She’s Out

Chapter 20

Angela, as instructed by Dolly, had caught the first train back to the manor. She had not used the local station but the mainline station, again as instructed by Dolly, who didn’t want Angela getting off the train into a swarm of cops. She simply used the excuse that, as it would be so early, Angela wouldn’t be able to get a cab at the local station so it was better to use the main-line one.

Angela arrived back at the manor at eight o’clock. The girls were about to run upstairs but she told them to stay quiet and not to wake up the house. She set about preparing breakfast, the girls laying the table and helping her.

Angela hadn’t known any of the women to sleep in so late and she asked one of the girls to check if Helen of Troy was in the stable, wondering if they had all gone out for an early ride. The girls remained outside, calling back that Helen was in the stable. Angela fried eggs and bacon, sausages and some cold potatoes. It was all keeping warm in the oven when the women came down, bleary-eyed and still wearing their dressing gowns.

‘Hi! Had a late night, did you?’ Angela asked, as she started getting out the plates.

‘Yeah, we had a bit of a night,’ Gloria muttered.

‘Aren’t you going riding today?’ Angela asked. It was unusual for them not to be up and out by now.

‘No. Stables have got some kids’ party so we can’t,’ Ester said as she creaked into her chair.

‘There was something going on at the station,’ Angela said as she served the eggs and bacon.

‘Oh, yeah, what?’ Gloria asked, as she poured the tea.

‘I dunno, but there were loads of police and all along the lanes were more patrol cars. They even stopped us in the taxi.’

‘You don’t say,’ said Julia, as she buttered her toast, and then asked casually if the morning paper had arrived.

She passed it over. ‘It’s got nothing in it.’

Dolly walked in, her hair in pin curls. Unlike the others she was dressed. ‘Angela love, go and get the girls inside. They’re getting filthy out there in the yard.’

Angela went out without argument and Dolly sat down. She reached for the teapot, was just about to pour a cup when the sirens wailed. ‘Well, here they come,’ she said quietly.

They all watched her as she continued to pour the tea. The front door bell echoed through the house, and Angela opened the back door. ‘There’s police all over the place! They’re up in the woods.’

Dolly looked at Ester, jerking her head. ‘Go see what they want.’

Ester hesitated only a moment before she pulled her dressing gown closer and they could hear her flip-flop slippers as she went into the hall.

The police were searching every house within a five-mile radius of the station and that included every outhouse, stable and barn, every greenhouse. Every standing building was being searched from top to bottom, and the Thames Valley police pulled in every man possible to sweep the area. Scotland Yard’s Robbery Squad were already at the scene of the raid as hundreds more officers were drafted in to the immediate area to assist in the search. No vehicle had been found, no witness; the raid appeared to have happened without a single person seeing it.

The police interviewed the women and they all stated they were at home together the entire evening, went to bed at around eleven fifteen. They had heard nothing and kept up a bewildered act that might have been up for an Oscar, as they asked what had happened. A murder? A rape? A kidnapping? But they were told nothing as the uniformed officers began the search outside. They searched every cupboard, every chest and wardrobe, the roof, the chimneys, under the floorboards, the sauna area. The police were polite, diligent and stayed there for almost eight hours until they had to move on. They found nothing.

By lunchtime the press had arrived and now it was headlines in the evening papers: the biggest train robbery in history had taken place and Thames Valley were using more than four hundred officers to comb the entire area. By now the police knew that a man masquerading as a police officer had daringly held up the train, and the robbery had been committed by possibly five or six men. They had been armed, and the public were warned that if they should have any evidence or suspect anyone, they were to act with caution as the men were deemed to be dangerous. The owner of the speed-boat had been arrested but released after questioning. The signal box attendant, Jim, had also been questioned and released as the police drew up the lists of suspects. They had, as yet, found no evidence, and had no clues as to the present whereabouts of the stolen money. The amount was not disclosed.

The women did not dare believe they had got away with it as the searches and questioning never ceased throughout the first three days after the robbery. Helen of Troy had been examined but not taken in for questioning, as Julia joked with the police.

Everyone in the area who owned a horse was contacted. Even the local stables were questioned and their horses examined but the train driver could only describe the horse that had been standing on the line as shiny and black. The rain-soaked cape had made Helen of Troy appear that colour but as she was chestnut brown, it let her off the hook.

