The Life (39 page)

No one was allowed on these premises unless they were accompanied by a close family member. Daniel Bailey was old school; he believed that the best form of defence was to be hidden away behind some kind of fencing – he wasn’t as enlightened as his older brother or, indeed, his sons. They all thought – wrongly as it had now been proved – that they were immune to retaliations. Daniel had always known that a fortress was better than a fucking office door if things were suddenly to go seriously fucking pear-shaped. Now his sons had come round to his way of thinking – especially his eldest boy, who had begun to appreciate the need for such a structure, and who also thanked God that there was already one in existence. Danny was aware that his father was more on the ball than he had given him credit
for. Like the others, Danny had been lulled into a false sense of security over the years, but his mother’s murder had disabused him of that notion.

He looked around the Portakabin, pleased that his father had situated it in such a way that there was no chance of anyone seeing what was going on inside it. His father had, over the years, built a wall of iron which encompassed the Portakabin. Because of that, it was not only entirely private, it was also more or less soundproof. No one could hear you scream and, even if by some remote chance they
did
, the fact it was owned by Daniel Bailey guaranteed no one would bother to investigate anyway. Danny had his own suspicions about his mother’s murderer, but unless he had something concrete he daren’t voice them out loud – not with the family as they were now. He needed to be absolutely sure before he blew them apart.

He looked at Dessie Graham; he could feel the terror coming off him in waves and he forced himself to wink at him in an attempt to put him at ease. He was sorry for him – Dessie was a good bloke, and it would have taken a lot of guts to come here like this.

Dessie Graham, a handsome man in his sixties, was so nervous he felt physically sick. It was nothing to be ashamed of – at times like these anyone in their right mind would be on edge. But he had to say his piece; the Baileys had been good to him, and he was loyal – he prided himself on that. Dessie ran the Baileys’ pub on Southend Seafront, and he had no option but to come and discuss his suspicions with the men who paid his wage – a good wage at that. When he had come out of the nick after a twelve stretch, Daniel and Peter had given him a good earn; he would never forget that.

He had come alone, a fact that was noted by Danny and his brothers with respect. In the present climate, there were not
many men who would come alone to a meet like this. The Baileys – especially Daniel Bailey – would not exactly be likely to be at their most amenable at this tragic time in their lives.

When Daniel Bailey walked into the Portakabin with his daughter, Dessie felt his heart actually skip a beat. He was terrified to the point of virtual apoplexy now, even though he was innocent of any misdeeds against the Bailey clan. Of course, there was the added bonus that anyone with information would also collect a hefty wedge for their trouble. But Dessie liked to think he was doing this for the right reasons; if he was correct and got a reward of some kind that would just be a bonus.

‘Dessie. Good to see you, mate.’ Daniel Bailey shook his hand firmly, and Dessie felt himself begin to relax. ‘I hear you want to talk to me?’

Dessie nodded.

Danny made a face at his father, gesturing towards his sister. It was clear to everyone, including the young girl, that he did not want her in the room.

His father snorted. ‘Take her out to the night-watchman’s office. Put on the heater and the telly for her.’

‘I’m all right! I’m not a kid!’ Tania protested.

Her brothers laughed; Davey took her gently by the arm and removed her from the Portakabin. Walking her quickly across the yard, he could sense her annoyance, but he was not too bothered; she would get over it.

As he led her into the office, he said gently, ‘You must realise, sis, you can’t be a part of this, OK?’

‘I am a part of it, though! I’m as much a Bailey as any of you.’ She could see the sorrow in her brother’s eyes at the truth of her words.

‘Look, Tania, this could get a bit out of order. The less you know, darling, the better.’

She sighed in frustration. ‘I ain’t a fucking kid, Davey!’

He turned to her, and she could see his shock at her choice of words. ‘That’s enough of that language, OK? Do you think Mum would have let you talk like that, eh? Have a bit of respect.’

He left the small room, and she sat down on the smelly armchair. Gritting her teeth, she wondered how they could still treat her like a child after the last few days. Her mother had been blown apart by a bomb – a bomb meant for her uncle – but she had been coming to fetch
her
, so she had endured that guilt every second of every day since. She wanted to take her revenge on the culprit as much as they did – why couldn’t they see that? She finally wanted to cry, but she was not going to.

