‘That brings me to another matter. Thankfully, you have saved me the trouble of asking you. Your so-called “bossman” doesn’t own the club, Ralph Gold does. It has always been used by the firm to launder money. I tell you this as family, Antonias, and I am presuming it will go no further; am I right?’
Tony sat down again, thinking that explained why the bossman had never bothered with the club. Why would you spend all that money on something then leave it to rot, as he had? Now it made sense.
Don Carlos explained that the bossman was the front man for their money laundering, he was the go-between. That was how Ralph Gold knew him, and knew that he was a fool.
Ralph Gold let everyone presume he didn’t own it, so if the money laundering were ever discovered, he would not be to blame. Ralph Gold never got his hands dirty.
It seemed now that Ralph Gold and Don Carlos needed a new manager, someone they could trust. They wanted to know if Antonias would be interested.
Tony looked at him, as he swept back his blonde hair and rubbed his chin. Money laundering? No, that was big business. Was he being used as a pawn in their game, the same way the bossman had been?
‘No thank you, Don Carlos,’ he said. ‘Tell Mr Gold I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to be caught for money laundering, either. If and when I accomplish my goal, it will be by my own doing, and legal, but many thanks.’
Don Carlos narrowed his eyes and looked at Tony; this man is no fool, he thought to himself.
‘What if Ralph Gold was prepared to sell it to you, and gave you his guarantee that he would?’
Tony’s eyes shot up and he looked at Don Carlos; he liked the sound of that. And, in their own way, these men were honourable men. If Ralph Gold said he would sell the club to him, he knew he would.
‘How much is he asking? The club is worth nothing on its own, it’s a drug dealers’ den full of prostitutes, no one in their right mind would want to go there for a night out. But the land it stands on in the West End is very valuable, even I know that.’
‘Here.’ Don Carlos took a sealed envelope from the man that was with him and showed it to Tony.
‘In this envelope is the price Ralph Gold is asking for the club. We both knew you wouldn’t want to be the manager of that hole for too long.’ Don Carlos laughed and put his arm around Tony’s shoulders.
‘Mr Gold and I still need to conclude some business there.’ Don Carlos looked into the air while he was thinking. ‘Manage it for, let us say, one year, and then, if you’re still interested in buying the club, you can have the opportunity. Sign the back of the sealed envelope, Antonias, so that, if and when the time comes it will prove to you that it has never been opened.’ He indicated the other man. ‘This is Mr Mathews, a trusted lawyer of mine. If you agree, it will go into his safe until you are ready to read it.’
Tony was already thinking it over; this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. It had its risks, but didn’t all business? How much did Ralph Gold want for the club? Tony’s mind was working overtime.
‘In the meantime, Don Carlos, could I do whatever I liked with the club? Could I make it my own?’
‘Do what you want with it – your bossman did. We just need a base for a while. If you think you can make money out of it, then do so. That’s not our concern, what is yours is yours.’
‘How long do I have to think about it?’ said Tony. ‘And how do I let you know my answer?’
‘Aaah, Antonias, showing your feelings again.’ Don Carlos waved a finger at him. ‘I can see that you’re interested in the offer. I will be in touch, somehow, in three days, after you have done your deed. Go to the Italian restaurant you visited at your grandmother’s invitation the day before you settle your score with Eddie, okay?’
Tony took a pen from Mr Mathews, the lawyer, and signed his name over the sealed part of the envelope; he was surprised when Don Carlos did exactly the same thing.
In its own crooked way, this deal seemed legitimate. Don Carlos wouldn’t put his name in writing if he didn’t mean what he said, even Tony knew that. But who the hell was that chef at the Italian restaurant? He seemed to be involved in everything.
Their business was at an end; they shook hands, and Don Carlos left. When they were back in his car, Mr Mathews spoke for the first time.
‘Do you think he will do it, Don Carlos? He seemed very hesitant.’
‘He will do it, he’s an ambitious young man. Yes, he will definitely do it.’ Don Carlos laughed out loud.
