The Locksmith

by Linda Calvey

Genres: Literary Fiction

Synopsis

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


They grew up with nothing. Just a regular family scraping by, living an honest life while crime ruled the East End. Until all that honesty and all that hard work left them with nothing.


Poor, destitute and hungry, young Ruby decides to pull them from the ashes. It starts as one job, one step outside the law. Yet that one step sets her on a path - straight to the top.


But in the East End you don't build an empire without making a few enemies . . .


Welcome to the underbelly of London, where criminals run the streets and one woman will do anything to protect her family.

Release date: April 5, 2022

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 400

Sample

FOREWORD BY MARTINA COLE

As I hope some of you will know, I’ve been writing about dangerous and powerful women for a long, long time and I know how interesting they are.

Linda Calvey is a friend of mine. A strong woman and a woman with a story. Her life reads like it’s straight from one of my books, and it’s also true. Her voice is real, and like my characters, comes from a world that few can possibly imagine. Linda is also a diamond. She sticks by what she believes and looks after her friends.

The book you are about to read is written by someone who the British authorities considered dangerous enough to lock up for eighteen years. She grew up in the East End, knew – knows – all the faces. She was in deep with the gangsters, robbers, hit-men, gamblers and chancers who controlled the area. It was fast and glamorous and promised money; often violence and definitely power. But things took a wrong turn and she was convicted for murder and went to prison. The papers called her the Black Widow – the men in her life had a habit of turning up dead.

If you’ve read my books, you’ll know that I’m interested in strong women, who take matters into their own hands; women who kill. When a woman writes about crime and violence, they have a different perspective on it than men. Maybe they fundamentally understand it better. They are often on the wrong end of it. Linda Calvey knows a thing or two about that, too.

The Locksmith is a story about a family in east London. At the center of it all is Ruby, who along with her brother Bobby, are a simply a pair of straight, sweet and gobby kids from the tough part of Canning Town – until they are forced to make some hard choices. One step into the criminal underbelly of the East End, soon becomes two, and Ruby quickly discovers a natural talent for negotiating with villians and robbers. So their rise to power begins, with Ruby calling the shots. In this alternative underworld of crime, villains aren’t born, they are made.

I loved every page of this story and I think you will too. It’s a tale that unfolds as you get to know the characters, their family and the world they inhabit. Some writers write what they know. Linda writes about what she lived, and I believe is the bravest and most authentic new voice in crime fiction.

Martina

PROLOGUE

‘Where’s the money?’ shouted the man wearing a balaclava. He marched up to Ruby and pointed his gun directly in her face. ‘Tell us and you live.’

The tall, elegant woman turned to face him, staring down the barrel of his gun. She gave no indication of the lightning jolt of fear now coursing through her veins. Being on this side of the gun was scarier than she’d imagined.

‘Give them nuthin’. Open the safe and we’re all dead!’ yelled her husband Archie from the other side of the room. She caught sight of him, tied up with a gun to his head. Scanning the large lounge, she saw two masked assailants, no security guards or staff in sight. The second man, pointing his gun at Archie, slammed his fist with full force into Archie’s face, breaking his nose. The violence was shocking. She wanted to scream but she controlled the impulse. She mustn’t show fear. If there was anything she’d learned from the life she’d led, it was that.

Blood ran down Archie’s face, splashing onto the white marble floors.

‘Give. Us. The. Money.’ The first man moved closer, the tip of the gun almost touching her cheek. His voice was a snarl.

Ruby’s hackles rose but still she said nothing. She realised immediately that these men were inexperienced crooks, probably a couple of thugs who’d taken their chance and bribed the villa guards. Ruby knew proper crooks and these men weren’t it. The staff were away at a festival, something anyone local would’ve known. Simple but effective, she thought to herself. This instinct gave her strength, focus.

‘All right,’ Ruby said, her voice steady despite the trembling already threatening to take over her body, her heart pounding against her slender chest. ‘I’ll give you the money.’

‘No! Ruby they’ll kill us, d’ya hear me?’ Archie coughed, sinking back into the chair he was tied to. The pain of his injury stopped his plea.

Ruby continued as if her beloved husband was not in the room, as if he wasn’t bleeding heavily from his broken nose. A fly buzzed against the huge glass window that overlooked the bay. The hot Spanish sunshine glittered on the turquoise sea as it lapped against the white shore far below.

‘I’ll do what you tell me, but you don’t touch him.’ Ruby shot back with authority.

Ignoring her, the second gunman raised his weapon as if to strike the man she loved again.

