The Victim (41 page)

‘Ring Dad and pass me the phone,’ he ordered Billy.

‘All right, boy. I was just saying to Mickey, I think Mitchell could be heading to his salvage yard. I bet the prick keeps his guns there, unless they’ve already got shooters on ’em, or Frankie’s living over that way.’

‘Do you reckon they know we’re following ’em? Me and Bill don’t.’

‘I should imagine so. Mitchell might be a lot of things, but he’s no dinlo, boy. What I suggest we do is catch right up with him now. He’s bound to stop somewhere soon and when he does, we’ll be ready. We don’t want the chavvies involved, so we get them out the back and get Billy to drive ’em straight back to Glasgow. I’ve rang your mum and she’s OK now, she just wants us all home safe and sound. We’re gonna have to move off the site though; I’ve already made a few phone calls and sorted us somewhere.’

‘Why we gotta move? Surely if we finish off the cunts tonight, we’re safe where we are?’

‘Your mother wants to move, says we don’t know who else the Mitchells have involved. I think she’s right. The quicker we get out of Glasgow, the better.’

‘Fuck all this talk about moving. What I wanna know is how we’re gonna play this. We know Eddie and Raymond are definitely in the van and you can bet his cunting sons are with him, and probably some other mug that works for him. I don’t just wanna blast ’em all away. Let’s kill any deadwood, and then torture Eddie,’ Jed suggested.

Jimmy chuckled. He and Eddie Mitchell had been at loggerheads since 1970 and he certainly wanted to give him the most agonising death possible, but there wasn’t the time to torture him properly. ‘I dunno if we’ll have time to arse about, Jed. We’ll make sure we send him out in a bit of style though, I promise. Now catch up with us ’cause we’re just approaching the A13.’

When Jed started to laugh manically, Billy looked at him as though he had lost his marbles. Unlike his brother, he was shit-scared over what was about to happen and he couldn’t work Jed’s mind out at times. ‘What’s a matter? What you laughing at?’

‘When Mitchell’s gasping for his last breath, I’ve got a big surprise for him and Dad.’

‘What?’

‘I’m gonna tell both of ’em who killed Harry Mitchell.’

‘What, you gonna make something up?’ Billy asked confused.

‘No, I’m gonna tell the truth. It was me that killed the old cunt and I can barely wait to break the good news.’

* * *

Eddie Mitchell’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen as they approached his salvage yard. He’d wanted Jimmy O’Hara dead for as long as he could remember and now he finally had the chance to do something about it. ‘Let me take Jimmy out. Gal, Raymondo, yous two make sure Jed cops it, then go for whoever else is with ’em. Ricky, you get the guns. Right, lads, get your hands on that door handle ’cause we’re pulling up in less than a minute or so.’

Ed had rung Big Pete, who managed the yard for him, hours earlier. The gates were made of wire mesh, and Ed had told him to just pull them to and put the chain or padlocks on one gate. ‘I’ve lost me key and need to drop a hooky motor off later,’ Ed had lied.

‘Right, hold tight, in case Pete’s fucked up and we smash ourselves to pieces,’ Eddie said, as Raymond put his foot full on the accelerator.

When the gates flew open and the van screeched to a halt, Eddie yelled his adrenalin-filled orders. ‘Go, go, go!’

CHAPTER FORTY

When Jimmy and Jed both screeched to a halt, all hell immediately broke loose. Baseball bats, knives, even a hammer was used in the tussle that followed.

‘Grab the fucking gun, Ray,’ Eddie screamed, as he managed to knock the sawn-off out of Jimmy’s hand.

About to comply with his boss’s orders, Raymond was whacked over the head with a hammer by Mickey Maloney and fell to the ground in a heap.

Jed picked the gun up and immediately fired two shots. He’d spotted Ricky running towards the left-hand side of the yard and guessed he was up to no good. ‘Gotcha, you shitcunt,’ he said, as Ricky’s body hit the ground with a dramatic thud.

‘Jed, help me. I’ve been stabbed,’ Billy pleaded.

