East End Trouble (8 page)

T
he following morning
, Brian Moore turned up at the warehouse shaking in his boots. He knew Dave Carter was not going to be happy. He had kept a low profile last night in the hope that it would give Dave a chance to cool down.

He cringed every time he remembered what had happened last night at The Three Grapes. It all started to go wrong when Gary thought he should act like they were in the Wild West and decided to shoot a load of bullets into the ceiling. Bloody idiot. They couldn’t see a thing after he’d shot out the lights.

To be honest, Brian had had a bad feeling about the raid from the get go.

He didn’t like the way Dave was giving his brother more important roles in the company. As far as Brian was concerned, the man was a nutter and should have been certified.

As soon as Brian had got his first glimpse of Red-haired Freddie, he had scarpered. It was obvious the whole thing had been a setup. He hadn’t even waited to see if Gary followed him. He heard footsteps and had assumed that both Gary and Charlie had made their way out. But then last night, he’d heard through the grapevine that Charlie had been shot and was now in hospital at death’s door.

Brian ran a hand through his thinning hair. Dave Carter was definitely not going to be pleased.

As he walked inside the warehouse, he saw a couple of the day boys at the other end of the cavernous room, stacking boxes.

“Alright boys,” Brian said and tried to sound cheerful even though he didn’t feel it.

He got a few nods in the way of a greeting, but nobody replied. He glanced in the direction of Dave’s office. The door was shut. That wasn’t a good sign.

Brian ran his hand through his hair again, trying to smooth it down and knocked on the door.

There was a hesitation before Dave said, “Come in.”

Brian couldn’t hear anything different in Dave’s voice. He was a softly spoken man normally, and he didn’t sound particularly agitated. Brian tried to convince himself that this was a good sign as he opened the door.

Dave stood up behind his desk and nodded at Brian. He was dressed as he usually was — quite casually. He wore loose trousers, a shirt and tie but with a brown jumper over them. Dave Carter didn’t look like a typical gangster. He didn’t even look like a typical businessman. He seemed far more suited to working behind the counter of a hardware store or greengrocers.

His appearance had lulled many of his enemies into a false sense of security. But Brian had known him a long time and knew that in Dave Carter’s case, appearances were deceptive.

His boss’s face was bland and impassive. Brian searched it for clues to his mood, but it was no good. Dave kept his cards close to his chest. He always did.

“Hello, boss.”

“I hear it didn’t go well last night,” Dave said, walking around his desk to come and stand in front of Brian.

Brian swallowed hard, then said, “It was a disaster, boss. They were already there. Lying in wait.”

“The question is, Brian, how did they know we would be coming last night?”

“No idea,” Brian stammered. His legs were feeling like jelly, and he wished Dave would invite him to sit down.

Dave jangled the keys in his pocket and paced the floor before looking back at Brian. “There were three of you. You, Charlie and Gary. There were only two of them, so how did they gain the upper hand?”

Dave’s voice was soft, but Brian could hear the steel beneath.

“They had the element of surprise. And it didn’t help matters when Gary shot the lights out. We couldn’t see a bleeding thing.” Brian licked his lips nervously. “Have you seen Gary yet?”

Dave turned away and continued to pace the floor. “I’m extremely disappointed along with you,” he said. “Charlie is in the hospital. The Old Bill have already been around to talk to him. It’s possible they might come and talk to you as well, Brian. I trust you know what to do.”

“Of course.” Brian nodded frantically. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, boss. You can rely on me.”

Personally, Brian thought it very unfair that he was getting the blame. If Gary hadn’t been such a bloody fool, none of this would have happened. But he didn’t feel brave enough to tell Dave Carter just what he thought of his brother.

Dave was quiet for so long, Brian began to sweat. They had screwed up big time, and Dave wasn’t likely to let them get away with it scot-free.

“How is Charlie doing, boss? Is he going to be all right?”

“Looks like it. No thanks to you for running off and leaving him there.”

Brian opened and shut his mouth like a goldfish. He wanted to protest his innocence, but he knew he couldn’t. Dave was right he had run off and left for Charlie to face the music alone. He had wrongly assumed that Charlie had made his escape and followed him out.

