Dangerous Lady (52 page)

day went by but she thought of them all. Even Michael, as

a small boy. In her mind’s eye she saw him when he was “

child, when Benjamin used to take him to the bombed-out houses.

She looked around her kitchen. It was nice. Nice ao” clean and modern. A far cry from the days of cockroaches and squalor, when they had coats on the bed to keep them warm and only a thin stew to fill up their ever-empty bellieS’ Oh, they had come a long way since then, and in her own fashion she had been proud of Michael’s determination

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lift himself out of the slums. Until the killing had started. When Anthony had died, she had died a little bit herself. And Benny’s death, her lovely, good-natured Benny who was always in trouble of some kind but always laughing … his death had broken her more than any of them. Then Michael, then Geoffrey. She could never allow that to happen to any of her children again. Or her grandchildren.

She got up from the table and glanced at the clock. It was just on one. She had plenty of time. Benjamin was drinking in the Kensington Park Hotel and would not be back for hours. She went to the phone in her hall and dialled the number she had taken down after Michael’s funeral. She had got the number from Directory Inquiries, and now she knew why. She had taken it down for just such an occasion as this. It was the number of Vine Street Police Station.

‘Good afternoon, Vine Street.’ The clipped impersonal voice crackled in her ears.

‘Can I speak to Detective Inspector Terry Petherick, please?’ Sarah’s voice was quavery and nervous.

‘Who’s calling?’

‘I… I would rather not say. I… I have some information for him.’

‘Hold the line, madam, and I’ll see if he can take your

call.’ The line went silent, and Sarah was beginning to wonder if she was doing the right thing when a deep male v°ice asked how he could help her. “,;.

-to.

lerry Petherick was putting on his sports jacket, ready to 8° to lunch. His friend and colleague Cranmer called to hlm as he was leaving the office.

Wang on, Tel. There’s a call for you. Some woman. She W°“‘t leave her name.’ I

Cranmer held the phone out. Terry walked across the crowded office, his heart beating fast. Surely it could not be Maura? The sensible part of his brain pooh-poohed such an idea but the illogical part hoped and prayed that it was her.

‘Hello, Petherick here.’

This is Sarah Ryan.’ The second name was barely audible.

‘Who?’

‘Maura Ryan’s mother.’ It was a Ryan but not the one he wanted.

‘What can I do for you?’

‘I want to see you, in private like. I have some information. You must keep this secret, though. Some of your men are on my daughter’s payroll.’

Terry frowned. ‘That’s a very serious allegation.’ Sarah swallowed deeply and closed her eyes.

‘I have certain papers in my possession that I think you would be interested in.’ ‘I see. So you want to meet me, is that it?’

‘Yes, that’s it. But you mustn’t let anyone know what you’re doing. Believe me when I tell you these papers could incriminate a lot of people. Do you know Regent’s Park?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll meet you there Saturday. In the Zoological Gardens, outside the cafeteria, at three.’ Sarah replaced the receiver before he could answer. She was sweating profusely. H

Terry stared at the telephone.

‘Who was it?’

‘Mind your own business, Cranmer!’ He tried to make his voice jocular. ‘I’m off for my lunch. See you later’

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As Terry left the police station and went to his car he was intrigued. What could Sarah Ryan, the well-known matriarch of the Ryan family, want with him? He knew that Geoffrey Ryan’s murder was not even really under investigation. How they managed to get away with all they did was a mystery in itself… or was it? He had often thought that one or two of his colleagues were on the take. Not just because they had plenty of money, though that was one sign, but because the Ryans always seemed to be one step ahead of the police. He knew from experience that knowing someone was guilty was one thing, proving it a different thing altogether. He was sure that the Ryans had inside information. Well, he would know when he met Sarah Ryan …

If only he was meeting Maura! But she had come a long, long way since the last time they had met. She was into the Ryan businesses up to her pretty little neck. They were further apart now than ever before. The word on the street was that Maura had taken over from Mickey with all guns blazing.

