Briony sat down in her chair and sighed. Outside the office was the sound of Bessie singing, the clinking of glasses, the buzz of conversation. If only they were out there instead of in here, trying to make sense of something that happened over twenty years ago. Something that should have stayed buried.
‘Listen, my love. Your father was a big handsome man when he knew your mother. Really, he was like a big black Adonis if that’s possible!’ She smiled to take the edge off the words. ‘He was talented, really talented. Together they could have conquered the world. When I got rid of him, and I did get rid of him, make no mistake about that, it was because twenty years ago...’ Briony swallowed hard. ‘Well, you have to realise, it was in the twenties. Mixed marriages were unheard of then. It wasn’t like now when lots of girls marry their black GIs. It’s a different world now, love. Then it would have ruined your mother and him. A black man seen with a white woman could cause murder to be done.’
Liselle sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. ‘Your father looks like he does now because I sent someone to force him to leave. Well, the bloke, Kevin Carter, went too far. He broke his hands. I never asked him to, I take oath on that, Lissy. But I suppose that having his hands destroyed stopped Evander earning his living, doing what he did so well. He was a brilliant jazz pianist once, believe me, and I truly regret my part in putting an end to his career.’
Liselle nodded, trying to take in what her aunt was saying, trying to decipher her true feelings from amongst the sadness and shock that was enveloping her. Her aunt made it all sound so nice, so romantic. Her mother wanted the brilliant black man who could play the piano. Now, all these years later, Liselle was to be saddled with a man who’d been crippled because her aunt thought that getting rid of him was the best thing at the time.
‘Shall I take you home?’
Liselle shook her head. ‘Can I stay with you, please? I don’t want to see me mum. Not for a while.’
Briony smiled and put her arm around the girl’s slim shoulders. ‘You can stay as long as you like, my darlin’. You know that.’
The twins had arrived at the club just after one-thirty. Briony had sent Liselle home with Tommy to look after her. She herself was determined to find Kerry. She was not at home, Briony had been ringing in ten-minute intervals, so they made their way to Rillington Place.
The twins had listened to Briony’s explanation of the night’s events in silence. Boysie shook his head in disbelief. His Aunt Kerry was a fruitcake. Poor old Liselle! They knew that their own mother hadn’t been all the ticket, and now by all accounts Aunt Kerry was tipping herself over the edge. Well, they were finally going to meet the soot who had caused all this hag. They hoped for his sake he wasn’t here to try and cause trouble.
Briony had voiced the opinion that it seemed funny, on reflection, for a man to turn up all these years later and rent a house. A tourist went to a hotel. Suddenly, it seemed very suspicious. Getting in touch with Kerry whose number wasn’t listed ... Who did he get it from? Who else knew he was here?
‘Don’t worry, Mum. If necessary we’ll blast off every front door in the road but we’ll find the right house. Stop letting it bug you.’
Boysie caressed a Beretta he kept with him at all times. Daniel smiled as he drove. In the boot was a shotgun that could kill a marauding elephant at a hundred paces. They’d find out the score all right.
In fact, he was quite looking forward to it.
After Liselle had left the house, Kerry got up to follow her. Then three men walked into the room. Kerry, in her usual drunken state, barely noticed. But when one man, whom Evander addressed as Mr Skip, pushed her back into her seat, it dawned on her that here was big trouble.
She looked at Evander with frightened eyes. ‘What’s going on here? Who are this lot?’
Skip laughed out loud.
‘We are your biggest nightmare. Pour the lady a drink, Marty.’
Marty did as he was bidden and Kerry took it gratefully. But as Skip explained to her what they wanted, she gradually began to feel a numb fear.
Evander listened to Skip’s gloating voice, wishing himself anywhere in the world but in this dirty little room. As he watched Kerry’s eyes widen with fear and the realisation of what was happening, he felt sick inside himself.
Twenty-five thousand dollars was a lot of money. But was it really worth all this? When did this get so out of hand? When did it become so dirty, and so shaming?
