Читать книгу Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit - Anne Bennett - Страница 25

Molly tossed and turned on the bed, in too much pain and far too upset to sleep, but as she played the scenes over and over again in her head, she became horrified by what she had done and she began to wonder if it had been her fault in some way and if she could have handled it better. The point was, she had drunk too much to behave in any sort of logical way and that was her fault. And was it really necessary for her to push Collingsworth down the stairs, especially as he had already passed out and had a head wound seeping blood?

She hadn’t been thinking straight. She had just wanted the man as far away from her as possible, where he couldn’t hurt her any more, but what if she had killed him? He was rich and influential, Ray had intimated, and she knew she would never get away with killing or even maiming such a person. What would happen to her when it was discovered what she had done? She ran her trembling fingers around her neck, imagined the hangman’s noose tightening there and felt sick with fear.

Ray would know what to do when he came back, though she faced the fact he might be less than pleased with her at first, because pulling Collingsworth’s legs from under him so that he was knocked unconscious and then rolling him down the stairs could not be construed as being ‘nice’ to him by any stretch of the imagination.

But then when she told Ray what Collingsworth had wanted to do, surely he would see that she had little alternative? When he saw the mess that the man had made of her face, she imagined that he would be incensed on her behalf, because she knew that he couldn’t be involved in any of this, whatever the odious man had said. If he had been, wouldn’t he at the very least have tried to take advantage of her before this?

She had offered for him to share her bed. She was sure she wouldn’t have minded too much, not if it had been Ray, but he had been too much of a gentleman to do that. Instead, he had cared for her and certainly had never laid a finger on her in an inappropriate way.

However, Ray wasn’t there, so it was down to her. She knew she had to find out exactly what she had done to Edwin Collingsworth. Her nerve ends quivered and she wished she could curl up in bed and pretend that the naked man, maybe lying dead at the bottom of the stairs, was nothing to do with her.

She shivered as she pushed the covers back, for the place was like an ice box and her head pounded as she lifted it from the pillow. She felt as if she was going to be sick, but she fought the nausea and slid her feet thankfully into slippers. She wished the silky wrap she tied around herself was a cosy woolly one, for though it looked fine, it was not made for warmth.

She doubted, though, that anything could warm her up properly, for it was terror that was filling her veins with ice. She padded across to the front door and, once there, it took all her reserves of strength to slide the bolts back and ease it open. She had picked up one of the torches Ray always left in a cupboard in the hall, and by its light, dim though it was, she saw there was nothing at the bottom of the stairs. There was no body, no clothes – nothing.

However, she had to be certain, and she descended the stairs, her senses on high alert, ready to flee at any moment. But, the stairwell was completely empty except for the little pool of blood at the bottom. Then her torch showed up something gleaming on the floor. She bent to look more closely and saw that it was a pair of gold cufflinks. Collingsworth’s she presumed, which must have fallen out of his cuffs when she threw his clothes down the stairs. She put them into the pocket of her wrap.

She should have felt relieved, but she wasn’t. What if someone had found him and summoned an ambulance, or maybe he had regained consciousness enough to dress himself before stumbling into the street to get help. Either way, it wasn’t necessarily good news for her.

She went back to the apartment, not bothering to slide the bolts now that Collingsworth was no longer at the bottom of the steps. In the kitchen she made a cup of tea, hoping it might stop her teeth chattering. And that was where a furious Ray found her a little later.

Collingsworth’s chauffeur, Will Baker, had brought Ray and Collingsworth to the apartment the evening before. His instructions were then to take Ray wherever he wanted to go, return to the apartment, and wait outside it until his boss might need him. However, it had been cold sitting in the car, and after an hour, the chauffeur had got out to walk up and down, slapping his arms to his sides and had stepped out of the wind into the entry just below Molly’s window to light up a cigarette.

When he heard the commotion, he had grimaced to himself, for he guessed the little quirk his employer had of occasionally beating up young girls and women had got the better of him again. There could be trouble over this if he had done her harm, because Ray had told him he had warned him not to hurt her in any way. He knew why too: the girl was lined up to go to Vera’s whorehouse the following week. ‘Installed before Christmas and working like a good ’un by the New Year,’ was the way Ray put it, and if she was damaged in any way, he knew full well Vera wouldn’t want her, or pay for her, till she was healed and could be of some use.

