Dangerous Lady (60 page)

She laughed softly. ‘I sneaked around for months to meet you, lying to my mother and father and my brothers. Then, when I got pregnant and went to your flat to tell you, you finished with me. I had that baby scraped out of me by a dirty little Paki. I can still smell that flat sometimes. I can still see the baby lying in the bottom of a washing up bowl. Perfectly formed and dead.

‘And do you know what the ironic part of it is? I never wanted to be anything other than a wife and mother. I know that the feminists would crucify me if they heard me speaking like this but it was all I ever wanted: a husband, a home, and children. A houseful of children. Then when I had the abortion and it went wrong, I came out of the hospital and all that had been taken away from me. I’had nothing to give to a husband or a lover. I was empty inside. I nearly died, you know. And for a long time that’s exactly what I prayed for. Then I had the idea of working for Michael. He never really wanted me to work in the family business but I forced him. I knew that he felt

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I responsible for what had happened to me and I used that to get the ice cream and hot dogs from him. After that, I gradually took over from poor Geoffrey. ‘If I hadn’t gone into the business then, Geoffrey and Michael would have stayed together as a team. Though Michael never really had a lot of time for him, I must admit that. And somehow, all that happened over the years built up and built up … until this. I’m the most wanted woman in England now and all I ever wanted was to be Mrs Average. That child would be twenty-one now Grown up and going out into the world. Instead it was flushed down a toilet in a multi-storey tower block in Peckham, and I’m being hunted by armed police …’

Her voice trailed away and Terry knew that silent tears were falling from her eyes. For the first time he realise4 just how much he had really hurt this woman. He asked himself for the hundredth time since Mrs Ryan had tola him about the abortion, whether he would have stayed with her had he known. And being an honest person he knew that he could not answer that question so many years later. All he was sure of was that he had wrecked Maura’s life. That she had always been inside him somewhere, like a piece of a puzzle that was gradually being put together

He put an arm around her hesitantly, afraid that she would push him away, but she didn’t. Instead she held oif to him tightly, pulling his body against her own as if tryingf to crawl under his skin. And he held her while she crieqE and was not surprised to feel his own tears fall as they both healed a breach that spanned twenty years. A Richard had heard what had been said and being a tact person coughed loudly before he went into the loung Maura and Terry pulled away from one another an! Richard acted as if he could not see they were both ver

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upset. Instead he smiled brightly and sat on the floor in front of them.

‘I have the most amazing idea. I think that you’ll love it.’

Maura wiped her eyes, grateful for the intervention. He was going up more in her estimation with every hour that passed.

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve been reading what you’ve written down and I think that you have more than enough to do a deal.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Maura’s voice was more alert now.

‘I think that if our friend here …’ he pointed at Terry … ‘goes to see his superiors with a copy of what you have written, and tells them that there are numerous other copies in the hands of unscrupulous people, then they’ll be more than ready to come across.’

‘They’ll never do a deal.’

‘How can you be so sure, Terry? I think that the Secretary of State for the Environment will have the last say on what happens. After all, there are some pretty heavy heads on the chopping block.’

‘But who will we give the copies to?’

‘Let me worry about that, Maura.’

‘I know one person who would be glad to help us.’

‘And who’s that?’

Maura looked at Terry ‘Patrick Kelly.’

‘What, the IRA man?’ Terry’s voice was shocked.

‘Yeah. He’s an old friend of mine. We go back years. Plus he owes me one.’ She thought of Michael as she spoke.

‘Wouldn’t he use it, though?’

‘Only to his own advantage. The British Government are in closer contact with the Irish than people think. They trade information with each other when necessary. The

government know who the real leaders behind Sinn Fein are. Gerry Adams is just the media go-between. The real leaders are never mentioned.’

‘Rich and important men, I suppose?’

‘No, Terry, not all of them. I know that the IRA get a bad press but the majority of them are fighting for a cause that they believe in. Like any society they have all sorts, from the lower end of the scale to the top of it. Kelly is at the top of the scale and I know I can trust him.’

