Jaime Raven - The Rebel - The new crime thriller that will have you gripped in 2018

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by AVON 2018

Copyright © Jaime Raven 2018

Cover layout design © debbieclementdesign.com2018

Cover photographs © Getty

Jaime Raven asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008253493

Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9780008253509

Version: 2018-02-13

To the new arrivals, in order of age – Evelyn, Lucas, Adam and Ella. May they all have a happy life.

Swansong: a metaphorical phrase for a final gesture, effort, or performance before death or retirement.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Prologue

Part One

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Part Two

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Part Three

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

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It was a dry night so Terry Malone decided to walk home. He hoped it would give him time to sober up and get over the shock of what he’d been told.

The revelation had knocked him for six and even now, two hours later, he still couldn’t get his mind around it.

It didn’t help that he’d had too much champagne. He wasn’t used to it. He preferred beer and whisky, but his boss had insisted on cracking open two bottles of Moët.

‘Get it down you, lad,’ Roy Slack had urged him back at the club. ‘This is a big fucking deal and we have to celebrate.’

The West End was still buzzing even though it was almost midnight, but Terry was oblivious to the crowds and the incessant hum of the traffic.

Forty-five minutes. That was about how long it would take him to trek to his home across the river in Lambeth. Amy would be in bed, of course, but she wouldn’t be asleep. Whenever he was this late she stayed awake and worried.

He supposed it was only to be expected. The wives and girlfriends of most of the other gang members were the same. Being a villain wasn’t like being an accountant or a teacher or a bus driver. It was a tough, stressful business that entailed risk and uncertainty. And it put an awful lot of strain on families and friends.

Amy had become far more anxious since discovering she was pregnant four months ago. She kept asking him what would happen to her and the baby if he got shot, stabbed or banged up for years.

That was why Terry had been giving serious consideration to packing it in and going straight. It was also why he was dreading her reaction to tonight’s bombshell revelation. The impact on their lives was going to be considerable and she was bound to freak out.

In all honesty he wouldn’t blame her. He was struggling to come to terms with it himself and it was making his head spin.

When he reached Lambeth Bridge he broke his stride and sparked up a fag. From his pocket he took the letter that Slack had given to him. He read it through for the umpteenth time and once again he felt a flash of heat in his chest. The words were already embedded in his mind. They were shocking, life-changing, terrifying. And they sent a cold chill down his spine.

He put the letter back in his pocket and stood looking down on the inky black Thames, his heart thudding in his chest.

After a couple of minutes he decided that he wouldn’t break the news to Amy for at least a couple of days. That’d give him time to take it all in and assess the implications. There was so much to think about, not least the kind of future he wanted for his unborn child.

He drew smoke deep into his lungs and reflected on what a momentous year it had already been.

Seven months ago he’d been pushing drugs for an Eastern European outfit in North London before its leaders became victims of the Met’s latest crackdown on organised crime. Their arrests had caused chaos inside the organisation and allowed rival gangs to move in on the territory and the various businesses.

Just weeks later his mother had died, aged fifty-three, after a stroke. She’d managed to cling on in hospital for several days before taking her last breath.

Terry had been devastated and the future had looked truly bleak. But as one door closed another one had opened. He’d been approached by Roy Slack’s people and invited to join the biggest and most ruthless firm in the capital.

He’d then met Amy in one of Slack’s West End clubs. After only five dates he realised that he loved her and on the seventh date she’d announced that she was pregnant.

She’d thought he’d be angry and disappointed, but he couldn’t have been happier. At twenty-six he was ready to be a father and was determined to make a good job of it.

He’d been telling himself that he would always be there for his son or daughter, and he’d try to give them a better start in life than the one he’d had.

But was that going to be possible given what he now knew?

It was one of the many questions that were piling up inside his head as he stood on the bridge and fought against the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him.

He felt a little better by the time he got home. The walk had flushed most of the alcohol through his system and his head had stopped spinning.