MISTAKEN IDENTITY
Back home, in the living room of Jake and Sharon’s new house, Tony told them what Eddie had done, and how he had heard it with his own ears, via Don Carlos’s recording. He also told them about the business proposal made by Don Carlos.
‘I told you, but you wouldn’t believe me. I told you that Eddie was a lowlife all along, but you wouldn’t listen, would you?’ said Jake. He looked smug, feeling triumphant in his judgement.
‘I really don’t need you telling me “I told you so”,’ said Tony. That was the last thing he needed.
‘You’re not really thinking about killing Eddie, are you?’ said Jake. ‘How the hell are you going to do it? It’s a ridiculous idea!’
‘I don’t know, Jake, but the day before I do it, and I do mean to do it, we have to go to that Italian restaurant again. I’m seriously beginning to think that restaurant is the Mafia headquarters.’
‘You’re taking a huge risk. What makes you think this Don guy can give you an alibi? You might be thinking about killing Eddie, but you’re putting your life in that Don Carlos’s hands.’ Jake sighed. ‘Oh well, whatever you do, I’m by your side, in for a penny and all that.’
‘No, I’m doing this alone and no arguments, because I don’t know what the alibi is. And, as far as I’m aware, it’s an alibi for one, not two. Anyway, what do you think about managing the club?’
‘Not a lot, it’s a rathole. Not exactly a prize payment for killing someone, is it?’
‘It could be, Jake, it could be, and Don Carlos has said I can do whatever I like with it.’ Tony picked up his coffee cup and raised it to Jake’s, to celebrate.
‘This is your venture, I’m not gatecrashing it. You manage the club, it’s your trophy.’
Tony looked hurt and insulted by Jake’s words, he stared at him in amazement.
‘Hang on, what about always being at my side? You’ll help me kill someone but you won’t run a club with me – why?’
‘I know nothing about clubs, apart from drinking in them. Come to think of it, neither do you.’
Tony smiled and gave Jake a cheeky wink. ‘No, Jake, but you do know an awful lot about bookkeeping, and that’s a start. Personally, I just think I add the glamour.’ Now he was laughing at Jake, but he was right – both Sharon and Jake were good with money. That was a start, and the most important thing if they were going to make money.
First things first, though, he had to work out how and when to get rid of Eddie. Tony had an idea; why not start by taking him for a nice Italian meal, at a local Italian restaurant?
***
Tony went to the bookies, as normal, and waited; he knew it wouldn’t be long before Eddie turned up, betting was his life.
‘Hi, Tony, how was your holiday?’ Eddie said, when he came in. He was all smiles and friendly, as usual, without a care in the world.
It made Tony’s blood boil, but he remembered what Don Carlos had told him about not showing his feelings, so he kept it under control and played the same deceitful game as Eddie.
Tony told Eddie all about the hotel and the sightseeing he had done. He skipped the part about seeing Miriam.
‘Guess what? Have I got big news for you.’ Eddie was spilling over with excitement, just desperate to boast about his good fortune.
‘I’m going to take over the club, while the bossman is otherwise engaged. It’s all mine now, Tony. You can have your old job back, if you like, that’s you and Jake that is.’ He was so full of his
own importance, it made Tony smile.
So, the bossman was taking Eddie for a fool, as well. It wasn’t the bossman’s decision to make; after all, he didn’t own it, but he was giving that impression out, which is what the owners wanted.
Tony carried on going about his business, and gave Eddie a big heartfelt congratulations. He sounded very impressed and very grateful to be offered his old job.
‘Thanks, Eddie, maybe some time later. I’m done with all that for now, and Jake won’t get involved, now that he’s married. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.’
Eddie sat at the side of the counter, looking very pleased with himself and oozing with authority. Suddenly a thought occurred to Tony. This was his chance to get Eddie to the restaurant. The invitation wouldn’t be out of the blue; it would be to celebrate Eddie’s good fortune.
