Black Widow (35 page)

They’d have killed her too.

Annie straightened. ‘Goodbye, Jeanette,’ she said, and walked out of the kitchen and to the front door.

Constantine’s man was there.

The kids were in the car, with Constantine.

Annie looked at the man, looked back along the hall.

‘Do it,’ she said.

Annie knew she would never forget the expression on Kath’s face when she knocked on her door with little Mo in her arms and Jimmy Junior at her side. Kath burst into tears at the sight of her children, taking the baby tenderly into her arms after hugging little Jim until he protested and ran off inside.

Seeing the three of them reunited, Annie knew she couldn’t doubt the depth of Kath’s love for her kids. Now that Jimmy Bond was off the scene, Annie hoped that Kath would find the strength to get a grip. She was going to help Kath any way she could, she promised herself that. For a start she was going to get Ellie back to help out.

‘I don’t know what to say. After everything that’s gone on between us, and you do this for me?’ Kath said, tears spilling down over her chubby cheeks, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she looked at Annie over the baby’s head.

Then her eyes clouded. ‘He’ll take them away again. He’ll come back and take them off me again…’ she wailed.

‘Jimmy’s gone, Kath. He won’t be back.’

Unless it’s in a box
, she thought grimly.

‘What about Layla? What happened about Layla?’ asked Kath a little more calmly.

Annie looked into Kath’s eyes and wondered—just for a second—if Kath could have known anything about the hit. But no. Kath might carp at her, might call her a tart and a treacherous bitch, but what Kath would
never
do was betray her family.

‘I’ve got her back,’ said Annie.

‘She okay?’ Kath’s eyes were anxious.

‘She’s fine.’

‘I’m glad,’ said Kath. ‘Come on, got something to show you.’

Still hugging the baby close, and with Jimmy Junior trotting at her heels, Kath showed Annie upstairs to where Jimmy had kept his stash under the loose floorboard beside the bed. When they lifted the board out, the space underneath was empty. Jimmy had obviously cleared out any cash before he left.

‘He used to keep loads of money in there. Hundreds.
Thousands.’

Yeah
, thought Annie.
The firm’s money. My money.

This explained a lot. No wonder Jimmy hit the roof when Ellie arrived on the scene. No wonder Kath had panicked and kicked Ellie out when she had said she was going to start on the upstairs rooms. If Ellie had found the hiding place, and reported back to Annie, the shit would have hit the fan in a big way.

Just keep running, Jimmy Bond
, thought Annie as she left Kath there with her kids and went back outside into the refreshing spring rain.
Keep running you bastard—but I’m going to find you.

But Kath came running after her and stopped her at the door. She was holding out a piece of paper.

Annie paused, and took it. Kath was still beaming, incandescent with joy, flushed with it. Annie saw in her face a glimmer of the girl she had once been—funny, friendly, confident. She wanted to see that girl again, but this time as a woman, the woman Kath
should
have become.

‘What is it?’ Annie asked her curiously.

‘Ruthie’s phone number,’ said Kath with a grin.

Two weeks later, Annie granted Darren his dying wish. A gleaming pair of black horses pulled a glass-sided hearse bearing his flower-strewn coffin through the streets of the East End. The funeral director stepped gravely ahead of the horses, his highly polished black top hat tucked neatly beneath his arm as he walked at a stately pace ahead of the cortège.

The pavements on either side of the roads down which the funeral procession passed were packed with silent, respectful mourners and, as the hearse passed by, everyone bowed their heads. The word had gone out: Annie had squared it with Redmond Delaney. Even though it was taking place on Delaney turf, this was a Carter funeral; the man they were burying today was a friend of Annie Carter’s, and respect was due.

Dressed head to toe in black, Annie Carter
walked with Dolly, Ellie, Aretha, Chris, and Ross behind the hearse. She’d left Layla with Kath, and she was pleased to see that already Kath was making changes, tidying up, taking more pride in her appearance.

Darren had no family, or at least no family that he had ever cared to acknowledge—although Dolly had contacted his parents and told them the funeral was today, they hadn’t shown up. So for today he belonged to the Carter family, he was one of their own, and Annie was proud to give him the send-off he deserved.

Darren would have loved this
, she thought.

Thinking of Darren choked her up, but there was love and humour there along with the sadness. She felt such admiration for the way he had risked himself to save Layla, such gratitude for the sacrifice he had made, and overwhelming anger at those bastards who had taken him away from them.

