Mike’s heart began to thud, unable to comprehend what he was hearing, as Audrey’s voice became twisted with bitterness. ‘I did it, I bloody did it. She got me so I couldn’t say nothin’, couldn’t do anything, and then... she fuckin’ shot her husband.’
Mike took her to a pub, gave her a brandy, watched as she chain-smoked one cigarette after another. ‘No mention of the diamonds at her trial — they never got anythin’ on her for that robbery, they never had any evidence that put her in the frame. She got done for manslaughter.’
Mike was sweating. ‘You ever tell anybody what you did?’
‘What you think?’ she snapped back at him. ‘She got me involved, didn’t she? I could have been done for fencin’ them, helpin’ her. No, I never told anybody.’
‘Did you get paid?’
She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘No. Payday is when the bitch comes out. Bitch thinks she’s gonna walk out to a fortune.’
Mike gripped Audrey’s hand. ‘Listen to me! Look at me! You know what I am. You know what it means for you to tell me all this?’
Audrey lit another cigarette. ‘What you gonna do, Mike, arrest your own mother?’
He ran his fingers through his hair; he could feel the sweat trickling down from his armpits. ‘You got to promise me you will never, never tell a soul about those diamonds. You got to swear on my kids’ lives. You don’t touch them — don’t even think about them.’
‘She’ll be out one day. Then what?’
Mike licked his lips.
‘She as good as killed Shirley, I had to identify her, they pulled the sheet down from her face.’
‘Stop it! Look, I promise you I’ll take care of you. You don’t need any dough — but I’m asking you, Mum, don’t screw it up for me, please.’
She stared at him, then leaned forward and touched his blond hair, same texture, same colour as Shirley’s. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, love. If you make that bitch pay for what she done to my baby, you get her locked up—’
‘Mum, she is away, she’s in the nick right now.’
Audrey prodded his hand with her finger. ‘But one day she’ll be out, and I keep a calendar. She’ll be out, rich and free. I don’t care about the money, all I want is...’
Audrey never said the word revenge but it was blatantly obvious, and Mike made a promise. It sounded hollow to him but he had no option. He promised that when Dolly Rawlins came out of Holloway, he would get her back for her part in the diamond robbery. Five years later, the promise was to haunt him, because his mother never forgot it. She called him and asked him to come round. As if unconcerned, she suddenly suggested he look in the left-hand drawer of the side table. Audrey was tut-tutting over some character’s downfall on the TV. Every single newspaper article about the diamond robbery was stacked in the drawer. Calendars, one year, two years, three years, scrawled in thick red-tipped pen. He eased aside the news-clippings and there was an old black and white photograph, taken at some West End nightclub. He had never seen Dolly Rawlins, wouldn’t know her if he was to come face to face with her in the street, but he knew which one she was: she had to be the blonde, hard-faced woman sitting at the centre of the large round table. She had a champagne glass in her hand, a half-smile on her face, but there was something about her eyes: unsmiling, hard, cold eyes... The handsome man seated next to her had almost an angry expression, as if annoyed by the intrusion of the photographer. Mike recognized his brother-in-law, dead before Shirley. Terry Miller always looked like he never had a care in the world: his wide smile was relaxed and he exuded an open sexuality, unafraid of any photo, one arm resting along the cushioned booth seat as if protecting or guarding his pretty, innocent, child-like wife. Shirley Miller.
The TV was turned off and Audrey turned to Mike. ‘You read them, have you?’ She pointed to the black and white picture of Dorothy Rawlins. She was crying, clutching a sodden tissue in her hand. ‘You never seen her, have you, love?’
The big headlines screamed out her name and beneath her picture was a smaller one of her husband: ‘Gangland Boss Murdered by his Wife’. Harry Rawlins had been a notorious criminaclass="underline" a handsome, elegant, cruel-faced man, yet his picture made him look like a movie star. In comparison, the hard gaze of his wife made them appear an incompatible couple but they had been married twenty years. Harry Rawlins was one of the biggest gangsters in London, a man who had never been caught, never spent a day behind bars, and yet had been questioned by the police so many times his name was known by most of the Met officers. He had always been too clever to get arrested. He had lived a charmed life until his wife shot him. The newspaper article stated that Dorothy Rawlins had killed her husband when she had discovered his betrayal, that he had a mistress and a child. There was no mention that he had instigated a robbery where Shirley Miller’s husband had been burned to death, and the news coverage only talked about the shooting. They had nicknamed Dolly the ‘Black Widow’ because throughout her trial she had always been dressed in black.
Audrey prodded Dolly’s face in the paper. ‘Eight years. Eight years. Well, she’s out, any day now,’ she said, wiping her eyes.
What Audrey had never told Mike about that last visit from Dolly was that she had been pregnant and had lost the baby she was expecting. She blamed that on Dolly Rawlins as well, and she could see her, as clearly as if it were yesterday. Audrey even remembered the coat — stylish. Funny, she could recall the coat but little of what was said apart from the promise. Dolly had not sat down but stood in the small hallway, her head slightly bowed, her voice a low whisper. ‘I’m sorry about Shirley. I am deeply sorry for Shirley.’
Audrey had been unable to reply, she was in such a state.
‘Nothing will make up to you for her loss, I know that.’
Still Audrey had been unable to reply. Then Dolly had lifted her head, her pale washed-out eyes brimming with tears. ‘You’ll get a cut of the diamonds, that I promise you. Just hand them over to Jimmy Donaldson. Jimmy’ll keep them safe. When this is all over, I’ll see you’re taken care of, Audrey.’
Then it went blank. Audrey couldn’t recall anything else they had said or not said but Dolly had eventually walked out. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly. Mike looked over the cuttings and she wondered if she should tell him but she was scared. Everything had changed after she had read in the paper that a small-time fence called Jimmy Donaldson had been arrested for dealing in stolen property. Audrey had then done something she would have believed herself incapable of. She had done it all by herself and, having done it, she had been terrified. But the weeks passed and gradually she grew more and more confident that what she had done was right. She deserved it. But now she was scared, really scared, because Dolly Rawlins was coming out and she didn’t know if she should tell Mike or not. But she knew one thing: Dolly would come out looking for her, she was sure of that.
Mike was feeling depressed and uneasy. It was back again, that constant undercurrent of guilt whenever he was with his mother. He had made that promise, but what could he do? He held on to his temper. ‘Mum, there is nothing I can do—’
‘You’re a ruddy police officer, aren’t you? Re-arrest her. She did that robbery, Mike — I know it, you know it. She as good as killed our Shirley, never mind her bloody husband.’
The tears started again. He was due at his station in half an hour; he wished he’d never called in. ‘Look, Mum, the main problem will be if it implicates you — and it could.’