The Jump (46 page)

Donna knew she shouldn’t question herself too much; brooding like this was a bad thing, especially in the night, and with only a cigarette, a glass of scotch and her own active imagination for company. But it all seemed so real now; Eric had made it real. Once she had left Scotland and Liverpool it had ceased to seem real to her, but Eric was real. Too real. He spoke about the jump as if it was a game and she was sure that to him it was, a lucrative game that earned him a considerable amount of money and gave him the opportunity to get one in the eye of the establishment.

Donna stared out of the window and sighed gently. It was all set now. Even if she wbnted to pull out, she couldn’t, she was in over her head. Georgio knew it, and she knew it. The knowledge upset her. She had envisioned herself keeping apart from it all somehow, being part of it but not actually taking a part. She now knew that she was wrong. She could be arrested at any time; if anyone got the Slightest inkling of what was about to go down, she could be hauled into a police station and questioned. She could be charged with conspiracy, and God knew what else. Once Georgio was out she could be put behind bars for a long time if they were caught.

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Although these thoughts had floated in and-out of her consciousness at different times over the last few months, she hadn’t really let them take substance, because she knew if she thought about them too much she would have backed out, proved a coward. Now, after meeting Eric, she knew exactly what she had done and she also had an inkling of what she could end up having thrown at her.

When Maeve had accused her of becoming like Georgio she had realised just how astute her mother-in-law was. Donna had felt a rage inside her at the thought of Lewis’s henchmen coming to the restaurant. Had the rage always been there or had it developed over the past months? The question frightened her. All she had wanted was her husband. Home. Her husband whom she had been convinced was as pure as the driven snow. She smiled as she thought of her naivety. Had she really thought that over the years - really, deep down? Had she honestly thought Georgio was such a perfect man?

She couldn’t answer that. Georgio was Georgio, and whatever he was, she had wanted him … still wanted him. And the only way to get him was to fight for him.

She knocked back the scotch and poured herself another. Sleep was beyond her, getting drunk was beyond her. She was at a pitch of nerves that would let her neither rest nor sleep. She had become good at fighting, and Georgio had sat up and taken notice, that was the main thing.

The sharp ringing of a phone broke into her thoughts and she automatically picked up the receiver by her side. Nothing, just a dialling tone. It took her a moment to realise it was the fax on the desk. She went to it and listened in the eerie light as the strange sound emanated from it, stretching her overwrought nerves. As the paper began to spew on to the desk she laughed with relief. She had given herself the heebiejeebies over nothing. Quickly, she swallowed down more scotch.

Picking up the piece of paper she scanned the page, turning on the desk lamp to see it more clearly. It was written by hand, a scrawling hand. She screwed her eyes up to read it better.

FOR DAVEY AND GEORGIO

TROUBLE AT THE HOTELS. GOVERNMENT TROUBLE.

NEED HELP.

STOPPED SHIPPING UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

CANDY

Donna looked at the fax as if she had never seen one before. Who the hell was Caiidy? The headed notepaper was from the Bay View Hotel

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them in Sri Lanka. She read and reread the fax, but still she couldn’t make head nor tail of it. Shipping what? Georgio had already told her that the government had stopped the building, so what could be the new trouble? Her husband vanished from her mind as she studied the message.

She needed to get to the bottom of this - and Davey would have to start answering some questions soon. She saw the fax number on top of the piece of paper and, without knowing why, locked the fax into the desk drawer. Dolly was always around and about and something told her to keep this to herself for a while.

Here was another of the great Brunos mysteries; and knowing Georgio like she did she knew she wouldn’t get a straight answer from him about it.

Carol was in the office when Donna arrived and the two women chatted and shared a cup of coffee. Small talk was easy with Carol Jackson; she thrived on it.

‘My Chrissy’s in all sorts of trouble up the school. I told Davey to give him a right-hander but he won’t. I’ll have to do it as usual.’

‘What’s he done?’

Carol shook her head. ‘If I told you, Donna, you wouldn’t believe me. That boy is just like his father, feet first into everything. He’s fifteen going on thirty, that’s his trouble.’