But he had been dying, she told herself. Darren had chosen his route out of this world, and truthfully they all knew it was a better route than the one that would have awaited him if nature had been allowed to take its course.

So for today she had to be at peace with this. And today she felt, as the sun broke through the clouds and shone down upon the procession as it wound its way into the churchyard, that she was burying more than Darren. She felt that today she
was also saying goodbye to Rufio, and Inez, and even to loutish Jonjo and—yes—even to Max.

She felt that she had come a long way and gone through fire and fury to get to this place. And now it was time to say goodbye. Time to let it all go, and move on with her life.

All through the service she thought about what that might mean. So much crap had gone down recently and it had taken time for it all to settle. But settle it had. Kath was one hundred per cent better off without that toerag Jimmy. Annie knew that for a fact. She still had scores to settle with him, but that would come. Constantine had put the word out that Jimmy was to be found. Jimmy Bond was toast. He just didn’t know it yet.

So everything was working out. There was sadness today, but there was also pride and joy. At last the service came to an end and the pallbearers, led by the vicar, carried Darren’s coffin out into the brilliant sunshine outside the church.

The friends stood around the grave and saw Darren buried there with full honours—buried as a hero, a Carter boy, a beloved companion. Annie felt the pangs of soul-eating sadness, but she remained dry-eyed and straight-backed, because everyone from Carter soil was clustered into the graveyard and their eyes were upon her, the boss of the manor, and she was expected to set an example, to behave with dignity and grace.

She threw one single dark-red rose down on to the coffin, along with a silent blessing, then she walked away, out of the graveyard and into the sunshine, and got into Max’s big black Jag—now hers—and told Tony what she had never wanted to tell him. It was time.

There was no way to dress it up. She sat in the back of the car with him in the front and she said: ‘Tone…Max is dead.’

He was silent, watching her in the mirror.

‘Jonjo too,’ she went on. ‘They were hit in Majorca when the Byrne clan snatched Layla. Jimmy Bond was behind the whole thing. He wanted to take over here.’

Tony looked down. Then his eyes lifted and met hers again.

‘I could see it was bad,’ he said. ‘But not as bad as that. I’m sorry, Mrs Carter. Max Carter was the best.’

‘Yeah,’ said Annie with a gulp. ‘He was. Now, the question I have to ask you, Tone, is are you with me? Or are you bailing out?’

Tony stared at her steadily. ‘I’m insulted you gotta ask me that, Mrs Carter.’

Annie smiled a little at that. ‘You’re with me, then?’

‘Yeah. One hundred per cent.’

‘Okay.’ She let out a sigh. ‘Let’s get over to Queenie’s, then. Time to tell the boys.’

The boys were waiting for her. As she came up the stairs and entered the room with the big table and the chairs all around it, they all got to their feet.
Her
boys. Jackie Tulliver, rat-faced little Jackie with a cigar clutched in his nicotine-stained hand, had let them in and followed her and Tony up here.

Annie went to the head of the table—Max’s place, now hers—and looked around at them all. At lanky Gary Tooley, solid, muscular Steve Taylor, Deaf Derek and Benny and the others. All snappy dressers, the Carter boys. Max and his brother Jonjo had set the style of the gang. Immaculate. Dark. Fucking scary.

‘Sit down, boys,’ she said, and took off her black coat.

They sat down, looking expectantly at her. Tony remained standing behind Annie’s chair, arms
folded, face grim. She had told him what she was going to do, and he knew there could be trouble.

‘We was wondering where Jimmy’s got to,’ said Steve, looking hard-eyed at her.

‘And when Jonjo’ll be coming back,’ said Gary, eyes sharp as a shit-house rat’s as he stared at her.

Annie took a breath. ‘Jonjo won’t be coming back,’ she said flatly. She looked down at her hands, clasped together on the tabletop. ‘Neither will Max.’

She looked up at their frozen faces. ‘There was a hit in Majorca. Max and Jonjo were taken out. Jimmy Bond was behind it. He was in with the Byrne family, they did the hit and snatched our daughter and they wanted me to pay half a million quid to get her back.’

Jackie Tulliver let out a low whistle.

‘Holy
fuck
,’ muttered Benny.

There was a thick silence.

Then Steve said: ‘Did you pay it?’

‘I didn’t have it; how the fuck could I pay it? I didn’t know where Max stashed his cash and Jimmy had all but cleaned the firm out by the time I got back here.’

‘You didn’t say a fucking word about this,’ said Gary.

‘I didn’t dare. They had Layla. I had to find a big source of money, fast. And that was Constantine Barolli.’