Every day they came and went away. Dolly knew she was a prime suspect but, if she was, they didn’t take her down to the station for questioning. They didn’t take any of them in; they just continued to comb the area. Norma’s cottage became a stop-over for the locals to drop in for tea. She had arrived home on the morning of the raid and, although she had invited a search, hers was the only house that was not done over. They had a look at her three-year-old hunter, but she assured them he was in no way capable of riding across live cables. She suggested they maybe try the nearest circus.

The officers had laughed. It was the audaciousness of the crime that couldn’t help but hook them all in. It was called the Wild West Hold-up by the Sun and from then on every paper referred to the raid in jokey cowboy terms.

In some ways Norma was disappointed that when all the excitement had gone down — a raid at her local station no less — she had been on duty outside a cinema in the West End for some big charity. The crowds had got out of hand and she had been called in with two other officers, but nothing untoward had happened apart from a soaking as it had rained all night long. By now she had replaced her cape and hat but it had been a long, boring, wet night.

The police now believed that more than one horse had been involved. They had discovered the scattered hoof-prints in and around the lake but, as the riding school took pony treks up that way, it became more and more difficult to ascertain how many there were, let alone from which direction they had come. The women had been using the same routes as the stables so the ground was covered in hoofprints and droppings.

There still remained the fact that not one vehicle had been traced or stopped by the road blocks, put up within ten minutes of the raid. But as the motorway was only a short distance from some of the narrow lanes, they could not exclude the possibility that the robbers could have got through.

The village was agog, the lanes filled with sight-seeing tourists who hampered the police, as did the riders from all the local stables. The ribbons to cordon off certain areas were removed at night but officers were retained on day-and-night duty, digging up wells, searching every inch of the railway lines, every tunnel and pothole, every drainpipe left on the surface of the ground.

On the fourth day, Dolly almost had a fit when she saw John and his workmen filling the skip over the lime pit. They were stacking it with rubble from the old greenhouse. It remained half filled and she just hoped that by the time it was moved, the lime pit would have done its job.

The women gardened, hoed the vegetable patches, cut back and pruned trees, appearing busy and unfazed by the continued search. But the paranoia was starting. They were worried about the dustbin liners filled with money and they couldn’t understand why they hadn’t been found. Did the police know about them? Were they waiting for them to collect them?

Julia was eventually instructed to visit Norma, just to suss out the safety of their precious money. She had severe doubts when she called on her because, as Norma opened the door, she could see three uniformed coppers sitting in her kitchen. ‘Hi! Long time no see,’ Julia said breezily.

‘I meant to call you,’ Norma said, stepping back. ‘Come on in, coffee’s on.’

‘No, I won’t. You’ve got company.’ Julia remained on the doorstep but gave a loose wave to the men who stared at her.

‘Don’t be stupid, come on in.’

‘Another time,’ Julia said, but the officers appeared behind Norma. They had all been at the manor at one time or another and were pleasant to Julia, who was still standing on the doorstep.

‘Thanks for the coffee, Norma.’ They began to file out and Norma looked at Julia. ‘Go in, help yourself.’ Julia hesitated and then went into Norma’s hall. She stood watching as Norma hurried down the path. The officers stopped and turned towards her, as she called after them, ‘It’s just a thought. You wanna walk round the back with me?’

They seemed a bit puzzled but realized she wanted to say something so followed her round the side of the house out of sight of the front door.

‘Look, I know this might sound odd, but have you searched my barn?’

They grinned. ‘Why? You telling us you got the money, Norma?’

‘No, I’m serious. It’s just that I don’t think you have. I know you’ve been in the stables and backyard but has anyone checked out my big barn?’

They saw she was serious. ‘Why?’

Norma kept her voice low, stuffing her hands in her pockets. ‘Well, I dunno. That bunch from the manor, they’re all ex-cons, you know. She’s one of them.’ Norma looked back along the path. ‘I just remembered she asked if she could store some gear and I said she could. I just hadn’t expected quite so much, so have a look for yourselves.’

Norma unlocked the barn door and opened it. The officers peered inside to see stacks and stacks of black rubbish bags tied tightly at the neck. They went in further as Norma hung back. ‘Look, you have a search around. I’ll go back and keep her talking, just in case.’

Julia moved fast, her heart pounding. She almost flew down Norma’s cellar steps, checking to see if anything had been moved, if there was any possible way the bricked-up cellar chute had been damaged. She, peered into the small, dark cellar. ‘Stupid, don’t be so bloody stupid,’ she muttered to herself. It was bricked up and even had stacks of boxes pushed up against it. Just as her heart slowed down, it started hammering again as feet crunched on the gravel outside. She could hear them talking and her whole body broke out in a sweat. She didn’t want to be obvious, didn’t dare go outside, but they were standing right by the coal chute door. Would they see that it had been dislodged and replaced?

