Blood Feud

by Anna Smith

  They ate, talking about growing up, and she was touched at how Kerry spoke easily about missing her family, and confessing she knew how her son must feel being away for long periods. She told her she never took to being away from Glasgow, but eventually it had become clear that her future wasn’t here. That all changed after her mother was murdered. They talked about ways to go forward, and Sharon outlined her ideas about money and accounts, and people Knuckles worked with. Kerry arranged with her to meet tomorrow. She’d be picked up and come to Kerry’s office to look at the information she had on her jump-drive pen, and explain what everything was.

  ‘That all sounds great,’ Sharon said, ‘but I’ve got something more relevant to how we could fuck up Knuckles big time – and soon. In the next week.’

  Kerry put down her glass and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t want to mention it until we had a longer chat, and I’m glad we did because if you are going to move on it, then we need to act in the next couple of days.’

  ‘Let’s hear it then.’

  Sharon spread her hands on the table.

  ‘Okay. Just outside of Amsterdam there is a warehouse – I purchased it for Knuckles four years ago. It’s where we keep all the drugs smuggled in from various places, and it’s where we distribute in lorries to the Costa del Sol and the UK. It’s all about moving things quickly in and out. The gear doesn’t sit there long – only a few days, maximum a week – before we move it.’

  ‘What kind of gear? Coke?’

  ‘Yes. And smack. Both get moved separately, by different means, and generally to different dealers. But it’s all there in the warehouse, for a short period.’

  Kerry nodded, stayed silent.

  ‘Okay,’ Sharon went on. ‘So here’s the sketch. There’s a big shipment of coke due to come out of there on Tuesday. That is in five days’ time. It’s for the Costa del Sol and also for Manchester. It’s three million pounds’ worth of coke, so it’s a big do for Knuckles.’

  She thought Kerry looked as though she was trying not to show that she was shocked by the figures. This kind of stuff would be all new to her, but she’d have to start learning fast.

  ‘And are you sure Knuckles will go ahead with it, even in the middle of all the stuff that’s happening – with you going missing? Will he not think that you’re already working on ways to screw this up?’

  Sharon shrugged. ‘He might be. But his greed will get the better of him. The stuff has been in the warehouse since the day before I left him, and the people will be set up to move it on. I know that because I made the arrangements myself. I always do. Knuckles left all that up to me. He just wanted to know the bottom line, when it left, when it arrived, did it get there safely. He didn’t get involved in the nitty-gritty because he trusted me. In fact he never even went over there himself. He was probably too scared in case he’d get arrested, so he left it up to me to inspect and see stuff. Anyway, he’ll be wanting it moved as planned, and I’m confident that it will get the go-ahead.’

  Kerry nodded, sipping her wine. ‘So what do you want to do about it?’

  Sharon paused for a moment and took a breath. Even she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. All she knew was that there was enough drugs in this warehouse to make a significant dent in Knuckles’ empire – as well as destabilising him.

  ‘Well, that’s what I thought we could talk about. Put it this way: I know that the Durkins down in the Costa del Sol would give their eye teeth for this amount of cocaine at a good price – not that they’re short of supply – but they would be doing a fucking Irish jig if they could steal it from Knuckles. They hate him with a passion. So do the Hills in London. Both of them would sell their grannies to get a sniff of this stuff.’

  She could see Kerry processing the information in her head, and she waited, taking a slug of her wine, feeling a tad euphoric that she could almost see Knuckles getting fucked over.

  ‘So,’ Kerry eventually said, ‘do you propose we sell the tip-off to them? I mean, they would have their own crew to work out how they get a hold of the stuff at the warehouse, which I presume is guarded and secure round the clock?’ She looked a little embarrassed. ‘Forgive me if I’m not as informed as you on this kind of stuff, but I’ve led a very different life.’

  Sharon waved away her fears.

