The Burnley Boys

by Drew Black

"Come on Jack, you can't be serious, it's fuckin’ freezing in here."

  "Do it!" Jack screamed.

  Jenkins stripped down to his underpants and socks and paused.

  "Them as well."

  Jenkins took off his skivvies and socks and threw them onto the pile. He stood there shivering.

  "Now, put these on." Jack said throwing him a bag full of clothes.

  Jenkins dressed quickly, just glad of the warmth of the fresh clothes. "Please don't kill me Jack, I know you're a wealthy man, but I can help you in other ways. I'll testify against Quilter for you, if you want me to. I know he stole your idea about Spain. I'll testify in front of the whole syndicate."

  "I know you will." Jack said.

  "Thank God, I won't let you down, I promise."

  "I know you won't Dave because whatever it takes Quilter is going down."

  Jenkins nodded vigorously, "And I'll help you get him Jack; I swear I will."

  "Okay Dave, but first I've got to go and attend to some unfinished business, so I'm going to ask you to do something, and I don't want you to become alarmed."

  "Anything Jack, whatever you say."

  "On that chair, there's a rag."

  "Yes, yes I see it."

  "Go and pick it up."

  "What the fuck's on it? Jenkins said sniffing his fingers.

  "It's chloroform Dave, like I said, I have to go out for a while, and this may or may not come as a surprise to you, but I don't trust a fuckin' word that you say. We'll deal with the syndicate later, but for now you're going to sleep, my friend. Sit on the chair, we don't want you falling and hurting yourself, now do we."

  "You must be fuckin' joking" Jenkins said, sitting down all the same.

  "Listen, you fuckin' shit! I said I wasn't going to kill you, but if you think I need your testimony, I can finish this right here and now."

  "Okay, okay. Take it easy Jack." Jenkins placed the cloth over his nose and mouth and began to breathe.

  "Breathe deeper." Jack bellowed.

  Finally, Jenkins's head slumped forward.

  Jack went over to him and pointed the gun at his head. He retrieved the cloth with his free hand, went around the back of Jenkins, and held the cloth over his nose and mouth for a further five minutes, until he was absolutely sure that Jenkins was out cold. Then he re-holstered his gun, removed the holstered weapon and slung it on the floor. He also removed his cygnet ring, and forced it onto Jenkins's corresponding finger, he gathered up Jenkins's clothes and stowed them away in his duffel bag.

  Jack walked to the far end of the room and picked up a twenty litre can of fuel. He returned with it and stood over Jenkins's limp body. "I'll let you in on a secret shall I Dave. We share the same dentist, Alan Phillips. Did you know? He's swapped our records. That was awfully decent of him wasn't it? Mind you, it wasn't cheap - twenty fuckin' grand it cost me. My dad always said that Phillips was a greedy bastard, turns out he was right all along. But do you know what Dave? It was worth every penny."

  Jack unscrewed the fuel can’s cap and liberally sloshed Jenkins with its contents, before putting the can out of harm’s way.

  Jack paused; no mistakes now Jack, he told himself, that's me in that chair. He's wearing my clothes and my ring, and he’s got my gun. Jimbo needs his gun back and do not forget to close the door and the gate, but don't fuckin' lock either of them!

  He went and had a quick look out of the window, before returning and lighting a match. He tossed it into Jenkins's lap - whoosh!

  Jack threw the box down near his gun. He stood back and watched trance-like as Jenkins began to burn. His skin began to melt and run in places, whilst other parts of it began to char, the stench was horrific.

  "This is for you; Tom, Hel, and J. Oh, and I nearly forgot; for stealing my glasses, when we were kids, you twat!"

  As the smoke intensified Jack finally left the room. "Sweat Dreams." he said on closing the door behind him.

  Downstairs, Jack checked his watch - ten-to-one. He’d told Philippa to collect him at two. He opened the boot of the hire car and removed a single red rose and some string. He walked over to the factory gates and tied the rose to them.

  19

  Philippa approached the gates of the old Limefield Dye Works Site. "Oh My God, it's there, it's there, it's there!" she exclaimed before bursting into tears. She brought Jack's Jaguar to a halt desperately trying to compose herself. She paused and slumped against the wheel. However, she knew that she had no time to waste, so she got out of the car and opened the gates.