Jed glanced at his brother, saw no blood, so turned his attention to Ricky instead. ‘Let me sort these cunts out; I need to check they ain’t got phones on ’em. I’ll be back in a minute, Bill,’ he promised.

Gary was running towards where Ricky had taken a tumble. ‘You ain’t going nowhere, cunt,’ Jed shouted, as he took a couple of pot shots at Gary as well.

‘Fuck,’ Gary screamed in agony, clutching the back of his right leg as he fell to the floor.

Jed took Gary’s mobile out of his pocket, smirked, then ran over to Eddie’s van. He flung open the back doors, fully expecting an emotional reconciliation with his children and was shell-shocked to find that, apart from four sports bags and some rope, the van was empty.

‘You fucking cunt. Where are my chavvies?’ Jed shrieked as he ran over to where Eddie Mitchell lay.

Eddie was in agony. Between them, Jimmy and Mickey had managed to overpower him somehow and not only had they twisted his right arm until it had broken, they’d also smashed him across both kneecaps with a hammer.

‘I said, where are my fucking chavvies?’ Jed repeated, his eyes bulging with anger.

As ill as he felt, Eddie had never been a man to disclose important information. ‘Somewhere where you’ll never find ’em,’ he spat.

‘This is all your fault. I told you not to let him out of your sight, didn’t I?’ Jed shouted at his father. He was almost crying with rage, and aimed a kick at Eddie’s head.

Jimmy hung his head in shame. If only he had known that the tear-up would take place at the salvage yard, he’d have driven into that poxy garage. He’d been worried it might all go off in a public street where neighbours might be able to give a description of him, and he hadn’t wanted to be caught on any cameras, just in case. He could just imagine an image of him on the garage forecourt ending up in the papers or on the news. The police had never looked very hard to find the children, but they’d look for him if he was wanted for murder, Jimmy was sure of that.

He put a comforting arm around his son’s shoulder. When they’d left Essex, he had never kept in touch with any of his old pals from the manor because they were on the run. He’d known Pat Murphy most of his life, and how he now wished that he’d kept in contact with him. He would have known where Eddie lived and he could probably have given him Frankie’s address as well.

‘I’m gonna fucking kill him, Dad,’ Jed yelled, pointing the gun at Eddie once more.

‘Keep an eye on him, Mick, while me and Jed check on the others,’ Jimmy instructed, leading his son away.

‘On my Shelby girl’s life, if that shitcunt don’t give me an address in the next five minutes, I’m gonna blow his brains out,’ Jed spat.

‘Give me that gun,’ Jimmy ordered.

Jed shook his head, so Jimmy slapped him hard around the face to knock some sense into him.

‘Killing Eddie at this point ain’t gonna get you them chavvies back, you dinlo. Now pull yourself together. Let’s get everybody tied up and we’ll torture the answers out of ’em. Now, where’s Billy?’

Jed felt a pang of guilt as he remembered his brother had said he’d been stabbed. ‘I dunno. It’s proper fucking dark now,’ he lied.

Jimmy ran to his motor and grabbed his torch and some rope. ‘Jed, over there. Look, one of the bastards is getting away,’ he said, spotting Gary moving towards the far end of the yard.

Gary was only seconds away from where the guns were kept when Jed tussled him to the ground. His right leg was bleeding profusely, but even though he couldn’t put his foot to the floor, he’d still managed to drag himself towards the newly built toilet where the shooters were kept. He’d found Ricky lying in a puddle of oil on his travels. His brother was still alive, but had been shot in the back and looked in a really bad way.

‘Where were ya going?’ Jed asked Gary, with a menacing expression on his face. He knew he wasn’t heading towards the exit, and Jed’s guess was he was trying to retrieve a gun from somewhere.

Instead of pointing towards the toilet, Gary pointed to the big building on the left-hand side of it. It was an old warehouse that was now part of the salvage yard and it was where all the tyres were kept.

‘Got guns in there, have ya?’ Jed snarled.