Julia tried to keep her breathing regular but she was panting. The voices continued, but she could not make out what they were saying. She went back upstairs and to the kitchen window. Norma was smiling as she headed away from the barn with the police officers. Her hand shook as she poured the coffee and she spun round when Norma breezed in through the back door. ‘You want a biscuit?’ she asked brightly.

‘Nope, I’ve not got much time. I’ve got to get back, help out, the builders are provin’ a bit expensive so we’re doing a lot ourselves and you know what it’s like. Moan, moan, who’s doing their fair share becomes the high point of every meal.’

Norma poured more coffee. I’m not good at lying, Julia thought, it’s written all over my face. ‘What are you doing to me, Norma? Shopping me to your friends?’

Norma gave a big false laugh. ‘No, they just asked if they could look over the barn.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ Julia said, and Norma looked up sharply. ‘I feel awful. You’ve got a whole barnful of Mother’s things, but I’ve sold the house and... you did say I could use the barn.’

The back door opened and one of the officers stood leaning on the doorframe. ‘Thanks, Norma, we’re on our way.’

Norma jumped up and hurried to the door. ‘Any problems?’ The officer shook his head and went down the path to where his mates were waiting.

Julia pushed back her chair noisily. ‘Thanks for the coffee. Maybe we can have dinner one night?’

Norma flushed. ‘Sure. I’m back in London for the next part of the week but maybe after, when I come back.’

‘Scared of being seen with me in front of your pals, are you?’

Norma flushed even deeper. ‘No, of course not, but right now this place is like Scotland Yard. The world and its mother is down here and they keep on dropping in.’

Julia walked down the narrow hallway. ‘Yeah. They’re dropping in a lot at our place, too, but they don’t get quite so warm a welcome. See you, then.’

Norma wanted to say something — she did feel guilty — but Julia had already walked out, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her old hacking jacket, and she didn’t turn back, smile or even wave. ‘Two-faced cow,’ she muttered as she turned into the lane. But then she stopped. This was dumb — they needed that bitch. She smiled at Norma as she stood at her door and walked back over to her, cupping her face in her hands. ‘Stay cool, darlin’, nobody really gives a fuck who you screw. If it’s me, so what? I like you, Norma, don’t turn away from me. Don’t make me not trust you.’

Norma leaned against her a moment, and whispered that she was sorry. ‘Please see me when I come back next week. Please?’

Julia was smiling as she backed down the path. ‘Can’t wait until then. You take care now.’ She wanted to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She hated the touch of Norma now, and the sooner they got their cash and left the district the better. But at least the money was still safe, for a while anyway.

They were all lulled into a false sense of security as the days passed and even the newspapers no longer screamed out headlines about the robbery. It was now slipping back to pages five and six. They all remained at the manor, waiting. Dolly continued to make them work around the grounds and the house, continually on show.

Gloria took more and more interest in the children. She was wonderful at making up games and puzzles. She had unending patience with them but, like all the others, the waiting was getting to her.

Julia rode every day and sometimes encouraged one of the others to take Helen out, but Dolly was wary of letting the police see that they could all ride so even that created arguments. Julia had started drinking heavily in the evenings because she had sold her mother’s house and still had a few hundred left over after paying the bills at the nursing home. She was generous and gave them all a few quid but spent most on vodka and always had a half-bottle close at hand.

Ester was the moodiest. She stayed in bed until midday, refusing to help out as she felt it was all a waste of time. Connie began to work out for hours in their gym. She kept well away from John and even further away from Jim. She painted her nails, bleached her hair, content to spend the time daydreaming of a successful career in the movies. She was planning to go to Hollywood with her share of the money, and the dressing-table mirror became the cameras. This amused Connie but annoyed everyone else as she swanned around.

Jim had been questioned so many times his nerves were in shreds but he never at any time disclosed to the police that Connie had spent time with him in the signal box. He did this not to protect her but his job. In the end he had to take two weeks’ leave as his nerves were so bad, and was given sedatives and sleeping tablets by his doctor.

Evenings were spent watching television and videos. The days and nights dragged on but Dolly would never mention the robbery. She continued to impress Julia. She was like a rock: calm and always pleasant, trying to keep their nerves from fraying.

One evening Ester freaked and started yelling that she wanted her cut, she wanted to leave, and if the others wanted to stay then they could.