Donna smiled sympathetically. ‘Where is Davey, by the way? I want to have a word with him.’

Carol shrugged. ‘Out. I dunno when he’ll be back. He had a bit of business.’

Donna rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘If we had a penny for every time they said that!’

Carol laughed with shock. Donna was talking like any villain’s wife. Carol wasn’t sure if she liked the change.

‘Can I help you at all?’ she asked tentatively.

Donna surveyed Carol carefully before answering. Her make-up was as bright as usual, her hair backcombed to its limit and gold jewellery very mucjpf in evidence … but Donna saw the softer side of Carol looking at her t her hands.

through all that and so she took her courage into

‘What’s going on in Sri Lanka, Carol?’

She saw Carol lick her lips nervously and drop her eyes. ‘I dunno. You tell me, Donna.’

Donna took a deep breath, feeling a chill come over the room at her next words.

‘Come on, Carol, I’m not a fool. What’s going on in Sri Lanka?

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You know more than Davey, probably. I’m well aware you make a point of knowing everything - so why don’t you share that knowledge with me? I am supposed to own the land out there, after all, ditto the land in Thailand. I think I have a right to be told what’s going on.’ Carol lit a Rothman’s and stared into Donna’s face. ‘You want the truth, Donna? The truth is that I don’t exactly know what’s going on out there. Stephen looks after that end, and Davey. It’s one of the few things he has never discussed with me.’

Donna heard the underlying worry in Carol’s voice and probed deeper.

‘Do you think it’s illegal then, whatever all this is about?’ Carol laughed wryly. ‘Everything they touch is a bit dodgy. It’s Stephen being involved that really bothers me. Once he gets into things, they tend to get dirty.’ Donna looked her in the eye. ‘Dirty? In what way?’ Carol smashed her cigarette into the ashtray and said through her teeth, ‘Just dirty. Filthy rotten dirty. What made you ask about Sri Lanka, Donna? What have you heard?’

Donna swallowed deeply. ‘I just found some papers in Georgio’s safe and wondered what they were about, that’s all. I haven’t “heard anything”, as you put it.’

Carol lit another cigarette. ‘You look rough, girl, really rough. Like a woman with a lot on her mind.’

Donna smiled. ‘I didn’t sleep much last night, Carol. And I have got a lot on my mind.’ ‘Missing Georgio?’

Donna nodded faintly. ‘Sometimes I hate him, Carol, for what he’s done, for what he wants me to do. But even knowing that, underneath it all, I know I’ll do what he wants.’

‘I feel the same about Davey,’ Carol admitted. ‘Oh, I know to you he ain’t no prize. But to me he’s like my life’s blood. I couldn’t exist without him, you know?’ Her hard features softened as she spoke and Donna saw the girl she had been, many years before.

‘Sometimes it wouldn’t take nothing for me to batter him to death with a baseball bat, especially when I know he’s been out tomming. But the underlying fact of it all is, I couldn’t even begin to think of living without him.

‘We get older, girl,’ Carol went on sadly, ‘but men don’t. Oh, they do in years but not in the brain. Most men’s cocks rule their heads till they’re in their dotage. You only have to look at the politicians who get tumbled because of a bit of skirt. What we have to do is swallow it, no matter how much it hurts.’ Donna nodded, understanding flooding through her.

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them ‘I could never believe the way those women stood by their husbands after they’d been publicly ridiculed …’

Carol laughed. ‘I can, because without them they’re nothing. They don’t want to try and find a new life at forty or fifty odd. They want the bills paid, a good car, a nice drum. They want to be paid out for bringing up the kids and taking the flak all those years. They want what the younger bird wants. They want his protection. Even in the enlightened nineties there ain’t many women who can survive without a man as well as they do with one.’

Donna sighed. ‘I never thought I would talk like this, Carol. I thought I had it all, and I did. But only because I was ignorant about most of it. No, not ignorant exactly. I was deliberately blind, deaf and dumb. The three wise monkeys had nothing on me. I’m only sorry we didn’t get more friendly over the years.’