Brian looked down at the floor. If it hadn’t been for bloody Gary, none of this would have happened.

“All right, Brian, you can go now. I don’t want to see your ugly mug right now. It just reminds me of the monumental cock-up you made last night. There will be trouble ahead, so keep your head down. Do you understand me?”

Brian nodded miserably and headed for the door.

A
fter Brian had left
, Dave sighed went back to sit behind his desk. Brian had merely confirmed his own suspicions. This whole mess could be laid firmly at his brother’s door. Gary was becoming a liability.

Dave had always considered family important. He adored his wife Sandra and their children, Trevor and Lillian, and he’d always treated his brother well in the past. He’d given him handouts, a reliable wage, but Gary just accepted all that as if it was his birthright.

Dave shook his head. He was going to have to do something about it.

Gary just couldn’t be trusted any more.

He’d been going through the books and his accounts before Brian had arrived. Profits were up, and things were looking good with the business. The intelligent thing for Dave to do would be to ignore this feud with Martin Morton and keep his distance.

There was more than enough money making enterprises in the East End to keep them both happy. But unfortunately, the game wasn’t played like that. If Dave let this thing with Martin Morton go on much longer, it would make him look weak.

He only had one option, and that was to end Martin Morton for good.

Dave closed the account book in front of him. He wouldn’t be able to do it straight away. Morton would be expecting retribution. He’d be on his guard. But violence wasn’t always the answer. Dave knew you could get a lot further in this world by using your head rather than using your fists. But Martin didn’t know that. He wanted to play the big man and acted like he was ready for the big leagues, but he didn’t have the staying power. Martin Morton was all about image.

He loved to wear sharp suits and had his hair slicked back and styled in the latest fashion. With the old scar that ran down his cheek, he really did fit the image of a gangster. But it was an illusion. He had a tough outward appearance, but inside Martin wasn’t hard. He was made of jelly and scared to death of anyone finding that out.

In Dave’s experience, the men who deep down were scared little boys were the most violent, always trying to cover up the terror they felt inside. But that wasn’t Dave’s problem. He didn’t care about Martin Morton’s insecurities. He just needed to wipe Morton’s sticky fingerprints off the face of the East End.

But before he did that, he had more important things to be getting on with. Namely, making sure Charlie Williams didn’t spill his guts, and then he had to deal with his brother, Gary. It had been a long time coming.

“
O
h
, my poor baby,” Doris Williams wailed as she trotted up to Charlie’s bedside in the middle of the hospital ward. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry since I heard. I haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep all night.”

Charlie, who had been having a nice doze and dreaming about the pretty nurse he had developed quite a crush on, blinked his eyes opened. “Mum!”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s your poor old mother. Did you not think to try to telephone me and let me know what was going on? I’ve been worried sick.”

Charlie rubbed his forehead. He was developing a headache that seemed to be directly related to the pitch of his mother’s voice.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I lost a lot of blood. I wasn’t in the position to phone anyone last night.”

Doris Simpson gave her son a scathing look as though she believed getting shot was just an excuse and a pathetic one at that.

She slapped Charlie’s arm. “You silly little bugger! What did you go and get shot for? Did I not bring you up right?”

Charlie stared at his mother. What on earth was the old girl on about? He hadn’t exactly been trying to get shot.

“It wasn’t my fault, Mum. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was sitting there having a quiet drink, minding my own business when some crazy bastard came in waving a gun about.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” Doris said, smacking Charlie over the head.

“Ow, Mum, pack it in!”

“So what should I do now? There’s a copper waiting outside. I suppose that’s for you, isn’t it? What kind of trouble have you got yourself into now, Charlie? Honestly, your father will be turning in his grave.”

Charlie didn’t think so. His father had been a small-time crook who’d sold stolen goods out of a battered old leather suitcase. He thought his dad would be rather proud of how Charlie had progressed in the world. He’d be pleased to know Dave Carter had taken his son under his wing.

“I know you’re worried, Mum, but I’ll be fine.”

“Really? And what am I supposed to do if you get banged up? Who’s going to look after me when my rheumatism gets bad if you’re inside, eh?”

