East End Trouble (4 page)

K
eith Parker knew
his time was up. He lay across the back seat of Henry the Hand’s car with his wrists and ankles tied together. His bladder was full to the point of bursting after his drinks in the pub, but needing the toilet was the least of his worries right now.

They’d been driving for a while. Henry was at the wheel. From his position on the back seat, Keith couldn’t see properly. All he could see was Henry’s three-fingered hand coming down to rest on the gear stick every so often. It gave him the creeps.

After helping bundle Keith into Henry the Hand’s car, Red-haired Freddie had walked back into the pub laughing. Keith could still hear that horrible cackle echoing in his ears. When he’d seen that Big Tim was waiting for them in the car, he’d almost wet himself.

He didn’t know what they were going to do with him. He hoped they had a gun and that way it would be over as quickly as possible, but from the stories he’d heard, Martin Morton’s men didn’t favour quick deaths.

“Please, Tim, I haven’t done anything wrong. This has all been a misunderstanding.”

Keith had already taken a smack around the earhole from Henry for talking too much, but he just couldn’t stay quiet. He had to try. Even if there was the slimmest chance he could get out of this, he had to take it.

“You’ve made your bed, Keith. Now you have to lie in it.”

His mother had always used that saying as well, and Keith had never understood it. What did making a bleeding bed have to do with anything? He was glad his mother hadn’t lived to see what would become of her son. She had passed five years ago; God rest her soul.

“Please,” Keith sobbed. He could feel the wetness from his tears underneath his cheek on the car seat.

“If you don’t shut him up, I will,” Henry the Hand growled at Tim, and he reached over, keeping one hand on the wheel, trying to smack Keith in the face with his horrible, disfigured hand.

Keith squealed in terror and tried to wriggle further back on the seat.

“Keep quiet,” Tim said in a perfectly calm voice. “We are nearly there.”

Nearly where? Keith wondered. They’d sped along smooth roads for a long time, but now the road they were on was bumpy, and from glimpses out of the window, he could just about see a lot of trees and green stuff. They had promised to take him to the country. Essex was his best bet. They were probably going to dump his body somewhere where it wouldn’t be found for ages. They’d leave him as food for the wildlife.

The car came to a stop, and Keith’s pulse was going through the roof. This was it. This was the end.

The car lifted as Big Tim got out. He opened the back door and grabbed Keith by the scruff of the neck and the belt of his trousers, yanking him out.

Keith yelped in pain and refused to walk. He wriggled and tried to make himself as difficult as possible to carry. It made no difference. Big Tim didn’t get his nickname for nothing. The man was all muscle.

Keith looked around, desperately trying to see some way of escape, but there was nothing in front of them but a deserted country lane. Tim hoisted him up and carried him under one arm towards a small group of trees.

Keith felt his bladder release, and a hot stream of urine ran down his leg, dripping onto Tim.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting!” Tim dropped Keith on the floor.

Despite the fact his wrists and ankles were tied up, Keith did his best to wriggle away, but it was hopeless.

Henry grabbed one of his arms, and Tim grabbed the other. They lifted him between them, keeping their distance from Keith’s urine-soaked trousers.

“You’re not going to get away, so you may as well face up to it, you dirty bastard,” Henry the Hand said.

“But what am I supposed to have done?” Keith pleaded.

“You know what you’ve done,” Henry said. “You double-crossed Martin Morton, and nobody does that and gets away with it.”

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I was just selling a few fags, that’s all. I would never double-cross Martin.”

Keith was unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

“Well, you will never get a chance to do it again,” Henry said, and from the back of his waistband, he pulled out a pistol.

As terrified as he was, Keith felt a strange sense of relief flow through him. At least, his death would be quick.

“Wait, I—”

Keith didn’t have time to finish his sentence.

Henry raised the gun and shot him squarely between the eyes.

“
T
hat girl will be
the death of me, Alice,” Mary Diamond said.

She was sitting at her kitchen table with her neighbour, Alice Pringle. Alice was known as the neighbourhood gossip, and Mary wouldn’t usually be talking to her about a family matter, but she was at her wits end and had no one else to turn to.

