The Game

by Linda Calvey

Genres: Women's Fiction; Crime Fiction

Synopsis

Perfect for fans of Kimberley Chambers and Jessie Keane, this gangland thriller shows how far one woman will go to protect her family's empire.
___________

Most authors write what they know. Linda Calvey writes what she lived.

After Ruby's husband, Archie, is brutally murdered, she is distraught.

But with an empire to run, Ruby has no time for tears. Determined to keep her family safe, she sends her beloved daughter Cathy away, far from the violence and secrets.

As Ruby fights off the affections of her business partner, Vladimir, as well as attacks from local gangs, she knows the game is too dangerous to stay in forever.

But who can be trusted, and who is out for blood?

In Ruby's empire, family is everything. So, when Cathy gets into trouble, Ruby vows to protect her, whatever the cost.

IF YOU COME FOR THE QUEEN, YOU'D BETTER NOT MISS...
___________

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE LOCKSMITH:

????? 'Up there with the best'

????? 'A brilliant, gripping story which captured me from the first page'

????? 'I could not put it down!'

????? 'Wish I could give it more than five stars!'

????? 'Action-packed and full of drama till the very end'

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 400

Sample

PROLOGUE

Marbella Region, Spain, 2011

‘Get your fucking hands off me, I know nothing about the stolen gear!’ The Russian, a livid scar sliced across his cheek, struggled against his bonds as he was pushed into the deserted warehouse.

Ruby, a tall, elegant woman in Louboutin heels and a Chanel suit, waited inside. She turned, raised her eyebrows, and stepped over to the man. She smoothed back her jet-black hair, still glossy and sleek though she was forty years old and the mother of an eighteen-year-old daughter, and ran her emerald eyes over the captured man.

Several kilos of cocaine had disappeared from a drug run bound for London from South America. Her sources told her this man, who now cursed and swore in Russian as he struggled against his captor, was one of those responsible. She wanted to know everything: who was in on it, how they did it, and more importantly how they got away with it. And where was the missing shipment now? She had no doubt this snivelling traitor would talk. Alfie, her dead husband’s twin, would make sure of it. And when she had the answers, she would take her revenge.

Alfie, his designer Westwood suit in stark contrast to the aura of menace he exuded, held the man still. His wiry build and arms filled with tattoos were covered from view by the finest virgin wool, though his stare was hard as he kept the man in his grip. He watched Ruby assess their prisoner, her cool gaze sizing up the man who’d thought he could get one over them, and smiled unpleasantly. He knew Ruby wouldn’t back down until she got the answers she sought. He understood that underneath the polished exterior of a wealthy, classy lady was a woman who had stopped at nothing, including murder, to get to where she was today: the head of a drug cartel that spanned half of South America, Europe and Russia. He saw a woman who had worked her way up from nothing, from a poverty-stricken background in East London, who had faced hardened criminals without blinking, a woman to be reckoned with.

Formidable she may have been – ruthless, too – but her instincts were as sharp as the steel blade that once marked the crook they interrogated, a man who waited for her to speak, his face a picture of terror as he realised there was no escape from her. Ruby’s reputation preceded her. She had killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again, if required.

‘Oh, but ya do know about them drugs that disappeared between Cartagena and London,’ Ruby said slowly, dropping her voice almost to a whisper.

‘We know you was at the dock the day they vanished,’ Alfie said. ‘You was seen talkin’ to some of the men just before the heist, the men who also disappeared with our goods. Now, tell us everythin’ you know or you’re a dead man.’ He shoved the terrified crook down onto a chair, then pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man’s head.

‘No one can ’ear ya scream out ’ere, son, so spit it out . . .’ he snarled.

The man had been seized at the Glasgow dock where the shipment had gone missing. Beaten and roughly handled, he’d been brought half-conscious via car boots and private air strips to this disused warehouse an hour’s drive from Malaga, the city where Ruby’s empire was now based. He was ready to talk.

‘Shit, shit, OK, don’t shoot me. Listen, I can help you. I know something about the robbery, the death of your husband. Please, listen to me . . .’ The man was wide-eyed with fear now. He stared at Ruby. She glanced at Alfie.

‘What d’ya mean, you know somethin’? Alfie sneered. ‘He’s lyin’ to ya, hopin’ the cavalry will arrive. I’ve got news for ya, mate, there ain’t no cavalry. It’s just us, and we’ve got all the time in the world.’

Ruby paused. She saw his fear, that was obvious, but her gut told her there was something else at play. If there was anything she’d learned in the life of crime she’d led, it was to trust her instincts. She knew people would say anything to save themselves, but it seemed strange the man had mentioned the robbery in which her husband Archie had been murdered when he was caught for a different crime.