‘You stay here, Ester, we all stay here until the cops clear the place. If it’s weeks or months, we stay on, and we divide it up when I say so and not before.’ Dolly was icy calm, her eyes flicking from one woman to the other. ‘Let it all out now because nothing will change my mind. You knew this was going to be the way it went down. Just wait.’

Angela loved the house. She didn’t mind working in it or the gardens and she adored the little girls, who were filling out, rosy-cheeked and boisterous, the only people unaware of the growing tension and the reason for it.

DCI Craigh and his men had read the reports on the robbery in the papers and heard about it from mates connected to the Robbery Squad at Scotland Yard. They had early on given the tip-off regarding the women, especially their interaction with Dolly Rawlins. DI Palmer had actually roared with laughter as Craigh had read out the details of the scam and wondered if Rawlins could possibly have any connection with it.

‘Oh, yeah! she’s a real Annie Get Your Gun, Gov. I mean, can you see that frosty-faced bitch riding a horse? That’s how they reckon it was done, you know. Rawlins’s got to be over fifty, near sixty.’

Craigh pulled a face but he had sent in a report. He received no feedback so presumed she must have been questioned and dismissed as a suspect. Still, he wondered whether if she had not played a part in it, maybe she knew who had, but this was not his department and he had other, more pressing things to worry about. One in particular. George Fuller, Dolly Rawlins’s lawyer, having received no reply to his original letter regarding the damage to Rawlins’s property, now sent in a reminder, requesting an update. Craigh was confronted by his irate chief as he, too, had received a memo from his superior. The ten-thousand-pound claim was ludicrous, and Craigh insisted that no way had they created anywhere near that amount of damage. He had hoped it would simply be forgotten, though it obviously hadn’t. He was told to discuss it further with Mrs Rawlins, and if necessary get an estimate of their own before any money was paid out. Craigh and Palmer reckoned that if they confronted Rawlins, she would probably back down. They could offer her a deal, perhaps a quarter of the estimated damages.

The women were all watching television. It was early evening, and the girls were being bathed and changed ready for bed. They were more tense than usual because the police had returned yet again and the skip covering the lime pit had been removed, leaving only the corrugated iron sheets in place. Gloria had eased a part of the sheet back and prodded inside. She had felt a thick wedge about three feet down but she was satisfied the mail bags had disintegrated. But it still made them all uneasy.

Out riding and not far from the bridge, Julia had seen the frogmen diving and searching the lake. She hoped it was too deep for them to discover the shotguns but, on her return, she asked Gloria if she was sure that if they were found there would be nothing to incriminate anyone, no fingerprints, no serial numbers.

They all were certain they had never handled the guns without gloves and Gloria recalled that she had cleaned them thoroughly before the raid. However, the pressure of the hunt getting so close made the tension, a constant undercurrent, surface again. Dolly continued to calm them, telling them everything going on was only to be expected. But they were all volatile, tempers flared easily, and when, two nights later, the lights of the patrol car flared across the window, they immediately tensed.

Dolly peered through the curtain and drew it back tight. ‘It’s cops and not local. It’s that DCI Craigh and his sidekick.’

‘What do they want?’ Gloria asked; she sounded scared.

‘We’ll find out. All of you get in the kitchen and stay there. Let me talk to them. Just stay in the kitchen.’

DCI Craigh examined the front door and looked at Palmer. ‘How much she claim for this? I reckon this stained glass was already broken.’

Palmer looked at the door and stepped back. ‘They done the roof. Place is looking good.’

‘Yeah, be looking a lot better if she gets that ten grand.’

Craigh rang the doorbell and the lights flooded on in the hall. He peered through a broken pane. Dolly was coming towards the front door. Just as she opened it, the children came running down the stairs in their slippers and dressing gowns.

‘Come in,’ Dolly said pleasantly, and opened the door wider for Craigh and Palmer to walk past her. They looked at Angela as she came half-way down the stairs with a bath towel in her hands. ‘Go into the drawing room.’ Dolly gestured, and the men nodded at Angela before entering.

‘I’ll just say goodnight then I’ll be right with you.’ Dolly was kissing Sheena and picking her up in her arms.

‘Will you tell us a story?’ Sheena piped up and Dolly said she couldn’t just at that minute but Angela would. She stood at the bottom of the stairs as they ran along the landing to their bedroom. ‘Night, night, Auntie Dolly.’

The kitchen door remained closed and Dolly glanced at herself in the hall mirror.

Craigh looked around the untidy room. A fire was burning low in the grate. ‘Great old house this, isn’t it?’ he remarked.