  Philippa steered Jack's Jaguar carefully around to the office block and parked it next to the hire car. She got out of the car and ran over to Jack and hugged him.

  "Oh God Jack, I've been so worried, I've been imagining all sorts of things. Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah, Jenkins won't be bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, anymore. Give me my car keys Philippa. Go and sit in the hire car and wait for me, do not come inside."

  Jack contemplated taking his car keys up to the second floor but decided instead to put Jimbo's prints onto them before stuffing them into his colleague's trouser pocket. "Why the fuck did you have to come here with that gobshite, Jimbo?" Jack said before turning and heading for the door.

  Jack pulled out of Limefield Dye Works in Jenkins's Saab Turbo with Philippa's hire car tucked in behind him.

  20

  Jack sat in his study with his papers spread out before him. He felt a tinge of sadness mixed in with guilt. The information that lay before him was going to finish the syndicate for ever. He had spent much of the previous few weeks compiling a concise document of the syndicate's activities over the past ten years, along with a detailed suicide note accepting his share of the blame for The Burnley Boy's crimes.

  Jack gathered the documents together and tapped them on his desk. He placed them into a large manila envelope which was addressed for the attention of Ronald Charterson, The Head of New Scotland Yard. A gentleman whose company Jack had been in on several occasions, and someone who Jack knew had been trying to nail Cheesman's ass to the wall for many a year.

  Jacks' conscience began to prick him; he was going to do a lot of damage to a lot of people, a lot of people who hadn't done him any harm. Just walk away from this now Jack, he told himself, you've got revenge for Tom, Jane, and Helen. He was seriously considering it when Quilter's face loomed large in front of him. Jack licked the glue and sealed the envelope.

  Jack loaded his and Philippa's cases into Jenkins's car. His head felt a little fuzzy, maybe it was the aftereffects of the smoke, he thought. Philippa was saying something to him, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. Finally, he got it, she was asking him if he wanted her to drive. He shook his head, "No, I'm fine thanks." he said getting into the Saab Turbo.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" Philippa asked getting into the passenger seat.

  Jack nodded as he started the car's engine. "I'm okay." he said turning to her and offering her a thin smile. As the car pulled away from the house Philippa craned her neck in order to extend her last look at it. Jack kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

  Jack relaxed a little as he pulled onto the dual carriageway. Just another few hours, he thought, and I'll be sitting on that plane. As the countryside slipped by, Jack's mind began to wander. This was going to be a new beginning, he assured himself, Tom would be able to rest easy now knowing that Jenkins and Quilter had got their comeuppance. He had a new identity, he was financially set up for life, he had only good things waiting up ahead for him. So, why did he feel so miserable? Suddenly, he saw himself running through a field being chased by two little girls, 'Daddy!" one of them cried out. He could see every blade of the grass in that field in the minutest of detail. The field was full of buttercups, he could hear his daughters’ voices mixed in with a myriad of summer sounds. He could smell freshly mown grass. Jack smiled to himself. The girls were flying a kite, it was the one his mother had bought him and John when they were young ...


  "Jack... Jack... Jack!" Philippa screamed.

  21

  Jack and Philippa stood at the roadside, "I must've dozed off." Jack said rubbing his face.

  "Please let me drive Jack, you're exhausted." Philippa pleaded.

  "No honestly, I'll be fine, just give me a few minutes." Jack replied thinking of Jenkins's pistol that was stowed in the driver's door's compartment. That was the last thing he wanted her to find.

  They resumed their journey with Philippa insisting that she kept her window fully open.

  Jack discouraged Philippa's attempts at conversation; he wasn't in the mood for it. Manchester Airport 4 Miles the sign read. Jack's heart began to pick up pace. The worst part of his plan was upon him, and he felt desperately sick. However, he knew he had no choice but to kill her. She knew everything about him, she was the one person who could put him away for life whenever the fancy took her. Admittedly, she had helped him but how long would it suit her to go on helping him? How long until she got bored, or homesick, or yearned to go back to her old profession, even? He didn’t have the answer to any of these questions. However, what he did know for certain, was that he would never be able to rest easy whilst Philippa was still alive. He knew it made perfect sense, but if only he could put it off for a few weeks, or even a few days. It was just wishful thinking though. No, it had to be now. As they drove along Jack began to look for a suitable side road to pull into.

