Gangsters Wives Page 5

  She looked at the waitresses as they went quietly about their business. ‘Us women,’ she said. ‘We’re mugged off whoever we are.’

  They ordered a selection of food, another bottle of wine and Sadie sat back in her seat and lit another cigarette. ‘So come on Poppy,’ she said. ‘Tell me all the latest. I know you’re dying to.’

  14

  After the first course of mixed hors d’oeuvres was served and the wine was open, Poppy said, ‘I don’t think I can go on like this much longer. He’s never home, and when he is, he doesn’t talk to me. We don’t make love, we don’t do anything but sit and look at TV. And he can’t wait to get away to that bitch and his little bastard.’

  ‘Poppy,’ said Sadie, picking at the food on her plate. ‘We’ve been through this a hundred times. You can’t keep torturing yourself. Shit happens. I’m in the same boat more or less, with this bloody case coming up. Eddie never tells me anything either. It’s the nature of the beast as they say. You’ve got to get over it.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can. You’re not the first woman this has happened to, and you won’t be the last, believe me. If it’s that bad, leave.’

  ‘I can’t do that either. I hate him, but I love him too. I’ve always loved him and I always will.’

  ‘Then stay. You’ve got everything you need. A nice place, money.’

  ‘That’s nothing.’

  ‘Tell that to some poor cow on benefits living in a slum.’

  ‘Like my mum you mean.’

  ‘If you like.’ Then she realised what she’d said. ‘Sorry doll, you know I didn’t mean that about your mum.’

  ‘I know Sade. But it hurts me so much.’ She started to cry silently, and Sadie handed her a tissue to dry the tears.

  ‘Men will always hurt you in the end, one way or another,’ said Sadie, and put her hand over Poppy’s for comfort.

  ‘You do all right,’ said Poppy, when she’d composed herself a bit.

  ‘Do I? You’d be surprised,’ replied Sadie.

  ‘You’ve got your bloke.’

  ‘What, Eddie? He’s as bad as Joe. Like I just said. He’s never around. Always in a filthy mood. You know, I think he’s going down. And I think he knows it.’

  ‘Getaway. With his brief? No chance. He’s a genius.’

  ‘Then why is Eddie so worried?’

  ‘He’s just got the jitters. It’s next week isn’t it?’

  ‘Tuesday.’

  ‘I’ll be there for you. We’ll all be there for you and Eddie. He’s a diamond. Never said a word about the others.’

  ‘That’s his way. And thanks.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being a mate.’

  ‘You’ve been more than a mate to me Sade. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  Sadie smiled. ‘Come on then girl. Eat up. My treat, and the duck here’s to die for.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m that hungry, and I’ve got to watch my weight.’

  ‘For Joe?’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. Pass the damn noodles.’

  As they sat in the restaurant, something began to niggle at Sadie’s brain, and for once she let it grow. She looked at Poppy, and thought of Kate and Niki and herself. Four women trapped in lives none of them wanted. Four capable women who allowed their men to rule them. To walk all over them and treat them like dirt. And the beginnings of a plan began to form.

  ‘What you thinking?’ asked Poppy as she cleared her plate and laid her chopsticks on the side.

  ‘Nothing much,’ said Sadie. ‘Just what I’m going to have for pudding.’

  15

  Tuesday rolled around, and Eddie had the runs. ‘I can’t get off the bloody toilet,’ he shouted as Sadie got his clothes ready for court.

  ‘There’s some Diarid tablets in the medicine cupboard,’ she shouted through the door of the en-suite. ‘That’ll sort you.’

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he moaned. ‘I don’t fucking believe this. Fucking Diarid, what’s all that about?’

  ‘Calm down love,’ she said. ‘You’ll only make it worse.’

  She had laid out the new Hugo Boss suit he’d bought for the occasion. Eight-hundred quid’s worth of single-breasted navy blue wool and mohair. ‘Got to put on a show for the jury,’ he’d said when they’d gone down to Bond Street to pick it out.

  Eventually he came out of the bathroom. ‘My ring feels like it’s on fire,’ he said.

  ‘I told you not to have curry last night.’

  ‘I fancied a ruby. Didn’t know it’d go right through.’