She stood up and watched her brother as he hurried across the yard once more; the rain was pelting down, and she felt lonelier than she had ever felt in her life.

Back at the Portakabin, Danny poured them large brandies and, as Dessie threw his back in one nervous gulp, Danny said gently, ‘Tell him what you told me.’

Dessie nodded. He could feel the men’s eyes boring into him, and he hoped he was doing the right thing. If he was wrong, he would be leaving himself open to all sorts of fucking aggravation – and not just from the Baileys either. He was sweating with fear; the tension in the room was almost overpowering his ability to speak.

‘I heard a whisper, Daniel, and I didn’t know if I should repeat it, you know? I don’t want to drop anyone in it. But I felt that you needed to hear it.’

Daniel Bailey just stared at him. Dessie could see the toll his wife’s death had taken on him, and he was genuinely sorry for the man. Everyone knew that Lena Bailey was his big love; it was already an urban legend because of the way she had died.

Danny nodded at him, urging him to carry on. ‘Just tell him, Dessie.’

Dessie took a deep breath before saying quietly, ‘At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, it was just something I’d overheard, it meant fuck-all, you know? But after everything that’s happened—’

All the boys jumped, as their father suddenly bellowed, ‘For fuck’s sake, Dessie, just spit it out, will you!’

The man’s face turned ever paler; he looked like a statue, he was suddenly so still. Abject terror in his eyes, he struggled to speak. They felt desperately sorry for him, but their father needed to hear what this man had to say and, by all accounts, it was important enough for him to have requested this meet. They were willing Dessie to get it over with.

‘I heard something in the pub, it was the night that . . . When . . . you know . . . Lena.’ He stumbled once more as he tried to explain himself.

Daniel rolled his eyes up at the ceiling with impatience. ‘I assume you mean the night my wife was blown all over the West End, the night my brother was supposed to die instead of her. Is that the fucking night you are referring to, Dessie, or was there another fucking night I don’t fucking know about?’

Danny said evenly, aware that his father was at breaking point, ‘All right, Dad, let’s hear what he has to say, eh?’ He smiled gently at Dessie, saying, ‘You all right now, Des? Need another drink?’

Dessie nodded, then he cleared his throat noisily. Jamsie started to pour more brandy, as they waited to hear what he had to say.

Daniel Bailey was like a scalded cat, but he knew his son was right – he had to keep calm, let the man say what he had to say, but it was hard.

‘Billy Allen was in the toilet, having a line. I was on the john, I needed a dump, I’d had a gyppy belly all day, so he wasn’t aware of me being in there, like. Well, Terrence came in and they were talking the usual coke shite, you know, having a sniff, the usual. But then Billy said to Terry, “I wish we could be there, don’t you?” and Terry just laughed with him. Then Stevie Taylor came in and they started chatting about more old shit. I stayed in the stall until they had gone. I knew then that I was best keeping a low profile in case it was about their private business – you know what the Allens are like, especially that cunt Billy. I didn’t want them to know I had heard anything that was of a private nature, from what was obviously a private conversation. It was only afterwards that I even remembered it. When I got the call later on saying what had happened at the club, about poor Lena, I went through to the bar and relayed the news to everyone there. We were having a lock-in, and they were all our people, like. But when I thought about it the next day, I remembered that Terrence Allen had looked like he was about to collapse when I said what had actually happened – that Lena had been killed. I was a bit pissed by then, had a few lines myself, but I don’t forget things, Daniel, as you know. The more I thought about it, the more I felt I should tell you. I knew that you and Peter had given the Allen brothers a sharp tug recently, and I also knew they were not too thrilled about it. Look, if I’m talking shite, then I apologise, but I just knew I had to tell someone about it.’

Daniel Bailey was staring at Dessie Graham as if he had never seen him before in his life. His face was hard, closed, he looked capable of literally anything. He forced a smile on to his face and, holding out his huge hand, he gripped Dessie’s and pumped it up and down quickly, saying, ‘You did the right thing, Des. Now, keep this conversation to yourself. Not just
because I’m asking you, but also because the Allens would not take kindly to you relaying it to us lot. I thank you for coming here, and I know you are as sound as a pound, mate. If it helps, you will be in line for a fucking treat, OK?’