‘Nah, I was gonna see if there was a phone in there,’ Gary lied.

‘Jed, get back down this end, boy. Your brother’s in trouble, I think. We might have to get him to a hospital,’ Jimmy shouted out.

Kneeing Gary as hard as he could in the proverbials to ensure he wouldn’t move again for the foreseeable future, Jed legged it down to the other end of the yard. He paused as he saw Ricky lying face down on the ground and, unable to stop himself, gave him a sharp kick in the side of his head. He then checked on Raymond, who was still out for the count, before he ran back to his father.

‘There’s hardly any blood. He’ll live,’ Jed said, as he inspected the two small gashes on his brother’s stomach.

‘He don’t look good, boy. Keeps shutting his eyes and talking rubbish like he’s delirious. He might have internal bleeding or something. Mickey’s gonna have to take him to A&E in case it’s bad,’ Jimmy said anxiously.

‘And what’s he meant to say when he gets there?’

‘Mickey’ll have to say he got stabbed in a fight and tell the nurses his name’s Billy Smith. He can tell ’em he’s a traveller and give ’em the name of the site in Tilbury. If the Old Bill are called, Mickey’ll have to give a false name an’ all.’

Jed nodded. ‘Get Mickey to drop him at Basildon Hospital then, the further away from ’ere the better. There’s a building down there on the left, looks like a warehouse. Let’s tie the others up, drag them in there and torture some answers out of ’em. As soon as we get the truth, we’ll kill ’em all.’

‘Jimmy, Jimmy!’ Mickey yelled.

Jimmy and Jed ran over to their pal. Eddie Mitchell had his left hand around Mickey Maloney’s throat and was doing his best to strangle him.

Seeing a baseball bat lying nearby, Jed picked it up and smashed Eddie over the back of the head with it. ‘Give me that rope, Dad. Let’s tie this piece of shit up first,’ he said as Eddie fell helplessly to the ground.

‘I’ll tie him up,’ Jimmy said. He was worried his son would go too far and actually kill Mitchell before they got the information they needed.

Eddie Mitchell was a man who had too much pride to have ever considered defeat in the past, but as Jimmy smashed his mobile phone, then tied the thick rope around his hands, he feared the worst for the first time ever. Images of Gina, Rosie and Aaron flashed through his mind and he felt like fucking crying. He’d wanted to ring his family earlier, tell them how much he loved them, but Gary had stopped him from doing so. Now he would probably never have the chance to speak to them ever again.

* * *

Frankie smiled at Georgie as Harry wolfed the last of the chicken sandwiches. When Georgie was young she’d had strange eating habits, gorging on food for days then starving herself. Seeing Harry eat a whole tray of sandwiches by himself, Frankie wondered if her son was of the same mould.

‘Are you still not hungry, Georgie? You should really eat something. Do you remember when you was a little girl you used to be addicted to them Heinz bangers and beans? I’ve got some in the cupboard. Shall I get Joey to open a tin for you?’

‘I ain’t a little girl no more and if I say I ain’t hungry then I ain’t. I’ve got a boyfriend who I’m gonna marry as soon as I’m sixteen, I’m a grown-up now.’

Frankie was appalled, but tried not to show it. At least Georgie was talking to her now. Her children’s accents were absolutely awful. They sounded just like their father and the way they pronounced their words and some of the things they said brought back terrible memories of her time with Jed.

‘So what’s your boyfriend’s name? Is he the same age as you?’ Frankie asked pleasantly.

‘His name’s Ryan and he’s fifteen. I really love him and he loves me. Look, he bought me this,’ Georgie said, flashing the eternity ring her boyfriend had given her for her birthday.

Frankie felt sick as she stared at the ring. When she had last seen Georgie, she’d been an adventurous, fun-loving, four-year-old girl. Now she had massive breasts, a gypsy accent and was discussing her bloody wedding. Wishing more than ever that she had succeeded when she’d tried to kill Jed that time, Frankie forced herself to smile. ‘Is Ryan a travelling boy?’