‘I tell you what, Eddie, as a celebration, and as you’re one of my best mates, why don’t I buy you a meal? I’ll get Jake to come, as well, then we can all three of us have a good catch up.’
Eddie’s eyes lit up. He felt Tony knew his place and was trying to ingratiate himself with the new boss of the club; after all he was the ‘bossman’ now.
‘Sure thing, Tony, give me the address where you want to meet up and I’ll see you there.’ Tony did, and Eddie almost skipped out of the bookies, even though he had just backed another loser.
What was it Don Carlos had said?
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Tony had to agree with him; how true that saying was.
***
When Jake and Tony arrived at the restaurant, Eddie was already there, sitting at the bar waiting for them. He waved to attract their attention and they joined him for a drink.
Tony said hello to the waiter who had served them last time, but he just gave a pleasant smile, as he would to any customers. Things are different in the restaurant this time, thought Tony. What a difference a couple of weeks makes. After the big friendly farewell they’d had from the chef and the waiter last time, they were now all but ignored.
They were soon shown to a table, and ordered from the menu.
During dinner, Eddie was full of himself; neither Jake or Tony seemed to be able to get a word in. He talked with his mouth full, telling them both about how he was the boss now and how he was going to get rid of all the guys he didn’t like and who wouldn’t respect him.
As much as it pained him, Tony smiled and even encouraged Eddie to tell him his plans. Tony could see Jake was bored, but gave him the nod to join in and congratulate him. Jake was as pleasant as he could be, knowing this so-called friend was now showing his true colours.
Behind the laughter and the drinks, Tony watched Eddie. He was seeing him through different eyes. He could have killed him on the spot, he hated him so much.
After dinner, the waitress came over and put the bill in the middle of the table, not knowing who was paying. Again, Tony thought this was odd; last time they hadn’t paid, and the waiter who had served them their food had now sent a waitress over with the bill.
‘You don’t look well, sir, was your meal okay?’ said the waitress to Tony.
Tony assured her he was fine and both Eddie and Jake looked at her strangely. That was an odd thing to say to someone who had just eaten in their restaurant.
‘My father always says, whenever he is not well, he does what he has to do first thing in the morning and then he goes home and stays there all day and rests. He doesn’t step outside the front door for twenty-four hours and then he always feels better.’ She was smiling, as though she had given good advice.
Tony nodded and paid the bill. He looked at Jake and then at Eddie. This place was getting stranger by the minute. Who cared what her father did?
‘Silly cow,’ said Eddie, as she left the table with the money on a plate. ‘Nice arse, though. Are the Italian women all like her, Tony?’
Eddie had had too much to drink and was being offensive. He was so full of his own importance, he thought he could pass judgement on anyone or say anything he liked and it was okay. He was full of arrogance.
Tony and Jake dropped Eddie off in the taxi first, they said their farewell and agreed to meet up again, soon.
‘So,’ said Jake, ‘what the hell was all that about? Since when were waitresses doctors?’
‘I don’t know, but I feel as though we should take her father’s advice. I have to do what I have to do early in the morning and then stay indoors for the rest of the day. It might be a load of rubbish, but I felt she was saying it for my benefit, don’t you?’
Jake nodded at him. ‘Either that or you looked as sick of Eddie as I was.’
When Tony got back to his apartment, he was still thinking over what the waitress had said. There was a knock at his door and he opened it to see it was one of the neighbours, an elderly gentleman. He never mixed with his neighbours, he just kept himself to himself.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you so late in the day, but I have something for you and I have to go out early tomorrow. I thought better now than then.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Tony.
‘Here,’ the man said, as he handed a parcel to Tony. ‘The postman asked me to take it in for you.’
‘That’s very kind of you, thank you.’
‘I’m going away for a few days to stay with my daughter,’ he said. ‘That’s why I had to come now.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve taken lots of parcels in for people, over the years. I’ve lived here for a long time, you know. Heavens, I’ve seen some changes!’