Danny knew the score and, within a few minutes, he had escorted a much more relaxed Dessie Graham from the Portakabin out to his car. After thanking him once more, and promising him a bonus for his loyalty, he was back with his father.

‘I’ve already got our boys out looking for the Allens, Dad – they are hunting them down as we speak. But I haven’t said a word to Uncle Peter or his lads about any of this yet. I felt it best to tell you first, and then let you decide where to go from here.’

Daniel looked at his son and he saw, for the first time in ages, just how like him this boy was. It was like looking at himself when he was a young man.

‘I didn’t think that pair of cunts would have had the guts, son. I thought this would be about the Russians – they are notorious for their fucking treachery, as well as bombings. I felt this had to be the work of someone of note, you know? Not a fucking tin pot pair of cunts like the Allens. That ponce Billy couldn’t tie his own shoelaces on his own. They are both nothing more than bully boys – they couldn’t have kept their game up without us behind them. Surely Terry had to have known that.’

Noel watched his father as he digested the information. The worst thing of all was the insult – that his wife could actually have been murdered by men so far below him and his that they were unworthy even of his notice. He sat quietly, with Davey and Jamsie, knowing that they were a unit now. They didn’t need their cousins really. They were all of a like mind on this
one – just interested in seeing that whoever was responsible paid dearly for their actions. Until this moment, he had never thought of them as a family without bringing his uncles and cousins into the equation; now he saw that his father was the head of
his
family – of him and his brothers. His dad was a force of nature; he walked his own road, for good and bad, and he would never change. They were the Baileys all right, but they were actually separate entities – the same family, but different sides of the same coin. It had taken his mother’s untimely death for that to be brought home to them.

‘What do you think, son? Do you think the Allens have the guts to pull off a stunt like this?’

Danny shrugged. He thought about it for a few seconds before lighting a cigarette. Drawing on it deeply, he said honestly, ‘Once we get them in here we can ask them what they were talking about, but I think they
are
stupid enough to pull a stunt like this. They have a few creds, Dad, but they forget that their creds are only because of their association with us. That Terry is definitely cunt enough to think he can fucking walk over us. It’s the nature of the beast, ain’t it? He is a fucking scoundrel; he would con his own mother if he thought it would further his career.’

Davey laughed nastily. ‘I don’t trust him either, Dad, he is always a bit too slippery for my liking. Always got a fucking snide remark, you know? Acts like he is a fucking hard man, but it’s Billy who’s the hard nut. Without him, they wouldn’t be fuck-all.’

Daniel was impressed by his son’s acumen, pleased that Davey had sussed that out.

Danny’s mobile rang. He sighed. ‘Seems Billy Allen is on his way here. It took four of the lads with a fucking Taser to even get him in the van. He is well pissed apparently.’

Daniel Bailey looked at his sons’ faces, as he said angrily, ‘Fuck him! He ain’t as hard as he thinks.’

Danny nodded in agreement, but said seriously, ‘I’d rather his brother, though. Terrence is like all bullies – deep down he is a fucking coward of the first water.’

Peter Bailey watched Ria preparing dinner. He was concerned about her. Since Lena’s death, Ria had been quieter; she was feeling her friend’s absence acutely. They had always been very close, and her friend’s death had brought the reality of their lives once more to the fore. She knew, as they all did, that the bomb had been meant for him. Clearly the person responsible had a different agenda to what the outside world seemed to think.

Lena dying in his place had really affected Peter too; the guilt was overwhelming. If he had not given her his keys that night, she would still be here, her daughter would still have a mother, his brother would still have a wife he adored, and his own wife would still have her best friend.

Ria had taken it very badly. Lena’s death had brought back memories she had struggled to forget. They had never discussed Jack and his antics in great detail; she had accepted his death, as she had always accepted everything Peter had chosen to do. Like Lena, she was a woman who looked to her husband for guidance and, like Lena, she trusted her husband to keep them safe. Now he was sure that belief had been shaken.