The chauffeur moved round to the front door of the house, though he knew that it was more than his life was worth to interfere. That was, until he heard the unmistakable sound of someone falling down the stairs. He knew then that his employer might have killed the girl. It wouldn’t be the first time either, he knew, and it had sickened him when he had heard his heavies boasting about it.

Anyway, he decided, whether Collingsworth liked it or not, he couldn’t leave someone who might well need help at the bottom of the stairs so he waited till all was quiet beyond the door before he cautiously opened it. Mindful of the blackout, he had to shut it behind him before he could turn on his torch and then his heart skipped a beat, for it was no young girl there but the battered and bruised body of his employer, and though he was as naked as the day he was born, his clothes lay in a heap on top of him.

Had the girl done him in? Fought for her honour, like? Dear Christ, she was in one heap of trouble, whichever way it was. Will leant across, felt for the pulse in his employer’s neck and was relieved that he was alive at least, so it wouldn’t be the gallows for that young girl, whoever she was.

But the man was still unconscious and the wound Will saw on the back of his head was bleeding profusely. He tried to stanch that with his handkerchief before shaking him gently and whispering, ‘Mr Collingsworth, sir. Mr Collingsworth. Wake up, sir. Wake up.’

He was relieved to see his employer’s eyes flutter open, even though he did shut them straight away, growling out irritably, ‘Turn that bloody torch away from my face, you fool. Nearly damned well blinded me. And where the hell am I anyway?’

But the chauffeur didn’t have to answer that, because the events of that evening had begun to seep into Collingsworth’s brain and consummate rage filled his entire body. ‘Help me into my clothes, man. Don’t just stand there,’ he commanded.

Will did most of the dressing, for Collingsworth was disorientated and badly co-ordinated. Though the chauffeur thought he should go to hospital to be checked over, particularly for the head injury, which was still seeping blood and matting in his sparse hair, even through the handkerchief, he said nothing. He knew that these people from the underworld seldom visited doctors or hospitals in the normal way. They had their own people to attend them, who were paid well to keep their mouths shut.

Will Baker didn’t like the colour of Collingsworth’s face at all and noted how he had to help him to his feet once he was dressed and then prevent him falling flat on his face as, taking almost all his weight, he semi-carried the man to his car.

‘Where to, boss?’

‘Home. Where else, you bloody fool?’

In Collingsworth’s house, in full light, the man looked worse and the chauffeur was worried enough to say, ‘Shall I ring the doctor, sir?’ knowing that he had a special doctor attend him.

But his employer brushed the suggestion away impatiently. ‘It’s not a doctor I want but that man Morris. Find him and bring him here.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The chauffeur had taken Ray to the casino, so he was likely spending the money Collingsworth had given him that evening.

It had been Ray that had put Will in line for a job with Collingsworth after meeting him in a pub one night. They had been at school together, though not special friends, but that night they caught up with news of one another. Will, feeling very sorry for himself, told Ray of being invalided out of the army after his lungs were buggered up after the rout at Dunkirk.

Ray, on the other hand, never specified what he actually did for a living, or how he had evaded the call-up, but he did tell Will that he might be able to do him a favour.

‘My boss is in need of a chauffeur and general dogsbody since the last one was called up. You can drive, I suppose?’

‘Well, yes, but with petrol rationed I wouldn’t imagine there will be much work in that line at the moment.’

‘Don’t you believe it,’ Ray had said. ‘This man, as well as being incredibly rich, has his finger in so many pies. Rationing of anything doesn’t seem to apply to him. Anyway, no harm in having a chat.’

Will agreed there wasn’t, but when he met Edwin Collingsworth he hadn’t liked him at all. The more he knew about him, the more his dislike and unease grew. Yet a job was a job, and better than no damned thing at all.

