East End Trouble (18 page)

F
urious
, Martin stormed back to the club. He was damned if he was going to stand around and listen to Babs go on at him about something he’d finished ages ago.

It wasn’t his fault if that daft cow, Kathleen, wasn’t sensible enough to avoid getting herself in the family way. Babs was being completely unreasonable.

The club was closed when Martin let himself in the front door. All the punters had long gone, even his bar staff had cleaned up and finished for the night. All the glasses had been collected and washed, ready for the next day, but the floor was still sticky under his feet.

Martin made his way behind the bar and reached for a bottle of whisky. He poured himself a generous measure and downed it.

He was going to make sure that little bitch never crossed him again. He poured himself another whisky, tucked the bottle under his arm, made his way to the doorway at the back of the bar and started climbing the stairs to his flat.

He was a couple of steps from the top when he heard a noise.

There was some bastard in there!

This was Martin’s flat. It was his domain. Who the hell would have had the nerve not only to break into Martin Morton’s club, but to actually get into his private living space, too?

Martin was in no mood to be crossed tonight. He was going to show the cheeky bastard what for.

He flung open the door, holding the bottle of whisky by the neck, ready to smash it down on whoever had the nerve to break into his property.

He stalked down the corridor, but the main living space was empty. Then a noise caught his attention, and the door to the spare bedroom door opened. Martin whirled around and held up the bottle of Scotch.

“All right bruv,” Tony said, grinning at him. He didn’t have a shirt on, and his trousers were slung low on his hips, showing off the body he was so proud of.

Martin gritted his teeth, but he lowered the bottle of whisky. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he asked his brother.

Tony gave a shrug and another grin. “Entertaining.”

Martin looked over Tony’s shoulder and could just make out a woman hiding in the shadows in the bedroom.

Martin turned his back on Tony and walked back towards the open plan living area and sat down on the sofa.

Tony followed him.

“And what is wrong with your gaffe?” Martin said pointedly.

“That’s where Melinda is. She’s moved in. I could hardly take this one back there, could I?” Tony whispered.

Martin shook his head at the sheer nerve of his brother.

Tony had a flat above the bookies on Titan Street because Martin paid the rent. Up until a year ago, Tony was still living at home with his mother, and Violet Morton still hadn’t forgiven her eldest son for helping her youngest boy move out.

“What are you doing back here anyway? I thought you were back at the house with Babs tonight?” Tony asked reaching for the bottle of whisky and then rummaging around in the kitchenette for a glass.

“Above the sink,” Martin said, pointing to where he kept glasses. “And don’t talk to me about that bloody pain in the arse.”

“Babs?”

“The woman’s got a screw loose. She got me to go home just so she could have a go at me about getting Kathleen Diamond up the duff.”

Tony spluttered a laugh and then covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry, bruv. Did you really get her pregnant? Blimey. No wonder Babs is giving you a hard time.”

Martin shot Tony a dark look, snatched the bottle from his brother and poured himself another whisky. “Babs thinks she can tell me what to do. It’s a joke. All this time I’ve spent building up my reputation in the East End, and two women think they can take me on and make a fool of me? They’ve got another think coming.”

Tony frowned. He liked Babs. She was a good woman, and in Tony’s opinion, she put up with a lot from Martin.

“I don’t think Babs is trying to play you, Martin. I imagine she’s just a bit hurt.”

Martin looked at his brother as if he’d grown two heads.

“Well, I can’t do much about Babs because I’m married to the silly mare. But Kathleen Diamond is going to regret she ever met me.”

“And what about the kid?”

Martin sneered. “What about it? How do I know it’s even mine? She probably dropped her knickers for every Tom, Dick and Harry. I’m not being conned. I bunged her a few quid while she was pregnant to keep her quiet, but she’s gone back on her word. She went to Babs and told her all about it.”

Tony gave a low whistle. “The girl has got some nerve.”

Martin shook his head. “Cheeky bitch. She’s going to regret it. I promise you that.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Martin stared down into his glass of whisky, swirling the glass and watching the amber liquid glitter in the light. “I’m going to make sure she never bothers me again, bruv.”

