‘I’m warning you, Elsie, don’t be late for work today. As it is, Miss Garrett intends to have words with you. You don’t want to upset her more than she already is,’ Johnny said as he pulled on his coat. ‘Come on, get up.’
‘But, Johnny, it’s so cold. I want to stay under these warm covers,’ Elsie answered and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
‘Get dressed, that’ll keep you warm.’
‘I had a lovely, thick dressing gown when I lived with Jacob. He bought it for me from Harrods. It had matching slippers too.’
‘’Ere,’ Johnny said impatiently. He took his dressing gown from the back of a chair and threw it on the bed. ‘It ain’t from Harrods but it’ll have to do.’
Elsie looked at the dressing gown with disdain. ‘I want a new one. My own one.’
‘Then get out of bed, go to work and you can buy yourself one with your wages. Christ, Elsie, what you earn is for you to spend on yourself. It’s not like I’m taking money from you towards bills and food, is it?’
‘Huh, even four weeks’ wages from the café wouldn’t be enough to buy anything from Harrods. Don’t you want me looking nice?’
‘Of course I do. You always look lovely.’
‘I don’t. I look like a cheap washerwoman. Jacob would never have allowed me to lower my standards and wear dresses from the Co-op, yet that’s all I’ll be able to afford.’
Elsie’s bottom lip pouted. Johnny thought she looked like a spoiled child and that she was behaving like one too. He didn’t have time for one of her tantrums this morning and kissed her forehead.
‘I’ve got to go. I’ll try and find time today to get you something nice. Now, be a good girl and get up and go to work.’
He headed out, leaving Elsie sulking in his bed. He had bigger things on his mind and Elsie with her desire for expensive dresses seemed trivial to him.
Johnny pulled up outside Miss Garrett’s and tooted his horn. She soon appeared and as she climbed into the car, Johnny tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.
‘Keeping you up, are we?’ she asked.
‘No, sorry, just knackered after all that excitement last night.’
‘It was a bit crazy.’
‘How’s Dina?’ Johnny asked.
‘She’ll live, but her hands ain’t in good shape. The poor woman, I don’t know how she found the strength to free them like she did. She’s pissed off with me. She reckons whenever I’m around, she nearly gets killed.’
‘Dina is always pissed off with someone. But, yeah, you’re right about how strong she is. I don’t know if I could have done what she did and I’m a tough bloke.’
‘Well, as I explained to Dina, a certain person is going to pay for it. Did you bring Max’s axe?’
‘Yeah, it’s wrapped up in a cloth under your seat.’
‘Good. Let’s go. He won’t be expecting us at this time of the morning.’
It was still dark when they pulled up outside Geert’s house. Johnny got out of the car first and looked up and down the quiet street. This was a well-to-do area of Battersea, a far cry from the rows of two-up, two-downs that he was more familiar with. He glanced up at the large house where Geert was reported to live and saw a thin sliver of light from behind the curtain of an upstairs window.
‘Someone’s home,’ he said.
‘Good. Knock on the door.’
Johnny loudly rapped the heavy brass knocker three times and waited. No one came to the door. ‘Do you want me to kick it in?’ he asked.
‘No, that will draw too much attention. Knock again.’
He did but still no one answered.
‘What now?’ he asked.
‘Have you got your penknife?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jemmy the window. It’s a sash, so you should be—’
‘—Yeah, I know how to do it,’ Johnny interrupted.
He squeezed past a large shrub in front of the downstairs bay window and after a few minutes of fiddling, he managed to slide his knife between the frame and the inside lock.
‘I’m in,’ he called quietly to Georgina.
After carefully lifting the window, Johnny clambered through. Inside, he found the room in darkness and as he stepped forward, he bumped into a table, nearly knocking off a vase. He could hardly see a thing. Geert could be hiding in a corner waiting to jump him, so Johnny reached into his pocket and pulled out his gun before treading cautiously through the room. He opened a door to the passageway and heard a muffled noise coming from upstairs. He thought it sounded like a woman calling for her mother.
Johnny ignored the sounds and dashed along the hall to open the front door for Georgina. She marched in carrying Max the Axe’s tomahawk. He wondered what she intended doing with it and assumed she was going to lodge it in Geert’s skull, though he thought it was a strange choice of weapon for her. But it would be quieter than firing her gun and she’d already made it clear that she didn’t want the neighbours to hear what was going on.
‘What’s that noise?’ Georgina asked.
‘I don’t know. It sounds like a woman crying.’
‘Any sign of him?’
‘I haven’t checked down here, but at this time of the morning, I reckon he’s probably still in bed.’
