had played her cards right, that Dolly would, as she had
anticipated, arrive. She had laid out a lot of cash already and if wily old Dolly Rawlins copped out, she was in trouble. Like the women she had chosen, Ester was in deep financial trouble. They
were all desperate but Ester more than any of them.

Dolly was out. She had walked out a free woman two hours ago. The fear crept up unexpectedly. Suddenly she felt alone. She stood on the pavement, as her heart began to beat
rapidly and her mouth went bone dry. She was out – and there was no one to meet her, no one to wrap their arms around her, no place to go. She saw the white Rolls Corniche; it was hard to
miss, parked outside the prison gates. She stepped back, afraid for a moment, when a uniformed chauffeur stepped out and looked towards her.

‘Excuse me, are you Mrs Rawlins, Mrs Dolly Rawlins?’

Dolly frowned, gave a small nod, and he smiled warmly, walking towards her. ‘Your car, Mrs Rawlins.’

‘I never ordered it.’

He touched her elbow gently. ‘Well, my docket says you did, Mrs Rawlins, so, where would you like to go?’

Nonplussed, she allowed herself to be manoeuvred to the Rolls. He opened the door with a flourish. ‘Anywhere you want. It’s hired for the entire day, Mrs Rawlins.’

‘Who by?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘You, and it’s paid for, so why not? Get in, Mrs Rawlins.’ Dolly looked at the prison, then back to the car in which there was a small bouquet of roses, a bottle of champagne,
and an invitation. ‘I don’t understand, who did this?’

The chauffeur eased her in and shut the door. Dolly opened the invitation.

Dolly read and reread the invitation. She knew Ester Freeman but she’d not been that friendly with her.

‘Where would you like to go, Mrs Rawlins?’

She leaned back, still nonplussed. ‘Oh, just drive around, will you? See the sights.’

‘Right you are.’

She saw the portable phone positioned by his seat. She leaned forward and picked up the phone.

‘Call any place you want, Mrs Rawlins.’

She turned the phone over in her hand, never having seen one before, and then she smiled softly. ‘My husband would have loved one of these,’ she whispered.

J
ames ‘Jimmy’ Donaldson was a small, sandy-haired man. He looked younger than his fifty-five years because he was so compact and his
hair was thick with a deep widow’s peak at the temple. He was exceedingly nervous, having been brought from a woodwork class to be confronted by DCI Craigh and DS Mike Withey. The prison
officers left the three men alone, which seemed to unnerve Donaldson even more, and his eyes darted back and forth from one man to the other.

Craigh asked quietly if he knew a woman called Dorothy Rawlins. Donaldson shook his head, then shifted his buttocks on the chair to sit on his hands, as if afraid they would give him away
because they were shaking.

‘You sure about that, Jimmy?’

He nodded, blinking rapidly, as Craigh, still speaking softly, asked him about the diamonds.

‘I don’t know anything about them,’ he stuttered.

‘She’s out today, Jimmy. Dolly Rawlins is out.’ Craigh began to wander around the small, cold room, suggesting that if Donaldson could assist them, then perhaps they could make
things much easier for him, maybe even get the authorities to move him to a nice, cushy open prison.

Two hours later, Donaldson was taken from Brixton Prison to their local nick. It was done fast and Craigh made sure that it was put out that Donaldson required a small operation, just in case
the word spread they had got him, so that when and if they sent him back he wouldn’t be subjected to threats for grassing. All he had admitted so far was that he might know about the diamonds
but he refused to say anything more unless he was taken out of the jail.

On the journey he brightened up at the prospect of being moved, even going home to visit his wife. Craigh had laughed. ‘Don’t get too excited, Jimmy, because we’ll need to know
more – a lot more. You’re doing time for fencing hot gear right now and we’ve not got much sway with the prison authorities. All we do is catch ’em, the rest is not down to
us unless you have some very good information.’

It was almost six thirty by the time Donaldson was taken into the station, and he was given some dinner before they really began to pressure him. He admitted that he knew Dolly Rawlins but he
had known her husband better, and had held the stones for her as a favour. When asked if Rawlins instigated the diamond raid, he swore he didn’t know and he was certain that Mrs Rawlins
couldn’t have done it because she was a woman. He knew she had killed her husband but word was he’d been fooling around with a young bit of fluff who’d had a kid by him. At the
time of the shooting, there were many rumours around as to what had happened, but the truth had always been shrouded by mystery – and fear, because Harry Rawlins was a formidable and
exceptionally dangerous man, nicknamed the ‘Octopus’ because he seemed to have so many arms in so many different businesses. No one was ever sure how much power he had but a lot of men
known to have crossed him had disappeared.

Harry Rawlins had instigated a raid on an armoured truck: the plan had been to ram it inside the Strand underpass but the raid had gone disastrously wrong. The explosives used by his team had
blown their own truck to smithereens; four men inside had died, their charred bodies unrecognizable. Dolly Rawlins had been given a watch, a gold Rolex from the blackened wrist of one of the dead
men. She had buried his remains, the funeral an ornate affair, with wreaths from every main criminal in England. In many instances they were sent not out of sympathy, but relief.