“She’s had it too good for too long, Mary. You’ve worked your fingers to the bone for that girl. You’ve given her everything, and how does she repay you? She becomes some gangster’s tart.”

Mary Diamond bristled. She wanted to give Alice a slap for saying something like that about her daughter, but deep down she knew it was true. She had spoilt Kathleen, giving her everything she could afford to, trying to compensate for the fact Kathleen had grown up without a father.

Everybody had heard about Kathleen’s relationship with Martin Morton now. Mary had overheard people talking about her in the butcher’s and had to turn around and run out. She had never felt so ashamed. She felt ostracised.

“She’s not a bad girl really, Alice. She’s just easily led astray.” Despite everything, Mary couldn’t really believe it was Kathleen’s fault. That bastard was to blame. Martin Morton had turned her head, and Kathleen just didn’t understand the consequences.

“If you ask me, the girl needs a damn good hiding,” Alice said and plucked a cigarette from the packet on the table before offering them to Mary.

Mary took one. She didn’t often smoke, but right now she needed one.

Mary picked up her stewed cup of tea and took a sip. “It’s too late for hidings, Alice. She’s too big for that now. I’m just going to have to hope she comes to her senses before it’s too late.”

Alice took a deep drag on her cigarette and then watched the smoke as she exhaled. “It might be more than just Kathleen’s reputation at stake in all this, Mary.”

“What do you mean?” Mary set her tea back down on the table and looked at Alice intently.

“Well, for one thing, I’ve heard that Babs Morton is pregnant.”

Mary set her lips in a firm line. How could Kathleen runabout with the husband of a pregnant woman? Maybe she didn’t know? If Mary passed on the news, then Kathleen might start steering clear of Martin Morton.

“How do you know that?”

“I know Frieda Lyons, and her daughter, Maisie, works as a receptionist at the Doctor’s surgery.”

Mary frowned. She didn’t like the idea of nosy Alice having access to everyone’s private medical records.

“And another thing,” Alice continued, using her cigarette to emphasise her point. “This is probably even more important; I’ve heard rumours about Dave Carter.” Alice lowered her voice as she said Dave Carter’s name, even though no one could overhear them in Mary’s kitchen.

“What has Dave Carter got to do with anything?”

Alice leaned forward over the table and moved her half-full cup of tea to one side. “I’ve heard whispers that Dave Carter might be making a move, trying to muscle in on Martin Morton’s patch.” Alice raised her eyebrows. “And you know what that means, don’t you?”

Mary nodded slowly. She did know what that meant. It meant that there would be bloodshed very soon and an ugly battle for territory. Kathleen’s involvement with Martin Morton meant her darling daughter would be caught right in the middle of it.

A
t the same
moment as her mother was worrying about her future, Kathleen sat up in bed with Martin Morton, her naked body covered with a thin cotton sheet. She smiled in delight as Martin handed her a navy blue velvet jewellery case.

Kathleen’s eyes widened. “What is this?”

Martin grinned showing off his gold tooth. “A present.”

Kathleen snuggled up beside him. “I like presents,” she said and squealed with glee as she opened the box to find a solid gold Rotary watch.

“Do you like it, Princess?”

“Oh, Martin, I love it!” She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the lips.

Kathleen had been getting a bit fed up lately. She’d wanted Martin to take her out to a fancy restaurant in the West End, or at least somewhere other than the club, but he refused to go. He told her he couldn’t risk anyone seeing them together yet.

But the present had made her forget all that. It more than made up for it. Kathleen held out her arm as Martin fastened the watch around her wrist.

Martin got out of bed, stretched and then turned back to Kathleen. “You better get off home now, Princess. I’ve got work to do.”

Kathleen tried her best not to look hurt. It was just Martin’s way. She nodded, threw back the sheets and started searching the floor for her underwear.

There was a horrible niggling feeling deep down inside her. A little voice kept saying if Martin really cared for her wouldn’t he give her a lift home, or, at least, make sure she got home safely? But he always left Kathleen to walk home alone, again telling her he didn’t want to risk people seeing them together.

