Widows

‘Thought I’d update you,’ Bill said, grinning. He thought it was funny that he might have just interrupted Harry and Trudie shagging. Harry wasn’t smiling at all. ‘Dolly’s still indoors,’ Bill continued. ‘She drove back just after dark and ain’t been out since. I rang Ray the Rash, but there’s not a dickie about her trying to fence the money anywhere, but he’ll keep askin’.’

Harry put his finger to his lips and led the way into the kitchen, Bill followed him and shut the door. Harry put the kettle on.

Harry recapped. ‘When she went home after being at the nick, the blonde bit will have told her about Eddie’s visit... hopefully she just described him as “some bloke” and not my stupid fucking cousin. I don’t think Blondie and Eddie have ever met so we might be in the clear there. But then Dolly went out in the car, you say?’ Bill nodded. ‘Then she’s stashed the money, ain’t she?’ Harry was thinking hard. ‘Now where would she have put it?’

Bill shifted his weight. He was getting pissed off with all this hanging round: he couldn’t see why Harry didn’t just let him pay Dolly a visit and force it out of her. ‘That cop Resnick turned up and had a good gander at the house,’ he added. ‘He was on his own. Only there for a minute or two.’

Harry laughed. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s an idiot only fit to investigate kids nicking sweets from the corner shop.’ He handed Bill a mug of tea and paced round the kitchen, deep in thought. ‘If nothing has moved by 6 a.m., you come back and pick me up and the three of us will go in. I’ll deal with Dolly and you and Eddie can keep the other one quiet. Eddie owes her a good slap after what she done to his face.’

‘You want my opinion?’ Bill chewed his lip and slurped his tea. ‘We should have gone in that bloody house hours ago and got what we needed. All this farting about has given your missus time to hide the cash and now—’

As Bill spoke, Harry tightened the towel round his waist and launched himself across the kitchen, grabbing Bill by the scruff of his neck and slamming him against the kitchen wall. Harry already knew what Bill’s opinion was; he knew what went on in his warped head. ‘I make the decisions, you hear me? And you — you do as I say!’

Bill stood against the wall, tea held out to the side so as not to spill it, and avoided eye contact. Bill wasn’t frightened of Harry — they were pretty equally matched when it came down to it — but Harry was the boss and Bill respected that. Harry was the one with the money and the brains, the reputation and the power. Bill had none of that, so he held his tongue. Bill liked to live in the shadows, but those who did know him knew he was a man who got things done. Quickly and quietly. That’s why people hired him. Bill had never, and would never, grass on anyone. On the three occasions he’d done some face rearranging for Harry, there had been no trail between Harry and the incident itself. That kind of discretion was worth paying for, and Harry paid well.

As Harry let go of Bill, Trudie walked in holding the crying baby. Harry, still all fired up, turned on her.

‘What the fuck do you want now?’ he snapped, knowing she was just snooping. Bill took his opportunity to slope out of the open door.

Trudie looked nervous. ‘Just a cup of tea and some milk for the baby. That’s all.’

Resnick was waiting outside Jimmy Nunn’s flat. He’d stopped just along the road behind some parked cars so he had a decent view without being visible himself. He saw a man walk out of the flats and recognized him as the passenger from the car parked outside Dolly’s house; the car that had Eddie Rawlins in the driver’s seat.

As the man passed under a street lamp, Resnick got a good look. ‘I know you,’ Resnick whispered, poking his forehead with his finger, willing himself to remember the name that went with the face. ‘How do I know you?’