She's Out Read online

  ‘Who by?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘You, and it’s paid for, so why not? Get in, Mrs Rawlins.’ Dolly looked at the prison, then back to the car in which there was a small bouquet of roses, a bottle of champagne, and an invitation. ‘I don’t understand, who did this?’

  The chauffeur eased her in and shut the door. Dolly opened the invitation.

  Dear Dolly,

  Some of your friends have arranged a ‘SHE’S OUT’ party. Take a drive around London and then call us. Here’s to your successful future, and hoping you will join us for a slap up dinner and a knees-up,

  Ester

  Dolly read and reread the invitation. She knew Ester Freeman but she’d not been that friendly with her.

  ‘Where would you like to go, Mrs Rawlins?’

  She leaned back, still nonplussed. ‘Oh, just drive around, will you? See the sights.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  She saw the portable phone positioned by his seat. She leaned forward and picked up the phone.

  ‘Call any place you want, Mrs Rawlins.’

  She turned the phone over in her hand, never having seen one before, and then she smiled softly. ‘My husband would have loved one of these,’ she whispered.

  Chapter 2

  James ‘Jimmy’ Donaldson was a small, sandy-haired man. He looked younger than his fifty-five years because he was so compact and his hair was thick with a deep widow’s peak at the temple. He was exceedingly nervous, having been brought from a woodwork class to be confronted by DCI Craigh and DS Mike Withey. The prison officers left the three men alone, which seemed to unnerve Donaldson even more, and his eyes darted back and forth from one man to the other.

  Craigh asked quietly if he knew a woman called Dorothy Rawlins. Donaldson shook his head, then shifted his buttocks on the chair to sit on his hands, as if afraid they would give him away because they were shaking.

  ‘You sure about that, Jimmy?’

  He nodded, blinking rapidly, as Craigh, still speaking softly, asked him about the diamonds.

  ‘I don’t know anything about them,’ he stuttered.

  ‘She’s out today, Jimmy. Dolly Rawlins is out.’ Craigh began to wander around the small, cold room, suggesting that if Donaldson could assist them, then perhaps they could make things much easier for him, maybe even get the authorities to move him to a nice, cushy open prison.

  Two hours later, Donaldson was taken from Brixton Prison to their local nick. It was done fast and Craigh made sure that it was put out that Donaldson required a small operation, just in case the word spread they had got him, so that when and if they sent him back he wouldn’t be subjected to threats for grassing. All he had admitted so far was that he might know about the diamonds but he refused to say anything more unless he was taken out of the jail.

  On the journey he brightened up at the prospect of being moved, even going home to visit his wife. Craigh had laughed. ‘Don’t get too excited, Jimmy, because we’ll need to know more – a lot more. You’re doing time for fencing hot gear right now and we’ve not got much sway with the prison authorities. All we do is catch ’em, the rest is not down to us unless you have some very good information.’

  It was almost six thirty by the time Donaldson was taken into the station, and he was given some dinner before they really began to pressure him. He admitted that he knew Dolly Rawlins but he had known her husband better, and had held the stones for her as a favour. When asked if Rawlins instigated the diamond raid, he swore he didn’t know and he was certain that Mrs Rawlins couldn’t have done it because she was a woman. He knew she had killed her husband but word was he’d been fooling around with a young bit of fluff who’d had a kid by him. At the time of the shooting, there were many rumours around as to what had happened, but the truth had always been shrouded by mystery – and fear, because Harry Rawlins was a formidable and exceptionally dangerous man, nicknamed the ‘Octopus’ because he seemed to have so many arms in so many different businesses. No one was ever sure how much power he had but a lot of men known to have crossed him had disappeared.

  Harry Rawlins had instigated a raid on an armoured truck: the plan had been to ram it inside the Strand underpass but the raid had gone disastrously wrong. The explosives used by his team had blown their own truck to smithereens; four men inside had died, their charred bodies unrecognizable. Dolly Rawlins had been given a watch, a gold Rolex from the blackened wrist of one of the dead men. She had buried his remains, the funeral an ornate affair, with wreaths from every main criminal in England. In many instances they were sent not out of sympathy, but relief.

