Maura's Game (33 page)

“Roy, son, calm yourself down. Get the brandy from the front room. We could all do with some.”

He rolled his eyes in consternation at his mother.

“Fucking brandy, Muwer? A fucking handful of Es in your tea wouldn’t make this lot fucking better. The filth will be all over us like a rash. I’ve already got them sitting outside my drum, and they’re out there now.”

He waved a hand in the general direction of the front door.

Sarah sighed.

“That’s nothing new, Roy, they’ve watched this house for years. I used to make them cups of tea at one time.”

“I don’t think cups of tea will appease this lot, Mum. The little fucker he is.”

Sarah nodded and said spiritedly, “The shame and degradation I feel because of that little bastard! How will I hold me head up with the neighbours? At the church, more importantly?”

Roy was short and to the point.

“The same way you always did, Mum, by giving them a fucking hefty bit of wedge. If anyone can buy their way into Heaven it will 11 be you.”

Never had Roy spoken to his mother like that and her face showed how hurt she was at his words.

Lee was standing in the doorway and said sharply, “Hold up, Roy, that’s enough of that talk. Can’t you see how upset she is?”

“Upset? Is that what you call it?” I Roy’s voice was incredulous.

V “You are over-reacting,” Lee said.

“This will all be sorted by the morning. Leave Mum be now, she’s overwrought.”

Roy turned to his brother and, walking towards him, bellowed in his face: “She is overwrought? What about me? He’s my son. A fucking lunatic I’ve bred! My God, you all act as if this is fucking normal or something. He is a mad cunt and we all know that but it suits us to have him in the family, don’t it? Gives us that extra bit of rep we need. The Ryans. The fucking mud Ryans.

“Well, this is too much even for me. A head in a hat box in his wardrobe? Sleeping in that room with that girl having his baby, and all the time he knew there was a head sitting in a fucking box, decomposing and stinking the fucking place out and you think I am over-reacting? Are you having a fucking laugh or what?”

Carla started crying.

“Stop it, Dad, you’re frightening me.”

Roy looked at his daughter.

“I tell you something, Mum, you should have been done like a fucking cat after Michael and Geoffrey. Instead you still churned out little nutters for the old man and now we’re turning out some of our own. You are responsible for about fifty per cent of the violent crime in London only you are too stupid to fucking see it. All the people who work for us, the whores, the drug dealers you inadvertently made all that happen. So you’d better give a big donation this time, love. It’s gonna cost you dear for peace of mind and a bed in Heaven after this lot.”

Sarah was white-faced with grief at her son’s words. Lee, seeing his mother’s hurt, lashed out at Roy without a second’s thought and caught him a blinder on the chin. Roy went down like a sack of potatoes and Carla’s screaming was all that Garry and Maura could hear as they let themselves into the house.

Garry looked at her and said merrily, “Not another head, surely?”

Maura sighed once more and said casually, “I fucking hope not, Gal.”

They walked into the pandemonium of the kitchen and, Maura being Maura, she quickly saw the score. Taking her mother by the arm she walked her from the room. This was one time, she decided, they could sort it out for themselves.

“I’ll pack you a bag, Mum. Come home with me for a few days, eh?”

Sarah nodded, unable to speak she was so upset by Roy’s words.

Maura hugged her tightly.

“I know how you feel, Mum. I feel the same. It’s a wake-up call, ain’t it?”

Sarah nodded.

For the first time in years she was genuinely glad to see her daughter in her home. And for the first time in years Maura was genuinely glad that she was there.

Abul and Benny were stoned and at the laughing at anything stage.

“There’s another head in the garage.”

“You are joking, Benny!”

Abul’s voice was heavy with shock.

“Well, you know what they say, Abul… two heads are better than one.”

Abul was cracking up with laughter now.

“Stop it, Benny, me guts hurt.”

“Don’t laugh your head off, mate, I’m in enough trouble as it is.”

This started them off once more. They were in absolute stitches as they tried to roll another joint.

“So you don’t know who it was then?”

Benny scratched his head in a parody of a cartoon character thinking.

“Nope!”