‘You. Don’t. Touch. Him.’ Her voice was low. Despite her pounding heart, she remained calm, dignified.

For a second, she wondered if the robbers had heard her. She knew they might just shoot them anyway, leave them for dead and escape with the priceless paintings that lined her walls. That would cause them problems, though. They’d have to move the stolen artworks, and looking at the two men, they didn’t look the type to have high-class art contacts. They looked downright scruffy. Ruby’s instincts told her they were nobodies, and she would bet her life they would keep going all the way, intent on stealing the prize in the form of the rolls of cash in her safe.

‘Gentlemen,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you the money but put yer guns down. You’re makin’ me nervous and I might forget the combination . . .’ She smiled, knowing the effect it would have on them.

She sensed, like an animal scenting its prey, that they were rattled. Though she could only see their eyes, slits inside their headgear, she noticed their gazes were darting around the room, edgy and wild. She knew they were expecting her – a woman – to panic, to scream and faint, but that wasn’t her style. She was the calm negotiator, the steely head that had faced down bigger villains than these two scruffy chancers. They had no idea who they’d come up against. Ruby was no longer the innocent young woman she’d once been. Every second that went past was giving her a creeping advantage.

Reluctantly, both men put down their guns. Ruby, satisfied by their acquiescence, allowed herself a small smile as she slowly began to move to the back of the room, turning her back on the gunmen. Her expensive heels clicked against the marble, the only sound except for the rasp of the men breathing inside their menacing balaclavas. Not exactly beachwear. A balaclava on a scorching hot day was another sign of their need for this money. Why torment themselves unless they had to?

Each step she took brought her closer to the family safe. Now no one breathed. The air was turgid, the heat overpowering. She leaned forward and pushed aside an abstract painting. Behind it was the large metal safe, not the only one in the plush villa, but it was the one they used most and she guessed the burglars didn’t know about the others. It wouldn’t matter anyway. A plan was forming in Ruby’s mind. Always sharp, she knew she had a split second to decide the next step.

In that moment, Ruby saw herself as if from a great distance. A woman, still beautiful, still composed, and about to make the most important move of her life. The stakes weren’t just high, they were soaring. If she got this wrong, they’d all be dead. Ruby’s mind began to clear. She saw herself as a child, sticking up for her friends at school unafraid of the bullies. She saw herself as a young woman, living a good, normal life. And she saw herself making the hard choices, always knowing she wanted more. Well, now she’d got it, all right. She had more of everything: money, glamour, danger . . .

The time had come. Ruby glanced back at the men. She caught the look on their faces, a look of expectation, of riches to come. They looked like they could almost smell their victory – and in that second she knew they’d kill her the moment they laid eyes on the money. She focused her attention back to the dial, taking a deep breath. Click. Click. Click.

CHAPTER 1

‘Not sausages again, Mum. Can’t we ’ave somethin’ different for once?’ groaned the teenage girl as she nudged her brother, sitting across from her at the small kitchen table.

‘Be thankful you’ve got this, Ruby,’ said Cathy Murphy, as she spooned mashed potato onto her truculent daughter’s plate. ‘You know money is tight, it’s the best I can do, love.’

Ruby gave Cathy a sad smile. ‘I know, Mum, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rub it in. It’s just sometimes I wish we could ’ave steak and chips like they have at Sarah’s . . .’

Sarah was Ruby’s best friend and neighbour. They’d grown up together.

‘You know where her old man gets his cash from, don’t ya, Ruby?’ Her brother Bobby spoke between mouthfuls of sausage, barely looking up from his plate.

Ruby gave him a withering look. ‘Course I do, I wasn’t born yesterday. He’s a blagger. That’s a bank robber to you, Mum.’ Cathy sniffed, showing her disapproval but Ruby continued, ‘Some say he’s big-time now. All I know is that Sarah wears posh dresses bought from proper shops while I’m still wearin’ dresses from Rathbone Market . . .’

Ruby looked down at the soft yellow frock she was wearing. She liked the way it contrasted with her coal-black hair and brought out her green eyes. It fitted her slim figure beautifully, though it had been second-hand. The hems were fraying – again – and she needed to replace some of the buttons down the back.

‘You look gorgeous, Rube, you always do, my darlin’,’ Cathy looked over at her, trying to reassure her daughter.

The gesture only made Ruby roll her eyes and grin. ‘You know what I mean, though . . .’