His fear, when he had been made aware of the extent of his injuries, was that he’d be unable to provide for his wife, Betty, and he knew she had been frightened of that too. It was even more important now that she was expecting their first child. It always gave him pride when he placed his wage packet into her hand on a Friday night and saw that special smile on her face. He would go to hell and back in order that she and the child would not go short.

Collingsworth paid well, Will had to admit, though sometimes he demanded more than his pound of flesh and his Betty would kick up about it though he never discussed his work with her. He knew she would disapprove of most of it, and if she just had a hint of some of the things he had seen done, the things he had been asked to cover up, or provide an alibi for, she would probably demand he give it up. And just where would they be then? Up the creek without a paddle, that’s where. Anyway, it was far better for Betty, and much safer for her, to know nothing and to think he had a regular sort of job.

Ray was surprised to hear that Collingsworth had returned home before the morning, for it wasn’t even midnight, but ask as he might, Will said he knew nothing about anything. All he knew was that he was told to fetch him and that was what he was doing. Ray knew he was lying, though he didn’t blame him because it was always safer for a person to keep their head down. He had seen Collingsworth in a temper and it was a frightening spectacle.

In Will’s absence, Collingsworth had called his doctor, who had come round immediately, shaved the hair around the head wound and then cleaned and stitched it so that the first thing that Ray noticed was the large white bandage encircling the man’s head.

‘Good God, Edwin! What happened to you?’

‘You might well ask, and the answer is being fool enough to be left in with that she-devil.’

Ray’s mouth dropped agape. ‘Molly?’ he said incredulously. ‘Molly did that to you?’

‘What do you think?’ Collingsworth spat out.

‘But how? I mean, there is nothing to her.’

‘That is neither here nor there,’ Collingsworth snapped. ‘You said she would be ready and waiting, that she knew the score.’

‘She did,’ Ray said. ‘I mean, I told her she had to be nice to you, very nice, and I asked her if she knew what I meant and she said that of course she did.’

Surely, Ray thought suddenly, she wasn’t so naive as to think that being ‘nice’ was offering him a cup of tea and a biscuit or two?

‘Oh, she was nice all right,’ Collingsworth snapped. ‘So nice that not content with knocking me out, she pushed me down the bleeding stairs.’ He went on to recount to Ray what had happened in the apartment. ‘She bloody near killed me,’ he said at the end. ‘She might have succeeded if Will hadn’t found me and brought me home, and I want to know what you are going to do about it.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Ray demanded. ‘I’ll have a word, put her straight, give her a good hiding if you like, so she will remember.’

‘I have done that already,’ Collingsworth said. ‘And that is not good enough. No one gets away with doing this to me. And I want every penny back from the money I paid you this evening.’

‘I haven’t got it,’ Ray said. ‘I mean, not all of it. I spent some at the casino. I had a bit of bad luck.’

‘That is not my problem.’

‘You have to give me time.’

‘I have to give you nothing,’ Collingsworth snarled.

‘I was going to sell Molly on to Vera,’ Ray said. ‘I would have some cash then all right.’

‘Well, now you will have to think of another way to earn enough to pay me back,’ Collingsworth said. ‘And remember, I am not a patient man.’

‘I can’t pay you what I haven’t got.’

‘You are not listening to me, Morris, and I don’t like that,’ Collingsworth snarled. ‘You pay me what you owe or I turn you over to my heavies and then you will be lucky if you ever work again.’

He let this sink in, then went on, ‘There is a way around this, because if you kill the girl, and in a way that can never be traced back to me, the debt will be cancelled.’

Ray gasped. Outside the door, Will, who was eavesdropping, felt his blood turn to ice.

‘I haven’t ever killed anyone, Edwin, never,’ Ray said. ‘Or even come anywhere near it.’

‘So?’

‘What if I make a mess of it?’

‘Then I suggest that you get on a slow boat to China,’ Collingsworth said with a sardonic smile. ‘Because wherever you try running to, I will seek you out and hunt you down, and make you wish that you had never been born. I do hope that I have made myself clear?’

Will melted away from the door as Ray opened it. He went out into the street, his senses reeling. He could barely believe that he had just heard two men discussing killing a young girl with so little feeling. He had never listened in to what went on behind Collingsworth’s door before, preferring to keep well out of the man’s business, and he wished to God he hadn’t listened that day either, but finding his boss the way he had had made him curious.

