Get Even (20 page)

Lenny got into work early. He had rung Jack and arranged to meet him at 7 a.m. and he was waiting for him when he arrived. They were both drinking large mugs of tea when Lenny asked him the question he needed the answer to.

‘I heard through the grapevine that Frankie Barber was drinking down the road so I popped in with Reggie to pay my respects, like, and get a look at him. He seemed all right – a bit of a handful I should imagine if crossed – but he gave me my due and I gave him his. Now, I am asking this with all respect, Jack: did you have any dealings with him in the past that he might have a problem with?’

Jack Johnson laughed loudly. ‘You mean, did I tuck him up?’

Lenny nodded. ‘Did you?’

Jack stopped laughing. He said seriously, ‘Truthfully? Yes and no.’

Lenny frowned at his words. Jack Johnson sighed. He knew he would have to explain himself. The strange thing was, he didn’t want Lenny to have a bad opinion of him. Lenny was a straight arrow in many respects and, though he was capable of great violence and great cruelty, Lenny Scott was also what was known as an honourable man.

‘It’s a long story, son.’

Lenny grinned one of his crooked smiles and said, like a schoolteacher, ‘Then let story time begin. I’ll make us another cuppa first.’

Lenny was intrigued. He couldn’t imagine Jack tucking anyone up. But, as his dad always said, you live and learn.

Reggie was waiting at Custom House to meet Detective Inspector Daniel Smithson. Reggie had been shocked to get the early morning call from him, demanding they meet in private. Seemed it was of the utmost urgency and only he could help him.

Reggie Dornan’s healthy disregard for the police as a whole had come in handy and he had managed to make the man think he was doing him a big favour by giving him a half-hour of his time. Christ knew, they paid the fucker enough. But it was handy to have Old Bill beholden to them, and something personal could always be used at a later date. So, he waited, looking out over the Thames and wondering what the fuck could be so important he was out of bed at this ungodly hour.

It was the beginning of autumn and the cold was setting in across England. There was a grey mist over the water and he could see the faint lights of office buildings in the distance. Reggie heard a car pulling up and turned to meet Smithson. He didn’t like the man, but that was neither here nor there. You didn’t love a guard dog, but you fed it and you housed it because it could be useful to you.

Smithson got out of his car and Reggie could see the worry on the man’s face as he walked towards him. He wasn’t exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer; he was tall, thin and looked like he had not eaten a decent meal in months. His sparse, sandy hair was badly cut, and he always seemed to have an aroma of peppermints that Reggie and Lenny guessed rightly was to hide the smell of his serious boozing. He was scum as far as they were concerned, tucking up his own. But they wisely kept that opinion firmly to themselves.

Reggie shook the hand that was stretched out to him and then smiled diffidently. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk and he let this be known. Smithson came straight to the point, as Reggie had hoped he would. He passed a brown envelope over to Reggie which, when he opened it, he saw was full of glossy eight-by-ten photos. He looked at a couple of them and made a disgusted face.

‘I’m assuming these weren’t developed in Boots,’ he said, trying to lighten the situation.

Smithson didn’t answer and Reggie saw that the man was genuinely terrified of the photographs and what they could mean for him and his career.

Reggie shook his head, as he said quietly, ‘Fuck me, but you are one ugly bloke. And she’s not just young enough to be your daughter.’

Smithson still said nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

‘Where were these taken?’ Reggie decided not to torture him just yet; there was plenty of time in the future for that.

Smithson finally spoke. ‘At a house in King’s Cross.’

Reggie’s ears pricked up. ‘The Carter twins’ old place?’

The man nodded.

‘What do they want from you?’

Smithson looked into his face and said dramatically, ‘They want you. Or, to be more specific, they want Jack Johnson.’

Reggie was frowning now. ‘What? Terry? He wouldn’t fucking dare!’

Smithson shrugged. ‘It ain’t him you need to be worried about, Reg. It’s that cunt Frank Barber. He walked in and demanded it as his right. Reckons he had an understanding with the Carters. He’s been shouting about how you and Lenny took them out.’

Reggie was quiet. He needed to think. Putting the photographs in his inside pocket, he said seriously, ‘Leave this with me. I will be in touch.’

Smithson was scared. ‘What do I say? What do I do?’

Reggie rolled his eyes in exasperation, as he said nastily, ‘What do you want me to do, you gormless cunt? Hold your fucking hand? Use your loaf for once in your fucking life.’

With that, he got in his car and drove away.

