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The New Friend

Page 15

by Alex Kane


  With that, Jez marched out of the kitchen and headed down the long hallway towards their bedroom. He slammed the door so hard Charlene thought that the wood might crack and the hinges come loose.

  Then the house was deathly silent, aside from Charlene’s thudding heart. The blood rushed inside her, a whooshing sound in her ears. She was angry. Livid. But she felt a sadness creep over her. A sort of loneliness that only came from being in a marriage that was dissolving. Two very different souls who’d once connected but no longer fit together like they used to.

  She understood that he had to go and find Cole, not for the money but for the ring. It was the last thing he had that was connected to his past. Not that she knew a lot about his past.

  She summoned up a strength she hadn’t known existed; she wasn’t going to just sit around and wait for her husband to return. She was going to get on the next flight to Scotland and follow Jez’s movements. She knew that he was going for Cole, but there was every chance he could try to find her. The idea infuriated her so much that she worried what she would do if she saw them together. She didn’t actually care about Jez, it was more that he had treated her like an idiot their entire marriage and she’d let him get away with it. And she’d lost her best friend because of him. The best friend she’d grown up with. The destruction of that relationship had left her broken.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jake watched as Eddie won yet another hand. That was five in a row. Anyone else would stop now; the fear would be creeping in that their winning streak was about to come to a halt. But not Eddie. He was a winner. He’d bet a hundred quid on the roulette table and was up five hundred. Jake had never seen anything like it.

  ‘Bloody hell, Eddie. This is the best streak I’ve ever seen,’ Jake said.

  ‘I don’t play often. I know when to stop. My uncle was an addict; I always had it drummed into me that money wasn’t a game. But I do like the odd bet here and there.’

  ‘I’d have stopped long before you,’ Jake said, sucking air through his teeth like a tradesman giving the verdict on a heavily priced job.

  ‘Fuck!’

  Jake and Eddie turned in the direction of Cole’s voice. He was standing by a slot machine, pulling on the handle like a madman.

  ‘What the fuck’s up with him?’ Eddie asked.

  Jake shook his head. ‘Looks like he’s losing.’

  Eddie raised a brow. ‘Aye, looks like it.’

  Cole turned his back on the machine and slid his wallet into his back pocket before he walked towards Jake and Eddie, his expression twisted.

  ‘You lost then?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘I’ll win it back. I always win it back, one way or another. In fact, I’ll double my money, just you watch.’

  Cole ordered a beer from the bar next to the roulette table and when it arrived, he drank half of it in just two gulps. Jake looked on, wondering what was going on inside his head.

  ‘Sounds to me like it’s time to stop, mate.’ Eddie said.

  Cole slammed the bottle down on the counter. ‘What did you just say? Who the fuck are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?’

  Eddie blew out a mouthful of air before laughing. ‘Calm it, I wasn’t telling you what to do. I was only making an observation. I couldn’t give a fuck what you do with your money. If you want to go ahead and try to make it all back twice over then on you go.’

  Jake watched Cole, expecting him to blow up at Eddie as he’d seen happen before when they were working together down in London just three years previously. He didn’t take too kindly to people speaking their mind about him. He remembered one night in the pub, the night before the job. Cole had skelped someone for bumping into the back of his chair. Jake had to break up a fight that the other guy would lose. It was then that Jake realised Cole was an off-the-scale nutter, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d ever be on the receiving end of his wrath. To Jake’s surprise, Cole didn’t say a thing. Instead, he turned away and finished his beer before turning back and smiling widely.

  ‘So, what do you do for a living?’

  Eddie frowned and Jake wondered where the question was headed.

  ‘I own a van hire company. What do you do?’

  Jake saw the confusion on Eddie’s face.

  Cole licked his lips. ‘Bit of everything, you know how it is. So, a van hire company. You must make a shit ton from that?’

  Eddie frowned again. ‘We do all right.’