‘All right, but still check these rooms. I’ll wait here in case he tries to sneak downstairs and out of the front door.’
Johnny found all the other rooms in darkness and returned to say to Georgina, ‘If he’s here, he’s upstairs.’
She led the way and he followed close behind her. The sound of the woman crying became louder. It was coming from a room at the back of the house and walking quietly towards it, Georgina opened the door. The light in the room was on but Johnny couldn’t see much past Georgina, but when she stepped to one side he gasped at the sight of an old woman lying skew-whiff in a large bed. Her matted white hair and pale face gave her a ghostly appearance and the smell that emanated from her turned his stomach.
‘Who the fuck is she?’ Johnny asked.
The old woman didn’t seem to notice them in her room and continued calling for her mother.
‘I don’t know, maybe she’s Geert’s mother, the poor cow. He’s obviously not taking good care of her.’
Johnny heard a door open further along the landing and stepped out of the woman’s bedroom, just as Geert ran past him. ‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ he yelled.
Geert was halted in his tracks, and when he turned to see a gun pointed at him, the colour drained from his face.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Georgina said sweetly when she too walked out of the old woman’s bedroom. ‘Didn’t you hear us knocking?’
Geert looked down the stairs to the front door and Johnny warned, ‘Don’t even think about trying to make a run for it. You ain’t faster than my bullets.’
‘Who’s the old girl?’ Georgina asked.
‘My… my wife,’ Geert stuttered. ‘She’s unwell.’
‘I can see that. Now then, Geert, let’s have a chat. Maybe in your kitchen,’ Georgina said and walked towards the stairs. ‘After you,’ she added, indicating with her gun.
Johnny followed, his mind racing. Geert had said the old lady was his wife. He thought she must be a good thirty years older than him and wondered why he’d married her. He didn’t like the idea of it!
In the kitchen, Georgina instructed Geert to turn the light on.
Johnny blinked and when his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he saw the well-appointed kitchen was a mess. Bowls and plates were piled in the sink. The rubbish bin overflowed and there were half-empty bottles of milk scattered along the kitchen worktops.
‘Sit down,’ Georgina calmly said to Geert.
The man looked visibly shaken as he sat at a large farmhouse type table.
‘Close the door, Johnny,’ she ordered and turned back to Geert with a sickly smile.
‘I know why you’re here. I’m sorry, I had no choice. Oleg made me tell him everything,’ Geert blurted.
‘Is that right? I understand he paid you well?’
‘No, no, no, no, no, no. He never paid me a penny. He threatened to kill my wife. I had to tell him.’
‘That’s a very different story to the one I’ve heard. But you artistic sorts are very creative. Seems you’re creative with your tales too.’
‘No, Miss Garrett, I swear I’m telling the truth.’
‘Of course you are, Geert, that’s what they all say. But I know a liar when I see one. Tell me, did you go to Oleg purely for money?’
Geert covered his face with his hands and slowly nodded. ‘I was desperate,’ he said.
‘You have no idea what desperate is,’ Georgina snarled. ‘But you will by the time I’ve finished with you.’
‘Please, Miss Garrett, don’t kill me. Who will look after my wife? I’m all she has.’
‘Whatever gave you the idea that I’m going to kill you? No, that’s not my plan, though maybe it should be. Your greed caused the death of Lord Hamilton.’
Geert’s head snapped up and he looked surprised. ‘Did Oleg kill him?’
‘Yes, he did. Unfortunately for you, whatever sly little scheme you had going with Oleg has backfired on you. Oleg is dead too.’
Geert looked down at the table. ‘I’ll give you all the money Oleg paid me. And I’ll paint whatever paintings you want, for free, of course.’
‘Where’s the money?’ Georgina asked.
Geert pointed to a cupboard in the corner. Johnny opened it and retrieved a tin box. He looked inside to find it filled with cash. ‘Yep, it’s here,’ he told Georgina.
She walked around the large table, her heels clicking on the flagstone floor. ‘See, the thing is, Geert, it’s not all about the money.’
‘I can make you as many paintings as you’d like.’
‘Well, I’m not in the art business anymore,’ she said, and then added, ‘and neither are you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Geert asked, looking from Georgina to Johnny.
Johnny saw Georgina nod at him. He knew what to do. As he walked to stand behind Geert, he pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and took a scarf off from around his neck.
‘Don’t struggle,’ he warned Geert and placed his hands on the man’s shoulders.
