The Lipstick Killers

strong boy for him now.’
    ‘Well, I want a lollipop,’ said Susan.
    ‘Come on then,’ said Mahoney. ‘My car’s outside. Maybe we can stop on the way. Get those lollipops, or something.’
    ‘Hooray,’ said Susan and clapped her hands. ‘And Auntie Mags, be sure to look after Thomas.’
    ‘I will,’ said Margaret, hugging Sharon tightly and kissing the kids goodbye. On the way Mahoney said to her, ‘Look, I’ll keep in close contact, but to be on the safe side I’m not going to tell you the address where we’re going.’
    ‘Nor would I under the circumstances,’ said Margaret.
    ‘But of course you can keep in touch on her mobile.’
    Margaret nodded.
    ‘And we’re going to keep a presence outside, but not a permanent one now the children are gone. So be careful.’
    ‘We will,’ said Margaret. ‘Don’t worry about us.’
    Roxie, Frankie and Margaret waved off the family then went back inside and closed the door.
    ‘I bet he’ll keep in close contact,’ said Roxie. ‘As close as he can to you Mags.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’
    ‘I don’t know what to do with myself, now they’re gone,’ said Frankie.
    ‘How about a drink,’ said Margaret.
    ‘Tea or coffee?’
    ‘I was thinking of something stronger.’
    ‘Good idea,’ said Frankie. ‘I’ll go and get some ice out of the fridge, and we can get off our heads. I think we deserve it.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Margaret.
    ‘What now?’ said Roxie, when Frankie had gone into the kitchen.
    ‘Now they’ve started to threaten the kids we go on the offensive. They don’t know who they’re dealing with here.’
    ‘Fine,’ said Roxie. ‘Offensive it is.’
    Mags continued. ‘We need someone on the inside on the outside.’
    ‘Bleeding hell, Mags, this isn’t Dempsey and Makepeace. I’m a beautician, tell it to me in terms I’ll understand.’
    ‘That Saint Cyr bloke looked like a ladies man,’ said Margaret. ‘And you’re a lady.’
    ‘What are you suggesting?’ said Roxie, quizzically.
    ‘You’ve heard of a honey trap, right? Happens all the time in cases. You’d be surprised how many pimps and dealers are caught this way.’
    ‘So you’ve done it?’
    ‘No. Not really my thing. Don’t look the part.’
    ‘And I do?’
    ‘In a word, yes.’
    ‘Terrific. How old is he?’
    ‘Forties, I think.’
    ‘Well, I always did attract older men.’
    ‘It’s your scintillating personality sis. Or your big tits.’
    ‘Thanks Mags! My lils have always worked for me, that’s true,’ Roxie said good naturedly.
    ‘I reckon you’d be perfect at it, always were a little drama queen. So are you up for it?’
    ‘But I dunno sis, how do we even get close to him?’
    ‘I’m going to go up to London for a few days. I’ll have a scout around and suss him out,’ said Margaret, mentally working out her plan.
    ‘But he’s seen you. Won’t he recognise you?’
    ‘Me? The mistress of disguise? Don’t forget I spent a long time undercover as a cop. I think I can blend in with the background, and he’ll never even know I’m there.’
    ‘Should I come with you?’ said Roxie.
    ‘No. I’m keeping you under wraps for now. You stay down here, keep Frankie company – she looks a bit lost. If I need you I’ll call. You’ve got Sharon’s car if you need transport?’
    ‘OK, but I don’t like it.’
    ‘It’s not a case of liking it or not love. If we do this, we do it right. Go all the way and bugger the consequences. This is deadly serious.’
    ‘I know all about serious.’
    ‘Course you do. So what’s it to be. In or out?’ Mags looked directly at her sister.
    ‘In of course.’
    ‘I knew you would.’
    ‘But I still don’t like it.’
    Roxie felt the cold grip of fear on her heart once again. She just hoped that this time, her intuition was wrong.

50
     
     
     
    Margaret told Frankie she had to return to London, but kept her real plans secret, telling her sister that she had business to attend to at the flat in Battersea. Frankie seemed listless and unhappy, but cheered up a little when Margaret told her Roxie would be staying in Guildford. ‘I’m glad that Dolly is staying here. The house is quiet without Sharon and the kids,’ said Frankie.
    ‘I’m going to go now,’ Mags said. ‘Beat the rush hour.’
    Mags left most of the clothes that she’d brought with her and took only the necessities – a wrap of cocaine and the Colt revolver. She got into her car and sped up to Battersea where she