And now he had heard they intended to kill a young girl and in cold blood for the simple reason that she had objected to Collingsworth shagging her. He could hardly blame her, for the man had surely been at the back of the queue when good looks were dished out. He was also a nasty piece of work and likely old enough to be her grandfather. No wonder the poor girl had fought like a tiger. The whole thing was obscene, grotesque.

All the way back to the flat, Ray was raging. He wanted to tear Molly limb from limb. Over three weeks he had kept her and fed her and cared for her, waiting for Collingsworth to return from wherever he had been, knowing he would pay well for a virgin. And then when Collingsworth had taken his pleasure, Ray would sell the girl on to Vera and pick up a wad of money to keep him until the next girl chanced along.

All he had asked Molly to do was toe the line, to repay the way he had looked after her so well, but she had screwed up every bloody thing. And yet the thought of what he had to do to prevent Collingsworth’s heavies reducing him to pulp frightened the life out of him. He wasn’t averse to giving a girl a good hiding if she stepped out of line, but killing – that was a different league altogether and not one he was keen on joining either.

Christ, whatever way you looked at it, it was a bloody mess and it was all Molly’s fault.

Molly felt a flood of relief when she heard Ray come in, confident that he would know what to do. She looked up as he entered the kitchen and watched him survey her face. Molly had never seen such a look in Ray’s eyes before, though she recognised that it was not sympathy or pity for the mess Collingsworth had made of her. Even so, she was unprepared for what he said.

‘Well, I just hope that you are bloody proud of yourself.’

Molly was totally confused. ‘Ray, I …’

Ray dragged her to her feet by the neck of her nightdress, and with his face inches from hers, he ground out, ‘I told you to be nice, didn’t I?’ He gave Molly a shake. ‘Didn’t I?’

‘Yes, but, Ray, I tried, but he wanted to go with me, you know. He tried to make me … well, you know.’

‘Well, of course he did, you silly cow. That is what he came for,’ Ray snarled at her, throwing her from him with such force she had to catch hold of the table she fell against to steady herself.

She was hardly aware of this, however, because she could scarcely believe the words that Ray had flung at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I mean, my dear, stupid bitch, that Collingsworth wanted a virgin and I had one that he paid dearly for.’

‘I can’t believe that I am hearing this,’ Molly said, aghast. ‘You know that I wouldn’t do anything like that. Surely to God you didn’t expect …’

‘But I did,’ Ray said wearily. ‘Fool that I was, I did. I told you to be very nice and I asked you if you knew what I meant and you said yes.’

‘I didn’t mean …’ Molly began through the tears seeping from her eyes.

‘I told you to do whatever he wanted, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, but …’

‘And what did you do, but bugger all except near kill the man.’

‘Is he … is he all right?’

‘Yeah, no thanks to you,’ Ray said. ‘I suppose I don’t have to tell you that you are not his favourite person at the moment. In fact if you were before him this minute he would kill you with his bare hands and I wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.’

Molly shuddered in sudden fear of this man for the first time. ‘Don’t say things like that.’

‘Even if they are true?’

‘But they are not. Normal people don’t go on like this.’

‘Collingsworth isn’t normal. Even on your limited acquaintance you must have been aware of that.’

‘I don’t know a thing about that man, nor do I want to,’ Molly said. ‘But I thought I knew you, that you cared.’

Ray gave a humourless laugh and his eyes glittered with dislike. ‘Cared?’ he said sardonically. ‘Cared for you, my dear? Wrong again, I am afraid. To me you were just a commodity, something to sell to make money from. I wouldn’t touch you with a bargepole.’

Molly was shaken by Ray’s words and she felt cold and lost inside. ‘And I thought that you were just being a gentleman,’ she said sadly.

Ray shook his head. There was no danger in telling her now. He didn’t intend to leave her alive long enough to pass it on to anyone. ‘No, I am not a gentleman, my dear. I prefer gentlemen.’ He laughed at the confusion in her eyes and went on, ‘To have sex with, I prefer men. Or to be more specific, boys, and the younger the better.’