Suddenly he was not very hungry. All he really wanted was something that he had tasted many years ago. Like Adam and Eve, he preferred forbidden fruit. Sarah put down the telephone and went back to her kitchen. Her heart was beating a tattoo inside her body. She had started the ball rolling, and she was glad. She would end her daughter’s reign of terror. As she set about making her husband a meal, she thought again about what Janine had said and hardened her resolve. She would sacrifice her sons and her daughter if it saved at least one Person from being destroyed. And if little Benny was to be saved, then she was the only one to do it. It wasn’t until much later that she remembered that the reading of Michael’s will was to take place the next day, Friday. Sarah sat in the solicitor’s office with her husband. She sat well away from her only daughter and four remaining sons, as if they carried a fatal disease.

The solicitor, Derek Hattersley, was more nervous than the people in front of him. He kept having to blow his nose. This was a very difficult will. In his experience each member of a family regarded himself as the rightful chief beneficiary. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

‘I must tell you all beforehand that the bulk of Mr Ryan’s estate goes to just one person. He had, however, made some very substantial bequests to you all.’ He smiled, trying to bring a note of lightness to the occasion. The only person to smile back was Benjamin Ryan and Derek Hattersley was aware that the man was slightly drunk.

‘I’ll start then.’ He cleared his throat again noisily and began to read. ‘ “I, Michael David Ryan, being of sound mind, leave everything I own, other than the few bequests I have detailed, to my sister, Maura Ryan.” ‘

Derek Hattersley glanced around the assembled family and was surprised to find that not one person had changed expression. All were as blank-faced as they had been when they arrived. But he reminded himself that these people were also criminals. They would not be the type to show their emotions anyway. He took a deep breath. If they wanted to fight about it, they could do it amongst themselves. He would not get involved.

‘ “I leave her all my properties and holdings. I also leave her two thirds of the monies in my bank account. The rest is to be shared between my mother and father and my brothers. I leave twenty thousand pounds each to my niece

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r

Carla Ryan and my nephew Benjamin Anthony Ryan. This is to be put in trust for Benjamin Anthony until he is twenty-one. Carla Ryan may have access to her money ‘immediately. I also leave fifteen thousand pounds to my great-nephew Joseph Michael Spencer, also to be held in trust until he is twenty-one, and twenty thousand pounds to Gerry Jackson my closest friend.” ‘ Derek Hattersley blew his nose again and looked at the people in his office.,

‘Mr Ryan was adamant that the will be as short as possible and in his own words. He wrote the will himself and I drafted it for him. He also left two letters to be given out on this day. I have no knowledge whatsoever of their contents.’ He relaxed, feeling he had extricated himself from any tricky situation that might arise. ‘The letters are addressed to his mother and his sister.’ He nodded at each woman as he spoke.

Still nobody said a word. Then Sarah asked in a shaky voice, ‘Where’s my letter?’

‘I have it here, Mrs Ryan.’ He passed the long white envelope to her, and Sarah stared at her dead son’s small close-knit writing.

‘I want my share of his money to go to the police widows’ fund.’

Roy was stunned.

‘You can’t do that!’

‘Oh yes I can, Roy Ryan. I want none of his blood money.’ She picked up her handbag and, jerking her head at her husband to follow, left the office.

Derek Hattersley blew his nose again. It was now red and shiny. He passed Maura’s letter to her and she thanked him politely.

‘If you would be so kind as to sign some documents …’

‘Certainly.’ Maura smiled at him.

Twenty minutes later they all left the office.

‘Well, that’s that then, Maws. Mickey’s last will and

testament.’

‘Yeah, Garry. It’s the final parting, ain’t it?’

Leslie put his arm around her. ‘Cheer up, girl. Mickey

wouldn’t want you moping.’

Maura tried to laugh. Leslie trying to be tactful was no!

a very pretty sight.

‘Let’s all go and have a good drink!’ This from Lee. ‘Sounds good to me. What about you, Maws?’ ‘All right then, Roy. Let’s go back to the club. There we

can drink for free!’ Sarah and Benjamin were in the back of a black cab. k Benjamin was annoyed.

‘You’ve got too bloody much of it, Sarah. They’re your own flesh and blood, yet thanks to you I hardly ever see them nowadays.’ m

She crossed her arms over her chest. Ji

‘You should think yourself lucky! They’re nothing but bloody criminals. Mind you, that shouldn’t worry you, should it?’ Her voice was sarcastic. ‘You’re no better. I’ve been on this earth for seventy years, and I’ve spent over fifty of them years with you. Eighteen I was when you got me pregnant, Benjamin Ryan. Eighteen! And I stuck by you, no matter what you did. I stuck by you. And for what? What? To bring a crowd of bloody hooligans into the world, that’s all.’