Dolly Rawlins had been in deep shock. The husband she had worshipped for twenty years was gone, and the void in her life could not be filled, made worse by the pressure from villains trying to
take over her husband’s manor. Her grief had turned to anger when they approached her at his graveside, but then to icy fury. When she found Harry’s detailed plans for the abortive
robbery, Dolly Rawlins drew together the widows of the men who had died alongside him in the truck. She manipulated and cajoled them into repeating the raid that had taken their men. Always a
strong-minded woman, Dolly grew more confident and arrogant each day. Her belief that they could handle it quelled their fears, and her constant encouragement and furious determination ensured that
they not only succeeded in pulling off one of the most daring armed robberies ever, but she also made sure they got away with it. She had been doing it for Harry, using his carefully laid plans.
Never for one moment had she believed or even contemplated his betrayal.

Harry Rawlins was alive. He had been the only one to escape from the nightmare raid that killed his men. Rawlins had arranged that when the raid was over, he would never return to his wife, and
would leave Dolly for his mistress, a twenty-five-year-old girl. To his stunned amazement, Harry Rawlins had watched as Dolly went ahead with the raid, and laughed because he knew that if she
succeeded he would take the money. Her audacity amused him. Safe in his girlfriend’s apartment, he had watched and waited, had played with his baby girl, the child Dolly had craved to give
him. But Harry Rawlins had underestimated his wife.

Dolly succeeded in the raid and she also found out the terrible truth. She never confronted him – it would have been too dangerous, not for herself but for the other women concerned.
Instead she planned their escape from England, leaving him penniless and desperate.

For a while the widows had lived high but the bulk of the money became a monster they could not control. Dolly returned to England where she knew Harry would come after her. And she waited,
while planning another robbery: the diamond raid. She used the same women, the widows, but this time not everything had gone according to plan. One of them, Linda Pirellie, was killed in an
automobile accident; a second, the young, beautiful Shirley Miller, was shot during the robbery. Dolly got away with the diamonds but the police net was drawing in. Yet again she reacted as her
husband would have. She knew Jimmy Donaldson could be trusted; small-time he might be but he had done a lot of work for Harry in the past and had never been charged so she used that as a lever to
ensure that he would keep the diamonds safe. She could have got away with it but something was more important than the diamonds: her guilt about little Shirley had pushed her to Audrey,
Shirley’s mother, because she felt she owed her a debt. She was the only other person she felt she could trust, because Dolly had used Audrey in the first raid when they had escaped from
England. Audrey would be unlikely to go to the police and she was broke, so the promise of a cut of the diamonds would atone for the shock and grief of Shirley’s death. All Dolly had asked
Audrey to do was wait and in time she would get her share. She had not said how long the wait would be as she didn’t know herself. Because even though she might just get away with murder, in
truth she hadn’t cared. All she had wanted, more than any millions, had been to get revenge. So Audrey had wept but had agreed to take the diamonds to Jimmy and had delivered them that same
night, as Dolly had instructed. The agreement had been that they would have no further contact until Dolly gave the word. Neither Jimmy nor Audrey knew that, as they met, Dolly was waiting for
Harry with a .22.

Harry had been relieved, the hiding-out over. He had known as soon as she saw him that he would be able to talk her round, make her believe that he’d had to lie low because he would have
been arrested. He had allowed her to go through the charade of a funeral because if he hadn’t, the filth would have known he was still alive. So he had waited, confident he could manipulate
her. Never had he considered the pain he had caused her, the terrible grief he had put her through, the wife who had stood by him for twenty years.

Harry had smiled when Dolly approached and had taken a few steps towards her. He had still been smiling when she fired at point-blank range into his heart.

Dolly Rawlins was arrested and charged with manslaughter, a nine-year sentence to be served at Holloway Prison. She had never stopped loving him and the pain never did go away, but the years
eased it. In prison she embraced the hurt inside her, like the child she was never able to conceive.

Jimmy Donaldson hadn’t found out the truth – nobody had – but his fear of Harry Rawlins remained. He hid the diamonds and stuck to his story throughout the lengthy
question-and-answer session following his removal from prison by DCI Craigh. He never mentioned Audrey’s name. All he admitted to was having received a package from Dolly Rawlins. Even after
his subsequent arrest for fencing, he remained silent about the diamonds. In reality, he had been too scared to fence them or mention them to anyone else. Now he began to talk.

‘She’s a tough bitch, you know, hard as nails. Everyone knew how much her old man depended on her – gave him more alibis than you had hot dinners, mate.’

Donaldson became quite cocky as he told them how Dolly had promised he’d get a nice reward for keeping her property safe.

‘So where are they, Jimmy?’ asked Craigh.