‘No, Alfie, let’s ’ear him. Go on, speak,’ she commanded. Alfie walked round to face the Russian, and pointed the end of the gun into the frightened man’s face. The man gabbled now, his words falling over themselves as horror overtook him.

‘I mean it, I know what he did to you. I was too afraid to tell you, but I know something about your husband’s death, I know who ordered it . . .’

Alfie glanced swiftly back at Ruby.

‘He?’ she said pointedly. ‘Who are ya talkin’ about? If ya know anythin’ about my Archie’s killin’ then tell us now.’

‘Spill the fuckin’ beans, you cunt, and ya might just live,’ Alfie added, but it was Ruby who was in charge. She walked slowly up to the man, who quaked and sweated. Her heels clicked on the cold, hard surface in the dark space. The nearest village was half an hour’s drive away. They were alone.

‘We buried my husband two days ago, so tell me, his grievin’ widow, what do ya know, Micha? What could ya possibly know about that robbery?’ Suddenly, out of nowhere, there came the sound of a car driving wildly towards the warehouse and then screeching to a halt. Ruby looked up quizzically. No one else knew about this place, where interrogations like this occurred, where those who thought they could do over Ruby and her cartel learned otherwise.

Despite the sound, the man opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the warehouse door slammed open.

‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ, what the fuck’s goin’ on?’ Alfie yelled. They recognised the man marching in as one of their henchmen, another Russian employed by their business associate, drug baron Vladimir Ivanov. The man – a bearded, tall, burly guy wearing a black coat – strode into the warehouse, gun in hand.

‘What the fuck—’ Alfie started to say again but the man, who held a large rifle, ignored him. Before Ruby could say anything, the henchman raised his weapon.

‘You caught the scum that took the coke. Good.’ He turned to the captured man. ‘My boss Mr Ivanov sends you this.’

He pulled the trigger: BANG! The sound ricocheted off the walls. In a mess of gristle and bone, blood splattered across the concrete floor as the Russian shot his countryman at point-blank range. Alfie leaped out of the way but was sprayed with blood. He pointed his gun at the henchman. Ruby stood still, half-wondering if the gun would be turned on her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stared down the barrel of a weapon that could kill her in a millisecond.

‘It is done. I will inform my boss.’

The man barely acknowledged them. He turned to leave but Ruby stopped him.

‘I’m your fuckin’ boss and you just shot a man who had information about my Archie’s murder,’ she said coldly. ‘You can tell Mr Ivanov I’ll be in touch. This won’t ever happen again.’

She nodded to Alfie, who looked like he wanted to kill the man, and she walked out, her brother-in-law beside her, her head held high though anger burned through her.

‘And you can clean that body up,’ Ruby called back.

CHAPTER 1

‘Cathy, darlin’, I need to ’ave a word with ya,’ Ruby called up to her daughter, who was in her bedroom in the plush villa they shared in an exclusive Spanish resort.

The palatial home was a long way from the place Ruby and her brother Bobby grew up in many years ago: a squat, terraced Victorian house in Star Lane, East London. In the intervening years, Ruby, helped by Bobby and her husband Archie, had created a criminal empire, from safe-breaking to drug-running, which had afforded them a life of luxury – and a life of continual danger too. The danger seemed no more present to them than now, a week after Ruby’s beloved husband Archie was shot by robbers attempting to steal money from their safes in front of the two women, his wife and their daughter Cathy.

Ruby had been blissfully happy with Archie, the only man she’d ever given her heart to, and the man who helped propel her into the big time. His father, Lloyd, ran a large drug cartel which Ruby had been only too happy to join – and spearhead – with her sharp instincts and razor-like mind, and her skills in negotiation surpassing all others. She’d spent years fronting up the company, entering into a partnership with a Russian drug baron, and dealing with some of Europe’s most dangerous and brutal crooks. Yet, it had all led to this, the death of Archie, and the proof that their life was one of immeasurable risk. Ruby knew now, more than ever, that one false move, one hesitation, could be the death of them all. Which was why even now, after she’d buried her husband and was consumed by grief, she had to carry on; she had to make her family safe.