Geert turned his head to look at Johnny with panic in his eyes. Johnny crudely shoved the handkerchief in Geert’s mouth. Geert tried to resist and thrashed his head from side to side but Johnny soon had Geert’s mouth stuffed and he secured the handkerchief by roughly tying the scarf around his head. Geert groaned, but was unable to talk or scream. His moans were muted cries, no one would hear him calling for help. Johnny stood behind Geert’s chair and pressed down on the man’s shoulders as he husked in Geert’s ear, ‘Don’t try and do a runner. You’ll only make things worse for yourself.’
Georgina placed her gun on the table and slowly unwrapped the small axe. When Geert saw it, he moaned harder and kicked out with his legs. Johnny pushed the end of the barrel of his gun into Geert’s temple. ‘Sit still, you little shit,’ he growled.
The feel of the cold metal against Geert’s head seemed to subdue him and he settled down. ‘That’s better,’ Johnny said.
Georgina slowly waved the axe back and forth in front of Geert’s face. ‘You remember I said you’re not in the business of painting anymore?’ she asked.
Geert nodded while Johnny thought to himself that if Georgina was going to whack the man over the head with the axe, he hoped he could jump out of the way of the blood splatter. He’d recently had his coat cleaned and repaired and didn’t want it messed up again. But she’d told Geert that she wasn’t going to kill him so what was she up to? Then it dawned on him and he smiled wryly. She said he wouldn’t be painting anymore and now he anticipated her next move. ‘Put your hands on the table where I can see them,’ he growled.
Geert did as he was told and Johnny looked over Geert’s head and met Georgina’s eyes. She smiled at him, affirmation that he’d done well. It had been a while since he’d pleased her and he liked being back in her good books. He spotted a mop and bucket by the back door and an idea sprung to mind. ‘Keep an eye on him,’ he said and then began to rummage through the kitchen drawers.
‘What are you looking for?’ Georgina asked, once again pointing her gun at Geert.
‘You’ll see.’
She didn’t question him further and Johnny soon found a ball of string. He fetched the mop to the table and placed the long handle across Geert’s arms at elbow height, tying it on with the string. Geert didn’t dare protest as he stared down the barrel of Georgina’s gun. Once the mop was secured to Geert’s arms, Johnny tied string around both ends of the mop. He then wound each end to a table leg. ‘Done,’ he said proudly to Georgina. He was confident that no matter how much Geert might try, there was no way he’d be able to lift his arms off the table.
‘Good work, Johnny,’ Georgina answered and swapped her gun for the axe.
Johnny stood behind Geert again and pressed down on his shoulders.
As Georgina pulled her arm back and over her head, she said to Geert, ‘You’ll never paint again.’ Then with a swift and hard movement, she brought the axe down across Geert’s right hand.
Johnny felt Geert’s body tense with pain. Geert thrashed his head from side to side, again his screams were muffled by the gag. Blood spewed from the gaping wound that had severed his hand from his wrist.
Georgina brought the axe up again and Johnny turned his face. He heard the axe thud into the wooden table and Geert’s stifled cries. When he looked back again, Geert’s fingers had been cut off across the knuckles but at least his hand was still intact and he had a thumb.
Geert’s head lolloped sideways. He’d passed out. Johnny wondered if the man would bleed to death but couldn’t care less if he did. Yet strangely, there wasn’t as much blood as Johnny had expected to see.
‘Are we done?’ he asked Georgina.
‘Yes, that’ll do. Untie the mop from the table legs and push the chair across to the stove. Stick his arms in the flame to cauterise the bleeding.’
‘But me coat will get messed up.’
Georgina glared at him. He knew that look and didn’t argue. As he shoved Geert’s bleeding stumps in the naked flame the stench of burning flesh made Johnny gag. Geert came round, tried to scream again and then slumped back into unconsciousness.
When Johnny was satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he poured a jug of cold water over each of Geert’s arms. That was it, he was done, unwilling to show Geert any further care. He heard Georgina call him from the hallway and was surprised to find her carrying the old woman.
‘We’ll drop her at the hospital. Hurry up, Johnny, open the door. She stinks, bless her.’
The old woman was quieter than she had been. Maybe she sensed that Georgina was helping her. Maybe she was just happy to be out of her filthy bed. Johnny didn’t relish the idea of having the woman in the back of the car but he agreed with Georgina, they couldn’t leave her in the house.
As they drove to the hospital, the woman’s stench made Johnny want to heave. He had to wind down the window for fresh air.
‘Wind it back up. She’ll get cold,’ Georgina instructed.
Johnny rolled his eyes but the old woman was so frail that he thought Georgina had a point. He thought his boss to be a complex woman. One minute she was severing hands, the next she was rescuing an old lady. One thing was for sure – there was nobody like Georgina Garrett.