As Skip had played back the tape Kerry’s mouth had opened and shut, like a fish out of water, gasping for life. Now she knew why he had asked her three times why she had named her child Liselle for his mother. Why he had repeatedly asked her about their life together. It was for this. Even in her drunken, drugged state she saw what a fool she’d been. She’d wanted to right wrongs when the biggest wrong was being done to her!
She started to laugh, a low chuckle at first. Then, as all became crystal clear, it turned into a full-throated belly laugh. Four pairs of eyes watched her in amazement.
‘You can give this to anyone you like. The newspapers, anyone. I couldn’t give a monkey’s fuck!’ Her voice was shrill. ‘I ain’t ashamed any more. I don’t care. My baby knows now. She knows. Once she knew about this, it was blown wide open. You did all this for nothing ... nothing!’
Skip gave her a stinging blow across the mouth. But still she laughed.
‘Go on, beat me up! Nothing you can do to me can really hurt me, because I’ve been hurting all my life.’
But the laughter was gone from her voice now.
Skip, seeing his well-laid plans go awry, took her at her word. He began to lay into her with heavy fists. Evander stumbled across the room, his useless hands clawing at the man attacking Kerry. The two younger men watched with morbid fascination. Evander turned to them.
‘You fools! She’s famous ... If you really hurt her, you’ll all be finished.’
His voice persuaded the other two. They began pulling Skip off her, dragging him from the room as he hurled abuse at Kerry, at them and at Evander. They pulled him into the kitchen and tried to calm him down.
Evander went to Kerry. Her mouth and one eye were bleeding profusely. Her arms were crossed defensively. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close, sorry to the core for what he had brought on her.
An hour later he saw the headlights of a car coming up the road. The curtains were back. He had opened the window to let in some air. Skip, calmer now, was still in the kitchen, trying to salvage part of his plan. Marty sat in the room with them, refusing to let either Kerry or Evander leave.
Kerry’s face was swollen, her lip split, one eye black and blue. Evander was still holding her to him tightly. The shock of what had happened had counteracted the vodka and even the pills. Kerry was aware that they were both in great danger. Skip came into the room, calmer now.
‘Listen to me, lady. I am gonna sell those tapes to the newspapers and whether you care or not, your career will be destroyed. Everyone will know what your daughter is and what you are. I have ten black men who will sign confessions saying they’ve slept with you. Had disgusting, perverted sexual relationships with you. Your name will be dirt, synonymous with every kind of filth, when I’ve finished. Unless you pay me what I want. Do you understand what I’m telling you?’
Kerry nodded painfully. ‘How mueh?’
‘Three hundred thousand pounds. I’ve upped the ante because I don’t like mouthy broads, especially mouthy broads who sleep with niggers.’ His voice was so vehement even Evander was shocked.
‘I don’t have that kind of money.’
It was Skip’s turn to laugh now. ‘Then my advice to you, little lady, is to find someone who does.’
The car Evander had heard was the twins’ Aston Martin.
As they parked in the narrow road and got out, they saw into the room of number sixteen. It was the only house still lit up.
‘Wait here and keep down,’ Danny ordered.
Creeping into the small front garden he looked in at the window of the lounge. The net curtains were about two inches too short for the window and he saw Kerry sitting on the settee opposite him, her face bloody. Beside her was the black man, Evander Dorsey; he was holding her hands in his. The three white men were sitting around the room watching them; one had a gun beside within easy reach of his hand. Daniel found his eyes riveted to his aunt and the man beside her. He glanced once more at the gun and went back to Boysie and Briony.
‘They’re in there all right, with three other men. One has a gun. Aunt Kerry’s face is a mess, someone’s roughed her up.’
‘What?’ Briony’s voice was incredulous.
‘That’s the truth, the coon’s sitting on the settee with Aunt Kerry. Something is happening here, Mum, and I don’t know what. But me and Boysie will find out in about one minute.’ He motioned to Boysie with his head. ‘Come on, round the back. You sit in the car and wait. We’ll open the front door when everything’s sorted.’
Briony bridled.
‘Excuse me, Danny ...’
