by Anna Smith
The boy turned to the girl who was now on her feet in tears.
‘And as for your little tramp bird here, she was only good for a handjob. She’s good at it – I’ll give her that.’ He spat, wiping blood from his lips.
The girl stood mortified, as the owner ushered the boys out of the café.
‘Fuck’s sake, Cal. What do you think you’re doing?’ the girl said.
Cal looked embarrassed, wiped the blood from his nose. He leaned into her.
‘I saw you giving them something, Mary. What the fuck you doing? Pushing drugs to them?’
‘What the fuck is it to do with you, Cal Ahern? You think I don’t know about you and the drops you made? Don’t tell me how to lead my life. I barely fucking know you.’
Jack stood back as the girl made to leave.
‘Mary! Wait!’ Cal ran after her out of the door. He caught her arm in the street and she started sobbing.
‘Fuck’s sake, Cal! I just needed the money! My ma’s got nothing and my wee sisters have fuck all clothes to wear. What am I supposed to do?’
Cal put his arms around her, feeling her skinny body warm next to his.
‘I know. It’s okay, Mary.’ He held her tight. ‘You’re all right. Stay away from those guys though. You’re better than that.’
She sobbed. ‘It’s true what they say, Cal. I’m a slut! I don’t give a fuck what anybody thinks. I needed the money.’
‘No, you don’t, Mary. You don’t need to do that.’
‘I have to go,’ she said, pulling his arm away.
He eased his grip and watched as she walked briskly down the street.
*
On the way back up to the showroom Jack barely spoke, even though Cal was waiting for a stern rebuke from him. Eventually, he put his arm around his shoulders.
‘You all right, tiger? I didn’t know you packed a punch like that. Might need to take you down to the boxing gym.’ He gave him a nudge. ‘By the way, I think you should be in school, and you’re bullshitting me about study leave.’
Cal’s face grew dark.
‘I don’t want to go to school any more. I’ve chucked that.’
‘Don’t be daft. Why? I thought you wanted to go to uni?’
‘What’s the point? I like working. I want to work for the Caseys.’
Jack stopped in his tracks and looked down at the puny teenager.
‘Listen, son. You think because you did some work for the scumbag drug dealers you’re a gangster now? You stick to your studies. Believe me – you’ve a lot more to do than work for the Caseys.’
‘But you work for them, and you’re doing all right. You said you’ve always worked for them.’
‘That’s different,’ Jack said. ‘My da worked for old Tim Casey and I grew up in the firm. It was different for me. It was what I was expected to do. You’ve got brains, and more chances than I had.’
‘I’m not going back.’
Jack sighed. ‘Have you told your mum?’
Cal looked at the ground.
‘No. Not yet.’ He shuffled his feet, then looked up at Jack. ‘Listen, man. I need to ask you something.’
‘Sure. What?’
‘You know a moneylender called Tam Dolan?’
Jack looked vague.
‘I know of him. He’s a scumbucket.’
Cal stood for a moment, but he could feel his lip trembling a little.
‘I want to do him in. Can you help me?’
Jack looked bewildered.
‘What? You think you’re in a gangster movie here, son?’
‘Jack,’ Cal said, on the verge of tears of frustration. ‘He’s a cunt! I’m going to do him in, whether you help me or not.’ He glanced up at Jack and could see him studying his face. ‘He raped my mum.’
They stood for a moment in silence, then Jack put his arm around him.
‘Come on. Let’s get you back to work, son.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Knuckles Boyle was ranting so much while he was guzzling his food that he was spraying it across the table. Three of his boys sat opposite him, one of them discreetly wiping a particle of tomato sauce from his cheek.
‘They are fucking winding me up! Every bastard is on the fucking wind up!’ He glared at Terry. ‘Tell me again what that plonker Denny said before you put a bullet in him.’
Terry was Knuckles’ go-to man when he needed information dug out from the streets. He was also good at making people disappear. He sighed and shifted a little in his seat.
‘Denny grassed us up, Knuckles. That wanker Nicky Fauldhouse put him up to it, just to make you look like a prick. He was trying to get you back for turfing him out of that pub he ran for you.’
‘The cunt had his fingers in my till! That’s why I bounced him.’
‘I know. But he’s still bitter.’
‘I’ll bitter him when I fucking track him down.’
‘Anyway,’ Terry went on, ‘Denny said he was paid five grand to make the call to the cops. He did it on the train on the way down.’
Knuckles shook his head, incredulous.