Tony smiled and thanked him again; he was trying to get rid of the old man as politely as possible so he could see what was in the parcel, but the man was in the mood to chat. Finally, the neighbour went, by which time Tony had felt like strangling him just to shut him up.
He opened the parcel; inside, he found a few pieces of metal, and then it dawned on him what he was looking at. He took out the metal parts and started putting them together. It was a gun with a silencer.
There was no message, and the postmark was the United States of America. This was the weapon he was to kill Eddie with.
Tony could hardly sleep that night. He sat up for most of it, trying to think through his plan of action carefully. At last, it was morning.
Tony dressed very plainly, in an old T-shirt and jeans. He wore a baseball cap to cover his unmistakable blonde hair. He put the gun inside his coat pocket and caught the bus to the club.
He knew Eddie would be there, even at that time of the morning. He had already boasted to Tony and Jake that he was staying there, now that he was in charge.
Tony let himself in through the back door he had always used when working there. Typical, he thought to himself, nobody even thought to lock it. All kinds of people doing their deals were free to come and go as they liked.
Tony looked around the place with a satisfied grin. When the place was his he would have CCTV, so that no one would be able to creep up on him without being noticed.
Tony checked to see if there was anyone around. The place seemed empty, but he could hear a voice.
He thought about hiding, but then thought better of it. Why would anyone think it so strange that Tony had come to see Eddie? Maybe he did want his old job back.
He walked towards what used to be the bossman’s so-called office; that was when he realised Eddie was on the telephone. That was the voice he could hear.
Tony stood in the doorway. When Eddie saw him, he waved him in, he still had that friendly smile on his face.
He was wearing the same shirt and trousers that he had worn the night before, when they had gone for the meal. It was obvious he had stayed up all night, drinking with his friends.
Eddie was sitting back in the chair, with his crossed legs on the desk, while talking on the telephone. Tony watched this new display of Eddie in charge. Eddie was a different man, God only knew what the other men who had worked for the bossman thought of him and his new-found power. Tony could only imagine. He was a joke, an upstart, a
nd he didn’t have a clue how to run a business.
Tony waited patiently while Eddie ignored him and continued talking on the telephone. He couldn’t believe his ears; it was early in the morning and yet, from what he could gather from the telephone call, Eddie was already gambling on the horses.
‘Well, Tony,’ Eddie said, when he put the phone down, ‘I knew you’d change your mind about coming back to work for me. When do you want to start?’ Eddie seemed very smug and pleased with himself that Tony had gone cap in hand to ask for his old job back. The great Tony Lambrianu, begging for a job!
Tony didn’t delay matters with small talk; he had a job to do and he had to do it fast. He didn’t know if anyone would be coming in soon, or if Eddie had been entertaining one of the prostitutes upstairs. Any minute now someone could walk in and his moment would be lost.
Tony shut the door, then turned to face Eddie again. He took the gun with the silencer on it out of his jacket pocket, and pointed it at Eddie.
Eddie paled. He took his legs off the desk and would have stood up, if he had thought they would support him. He felt weak as a newborn foal.
‘Tony, mate, what the hell are you doing? We’re friends, for God’s sake. What’s all this about?’
‘I know what you did, Eddie. You rang the police and gave them my name. You betrayed me for that fat old man.’
Eddie would have shouted out, but there was no one to shout to. He opened his mouth to try and worm his way out of it, to blame the bossman or anyone else he could think of, but he didn’t get the chance.
‘Bye, Eddie.’ Tony pressed the trigger on the gun and fired a bullet straight into Eddie’s head.
Tony looked at Eddie, slumped in the chair, with just one hole in his head. Good, thought Tony. He would never betray anyone ever again, especially not him.
Tony quickly rang Jake to put his mind at rest. ‘All done,’ he said, and put the telephone down.
Now it was time to leave as quickly and as quietly as possible. Now was definitely not the time to be seen.
Dangerous Games Page 21
