Get Even (29 page)

Ivy Conway had been terrified for her daughter’s safety and she hugged Sharon tightly when she finally walked through the front door. Del was relieved and he shook hands with Reggie, thanking him for bringing her home safely. Reggie left to go about his business and Del followed him out. He wanted to be a part of all this, no matter what Ivy might think about it.

Inside, Ivy was having difficulty believing what her daughter had been through. ‘Is it true they shot at the rank, Sharon?’

Sharon nodded.

‘Dear God in heaven. What has the world come to when a woman can’t even run a legitimate business in peace?’

Sharon sighed heavily. She knew that this would be the general conversation from now on; her mother exclaiming over the events, and her wanting to forget them, for a short while at least. The fear at the noise of the shots and the sheer confusion that had surrounded the act was finally hitting her and she felt sick with apprehension. She wished she had just given Jamie the fucking lot and been done with it. But she had listened to Jack Johnson and, knowing he had her back, she had not been too worried about the outcome.

Now, though, it was a different kettle of fish altogether. She was frightened, seriously frightened. It was just sinking in that someone had shot at her, had actually picked up a gun and fired at her and her workforce. The enormity of it was hitting her. The sheer outrageousness of the act made her realise just what she was dealing with. Suppose Jack Johnson, Reggie and Ray couldn’t sort this out? Where did that leave her and her boys? Her husband had been murdered – and they’d never found the killer – would she be next? Her hands were shaking violently.

Ivy went to the bathroom and, taking two sleeping pills out of a bottle, she hurried through to the lounge and forced Sharon to take them. Then she ran her a bath and helped her daughter into it. Finally she poured out two glasses of wine and sat on the floor of the bathroom, listening helplessly as her daughter cried her heart out.

Davie Bannerman was still like a man possessed. He had tracked Jamie down to a local boozer on Brixton High Street. He had no qualms about letting Jack and his crew know his brother-in-law’s location because he intended to be there to make sure that everything was done properly.

The one thing with Jamie Brewer was that he had extraordinary luck where saving his own skin was concerned. It was almost fucking demonic. He had been stabbed years before in a fight and, though the knife had pierced his heart, he had fucking recovered. As he had lain in the ambulance, the Old Bill had asked him who the culprit was and Jamie had told them in no uncertain terms to go fuck themselves. He had to be given creds for that. But he had defied everyone, the doctors included, by surviving and coming out of hospital as strong as he ever was.

Jamie had then knifed the boy responsible fifteen times.

Oh, he had the luck of the Irish all right, but tonight that luck was going to finally run out. Because he, David Bannerman, was going to see to it personally.

Ray Donovan was raring to go. He was absolutely fuming over the night’s events and he would not rest until that little fucker was in the ground. The sheer recklessness was his main concern. What kind of fucking Face put the public in danger like that? Men and women who were simply going about their daily business. This was London, not fucking Belfast. It showed just what kind of an imbecile they were dealing with. Ray didn’t care how connected this ponce was. It was all over for Jamie now – no one would countenance such stupidity, no one of any worth anyway. Jack Johnson seemed to think that the lad’s father was even willing to wipe his mouth. There was a maniac brother-in-law out for his hide as well. Jamie Brewer certainly seemed to have the knack for making enemies.

Ray got out of the car with Reggie and the two heavies and they made their way into the public house. This was Rastaland, and Reggie had taken the liberty of informing an old friend of his that they were coming.

Barton King was a huge Jamaican with thick dreads and an easy smile; he was the undisputed main man in Brixton and Tulse Hill. He had already had a couple of run-ins with Jamie Brewer so he was only too happy to help take him down. He had agreed to make sure the fucker didn’t leave the pub – by force if necessary.

Jamie was with his crew; they were drunk and stoned, and celebrating his big shoot-up of a widow woman’s business. Barton watched him warily as did Barton’s own crew. He had crossed the line when he had gone after Lenny Scott’s widow – she had two young sons and a dead husband. People like her were entitled to be left in relative peace.

Jamie Brewer was laughing when the four men walked into the boozer. Desmond Dekker was on the jukebox and, within seconds, the pub was cleared of its usual clientele who all had a terrible urge to suddenly walk down the high street and finish their drinking elsewhere. It wouldn’t take Albert fucking Einstein to work out that some serious business was going down. For the first time Jamie felt a prickle of fear. His posse moved instinctively away from him, and he sensed the anticipation in the air. All his life his family had protected him. He had done exactly what he had wanted to and never had a thought for the consequences.