‘How fucking stupid is that? He must have known he was signing his death warrant the moment he made that call. What is it with these people? Anyway, the cops have got no proof the gear was ours, so we’re in the clear – as long as Denny didn’t tell that Jock boy who was with him. Did he say anything about that?’
‘No,’ Terry admitted. ‘But he wouldn’t have given us the truth anyway. I felt it was important just to get rid of him, and that’s what I did.’
‘You should have asked him more questions, Tel.’
‘He’d have been lying through his teeth, Knuckles. How could we rely on someone who’s already grassed us up to the cops on a drop he was getting paid for?’
‘Yeah.’ Knuckles downed a mouthful of beer from his bottle. ‘Suppose you’re right. Anyway, what about this fucker Pollock? I spoke to Frankie up there yesterday and he says it was this Kerry bird who ordered the hit. Nothing to do with him.’
‘Do you think he’s being straight up, Knuckles?’
‘Who, Frankie Martin?’ He looked surprised. ‘He’s our inside man, Tel. He’s never told us any porkies so far. I believe him.’
‘Just thinking. Why hit Pollock, and this other geezer who was with him? They’re nobodies.’
‘Maybe just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Frankie told me that Kerry got the word that Pollock was doing business with us and she was having none of that. He says he got done over to send a message to me.’ He sat back and snorted. ‘Well, who gives a fuck about Pollock anyway. But I’m going to send her a little message to wind her up. We’re not doing any business with them now, so we’ve nothing to lose.’
‘What about Frankie? He still works for them.’
‘I’m going to leave Frankie where he is. He’s useful to us. And once Kerry knows how much out of her depth she is, she’ll disappear. Then we’ll have it all our own way with Frankie in charge.’ He nodded to Terry. ‘Put a fucking bomb into one of their businesses just for a laugh. All right?’
Terry nodded.
‘What about the shipment coming from Amsterdam, boss?’
With so much shit flying around, the shipment had slipped Knuckles’ mind for the last couple of days. It was always Sharon who organised all that like clockwork, and if he was honest he didn’t really know where to start. But he couldn’t admit that here.
‘It’s all on course, as far as I know. I usually get a phone call when it’s left.’
‘You don’t think a couple of the boys should go there just to make sure it’s all right?’
He shook his head. ‘Nah. Well. Maybe. I’ll make a couple of phone calls from here, then we’ll see. But I’m sure everything’s on course.’
Knuckles remembered that some Dutch guy called Jan usually phoned Sharon on the day the lorries were leaving. He didn’t even have his fucking number. He hoped that if Jan couldn’t get Sharon then he would phone him and
let him know. It was either that or send a couple of troops across to Amsterdam where they didn’t even know the lay of the land that well. Bastard Sharon. She was out there somewhere. He’d find her, and this time there would be no fucking escape.
*
As the darkness fell outside, Sharon switched on the lamp. She poured herself a glass of red wine and settled on the sofa, then picked up the piece of paper which had the phone number on it where she could phone her son. Kerry had been good as her word, and had got word to Tony that his mother would be phoning him on this number. Kerry had established that a well-known criminal Marty knew had a son at the boarding school, who could be relied on to get a discreet word to Tony about the call. She drank a mouthful of wine as she wondered what the hell she was going to tell him. For his sake, she’d have to keep it simple. Just tell him she and his dad had split up for the moment. She knew Tony would say nothing about the phone call. She dialled the number and waited. She heard Tony’s voice after one ring, and her stomach turned over.
‘Mum?’
‘Oh, Tony, son! Are you all right?’
‘Mum! What’s going on? You haven’t spoken to me in nearly a week. I’ve called your mobile a few times and it’s not even switched on. And I phoned the house loads, and asked Dad what’s happening. I . . . I . . .’
Sharon’s heart broke as he sounded choked.
‘Aw, Tony, sweetheart, come on now. Don’t worry.’
‘I . . . I thought something had happened to you.’ He sniffed. ‘Or . . . that you had just left.’
‘Tony, darling! Don’t be silly now. You know I would never do that.’ She paused, swallowed. ‘I will never ever leave you, sweetheart. It’ll be me and you against the world for ever. Haven’t I always said that, pet?’
‘Yeah. But what’s wrong? Have you left Dad?’