Abul knew he was lying but didn’t say anything.

“You’re fucking mad.”

Benny nodded now, seriously.

“I will not dispute that observation. I have been told the very same thing by people with medical qualifications, and who am I to challenge the medical establishment?”

“Shall I get the sandwiches from the car?”

Benny shook his head.

“Nah, we’ll go and eat out, shall we?”

Abul shook his head.

“That’s not a good idea.”

Benny grinned.

“I know. But if we go Ilford way we can eat at your uncle’s place. I fancy a nice curry and rice.”

He could see Abul wasn’t happy but didn’t care.

“Come on, I’ll roll us a nice kinger to smoke in the car. Prime skunk.”

“The family won’t be happy.”

Benny shrugged.

“I had a head in my wardrobe, a very handsome head actually, so I think going out for a quick meal will be pretty low down on my scale of things not to do, don’t you, Abul?”

“You’re in charge, Benny.”

He sighed happily.

“If Carol, that nosy stupid twat, loses my baby, I will fucking Muller her and I mean it. If she had left well alone…”

He was getting angry and Abul knew that, dope or no dope, Benny could still lose it.

“Come on, Ben, she didn’t do it deliberately, did she? I bet she got a fucking fright.”

Benny was laughing again.

“Not half as much as that ponce did when I cut his head off!” He jumped up from the sofa.

“Come on, get a move on, I’m starving.”

Abul followed him from the house. This was freaky even by Benny Ryan standards. But if he wanted a curry, a curry he would have. Benny always got what he wanted, that was half his trouble.

Billy Mills was with Jack when the telephone rang and Jack put on Sky News. The presenter was going through the alleged role the Ryans played in London gangland life, from their control of the ice cream and hot dog vans through to their various clubs, pubs, and other establishments.

The head in the wardrobe had caught the attention of the nation.

There was nothing else in particular going on and it couldn’t have been found at a better time in journalistic terms. They were having a field day.

Jack watched with his henchmen and felt a trickle of fear go through his body. Billy shook his head in disbelief.

“The worst of it all is, Jack, knowing Benny, the bloke probably cut him up driving or something. I bet it wasn’t over something serious. Benny is a fucking nutter, everyone knows that, but he is a good mate. Me and him go back yonks. I remember a few years ago he was only a kid and he cut up an old lag in Silvertown because he thought he had said something derogatory about him.”

Billy was making a point; he had always got on well with Benny. He had drunk with him socially. He was giving Jack a quick warning without having to make it too obvious.

“The sooner someone takes him out the better.”

Billy shrugged.

“You’d have to get past Abul first and then Benny himself that’s without the rest of the Ryans who watch each other like hawks. They give a whole new meaning to the expression “tight-knit family”.”

Billy grinned, that easy grin of his.

“Of course, if you still want a meet, I’ll arrange it for you.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?”

Jack’s voice was low and Billy knew he had hit a nerve.

“Well, that’s why I gave up a day’s racing, a couple of dead certs -one equine and one female and am having to sit here and watch the fucking news, isn’t it?”

“I want my gear back, they robbed me. They fucking burgled me, in fact.”

Jack was still smarting from the cocaine loss and it showed.

“Three hundred fucking kilos those cunts stole and at nearly thirty grand a bar you can work that out for yourself.”

Billy wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation but had a feeling that right now his humour would go unappreciated.

“That’s a lot of dosh. What’s my cut if it’s returned? Five per cent?”

Jack swallowed down his irritation. He had guessed Billy would need a sweetener but there was no need to take liberties.

“Two and a half and that’s a good cut, Billy, so don’t start getting too ambitious. I have only so much patience.”

He was pointing his finger in Billy’s face and Billy Mills knew when to strong it and when to take a step back.

He nodded.

“I will concede that one, Jack. But I can’t offer any guarantees.”

Jack sniffed loudly and nodded.

The deal was struck but it was a deal that Billy knew would never come to fruition. Knowing the Ryans they would offer to sell it back and then negotiations would have to start all over again. They had taken the coke to prove a point, no more and no less. Jack was a prat if he couldn’t work that one out for himself.