Martin gave a cruel smile, distorting his handsome features, and then he raised his glass of whisky to his brother in a toast.

“Here’s to getting rid of meddlesome bitches.”

Tony raised his own glass and clinked it against his brother’s. “Right you are. Now, do you mind if I get back to my lady?” he asked, nodding at the spare bedroom.

Martin shook his head. “Go right ahead. I suppose I should at least be thankful you had the decency to not use my own bed.”

Tony got up with a grin and headed back to the woman he’d left in the bedroom, while Martin nursed his drink.

He didn’t mind being left alone. It gave him more time to plot his revenge. Kathleen bloody Diamond was going to pay for this.

A
t eleven o’clock
the following morning, Martin was nursing a hangover. He’d polished off the bottle of whisky last night, and his head was pounding. Tony and his bit of fluff hadn’t left yet, and Big Tim was due to arrive at any minute. Martin took his extra strong cup of tea downstairs with him.

Tim used the little office behind the bar, which was barely more than a cupboard under the stairs. Every day, he looked at the takings, made sure the staffing levels were adequate and placed any orders the club needed, but before he made a start on that today, Martin needed to have a word.

Unfortunately, Frieda hadn’t yet finished cleaning. She clattered the metal bucket against the floor as she moved it a few inches and then continued to mop.

The noise set Martin’s teeth on edge.

“Morning. Heavy night, was it?” Frieda asked as she eyed him warily.

Martin didn’t dislike Frieda particularly. He really had no feelings towards her at all one way or the other. He’d given her the job years ago because she’d been a friend of Babs’s mother. He’d never had any complaints. She did the job she was paid to do and kept her mouth shut. As far as Martin was concerned, that was good enough

“Something like that.” Martin took a sip of his tea.

A shadow fell across the doorway as Big Tim entered the club. He walked inside, shrugging his big shoulders and taking off his coat. “Morning, Frieda.”

Tim had removed his coat by the time he noticed Martin sitting at the bar. “Morning, boss. Is everything all right?”

Martin didn’t normally talk to Tim at this time of day. He didn’t usually talk to anyone until the afternoon. But today was different.

“I need a word about something,” Martin said

Frieda looked up, her tired, old eyes now bright and alert.

Although she’d worked for him for years, and Martin thought he could probably trust her, there was no way he was going to chance her overhearing this.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Martin said, shooting a pointed look Frieda.

He’d just have to turf Tony and his fancy woman out of bed. He didn’t want anyone overhearing what he was about to say to Tim, not even his brother.

As they walked upstairs, Martin said, “We have a problem, Tim, and I need someone I trust to sort it.”

Big Tim nodded his large head. “You know me, Martin. I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

Martin nodded with satisfaction. He was pleased with Tim. He’d killed Keith Parker without even questioning Martin’s reasons. He was a good and loyal worker.

As Martin pushed open the door to the flat, he turned to Tim and looked up at him. “I rely on you, Tim. You know I appreciate loyalty, and your work hasn’t gone unnoticed. You’ve earned a pay rise. An extra fiver a week, plus I want you to be my number two.”

Tim’s face opened up in surprise. “Number two? But I thought Tony…”

Speak of the devil. Tony chose that moment to appear.

At least he had a shirt on this time.

“I need you and your bird out of here,” Martin barked.

Tony scratched his head and looked at Martin through bleary eyes. “Can’t we at least have a cup of tea first? I’ve only just woken up.”

“I don’t care, and no you can’t.”

Tony stared at Martin for a second as if he was considering arguing with his brother, but then thought better of it. Mumbling under his breath, he went back to the bedroom, and Tim and Martin heard him cajoling the woman to get out of bed.

Martin moved over to the small kitchenette and began to fill the kettle.

He was going to make another cup of tea, but only for him and Tim. He’d had enough of Tony. It said a lot when he didn’t trust his own brother with the most important aspects of the business. But deep down, Martin knew that Tony wasn’t trustworthy. Tim was.

After Tony and his bimbo had shuffled out of the flat, Martin turned back to Tim and put a mug of tea in front of him.