She looked out of the taxi window at the passing people, all living lives that did not touch hers.

Benjamin scowled, his leathery old face more wrinkled than usual.

‘You make me laugh with all your “holy joeing”. When you was eighteen, Sarah Ryan, you was what would be termed today “a right little raver”!’

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‘I was not!’ Sarah’s voice was incredulous.

The London cabbie was listening avidly to the old people in the back of his taxi and had difficulty in keeping his face straight.

‘Were so!’ Benjamin’s voice had the truculent note that grated on Sarah’s nerves.

‘Oi, mate!’

‘Yeah.’ The cabbie’s voice was full of laughter.

‘Do you know the Bramley Arms?’

‘You hum it, son, and I’ll play it.’

Benjamin scowled deeply at the cabbie. ‘None of your sauce. Just drop me off there. You can dump her where you like.’ He pointed at Sarah with his thumb, leaving her silent and tight-lipped all the way back to Netting Hill.

Once back inside her house Sarah made herself a pot of tea. Taking it into the lounge, as she now called her front room, she poured herself out a cup. Then sitting in her chair by the fire, she opened Michael’s letter. Trust Benjamin not to be interested in his eldest son’s last communication. All he was interested in was the money the boy left. She began to read. Dear Mum,

I am writing this letter to you because I feel that there are many things that have to be said. I know that my life was not what you wanted for me, but it was the path that I chose and I do not regret one day. The only regret I have is that I loved you, Mum, and it hurt me when we fell out with one another. I understood how you felt about Benny, as I loved him as well. If you are reading this then I am with him and Anthony, and gone from your world. I want you to know that I will miss you more than anyone.

I want to ask you something, Mum. I want you to

look out for our Maura. She needs you. She always has done. Since that trouble with the policeman, she has been hurting inside. I know this is true, Mum, because I have watched her. I have done all that I can for her. I now ask you to try and take her back into the arms that held her as a baby. Maura needs her mother. Please tell Dad that I loved him very much.

I will always love you, Mum, no matter what.

Michael :, “I Sarah felt the scalding tears behind her eyelids and squeezed her eyes tightly shut to block them out. The letter in front of her was from the old Michael, the young tearaway, not the hard, embittered, bloodthirsty man that he became. She saw him as he had been the night that Maura was born, tall and strong and with his whole life in front of him.

‘Oh, God. Oh, son.’ She put her hand to her mouth and held it there tightly. Now the tears did break through, like a damn bursting. . M

‘My beautiful son. Oh, God help me, I loved him so much.’ In the club Maura and her brothers were getting drunk. Good and drunk. Maura could feel the first waves of euphoria coursing through her veins, knowing that it would soon turn to maudlin sentiment.

It was a ‘Michael’ day. He was in the forefront of everyone’s mind. Gerry Jackson had joined them and Lee was acting as bartender. Sitting in the meat seats they all drank steadily and seriously, as if by the sheer act of getting drunk they would all feel the pain of Michael’s death less.

‘I can remember when Mickey was working for Joe the, Fish. Handsome bleeder he was then and all.’

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‘That’s a long time ago, Gerry.’ Roy’s voice was unsteady.

Gerry gulped at his gin and tonic. ‘Your old mum used to be really hard up them days. Everyone was. All the birds was after him but he never spent his money on them. Took it straight home to his muwer. Do you know, Maura, that he bought your communion dress from the proceeds of a robbery?’

‘No, Gerry.’ She smiled at him, glad to be talking about her brother.

‘Oh, yeah. I remember it as clear as day. Me and him ripped off a betting shop. He was a crafty sod! Even then he was streets ahead of everyone. Joe the Fish tried to keep him in line but he couldn’t. He was “ducking and diving” all the time he worked for the old git.’ Gerry’s voice was hard now. ‘I hated that old bastard.’

‘Well, Mickey didn’t, did he?’ Leslie was well and truly drunk otherwise he would have chosen his words more carefully. ‘Mickey was knocking him off, weren’t he?’ Garry turned on him. ‘Shut your bloody gob!’ ‘Well, Mickey was queer. Mickey was as queer as a nine-bob note. As for Joe the Fish … that’s where he got the bloody nickname! From “queer as a fish” …’