Widows

Chapter 24

Dolly was waiting in her Mercedes in the car park of the Little Chef, just off the A23 road to Brighton. Wolf was asleep on the passenger seat. She’d parked at the far end, but she still had a clear view of the entrance and car park. She was becoming impatient; she’d been there for over half an hour, and he was late. Nervously tapping the briefcase on her lap, she looked around, feeling edgy. Was he was going to turn up at all?

To keep herself occupied, she got out her notebook and flipped through it, going over the last details of the robbery and things yet to be done. She sighed. Linda still hadn’t got a suitable van to act as the front blocking vehicle. Dolly understood that Linda must be under considerable stress after what she’d told her about Carlos, but she was smart enough to know when something was serious. And Carlos being in Arnie’s pocket and his bed was very serious. Dolly could never be one hundred percent sure of any of her girls but she had to trust Linda now. She wondered whether Linda had had the sense to disguise her voice when she called the police to grass on Carlos...

Suddenly, she slammed her fist on the briefcase, jolting Wolf awake. ‘Where the hell are you?’ she shouted. ‘Come on, you bastard. You’d never have kept Harry waiting like this.’ The problem with this meeting was that if it didn’t happen, the job was off — simple as that. She’d called Brian Marshall and said she worked for Harry Rawlins. Although he was dead, she was collecting debts owed on behalf of his family. Marshall had sounded doubtful on the phone, but had reluctantly agreed to meet, although he could just as easily have decided to run and Dolly would have had no idea how to track him down.

As she sat there, wondering how on earth she would tell the others, a Rover entered the car park and stopped on the other side. Dolly waited to make sure that the car, whoever it was, was alone and hadn’t been followed, ever wary of a trap.

Brian Marshall had already drunk half a flask of brandy by the time he pulled up, but was still shaking as he looked around: he had no idea what to expect, or who the contact was. Fortunately for Dolly, he’d decided that failure to turn up would be disastrous for him. His hand reached to his pocket for the flask of brandy, and took another swig. He felt disgusted with himself.

Brian Marshall’s drinking went hand in glove with his gambling and, ten years ago, he had drifted from the legitimate casinos into Arnie Fisher’s club, where the higher stakes attracted him. It was there he’d met Harry Rawlins. Harry was charming, always friendly and seemed interested in how Brian was and what he was doing for work. During one drunken conversation, Brian revealed that he was married to the sister of the owner of Samson’s, one of the country’s biggest security firms. From this point forward, Brian was in big trouble — not that he’d been aware of it.

Rawlins had continued to act like Brian’s friend, lending him money, encouraging him to gamble beyond his means. Brian had no idea how dangerous Harry was, until the night he had drunkenly allowed Harry Rawlins to pick up a seven-thousand-pound gambling marker to Arnie Fisher. Then Brian had belonged to Harry.

Rawlins waited patiently. It wasn’t until nearly a year later that he demanded Brian pay off the debt — money he knew Brian didn’t have. In return for canceling the debt, and a seven-thousand-pound cash gift on top, all Rawlins wanted was to be told the different routes Samson’s security wagons took when delivering large sums of cash. They regularly changed the routes as a security measure, and often at short notice. Rawlins promised to leave Marshall alone for good if he helped on this one job.

Terrified and under pressure, Marshall had had no option. He’d hoped against hope that Rawlins would be as good as his word and would leave him alone once the job was done. When he’d read of the botched robbery and Rawlins’s death, he had heaved a sigh of relief — but then he’d had the phone call. Scared that the meeting with this mysterious woman was about something much more sinister than the debt, Brian checked the envelope he’d tucked down the side of his seat. He’d come prepared. The passenger door opened, making him jump. A woman wearing dark glasses and carrying a briefcase got into his car.

Dolly could smell the booze straight away. She looked in disgust at Marshall’s red face, blotched from years of alcohol abuse. The collar of his pin-striped suit was covered in dandruff.

‘I’m not here for the seven thousand,’ she said, looking straight ahead.

Marshall closed his eyes. If she didn’t want the cash, then she wanted something much worse. ‘I knew it would happen again,’ Marshall whimpered. ‘It’s my brother-in-law’s security firm. This’ll break him!’

Dolly maintained her composure. Marshall was clearly terrified of her and she had to keep it that way to get what she wanted. She noted the child’s seat in the back of the car. Mr. Marshall will do as he’s asked, she thought.

‘There’s ten grand here,’ she said, flipping open the briefcase on her lap. Marshall’s eyes widened at the rows and rows of banknotes. She snapped the case shut again. ‘That’s more than you were offered last time.’