Palmer looked up at the high honeycombed ceiling. ‘Yeah, needs a lot done, though. These old places always cost a bundle.’

‘Bloody cold.’ Craigh rubbed his hands. He sniffed, taking in the torn velvet curtains and the threadbare carpet. Obviously there was not a lot of cash floating around. ‘Whose kids were they?’

‘Dunno,’ Palmer said, as he sat down on a lumpy old sofa. He rose to his feet immediately as Dolly walked in and closed the door.

‘So, what do you want?’

Craigh looked at Palmer, cleared his throat. ‘It’s about that claim for the damage we’re supposed to have done to your property, Mrs Rawlins.’

Dolly moved further into the room and she couldn’t stop the smile. Because it was one of such relief.

Ester drummed her fingers on the kitchen table, her eyes on the closed door. ‘What you reckon they want?’

Julia poured herself a big vodka. ‘We’ll find out soon enough. Any of you want a drink?’

‘No, and you’re hitting the bottle a bit too hard.’ Ester pushed back her chair angrily.

‘Where you going?’ Gloria asked Ester.

‘To the toilet, if that’s all right with you.’ Ester opened the kitchen door silently and peered into the hall.

‘Don’t go in there, Ester,’ Connie said hesitantly, but she was already out, listening at the drawing room door.

Craigh was still standing with his back to the fire, and Dolly was sitting in a big, old winged armchair. She gave a soft laugh. ‘So what you here for? You want to make a deal, is that it?’

Ester froze. The kitchen door opened wider and Gloria peeped out. Ester hurried across, pushing her inside. ‘She’s making a fucking deal with them,’ she hissed.

‘What?’ Julia said in disbelief.

‘I just heard her. Connie, get out the back and see if they’re alone — see if they got any back-up. Go on, do it.’

Connie opened the back door and slipped out. Gloria had dodged behind Ester and gone into the hall to listen for herself. Ester followed and pulled at her arm. ‘Go and search her room,’ she whispered. Gloria glared but Ester pushed her hard, pressing her ear against the door.

Dolly’s voice could be heard clearly. ‘No way! You must be joking. I’ll do a deal but not for a quarter. Let’s say half.’

Craigh looked at Palmer and then back to Dolly. ‘You’ll get it in cash.’

‘Oh, it has to be cash,’ Dolly said. She got up from the chair and moved closer to Craigh. ‘Fifty per cent.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Craigh said louder.

Ester dived back into the kitchen as Gloria scuttled down the stairs after her.

‘Look at this lot! Fucking passports — she’s got Kathleen’s kids on hers and there’s one for Angela.’

Julia could feel her legs turning to jelly. ‘Oh, shit.’

Ester pushed at Julia. ‘She’s doing a deal for fifty per cent of the cash, I just heard her. She’s going to shop the lot of us! How much proof do you want?’

Ester shoved the passports under Julia’s nose and then looked back at the closed door. ‘Right. We got to get that money. You, Julia, get Gloria’s car, get over to Norma’s, take Gloria with you.’

Connie came back in from the yard shaking. There are police in the lane with dogs and some up in the woods but they’re not heading towards us, they’re just sort of patrolling as usual.’

‘Shit.’ Ester walked to the deep freeze and opened it. She delved inside, brought out a huge twenty-pound frozen turkey and carried it to the sink, turning on the hot water. Julia was putting on her coat, heading for the back door, as Ester removed a .45 pistol from the inside of the bird. She dug further inside and brought out the cartridges.

Julia grabbed her wrist. ‘Jesus Christ, Ester, what are you doing?’

‘She’s selling us right down the river! What the hell do you think I’m doing? Go and get the money, get as much as you can, and we’re getting out of here. I said we couldn’t trust her! I warned you! Now do it.’

Again Julia hesitated but Gloria gave her a shove. ‘I’ll come with you, let’s go.’

Dolly was chuckling at Craigh as he tried to deal, and then she patted his arm. ‘All right, you win, gimme three grand and we’ll call it quits. You should have been a market trader, you know. But it’s got to be cash.’

On Dolly’s last line, just as she placed her hand on Craigh’s arm, Ester walked in, the gun held in her right hand, her arm pressed close to her body.

Dolly turned, smiling towards Ester. She was feeling so good and confident because she knew now they had nothing to worry about. Craigh and Palmer weren’t there because of the robbery and she couldn’t wait to have a laugh about it with them all. Then she saw the gun. It was all over within seconds. Dolly was faster to register Ester’s intention than either police officer and, as she lifted the gun to fire at Craigh, Dolly moved forward, protecting him with her body as she screamed one word. ‘No!’

