The Know (53 page)

‘If they legalised noncing in the morning it would be too late for you, cunt,’ growled Big John. ‘Now shove him in the boot of one of the cars and we’ll dump him in the crusher. He won’t be the first to go out like that in this yard and I daresay he won’t be the last.’

He turned to Pippy Light.

‘You better open your trap, son, then we’ll make it easy for you. But him . . .’ He pointed to his son. ‘He is going in conscious and fully aware of what is happening.’

Pippy knew when he was beaten. He nodded.

‘Can I ask one thing before I go?’

‘You can ask. Whether you get it or not is another thing entirely.’

‘Don’t let me mum know about any of this. Don’t let anything be found, please? It would kill her.’

Jon Jon could not get over the irony of Pippy’s words.

‘She’d be a bit like my mum then, wouldn’t she? Broken, devastated, destroyed? You’ve got some fucking nerve, largeing it up here and asking us to protect your family! What about
my
family? What about the families of the other kids, eh?’

Pippy swallowed.

‘I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.’

‘Fucking right you will.’

James and Gerald dragged their brother from the office, slapping and kicking him as he tried to escape their clutches.

‘Come on then, Jon Jon, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?’

He nodded.

The screams and pleas of Big John’s youngest son, now retribution was on hand, affected them not one iota. But they served to make Pippy more eloquent than he otherwise might have been. Jon Jon killed him in the end. One way or another, Big John had meant to make a murderer out of him tonight and, when he finally pulled the trigger, Jon Jon found he felt nothing but relief.

Paulie finished what he was doing and lit himself another cigarette. He had sent Earl home. Now he waited patiently for his Nemesis to arrive. It was nearly dawn when Jon Jon finally came into the office above Angel Girls.

‘I knew I’d find you here,’ he said.

It was Paulie’s newest toy, the one he’d been proudest of, and he had always valued things above people. He had aged overnight, though, looked almost ancient, and Jon Jon felt a stirring of pity for him. But he forced it deep down inside himself.

Paulie gave him a twisted smile.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in saying sorry? Kira getting involved . . . that was never meant to happen.’

‘Too late for that, Paulie. What does Earl know?’

‘Nothing. I was going to leave that up to you. He’ll swallow it. You’re the business as far as he’s concerned.’

Jon Jon was relieved. He’d have hated to have to take this fight to Earl as well.

‘You know everything now, I take it?’ Paulie continued.

He nodded again, unable to say all he wanted to say to this man. Words weren’t enough to express the depth of the betrayal he felt.

‘I never knew. It was all about money, see,’ Paulie faltered.

‘Always is, ain’t it? Where you’re concerned.’

Jon Jon could not keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice.

‘How’s Big John?’

‘In bits when I left him. He wanted to come here but I said I’d sort it.’

Paulie laughed.

‘I always knew I could rely on you.’

He opened the desk drawer and took out a small hand gun. He saw Jon Jon stiffen at the sight of it and said quickly, ‘It’s all right, mate, this is for me. I have only one stipulation: keep my name out of any shit that comes up, will you?’

Jon Jon’s face was grey with strain, his eyes shadowed.

‘I can’t guarantee it but I’ll try, Paulie. Big John and his boys want it kept quiet, but then they would, wouldn’t they?’

‘What are you going to tell Joanie?’

Jon Jon shrugged.

‘I really don’t know and that’s the truth.’

Paulie bowed his head.

‘All the relevant details are in that blue folder there.’

He pointed to it then downed the last of his brandy at a gulp.

‘OK. I’ll sort it all out for you, Paulie.’

‘Good lad. By the way, I’ve owned Baxter for years.

His Chief Constable too. They’re yours now if you need anything.’

Paulie’s smile was ghastly.

‘I never thought it would all end like this, son, but there you go. Life has a habit of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it.’

Jon Jon didn’t answer. He knew that far better than this wreck of a man sitting before him but forebore to point that fact out.

‘I suppose there’s no chance that Big John . . .’

‘No chance at all. Either you do it or I do, Paulie. The choice is yours.’

Paulie sighed. It was what he’d expected. Why delay the inevitable?

‘Goodbye then. Be lucky.’

Jon Jon turned away and went to the window. He stood watching the regular people below, going early to work, struggling to pay the bills and maybe have a holiday.

Normal people, living normal lives.

The gunshot was loud, but he wasn’t too bothered about the noise. Paulie owned the whole building. And anyway, he had topped himself, hadn’t he?

Assisted Murder might be a better description, but that was all academic now. Paulie Martin was dead, leaving Jon Jon to pick up the pieces. He felt absolutely nothing.

He wiped his fingerprints from the door handle then took the folder downstairs and sat in the deserted reception area, going through all the papers Paulie had left for him.

Half an hour later he was gone, hailing a cab and getting inside, wondering what the hell he was going to tell his mother.

 
Joanie sat up all night waiting for Jon Jon to come home. It was eight o’clock in the morning and Bethany was still asleep. Joanie had left a few messages on Monika’s mobile but had not heard anything, nor did she expect to. Monika would emerge from her pit around lunch-time as usual, none the wiser about the whereabouts of her daughter, as was also usual.

Joanie sipped at her tea. The front door opened and she saw Jeanette coming in.

‘All right, love?’

Jeanette smiled tightly.

‘You’re early. Want a cup of tea?’ her mother said placatingly.

‘Please, then I better get off to school.’

