Widows

Terry had taken Jimmy to meet Harry in a pub three months previously, although Jimmy had had no idea what for. Harry liked to take his time to size up new boys before working with them, or telling them what he was up to. That day at the quarry Harry was there to watch Jimmy at work. If he liked what he saw then he’d tell him what the job was and put him on the team as a driver. Jimmy was a good-looking fella, about thirty-three, six feet, with a big frame. With no criminal record other than petty driving offenses, he’d never had his fingerprints taken. He had been on a couple of bank robberies as a driver before, so came with good references, but his reputation for not cracking under pressure had more to do with the risks he’d taken when he was a racing driver.

Jimmy was testing the engine of the bread truck that Len Gulliver had nicked for Joe Pirelli from the Sunshine Bread Company. It was a good, square-shaped vehicle with double doors at the back. Joe had attached a heavy metal bar under the rear bumper, strong enough to take the impact when the security wagon rammed into the back of it, and had fitted a cross harness to protect the driver from the impact. Jimmy put his foot down and did a circuit of the quarry. It didn’t sound too good, but it would by the time he had finished with it. Once back with Harry and Terry, Jimmy jumped straight out of the van, yanked the bonnet up and leaned into the engine to fine-tune it. Harry was impressed.

While all this was going on, Joe Pirelli was in the woods that ran along the side of the old quarry, test firing his sawed-off shotguns by taking a few pot shots at woodpigeons and the odd pheasant. Joe was a professional and fanatical about his ‘irons,’ regularly cleaning and greasing them down with oil. For the past three years, Joe and Terry had worked together closely and Terry respected his self-assurance and nerves of steel. Joe also had a quick temper and could be violent, but Terry and the others always knew how far they could push him. If you saw his dark eyes give a strange jerky flick, that was the warning... then Joe Pirelli was lethal. Although they shared a mutual respect, they weren’t close friends and rarely socialized together outside of work. One of the boss’s rules. And if you worked for Harry, you did as he said without question; that was the way it was and the way it had to be for everyone’s safety.