‘Jesus H Christ in a sidecar,’ breathed Gary, exchanging a look with Steve. ‘Sure, the firm’s done a bit of legit business with him up West and that’s okay, but taking money off the guy? He’s fucking Mafia, you crazy?’

‘I thought so, but then I was desperate enough to risk it. And Jimmy thought so too, but only because he was getting worried because I was calling in the big guns. The first time I asked him to contact Barolli’s mob, he didn’t do it. He said they’d try to take over the manor, but really he was shit-scared they’d mess up his grand plan. I think Jimmy believed I would know where Max kept a large stash of money. I didn’t. I still don’t.’

‘What was his plan?’ asked Deaf Derek with a frown. ‘Jimmy, I mean.’

‘Have the manor all to himself. No Jonjo, no Max. Just him.’

Silence fell in the room.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ said Steve, shaking his dark head. ‘Max
dead?’

‘Yeah,’ said Annie. ‘I know.’

‘Fucking Jonjo too. But they didn’t kill
you,’
said Jackie, eyeing her with a flicker of suspicion.

‘Only because I was more use to them alive. I was the one to provide the money in exchange for my little girl. But I didn’t know where Max’s money was, so I had to go elsewhere to get it, and that’s where their plan started to unravel.’

‘So what the fuck now?’ asked Steve.

Annie took a breath. Her heart was hammering. Her palms were damp with nervous sweat.

‘What the fuck now is this.’ Annie stood up, planted her fists on the table, and looked around at them all. ‘Constantine Barolli’s got the word out for Jimmy. He knows I want him found, so Jimmy’s on borrowed time. I’m taking over here, just as I said. I meant it. So here’s the deal. If you’re with me, that’s fine. That’s good. If you’re not, if you’ve got any doubts about this, or you’re not willing to take orders from a woman, then that’s good too. You can fuck off out of it. Now. This minute. I can get others to take your place.’

Which wasn’t really true, especially not of Gary and Steve. These were staunch, reliable men, and she believed them to be unflinchingly loyal to the firm. She needed them.

‘So.’ She stared around at them. Tony stepped forward and stood at her shoulder, a solid wall of menacing muscle. ‘Who’s with me, and who’s for walking out that fucking door?’ she asked.

Dead silence.

Then finally Gary said, ‘If this is true, all this stuff about Jimmy doing Max and Jonjo, we want to deal with him.’

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from around the table.

‘We will deal with him,’ Annie promised. ‘You
think I ain’t got the bottle for that or something? He had my husband killed and my daughter kidnapped. We’ll deal with him all right.’

Gary and Steve exchanged another look.

‘Then…I reckon we’re with you,’ said Steve.

‘Yeah,’ said Jackie. ‘Me too.’

‘And me,’ said Derek.

‘Yeah,’ said Benny.

Thank fuck for that
, thought Annie.

When she got back to Limehouse they were holding a party for Darren; he’d told them straight—no wakes. And so a bloody party was what they were having. All their best clients were in, enjoying themselves in a strictly non-sexual way—this wasn’t
that
sort of party—swigging champagne and eating nibbles, dancing like nutters to the England World Cup squad singing
Back Home.

At the end of the evening, Dolly got up and a hush fell over the room. Annie sat on the couch with Layla dozing on her lap. Aretha and Ellie were standing by the door, their faces solemn. Aretha patted Ellie on the back. Ellie—poor, two-faced Ellie—would miss Darren the most.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, you all knew Darren,’ said Dolly into the sudden sober silence. ‘He was kind, and gentle, and funny. He was also—and none of us knew this about him until right at the
end of his short life—bloody brave. He was trying to save the life of this little girl right here.’ Dolly indicated Layla. ‘Our Darren had the heart of a lion. So let’s drink a toast to him now. To our dear friend who is now at peace—to Darren.’

A roar of approval went up around the room. Ellie burst into tears, and Aretha hugged her. Dolly swiped away a tear or two.

God bless you, Darren
, thought Annie, hugging Layla’s warm little body closely to hers.

‘Now come on—who wants more champers…?’ And Dolly was off around the room again, and the music restarted—the Stones doing
Honky Tonk Woman
—and suddenly the party was back on.

Just as Darren would have wanted.

Later that night, after Annie had tucked Layla up in Dolly’s bed, she took out the scrap of paper Kath had given her and looked at it.

Ruthie’s number.

The number of the sister she had betrayed, and still missed like a part of herself.

She wondered if she dared ring.