‘So that’s one person. Can you think of any more?’ Richard was loving every second of this now. It was the most exciting night of his life. For the first time he was involved in something that was really important, and even though he would never be able to boast about it, he would know inside that he had been a part of it. Had helped to mastermind it.

Maura frowned. ‘The only other person I can think of is Derek Lane.’

‘But no one knows where he is.’ Terry’s voice was puzzled.

Maura couldn’t help laughing. ‘Terry, Derek Lane and people like him are easy to find if you have the right connections. Michael and I were in partnership with him out in Spain. He owns the monopoly on the timeshares out there. I have the full partnership with him now that Michael’s dead. I could fly out to Marbella and explain the situation to him.’

Terry was flabbergasted. Even though he knew that Maura and Michael were heavyweights as far as the British gangland scene were concerned, he never dreamt for a second that they were in league with people like Derek Lane. Yet he should have guessed. After all, they were birds of a feather really. Derek Lane had gone on the trot

in 1977 and not been seen or heard from since. He was wanted for countless murders and other serious crimes. He had been the Birmingham equivalent of Michael Ryan, only unlike Michael had not tried to work within the law as well as outside it. In the end England had got too hot for him and he had disappeared.

‘Well, that’s two good people. They’ll do for the moment. Now then, Terry, are you willing to be negotiator? Will you go and see Marsh?’ It was the least he could do for Maura.

‘Yes. I’ll go.’

Richard smiled.

‘Good! Now -all we have to do is work out what terms we want and everything will be underway.’

Maura laughed softly. ‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, Richard?’

He nodded his head at her. ‘Yes, actually, I am. Now who wants more coffee?’ Roy heard the phone ring through a fitful sleep. He sat up in the chair, not sure for a moment exactly where he was. He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Four-fifteen. The television showed an old black and white film. He dragged himself over to the phone.

‘Yeah?’

‘Roy? Roy Ryan?’

The clipped voice was familiar.

‘Yeah. Who’s this?’ ‘It’s Jackson. DI Jackson.’

‘Well, what do you want?’ Roy had never liked Jackson.

‘William Templeton was brought in earlier and he’s shouting his mouth off about your sister and other things. I thought you ought to know.’

The line went dead and Roy stared at it for a few

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moments, letting the words sink in. Then he dialled Michael’s flat. Maura answered. —m

‘Maws? I just had a call from Jackson. Willy’s been nicked and he’s telling them anything they want to know.’

‘OK, Roy. Thanks.’

‘What’s happening, Maws?’

‘At the moment you’re as safe as you possibly can be. After eight o’clock this morning, everything will be fine, I promise you.’

‘But what…’

‘Roy, I’m sorry, mate, but I have to go. Get some sleep. I promise that you’ll be fine. Tell the other boys for me.’ She put the phone down, leaving Roy for the second time in five minutes with a dead phone in his hand. ‘They’ve dragged in William Templeton.’ Maura’s voice was flat. She had hardly thought about him since the trouble had started and yet, not twenty-four hours ago, she had been making love to him.

‘Does he know much?’ Terry was concerned.

‘No. Nothing that they don’t already know. If I know Willy, he’ll be trying to save his own neck. They must have picked him up from my house.’

‘Well, let’s forget him then and concentrate on what the terms are going to be. We haven’t got long now.’ Maura stretched and both men watched the rise and fall of her breasts. She yawned loudly. …

‘Right. Where were we?’ i Chapter Thirty-six Marsh and Ackland were already sick to death of William Templeton and the Home Secretary had been on the phone twice in the last hour. Like everyone else he wanted this ‘little business’, as he put it, cleared up once and for all. Marsh had wondered fleetingly whether the Home Secretary had been up all night as well, because by the annoyed note in his voice Marsh got the impression that the man was tired. Sick and tired, by the sounds of it. As they all were.

The phone on his desk rang and he answered it.

‘What!’ He had lost any remnants of civility at about four in the morning. Now, at eight-fifteen, he had had just about enough.

‘Detective Inspector Petherick is here to see you, sir. I told him that you were not to be disturbed but he insisted that you would see him.’

The WPC’s voice was petrified. She had already been bawled out twice by Marsh already, and she had only come on duty at seven o’clock.

‘Send him up, girl! Send the bugger up!’