  Jake watched as Cole’s eyes fell upon him. He knew then why Cole was asking. He wanted to know if Eddie was going to be of use to Cole’s new venture. And judging by the answer that Eddie had given him, it would seem that Cole thought he would be.

  ‘You don’t sound so convinced?’ Cole pressed.

  ‘To be honest, before I took over the business from my dad, I lived a bit of a wild life. I was a dirt biker for a while. Took drugs, drank a lot. Went from girl to girl. But now, life’s a bit… well, let’s just say it’s more boring than it used to be.’

  Jake noted how Cole began to charm Eddie, and how Eddie seemed to relax a little more while being in his company. This was exactly what Cole had wanted. Someone just like Eddie, who was looking for a little bit more from life. Someone who was looking for a buzz. Eddie sounded like he was in need of that buzz, and Cole had managed to sniff him out very quickly. Like he always did with people like Eddie. People who were attracted to the darker side of life were his prey.

  Cole put his arm around Eddie.

  ‘Why don’t we go somewhere a little quieter? Jake’s place, perhaps? I want to put something to you, Eddie. Something I think you’ll be very interested in.’

  Eddie got up, collected his winnings and followed Cole out of the main casino room, down the stairs past the club below and out to the street. Jake followed behind and Eddie didn’t look back to see if he was still there. Which possibly meant that Eddie was entirely interested in what Cole had to say.

  Once outside, Cole turned to Jake and smiled. ‘Your place?’

  Jake gritted his teeth. He didn’t want Cole at his house. Not when Roxanne would be there later in the night for Cole to leer over. But how could he say no? Having Eddie on their team could mean easier distribution possibilities.

  Jake thought about how Eddie could get himself into real trouble working with Cole. But then, who was Jake to care? He didn’t know Eddie, didn’t owe him anything. Eddie was a grown man who could make his own choices. It had nothing to do with Jake either way.

  Before he could answer, Cole said, ‘Right then. Let’s go.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  DS Billy Drysdale watched them climb into a taxi and followed it as it drove out of the Merchant City area of Glasgow towards Maryhill. As he drove two car lengths behind, he could see into the back of the taxi and noted that only one of them was acting rowdy. Drunk. Off his face. Or angry? Arms flapping all over the place, large gesticulations with his hands. The other men didn’t seem to mirror his actions.

  The taxi took a right turn off Great Western Road onto Queen Margaret Drive and headed past the Botanic Gardens. Wherever they were headed, it wasn’t Cole Woods’ rented flat. That was in the west end, nearer the Partick area. Billy had done his research, knew everything there was to know about Cole Woods. This man was dangerous, a massive drug dealer. He was known to many in the city of London as ‘The Loner’. He’d made his business deals alone. No one wanted to have many dealings with him because rumour had it he was a tad unstable. A gambler, a guy who could fly off the handle at the slightest loss. People didn’t want to be around him when that happened. Not only was he a gambler, he was a heartless shit. Rumoured to be linked to a few unsolved murders down south before pissing off to Spain for a couple of years. Of course, Cole was a resourceful man and left no evidence behind, so he had escaped prosecution. But DS Billy Drysdale had been tasked with the job of bringing this guy down because Cole was now doing his business in Glasgow. And he would bring him down. He wasn’t going to allo
w this guy to deal drugs on his streets. A gambling addict and lone gangster didn’t mix and it would only be a matter of time before Cole made a mistake. Billy just had to be there waiting when he did.

  They reached the top of the road, just making the green light. The taxi turned onto Leyden Street and stopped outside the first sandstone building. Number two. Billy turned into the street and pulled in just ahead of the taxi. He pressed the button, releasing the window just an inch. He needed to be able to hear as much as possible.

  The three got out of the taxi. Cole stumbled and Billy could just about make out what he was saying. His thick London accent was loud, yet his words slurred a little.

  ‘You lads are going to fucking love it. I’m telling ya, just you wait. We’ll be fucking—’

  ‘Right, Cole,’ one of the other lads said over the top of him. It was as if he knew that what Cole was about to say would cause them problems. ‘You up for a game of poker?’

