Bad Catholics (25 page)

‘When will you be back?'

She asked the question but she already knew the answer. Jimmy walked across and gently kissed Philomena on the cheek.

‘As soon as I can, Sister. Take her away, Janine.'

Janine gently put her arm on Philomena's shoulder and they walked away together. Vic looked at Jimmy in the doorway.

‘You're not going to try anything are you, Jimmy?'

‘Would it make a difference?'

‘Try if you like, it's all one to me.'

Vic walked to Jimmy and they went out of Bart's. On the street at the end of the alley next to the street lamp, a car waited with the engine running.

Jimmy went and stood by the car. Vic came to the back of the car to face him. The door wouldn't be between them when it opened and he could watch Jimmy all the way into the car and then get in after him.

‘Open the door and get in.'

Jimmy bent to open the door, Vic moved back slightly. Jimmy could see Sammy sitting at the wheel looking straight ahead.

Jimmy opened the door and then stood looking at Vic.

‘In you go, Jimmy.'

Jimmy stepped forward, took him gently in his arms, and lowered him onto the pavement. Sammy was out of the car very quickly, his hand already on the gun in his shoulder holster. He stopped when he saw the man on the pavement with the automatic fitted with a silencer pointing straight at him. Jimmy stood up with Vic's gun in his hand.

‘Any way you want it, Sammy.'

Sammy stood still and let both his hands fall by his sides in clear view. He was good but he wasn't stupid.

‘Nat isn't going to like this, Sammy. You've lost me, you've lost my money, and …' looking down at the body, ‘you've lost Vic, Nat's best boy.'

Sammy listened.

‘Get Vic into the car, Sammy. Go and put him somewhere, and if you take my advice have a holiday yourself. Nat hasn't got a forgiving nature, he doesn't like failures, and he hurts people who bring him bad news. You might make a good lesson for the others.'

Sammy thought for only a second, came round and bundled Vic's body into the back seat then slammed the door shut and got back in. The car pulled away. Jimmy turned to the man standing on the pavement, he was unscrewing the silencer.

‘Thanks.'

The man spoke with a strong Northern Irish accent. ‘You paid, the job's done. All I need from you now is the name you have for us, the man we owe a visit to.'

‘Nat Desmond.'

The man looked surprised. ‘Are you sure?'

Jimmy nodded.

‘I'm sure. I got it three years ago from someone who couldn't be wrong.'

‘Well, we will have to visit Mr Desmond.'

‘You know who he is?'

‘Oh yes, we know Mr Desmond, but we thought he kept to his own side of the street. OK, Mr Costello, we owed you a favour and now it's done, but one day you'll get a chance to say thanks properly. Money and one name doesn't settle this. We'll be in touch, don't you forget us now, will you?'

He turned away and walked down the street.

Jimmy put Vic's gun in his pocket and went back into Bart's. Philomena was sitting at a table in the empty dining room. She looked up when he came in with surprise on her face.

‘Jimmy, I thought …'

‘I know, so did he.'

‘What happened?'

‘I persuaded them it wasn't worth it. They left.' He smiled. ‘It's the blarney in me, Sister, I have a way with words.'

‘Were they the danger, Jimmy? What did I know about them? I knew nothing.'

‘If I hadn't come back you would have known who it was who came for me, the same man who came once before. I'd have disappeared, left the country, gone away. There would have been some story and after a while you'd have had an accident, and maybe Janine would have had one too. Then there'd be nothing and nobody to worry about. You were only a small risk, Sister, but our man doesn't take risks, not even small ones.'

‘But why did they kill Mrs Amhurst and Mrs Lally? How was there anything in that for them? And why did they want to kill you?'

Jimmy looked surprised.

‘They wanted me for old time's sake, it was a favour to important people. But what makes you think they killed Mrs Amhurst or Mrs Lally? What would they kill two old ladies for?'

‘You said it was Mr Amhurst's money?'

‘It was.'

Jimmy sat down opposite Philomena to break the bad news.

‘That was Janine.'

Philomena sat in shocked silence.

‘You're wrong,' she said after a while. ‘You must be wrong. She couldn't.'