Marsh slammed the phone into its cradle. ‘It’s Petherick … the little scumbag!’

William Templeton stared at the two policemen. Marsh snapped at him, ‘Go into the other office, you. And keep your mouth shut!’

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William walked through the connecting door and sat down. He was tired and hungry and scared. From what he could gather, they knew all about him and his royal connections were not going to help him at all. He sat in the uncomfortable chair and put his head in his hands.

Terry walked into Marsh’s office with his head held high and a confident stride. Under his arm was a blue cardboard folder. He could feel Ackland measuring him up.

‘Well, well, well… if it isn’t the laughing policeman.’

Marsh’s voice dripped sarcasm.

Terry sat in the chair vacated by Templeton.

‘It seems to me that I’m the only policeman in England who actually has something to laugh at. I know for a fact that you don’t.’

Marsh screwed up his eyes. This was not the man he had seen previously. This was a man with a secret, an important secret, and one who knew how to use it. i

‘What happened to you? Where did you go?’

Terry looked at Ackland.

‘I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you is, Maura Ryan is willing to do a deal.’

‘A what?’ Marsh’s voice bounced off the plasterboard walls. ‘A deal.’ Terry threw the folder on to the desk. ‘In there is information. More than was in Geoffrey Ryan’s file, I might add. There are copies of this information with numerous different people. I am here to talk business with you, gentlemen. And the Home Secretary, if he hasn’t already been informed.’

Terry relaxed into his chair. He was enjoying this which was the last thing he’d expected. He watched Ackland pick up the file and flick through the papers.

‘And what kind of a deal were you looking for?’

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Ackland’s voice was resigned, as if he had expected something like this.

‘Maura Ryan wants to be left alone. She and her brothers. She wants to keep her holdings in docklands, which are perfectly legal, and to run her clubs as before.’ ‘And what will she give us in return?’ Terry smiled at Ackland. ‘In return she won’t open her mouth about any of this.’ He pointed to the file that Ackland was holding. ‘And she will return the gold bullion that went missing in eighty-five. She also gives you her word that she will only deal with legitimate operations in all her future business investments.’

‘And you honestly think she’ll get away with this?’ Marsh was practically foaming at the mouth. Terry nodded. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Your career is finished, my boy!’

Terry laughed. ‘Oh, shut up, Marsh, for God’s sake. You sound like something from “Dixon of Dock Green”. This whole place …’ he waved his arm ‘… is rotten, mate. Rotten to the bloody core. Of course my career is over. It was over before it began. Because if you read those files carefully, Maura’s and Geoffrey’s, the only people to get any kind of real promotion were those on the bloody take!’

Ackland sighed.

‘So you know where Maura Ryan is, I take it?’

‘Yeah, I know. And I’ll never tell you, so you’d better think again if you’re going to try and kick it out of me.’

Terry stood up. ‘I’m warning you both now. Copies of those files have been faxed to two other countries. They were sent hours ago to reliable people. If so much as one hair of Maura Ryan’s head is harmed they go straight to the tabloids. The Ryans own a bit more than you think. They own journalists and newspaper editors, with more than a few television newspeople thrown in. Not just in England but in the States and in Europe. Maura Ryan is willing to retire gracefully and just carry on with her legitimate holdings. Think about it carefully, gentlemen. She is not a woman to cross, believe me.’

Ackland raised his hand to silence Marsh who looked as if he was going to have a coronary at any moment.

‘I’ll have to speak to my superiors before anything can be decided.’

‘Fair enough.’ Terry glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll be in contact in four hours. At twelve-thirty.’

‘You won’t get away with this, Petherick. I’ll get you personally.’ Marsh’s voice dripped with venom.

Terry leant on the desk, both palms flat, and looked into Marsh’s sharp-featured face.

‘You’ll get me, will you? Funny how you don’t want to get the others, the ones on the take. The big developers and the MPs and the Chief Super that you work for. Does he know that he’s been tumbled yet? That his holidays in Kenya and the Maldives are over? That his little scams have all been found out? Does he know that the Ryans even have the name of the prostitute he visits every Wednesday night? The one who ties him up and spanks him?