  Dolly Rawlins had been in deep shock. The husband she had worshipped for twenty years was gone, and the void in her life could not be filled, made worse by the pressure from villains trying to take over her husband’s manor. Her grief had turned to anger when they approached her at his graveside, but then to icy fury. When she found Harry’s detailed plans for the abortive robbery, Dolly Rawlins drew together the widows of the men who had died alongside him in the truck. She manipulated and cajoled them into repeating the raid that had taken their men. Always a strong-minded woman, Dolly grew more confident and arrogant each day. Her belief that they could handle it quelled their fears, and her constant encouragement and furious determination ensured that they not only succeeded in pulling off one of the most daring armed robberies ever, but she also made sure they got away with it. She had been doing it for Harry, using his carefully laid plans. Never for one moment had she believed or even contemplated his betrayal.

  Harry Rawlins was alive. He had been the only one to escape from the nightmare raid that killed his men. Rawlins had arranged that when the raid was over, he would never return to his wife, and would leave Dolly for his mistress, a twenty-five-year-old girl. To his stunned amazement, Harry Rawlins had watched as Dolly went ahead with the raid, and laughed because he knew that if she succeeded he would take the money. Her audacity amused him. Safe in his girlfriend’s apartment, he had watched and waited, had played with his baby girl, the child Dolly had craved to give him. But Harry Rawlins had underestimated his wife.

  Dolly succeeded in the raid and she also found out the terrible truth. She never confronted him – it would have been too dangerous, not for herself but for the other women concerned. Instead she planned their escape from England, leaving him penniless and desperate.

  For a while the widows had lived high but the bulk of the money became a monster they could not control. Dolly returned to England where she knew Harry would come after her. And she waited, while planning another robbery: the diamond raid. She used the same women, the widows, but this time not everything had gone according to plan. One of them, Linda Pirellie, was killed in an automobile accident; a second, the young, beautiful Shirley Miller, was shot during the robbery. Dolly got away with the diamonds but the police net was drawing in. Yet again she reacted as her husband would have. She knew Jimmy Donaldson could be trusted; small-time he might be but he had done a lot of work for Harry in the past and had never been charged so she used that as a lever to ensure that he would keep the diamonds safe. She could have got away with it but something was more important than the diamonds: her guilt about little Shirley had pushed her to Audrey, Shirley’s mother, because she felt she owed her a debt. She was the only other person she felt she could trust, because Dolly had used Audrey in the first raid when they had escaped from England. Audrey would be unlikely to go to the police and she was broke, so the promise of a cut of the diamonds would atone for the shock and grief of Shirley’s death. All Dolly had asked Audrey to do was wait and in time she would get her share. She had not said how long the wait would be as she didn’t know herself. Because even though she might just get away with murder, in truth she hadn’t cared. All she had wanted, more than any millions, had been to get revenge. So Audrey had wept but had agreed to take the diamonds to Jimmy and had delivered them that same night, as Dolly had instructed. The agreement had been that they would have no further
contact until Dolly gave the word. Neither Jimmy nor Audrey knew that, as they met, Dolly was waiting for Harry with a .22.

  Harry had been relieved, the hiding-out over. He had known as soon as she saw him that he would be able to talk her round, make her believe that he’d had to lie low because he would have been arrested. He had allowed her to go through the charade of a funeral because if he hadn’t, the filth would have known he was still alive. So he had waited, confident he could manipulate her. Never had he considered the pain he had caused her, the terrible grief he had put her through, the wife who had stood by him for twenty years.

  Harry had smiled when Dolly approached and had taken a few steps towards her. He had still been smiling when she fired at point-blank range into his heart.

  Dolly Rawlins was arrested and charged with manslaughter, a nine-year sentence to be served at Holloway Prison. She had never stopped loving him and the pain never did go away, but the years eased it. In prison she embraced the hurt inside her, like the child she was never able to conceive.