  ‘No worries. I understand that. Yeah, the place is heavily secured. Big time. But that’s up to the Durkins and Hills how they deal with it. They are real players. They have their own people in Amsterdam, or, they leave it until it’s in transit, then hit it. On its way down to the Costa del Sol – or the section of it that is going there. Or, you get your people to simply take over the containers and drive them to where you want to take them, then you have them in your possession to control – and to sell to the Durkins and Hills. To me, that’s the best bet. I can facilitate all that.’

  ‘But that’s risky too, because we’d then have to stash that amount of coke somewhere nobody could find it.’

  Sharon shrugged. ‘I’m sure the Caseys can handle that.’

  Kerry nodded slowly.

  ‘What would you get out of it? Well, I mean, if my organisation tells the Durkins and the Hills that this shipment can be theirs for a price, then that’s obviously a big benefit for me in more ways than one. But what about you?’

  ‘Me? I won’t be involved in it at all. It’ll be up to you to let them know you want to make a deal. The Caseys already work with the Durkins and the Hills – well, I know your brother Mickey did. They’ll be well clued up on all the stuff that’s going on in the aftermath of Mickey’s murder, and your mum’s funeral. They’ll be expecting you to hit back at Knuckles, but they’ll not be expecting you to be this informed, if you know what I mean. And the last thing they’d expect is for you to be able to offer them a shipment of Knuckles’ coke.’

  She could see that Kerry was a little out of her depth.

  ‘Look. I’ve been doing this kind of business for a long time, so I’m well versed in how we do people over. The important thing is, first, to make it work, and second, to make sure our information is untraceable. Or if it does get traced back, you’d need to be ready for all-out war.’

  ‘So. What do you mean in terms of money? I know you can see that this is not exactly something I am familiar with. I make no apology for that. My ambition here, Sharon, is to make my entire business legit. It’s what my father wanted – it’s what Mickey fucked up because of the road he took us down. If I’m honest, I don’t know exactly how to handle this. I have people in my organisation who can, but right now it’s just me and you, and I have to be able to trust you.’

  ‘Listen. If I wasn’t to be trusted you’d know about it by now. I came to you, Kerry. I want to ruin him as much as you. Believe me.’

  ‘So do the Durkins or Hills pay for this?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course. They’ll pay top dollar, but less than they would pay elsewhere. But there’s more than that. If you deal with them, it will put you in a major position with them. They’ll be in your debt for a very long time. So when you go in to try to negotiate yourself out of certain situations with them – like the drugs and the women, which I gather you don’t want to be a part of, then they will be more open to listening to you.’ She paused. ‘And it’s not going to be simple for you to tell the Durkins and Hills you don’t want to work with them in the future.’

  ‘Meaning what?’ Kerry asked.

  ‘Put it this way. You don’t just resign from an arrangement with the Durkins or the Hills, who have been punting drugs and women to your organisation for years. You walk away, you get shot. Simple as that. And then they take over your organisation. But this way, by selling them a shipment as big as this, then you are in a good position to tell them where you think the future of your organisation lies. There’s a better chance of them respecting that – if this is the way you want to go.’

  She waited, watching Kerry, and could see from her ey
es that she liked the sound of what she was proposing.

  Then Kerry folded her arms and sat back, looking directly at Sharon.

  ‘I like this.’ She waved a hand. ‘We could take the lot. All three million of it.’

  Sharon couldn’t help the smile that broke out across her face, and she let out a chuckle.

  ‘Now you’re talking my language. Are you serious?’

  Kerry smiled and shrugged.

  ‘Why the hell not? What better way to ruin Knuckles Boyle than to do it with his own money? I’m serious, all right. Can it be done?’

  ‘Of course. I’ve got the connections if you’ve got the manpower. There are other dealers you could sell it to, not only on the Costa del Sol but also in the north of Spain. Or you could deal with the Durkins and Hills – as it might be wiser to do that for the reasons I’ve just explained. It’s up to you. But once you decide, we could have the stuff out of there so fast Knuckles won’t know what’s hit him. But it’ll cost some money upfront – to pay people off over in Amsterdam.’

