Murray looked at the WPC with open hostility. Her civil tone and friendly approach were highly unsuitable when dealing with this particular family. He couldn't wait until the girl had her first experience of Jackie Jackson. Now that would be a sight worth seeing.

Jackie had stood on this very step with a baseball bat before now. Even his most hardened officers were very loath to approach her and they had done their time keeping the peace at Upton Park. They would rather face a herd of screaming West Ham supporters than Jackie Jackson with a few drinks inside her.

Still, the warrant had got them an invite, so he walked in warily, expecting a lunatic in a black dress in honour of the occasion, and wielding some form of weapon. Instead he was pleasantly surprised to see Lena Summers, whom he had known since his beat days, and the other two Jackson girls.

'Where's Jackie?' All formality was gone from him now. This was serious and he wanted to know the answer so he could take the appropriate precautions.

'She is asleep upstairs,' Lena told him, watching as the house slowly filled up with the uniforms. All she could think of was her husband's predictions concerning their grandson. He said Little Freddie would end up killing someone and she had no doubt whatever that he had finally done it. Filth didn't come round this quick, with a warrant and enough uniforms to have a stance unless they had one eyewitness at least.

Poor Jackie, today of all days.

'Go and wake your mum up, Kim. They will be tearing the place apart soon looking for him or the weapon. Bless her heart, as if she ain't got enough to contend with.'

Murray grinned then. 'I think this WPC can have that honour. The main bedroom is the third door on the left.'

Rox smiled as the young woman walked up the stairs. Like Murray and the other old hands, she was intrigued to see how her mother took this latest interruption from the police.

They were not disappointed. The girl screamed loudly, and Murray only stopped chuckling when she bent over the landing and vomited all over him.

Lily brought through a pot of decaffeinated coffee and a sandwich. Smiling her thanks, Maggie finally sat back in her chair and stretched her aching muscles. As always Lily sat opposite her, ready to give her an update on all the people she now knew intimately but had never met.

Paperwork was Maggie's friend these days. It was the only thing that took her mind off her troubles, and she delayed Lily's chat by busily gathering all the papers together in a neat pile.

The phone rang and she picked it up, saying in a tired voice, 'Hello.'

Lily was amazed to see her drop the phone a few seconds later, then lean back in the chair with her hand over her mouth, rocking herself back and forth. An awful wailing sound was coming out of her, and as Lily was to regale to her family later that night, it sounded like nothing on this earth. It was frightening to see her employer reacting so strangely to what was obviously bad news of some kind, and poor Mrs Jackson had had more than her fair share of bad news these last few months.

A few minutes later she was relieved to see Mr Jackson come through the front door. He rushed to his wife and, as Lily later told her gobsmacked family in as dramatic a tone as possible, Mrs Jackson clung to him as if her life was dependent on him being there. Though Lily Small didn't know it, that was a very true and accurate statement.

Rox was still trying to hold on to the contents of her stomach, and Dicky was holding her tightly while at the same time trying to drive the car to Maggie's house. Dianna and Kimberley were in the back with poor Lena who should never have had to witness the sight of her daughter dead in her bed, her wrists cut and a plastic bag over her head.

What was it with this lot and fucking plastic bags? First little Jimmy, and now her.

Dicky was starting to get a bit shirty now. These Jacksons made fucking Job look like a lottery winner. Now Rox was in the club, he was working for Jimmy, her favourite uncle, and who also happened to be the local Mr Big, and he was starting to think that they were all fucking jinxed. He was now wondering if he should have given himself a bit more time before he got so involved with them all. But he could hardly walk out on Rox now she had a belly full of arms and legs.

As much as he loved her, this was all getting a bit too mad for him, and he considered himself a hard nut, able to deal with anything that life threw at him. Well, it was throwing fucking missiles at this lot at the moment, and he was not happy about putting himself in the line of fire.

He was gratified to see Jimmy's car on the drive. At least another man would be there and he could get himself a few more Brownie points with him, so the whole day wouldn't be fucking wasted.

Poor old Lena, though, his heart went out to her. She had shown no real reaction at all, and he hoped that old Joe arrived soon because she looked distinctly iffy. All he needed now was for her to drop down dead with shock and they could keep the match ball.

This was fucking outrageous, the most outrageous day of his life. Dicky had never really experienced the Jacksons' intricate and dangerous family connections, and now he was getting an insight into them he was wise to be wary.

Maggie was crying when he brought Rox indoors. The girl was still clinging to him for dear life and it was only when she peeled herself off him and sank into her aunt's arms that he could finally have a fag in peace and rub his aching neck muscles. His watchword for today was definitely fucking outrageous. It was all he kept saying, over and over again.

Epilogue

Ozzy was pleased that the visit had gone so well the day before, because he knew his time was nearly up. If he was offered parole because of his illness, he would cheerfully kill again to make sure that never happened. It was weird really. He had taken to this life, and he knew that was because something deep inside him was off kilter, was broken.

But now his time was drawing near he was happy. He had enjoyed these years, the solitude, the camaraderie of his fellow prisoners, and the excitement of making a fortune while ostensibly being punished by the Queen.

He liked the Queen. When the younger lads cunted her over being pursued and eventually convicted in her name, he had always pointed out that she was only a figurehead, she was not the scab involved. She left all that to the scabs on the police force and in the law courts. They should remember that, and respect her for winning the fucking case against them, otherwise they wouldn't be here. If they had used their loaf, they would not have got a capture in the first place.

This was urban warfare as far as he was concerned, us against them. Them being, of course, anyone who had the nerve to uphold the law when he was trying to earn a crust by breaking it.

Even Ozzy expected them to put fucking gas-meter bandits in jail. And fucking muggers, they were a stain on society. But he saw himself and others of his ilk as businessmen, which of course they were.

Now he was seeing that young lad happy again and for that he would have given the last few days of his life. The Jackson family had been decimated. All their problems had stemmed from one member, Freddie Jackson, and Ozzy felt at times responsible for all the trouble that Freddie had caused over the years. It was he who had given Freddie the dreams of the big time, and his first big take, and it was also he who had gradually worked him out, and young Jimmy in.

So he had inadvertently caused the chaos that had ensued, and he would always regret that. But Jimmy had looked good today and he was happy with his life, and for that alone, Ozzy would be eternally grateful.