She had watched the priest as he read the funeral liturgy, hardly able to believe it was Archie in the coffin that lay in front of her, covered in flowers; the white lilies he liked to buy her, and never would again. There had been crowds of people, all shady characters, big names in the underworld, who’d paid their respects, lavishing large sums of money on the new widow and paying tribute to Archie, a boy who came from nothing. Archie had been a ruthless businessman but he was a gentle husband and a loving father, while Alfie, his twin, dealt with the dangerous end of the business sourcing cocaine and bribing officials in South America, the home of the cartels they bought drugs from. Alfie, who looked so like Archie yet was hardened in a way his twin never had been, had wept openly at the funeral despite his tough man image.

In contrast, Ruby hadn’t shed a tear. She knew they would call her cold, with a heart of ice, and that suited her image. She must appear strong, without even a chink in her defences, and so she had to do what she’d done since she was a young woman starting out in the underworld: she needed to bury her feelings as deep as they’d dug her beloved husband’s coffin that day. Perhaps one day she would allow them to resurface so she could grieve properly, but on the day of the funeral she was being watched by the most dangerous men in the business, and so it had not been the day. She had learned the hard way to show no emotion, give nothing away. Life was too dangerous, too fragile to let her opponents see any sign of weakness, even when in the depths of grief. Somehow, she got through that day, supporting Cathy, comforting Alfie and Lloyd, and never, ever showing anyone her pain. Now she had to do it again, because she knew deep down that she had to send her daughter away from her at the exact moment her daughter needed her love the most. The wrenching sensation was almost physical.

Ruby, an elegant, slim, still-beautiful woman, knew it was the only way she could protect Cathy, give her the time to grieve her dad, and put her somewhere she knew she’d be safe from the crooks, criminals, henchmen, drug-pushers and cartel bosses who circled Ruby like sharks. The decision brought Ruby no joy. She regretted that she couldn’t give her only child a place to grieve – it hurt her deeply on top of the loss of the man that meant so much to both of them. Ruby had shot both gunmen dead, but she had been seconds too late to save Archie from the same fate. Loss piled upon loss. Ruby had lost so many people over the years: her beloved mum Cathy and dad Louie who would be horrified by her life of crime and by this life she had created; her little brother George; her best friends Charlie and Maureen Beaumont who had mentored her as she’d established herself as a tough negotiator, a woman to be reckoned with in the criminal world; and now her adored husband, the man of her life. Ruby became a crook to provide for her family when she, her brother Bobby and little George became orphans. They’d seen no other way to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. They had much more than that now; their life was worlds away from their small ambitions back then. And yet the price of her success was high. Would she have paid it knowing how things would turn out? It was too late to ask. This was her life. And she had to stay on top. Or, like a house of cards, it would all come tumbling down.

Knowing she had to act quickly after the funeral, Ruby had set in motion the next course of events.

‘Darlin’, come down, will ya? I really need to talk to ya.’

When there was no response, Ruby sighed and headed up the stairs, feeling the soft white carpet under her stiletto heels and holding onto the sweeping balustrade as she went, inwardly still marvelling at the luxury which was now hers. For a moment, in her mind’s eye, she saw the rickety wooden staircase, bare of carpet, in her old family home. It was meticulously clean, her mum Cathy had real pride in cleanliness, but no amount of scrubbing could make the stairs, or the floors, or the surfaces, appear anything other than shabby. So much had changed. So much more would, now that Archie was gone and she had to find some way of living without him.

Ruby tapped on Cathy’s door.

‘Listen, Cathy, I need to speak to ya. Couldn’t ya hear me?’

Ruby walked in softly, but caught Cathy wiping away tears.

‘Oh, darlin’, it’s OK to cry. You miss yer dad, it’s natural to grieve for him,’ she said, her voice low as if talking to a frightened child, though Cathy was almost a woman.

‘Why did Dad have to get killed?’ Cathy said, turning to face her mum, her eyes red-raw from crying. Ruby’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, though Cathy was still so pretty with long dark blonde hair like her dad’s and those green eyes inherited from Ruby. Was there an accusation in Cathy’s words? Did she think her mum could’ve done more?

Ruby went over that evening at the villa in her mind every night as she lay in bed not sleeping, going through every detail obsessively, trying to see what she might’ve done differently, wondering if anything might’ve stopped the worst from occurring. She searched every second of the events, but in vain. She and Cathy had returned from a day of pampering to find Archie tied up in the lounge and two scruffy balaclava-clad robbers holding him at gunpoint. The villa security guards were nowhere to be seen and the three of them were alone as the men demanded Ruby open the safe and give them the cash stashed inside. What the robbers didn’t know was that Ruby always kept a gun in each of their safes. As soon as she clicked the safe open and put her hand on the gun, they shot her Archie, and she reacted by pulling the trigger on both crooks, killing them stone dead. It happened in a blur of seconds. Time stood still as Archie’s blood mingled with that of the robbers, deep red on the white marble floors. Then Ruby awoke as if from a nightmare, and ran to her husband, cradling him in her arms, knowing he was lost to her, as Cathy screamed and screamed. What else could she have done? Did Cathy blame her for her dad’s death?