  ‘Fine. Then let’s talk about it.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Frankie lay back on the pillows, his hands behind his head, the white sheet covering the bottom half of his nakedness, as he watched with mild interest the girl getting dressed in the morning light. The sex had been on the wild side, but sometimes he liked it that way. He always felt more relaxed after a hard session – especially with Gina who liked things a bit rough. He hoped she wasn’t going to be all over him now, with her stupid suggestions that they make more of the relationship. It was what it was, he’d been clear to her. They were good together in bed, but he had no time for any strings. He hated when birds got all affectionate after sex. For him it was all about the chase, the build up, then the frenzy of passion. But once that was over, he had to restrain himself from kicking them out of bed so he could get some kip. He liked Gina, who he’d met in a club in Glasgow a few months ago, when he’d been holding court with his mates surrounded by the various babes who always hung around them. Gina was all right – discreet as well as being a great shag. But that’s as far as it went. He sighed as she came over and sat on the edge of the bed, buttoning her straining blouse over her fake tits. She shoved her hand under the sheet and fondled him. He pulled her hand away.

  ‘You’ve had your lot, darlin’. I need some sleep.’

  He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her towards him and kissed her on the lips, as though he cared. He was good at that. He stopped when he felt her pushing her tongue into his mouth. ‘Go on, nympho.’ He smiled. ‘Leave a man in peace. I’ve a lot on my mind.’

  Gina stood up, her big blue eyes a little hurt.

  ‘You always kick me out, Frankie. Why can’t I stay and make you breakfast – or maybe we could go out for breakfast.’

  ‘Aw Christ, Gina. Give me a break. I’m too busy for all that. You know that.’

  ‘I know. But I mean, it would be good now and again.’

  Frankie sighed. ‘Right. Okay. I’m busy this week. But I’ll sort something out. We’ll go for a meal one night. I’ll phone you.’ He’d no intention of phoning her, but he had to get her off his back.

  Gina brightened. ‘Great. This week?’

  ‘Christ! I’ll phone you, right? Now piss off before you annoy me.’

  ‘Okay. I’m going. But don’t forget.’

  She pulled on her coat and blew him a kiss as she headed for the door.

  Frankie sank back in the pillows and ran a hand across his smooth tanned chest. He worked hard in the gym most days and he was proud of his toned body, hard in all the right places. And his recent tan, topped up over in Marbella a few weeks ago, made him look like a model, compared to the pasty-faced punters he met in bars here, where pulling birds was the easiest thing in the world. But right now there was only one bird he wanted to get in here beside him, and the way things were going it didn’t look like it was ever going to happen. His hand automatically moved under the sheet down to his penis as he thought of Kerry. Her tight jeans, everything about her, the lush hair, the way she dressed, her blouses and T-shirts all designed to hug her tits. If only he could get close to her. He assumed she must fancy him – all the birds did – but he knew she wouldn’t come anywhere near him because she was the boss. But he fantasised anyway. He had plenty of time to get her into bed, as he’d promised himself. His mobile rang and he picked it up, looked at the screen and saw Rab Pollock’s name.

  ‘Rab. All right?’

  ‘Ahm no’ disturbing a shag or anything, am I, Frankie boy?’

  ‘Nope. She just left.’

  ‘Listen, mate. Do you fancy coming over for a wee drink tonight at the Crown? I’ve a couple of things I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘What like?’ Frankie’s voice was sarcastic. ‘Like have I seen your suitcases of smack you managed to lose at Manchester, you prick?’

  Word was everywhere about Rab’s loss and people were laughing at him all over the city.

  ‘I heard you sent a wee laddie on the drop. Are you off your fucking head?’

  ‘The boy was all right, Frankie. It was Denny Thomson who did the dirty.’

  ‘Where is the cunt now?’

  ‘Christ knows. But as soon as I find him, I’ll cut his fucking throat.’

  ‘I heard you were dealing with Knuckles Boyle.’

  Silence for a moment, then Rab spoke. ‘Aye, well. Listen, Frankie, I only deal with him now and again. I didn’t know it was him behind all that shit with Mickey, and at the funeral. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have dealt with him at all. No way. I’ll not be doing it any more.’

  Frankie felt himself grin.