Their entire world was enclosed within the East End and the neighbouring roads next to Star Lane. Every day of Ruby’s life had been spent in these streets, surrounded by people she’d known since she was born. It was a close-knit community, but a place divided sharply into those who stayed on the honest path – working manual jobs, eking out their wages until pay day – and those who walked a very different path. Unlike her family, many of Ruby’s friends, including Sarah and the other girls she hung out with, had already turned to crime. Most of it wasn’t big stuff: hoisting or cashing fake cheques and nicking postal orders. Some of her mates’ dads did jump-ups – jumping onto lorries to steal whatever they carried, or diverting lorries and their contents by dressing up in security garb or fluorescent jackets to lure unwary drivers to offload onto stolen trolleys. From what Ruby heard, it was a trick that worked surprisingly well much of the time, but of course, the drivers might’ve taken a back-hander to look the other way.

It was how things were done. The attitude was that big firms could afford a loss here and there, so what was the harm? Those were the people who could buy a round in the pub, or go up to the West End to buy proper clothes from real shops like M&S. To Ruby, that seemed like the height of luxury, and something the Murphys would never have.

Everyone, Ruby and her family included, knew what their neighbours were up to, but the code of silence of the East End, one that had existed for generations, still stood. You didn’t grass up your own, no matter what they’d done. No police, or Feds as they were known to Ruby, were ever called. What happened in the streets around Star Lane was a world unto itself, and that’s the way most people liked it. Most people – except her mum and dad.

Ruby looked around the table in the small kitchen. Everyone she loved was there: her older brother Bobby, her mum Cathy now taking off her faded apron and sitting down to eat, and her dad Louie, who until now had been washing his hands at the sink. Their neat terraced Victorian house might be small, but it was home. And her dress might be second-hand, but they had everything they needed.

‘Louie, get yerself sat down and let me dish up yer dinner. You look done in.’ Cathy frowned. She worried incessantly about her husband, especially after the death of his father, Jim. It’d been Jim who’d taken in Ruby’s parents when Cathy fell pregnant. Cathy’s own parents had been quick to see the back of her.

Ruby smiled at her dad, her co-conspirator and ally.

Louie turned to wink at his daughter as he offered his plate up to her mum. ‘Don’t fuss, love, I’m fine,’ Louie said, waving away her concern.

Louie spent his days at the scrapyard on the Isle of Dogs, a few streets behind their house. It was a bustling place filled with stacked-up discarded cars, forklift trucks moving large machinery into piles, and workers and sellers haggling over the price of that day’s offerings. It was hard work and long hours for little pay, but Louie grew up around the site, dodging cranes and trucks and following his own dad around after school.

‘Darlin’ I’ve been workin’ on that scrapyard since I was fourteen, but it’s tough work. A man gets tired,’ Louie said, picking up his knife and fork and looking at Cathy expectantly.

‘I know, love, and your dad always said he’d wanted better for ya. He never wanted ya to leave school and earn a wage in such a place . . .’ Cathy started to say, but Louie cut in.

‘Look, babe, Dad brought me up on his own. We needed the money. I never regretted it, though sayin’ that, I nearly did today; it was a bad day, I’ll admit that.’

‘Why, Dad?’ asked Ruby as she cut up her sausages.

Louie glanced over at his wife, suddenly unsure if he should say what was on his mind. Cathy stopped dishing out Bobby’s food. ‘Go on,’ she said, eyebrows raised. Louie looked like he regretted mentioning it.

‘One of the cranes almost took out a pile of scrap. It ’appens. I’m fine and no one got hurt . . . It’s times like that I’m bloody sure ya need to make the most of your locksmith apprenticeship, ya won’t be followin’ in my footsteps, Bobby.’

‘Language!’ admonished his wife, but her face was worried rather than stern.

‘I’m fine,’ Louie said. ‘Now let’s eat, I’m starvin’. And anyway, all I ever wanted was to raise a good family and get a good wife, and I done that.’ He smiled at Ruby.

‘Somethin else did ’appen today,’ Louie swallowed his forkful of heavily salted potato and boiled peas, and leaned forward.

‘Not sure I want to hear this,’ Cathy said, sitting down and starting to eat. ‘Bobby, get yer elbows off the table. We might not ’ave cash to throw about but my kids will grow up with proper manners,’ she muttered.

‘I am grown up, Mum!’ Bobby beamed.

‘Go on, Dad,’ Ruby interjected, keeping the peace.

‘Well, somethin’ ’appened today that hasn’t ’appened for a long time. I got offered crooked work . . .’