‘I was promised that last time was the last time,’ Marshall whined. ‘Rawlins gave me his word! He said he’d let me off the hook and—’

‘Rawlins is dead.’ As the words left Dolly’s mouth, her heart jolted, but she couldn’t let Marshall see how much those words hurt her. ‘Even though three men died, you still got paid seven grand. And Harry Rawlins picked up your marker.’

‘You said you weren’t here for the seven thousand!’

‘If you keep to your side of the bargain, I’m not. If you don’t keep to your side of the bargain—’

‘Bollocks!’ interrupted Marshall. He looked at the hard bitch of a woman sitting next to him. He didn’t know who she was or who she worked for, but he disliked her intensely. He could feel the brandy giving him confidence. ‘I’m broke, so you can demand money all you like; I don’t have it to give. And I can’t get the delivery routes again because my brother-in-law’s upped his security. So — what can you do?’

Dolly stared at Brian, unblinking. ‘If you don’t keep to your side of the bargain,’ she continued as if Marshall hadn’t interrupted at all, ‘the debt gets sold back to the Fisher brothers. You do know the Fisher brothers, don’t you, Mr. Marshall?’

Instantly, the boldness instilled by the brandy ebbed away and the blood drained from Marshall’s face. He didn’t know the Fishers personally, but their reputation was enough.

Dolly continued, ‘Give me the route, your seven-grand debt goes away and, when the job’s done, you get this ten grand in cash. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity. The Fisher’s won’t be so kind.’ She opened the passenger door and got out, taking the briefcase with her, glancing very obviously at the baby seat as she slammed the door.

Marshall’s mouth trembled as he squeezed the leather steering wheel. Dolly walked away, her stride was even and controlled: she didn’t give a damn about him or his family. He found his hand on the car key in the ignition. It would be easy to knock the bitch down, steal the briefcase and disappear for good. The thought was fleeting — Marshall was a coward.

Taking the brandy flask from his pocket again, he drank it down, thinking of his wife and kids. The tears welled up and the pressure in his head was almost painful. Then he heard that voice inside, the one that spoke every time he took a drink. Everything was all right, his brother-in-law was insured, he was the family drunk, the charity case. No one would expect anything less even if they did find out. And he desperately needed that money! Ten thousand pounds... He could pay off all his debts with it; maybe even start up his own business.

As Dolly got back to her Merc, her heart was beating so fast she thought she was going to faint. God knows how she had walked so calmly across the endless car park, but she couldn’t let Marshall see how worried she was. ‘Stay upright, Dolly,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘Stay upright.’ As she got to her car, she put the suitcase on the roof and leaned her back against the door. From where Marshall was parked, it would look as though she was relaxed, waiting for his decision. In reality, she was leaning against her car to stop herself from falling over. Little Wolf watched Dolly from the passenger seat, probably wondering why she wasn’t getting back in beside him.

On the other side of the car park, Marshall didn’t move. Come on, Dolly thought. Come on. Had she been too threatening? Not threatening enough? What if he called her bluff and drove away? Perhaps it would have been better to cajole Marshall, be nicer to him, lie to him tell him that Harry respected him. Come on, Marshall, come on!

The Rover’s engine started up. Dolly held her breath; the direction Marshall took would decide her future. He pulled out of his parking space and headed for Dolly. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she composed herself. The Rover pulled up neatly beside her and Marshall handed Dolly the envelope he’d brought with him.

‘The routes, dates and times for the next month are all in there, but I want the briefcase with cash up front now and your assurance the gambling marker is over and done with.’

Dolly took the envelope and handed Marshall the case. ‘Be assured, Mr. Marshall, if the details in the envelope are correct and if the police remain unaware of the plans, then the Fishers’ marker will stay with me and you’ll be in the clear. You have my word.’

Once Marshall was out of sight, Dolly climbed into her car and succumbed to a buzzing sense of excitement. She had the plans! She planted a massive kiss on Wolf’s little head. He stood with his feet on her chest and listened as she told him, ‘Daddy would be proud of us, darling. So proud. And the girls will be so excited! It’s all coming together, Wolfie. It’s all coming together, just as Harry planned.’ The words stuck in Dolly’s throat. It was not just as Harry planned at all. Very, very far from how Harry had planned.

She hugged Wolf tight and took a moment to recollect just how Harry’s plans had gone so terribly wrong. She had the strength and the motivation now to finish what he’d started. Then she cleared her mind of all bad thoughts and filled it with thoughts of her girls. They were so close to the finish line... Yes, Linda still had to get the blocking truck and they still had to get used to the guns, and the padded overalls, and the chainsaw, and now they would have to learn the exact route on the day of the big run — but they’d come so far from those weak, crying, grieving widows who had met in the sauna all those months ago. Now, they were a team. Dolly smiled. Regardless of their faults and their moods and their inexperience, they were a team. Her team. And nothing and no one was going to stop them now.