Gallows End

Prologue

‘DON’T YOU f*****g START, WOMAN,’WEST GARSIDE. YORKSHIRE – CIRCA 1955Jack Palmer was in a furious rage as he walked home from the Dog and Duck. He had been convinced that ‘Angel Destiny’ would win the 3.30 at Newmarket after Mickey Spiller, a runner for gang-affiliated illegal off-course bookies, had given him the tip.

‘It can’t lose, Jack, take my word for it,’ he told Jack. ‘Lots of good money going on that horse, money as knows what’s going on. If you know what I mean. A cert, dead cert, and you’d be daft not to put your cash down on it. Good odds an’ all.’

Apart from some beer money, Jack had given the rest of his wages to Mickey to place the bet for him.

And the f*****g nag had come in fourth. Fourth! What the f*****g use is fourth?

As he opened the back door of his house and walked into the kitchen, one of his children, 5-year-old Mary, got in his way and he gave her a vicious back-handed slap that sent her flying across the room, screaming and crying in pain.

‘Jack!’ his wife Ethel remonstrated.

‘Don’t you f*****g start, woman,’ he shouted and the ever-latent rage burst through his veins and he threw himself at Ethel, punching wildly with his hard stonemason’s fists and kicking her to the floor with his hob-nailed boots.

Only when she was still and quiet, lying on the floor, blood all over her face, blood that now crept across the lino, did he stop and the red mists subside.

Jack, panting heavily, stared at the blood on his fists.

‘What’ve you done to my Mam?’ screamed Mary.

‘Shut the f**k up,’ he yelled at her and then stomped out of the house.

‘Mam? Mam?’ cried the little girl, shaking Ethel by the shoulder. ‘Mam!’