‘What d’ya mean darlin’? Dad got killed because them robbers were bastards who shot him and then were goin’ to kill us all as soon as the safe was open. If I hadn’t had that gun inside, we’d all be dead.’

Cathy looked up at her. Until that moment of the robbery, Cathy hadn’t known about the true nature of the family business. Ruby and Archie had preferred to keep her protected, and had sent her to an exclusive international school where she’d been oblivious of their trade. Of course, Cathy had known they’d built up a business importing and exporting products but, amazing as it seemed to Ruby now, Cathy had never asked what the products were, and Ruby had never told. Cathy was an innocent, or had been until the murder of her dad and, before that, the horrible events with her uncle George, who had stolen her innocence properly. He’d raped her when she was just a child when high on the drugs he was trying to sell. Archie and Alfie had hunted him down, and would’ve tortured him, so horrified were they by his actions. It had been Ruby who’d stepped in, who’d done what needed to be done that night. It seemed she’d made a habit of that. She knew now though that there were no thanks for this – and her actions that night created fallout all through the family.

Ruby shuddered. So many secrets. So many lies, and so much death. And in all this, Cathy had turned to Belle, taking comfort from her rather than her own mother. That’s how Ruby knew she was making the right decision, though it hurt her to do it. She had to get her daughter away from this life, back to England where Uncle Bobby and his wife Aunt Belle could take care of her. Ruby had always been jealous of the bond that had grown between Cathy and Belle, but right now, when the criminal underworld might sense the new vulnerability of Ruby and her family, it was best to use that relationship and get Cathy away.

‘You’ve been through so much, Cathy,’ Ruby murmured, stroking her daughter’s honey-coloured hair and pushing a tendril back from her face.

‘I wish it’d been me, not Dad, that was killed. I’d give anything to have him back.’ Her daughter’s voice broke and the tears came again.

Cathy’s accent was a world away from Ruby’s. The young woman had been to an expensive school and spoke with a vaguely European-sounding accent that was hard to pin down, interspersed with cut-glass English expressions. Ruby still spoke like the cockney she was, never leaving her roots behind though she was now a wealthy woman living an international jet-setting life, clad in designer labels and drinking only the best champagne.

‘Don’t say that, darlin’. I can’t bear to ’ear ya say that. I’d give anythin’ for your dad to be ’ere but he ain’t, baby. He’s gone and somehow we ’ave to try and find a way to manage. That’s why I wanted to speak to ya.’ Ruby had pulled her daughter close but now she sat back upright and held Cathy at arm’s length, staring into those innocent eyes that were almost as green as her mum’s.

‘I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinkin’ and I want what’s best for ya. If I’m honest, then I don’t know if we’re safe ’ere. With your dad’s death, the businessmen I deal with—’

‘The dealers and pushers, you mean . . .’ Cathy interjected, her expression hardening with disapproval.

‘Yes, love, the pushers and dealers, the hard men and cartel bosses around Europe, well, they’ll all be expectin’ me to collapse, to lose my edge because of my grief, and they’ll be sniffin’ around tryin’ to take our territories and our contacts. I ’ave to be ’ere to stop them and show them, at least on the outside, that it’s business as usual. I know that sounds harsh.’

Cathy nodded. ‘Yes it does,’ she said, pulling her cardie around her and moving back from her mum.

Ruby looked down at her hands. She still wore her engagement ring, a diamond solitaire that winked up at her. She gained strength from the hardness of this rock that had withstood millions of years of compression – the sheer power and beauty of it. Sometimes she knew how that stone felt: being squeezed from all angles, being made hard and brilliant by the pressure.

She breathed in and said, ‘I’ll come straight out with it, Cathy. I’m goin’ to send ya to England to live with Aunt Belle and Uncle Bobby. It ain’t safe for ya ’ere and there’s too many memories. I know how close you are to Belle,’ and here Ruby had to stop as emotion welled up inside her. It pained her to see how much Belle has become a maternal figure to Cathy, and how this seemed to shine a light on Ruby’s failings as a mother. Ruby was a fierce negotiator, a cunning businesswoman, an adoring wife, but somehow, she never got it right with the daughter she loved so much. Perhaps she wasn’t the maternal type? Perhaps Cathy would’ve been better off with Belle for a mum rather than Ruby, and the thought of that gave her fresh grief. Ruby looked away from the daughter she loved yet couldn’t quite reach, and said, ‘I know I haven’t been the best mother to ya. I know you’d be happier if I’d stayed at home and baked cakes, but that’s never been me. It don’t mean I don’t love ya, though, please remember that.’