“It’s a personal matter,” Martin began, leaning on the counter, staring at his strong cup of tea. “Kathleen Diamond.”

Big Tim frowned. “What about her?”

“She’s been causing me a lot of grief. You know me, Tim. I’m a reasonable man. I’ve given her money, supported her, ignored her little tantrums, but now she’s gone and brought my family into it. I can’t be having that. She went round there with her baby, showing it to my kids. Can you believe it? And what proof do I have that the baby is even mine?”

Tim stayed silent. He really wasn’t sure what the best approach was in the circumstances, so he thought it was better to keep shtum.

“I have certain rules, Tim. My number one rule is to come down like a ton of bricks on anyone who messes with my family. And that’s what Kathleen has done.”

Tim nodded his head in agreement. He’d met Kathleen on numerous occasions, and she’d always come across to him as a little too big for her boots. He agreed with Martin. She could do with taking down a peg or two.

“Do you want me to have a word?” Big Tim asked. “I could go round there and put the fear of God into the girl. She wouldn’t bother you again.”

Martin gave a slow smile that set Tim’s teeth on edge. “For any normal girl, I think you might be right. Trouble is, this Kathleen is a vindictive bitch. She thinks I owe her, and she’s not just going to take this lying down. I was planning to bung her a bit of money and set her up somewhere out in Essex. I figured keeping her and Babs apart would be the best thing to do under the circumstances.”

Tim nodded as if that made a lot of sense to him.

“But I’m afraid that’s just not going to work now. We need a more permanent solution.” Martin looked at Tim meaningfully.

“Permanent?” Big Tim’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t believe it. “Do you mean…?”

Martin nodded and drew a finger across his neck in a cutthroat gesture. He watched Tim carefully for his response. This was a true test of his loyalty.

Tim’s face grew pale, but other than that, he displayed no reaction.

That was good. It reassured Martin that he’d made the right choice. He could trust Big Tim.

Big Tim felt his stomach churn as he stared at Martin’s cold, impassive face.

Big Tim was no angel. He’d done plenty of things in the past he wasn’t particularly proud of, but somehow he’d always managed to explain it away and tell himself that there was a reason behind it.

But in all his days on earth, Big Tim had never so much as raised a hand against a woman, let alone killed one.

His career path was decided at an early age. The sheer size of him meant he was a valuable commodity even in the playground. He’d taken money from the other kids to act as their protector.

In those days, his sheer size was enough to deter people. As he got older, though, it seemed as though older lads wanted to make the name for themselves by challenging Big Tim to fight.

He’d been a gentle boy until he was ten or eleven, and then he’d realised people were not going to let him be. To stop the constant challenges, he had to prove his point.

The next boy who picked a fight with him, went down hard. Tim left him with a broken collar bone. He’d had to do it so word would get out that Big Tim was not someone to be messed with.

It was a hard lesson but one he’d remembered for the rest of his life. Go in hard. Go in brutal.

As time went on, people didn’t just want him as a protector. They employed him as an enforcer. He’d started working for Martin over five years ago, and in that time, he had personally been responsible for the deaths of three men. Most of the time it was an easy job. He usually just had to rough someone up and put the fear of God into them, so they paid Martin whatever they owed.

But on occasion, he’d stepped across that line and committed murder. Somehow Tim managed to justify it.

The three men he’d killed were nasty pieces of work. One of them was a wife beater, the other a grass and finally, the most recent, Keith Parker, had been a double-crossing little bastard.

In Tim’s opinion, they’d all gotten what was coming to them. But a woman… Actually killing a women…Doing something as horrendous as that had never crossed Tim’s mind before.

His mouth felt dry as he stared at Martin. His boss’s mouth was moving as he issued Tim instructions and told him about his plan. But Tim couldn’t take it all in. His mind was whirring.

He’d never let Martin down, not once. He’d taken on every job assigned to him and done it well.

The trouble was, he’d done it so well that Martin wouldn’t let him get away without seeing this through.

Now Martin had confided in him, they were locked together by this secret, and he knew that if he didn’t do it, somebody else would. Would Martin really let him live, knowing the dreadful secret?

He didn’t have a choice. Like it or not, he was going to have to do it.