‘I'm not wrong, Sister, she killed them both.'

‘Why?'

‘For some of Mr Amhurst's money. I don't know how she would have got it or how much she was to get but that's it. I could make a guess if you like.'

A voice cut into their talk. ‘Make a guess.'

Janine was standing in the kitchen doorway with two cups of tea. She looked different, her eyes were different, the way she held herself was different. This was somebody Jimmy had never met. Jimmy looked at Philomena who was looking at Janine.

‘Janine, did you hear what Jimmy said? You had nothing to do with this, did you?'

Janine came to the table, put down the cups of tea, and sat down. She took Philomena's hands tenderly in hers.

‘No, Sister, I don't know why Jimmy is saying this dreadful thing. He must know it's not true and it's upsetting you.' She looked at Jimmy. ‘What makes you say such things, Jimmy?'

This was the Janine he knew, she was back. ‘Because they are true, Janine, that's all.'

Philomena stood up. She looked from Janine to Jimmy, the two people she had come to care for most. She couldn't deal with it any more. She felt old and tired and beaten.

‘I'll go and do some work,' she said vaguely.

‘Go and lie on your bed and rest, Sister,' said Janine. ‘I'll bring you some tea soon and we'll say a decade of the rosary together.' She smiled.

Philomena smiled back. ‘I will, Janine. I feel a bit tired. Tea will be nice, and the rosary together.'

She turned and left the dining room. Janine and Jimmy sat in silence until the sound of her feet on the stairs had gone.

‘You were going to guess out loud, remember?' The new Janine had returned.

‘You visited people, Janine, you talked to them and they talked to you. You visited Lucy Amhurst and you talked about their idea for the will. You were going to make sure you got some of the money. You were going to be a good cause, probably that project in Goa, they would leave you some money for that. Once you were sure you had her you got rid of her. After a while, when everything had settled down and you had worked on Mr Amhurst and the will was made, he would go.'

Janine looked at him and smiled. It was not a nice smile. ‘Not very good, Jimmy. And how did I kill her?'

It was Jimmy's turn to smile.

‘I owe you for that. It saved my life tonight. You used the back yard. It opens on to the street. You spilled something in the kitchen as Mrs Amhurst was leaving and got Philomena to help clear it up. You told her you were going to get a bucket, something like that. You went to the yard. The street was clear so you slipped round to the car and knifed Mrs Amhurst. Then you're back before anyone has seen anything. You probably rehearsed it a few times with variations before everything was just right.'

Janine's manner became relaxed. ‘You've got nothing.'

‘I've got Mrs Lally. You were there.'

‘So was the man on the stairs.'

‘What man on the stairs? Your unsupported word puts a man of no description on the stairs. But you were there. You were here when Mrs Amhurst got it and you were there when Mrs Lally got it. If the same person is at two scenes of crime with the same method, that's enough for me or any copper who cares enough to notice. I don't know why you knifed Mrs Lally. My guess is she found something in the yard, maybe Mrs Amhurst's handbag. You had to put it somewhere and the bins were to hand. Maybe she told you she'd found it and asked your advice about what to do. Anyway, she had to go so you did what you did.'

‘You think you're a clever man, Jimmy, but all this only exists in your head, there's no proof. Go to the police and they'll charge you with wasting their time.'

Jimmy looked puzzled. ‘What are you talking about? Why would I go to the police? They've got someone for the Amhurst killing and they aren't interested in the Lally woman. What have the police got to do with any of this?'

‘So what are you going to do? You have no evidence, nothing you've said will stand up in any court.'

Jimmy spoke slowly. ‘I don't give a toss what happens to you but I do care about me and Philomena and perhaps I care enough about Mr Amhurst to save his life. Philomena knows you did it, I told her and I'll explain the hows and the whys so she'll be sure. I wouldn't want to read about Mr Amhurst having an accident so I'll see he knows how it is as well.' He sat back. ‘There's going to be no money in this for you, Janine. You get nothing.'

Janine stood up, her face bright with anger.