‘Mum, please do as we ask - there’s a shooter in there. Danny and me will sort it. Now sit in the car and wait.’
He took the Beretta from his coat and checked to see it was loaded.
Briony snatched the gun from him.
‘Listen to me, you two will do as I say for once. I mean it. Get around the back. I’m going in the front. I’ll sort out the geek with the gun once I’m in there.’
Boysie shook his head.
‘Oh, leave it out, Mum...’
‘No! You leave it out. That’s my sister in there, and something’s not kosher. Don’t let’s argue amongst ourselves out here. They’ll let me in. I’ll pretend I’ve come because of Liselle, because she’s so upset. You two come in in five minutes, right? I don’t want to hear any more about it.’
With that she walked away from them and up the pathway towards the front door. She turned and motioned to them to go around the back. As they disappeared down the alleyway that separated the house from the one next-door, she put her own Beretta into the pocket of her fox fur coat and knocked loudly on the door. Inside, everyone stood stock still as the hammering on the door reverberated through the house.
Skip slid off the table and picked up the gun.
‘Stay here, I’ll deal with this.’ Pushing the gun into the waistband of his trousers and covering it with his jacket, he went out into the cold hallway. He opened the door to a tiny redhead and breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Is my sister still here? My niece came home in a terrible state. Is Kerry here...’ Briony walked into the house without a by your leave, pushing past the man to walk into the lounge.
Kerry’s face and Evander’s frightened eyes told her everything.
Turning to the man who had answered the door, she said in a shocked voice: ‘What the hell is going on here?’
The man walked towards her, smiling nastily. As he opened his mouth to speak, Briony moved so fast he didn’t have time to think. Nobody did. In a split second she was behind him with the Beretta digging into his kidneys.
‘One move, big boy, and I’ll splatter your guts all over this house!’ She looked at the two other hoods, still sitting in the fireside chairs. ‘Take out any weapons you’ve got and place them on the floor in front of you.’ Skip started to put his arms down and Briony pushed the gun into his back once more.
‘Don’t even think about it! I’ll just take you with me, boy. I’ll take your gun myself, thank you.’
As she spoke Daniel and Boysie walked into the room. The sight of sawn-off shotguns gave all three prisoners a sinking feeling in their guts.
Boysie and Daniel, smiling now, were looking the three Americans over.
‘Imagine leaving your back door open.’
‘Especially in an area like this. It’s a wonder you weren’t burgled. Now I think we need a few explanations, and you three are going to provide them.’ Danny’s voice was soft as silk.
As Skip looked at the two young men and the tiny redhead he knew he would never see the outside of this room. Shaking his head in amazement, he resigned himself to that.
One thing Skip had always had in his favour: he knew when he was beaten.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Briony listened with barely controlled emotion as Evander told the whole story. His voice was low, honest and without guile. He did not attempt to underplay his own role or justify himself, which did him some good with Briony and the twins. The East End had a saying: ‘If you get a capture, hold your hand up.’ When he said that Skip was related to Tommy Corolla, a Mafia don, the twins laughed out loud.
Boysie, always quick to joke, said to Skip, ‘I couldn’t give a fuck who your godfather was, mate, my godfather’s bleeding Jonathan la Billière. You’re dead as a frigging doornail, not because of what you done, but because of who you done it to. You so-called Mafia prats should find out just who you’re dealing with before you start your little games over here.’
To prove his point he punched Skip in the head three times, knocking him to the ground. Boysie was losing that famous temper of his. Briony watched calmly.
‘Leave it for a while, Boysie love. Let Evander finish.’
‘He’s a ponce, they’re all ponces, that black bastard included!’
Kerry was crying softly. ‘Look, leave it, please, I just want to go home now!’
Briony patted her arm and said loudly, ‘What you want, Kerry, is a drink. Well, this is one time when you’ll have to wait. We have to sort this thing out tonight, once and for all.’
Looking at Evander, she said, ‘I take it you’re sorry now, for all this?’
Evander looked at the ground. He nodded.
Briony stared at him. He was like a caricature of the man she’d known. Every time she saw his hands, she felt a flush of shame.