  Jimmy Donaldson hadn’t found out the truth – nobody had – but his fear of Harry Rawlins remained. He hid the diamonds and stuck to his story throughout the lengthy question-and-answer session following his removal from prison by DCI Craigh. He never mentioned Audrey’s name. All he admitted to was having received a package from Dolly Rawlins. Even after his subsequent arrest for fencing, he remained silent about the diamonds. In reality, he had been too scared to fence them or mention them to anyone else. Now he began to talk.

  ‘She’s a tough bitch, you know, hard as nails. Everyone knew how much her old man depended on her – gave him more alibis than you had hot dinners, mate.’

  Donaldson became quite cocky as he told them how Dolly had promised he’d get a nice reward for keeping her property safe.

  ‘So where are they, Jimmy?’ asked Craigh.

  Donaldson pursed his lips. Well, that would be telling. I mean, you gonna let me see my wife?’

  Craigh became tougher, prodding him with his finger. We make the deals, Jimmy, not you. You’re lucky we’re not gonna slap more years on for not coming out with this at your trial.’

  ‘Fuckin’ hell, you bastards, you just been stringing me along. Well, no more, no way, I retract everythin’ I said, I dunno anythin’.’

  The truth was that Craigh was in no position to offer a deal until he had spoken to the prison authorities and to Donaldson’s parole officer to see if they could get him moved. Mike was eager for them to make any promise and he was the one who asked Donaldson if Dolly Rawlins had contacted him since she had been in Holloway.

  ‘No, never – she’s not stupid. But a few times I sort of felt a finger on the back of the neck, so to speak.’

  Donaldson never divulged that Dolly Rawlins had quite a hold over him because of all the other times he had fenced stolen gear for her husband. Donaldson would have been put away for a lot longer than five years. Dolly had known about his background and his work for Harry and she had virtually blackmailed him into holding on to the diamonds. Now he felt almost relief because they seemed to want to put her away again and it would mean he was free of her.

  ‘How is she going to collect the diamonds?’

  ‘Well, she’ll call me. She was never arrested or charged for that gig, was she? I mean, nobody knows she’s got them, do they?’ Mike Withey was also relieved. At no point had Donaldson mentioned the part his own mother, Audrey, had played.

  Still not knowing the location of the diamonds, Craigh and Palmer talked it over with the Super and decided to take Donaldson to his home and give it a few days to see if Rawlins made contact.

  When Donaldson knew he was going home, would see his wife – even if a police officer was to be with him at all times – he told them where the stones were hidden. His wife still ran his junk and antique shop and the main wall had a four-brick hideaway; if they removed the bricks, they would find the gems.

  Craigh and Palmer thumped each other; it had worked like a little jewel up to now and there was, or had been, a whopper of a reward out for the return of the stones. They congratulated Mike, who was well chuffed because if it did pan out, if Dolly Rawlins contacted Donaldson, if they got the diamonds and had Donaldson handed them over to her, they could arrest her and have her sent right back to prison. Rest in peace, Shirley Miller.

  Dolly stood outside her old house in Totteridge. She stared at the new curtains, the fresh paint. It no longer was or had any part in her life but for the twenty years of her marriage that was where she lived. She had always been house proud, and it had been a show palace. Harry entertained regularly and she had always set a nice table with good, home-cooked food. She had thought she was happy, had believed he was, too, but nothing had prepared her for his betrayal and, as she stood there, she clenched her hands, not wanting to break down, refusing to after all these years. He had forced her into a grief-driven fury – she had even buried him when all the time he had been alive. Alive and cheating on her. It was so bizarre, so insane what she had done, what she had become. She had confronted him, and even when he faced her, knowing that she knew everything, he had still been so sure of her love for him that he had opened his arms and said, ‘I love you, Doll.’

  She had pulled the trigger then, almost nine years ago, and she had served the sentence for his murder. She was free now. She walked back to the waiting chauffeur and he opened the car door for her.

  ‘That was my home,’ she said softly.

  He helped her inside the car.