Lenny was amazed at the story that was unfolding. But he could see Jack’s point of view all right, and he said as much.

‘So your sister’s child was Frank’s?’

Jack nodded. ‘We were great mates, me and him – like you and Reggie. When he got her in the club, he told her he would never marry her. Remember, this was the early sixties and that wasn’t a bit like now. Those were the days when a pregnancy outside marriage was seen as a terrible thing, you know? The girl was looked on as a whore, especially if the culprit didn’t marry her. And he was a lairy fucker, was Frank. My sister tried to top herself over it all – she was too scared to tell me or my mum and dad. She had the baby – a boy – and he was adopted. But she was never the same. Still a bit touched to this day, if I’m honest about it. Lovely looking girl she was too. I blame meself. I warned Frank off her, see? And that just made him more determined to have her.’ He sipped his tea and saw the wide-eyed incredulity on young Lenny’s face. ‘I couldn’t let the truth out, so I gave him the hammering of a fucking lifetime and I never paid him a penny of what he was owed from our earns. It was the least I could do to pay him back for what he’d done. Then he got a capture and a big lump and that was it. Till now.’

‘Fucking hell, Jack, what a cunt. I feel like slapping him myself.’

It was what Jack wanted to hear but Lenny genuinely meant every word he said.

‘This needs sorting out.’

Jack smiled slowly. ‘My thoughts entirely.’

They heard Reggie pull up outside the yard in his motor and, twenty minutes later, they were drinking strong cups of tea and planning their attack. It seemed everything was falling into place.

Terry Cobb was annoyed, but there was little he could do up against an old Face like Frank Barber. Frank had his creds and, as old as he was, he could still fight his corner in a row. The Carters were gone – no one could say whether he had right on his side or not, so that was a fucking no-go. Plus, Frankie had given him his due in that he was happy for him to run things, and that would have to do to be going on with.

What Frank Barber had not allowed for was Terry’s determination to keep what he saw as rightfully his – and that he would move heaven and earth to achieve that end.

Terry said all the right things and acted in an appropriate manner, but inside he was seething at the injustice of it all. He would put his plans into action and take back what was rightfully his. But he knew how to play the game, so for now Frank Barber would think Terry was full of gratitude to his benefactor.

Little Liam was sitting on his mum’s lap and colouring with her. He liked these moments when Lenny was at school and he had her to himself. He loved his mum and he loved it when she babied him like this.

‘Did you have a nice time with Daddy on Sunday, darling?’

He nodded as he concentrated on keeping the colours between the lines. He was colouring in a car and he wanted to give it to his dad later on, with his name printed on it neatly. His dad set great score on neat writing for some reason.

‘Uncle Reggie was funny, as well. He chased us round Uncle Jack’s yard and let us pet the guard dogs.’

He saw his mum frown and wished he had not mentioned the two Dobermans. His mum was what his Uncle Reggie called ‘a worrywart’ and that word had made them all laugh, especially his daddy.

‘Did you and Lenny have cakes and tea as usual? And see the cars?’

She knew that was the highlight for the boys when Lenny took them to the scrapyard. They loved to see the machines and the crushed cars. Lenny wanted them to start their education very early about how much money there was in scrap. She agreed with him on that score, though she thought the yard dangerous for two little buggers like her boys.

‘What else did you do?’

He thought for a few seconds before saying seriously, ‘Me and Lenny were playing hide-and-seek, and I hid in the office.’

Sharon smiled happily, until he looked into her eyes and said honestly, ‘That’s when I saw Daddy kissing Uncle Reggie.’

Sharon Scott felt her heart stop in her chest at his words. As young as he was, Liam was clearly waiting for a reaction so, swallowing down her fear, she said lightly, ‘You must have been dreaming!’

He looked steadily into her eyes as he shrugged and she realised that he had seen something he was still trying to make sense of in his own little head. He dropped his gaze and went back to his colouring.

He knew inside that what he had seen was wrong somehow, he just wasn’t sure why and that was the reason he had not said anything his older brother yet. Something told him this was not to be bandied about, as his Granddad Del would say. He didn’t know why but he felt this was a secret, and the fewer people that knew about it, the better.

Sharon Scott stood up and placed her son on the kitchen chair gently. Then smiling, she said gaily, ‘Who wants tea and biscuits?’

As she filled the electric kettle she felt physically sick. Her mind was screaming ‘No!’ There was no way the child could have seen something like that. But instinctively, she knew deep down inside her that Liam was telling her the truth. He had definitely seen something. But what?