But then Jack had never been the sharpest knife in the drawer, whatever inflated opinion he might have of himself, and Billy had always had a good nose for a deal. He was also known to be neutral so he could do the negotiating and still live to tell the tale, whoever he ended up dealing with. All in all he was pleased with his new role as Jack Stern’s go-between. Either way, he would come out on top.

“Can I have another brandy, Jack? They’re going to speculate on who the head could belong to after the break.”

He was rubbing it in and he knew it, but as his old dad had told him many years ago: use what you’ve got. Always find a use for what you’ve got. Never promise what you can’t deliver, and always do a deal with a smile and a friendly word if possible. That advice had served him in good stead all his working life.

Carol was pale and still under sedation when Maura came into the small private room in Basildon Hospital. She looked awful and Maura was heart sorry for the girl who had just lost her baby, and lost it in the most dreadful circumstances.

“How are you, sweetie?”

Carol shrugged, a helpless little movement that made her seem even younger and more vulnerable than she looked.

“Is Benny doing his nut?”

There was fear in her voice, stark terror deep in her eyes.

“Course not, darling’. He’s worried about you.”

The lie came easy to Maura’s lips. Carol had enough to contend with.

“It was such a fright, Maura, seeing that… the head…”

She was getting upset once more and Maura wished then she had Benny in front of her so she could tear his head off with her bare hands.

“Listen, Carol, that was not your fault. It should never have happened.”

Carol nodded, clutching at straws.

“I was silly to go through his stuff, weren’t I? I should have kept away from his wardrobe. He was always telling me to keep away from his private stuff, see.”

Her face crumpled.

“He’s gonna kill me, Maura, this has caused so much trouble. And the baby… my little baby. He’ll blame me, won’t he? That’s why he ain’t been to see me, ain’t it?”

Her voice was rising and the panic was evident. She wiped her tears away with a trembling hand. Maura stroked her forehead and kissed her gently.

“He won’t do nothing to you, Carol. I promise you that, love. But the police, they want to know about the… about what you found, see. They think it was something to do with Benny.”

The girl was looking at Maura warily now and she carried on with the lies, trying to make her voice sound as genuine as possible.

“We think someone else put it there, we don’t think it was anything to do with Benny. So stop worrying, love.”

Carol, as if desperate to believe her, nodded.

“He wouldn’t do that. He ain’t that mad, Maura, just a bit unstable sometimes. He’s got a bad temper, that’s all.”

Maura patted her hand.

Carol looked so young with her nose running and her hair plastered to her head with sweat. She was deathly white and her eyes had deep circles around them. She was still crying silently and Maura felt a strong urge once more to bash Benny’s head in.

“You’ll be all right, I promise.”

Carol turned her face away and buried it in the pillows.

“He’ll kill me for this, Maura, I know he will.”

She sat on the bed and cuddled the grieving girl.

“He won’t. He’s as upset as you are about the baby but he understands, love. I promise you, he understands.”

Carol sat up.

“Listen, I know him. He’s going to go ballistic over all this. But I couldn’t help it. When I saw it, when I saw the head … I was so shocked, it was so awful…”

Maura hugged her once more.

“It was planted in the room, put there to make him look bad…” Her words sounded inane even to her ears but Maura persisted.

Carol pushed her away.

“We both know it wasn’t. It was put there by that mad bastard.”

“You can’t know that, Carol…”

Carol cried harder and said in a whisper, “It was the head of Dean Marks, Maura. It was my ex-boyfriend!”

Maura felt herself pale at the words.

“Have you told anyone else this?”

Carol shook her head.

“Dean went to work in Spain; he left because of Benny hassling him. You know what Benny’s like, couldn’t stand the thought of me having been with anyone else.”

She wiped her eyes once more and Maura saw that the usually perfectly manicured nails had been bitten down to the quick.

“He wouldn’t leave Dean alone. Went to his house, his work. He dragged me over to him once in a club and started slagging us both off. Dean wasn’t a fighter, Maura, he was terrified. Especially when he found out who Benny was. He fucked off, went out to Spain to try and escape from it all.”