The two women looked at each other, gazed deep into each other’s eyes.

‘I hated you for years,’ Carol admitted in a rush. ‘I hated your self-contained ways, your snooty hooter always stuck in the air. I hated the way you talked, acted. I hated you because I couldn’t be like you, no matter how I tried. I could only be me.’

Donna grasped the other woman’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I wish I was like yow, Carol. I mean that from the heart. At least you take what life gives you and you throw it back into its own jaws. You’re strong. A strong woman.’

Carol smiled. She saw Donna’s thick glossy hair and understated clothes. The curve of her small breasts covered by silk. She saw the slim legs, knew Donna wouldn’t have a real flaw on her body. No stretch marks, no varicose veins, no black roots.

‘You’re the strong one, Donna, if you only knew it. You had to be stronger than bleeding Arnold Schwarzenegger to keep a man like Georgio for twenty years. Don’t put yourself down, love. You’ve done a great job. Your strength is greater because you never knew you were fighting for Georgio. You never knew the competition.

‘I’ve watched out for it all my married life. Davey never even tried to hide it from me. I’ve found letters, phone numbers, smelt other women’s perfume, and washed off lipstick that ain’t mine. That’s why I watch him like a hawk nowadays. You’d be surprised at the silly little bitches who want a bit of excitement with a local villain, and that’s all Davey is to them. To me he’s Davey from Plaistow, Davey I went to school with, Davey I married, and Davey the father of my four kids. I was seven months pregnant when that bastard finally married me and I even had to fight for that. I’ve been fighting for him ever since.’

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Donna asked softly, ‘Was he worth it? All that fighting?’

Carol sat up straight and grinned, her hard countenance back in place once more. Carol the hard nut. Carol the villain’s wife. ‘Some nights when I laid in bed waiting for the bastard to come home, I wondered.’

‘And now?’ Donna’s voice was even softer.

Carol laughed ironically. ‘Now? Now it had better have been, darling, or I’ve wasted the best part of my bloody life.’

Donna didn’t laugh. She lit a cigarette and pulled deeply on it before saying, ‘He’s wasted his too then, if that’s the case, because if he didn’t want you, why is he still here?’

Carol bit on her lip and thought before she said seriously, ‘Because I’m the mother of his children, love. No long-legged bimbo can compete with that. I had my Jamie at forty-one to keep that fucker in his place. He idolises her, she’s his baby. That’s all I have going for me these days and I’m honest enough to admit it.’

Then you’ve got more going for you than I have, Carol.’

Carol could have bitten her tongue for what she had just said. Instead she shook her head sadly.

That’s what I was trying to tell you - you’ve kept Georgio without any shackles whatsoever. With a man like him, that’s no mean feat.

Donna stood up. ‘Oh, there were shackles, Carol. The only thing was, they were all on me.’ She walked unsteadily to the door-and opened it. ‘If you get any more thoughts on Sri Lanka, let me know, won’t you?’

Then she was gone, leaving Carol Jackson wishing she could sew up her big fat mouth. Running to the door, she opened it and called out to Donna, who was walking across the forecourt to her car.

‘Donna! If you need me, call. All right?’

Donna nodded. Waving in farewell, she carried on walking, unable to see the tarmac through the tears in her eyes.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Donald Lewis walked back on to the Wing full of smiles. He looked grey, older and ill. But he also looked more vicious than before. The steely glint was there to stay now, and the sunken cheeks and black-rimmed eyes only added to the overall look of menace. He walked with a slight stoop, his two sidekicks beside him like warriors. No one in the room would have guessed the pain and torture it was for Lewis to get himself in there. He looked around him, nodding here and there at different men. His only real smile was for Sadie. All he wanted was to get back to his cell and lie down, but he knew any show of weakness would be noticed and filed away for future reference. He sat gingerly in a chair and grinned at Georgio.

‘Hello.’

Georgio nodded. ‘How are you feeling?’

