Stay Dead (42 page)

‘It’s two in the afternoon,’ said Annie, starting to smile.

‘Shut up,’ said Max with a grin, and lifted her into his arms.

‘Ow! Watch the damned rib,’ she said.

‘I
said
, shut it.’

1995

Pete Jones was just going out into the prison exercise yard, lined up with a load of other cons, all jostling each other, talking, telling jokes, taking the piss, all of them
waiting for the gates to be opened.

He’d been handed down a twelve-year stretch for doing Dolly Farrell, but he reckoned he’d be out in eight and it was worth it because he’d done it, he’d got even with
that bitch for what she’d done to his family. He’d loved his mum, couldn’t ever get over losing her. And Grandpa, his death had been for what? Just so some vicious cow could get
her revenge on someone. None of it should ever have touched his family, but it had, and he was glad he’d made her pay the price for that.

The sun was shining. He couldn’t wait to get out in the yard, kick a ball about, stretch his legs. Stir wasn’t so bad, once you got used to it. Bit rough, and you had to watch out
for the queers after a slice of your arse in the showers, but not too bad. No cats, though. He missed Benj, but Benj was all right, Dad was looking after him. He was sorry about this prison
business for Dad’s sake. But he’d get out, make it up to him. Put all this shit behind the both of them.

Then someone shoved him from behind. He turned.

‘Easy,’ he complained, seeing a hard, dark-eyed face close to his own.

‘This is for Dolly Farrell,’ said the man, and plunged a knife straight into Pete Jones’s heart.

He died instantly, collapsing to the ground, an image of Benj the last thing he thought of before he kissed goodbye to this world and headed for the next. His murderer moved on, and was quickly
lost in the crowd of other cons.

Later that day, one of the cons made a call out to a mate.

‘It’s sorted,’ he said, and put the phone down.

The man he’d phoned went out, down the pub, saw
another
man. ‘It’s sorted,’ he said.

Next day, Steve Taylor made a call to Barbados. When Annie Carter came on the line, he said: ‘Hiya, Mrs C. Tell Max that business he wanted seeing to? It’s done.’

Annie was silent for a moment. Then she said: ‘I’ll tell him.’

She put the phone down, looked out of the big picture window of the villa at the crystal-blue Caribbean and the azure of the cloudless sky above it, and thought,
There you go, Doll. Hope
you’re safe in heaven now, babe, with the angels
.

Then with a light step she walked out on to the sunlit terrace to join Max.

By Jessie Keane

THE ANNIE CARTER NOVELS

Dirty Game

Black Widow

Scarlet Women

Playing Dead

Ruthless

Stay Dead

OTHER NOVELS

Jail Bird

The Make

Nameless

Lawless

Dangerous

Thanks go to Jane Gregory of Gregory & Co and to the Pan Macmillan team. A special mention here for my editor, Wayne Brookes, whose skill and patience has helped catapult
my books into the
Sunday Times
Top 10 bestseller list.

Thanks to White & Co who helped me move vast piles of books and waterlogged belongings this year, and to James Colville who guided me through the whole process of (finally) moving home while
writing this book at the same time.

Last but never least, thanks to all the supermarkets and stores and bookshops who stock and sell my books – and all my readers, bless you! Big thanks too to all my Facebook and Twitter
friends, followers and fans. It really wouldn’t be the same without you.

Jessie Keane is a
Sunday Times
top ten bestselling author. She’s lived both ends of the social spectrum, and her fascination with London’s underworld led her to write
Dirty Game
, followed by bestsellers
Black Widow
,
Scarlet Women
,
Jail Bird
,
The Make
,
Playing Dead
,
Nameless
,
Ruthless
(the fifth book to feature Annie Carter),
Lawless
and
Dangerous
. Jessie’s books have sold more than 750,000 copies.

She now lives in Hampshire. You can reach Jessie on her website
JESSIE-KEANE.COM
.

Or find her on Facebook
WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/JESSIEKEANE
or Twitter
@REALJESSIEKEANE

First published 2016 by Macmillan

This electronic edition published 2016 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com

ISBN 978-1-4472-5432-4

Copyright © Jessie Keane, 2016

Cover Photo © Colin Thomas
Background Photo © Peeter Viisimaa / Getty
Author Photo © Alexander James

The right of Jessie Keane to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third-party websites referred to in or on this book.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital,
optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be
liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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