  ‘It’s stress,’ she said. ‘Those pills’ll work. Give ‘em time.’

  ‘I fucking hope so. Fucking stress. You don‘t know what stress is.’

  Don’t I? she thought. But she said nothing.

  He padded across the bedroom floor in his underwear and socks, plucked a new white shirt off its hanger and slipped it on. He knotted a navy blue knitted silk tie, put on his new trousers and highly polished, black Italian leather loafers. Pulling on the jacket he asked, ‘How do I look?’

  He was pale and had lost weight since he bought the suit, and as Sadie looked him over she felt a stab of pity for him. ‘You look like a million,’ she said.

  She was already dressed herself. A black Dolce and Gabbana suit, white blouse unbuttoned at the throat, black tights and black Jimmy Choos. She wasn’t about to let the side down either.

  Eddie looked her over. ‘Diamond,’ he said. ‘Always looking good Sade. You never let me down.’

  Except when I’m in bed with a geezer thought Sadie, but once again she was silent.

  ‘You fit then?’ asked Eddie. ‘The car’ll be here in a minute. Driver sent me a text when I was in the khazi. Go down and open the gates, there’s a doll.’

  Sadie did as he asked, went downstairs and operated the gizmo that opened the front gates, and a black Beemer with black mirrored windows crawled up the drive. The driver jumped out and stood waiting. She went to the door. ‘Won’t be a minute darlin’,’ she said. ‘Have a fag why don’cha?’

  He took out a packet of Bensons and lit up, looking relieved. He was a local boy who knew of Eddie Ross’s reputation and wanted to do nothing to upset him. ‘I’d offer you a cuppa,’ said Sadie. ‘But we don’t want to be late do we?’

  ‘No problem Mrs Ross,’ said the driver. ‘Now do you want me to wait at the court? My guv’nor wasn’t clear.’

  ‘You’re ours for the day sweetheart,’ said Sadie. ‘It’s up to you. We’ve got your mobile. We should be out by four. You do what you want. Just be there when we leave. I expect there’ll be press about and we don’t want to be standing outside the Bailey with our thumbs up our arses waiting for you.’

  ‘No chance,’ said the driver. ‘I’ll be there. My name’s Tom by the way.’

  ‘OK, Tom,’ said Sadie. ‘Just make sure you’re waiting. My old man’s on a short fuse today.’

  I bet he is, thought Tom who had read about the case in the papers. ‘Count on me,’ he said. ‘I’ve done this sort of thing before.’

  ‘Did they have a result?’

  ‘Always,’ said Tom. ‘Just like Mr Ross will.’

  ‘I hope you’re fucking right,’ she said.

  Eddie appeared at the door. ‘All right driver?’ he said.

  ‘Ready anytime you are sir.’

  ‘Let’s go then.’

  Sadie went back inside and got her handbag, locked up tight, and joined Eddie in the back seat of the motor. Tom got behind the wheel and they drove off, the gates of the house closing behind them with the metallic clang of prison doors.

  16

  All was quiet at the law courts, however, when they arrived. No journalists or cameras about as Tom dropped off Sadie and Eddie, promising to keep his phone on and charged, ready to return at a moment’s notice. ‘This could take days,’ said Eddie. ‘But you never know. Something might happen to their main witness,’ he said, menace implied behind his calm words.<
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  Tom felt a cold chill, but showed no emotion. ‘Good luck Mr Ross, Mrs Ross,’ he said as he ushered them out of the BMW. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  They went inside the imposing building, topped with the statue of blind justice that Eddie gave a sardonic look.

  He reported to the bailiff and was led off to the cells by court officers, whilst Sadie went looking for the rest of the crew.

  She found Kate sipping from a Starbucks coffee cup. ‘How you holding up?’ she asked.

  ‘Eddie’s got the jitters,’ replied Sadie. ‘Who’s about?’

  ‘Everyone. They’re outside having a fag. They’ll be back in a minute. What time is Eddie on?’

  ‘Soon.’

