‘Yep, that’s all, no more.’
They were parked outside a big elegant house in the Boltons. She stepped out, adjusted her dark glasses and walked slowly up the covered canopied entrance. She stood for a moment on the steps, noticed the two security cameras before ringing the bell. Part of her was saying what a stupid bitch she was to come here and do what Dolly had told her, but if it kept the old bitch quiet, why not?
Hector opened the door and looked at her. ‘Surprise, surprise! Ester Freeman herself!’
She stepped in and he shut the door behind her. She raised her arms as he frisked her for a weapon, spending more time than necessary patting her entire body. ‘Poor way to get your rocks off, isn’t it, Hector? Here, look in my handbag. I’ve not got the cash for a gun, darlin’.’
Hector searched it. ‘What do you want?’
‘To get off the hook.’
He smirked at her. ‘You got a lot of bottle, Ester. Either that or you’re fucking stupid.’
‘Look, prick, right now I’d go down on you for fifty quid, I’m that broke, so let’s stop the crap and talk.’
Hector ushered her along the thick-piled cream carpet into a double-doored drawing room filled with china cabinets and more Capodimonte than they have at Asprey’s. ‘Sit down.’
‘Look, I got five minutes. If I don’t walk out that cab driver out there will come in.’
‘That really scares me. Sit down.’
She sat on a peach-silk-covered chair and crossed her legs. ‘I’ve got the video, the only copy. You can have it but I just want to know that you’ll stop pestering me.’
Hector perched on an identical chair, swinging a set of gold worry beads round his finger. ‘What you done with the Saab? You nicked it, didn’t you? Rooney was screaming about it.’
‘You must be joking. I wouldn’t touch any motor of his, more than likely hot as shit. He’s just a liar and he got his heavies to give me a real going-over. You get your bloody Range Rover back, did you? He gave me the money for a taxi. That was the last I saw of Rooney.’
‘So what you after? If it’s money, you’re even more stupid than I give you credit for.’
‘To give you the video of your boss’s kids screwing two of my girls. You can have it back and for nothing. I just want to know that it’s over.’
Hector chortled. ‘Don’t be so fucking stupid. You’ve been a naughty girl, and you know he won’t let you off the hook. You shouldn’t have been so greedy — you got paid a lot of dough.’
‘I also did three years and I’m telling you, you beat me up, knock me around, and I’ll go straight to the cops. This time I’ll give them names, all right, and he won’t get off with his diplomatic immunity this time.’
Hector was about to hit her when the door opened. Even though Ester couldn’t see who was behind it, she knew, from Hector’s face, it was the boss.
She saw the cameras at the corners of the embossed ceiling — the whole place was monitored so every word they said must have been overheard. She waited as the two men whispered outside the half-closed door, and began to get a little uneasy, afraid Hector might turn back and beat the hell out of her. She was putting a lot of trust in the cab driver.
Hector gestured for her to join him. ‘Your lucky day. The tape.’
‘I’ll go and get it but it’s over, Hector.’
‘Yeah. Like I said, it’s your lucky day. Come on.’
They went out just as the driver was getting out of the taxi. Ester got into the back. ‘Give him that envelope, love.’ The cabbie looked at Ester, then at Hector, and reached in for the envelope.
Hector snatched it out of his hand and pulled down the passenger window. ‘Ester, this had better be the only copy. If it isn’t, you won’t just get a rap round the head, you’ll get taken out, understand?’
Ester rapped on the glass between her and the driver. ‘Marylebone station.’ They drove off, Hector watching from the pavement, as the cabbie eased back the partition.
‘I won’t ask what that was about, darlin’.’
‘Good,’ she said, slamming it shut. She sat back in the seat. Maybe it was for the best. It just pissed her off that if she’d had the right back-up, been able to afford a few heavies, she’d have made a lot of dough on that video. As it was, she didn’t have more than a few quid to her name. She hated being broke. She hadn’t been dependent on anyone since she first went to prison aged seventeen. She’d learned then not to trust anyone, especially a man, had spent the majority of her life sussing men out, what they wanted, and she’d given it, until she’d made enough money and got girls to do it for her.
She was still in debt up to her eyeballs with the bank but that didn’t concern her — that kind of debt never did. She’d just move on. What did concern her was where she would move to. She gazed unseeingly from the cab window. If Dolly really was serious about the robbery, she would live abroad, maybe Miami. All she needed was a break and a lot of cash — she’d always needed both. When she’d had the cash she never got a break because she’d been busted so many times. Ester had spent much of her life in prison, all over the country, busted if not for prostitution, for kiting and dealing in stolen goods. At one time her only ambition was to be top dog in prison and she had become it, taking more punishment or solitary than any other con. She climbed up walls with hysteria, kicked and bit prison officers with a blind fury that used to overtake her. Sitting in the cab, remembering, she reckoned that Dolly Rawlins would be at the end of one of her furies very soon. She’d taken enough of her orders, enough of her bullshit. There had better be a talk when she got home, and if there wasn’t she’d let Dolly have it. It was about time one of the women did. They were being taken for suckers.
Ester paid off the taxi but didn’t give him a tip — she couldn’t, it had cleaned her out of all the cash she had. The journey back to the manor didn’t calm her down, quite the reverse. She was about to challenge Dolly: if she wasn’t serious about robbing that security wagon then Ester would do it.
Chapter 17
Mike was late getting back on duty after the meeting with Dolly and Angela. When he passed the main desk, the duty sergeant looked up at him, wagging his finger. ‘You’re in it, mate. DCI Craigh’s been in and out looking for you.’
Mike pulled a face and went into the incident room. ‘Hear DCI Craigh’s looking for me, anyone know where he is?’
Palmer looked in at the door, overhearing. ‘Where the fuck have you been?’
‘I was at home, then I got sick and—’
Palmer moved closer. ‘Super and the Chief are in with the Gov, they want me and you. I think it’s coming down.’
Mike slumped into his seat. ‘What they want?’
Palmer looked over to the door and back to Mike.
‘Well, that bloody ten grand claim from Mrs Rawlins started it all. Now, well, they’re digging into everything.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah, all over us, so get your act together.’
Mike began to get out his files as Palmer was tannoyed to go to the main conference room immediately.
‘Is it gonna stay internal?’ Mike called after Palmer.
‘I bloody hope so,’ he said as he disappeared.
Craigh’s hands hung loosely in front of him. He had been explaining why they had begun the investigation into the diamond robbery. The Chief had gone over everything. Tight-lipped, he read about the two warrants and listened to the reason behind the investigation into Dorothy Rawlins.
‘I’m not interested in a robbery that went down eight, nine years ago. Right now we have to straighten out this entire fiasco because that’s what it is, from the death of James Donaldson down. One minute you got her with a supposed stash of diamonds, the next with weapons...’