She felt the scorching red-hot explosion as if it came from inside her, and her blood splattered Ester’s face, making DCI Craigh take an involuntary step backwards, arms up to brace himself as if he was to be hit next. Palmer side-stepped at the same time and red dots of Dolly’s blood speckled his shirt. Ester’s body was rigid, her teeth clenched, her arm still outstretched. She pulled the trigger again. The second bullet spun Dolly a half-step backwards and everything began to blur. She could hear a distant, distorted voice and she saw her own face.

‘I have never committed a criminal act in my life.’ The board of directors looked towards the straight-backed Dorothy Rawlins.

Ester fired the third bullet.

‘No, I killed someone who betrayed me, there’s a difference, Julia.’

Ester pulled the trigger again.

No pain now, she was urging her horse forward, loving the feel of the cold morning air on her face, enjoying the fact that she had succeeded in learning not only to ride but gallop flat out and jump hedges and ditches — at her age.

Ester fired again, her terror growing with every fragmented second.

Dolly’s shirt was seeping blood and she still remained on her feet, but the impact of the fourth shot had, yet again, forced her backwards. The images and echoes of voices were fainter and she could only just make out the figure in an old brown coat standing by a garden gate. ‘It’s me, Dorothy, it’s your auntie. Your mum won’t talk about it but that young lad, he’s no good. You got a good life ahead of you, grammar-school scholarship.’

At the sixth bullet, her body buckled at the knees, her hands hanging limply at her sides. ‘I’ll always be here for you, Doll, you know that. I’ll always love you, take care of you. Come on, open your arms wide and hold me, hold me, sweetheart, that’s my girl. Come on, come to me, it’s all over now.’

At last she lay still. In death her face looked older: there was no expression — it was already a mask. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes were wide, staring sightlessly. The shooting had taken only the time it took for Ester to fire six shots at point-blank range, but in those seconds Dolly Rawlins’s life flashed from the present to the past. She had died a violent death like her beloved husband. She had not been expecting it; she had been confident, proud of herself and looking forward to a future, looking to make her dreams of a children’s home come true. Maybe that had all been a fantasy, maybe this was how it was meant to end. Fate had drawn these women together, and it was fate that it was Ester who killed her, Ester, who she had never really trusted. She had taken such care of them all, checking her back and sides just like Harry had done. And yet, like him, she had faced death straight on, face forward.

Now her cheek lay on the old, dirty, stained carpet, blood trickling from her mouth and her body lying half curled in the foetal position. Her death had been as ugly as her husband’s, the only difference being that she had never betrayed anyone.

The sound of the shots brought the officers in the woods running towards the house, shouting into their radios as the others in the lane turned back towards the manor. A patrol car had already received the call and they in turn radioed for further assistance.

Within minutes, the manor was surrounded. Gloria and Julia were hauled out of the Mini, Connie was arrested halfway up the stairs, and Ester was handcuffed to DCI Craigh. She said not one word but stared vacantly ahead, her face drained of colour.

One by one the women were led to the waiting patrol cars and taken away. They were in a state of shocked confusion. None of them spoke or looked at each other.

Dolly Rawlins lay where she had been shot, a deep, dark pool of blood spreading across the threadbare carpet. She had been covered by a sheet taken from the linen closet. It was covered in bloodstains. Angela sat huddled with the little girls. They had heard the gunfire but did not understand what had taken place. For the time being, Angela was allowed to remain with the children but down stairs the house was full of movement and police, plain-clothed and uniformed, were outside in the grounds, watching the women being led out.

Dolly Rawlins’s body was removed, after a doctor had testified she was dead, and taken directly to the mortuary. Angela saw the stretcher from the little girls’ bedroom window. They stared down, not understanding, and then Sheena asked Angela if she would read their favourite story, The Three Little Piggies.

The big bad wolf huffed and he puffed but no matter how hard he tried, he could not blow the house down.’ The tears trickled down Angela’s face as she closed the book. It was the end of the story.

The old coal chute at Norma’s Rose Cottage, with its door dated 1842, was never opened by the police. Cemented into the wall and bricked in from the cellar, there seemed little point. It remained a rather kitsch feature of the ‘olde worlde’ cottage. Therefore no one discovered the sixteen black bin liners, each tied tightly at the neck, each containing millions of pounds in untraceable notes. Sixteen heavy-duty, black bin liners, tied tightly at the neck.