  The others wandered in in dribs and drabs. The men were wearing pressed suits and clean shirts and ties, looking more like a convention of businessmen than a gang of villains, and the women were dolled up for a day at the races, with more Gina high heels and Fendi handbags than an episode of Sex And The City. ‘Christ,’ said Sadie when they were all gathered together. ‘What time’s the wedding?’

  Then Eddie’s case was called.

  Sitting up in the spectator’s gallery the court looked smaller than she imagined. Big though he was, Eddie was dwarfed by the two huge warders as he stood in the dock to hear the charges against him.

  The day went badly. The witnesses for the prosecution were wheeled out and led through their carefully rehearsed evidence. The driver of the hijacked truck, his mate who’d been badly beaten, bystanders and coppers. The evidence was overwhelming. It should have been a simple job. Something the chaps could deal with blindfolded. The Mail were stupid. They never learned that everywhere there were sharp eyes watching for cash on the move. Sharp eyes that saw a pattern and sold to the likes of Eddie. The vans moved thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of pounds to branch post offices every Thursday morning in front of the weekend, where the public cashed in their giros and pensions at the counter, even though The Mail pleaded with them to have the money transferred direct to their bank accounts. In London a lot of people didn’t have bank accounts, even in this day and age. Besides, they liked to feel the crinkle of cash in the purse or pocket, so money was always flying around in big red armoured trucks. But armour is only as strong as its weakest part. And the weakest parts were always the humans inside the vehicles. Underpaid and often resentful, they were the links in the chain that parted easiest. But for once the human was more resentful of the robbers than his employers, and he paid dearly for his loyalty.

  ‘It was only fucking money,’ said Eddie, after the event. ‘Just print some more. Anyway it wasn’t his dough. Silly cunt.’ The silly cunt in question being the driver’s mate, a young man from Camden Town named Billy Liquorice.

  The armoured van was driving down The Great West Road when three motors joined it. In front went first, a Ford Cosworth for the getaway driven by Robbo, a white Transit truck driven by Eddie, to block the road, with Joseph literally riding shotgun armed with an AK47, and behind, a Bedford tow truck to rip off the back doors with Connie at the wheel. All four had Tony Blair plastic masks hanging round their necks, and at the pre-arranged spot all four pulled them up over their faces. At 9:10 precisely Eddie slammed on the brakes of the Transit and cut the Mail van off as Joseph jumped out and pointed the machine gun at the windscreen of the van. ‘Switch off,’ he screamed and fired a single shot at the engine compartment, as Connie spun the tow truck round in a tight circle. A woman in a Range Rover behind him tooted her horn, but at the sight of Tony Blair glaring back at her, and the sound of the shot she dived into the passenger well of the SUV and stayed there.

  Now, if all had gone smoothly, the driver and his mate would have been forced out of the van as Eddie connected the tow-truck’s hook to the handles on the back of the money wagon. But Billy Liquorice would have none of it. Even as the driver literally wet his trousers, Billy shoved him against the driver’s door, got behind the wheel, slammed the van into reverse and drove back into the tow truck, then attempted to by-pass the Transit. The armoured vehicle slammed into the back of the trannie and stalled, and Joseph switched the AK to full automatic and fired through the passenger door of the van. The glass was supposed to be bullet proof, but the AK was loaded with armour piercing bullets and the side window imploded, covering Billy with shards of glass which almost cut his throat. He was lucky a bullet didn’t blow his head off. So was Eddie, as he’d have been up for murder instead of the charges he faced. The tow truck had been pushed back into the bonnet of the Range Rover with enough force to ram the steering wheel back and inflate both air bags, narrowly missing the driver’s face as she peered over the dashboard. Both radiators fractured sending clouds of steam into the morning air. When the gang heard sirens they abandoned the job, the trannie and the tow truck and made their escape, empty-handed in the Cosworth. The very next morning Eddie’s lock up was raided, and the rest was history. As the evidence mounted, Sadie felt her spirits droop.

  When day one was over, Sadie found Eddie, whose bail had been retained, and they left by a side door where Tom had parked his car. But this time things were different. There was an imposing press and TV presence and Sadie and Eddie had to fight through a crowd of reporters shouting questions. They shielded themselves behind stony expressions and barged through the melee to the car, which screamed away with a shriek from its back tyres. ‘Christ,’ said Eddie. ‘That was fucked.’

