The Family Firm

Chapter 50

Benjamin Jones sat down on the recliner with his tray and tried not to sigh at the lonely boiled egg waiting for him in its painted-rose-adorned cup. His wife, Olivia, had been trying him on a new diet; apple-and-carrot juice, freshly made, for breakfast, a salad with fresh tomatoes and only a drizzle of light dressing for dinner, and for tea, a single boiled egg, no salt, no pepper.

Olivia was always on about her diets, and with her voluptuous figure she needed them more than he did, but he was happy to come along for the ride. He would do anything for his Liv, bless her heart. She might have been a good fifteen stone, but she still looked beautiful to him no matter what her size.

She was just coming in from her nightly jog, wearing her usual pink track suit and black trainers. The suit was form-fitting, and she always went on about showing off how slim she looked, but honestly, Benjamin couldn't tell the difference. Not that he'd ever say it to her face, of course.

She was still stepping in place as she closed the door behind her, breathing like she was practising the Lamaze technique, and Ben smiled at her lightly.

'How was your jog, dear?'

'Wonderful, just wonderful,' she responded in that bubbly voice of hers. 'I saw Penny down at the grocery. Did you know she's pregnant again?'

'No I didn't, dear.' Ben wasn't listening any more, but it never really mattered. Liv always prattled on and he just smiled and nodded in all the right places.

She took her time talking about Penny and her new baby, asking him if he had seen the books she had ordered at the postal service centre where he worked, which he hadn't, and chatting on about how they should go to Marbella again once her figure was slim enough to wear a bikini. Ben thought that they would have to go on the Ghandi diet should they ever want that to happen, but smartly he kept this to himself.

He had been drowning her out in his mind for so long he almost didn't notice when she had stopped talking, and when he looked up to check and see if the world had ended, he noticed she was watching the TV screen.

'Oh, I heard about that.'

Ben turned his attention to the television next and squinted to see the picture. It was one of those crime programmes, and the newscaster was speaking in that way they always did when presented serious news.

' . . . a bride and groom gunned down on their own wedding day. Niamh Evans, pictured here, was reportedly in the arms of her new husband Frederick when an unknown assailant shot twice, killing her instantly, and injuring her husband. Frederick Evans Jr remains at a private hospital in critical condition. Still, there are no leads as to a possible suspect. The Metropolitan Police will be issuing a statement later today. In other news, a house fire in Kensington . . . '

Liv shook her head. 'Terrible, isn't it. That poor couple. And she looks so lovely in that dress. Just think, Benny. Only hours after they took that picture, she been done in. Right in the back of the head, I think I heard 'em say on the programme earlier.'

Benjamin's eyes were frozen on the screen. Evans, he knew that name. He had been delivering their post for years. The Evans had quite the reputation, both good and bad. There were rumours of all sorts, and Ben knew better than to believe most, but unlike Joe Public, Ben knew that the Evanses weren't as harmless as they carefully crafted their image to portray. No, he didn't know details but he had seen enough in his life and was astute enough to suss out the nature of that family.

Of course, they had never once treated him badly. He liked them, in fact, even if he was a bit wary around them. Freddie Evans gave him a little monetary gift every Christmas as a thanks for his service, and his sister Frankie had even invited him in for tea and biscuits more than once. He had never seen the son, Freddie Jr, in person, only in photographs. If he was remembering properly, the boy wasn't Freddie's son, but his nephew, which made him Frankie's child. It was a bit odd, but the way Ben figured it, the Evans' wasn't exactly the most normal of families.

But it wasn't the thought of the Evanses that had Ben staring at the telly in shock. Something had clicked in his mind like a switch, something that until that very moment had seemed insignificant. Only now was he beginning to realise the gravity of what he had seen.

A few days ago, he had been coming home from his mother's place at around ten at night. She lived on Wharfside Close in Erith and he liked to walk along the Thames on his way home from his regular visits with her. She was getting old now and he often had supper with her and Olivia, though on that particular night Liv had been out with her girls and couldn't be there for the meal. He got the nagging suspicion that she purposely went out at night to avoid spending any lengthy period of time with his mum, but Ben didn't hold it against her. His mum was a nasty old cunt at times.

He was passing through the business park as he generally did, when he saw something that had struck him as being a bit odd. A man was throwing a small bundle off into the river. He guessed it was probably some rubbish and decided to call out to him to get him to stop. The river was dirty enough as it was without litterers like him adding to the problem!

As soon as he had shouted "Hey!", the man had turned to look at him, and under the dim moonlight, Ben saw that there was something wrong with his face, almost as if parts had been taken off and put back on again. It was like seeing Frankenstein's monster.

Before Benjamin could say anything else, the strange man had run into the opposite direction and disappeared into the darkness. Ben had thought that was a bit odd at the time, but now he felt a pang of nausea run from his throat straight down into his bowels. He knew that that the deformed man had had something to do with the shooting. He knew it in his gut.

'You all right, dear? You look pale as paper.' This was from Olivia, who Ben didn't realise had been watching him for some time now.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and pushed his tray forward. Suddenly he didn't feel very hungry. 'I just feel tired. I think I'll retire early.'

Standing, he handed off the tray into the pudgy hands of his beloved wife, flashed her a quick smile, and headed up the stairs before she could say another word. He noticed he was sweating.

The respectable thing to do would be to ring the police. But, if he knew anything about the Evanses, it was that they didn't much like the Old Bill, as they called them. They would want to know first. They probably wouldn't want the cops involved at all. At the same time, they were also gangsters, or criminals of some sort. What if they were angry with him for not saying anything sooner? What if they thought he had been holding back information? If he told the police first, what if the Evanses somehow found out it was him and topped him or his sweet Liv in retaliation!

The possibilities were making his head spin. But he needed to do something, and he needed to do it quickly . . .