‘Yeah! I would never marry him if he weren’t. All gorjers are scum; Nanny Alice and Dad taught me that.’

‘And what about you Harry, have you got a girlfriend yet?’ Frankie asked, trying to include her son in the awkward conversation.

‘Mind your own business,’ Harry replied, glaring at her.

Frankie had sadness etched across her face as she stared at both of her children. In all honesty, Georgie had always had a slight wild streak in her. When she was young she used to have a habit of running away and she had never been able to suffer the confinement of a classroom when she’d started school. Georgie looked like her father, had his mannerisms, and Frankie knew she only had herself to blame for that.

‘Can we go home now? You can’t make us stay ’ere,’ Harry said bluntly.

Feeling her eyes well up again, Frankie bit her lip to stop herself from crying. The change in her beautiful, loving, timid son was the one thing that was literally breaking her heart in two. Gone was the happy, fresh-faced, polite little boy whose smile could light up a room. In his place was a sullen, dirty, scruffy lad who had an attitude problem, terrible language and front teeth missing.

‘So, what hobbies have you both got?’ Frankie asked awkwardly. She felt as if she was conducting an interview with two complete strangers.

‘I like shopping for clothes and I like music. Harry likes quad bikes and thieving,’ Georgie responded, nudging her brother.

‘You like drinking cider and playing with Ryan’s cory,’ Harry chuckled, joining in with the fun.

Unable to stand one minute more in the same room as her children, Frankie let out a stifled sob and bolted.

Jimmy and Jed led Eddie to the warehouse where the tyres were kept, and laughed as they pushed him violently onto the concrete floor.

‘Tie his legs up while I bring the next one in,’ Jimmy ordered his son. Mickey had now taken Billy to the hospital and Jimmy insisted that his son wasn’t to be left alone until the extent of his injuries were known.

‘If he were to die, I don’t want him dying alone, Mick,’ Jimmy had told his friend.

Jed picked up the rope and smirked at Eddie. ‘What’s it feel like, knowing you’re gonna die soon?’

Aware that Mickey had taken Billy to hospital, Eddie knew, with Jimmy outside, this might be his last chance to get to the guns. He waited until Jed bent down to tie his feet up then, with all his might, kicked him full in the face with his right foot. Jed flew backwards, clutching his chin and cursing.

‘You fucking wanker,’ he mumbled, as he stood up and spat out a mouthful of blood. Eddie’s kick had caught him completely by surprise, so much so that his teeth had nearly severed the end of his tongue.

Aware that Jed was in shock, Eddie leaned his back against the wall and tried to heave himself up by crawling up against it. He needed to get outside to see if one of his lads was in a fit state to untie his hands.

In excrutiating pain, Jed put his hand inside his mouth. The tip of his tongue was literally hanging there by a thread. Aware that Eddie was back-crawling up the wall, Jed forgot about his own predicament, and grabbed the hammer.

‘You ain’t going nowhere you fucking piece of shit!’ he screamed as he repeatedly smashed it against Eddie’s legs. When Ed fell to the floor, Jed ran over to where the tyres were kept. He picked up one that was attached to an alloy wheel and ran back over to where Eddie lay. ‘Tell me where my chavvies are, you cunt,’ he slurred, repeatedly smashing the wheel against Eddie’s left leg. The injury to his tongue was stopping him from pronouncing his words properly.

Eddie winced as he felt his shin snap in two, but he still didn’t groan or utter a word. The O’Haras might be capable of breaking his arms and legs, but they would never break his spirit.

Joey held his inconsolable sister in his arms.

‘Can yous two sit in the front room and keep an eye on the kids while I have a chat with Frankie?’ Joey asked Dominic and Babs.

Dom and Babs both nodded and Joey shut the kitchen door. He opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.

‘What the hell am I gonna do, Joey? They’ve changed so much I don’t even feel like their mother any more. I knew they would have been brought up badly, but they’re worse than my wildest dreams. I don’t like either of ’em, especially Harry – I think he’s horrible. What type of mother does that make me, eh?’ Frankie sobbed.