Joanie did not think she had a laugh left inside her, but hearing that statement from Jeanette proved her wrong.

‘Are you having me on?’

The girl sighed and walked through to the kitchen.

‘Nah, I feel like going to school today.’

Joanie was pleased. It was a start anyway.

‘Bethany’s asleep in your room by the way. Don’t wake her, will you?’

‘’Course I won’t. She’s the last person I want nattering on at me.’

They both turned to the doorway as they heard Jon Jon come in.

‘All right, girls?’

‘You look fucking awful, Jon Jon. What have you been up to?’

Jeanette’s voice was loud with curiosity as she took in her brother’s ruined clothes and drawn face.

‘Get ready for school,’ he told her tersely.

Jeanette, for once, did what she was told, much to the amazement of her brother and mother.

‘Sit down, Mum.’

Joanie was busy making him some tea and toast.

‘Paulie was looking for you last night. Came in here like a bear with a sore arse—’

‘Paulie died, Mum. He killed himself an hour ago.’

Joanie stopped what she was doing and turned to face her son.

‘He what?’

‘He shot himself. It’s been on the cards for a while now. He had a lot of hag going on . . . his divorce, business worries.’

He was amazed at the way the lies tripped so easily off his tongue.

She looked at her son closely, saw the fine lines around his eyes and mouth.

‘What’s really happened, Jon Jon?’

He shrugged.

‘What do you mean?’

From the moment she had first held this boy he had captured her heart. They all had, all her kids, and she knew them better than they knew themselves.

‘Please tell me what’s going on, Jon Jon. I’m no one’s mug, I know there’s more to this.’

As she said it Bethany came out of the bedroom and Jon Jon looked at her as if she was straight from his worst nightmare.

He could never again see her as a fresh-faced schoolgirl, not after what he had seen her doing - and willingly if those photos were anything to go by. Unlike his little sister who had fought all the way to the bitter end.

Joanie saw his reaction and realised that he knew.

‘Go back to bed, sweetheart, and I’ll bring you through a bit of breakfast.’

Bethany didn’t need to be told twice. She could feel the atmosphere in the room. Jon Jon frightened her, he always had, but since Kira’s going she was doubly afraid of him.

‘Let Jeanette get to school and then I think we’d better talk, son.’

He nodded and carried on drinking his tea. His mother deserved the truth. Maybe, just maybe, they could put it all behind them then.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Joanie had packed her son’s suitcase and now was sipping her morning coffee liberally laced as usual with vodka.

It was as if the world had gone mad, and she was the only sane person in it. But she pushed this thought from her head as she had taught herself to do many years ago. All her life she had been pushing things from her mind, letting things go, always trying to make the best of everything. It was what you did when you had children and they still depended on you for everything, even if they didn’t realise it.

Still, she liked to console herself with the fact that Paulie couldn’t have known what he had been financing - even though the sensible part of her brain knew he must have had a pretty good idea.

So why couldn’t she hate him?

She supposed one day she would be able to think about it all properly, and then she would put it into perspective. Until then she would bury it away, with all the other miserable thoughts and events that had clogged her life since she could remember. She had wanted better for her kids than she had experienced, and in a small way she had achieved that. She had to comfort herself with that belief or she would never be able to live through another day. She started to make breakfast for Jeanette. A nice omelette. She was eating a lot lately and Joanie suspected that her daughter was in the club, but she wasn’t going to force the issue. There had been enough fighting and arguing to last them all a lifetime; her daughter would tell her when she was ready. Plus it made Joanie feel useful and at this moment that was what she needed more than anything.

She threw some bacon under the grill and decided Jon Jon was going to have a cooked breakfast whether he liked it or not.

Once he had left the house she would get ready for Paulie’s funeral. She still wasn’t sure if she was going to go but she might feel the need. She had something else she needed to do as well but as yet could not pluck up the courage to see it through. Jon Jon had told her in no uncertain terms to keep well away.

He walked into the kitchen as if her thoughts had conjured him up, looking so handsome she wanted to cry. Even his dreads looked smart on him. It was his fine-boned good looks, he could carry off anything.

‘Oh, Mum!’

But she could tell that the smell of bacon was working its usual magic and he would eat whatever she prepared.

‘Are Rastas supposed to eat bacon?’

Jon Jon laughed gently.

‘Who gives a fuck, Mum? Get it on the plate, girl.’

She loved it when they acted like everything was still normal. She could almost imagine Kira coming in and demanding the same as her big brother. See Jon Jon feeding her little bits of his breakfast to her. He had been such a good brother.

‘You all ready?’

He nodded.

‘Baxter’s picking me up in about ten minutes.’

‘You’re a good boy, Jon Jon.’

He smiled and grabbed her hand.

‘I had a good teacher, didn’t I?’

He saw the tears come into her eyes and, standing up, hugged her. Even the smallest kindness set her off crying these days.

‘Look, Mum, whatever happened it’s not our fault, OK? We did the best we could and that is all anyone can do.’

‘Tell me Paulie didn’t know. Please, Jon Jon, promise you’ve told me the truth.’

‘He didn’t, Mum, honest to God. So stop beating yourself up about it.’

She knew when to let things rest and nodded sadly. Jon Jon couldn’t keep going over things, it upset him too much.

There was a loud banging on the door and he jumped up to answer it. Baxter’s loud voice could be heard and Joanie automatically made him a cup of tea.

‘That looks handsome, Joanie,’ he said, with a nod at Jon Jon’s unfinished breakfast.