Everything was happening very quickly. The black car screeched to a halt just twenty-five yards in front of me, at the same time as I turned and ran for my life in the other direction. My only thought was not to be caught in the tommy-gun fire. There was nowhere to hide on the street, so I had no choice but to jump back into the van.
I threw myself at the open rear doors just as Carl was hitting the accelerator pedal. One of the rear lights right next to me exploded on being hit by a burst of gunfire. Strong arms dragged me into the van just as the doors slammed shut.
My memories of the return journey are hazy. The darkness in the van was filled with shouting and swearing. The vehicle swayed violently from side to side on the bends, causing my head to hit the metal wall behind me again and again.
By the time we stopped, I was feeling sick. And my heart was still pounding. The others in the back of the van were yelling and hammering the sides to be let out.
When the doors opened I could see we were back where we’d started. The Oswald Street gates were open and another of the stolen cars was already on its way into the backyard. Two of its tyres were punctured and one of the side mirrors had been shot off. Gordon was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
Kevin’s and Skinflint’s groups arrived back very soon after us. They too had been ambushed and forced to flee before setting off a single bottle bomb.
The atmosphere in the backyard was tense and heated. A number of the Kingsway Kings had been injured and were being tended by Lucky Lucy. One of them had had his right earlobe shot off and another had cut himself badly when falling over with a bottle bomb in his hand. A third member suffered a crushed finger when a car door slammed shut, and another had sprained an ankle during the general melee of the attack. Taking it all into account, I thought it was a small miracle that no one had suffered more than that. Or, indeed, been killed by gunfire.
The gunshots and the wild car journeys through the city had served only to liven up the existence of the tougher members of the Kingston Kings, but the rest of them were in a bad mood and wanted to know who had been shooting at them. And why.
“We’ve been tricked!” one of them yelled. “That Moira woman sent us off on some sort of suicide mission!”
“And where is she, anyway?” someone else shouted. “Bring her here and make her explain herself!”
Suddenly she was there, standing at the top of the steps leading to the staircase. Everyone turned to face her and the noise in the yard subsided. Moira’s face was like a mask as she looked out over the excited crowd of gang members and their bullet-ridden cars. A horrifying mask, pale as ivory and contorted with fury.
“Gordon,” she said in a harsh, metallic tone. “Come up to my office.”
Then she turned on her heel and with an erect back and something strangely rigid about her movements, she went back into the house.
By the time Gordon came back out to the yard, the atmosphere was a little calmer. It was thanks to Lucy. She had promised that tea and toast and marmalade would soon be served down in the club. She’d also brought a couple of bottles of whisky, which she passed around. They helped raise everyone’s spirits.
Gordon walked straight over to Cod-Eye and the Razor Queen. I was standing some way away, but I moved closer in order to eavesdrop.
“Right, what’s going on? Who opened fire on us?” Cod-Eye started by saying.
“No idea,” Gordon lied. “And it’s unimportant. For you and your men, anyway. All you need to know is that you should continue to guard this house. And you’ll get twenty pounds extra to share among yourselves for what you did tonight.”
“All right…” Cod-Eye said hesitantly. “Does that mean—”
“It doesn’t mean anything more than I’ve just said,” Gordon interrupted him. “Now go and make sure you place guards around the house.”
Cod-Eye looked less than pleased, but went to do what he’d been told. Once he was out of earshot, Gordon turned to Skinflint.
“Call the gang together,” he said in a low voice. “Moira wants a meeting. Now. Immediately.”
The two men exchanged serious looks.
“I understand…” Skinflint said quietly. “I understand…”
I understood too.
It was Tommy Tarantello’s men who had ambushed us. So, somehow or other, Tommy Tarantello must have learnt that Moira was going to hit the shops, pubs and dance halls he was paid to protect.
That could only mean one thing.
Moira had been betrayed yet again.
But by whom?
This, of course, was what she wanted to find out. And this was why she had called the gang to a meeting in her office.
My first thought was not to join them. I wasn’t really one of the gang and it was unlikely anyone would miss me. But then I happened to catch the Razor Queen’s eye. She was standing a short distance away, looking at me with her big, icy-blue eyes. That’s what made me decide to go to the meeting along with the others. If I didn’t, I’d be left alone with the Kingston Kings.