The revelation prompted Ruby to glance over at Bobby, who was looking at their dad in surprise.

‘You said no, right, Dad?’ Bobby said, putting down his fork.

‘Course I did, son, but they were pretty insistent. These blokes I knew at school came in to the yard, drivin’ a right old banger of a van. I thought they looked shifty. I went to say hello and shake their ’ands, and they drew me over to the van, opened up the back doors and there it was . . .’

‘There what was?’ Ruby burst out. She was dying to know the answer.

Louie turned to look at his daughter. He could see the glint of fascination in her eyes. ‘It was a safe. They’d nicked it from a warehouse down the docks and wanted me to open it with my welding torch.’

‘I could’ve done that without the mess for a nice fee. Wouldn’t take more than a minute to crack a safe open,’ Bobby cut in, laughing.

It was clearly a joke, but Cathy frowned again. ‘Go on, love,’ she said to her husband.

‘That’s it. They offered me a small fortune to crack it. I told them I don’t do that kind of business. I said, “Everyone round ’ere knows I don’t do no crooked work, I leave that to the villains around our way.”’ At this point Louie frowned. ‘For a minute, I thought they weren’t goin’ to take no for an answer,’ he said.

Cathy’s face registered alarm. She understood what he meant. ‘Did they threaten ya?’ she asked.

‘I think they thought about it,’ Louie answered carefully. ‘Luckily there were a couple of the lads on site and they saw what was goin’ on and came over. But for a minute there . . .’

Ruby saw the briefest glimpse of fear on her dad’s face and guessed there was more to the story than Louie was letting on.

‘Anyway,’ he said with forced brightness, ‘everyone knows now, if they didn’t already, that I don’t work for crooks, so why come to me?’

It was clear to Ruby that this had upset him. Nobody said anything. They all knew that Louie was straight as a die. He’d lost friends growing up because of it; there were pubs he couldn’t drink in because he wasn’t part of the local crime network. Everyone but everyone knew how strongly he felt.

‘I told them to sling their hook, but still, it’s a different world these days. Everyone’s tryin’ to make an easy coin. It ain’t right.’

Suddenly Ruby spoke. ‘How much were they offerin’?’

‘Never you mind how much, you just get on and eat yer dinner,’ Cathy chipped in. ‘We don’t take dodgy money, as Grandad Jim said—’

‘A straight pound is worth three crooked pounds,’ chimed Ruby and Bobby together, rolling their eyes. They’d heard the phrase a million times. It had been drummed into them by their grandad and dad throughout their childhood.

‘Yes, and don’t you forget it!’ Louie barked. He looked serious. ‘If you let in one monkey bastard then they’ll all come runnin’ and you’ll be a crook like all the others, always watchin’ yer back.’

Ruby laughed as a memory came back to her, clear as anything. ‘“Monkey bastards.” It’s like Grandad is sitting at the table. I must only ’ave been six the first time I heard him say that and I said to him, “Grandad, what’s a monkey bastard?” and Mum whacked me one for swearin’.’

Bobby grinned back at her and Louie laughed out loud. Cathy wasn’t so amused. She stepped over and smacked her daughter lightly on the arm, just as she’d done when she was a little girl. ‘And you’re not too old to get another whack now. No swearin’ in this house!’

‘Ow, don’t do that, Mum!’ Ruby giggled, rubbing her arm, but she carried on all the same. ‘The worst of it was that I was sittin’ there thinkin’, When do I get to meet a monkey bastard? They sound so excitin’!’

Cathy and Louie shook their heads in unison, both now laughing. It was her mum’s turn to sigh. ‘You’re right though, Louie. If you do one job, they’ll all be comin’ to ya to do the next one and the next one. It ain’t worth it . . . I know times are hard right now . . .’

Louie smiled just a little sadly. ‘I know, love. The leccy needs toppin’ up and I could do with some new work boots . . . but that’s not the way we’ll do it. Anyway, easy money ain’t easy at all, you know that as well as I do. Let’s eat our dinner and be thankful for what we’ve got.’

The moment of jollity evaporated. Underneath the humour was the harsh fact of their life: they didn’t have much. But they had each other. Sometimes Ruby wished she could just throw their standards out of the window and enjoy the good life like her friends, but she knew what was important. Ruby was happy with her life, with her small bedroom, her second-hand clothes, with her friends, but sometimes, just sometimes, she wished for more.

CHAPTER 2

‘Come on, I’ve got somethin’ to show ya,’ Sarah whispered, her face alight with mischief. Ruby was at her best friend’s house for the evening while her parents were at the pub.