Lewis carried on smiling and said through his teeth, ‘How do you fucking think? My back feels like someone just ripped it open with a red-hot knife, but other than that I’m tickety boo as the big nobs say.’

Georgio looked at him in genuine concern. Up close he could see just how weak the man was, and against his better judgement said quietly, ‘Why don’t you go and have a lie down, Donald? You look fucking rough, mate. Seriously rough. There’s no one here who wants to match you in any way. Go and rest, man, before you do yourself a damage.’

Lewis grinned. ‘You make me die, Brunos. You nearly had me believing you there. I’ll survive. I lived through six bullets, mate. It’ll take more than the loss of a kidney to frighten me.’

Georgio shook his head sadly. ‘You survived the loss of a kidney, Donald, because of the medical help. Now you’re back on this Wing and you’re putting yourself under too much stress. Christ, you’ve just had a major operation, for fuck’s sake. Even you’re not God, you know. Even you must be aware of your own mortality. You wiped out Timmy, everyone’s over the shock. You’re still the king pin, so what the fuck are you trying to prove?’

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Lewis laughed again, only this time it was harsher, bringing all eyes to their table.

‘I’m proving once and for all that nothing can keep me down. Now let’s walk back to my cell together and you can fill me in on what’s been happening. I hear we have two interesting new occupants and I want you to tell me all you know about them, OK?’

Georgio nodded. Rising, he made the mistake of offering Lewis his help. His hand was knocked away with a ferocity that belied the man’s sorry condition.

The rec room watched them disappear through the door with the two minders in tow. Sadie laid her head on her arms and thought about Timmy and Lewis. Suddenly she felt a hand grasp hers and sat up in wonder. It was young Benjamin Dawes, the Wing joker.

‘Any chance of a bit of a laugh, Sade?’

Sadie looked into the young man’s eyes and felt a deep bitterness inside herself.

‘How long have you been away, Benjamin?’ she hissed. ‘A year on remand, and now what, three months in here, and already you’re an arsehole bandit? Let me give you a bit of advice, love. You’re in on a good one, I admit, but if you can’t control your urges you’ll end up with the real big one - HIV. There’s already three in here carrying the virus that I know of. Now you do yourself a favour, Sonny Jim. You make your right hand your best friend, and if you ever come on to me again I’ll shake your dick till it drops off and then I’ll wear it as a keepsake! Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Benjamin stood up, all youth and battered dignity. ‘I only fucking asked.’

Sadie, recovering her usual bravado, said in a camp voice: ‘I hope you treat the real girls better than you do me, sonny!’

The whole rec room cracked up with laughter. Benjamin stormed off, shouting: ‘Fucking queens, you’re all the same.’

Sadie rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Now there,’ she cried, ‘speaks the voice of experience.’

All the men laughed again, respecting Sadie for putting the young man in his place, all knowing that if the boy got caught up with Sadie this early in his sentence he’d be used and abused by the bigger men before he was paroled. In nick you had to be able to look after yourself to stop the raping and the abuse that went on behind cell doors. Especially when you were a youngster like Benjamin, who thought he knew it all and knew nothing really.

Sadie sat back in her chair once more, mind awhirl again with one thought.

Lewis was back. Lewis was back and acting as if nothing had happened.

Lewis had smiled, which meant they were still on, and Sadie could do nothing about it.

If young Benjamin were her only problem, how much easier life would be …

Lewis sat down on his bunk and Georgio perched himself at the small table.

‘So, Georgio, what’s been happening?’

He shrugged casually. This and that. There are a couple of nonces on the Wing here, as you no doubt know. I didn’t deal with them, I thought I’d let you have the pleasure of that. They’re paedophiles, little boys mostly but little girls as well. There’s a circle of them, been operating for years. They copped the big one, fifteen and eighteen respectively. They’re shite.’

Lewis closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

‘I know of them. The people we get in here, eh? What would we do with them if we administered justice ourselves? I .don’t know, Georgio. The Governor must have been off his fucking trolley to stick them in here with us. Who else knows about them?’

