Kimberley Chambers - The Victim

‘We passed that boozer on the way ’ere, it’s only a couple of minutes down the road. What I suggest is yous two go in and bring the cheeky cunt outside. I’ll wait in the motor and then we’ll take him for a nice little ride.’

Eddie watched the boys walk into the boozer, then collared a man walking his dog. ‘Excuse me, is there any forestry or woods around here? My son has taken our dog for a walk and has rung me and asked me to pick him up. We’re new around here, so he’s a bit lost, I think.’

The man nodded, then gave directions. ‘Come on, Poppy,’ he said, as he toddled off with his faithful friend by his side.

Seconds later, Eddie saw Gary and Ricky walk out of the pub alone. ‘Where the fuck is he, then?’ Ed asked as they got in the motor.

‘Gary’ll explain,’ Ricky said, leaving his brother to do the talking.

‘The bloke who lives at the house we knocked at is called John Griffiths. He was in the boozer; we’ve just spoken to him. He’s just moved here from Custom House.’

Ed glared at Gary. ‘You’ve gotta be havin’ me on.’

‘It ain’t all bad news. The geezer knew Colin, says he drinks in that pub an’ all. He reckons he lives at number six, not sixty-six. I must have misheard that arsehole we gave a dig to and took the address down wrong, unless he gave me a dodgy one on purpose.’

‘Well, let’s go and knock at number six then.’

Gary shook his head. ‘Colin has gone to the Canary Islands, Gran Canaria apparently. He ain’t due back until Saturday week. That John hates him, said he’s a right mouthy prick. He told me that Colin gets in the boozer at twelve on the dot every lunchtime.’

Eddie smashed his fist against the steering wheel. His bad mood had just doubled. Not only had he had a wasted trip to Milton Keynes, and now had to come back there again, but the shit-bag that had ripped him off was now pissing his money up in sunny climates, the cheeky bastard.

Eddie started the ignition and sped off like a loony. ‘I tell you something, and I mean this. When I catch up with Colin Deadman Griffiths, not only am I gonna make him pay me twenty-five grand back, I’m also gonna disfigure the cunt for life. No one takes the piss out of me and gets away with it, and I mean no one!’

Jimmy O’Hara met his contact in the Derby Digger in Wickford. Bobby Berkley was a lifelong family friend and was also the brother of Pete Berkley, who was coming towards the end of a ten stretch in Belmarsh. Pete was willing to carry out the killing of Ronny and Paulie alone for the sum of twenty grand.

At first Jimmy had ummed and aahed over the wonga Pete demanded. He knew a few travellers in Belmarsh who would probably do the job a lot cheaper, but in the end, he had decided to stump up the cash. Mitchell had given him thirty, so whatever he shelled out, he was still in credit and that thought made Jimmy smile. Mitchell paying him to kill his own brothers while giving him a good drink on top was the stuff that dreams were made of.

Bobby Berkley stood up and shook Jimmy’s hand. ‘What are you drinking, pal?’

‘I’ll have a pint of bitter,’ Jimmy said, sitting down at the table.

Bobby returned with the drinks and the men got straight down to business.

‘As agreed, there’s five up front and you’ll get the other fifteen when the job’s done,’ Jimmy said, as he handed Bobby an envelope under the table.

‘I’m visiting Pete on Wednesday and will tell him it’s all systems go. He’s on the same wing as Ronny and Paulie and he’s already been watching their movements,’ Bobby said.

‘I don’t care how he does it, I just want ’em both dead and I want it done before Christmas.’

Bobby nodded understandingly. ‘Don’t worry. Pete won’t let you down.’

Back in Rainham, Joycie Smith was starting to get very worried. She still hadn’t heard a dickie bird from Stanley, and had no idea of his whereabouts. When Stanley had had his little tantrums in the past, he’d always gone to Jock’s or their old house in Upney. He was at neither this time, as he’d fallen out with Jock and their old house had now been sold.

Joyce made herself a brew and sat on the sofa feeling desperately sorry for herself. Their house was in the middle of nowhere, down a country lane, and without Stanley and the car, Joyce felt like a prisoner in her own home. There wasn’t even a bus stop nearby. Stanley always drove her to and from the nearest one if she wanted to go into Romford or somewhere. Knowing that she would need to go food shopping in the next day or two, Joycie’s worry quickly turned to fury. She debated whether to ring Joey and Dominic and ask them to take her to Tesco tomorrow, but immediately decided against it. The poor little sods lived miles away and it wasn’t fair to keep spoiling their weekends. Getting more angry by the second, Joyce picked up the phone and dialled Jock’s number.

‘Jock, it’s me, Joycie. Have you found out where that senile old bastard is yet?’

‘I haven’t, Joycie. I ain’t heard a word from him, love.’

‘Well, I need you to do me a favour. I’ve got hardly no food here and I need to do a shop, so you’re gonna have to go to his little drinking haunts and find him for me. I need him to come home now, Jock.’

‘I don’t think Stanley’s gonna take orders from me, Joycie. The best I can do is pop up to where the pigeon club drinks and see if I can find out where he’s staying. If so, I’ll get the address for you.’

‘Thank you, and if you get no joy, let me know and I’m calling the police. The old goat could be lying dead in a ditch for all I know. Then again, I doubt I’d be that lucky.’

Jock laughed at Joycie’s warped sense of humour. ‘I’ll go and see if I can find out anything now and I’ll bell you as soon as I have any news.’

Eddie held Frankie close to his chest. Her hair had been styled, she had make-up on and, even though she was pregnant, she looked a damn sight better than she ever had when she was with Jed.

‘Wow, you look well. Been having a makeover in here, have ya?’

Frankie grinned and sat down. ‘My cellmate Babs made me up. She’s well cool, Dad. Babs is Jamaican and we get on so well. You know when you meet someone and just click? We’re gonna be friends for life, I know we are.’

Eddie frowned. Joey had told him all about this Babs bird and he wasn’t happy at all that his beautiful daughter was sharing a cell with a murderer. ‘You shouldn’t get too friendly with this girl, Frankie. Joey mentioned her to me. She’s up for murder, ain’t she?’