A tear slid down Cathy’s face but eventually she nodded.

‘I’m scared for you, Mum. I’m scared for all of us. I had no idea our lives were in so much danger. I knew we were rich, that was obvious, and I feel so stupid now for never asking how we got to be like this.’

It was Ruby’s turn to nod.

‘Darlin’, I would never ’ave told ya. Some things are best left unsaid. Those robbers won’t be back, so don’t worry about me. I’ll get everythin’ ship-shape ’ere and then I’ll be over. Listen, I’ve booked you onto a flight tomorrow morning, first class. You can make a fresh start, a new beginning in England, away from this place and the horrors ’ere. I’ll help ya pack if ya want . . .’

‘No. Thanks, Mum, but I’d rather sort my stuff alone.’

Ruby blinked, trying not to break down. She hadn’t told Cathy that she was convinced the robbery had been a set-up, and had almost had proof of it. Some things couldn’t be shared with a girl as vulnerable as her daughter.

Ruby tried to smile, to reassure her.

‘All right, darlin’. Just let me know if ya need anythin’. I’ll be over to see ya once things are clearer ’ere, I promise.’

It broke Ruby’s heart to see her gentle daughter nod then turn away from her, leaving her to get up off Cathy’s bed where they’d been sitting, and make her way back downstairs. Ruby could’ve wept at the thought of her daughter’s obvious coldness, the hurt and fear underneath it. I’m doin’ the right thing by her, Ruby thought, though she wondered if she was merely convincing herself.

*

The next morning, Cathy stepped into the chauffeured limousine, which had blacked-out bulletproof windows. Two silent minders sat either side of her in the car, both carrying guns. Any pretence that they were a normal family was gone now. Cathy had politely refused her mum’s request to come to the airport and see her off, so Ruby, respecting her wishes, was consigned to standing at the villa’s main entrance, underneath an archway of orange trees. She blew her daughter a kiss as the car rolled off the driveway, the engine murmuring low as it took her Cathy away from her.

‘I’ll be over soon, I promise ya. I love ya, Cathy,’ Ruby whispered, her smile never faltering. She carried on waving even though the car had swept out of the driveway, leaving her standing alone. In the time it took for a heart to beat, she was taken over by the desire to unleash her feelings, to crumple with the sheer weight of the loss of her daughter. She breathed in, taking in the scent of oranges in the warm morning sunshine, then she looked at the entrance, her force of will triumphing over her emotions.

‘Shut those gates,’ she ordered the security guards, who were now posted twenty-four hours a day along the length of the villa’s estate. She turned, breathing in another long, deep breath, then stalked inside, her heels clicking on the marble floors, her head whirring with all the things unsaid between them. Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again at this new loss, that of her daughter, as Cathy flew out to be comforted by another woman.

CHAPTER 2

‘You don’t ever send your men in to override my decisions!’ Ruby thumped the table as she emphasised her complaint. She was fuming. Vladimir Ivanov sat opposite her at the oval glass-topped table in her office, with Lloyd and Alfie on either side of him. She was standing, then pacing, so furious was she by what had happened.

Ruby had called the meeting a few days later, after Cathy had gone. The sun shone through the huge floor-to-ceiling glass window that looked over the small bay beneath them. The ocean was grey-blue and the waves choppier than their usual hazy calm, signalling a storm out at sea. It wasn’t just the Mediterranean that was stormy.

‘Don’t ever think of doin’ that to me again. We’re business partners, but your henchman seemed to think you were the boss. Well, I hate to break it to ya, Vladimir, but you ain’t.’

Lloyd, a good-looking man in his sixties, with streaks of silver grey in his immaculately trimmed hair, looked up at her, and without having to say anything, he signalled with his eyes that she should steady herself, rein in her fiery temper. It wasn’t often Ruby lost her cool in business, but this was something else. She saw the killing as an attack on her authority, her power base, and no one, not even a billionaire Russian drug baron, would take that away from her. Her emotions were running high after Cathy had left for England. Even though she was convinced she had done the right thing, the departure of her daughter, and the knowledge that she couldn’t comfort her the way she needed, had upset Ruby more than she cared to acknowledge.

Ruby breathed in and out, standing and clutching the back of her chair, and locked eyes with Vladimir, who had stayed silent until now. The Russian wai. . .