Molly was so appalled that her lips retracted from her mouth in an expression of total contempt.

‘Don’t you sodding well look at me like that, you bloody excuse for a woman,’ he yelled at her. Then his punch knocked her to the ground and the kick rendered her unconscious.

Ray hauled her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. He could finish her off he thought, put a pillow over her head now, and it would all be over. He actually picked up the pillow, but couldn’t bring himself to do it and he put it down again. He needed Charlie, because he would have no qualms about finishing her off when he knew what she had done, and he’d have some idea where to hide the body too.

He checked his watch. He wouldn’t find Charlie at home at this time, though he had no idea where he would be either. He probably would not be home till the morning. Ray yawned suddenly, worn out with the events of the evening, and decided to make for his own place and grab a bit of kip.

It was as he was about to go out the front door that he remembered the money belt they had taken from Molly that he had put in a drawer and forgotten about. He took it out, opened it and stuffed all the notes and coins into his pocket before going out of the door, locking it behind him.

Will was still walking the streets, too churned up to return home, and when he saw Ray coming towards him from the direction of Collingsworth’s flat he wondered if Ray had killed the girl already. He had to know, and so though he would far rather have spread Ray’s length on the cobbles, he greeted him.

‘You still about?’ Ray said.

‘Yeah, but I’m off home now,’ Will answered, struggling to keep the disgust for the man from his voice. ‘Where you making for?’

‘Back to my own flat for a bit of a kip,’ Ray said. He had no idea that Will had listened in to the conversation he’d had with Collingsworth and yet he knew that it had been the chauffeur who had found the man at the bottom of the stairs because Collingsworth himself had told him that much, so he said now, ‘Bet you would like to know what it was all about, that shindig?’

Will shrugged. ‘If you like,’ he said, and added with a grim smile, ‘I have found Mr Collingsworth in many strange places, but that was about the most weird and, of course, being stark naked as well put the tin hat on it, as it were.’

‘Was he naked as well?’ Ray said incredulously. ‘Christ, he dain’t tell me that.’

‘I bet he didn’t,’ Will commented. ‘Well, what was it all about?’

He listened to the potted version of events that Ray fed him, but he made no mention of getting rid of the girl. What he did say, though, was, ‘Course, I was bloody mad, furious. I mean, what did she think she was there for? I gave her a good smacking, though Collingsworth had made a bloody mess of her first anyway. I knocked her clean out in the end and now I have locked her in the bedroom to stew. After I have grabbed a bit of shut-eye, I will have to run Charlie to ground because there is a little job I want him to do with me.’

Will knew exactly what that job was, and he felt sick. He couldn’t stand the man’s company any longer. ‘I’m away.’ he said. ‘I am bushed and chilled to the marrow.’

He swung away from Ray as he spoke. He knew he would have to walk home, for there were no trams running at that time of night, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had the long tramp home after a day’s work. Anyway, that night he almost felt glad of it, and hoped that by the time he reached home his mind would have stopped its leaping about and allow him to sleep.

His house was in darkness and he was glad of it as he tiptoed up the stairs. In the light from the landing he surveyed his sleeping wife, with her cheeks flushed pink and her brown hair spread out on the pillow, noting how sleep made her look so very vulnerable. As he slipped in beside her he thought of that young girl, just as vulnerable, who was unaware what was being planned for her and felt his whole body recoil in distaste.

He faced the fact that he wasn’t totally innocent either and it was no good pretending he was. Though he hadn’t known when he began working for Collingsworth, he was soon aware that Ray would pick up runaways at bus and train stations and then sell them on to the knocking shop, after keeping them at the flat, doping them up with the white powders and gin till they were so addicted to the stuff they would do what they were told, because if they didn’t their supplies were withheld.

He had never seen the girls concerned and had always told himself that it was none of his business. Now he listened to his wife’s even and untroubled breathing and, though his eyes were gritty with tiredness, he was far too emotionally charged to sleep. He knew that not far away this dreadful thing was going to take place and there was nothing he could do to stop it.