  Philippa looked questioningly at Jack as he turned off into a dirt road, the car bumping them both around as it moved over rough terrain.

  "Where are we going Jack?" Philippa enquired.

  "We've just got one last stop to make." Jack said with a smile to reassure her.

  "Oh Jack, I thought we were nearly there." Philippa said disappointedly.

  "Don't worry, this won't take long." Jack replied looking for a decent spot to park. He settled for a piece of spare land just off the dirt road. He looked around carefully, there were no dwellings in view. He double checked to make sure no nosey gits were out walking their dogs.

  "Jack, what are we waiting here for?" Philippa complained.

  All clear Jack's mind finally registered. He lifted the pistol ... and pulled the trigger.

  "Jesus Christ Jack, I thought you were going to shoot me!" Philippa panted clutching her chest. Jack discharged the rest of the bullets out of Philippa's window.

  22

  As they sat in the airport's lounge, Jack handed Philippa her ticket. She took it off him and smiled, and then as an afterthought squeezed his hand. Jack pulled his hand away. "Listen, Philippa, you'd better get checked in, your flight leaves in less than an hour."

  "What do you mean, my flight?" she asked.

  Jack just stared at her; "I'm not coming with you."

  "I don't understand." Philippa exclaimed shaking her head in disbelief.

  "I'm going somewhere else, it's not important where." Jack said handing her an envelope. "That's Jenkins's bank draft, it's as good as cash, I promise. You can make a fresh start, we both can."

  Philippa shook her head, "But Jack the whole point of all this was to go away together, it's just not worth it otherwise."

  "Yes, please believe me, it is." Jack checked his watch. "Philippa, you must check in now, otherwise they'll cancel your reservation, and all this could unravel before our very eyes." Philippa got to her feet feeling extremely confused.

  She looked around as the girl processed her ticket to see Jack sat with his head in his hands. He loved her she knew he did. In fact, she’d never been so sure of a man’s love in her entire life. Moreover, she knew she could convince him to get on that plane with her, but when she looked again Jack was gone.

  The End …

  EPILOGUE

  DEREK CHEESMAN

  Derek Cheesman was found guilty of corruption and accepting bribes. He was sentenced to five years imprisonment.

  ELIZABETH AND SALLY FORD

  Both were cleared of any involvement with The Burnley Boys Syndicate. Elizabeth eventually sold what was left of Jessop's Cotton Mill and used part of the proceeds to send Sally to law school. Sally became a fully qualified solicitor and opened up a practice in Hapton, Burnley.

  GERALD EMERSON

  Gerald moved on from Spain to Canada, where he married for the first time aged sixty-seven.

  MATT AND CHRISTINE

  Matt made it onto the Spanish Working Party when one of his colleagues had to pull out at the last minute due to illness. Christine and Matt are now married, and still live in Spain with their three sons.

  MAGGIE TOWNSENED

  Maggie was tried and acquitted of embezzlement and conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. Shortly after her acquittal she learned of a trust fund that had been set up for her by a mystery benefactor, she used it to buy Sounds Nightclub.

  DAVID QUILTER

  David Quilter was found guilty of racketeering and extortion of monies through violence. He was sentenced to twelve years imprisonment but served only four, due to turning Queen's Evidence in order to help convict gangland crime leader; Eddie Briggs of murder. On his release, Quilter was given a new identity, and to date has been successful in retaining his anonymity.

  EDDIE BRIGGS

  Eddie was convicted on of murder, and sentenced to life imprisonment, with a recommendation that he served a minimum of twenty years. Eddie died of a heart attack, not long into his term. He left behind a wife and two children.

  PHILIPPA MARSH

  Philippa returned from Spain to live in Devon, England, with her twin daughters, after spending less than two years abroad. Her girls are called Jackie and Janine, and of course they both have flowing red hair.

  JACK DAVIES (ROBERT JONES)

  Jack took up residency in Wellington, New Zealand, where he soon fell into alcoholism. Jack sustained fatal knife wounds from his lover's husband in a bar room brawl. Strangely, the woman they fought over had long red hair and emerald green eyes.

  And every time I try to pick it up

  Like falling sand

  As fast as I pick it up it runs away through my clutching hands

  But there’s nothing else I can really do

  There’s nothing else I can really do

  There’s nothing else I can really do

  At all …

  The Cure

  .