  ‘Now it’s someone else’s.’ She seemed so sad and lost he felt sorry for her, but she suddenly gave him a sweet smile.

  ‘Can I use this portable phone, then?’

  Ester grabbed the phone after two rings, knew it had to be Dolly. Only she knew the new number: she’d got it when the phone had been reconnected. She was right. Dolly was on her way. Ester sighed with relief and then hurried into the dining room.

  The table was almost ready but Gloria and Kathleen were having a go at each other. ‘She’s drinking, Ester. I keep telling her not to get pissed.’

  Ester snatched up one of the bottles as Kathleen shouted that all she was doing was getting them ready for the decanters, recorked the bottle and banged it on to the table. ‘She’s on her way, and as soon as those lads are finished we’d all better have a talk, get us all sorted. She’s not stupid so we got to make this look good. Where’s Connie?’

  ‘I’m here. I’ve been repairing my nails. I’ve chipped two already – they’re not supposed to be in too much water, you know.’

  Gloria raised her eyes to heaven as Connie showed off her false-tipped nails. Ester told her to start bringing up extra chairs from the cellar. She had to show her the way and as they walked down the hall, Connie pulled her to one side. ‘What were they in prison for?’

  Ester told her that Gloria had been in for a long stretch for fencing stolen guns and Kathleen was in for forgery and kiting.

  ‘And what about Julia? What was she in for?’

  Gloria appeared, overhearing. The doc was in for sellin’ prescriptions. She was a junkie.’

  Connie flushed with embarrassment.

  ‘I heard you, Ester. I wasn’t done for the guns, that was a total frame-up. I was stitched up.’

  Ester sighed, already sick and tired of Gloria. She ushered Connie along to the cellar door, which led down to saunas, steam rooms and the old laundry. There was also a gymnasium, showers and changing cubicles, all from the days when the manor had been a health farm.

  Connie went down to inspect the chairs as most of the ones in the dining room were broken. Confronted by banks of mirrors, she couldn’t resist looking at herself and pouting, and jumped with nerves when the droll voice of Julia asked what she was doing. Connie squinted in the semi-darkness, looking over the stack of chairs. ‘I love to work out, I do it whenever I can – it’s like a fix.’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I meant, you kno
w, not fix fix but like … er …’

  ‘I know what you mean. You worked for Ester, right? What were you, then?’

  ‘I’m a model. I don’t do any of that kind of thing now, not any more.’

  Julia smiled. ‘Well, I don’t use drugs, you’re not selling that lovely body, so we both seem to have improved our lives, don’t we?’

  Julia banged out and Connie sighed. She hated it when anyone insinuated she was or had been a prostitute. But that was what she had been, like it or not. Then when Lennie, who she had trusted – believed had loved her – had tried to make her go back on the game it had hurt because she had dreamed of being a model, a proper one, one that kept her clothes on. She had written to agents and now, with all the work done on her face, she reckoned she might even get a TV commercial. She had big plans for herself: she would have a big-time photographer do a good contact sheet, send out a portfolio. She was sure she could have a chance. Lennie had laughed and told her she was too old, told her that was the reason he had paid for her surgery, so she could make money on her back, but she had refused. Connie sat down on one of the dusty chairs and started to cry. He didn’t touch her face, at least he didn’t ruin that, but her body was still covered in bruises and she had said she would do whatever he wanted, just for him to leave her alone. The following morning Ester had called, not to ask her to go on the game as she had first thought, but to give her a chance of cashing in on a lot of money. Connie had grabbed the chance, thrown a few things into a case and done a runner. She knew Lennie would be going crazy, knew he would be out looking for her: he’d want his money back for the surgery at the very least, but Ester had said that she’d have more money than she would know what to do with so she had packed up and run for it. Now she wasn’t so sure about all this big money. She’d never really met Dolly Rawlins.

  ‘What the hell are you doin’ down here?’ yelled Gloria.

  Connie picked up the chair and walked out, past her.

  ‘You see any big trays around here? Ester said we need one.’