Of course, things would be different as soon as he got his divorce. Martin had told her he was going to tell his wife about them next month. He said things were complicated at the moment, but by next month, everything would be out in the open. Kathleen was already dreaming about her engagement ring. She could picture it clearly. She put the fact that they’d only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks out of her mind. Time didn’t really matter when you were in love after all.

After she had gotten dressed, she walked through the bedroom and into the living area as she wanted to say goodbye to Martin. As she reached the doorway, the phone rang.

Martin snatched up the phone. “Is it done?” he asked.

There was a pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone, and then Martin smiled.

“Excellent,” he said and then hung up. He walked across to the cocktail cabinet to fix himself a whisky.

“I’ll be off then,” Kathleen said.

“All right,” Martin said, not even bothering to look up from his drink.

Kathleen felt deflated as she walked out of the club and into Hollins Lane. It only took five minutes to walk home, but she didn’t exactly enjoy walking alone in the dark. She always imagined there was someone in the shadows waiting to pounce.

She glanced down at her watch, trying to cheer herself up. She didn’t know why she was feeling so down after getting such a lovely present. Surely she should be happy. And she planned to be happy, just as soon as Martin got his divorce through and everything was settled.

She had just turned the corner into her street when somebody grabbed her from behind and thrust her up against a brick wall. The scream died on Kathleen’s lips as she stared into the eyes of Babs Morton.

Babs leaned her arm against Kathleen’s throat. The pressure was so intense she could barely breathe.

“You little bitch. You’ve just been with Martin, haven’t you?”

The weight of Babs’ arm on her windpipe meant Kathleen couldn’t speak, so she just shook her head instead.

“What has he told you? Did he say he’s going to leave me for you? He says that to all of them, you daft cow. He is only seeing you because I’m pregnant.”

Kathleen felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Pregnant? No, that wasn’t possible. Clearly Martin didn’t know about this. Otherwise, he would have said something.

Oh, God. He’d never leave her now that she was pregnant.

It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

“You’re lying,” Kathleen croaked out.

Babs released her grip and started to laugh. “You really are just a silly little girl, aren’t you?”

She pulled her dress flush against her stomach, so despite the fact it was dark, Kathleen could see a rounded bump.

Her eyes filled with tears. “You haven’t told Martin. He doesn’t know…”

“Of course, he knows, you daft mare. And I’ll tell you this, he’ll never leave me for the likes of you. So you’d better get yourself another man. Preferably someone who isn’t married.”

Babs poked a bony finger at Kathleen’s chest. “I fight for what’s mine. Everyone is scared of my Martin, but it’s me you need to be afraid of.”

A
fter Babs Morton
had threatened her, Kathleen had stayed away from the club and Martin.

She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed that Martin hadn’t bothered to contact her. There were no roses this time, not even a note asking if she was okay. Did he know Babs had found out about them? Or had he found out that Babs was pregnant and decided to dump Kathleen without telling her?

She didn’t appreciate being ditched in such a humiliating way, but her friend Linda insisted Kathleen had had a lucky escape.

If nothing else, her mother was pleased. In fact, that was an understatement. Mary Diamond had been bloody ecstatic when she realised things between Martin Morton and her daughter were over.

Kathleen leaned back on her bed and sighed. It was the weekend, so there was no reason to get up. She didn’t seem to have the enthusiasm to do anything anymore. Linda had come round last night, trying to get her to go out for the evening, but Kathleen couldn’t be bothered. Linda had stayed for a while, trying to interest Kathleen in gossip about a girl who had just been sacked from Bevels. Normally Kathleen would have enjoyed the salacious details, but last night she just sat miserably listening to Linda going on and on.

There was a bang on her bedroom door. “Come on, Kathleen. You can’t stay in bleeding bed all day.”

Kathleen put a pillow over her head. That was exactly what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to see the outside world. She knew people had been talking about her behind her back. She quite liked being gossiped about when she thought they might be impressed that she’d landed a man like Martin Morton, but it was a completely different matter now she knew they were laughing at her. She wanted to shrivel up and never leave the house again.