‘You little fucking shit, do you think your lies worry me? I want to do God's work and God is with me. I will build my school and my clinic and my orphanage because it's God's will, and God will punish you for your filthy lies.'

Jimmy stood up and faced her. ‘Janine, I don't like you, you kill people. I'll take my chances with God, but if I ever meet you again, if we pass in the street, if we sit in the same restaurant, if I see you anywhere near me, I'll think the worst and I'll kill you before you kill me. There are no coincidences with you, Janine, so make no mistake, if I ever see you again I'll kill you without a second thought. Now get out.'

Janine spat full in his face, then turned and left the room.

Jimmy was sitting in the chair by the stairs when Janine came down and swept past him. She had a small rucksack on her back.

He got up and closed the front door behind her. The lock was smashed but the bolts at the top and bottom worked.

He turned, stood for a moment, and sniffed. It was a smell he recognised.

He went to his cupboard and filled a bucket with water, took it upstairs and threw it on the small fire that was beginning to burn merrily on the bed in Janine's room. He put down the bucket and went to his own room, packed his few belongings, and sat for a short while on his bed looking at an envelope which was addressed to Sister Philomena. Eventually he got up, walked down the corridor and gently pushed open her door.

The light was still on but she was on the bed, fast asleep. He went into the room, put the envelope on her table in clear view, then switched off the room light and went out. He went back to his own room, tidied up, collected his bag and anorak and went down to the hall. He left his bag in the hall and went to Philomena's office and got the carrier bag with the money he had collected from his safety deposit box, then went back into the hall, put on his anorak, and picked up his bag. He would have liked to have stayed for the night but he couldn't. He had done all he could. He walked through the dining room into the kitchen and opened the back door to the bin yard. He set the catch for the door to lock and pulled it shut.

Kilburn, October 1991

Jimmy was woken by the ringing of the front door bell. As he sat up on the settee where he'd eventually fallen asleep, the bell rang again. Jimmy felt stiff and awkward. Denny's gun was still in his pocket and he had been lying on it. His side hurt and he knew he was a mess. He felt it, he didn't need to look in a mirror. The bell rang again. Someone was getting impatient. Jimmy looked at his watch, seven o'clock. Whoever it was liked to be up and about early. The bell rang again. They weren't going away, soon the door would be kicked in. Jimmy went and opened it.

‘Hello, Jimmy.'

‘Hello, Vic.'

The big man stood with his hands in his pockets.

‘Nat told me to collect you, Jimmy. You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?'

Denny's gun appeared in Jimmy's hand. It was casually pointed at Vic's stomach.

‘It depends what you call trouble, Vic.'

Vic didn't move, he especially didn't move his hands. ‘Silly move, Jimmy, guns aren't your style. Put it away before someone gets hurt.'

Jimmy shot him in the thigh and Vic went down with an oath. Two men were out of the car and at the gate.

‘Get fucking back,' shouted Vic, holding his thigh, sitting on the path. The men stopped. Curtains twitched at an upstairs window across the street.

‘You're right, Vic, guns aren't my style. I might have missed you altogether or I might have blown your balls off. I wouldn't try to make me use it again.'

Jimmy was watching the two men at the gate while he spoke but the gun was still pointed at Vic. Vic pulled himself to his feet.

‘OK, Jimmy, have it your way. You know you're dead?'

‘We all get dead sometime, Vic. Nobody gets out alive.'

Vic hobbled back to the car. The car drove off and Jimmy closed the door and went into the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table, where he had so often sat with Bernadette. The remains of yesterday's funeral drinks were on the table or in the sink.

‘Maybe I should have done sandwiches,' he said out loud. ‘They should have had something to eat as well.'

After a while he got up, made some tea, and found some notepaper and a pen. He wrote a short letter, put it in an envelope, sealed it, and put it in his jacket pocket. He leaned back in the chair with his hands on the table, and waited.

Jimmy sat for a long time, the untasted tea and the gun in front of him. Weird unconnected thoughts filled his head. He wasn't thinking, just watching the thoughts as they came and went. Eventually the front door bell rang. Police or Nat, he wondered. He hoped it was Nat. It was.