  ‘Not much chance of Knuckles Boyle doing any deals with you, mate. Way I hear it is you lost him a hundred grand.’

  ‘Never mind about that. It’s done. Nothing I can do about it now. You coming over for a drink later? I want to talk to you about a couple of things. About the future.’

  Frankie laughed. ‘Future? What future, Rab? You’re well fucked, man.’

  ‘Aw, come on, man. I want to talk to you.’

  Frankie sighed. ‘Right. Okay. Maybe about nine, if I’ve nothing better to do. I’ll see you there.’

  *

  The Crown bar was busy and noisy and quite dark when Frankie got there, and at first he couldn’t see any sign of Rab Pollock. He went to the bar and ordered himself a large Jack Daniel’s and Coke, and took a swig as he gazed around the room at the punters out for a night. It hadn’t been a good day. He hadn’t been near the big house, where Kerry was spending most of her time, apparently going over all the fine details of the business in documents and meetings with Marty Kane. He knew that sometimes she’d meet with some of the other lads, but they all had their jobs to do and didn’t really meet round the table en masse unless there was a crisis – like the first time they talked after Kerry took over. He wished she would confide in him, because he knew more about the movement of drugs and all the players than anyone else. As far as he could see, it was all still running as normal, but he still felt a bit pushed out, and his wrath was building. He heard the odd bit of gossip though, that Kerry was out for dinner at the One Devonshire Gardens hotel, and stuff like that. He had to find a way to get closer to her. He obviously couldn’t mention anything about Knuckles, and the further he stayed away from that subject the better. So far, he hadn’t had any signs that she suspected him, but it worried him a little that the reason he was out in the cold was because she already knew.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Frankie boy. Howsit hanging?’

  ‘Better than yours, mate.’

  He half turned to see the fat, ruddy face of Rab Pollock at his side. Behind him was McCann. Frankie smirked.

  ‘McCann! Fuck me! You’re keeping some low company these days since my boss fucked you out of the Paradise Club with a sore face.’

  McCann touched the scab on the side of his head where Kerry had hit him. He shifte
d on his feet and looked away.

  ‘Aye, right, Frankie. Have your fucking fun. Listen, if it wasn’t for me, that Paradise Club would have shut years ago. I was making fucking serious money for the Casey cunts.’

  ‘Yeah. You were. And plenty for yourself,’ Frankie said. ‘But you don’t slap the birds, man. That was just bad news.’ He grinned at Rab. ‘Mind you, I’d love to have had a ringside seat for that moment Kerry Casey walks in and pistol-whips the fuck out of you. Christ, man! That’s legend.’

  ‘She’s a fucking nutter.’

  Frankie said nothing. Rab ordered drinks for all of them and they went across to a table at the far side of the room where it was quieter.

  ‘So, Rab,’ Frankie said as he sat down, his legs spread, leaning back. ‘What the fuck happened with the stuff at Manchester? That was some fucking loss.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Pollock said.

  ‘What happened? I don’t know Denny Thomson, but I hear he’s a bit of a prick. Why you getting involved with dicks like that? And as for sending a wee laddie! What was that about?’

  Frankie listened as Rab told him about the operation and the deal he had made with Knuckles Boyle, and confessed he’d been doing it for months. But he stressed it never interfered with the Casey business, as it was for different turf all together.

  ‘I know it was,’ Frankie said. ‘That’s how we let you do it. But you really fucked off Knuckles. I haven’t spoken to him but I understand he is not happy. What about this wee boy that got arrested. Where is he now?’

  ‘Christ knows,’ Rab said. ‘Up here somewhere. All I heard was that big Marty Kane went down and brought him up from the pokey in Manchester. So I don’t know where he is.’

  A little explosion went off in Frankie’s head. Marty Kane all the way to Manchester on a small matter like this? If it had been something involving the Caseys he’d be sent anywhere in the world, as he was the family lawyer. But what was he doing down in Manchester for a wee toerag? Kerry must be involved in it somewhere.

  ‘Do you not even know who the wee fucker is?’