Would Ruthie want to talk to her? She wasn’t sure. And she was—all right she could admit it to herself—terrified of Ruthie rejecting her all over again. She’d been through all that
already, and to open up that particular wound would be more painful than she could stand right now.

Annie sat on the bed in the darkened room, watching her daughter sleep. She found it hard to take her eyes off Layla, even for a moment. She couldn’t believe that she had her back again. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Her nerves felt raw, she had been through too much these last few weeks.

She couldn’t take aggro off Ruthie, not right now. She put the paper back in her pocket.

There was a soft tap at the door.

‘Who is it?’ she hissed.

The door opened a crack and Ross put his head around it. She still wasn’t his favourite person, but Layla’s presence had thawed him, just a bit. He clearly loved kids.

‘Phone for you,’ he said.

Annie’s heart clenched. It was very late. Was there trouble? Kath…?

She followed Ross downstairs and picked up the receiver. It was Steve Taylor.

‘We caught up with the tart,’ he said bluntly.

Una.

‘You want to know the details?’ he asked.

‘No. So long as it’s sorted.’

‘It’s sorted.’

Annie heaved a sigh of deep satisfaction. Una was gone. Thank God.

‘It was a piece of piss,’ said Steve casually. ‘Found her, followed her—and she led us to a little bonus.’

Annie’s heart-rate picked up. Her own boys had beaten the Barolli mob to the post and she felt proud. ‘Where are you?’

‘Queenie’s,’ said Steve. ‘You want to come over?’

‘I’ll be right there.’

She reluctantly left Layla in Dolly’s care. This had to be seen through to the bitter end, and she knew it. Tony drove her over there. He knocked on the door and Jackie Tulliver let them in.

Jimmy Bond was on his knees in the empty front room. All the boys were standing around looking at him, with disgust written clear on their faces. You didn’t betray the firm. That just wasn’t done. Jimmy was going to learn that the hard way.

He’d obviously put up a fight when they’d caught him. Annie looked at his bruised, swollen, and bloody face as he knelt there, no longer hard or handsome, no longer immaculate, his shirt torn, his trousers muddy. His hands were tied behind his back. When she entered he squinted up at her with eyes that were almost closed, so severe was the beating he’d had.

‘Hi, Jimmy,’ said Annie, walking forward to stand over him.

‘Fucking
bitch,’
said Jimmy, and spat out a tooth.

Annie hauled back and kicked him hard in the balls. He doubled over, wheezing and retching.

‘That’s for Layla,’ she said.

Gary Tooley was leaning his lanky frame against the mantelpiece, watching. ‘What you want done?’ he asked.

Annie stared down at the wreck in front of her and spoke to Jimmy Bond.

‘The only reason you ain’t dead already is because you’re the father of Kath’s kids, you know that?’

Jimmy gulped and coughed, his eyes on the floor. He nodded.

‘If it was up to me I’d stick you on a meat hook. You had Max and Jonjo killed and my Layla kidnapped. You ain’t anywhere near paying for all that yet.’

Gary was still looking at her; all the boys were. Asking the question. What
did
she want done?

Annie’s eyes lifted from Jimmy and she looked around at them—her boys, there to do her bidding.

‘You know what?’ she said at last. ‘I’ll leave it to you, boys.
You
choose. But I want no comebacks, you got that? No comebacks.’

They nodded. Jimmy Bond was to vanish off the face of the earth. She’d just signed his death warrant, but her hands were clean.

She walked out of there, knowing that finally,
finally
, she had taken her revenge, and that the thing was finished.

When they got back to Limehouse, the phone was ringing again. Ross answered, and handed it to her with his usual scowl.

‘Hello?’ said Annie, unbuttoning her coat with one hand and holding the receiver with the other.

Ross went off into the kitchen.

Her sister’s voice said: ‘Annie? Is that you? Are you okay?’

Ruthie.

For a moment Annie couldn’t say a word. Her eyes were full of tears and she couldn’t utter a sound through a huge lump in her throat.

‘Fuck it all, Ruthie,’ she gasped.

How could she begin to tell her all that had happened? That she’d been through hell, that Max was gone?

‘Annie, are you all right?’ asked the kind, concerned voice of her sister. ‘Kath phoned and said you’d had trouble. I just wanted to check you’re okay.’

Annie blinked and clutched hard at the receiver. She swallowed and dragged her hands through her hair, but somehow managed to force out a laugh.

‘I am now,’ she said, and it was true.

She sat down on the bottom stair and told Ruthie everything.