‘What is it, Sar, I want to watch telly,’ Ruby answered, barely looking up from her programme.

‘Come on, I’ll show ya somethin’ better than the telly,’ Sarah said conspiratorially. Ruby looked up at her friend, whose eyes twinkled in the dim glow cast by the lamplight. She smiled. It was probably just a trick her friend was playing on her but she would humour her. Ruby yawned. It was quite late and really, she should’ve been getting back home. Her parents knew where she was but she hated staying away from them for too long.

‘This way.’ Sarah led Ruby out into the thin entrance hall. The evidence of her family’s criminal activities showed in the expensive wallpaper, flashy net curtains, the new chandelier that was too big for the small lounge. It was as unlike Ruby’s home as it was possible to be, despite being the same size and layout. Ruby liked to run her hand across the wallpaper pattern gently as she walked, thinking one day she’d have posh wallpaper to match.

‘Why are we ’ere?’ Ruby asked, looking confused. She’d seen the front door and hallway a million times. There was nothing new there except the carpet that had recently been laid, a brand new one with swirling red and brown patterns to match the beige walls. Ruby knew that carpets were expensive. She didn’t have any at her house.

Sarah reached down to grab the corner of the expensive flooring.

‘What are ya doin’? You’ll ruin it!’ Ruby gasped.

‘Look! Watch me . . .’ Sarah lifted the corner and tugged at it until whatever was sticking it down released its hold and the thick polyester carpet curled upwards in Sarah’s hand. Beneath it was what looked like a trapdoor, albeit a small one.

Sarah pulled up the hatch to reveal a large black holdall.

‘What’s in there, Sar?’ Ruby asked, though something told her she didn’t really want to know.

‘You just wait and see,’ her mate replied mysteriously, unzipping the bag and plunging her hand inside. Seconds later, Sarah pulled out her discovery.

‘It’s a bloody gun!’ Ruby gaped. She stared disbelievingly at the weapon in Sarah’s hand, suddenly frightened. Her heartbeat quickened, her pulse beating inside her brain. She swallowed, digesting this new sight. Every second that passed made her feel more like bolting back home to safety. Sarah, meanwhile, was grinning, transferring the weapon between each hand as if trying on a new accessory. Her friend seemed mesmerised by the black revolver, peering at it from all angles, while Ruby just felt sick.

‘Put it back, Sar. We shouldn’t ’ave found it.’

‘Don’t worry, it ain’t loaded,’ Sarah replied, grinning at Ruby’s discomfort. ‘And anyway, Dad won’t actually use it. He says it’s to scare people into givin’ him what he wants. So, it’s really just for effect.’

‘But why would he need it?’ Ruby was puzzled. She knew that Sarah’s mum was a dipper, a shoplifter, and her dad broke into places to steal things, but this was a whole new level.

‘My dad says he’s movin’ up in the world, he’s goin’ to be a big-time blagger,’ Sarah couldn’t hide her pride. She puffed her chest out, then held out her arm, pointing the gun squarely at Ruby.

‘Don’t bloody point it at me! Put it down. Sar, stop it!’ Ruby hissed, making Sarah giggle.

‘Don’t worry, scaredy-pants, Dad keeps the rounds separate. He says he won’t load it, only wave it around when he starts doin’ the bigger jobs like robbin’ banks for Charlie Beaumont.’

Ruby had heard of blaggers and knew Sarah’s dad did some small jobs but had never realised that the people she knew were doing big-time jobs. A blagger, or bank robber, was the top of the criminal hierarchy, everyone knew that.

‘Who’s Charlie Beaumont?’ Ruby said. Her voice sounded strange, as if she had something stuck in her throat.

‘Oh,’ said Sarah airily, ‘he’s Dad’s boss now. He’s a proper crook, a big-time blagger and he knows all the big jobs. My dad’s gone up in the world. He says that as soon as the money comes in, we’ll move to a bigger house somewhere posh, just like Charlie.’

‘Oh, but I don’t want ya to move,’ Ruby replied, her head spinning. She’d grown up in Star Lane. She knew that petty crime was rampant and people did what they did to survive, but this was something else, something she’d never experienced before.

‘You’ll come and stay in our mansion, don’t worry, we’ll still be friends . . . Go on, Rube, try it yerself. It feels heavier than ya think.’ Sarah held out the gun but Ruby shook her head. ‘I don’t like it, Sar. You, your parents and Alan could all be in big trouble.’. . .