Her mother wasn’t one to take no for an answer, and she barged into Kathleen’s room, pulling back the covers and gave her a slap on the backside. “You lazy mare. If you get out of bed, you can have a treat.”

Kathleen peered out from under her pillow. “A treat?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, I’ve decided you need a little something to cheer you up. I thought we’d go down the Roman and get you a new dress. What do you say?”

Kathleen shuddered at the thought of going to the busy market where lots of people would see her. She’d always loved shopping in the past, particularly if it was something for her. She was about to shake her head and tell her mother to go away when she saw the concerned look in Mary’s eyes. Her mother was really worried.

Kathleen knew she could be a little self-centred at times, but she did love her mum, and she didn’t want her to worry. She had stuck by her through all of this, after all.

“All right, thanks,” Kathleen said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm.

Mary beamed. “Good girl. I’ll be downstairs.”

Mary went downstairs and poured a cup of tea for Kathleen. She was really worried about the girl. Kathleen had been moping around the house and only picking at her food, which was very unlike her.

She knew it seemed like the end of the world to Kathleen right now, but gossip died down in the end, and most people didn’t believe Kathleen was a bad person. They thought she’d been a silly little girl, led astray by Martin Morton.

It had been a couple of weeks since Kathleen had last been out in the evening, so Mary knew she hadn’t been seeing that horrible man. Violet Craig, who worked in the greengrocers next to Bevels dress factory, liked to keep an eye on passers-by, and she’d informed Mary that she had never seen Martin Morton step within a few feet of the place. Mary was satisfied that this horrible incident was over, and they could now put it behind them.

Later that morning, Mary and Kathleen walked along the Roman Road market, trying to avoid the puddles. After an unusually hot start to the summer, the rain had returned with a vengeance, and now it looked like they would suffer a soggy August too. Mary didn’t much mind; she’d been getting hot flushes recently, so the cooler weather was definitely a relief.

She shot a sideways glance at Kathleen, checking the girl was all right. She didn’t look her cheerful self, but at least, she was looking about at the stalls and the brightly coloured clothes. It wouldn’t be long until she was back to normal.

Mary decided when she went home she would have a word with Linda and encourage the girl to see a bit more of Kathleen. In Mary’s opinion, Linda was a very good influence.

A pink dress fluttering on a hanger caught Kathleen’s eye, and she wandered across, reaching up for the material and rubbing it between her fingers. It was a heavy crêpe and Mary thought it would look good on her daughter.

“How much?” Mary asked the man on the stall.

The man gave his price and Mary balked.

“Not on your Nelly,” Mary said, folding her arms under her bust and giving the man a stern look.

Kathleen smiled. Her mother loved the pantomime of the market. She loved haggling and getting a bargain.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught Kathleen’s attention.

She gasped and shrank back, trying to hide behind the stall.

It was Babs Morton, striding along the street as if she owned it and behind her were her two children, Ruby and Derek. Derek looked around five years old, and Ruby was scarcely more than a toddler.

As Babs turned around to hurry the children along, she caught sight of Kathleen and scowled. Her belly looked full to bursting now, and Kathleen guessed it wouldn’t be long before another little Morton was in the world.

Kathleen let out the breath she’d been holding when Babs simply turned away and carried on walking. She felt her shoulders slump as she realised Babs didn’t think she was worth worrying about anymore. Babs had been right all along. Martin hadn’t cared about her at all. She’d just been one more notch on his bedpost.

She turned back to her mother, who was still haggling happily with the stall owner. She hadn’t noticed Babs, and Kathleen was glad.

She was sick of being the victim. Sick of feeling sorry for herself. Sick of going to the same boring job every day, and sick to the back teeth of not being able to afford the nice things she believed she deserved. It was time to make a change. Kathleen was determined to do something with her life, and she wouldn’t let the Mortons, or anyone like them, tread all over her again.

One day, Kathleen would get her revenge. She would pass Babs on the street, decked out in diamonds and furs and look down her nose at Babs Morton and her horrible family.