When his brother-in-law walked in and locked the doors of the pub he felt his stomach clench and he understood that he was on borrowed time. He looked up into the faces of Ray Donovan and Reggie Dornan and saw that they were determined to finish him.

‘Hello, Jamie.’ Reggie’s voice was soft but in the quiet of the pub it sounded like a gunshot.

Jamie looked at his crew and saw the same fear etched on to their faces. Barton King was smiling that easy smile of his and, going behind the bar, he started to set up some drinks. Then Ray Donovan took out a machete from under his coat and they all watched in fascination as Jamie Brewer was dismantled before their eyes.

David Bannerman was the first to shake Ray Donovan’s bloodstained hand and then a party atmosphere ensued. Jamie’s crew were told to pick up their mate and deliver him to his home. They were given black bags to carry him in. Then the men sat down and, while Ray cleaned himself up, they chatted amicably.

The only comeback from James Brewer was to take out the two heavies who should have protected his son. Minor cogs was how he saw them. That satisfied his revenge and kept him in good stead with his colleagues. Something had been done – or had been seen to be done anyway. He knew better than to try and take it too far; even he wouldn’t relish taking out his own daughter’s husband. But, if he was honest with himself, he never really liked David Bannerman after that night.

Ray Donovan and Barton King became good friends after the murder of Jamie Brewer and they were regularly seen together drinking. Ray always laughed and said it was because he favoured a machete, which was often the weapon of choice for Jamaicans.

It was three months after Jamie’s murder that Ray brought Sharon with him to see Barton and his wife, Jamella. The two women had been friends at school and had wanted to meet up and reminisce. It was also the night Ray realised that he was in love with Sharon Scott. As they sat in the restaurant eating curried goat and rice, he watched her as she smiled and laughed with her old friend and he knew then that he would do everything in his power to protect her and her two little boys. He had never felt like this about a woman before and he liked it.

He liked working with her too, enjoyed running the loan operation, which was getting bigger and bigger by the day. Who knew there was so much money in poverty? But, as Sharon pointed out, they didn’t charge as much as the other lenders and they didn’t threaten violence if the money was in arrears. The secret was not to lend out money the person couldn’t afford to pay off – though that was not how many of the other lenders worked.

They had expanded to other areas and they had good collectors working for them – even some women, which was unheard of in their game. But Sharon made sure that there was always a stunning array of bedding and clothes to offer on the tally, as well as electrical goods and homeware. That was where she believed the real money would be and she seemed to be right. She was astute in her own way. She was everything Ray wanted in a woman and he wished he could tell her how he felt. But the first move had to come from her, of that much he was sure.

Sometimes he caught her watching him with what he thought was a softness in her eyes, but he honestly didn’t know if that was just wishful thinking on his part. The main thing he was pleased about was that the haunted look had left her, and for that he thanked God. After the trouble with the Brewers, she had seemed to lose a lot of her sparkle. But he had seen her gradually coming back to herself now that the immediate threat was gone.

James Brewer Senior, in a gesture that had thrown everyone – even Jack Johnson – had gone to see her personally and had assured her that he was heart-sorry for her troubles, offering her his protection or his help if she or her sons ever needed it. It was an empty promise, as she had Jack, Reggie and now Ray himself looking out for her, but the fact he had expressed it spoke volumes. He had certainly gone up in people’s estimation since. Though cynics like himself, Reggie and Jack believed it might have had more to do with the man finding out that the little fucker had been robbing him blind right, left and centre. His own son! Who would have believed it? It seemed that Jamie Brewer was willing to thieve off anyone, family included, which spoke of the moral fibre he possessed.

As they were ordering their liqueurs, Ray’s hand accidentally came into contact with Sharon’s and he felt her draw back from him. But when he looked into her eyes she was smiling shyly at him and he answered that smile with one of his own. It was an intimation that she was ready to take their relationship a step further; at least he hoped so.

Barton and Jamella watched the display, both wondering why it was taking this pair of idiots so long to see that they were made for each other.

Sharon Scott was nervous and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she didn’t know Ray Donovan; she spent the best part of each day with him. He had even taken to running her sons to school, which they loved. They saw in Ray a surrogate father, and that could only be a good thing. He took them on jaunts as well, joked with them about supporting Manchester United instead of West Ham, though he supported Newcastle. He made sure they did their homework and questioned them about their lives. Something Lenny had never really done.