his head — ‘cor. . I mean, cor blimey, just think of that. . all this know-how and a twenty-five-year-old body, I’d be the King of London, never mind Kilburn. Well, it comes to us all sooner or later, for you it’ll be sooner. It was Sonya who put us on to you. . you were just too clean and well-preserved.’
‘Sonya?’
‘Yeah, the big girl at the house. She’s a good girl. . put us on to Billy too, she did. She’s doing alright for herself she is, she’s set to climb.’
‘What about Billy? He’s just a boy.’
‘He’s just a boy with a loud mouth. . too much rabbit; he just can’t keep his old north and south shut. He’s a liability we can do without.’
‘I feel sick. .’ Yewdall stumbled on the rough surface of the meadow.
‘It’s the smoke, it’s not good for you,’ Yates laughed, then he paused and said, ‘All. . all because of that idiot Dalkeith. I told him to bury a body here, in this meadow, but what does he do? Buries her on Hampstead Heath. Yes, he digs a hole here and plants a tree, knowing I would not dig it up and check. Rosie Halkier, she should have been down there at the bottom end.’ He turned to look at the meadow. ‘Down there with that meddling cook, Tessie O’Shea. They were plotting against me and Gail, but we got to them first, and if Dalkeith had done the job like I told him, none of this would have come out. He left me with a right old mess to clean up, and you. . you’ll never see twenty-six. . you’ve got Irish Mickey Dalkeith to thank for that. Well, let’s get back to the barn, it’s cold out here.’
Upon re-entering the barn, Yewdall saw that Billy Kemp lay curled up on the floor clutching his stomach, breathing with difficulty.
‘He tried to do a runner,’ Gail Bowling explained, ‘so Rusher tapped him.’
‘Nice one, Rusher.’ Yates smiled approvingly. ‘Better fasten him, Henry.’
‘Yes, boss.’ Henry took a length of chain and padlocked one end to a large item of machinery, and the other end he padlocked round Billy Kemp’s ankle.
Yates pushed Penny Yewdall over towards Billy Kemp and, taking a small key, unlocked the chain round her left wrist, and then padlocked the end to the chain which held Billy Kemp captive.
‘That’s a nice sight.’ Gail Bowling gazed approvingly on the captive forms of Penny Yewdall and Billy Kemp. ‘That really is a very nice sight.’
‘When do we do them?’ Yates turned to Bowling.
‘Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon late, early evening, when dusk is falling. . give them time to think about things. Bet you never thought your last twenty-four hours in this life would be spent in a barn in Hertfordshire, did you, Constable?’ Bowling asked with a smile. ‘And such a pretty girl. . what a waste.’
Yewdall did not reply.
‘Thank you for not telling us that we won’t get away with it. . because we will. We have been getting away with it for years. . but you’ve seen the cherry trees. . no one knows what they mean. No one knows what’s underneath them. If you scream. . well, you can scream, because no one will hear you, but if you do, Henry will come and tap you, won’t you, Henry?’
‘Damn right, I will.’
‘Packer will be in the house keeping warm but awake all night, won’t you, Henry? Just one mighty blow from his fist to your stomach will keep you quiet. I mean, look at him — ’ Gail Bowling pointed to the curled-up figure of Billy Kemp — ‘he won’t be saying anything for a while. . and shouting. . well, forget it.
‘So, we’ll leave you — we have a dinner party to attend; got to get back home and get dressed for it. . but there’s nothing like a trip to the country to put an edge on your appetite.’
Bowling and Yates left the barn. Henry Packer followed shortly afterwards, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.
Yewdall tugged at the chain and then gave up. The only sound was the wheezing Billy Kemp.
Harry Vicary forced the door of 123 Claremont Road and stormed into the hall, followed by Brunnie and Ainsclough, and four uniformed constables. He yelled, ‘Police!’ and then turned to the constables. ‘Search the house. Bring everyone down to the kitchen.’
The only person in the house at the time proved to be Sonya Clements, who was dragged protesting into the kitchen.
‘So where is she?’
‘Who?’
‘My officer!’
‘Your officer?’
‘Yes. .’ Vicary snarled, ‘my officer, Penny Yewdall.’
‘Penny’s a cop!’ Clements gasped.
‘Yes. . Penny’s a cop and Yates has her. Yates is finished and everyone associated with him is finished too. So where is she?’
‘Don’t know! Honest. She was driven off about an hour ago.’
‘Who drove her off!’
‘Dunno. . Rusher did. . her and Billy Kemp.’
‘Where did they go?’
‘I don’t know. . look, I’m just a girl, I don’t know anything.’
‘But you know Rusher works for Yates!’
‘Yes. .’
‘So what do you do for Yates?’
‘Just a gofer, fetch and deliver stuff — just little stuff. Do what I’m told.’
‘Take her in, suspicion of handling stolen property.’ Vicary paused. ‘That’ll do for now. . but listen you,’ he addressed Sonya, ‘listen, we are wrapping up Yates. He’s going down and he’ll be well tucked-up for a long time. So right now it’s just handling stolen goods, but if anything happens to Penny it could be conspiracy to murder a police officer. . and when a firm like Yates’s firm starts collapsing, everyone is out to save themselves. Everyone starts squealing like a sty full of stuck pork, it’s a hell of a racket, and we’ll then find out what has gone on and who has done what. So, do some thinking while you’re in the van and start working for yourself. Alright, take her away!’ Two constables dragged a wide-eyed and worried looking Sonya Clements out of the house and into a police van.
‘Take the house apart.’ Vicary spoke to Ainsclough and the two remaining officers. ‘I don’t know what you are looking for but take the place apart.’ He tapped Frankie Brunnie on the shoulder and said, ‘Come with me.’
Vicary walked aggressively out of the house, turned on to Fernhead Road, and headed to the offices of WLM Rents. He and Brunnie entered aggressively. The manager stood reverentially as they entered, and managed to say, ‘Good afternoon, gent-’ before Vicary grabbed his lapels, pulled him over the desk and threw him on the floor. ‘Penny Yewdall,’ he shouted. ‘Where is she?’
‘Who?’ The youthful manager looked shocked and frightened. He was one Nicholas Batty, by his name badge.
‘My officer!’
‘Your officer,’ he stammered.
‘Yes, Metropolitan Police. . and my officer was driven away about an hour ago by Curtis Yates’s thugs. .’
‘I just look after the office.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yes. .’
‘We’ll find out, we’ll find out everything.’
Brunnie leaned forward, and taking the man by his lapels, once again, he pulled him to his feet and brushed the man’s jacket. ‘You’re out of work, sunshine.’
‘Out. .’
‘Of work,’ Vicary completed the sentence for him. ‘Yates is finished, his firm is on the way out and we’ll find out the extent of everyone’s involvement.’
‘Including yours, Nicky boy,’ Brunnie added, ‘including yours.’
Vicary’s mobile vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and snatched it open. ‘Yes!’ He listened. He then said, ‘It doesn’t look like she’s here either.’ He snapped the phone shut. He turned to Brunnie. ‘She’s not at Piccadilly.’
‘So now what?’ Brunnie kept hold of Nicholas Batty’s arm.