  ‘Is the pope a fucking catholic?’ Cole replied before roaring with laughter at his shit joke.

  The taxi pulled out of the street and Billy killed the engine. He watched in his mirror as the two men Cole was with helped him up the external stairway before going inside. Billy needed to turn the car around and position it so that he could get a better view for when they finally came out again. That could be in the next few hours, or it might not be until the next morning. Either way, Billy was staying put.

  He quickly turned his car around and parked it in the small private car park directly across from the flat. Killing the engine again, he took out his phone and noted the time. Almost midnight. Billy glanced back up at the building and to his surprise, he could see them. He was staring straight into the kitchen. One of the lads threw the window wide and another lit a cigarette before sitting by the window. They were loud. Well, Cole was loud. The others listened.

  As did Billy.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jesus Christ, Arabella thought. What the bloody hell was in those cocktails? Her head spun as she hung onto Roxanne, who was helping her out of the club and onto the main road. She was vaguely aware of people. People everywhere. Yet all she could see were their feet. High heels, sandals, painted toenails, trainers. She tried to put one foot in front of the other, yet her legs were like Bambi on ice.

  ‘Watch where yer gawn hen!’ someone shouted. Was that to Arabella? Had she bumped into someone?

  ‘Sorry,’ she tried, yet her words slurred and slithered out of her mouth, barely audible.

  ‘Come on,’ Roxanne said.

  Her friend’s voice was close to her ear but Arabella could hardly lift her head to smile in response. She didn’t want to attempt to talk again, it was embarrassing trying to get her words out when she was so drunk she’d forgotten how to speak. And walk. And hold herself upright.

  Roxanne, please get me home, Arabella thought to herself.

  Barely aware of Roxanne flagging down the taxi, Arabella found herself being bundled into the back seat. Thank god her friend was there to help her.

  ‘Let me strap her in first, mate,’ Roxanne said, this time her voice sounding far away. ‘She’s had a bit much to drink.’

  ‘Nae bother, hen. You know there’s a soiling fee of fifty quid if she’s sick.’

  ‘Aye, she’ll not be sick. She just needs to get to bed and she’ll be all right,’ Roxanne said, sitting down next to Arabella.

  The movement of the taxi, the bumps in the road and the speed made Arabella feel woozy. You’re wrong, Arabella thought. I might just throw up.

  She tried to focus on something still. The folded-up seat in front of her. The advert for a funeral company. The words swam in front of her eyes and she closed them to stop the motion but that made her feel worse, so she opened them again and tried to focus on something else. The red light on the door. The red light that indicated the doors were locked. The sign said as much. She could just about read it.

  ‘You still alive down there?’ Roxanne’s face came into focus as she dipped down and stared at Arabella.

  Down there? Down where? Arabella realised that she had been focusing so hard on watching the stillness of the red light on the door that she was practically folded in half.

  ‘Sit up, Arabella. That’s going to make it worse.’ She felt Roxanne’s hands on her, forcing her back onto the seat.

  ‘I’m so drunk,’ Arabella said, her head lolling. She heard Roxanne laugh.

  ‘Aye, I can see that. You’ll be at home in your bed soon enough. Almost there.’

  Time seemed to speed up then, yet Arabella couldn’t comprehend how long it had been since she last saw Eddie. Where was he and why wasn’t he the one looking after her? Did he even know where she was? Come to think of it, she didn’t even know where she was.

  ‘Cheers, mate,’ Roxanne said.

  A door slammed, and they were no longer in the taxi. Her skin felt chilled by the night air. Her feet throbbed in her shoes. She bent down to take them off before falling forward, her face crashing down against the concrete. She was consumed by darkness, a black shadow coming at her from all directions inside her head.

  * * *

  She was beyond drunk. She was unable to comprehend what was going on. Suddenly, she was being rushed along, dragged. Traffic noise in the distance. A voice echoed above her, like she was in a tunnel or under an archway. It was so dark that Arabella couldn’t see where she was going. Suddenly she was a little more sober, but still fuzzy enough that she couldn’t piece together how she’d come to be here. In this place.