Georgio shook his head. ‘Sadie knows, but no one else has said a dicky bird. I’ve seen big Ricky eyeing them up, but nothing definite’s come from him. I thought he might just be trying to scare them, you know. The men are getting suspicious because the two of ‘em keep together and don’t discuss their cases, which in here is like a page three girl in a vest, ain’t it? No way would it happen. Everyone talks then-cases through, it’s the only way to cope in the first few months.’

Lewis raised his hand for silence. ‘What’s been said about Timmy?’

Georgio dropped his eyes. ‘You was out of order there and you know it. He didn’t deserve that, and that’s the general consensus from everyone. But knowing you like I do, I don’t suppose that’ll bother you too much. Let’s face it, Donald, you enjoy the notoriety, don’t you?’

Lewis grinned, showing small white teeth.

‘I had a fucking kidney cut out and you have the gall to sit there and tell me I was out of order! How long have I been away? Not three weeks, and you’re telling me what you think as if I’m some kind of cunt! I lost a kidney. That prick was lucky I was in the hospital when he got topped. I’d have tortured the ponce with my bare hands if I’d had my way.’

Georgio ran his hands through his thick dark hair and realised that for the first time since walking into Parkhurst, he wasn’t scared of

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Lewis. The guy was weak now. Like a dog sniffing at the leader of his pack, Georgio had discovered that Lewis was weaker than he’d thought … and that could only be to Georgio’s good.

‘Let’s be honest about this, Donald,’ he said firmly. ‘You topped Timmy because you needed to make sure the men didn’t forget you or what you’re capable of. I’m not disputing you took a blow, I know you did, but at the end of the day you wound Timmy up. You made him go for you. For the first time ever, someone tried to get back at you - and so you lost a kidney over a transvestite whore who couldn’t even pass these days for a rent boy. Why did you want him, Lewis? Why did you take Sadie away from Timmy? What was in it for you?’

Lewis grinned again, wider this time.

‘I took Sadie because I felt like it. Who was that bloke who said he climbed Everest because it was there? Well, that’s why I took Sadie from Timmy.’

Georgio sighed heavily. ‘You’re not all the ticket, do you know that?’

Lewis laughed again. ‘I am well aware of that fact, Georgio. It’s what gives me the edge. Another man who’d been through what I’ve just been through would still be being spoonfed slops in a hospital bed. Life is all about living, and living is all about being the best, being on top, and in this place that means being the hardest bastard around.

‘Now, back to the two nonces. What have they had to say for themselves?’

Georgio shrugged again.

‘Like I said before, not a lot. But if they’re going to be slaughtered, can I have the job?’

Eric drove the route for the jump with Alan. From Portsmouth they followed the M275 to Cobham and from there the A27 towards Drayton. At Drayton they picked up the A3 until they came to Horndean and drove for nearly an hour, chatting companionably until they arrived at the place Eric had picked out for the jump. It was a quiet patch of road bordered by countryside and parallel to a dirt road. It was also spectacularly beautiful. It was known as the Devil’s Punch Bowl.

Eric pulled over into a layby and smiled at Alan.

‘What do you think?’ he asked in his well-modulated tones.

Alan stepped out of the car and stood looking around him at the cars speeding past and the countryside.

‘It’s perfect.’

‘Better still, Al,’ Eric grinned as he joined him, ‘there’s a farm road

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them a little way down, that takes us on to a quiet country lane. It couldn’t be better, could it?’

Alan shook his head slowly. ‘It’s ideal. Fuck me, it’s brilliant! And you’re sure this is the route that the sweatbox will take?’

‘It’s the route, all right, they always take the same one. The local police know the score, see, they know the procedure for the laydowns. It’s easier than to keep replanning new routes. They’re convinced they have it off pat, and they have. But not for the GOAD, see? If Georgio can get himself removed from the nick then we’re all laughing. Because then there’s only the sweatbox to take care of. We can back and front it, take out the outriders and the police car if necessary. Then it’s just a case of getting the driver out of the vehicle because” he’ll have the key to the back doors. Georgio will be cuffed in a cubicle in the sweatbox. We need the door open and the police out as quick as possible. Then we can take your man out of it.’ Alan nodded, thinking deeply.