Charlie shivered. “It won’t come to that,” he said and hoped that it wouldn’t.

They both heard footsteps and turned to see Dave Carter himself strolling into the ward. He looked like a normal visitor as he walked in and smiled at the nurses by the desk.

“Oh, I’m afraid we can only permit one visitor at a time,” the stern sister said.

Charlie scowled. She’d been giving him a hard time ever since he’d been admitted.

Dave smiled at her and murmured a few words. Charlie couldn’t hear what he said, but it seemed to work like a charm, and Dave left the ward sister blushing and giggling like a teenager.

As he approached the bed, Charlie struggled to sit up.

Dave held his hand out. “Hello, Charlie. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

Charlie tried to gather his wits about him. He hadn’t expected Dave Carter to come and see him in person. He shot a glance at his mother, who fortunately seemed to have been stunned into silence. Charlie thanked his lucky stars.

“I’m sorry we messed up, boss,” Charlie said in a whisper. He didn’t really want to talk about this in front of his mother.

“I brought you a bag of grapes.” Dave put the brown paper bag on the bedside table.

“Mum, I don’t suppose you could ask one of the nurses if I could have a glass of water, and I could do with an extra pillow? My back is killing me.”

Doris Williams pursed her lips, but she nodded and reluctantly left the two men alone to talk.

“There was nothing I could do,” Charlie said, twisting his fingers nervously in the bedsheets. “The lights went out, and then all of a sudden, Martin Morton’s men were there.”

“And they were definitely Morton’s men?” Dave asked, his eyes fixed on Charlie’s face.

“It was dark, but I saw Red-haired Freddie clear as anything. It was him, no doubt about it.”

Charlie wanted to tell Dave about his coward of a brother running off and leaving him to face Morton’s men alone, but he wasn’t sure how Dave would react.

“And Brian and Gary, they both left you there? You were there alone?” Dave asked as if he could read Charlie’s mind.

Charlie didn’t like where this was headed. Was Dave going to blame him for messing everything up?

Charlie nodded slowly.

Dave looked down at him. “They knew you’d been shot, and they ran away anyway?”

Sod them, Charlie thought. He wasn’t about to accept the blame for this mess. “Gary saw me. I told him I’d been shot and asked him to help, but he ran away. I don’t know about Brian. I didn’t see him after we’d entered the room. Gary shot out the lights.”

Dave nodded slowly. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to handle this honourably, Charlie.”

“Of course,” Charlie said. “I’ve told the police I was shot by a mugger, in the alleyway where they found me.” He leaned a little closer so that the man in the bed next door couldn’t hear. Charlie could practically see the old bugger’s ears waggling. “They’ve already asked me about The Three Grapes, though, Dave. I might be going down, but I won’t sell you out. You can trust me.”

Dave smiled and laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Do you know, Charlie, I believe that I can. You are one of the few that I really do trust. I don’t think you’ll let me down.”

Before Charlie could respond, his mother was marching up to the bed, escorted by a nurse, carrying an extra pillow. Doris yanked Charlie forward as the nurse placed the pillow behind his shoulders.

Charlie thanked the nurse and then turned back to Dave, but before he could continue the conversation, Doris piped up. “Of course, I don’t know what I’ll do if my poor boy gets locked away. I barely get by as it is. I need the money he gives me every week.” She fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief and pretended to dab her eyes.

Dave’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Charlie’s one of mine,” he said. “And he won’t go without. I’ll make sure you’re all right, Mrs. Williams.”

Dave winked at her, and Charlie’s mother sat down in the chair beside Charlie’s bed, grinning like a cat who’d got the cream.

Charlie was glad someone was happy. His leg was bleeding killing him, and he knew he was due another visit from the coppers later that day. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to that.

At least, he knew Dave Carter had his back, and that counted for a lot. He wondered what would happen to Gary, and a small part of him hoped that Dave would punish him severely. He wasn’t sure he would ever forgive the fact that Gary had run away and left him to die, bleeding on the floor of The Three Grapes.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Dave said. “It was lovely to see you again, Mrs. Williams.”

Dave smiled, and Charlie’s mother’s grinned happily. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Carter,” she said.