  ‘Roxanne? Rox?’ She tried to call out, but a hand was thrown across her mouth.

  ‘Sssh!’ Roxanne hissed in her ear. ‘Move quicker.’

  ‘But what’s…’ Arabella’s words trailed off as Roxanne dug her fingers into Arabella’s arms, forcing her to stay as upright as possible while pushing her forward.

  ‘Unless you want to end up back in jail, then move your fucking feet, Arabella.’

  Why would she end up back in jail? What the fuck was going on?

  It was beginning to rain, and the cool breeze on her cheeks made her realise how hot she felt. The wave that came before the alcohol-induced vomiting began.

  ‘Stop,’ Arabella said, tugging away from Roxanne. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  ‘No. Not here. You’ll get caught.’

  Hunching over, hands on her knees, Arabella began to retch as the multitude of cocktails and fizz came back on her. It burned intensely in her throat, the acidic taste making her retch even more.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, Arabella.’

  Before she could answer, even before she could stand up, Arabella threw up the last of the contents of her stomach. As she retched, she questioned why she was so ill. She hadn’t drunk that much, had she? Not enough to make her so violently sick. In the past she’d been used to drinking and taking coke all through the night as she partied; she knew her body could handle much more than she’d drunk tonight.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Arabella murmured as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

  Jesus, she thought. Just out of prison, reunited with her best friend and look at the state of her. A drunken mess.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. But Roxanne didn’t answer her as she tugged at her arm, pulling her along.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  He’d drunk too much. Enough that it was beginning to distort his vision, his perspective on the situation he was now in. Cards lay scattered across the kitchen table, empty beer bottles sat on the side of the sink and a half litre of Jack Daniel’s sat between Cole’s knees. Memories from his past floated around in a drunken haze inside his head. His head ached with the confusion of it all. But he had to focus, get his head back in the here and now.

  ‘Another game, Cole?’ He heard a voice ask. It was coming from the other side of the kitchen. Taunting. He’d already lost a few hundred at the casino earlier, although he wasn’t going to tell them that. He was surprised that was all he’d lost when
he came to think of it. Or was it more? Possibly, that had happened before, losing more than he’d initially thought.

  ‘Nah. I need a pick-me-up.’

  Cole placed the bottle of Jack down on the floor and used his fists to push himself off the couch that sat under the window. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small bag of coke and poured the contents onto the table.

  ‘Anyone for a line? Liven this so-called fucking party up a little?’

  He eyed both Eddie and Jake, who were stood by the hob both clutching bottles of Peroni. The music had been turned down and Cole could feel the annoyance in his stomach beginning to build.

  ‘Nah mate, I’m driving early doors tomorrow. Can’t have booze and drugs in my system,’ Eddie replied.

  ‘You’re the fucking boss, Ed,’ Cole said as he began sectioning the coke with a business card, he’d picked up from one of the lap dancing clubs the night before. ‘Just get someone else to drive.’

  Pulling a tenner out of his pocket and rolling it into a thin tube, he bent down and blocked off his left nostril before snorting the white powder up the right. The sound was loud, piggish. Standing up straight, he stared Eddie in the eye. ‘And anyway, our little business agreement will mean you’ll never have to drive a fucking hire van ever again. We’ll be the men in the high castle and all the little fuckers will be running around after us.’ Cole pointed at Eddie and Jake, and then to himself, prodding himself in the chest.

  ‘I’ll have a line,’ Jake said, placing the beer on the counter and stepping towards the table.

  ‘That’s it lad, get right in about it.’ Cole slapped him on the back and Eddie laughed.

  Jake glared at Cole and for a moment, Cole thought he was going to get punched in the mouth. Not that Cole would have blamed him. He had Jake by the balls, knew the one thing about him that no one else did. If it got out, it would ruin him. It would break him as a man, as a gangster.

 

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