‘What about the other cars, though?’ he said. There’ll be motors queuing up once we block the road off.’

‘That’s exactly what we want, Alan. One man will take the car keys off the first three or four cars and dump them. That means once it’s all over the Old Bill will have trouble even getting to the scene of the crime, see? We’ll have scrambling bikes and be off over the road to the country lane by then. They’ll have so much to sort out it’ll be pandemonium, and that’ll give us precious minutes.’ Alan looked at the road as if visualising it all. Eric lit a cigar and pointed in the direction of their car. ‘I’ll explain it all now, briefly. We’ll be over there waiting in the farm roadway with a skip lorry, right? No one will know we’re there from the road.’ He pointed to the left of him. ‘The Mercedes van will be parked up over there, as if it’s broken down. We’ll have a Police Aware notice on it and everything. In the back of the Merc will be three scrambling bikes.

‘As the sweatbox arrives, the skip lorry will pull out and we’ll pull out at the same time. That’s how we’ll back and front it. There will be two minutes before the Old Bill collect themselves, maybe more, but we’re working on two minutes to be on the safe side. We all pile out with the guns. I’ll take the Armalite and go to the front of the sweatbox. The driver will shit himself once he sees it. I’ll blow two or three holes in the windscreen, then pour in some petrol. I’ll threaten to burn him alive if he doesn’t get out of the van.

‘Meanwhile,’ Eric went on, taking another pull on his cigar, ‘you, Jonnie H. and his boys will be all over the place. One of the men takes the car keys, the others are sorting out the outriders and/or the police

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car. We’ll need to shoot out the tyres immediately they stop, the outriders and the main ones. They’re on bikes and they can cause us hag, be off and out of it within seconds - so they’re the important ones. I’ll say shoot to wound not kill, but it’ll be so mad here, Christ knows what’ll happen.

‘Once the shooters go off, especially the Armalite, we should get some good cooperation. I can’t guarantee it, though. You know what people are like when they’re shit-scared. They could go one way or the other. However, once they’re all taken care of, we’re laughing.

‘Meanwhile, I’m dealing with the bloke out of the sweatbox. Remember - only the driver will have the key to the doors. It always works like that. He alone knows the procedure for opening them. You see, the lock is like a safe - You turn the keys in special positions; The driver will know them off pat. So, I get him to open the doors, we chin the guards inside, lock them in - and we’re off! I’ll take Georgio on the bike with me.

‘We all shoot across the field and over to the country lane, going in the opposite direction from the one they’re expecting us to take, because there’s a crossroads there. They’ll expect us to be moving away from the way they came, but in fact we’ll be going in the opposite direction until we come to Gibbet Hill about a quarter of a mile away. We’ll dump the bikes there, run over the railway bridge on foot, and that’s where the safe cars are. We strip off the boiler suits and balaclavas, dump the guns. Georgio slips into the foot rest at the front of the first car, we let him go with you or me, whatever. The rest go in the second car and then it’s up to you for the actual safe houses and all the rest.

‘The railway bridge is an excellent scam,’ he told Alan enthusiastically. ‘It’s got high brick walls everywhere in case the Old Bill decide to follow with shooters. We can be over it and off in no time. I’ll let off a few rounds of the Armalite as we begin to run. That way they’ll know we’re well-armed. But myself I don’t think we’ll be followed by them. If jwe are, they got a lucky strike, and they’ll be woodentops anyway out here. Not worth a wank. So what do you think, Alan?’ 4 Alan had listened with interest and growing excitement. Now he grinned widely at Eric.

‘I think it’s fucking excellent, mate. Excellent. It’s as sweet as a nut.’

‘Eric was pleased. Throwing his cigar on to the roadway, he stamped it out.

‘I’ve already got the bailies and the boiler suits. I’ve also purchased five red poloneck sweaters. We’ll cut the tops out and just wear them - that way, any witnesses will describe us all the same: red sweaters,