Widows

Bella stared at Dolly. ‘I didn’t say you were, Dolly... but, seeing as you mentioned it, you were the one who dressed Boxer up in your old man’s cast-offs, gave him money to get pissed and told him Harry was still alive, knowing full well that Boxer’s incapable of keeping his mouth shut.’ Even in leather underwear, Bella was a formidable opponent.

Dolly didn’t respond to the criticism. Instead, she demanded, ‘Who’s watching over Linda?’

‘She didn’t say and I didn’t ask, but at least she’s not on her own. I’ve got no idea about Shirley, cos she’s not answering her phone.’

‘I’ll keep trying Shirley. Will you be OK?’ The instant the words left Dolly’s mouth, she knew they were unnecessary. Bella didn’t bother answering.

‘I’m sure Shirley will turn up as agreed tomorrow,’ Bella said. ‘We can fill her in about Tony and Boxer then. But we do need to talk about it, Dolly,’ she went on seriously. ‘None of us like what’s goin’ on, and it has to be sorted before one of us gets hurt.’

Dolly liked the way that Bella shot straight from the hip. ‘Listen, Bella, I’m not making light of what’s happened to Boxer or of Tony Fisher sniffing round and, whether you believe it or not, my priority is the safety of you girls. All of you. We will talk about it but we also got to keep it in perspective for Linda and Shirley. They ain’t like me and you. Tomorrow we need to focus on the job in hand, not be distracted by the Fishers, or an old drunk who could have just pissed off the wrong person for all we know.’

‘You don’t believe that for a second, Dolly Rawlins,’ said Bella. ‘And neither will anyone else.’ But she said it with a smile.

As Dolly pushed her way out of the club her heart was pounding. She clawed through the stench of men and beer, desperate to get to the fresh air beyond. Outside, she leaned against the wall and calmed herself down.

She had to hold it together. She had to hold it all together.

Bella was right about Boxer; she knew his beating must be connected to the lies she’d told him about Harry being alive. She knew it was her fault.

Although Dolly felt sorry for Boxer, she couldn’t bring herself to care that much. She’d given him his chance. She wasn’t heartless, she reasoned, but he was nowhere near as important to her as the widows — or the job they’d vowed to do. Nonetheless, she assured herself that when she got back home, she’d say a little prayer for Boxer Davis.

Chapter 16

Resnick sat in the corridor outside the Intensive Care Unit below a no-smoking sign, smoking. He’d brought an ashtray with him from the relatives’ waiting room. He hadn’t stayed there long; he couldn’t stand being surrounded by helpless people. He needed answers, and the quiet of the empty corridor gave him time to think.

Earlier that night, Resnick had gone to Boxer’s flat only to be told by his landlady that Boxer had gone out with some bloke the night before and not come back. She hadn’t been able to describe the bloke or, more to the point, hadn’t wanted to get involved. ‘I don’t want no trouble,’ she kept saying.

Resnick had been about to call it a day when he got the call to say that Boxer’s beaten and unconscious body had been found in a Soho alley. Rather than go to the scene of the crime, Resnick had dragged Fuller back to Boxer’s flat to interview the landlady again, whether she wanted to co-operate or not.

When they arrived, they found the front door had been kicked in. Fran was lying flat on the floor like a beached whale, her face beaten black and blue, blood streaming from her nose and a deep cut to her forehead trickling blood into her eyes.

‘No more! Please, no more!’ she screamed as Resnick and Fuller burst in. ‘I dunno where Boxer is, I swear I don’t. Please don’t hurt me no more.’ It took her several moments to focus on Resnick’s face and realize that she was safe.

‘It’s all right,’ Resnick said as he bent over her. ‘We’re police. I was here earlier, remember? You’re all right now. The ambulance is coming.’

Fran did remember Resnick and quickly calmed down, but she absolutely denied seeing the face of the man who had beaten the crap out of her. Resnick didn’t tell her that Boxer was at death’s door, he just kept repeating that she’d be OK and once she was a little calmer, he started to push her for information.

‘Was the man who beat you the same man who was with Boxer last night?’

‘I dunno!’ wailed Fran. ‘I’m so frightened...’

No one takes a full-on beating as severe as she had without seeing the bastard’s face. He had to have been right in front of her, only inches away. But Fran wasn’t going to tell them anything.