  Tom kept his face to the front.

  ‘I’m going down,’ Eddie whispered in Sadie’s ear. ‘Things are looking bad.’

  They drove the rest of the way home in silence, Sadie holding on to Eddie’s hand as if she was drowning.

  Once indoors Eddie said, ‘Listen, I’ve spoken to my brief. I’m going to change my plea.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s all going pear shaped babe. I’m being let down by people I thought I could trust. If I cop a plea, then the judge might go a bit lightly.’

  ‘But I thought everything was sorted? Like always?’

  ‘I’m being fucked over darlin’. ‘Trust me, it’s the only way. I promise you though, you’ll be all right.’

  But she wasn’t.

  The next day, Eddie did as he said and after the jury was excused, he was sentenced.

  ‘This was a brutal and vicious robbery,’ the judge intoned. ‘And although you have pleaded guilty, your accomplices are still at liberty, and you appear to show no remorse. I therefore sentence you to fifteen years in prison. Take him down.’

  Sadie felt her world begin to slip away, and she almost fainted. Kate was on one side of her and Poppy the other with Niki sitting behind next to Connie. Sadie felt their hands supporting her and she knew she mustn’t give in to the feelings of pure terror she was experiencing. Eddie would never forgive her the weakness, so she pulled herself together and left the court with her head held high.

  She was allowed one brief interview with her husband in the holding cell in the bowels of the building. ‘Sweetheart,’ said Eddie. ‘You’ll be all right. When I’m settled we’ll get you a VO.’

  ‘Where are you going Eddie?’ she asked

  ‘The Marsh. I’ll be close. Now don’t worry. Love you.’

  ‘Love you too,’ said Sadie, and there wasn’t much else to say.

  17

  Sadie hadn’t been the only one to get a shock on the first day of the trial. At lunchtime Robbo, Joseph and Connie had gone off alone together. ‘Business,’ was all they said. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Looks like we’re ladies who lunch alone then,’ said Sadie to the other three girls. ‘Eddie’s brief told me there’s a decent boozer round the corner. The Three Stags. Does a fair lunch. Though I’m not hungry, but I could go a livener. What about it?’

  Poppy, Niki and Kate nodded agreement and they set off. Then Kate said, ‘Shit, I’ve run out of fags. I’ll just nip in the shop.’ Across the road was a newsagents.

  ‘I’ve got plenty,’ said Niki.


  ‘Those things you smoke are too strong for me,’ said Kate. ‘Go on, I’ll catch you up. Get me a G&T in.’

  ‘Right,’ said Sadie. ‘He said it’s left and left again. On the corner. Can’t miss it.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll look for three slags in the Three Stags,’ said Kate, ‘then I’ll know I’m there.’

  ‘Cheek,’ said Poppy, but they all laughed, grateful for the weak joke on a day when there wasn’t much else to laugh about.

  Kate trotted across the road and into the shop where she bought twenty Silk Cut purple. As she left and made to re-cross the road, a voice from the next doorway said, ‘I hope you paid for those.’

  Kate turned and there was Ali, standing there with a smile on his face.

  Kate nearly fainted. He was the last person she wanted to see. Correction. The only person she wanted to see. But not under these circumstances. In a hotel bed with a bottle of champagne and a spliff he’d rolled to get them in the mood. So what the fuck was he doing outside the Old Bailey on the first day of Eddie’s trial? ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘If anyone sees us…’

  ‘Everybody’s off to lunch,’ said Ali. ‘I watched.’

  ‘And I’m supposed to meet the girls.’

  ‘You will. I’m not going to stop you. I just wanted to say hello and that you look good enough to eat.’

  ‘But what are you doing here?’ Kate asked again.

  ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Seeing you lot together. One big happy family.’

  ‘But you weren’t in court… Were you?’ she added.

  ‘CCTV love. Smile, you’re on candid camera. You do a lovely close-up.’

  ‘Christ.’

  ‘I had some time, and I wanted to see some of the trial. Not going well, is it?’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘I’d say not. Teflon Eddie’s in big trouble.’

  ‘Don’t ask me.’