She listened to him breathing, wished she could put her arms around him and hold him close. He was only thirteen but a young thirteen and, she had to admit, a bit of a mummy’s boy. Plus, this was his first term at boarding school, so he was still getting used to being so far away from home. She missed him every day, and had never wanted to send him away in the first place, but there was no option. She couldn’t have him in the house in the midst of all they did. Tony would have a different life if she had anything to do with it. If he had been at home, Knuckles would have had him working for him and he’d be ruined by the time he was sixteen. Tony wasn’t that kind of boy. He was a sweet, artistic boy, who dreamed of being an actor. That was reason enough in Knuckles’ eyes for him to barely speak to him.
Sharon took a breath.
‘Tony, listen to me. Okay? I need you to understand things and most of all I need you never to tell anyone that we’ve had this conversation.’ She tried to pick her words to protect him from the truth. ‘Yes, I’ve left your dad. You know how it was. It was coming for a while. I don’t want that life for you, and things were getting really messed up.’
‘Did he hit you? I’ll kill him if he hit you, Mum.’
‘No, Tony. No, he didn’t,’ she said. ‘But I’ve left him for good. I know he will be furious at that, so for me, it’s best if he never knows where I am. He never will. I’ll never see him again. I’m so sorry to put you through this, as he’s your dad and I know nothing can ever change that.’
‘He’s nothing to me. I hate him. He doesn’t even like me.’
‘Aw, that’s not true, Tony. He’s still your dad. He’s just a very difficult man. He has a lot of problems.’
‘I don’t want to see him. I want to be with you. I don’t care if I never see him again.’
‘Has he been in touch?’
‘Yes. He’s phoned me twice in the past week to ask if you’ve been in touch. I told him no. He didn’t even ask me how I was doing.’
‘Is he coming to see you? Did he say anything like that?’
‘No. I don’t want to see him. He won’t come here. He’s never even been here.’
It crossed Sharon’s mind that Knuckles was such a bastard she wouldn’t put it past him to use the boy as leverage to get to her. He would sink that low if he had to. She had to think of a way to get Tony out of his school and away to somewhere safe without causing a fuss.
‘Okay. Well, just keep quiet about our chat. I’m working on a way that we can be together. Away from here. But it’s not going to happen right away. It’s important that you say nothing and just keep your head down. You know that lad who told you that I was phoning you?’
‘Yes. Max. He’s a bit of a nutter. But dead smart.’
‘Is he all right with you? Not bullying or anything?’
‘No. He’s in the year above me, but he’s really popular and funny. I don’t know him apart from to say hello to. He was very cautious when we spoke and told me to keep my mouth zipped. He’s all right though. This is his phone he let me use.’
‘Good. I’m going to get a mobile down to you so we can keep in touch. It will be one that is untraceable just in case anything happens, and the only person you’re to phone on it is me. You got that? I don’t want your dad to look at your account and maybe find a way to track me through numbers that have phoned your mobile. You understand?’
‘Yeah. But when will I be able to see you?’
‘Darling, you just stick into your work. The holidays are coming up soon, so we’ll work something out. Meanwhile, are you okay and strong enough to make sure you say nothing if your dad phones you?’
‘Of course.’ Again the sniffs. ‘I love you, Mum. I miss you.’
Sharon bit her lip.
‘I know, sweetheart. I love you more. Don’t ever forget that. Everything I do, I do it for you. Just keep calm and work hard. I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry.’
‘Okay, Mum.’
‘I mean it. Off you go now. Goodnight, my darling.’
‘Goodnight, Mum. Love you.’
He hung up, and for the first time since all this happened, the floodgates opened. Sharon could feel her chest heaving and the sob came out like a dam breaking. She wept for the desolation she could hear in Tony’s voice, and she wept because it had come to this: that after all these years here she was plotting the downfall of the man she had once loved.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As Kerry came out of the shower in her white bathrobe and with her hair wrapped in a towel, there was a knock on her bedroom door.
‘Kerry?’ It was the housekeeper. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but there’s someone on the house phone wants to speak to you. It’s a DI Burns?’
Kerry’s ears pricked up. This was never going to be good news, whatever the cops wanted. But she had to take the call.
‘Okay, Sasha. If you stick him on the extension here I’ll talk to him.’
‘Sure.’
Kerry puffed up the pillows on her bed and lay back, splashing some toner on her face, which was flushed from the long hot shower. She’d been looking forward to a quiet afternoon, going over some plans for the business and having a serious look at the documents and legal papers of Danno O’Hara’s failed hotel plan on the Costa del Sol. She patted some face cream on as she lay down and lifted the receiver after two rings.
‘Kerry? DI Burns here. Sorry to disturb you.’
Yeah, right, Kerry thought, musing on the determined look he had that day he’d dropped in on her with some vague hope she would divulge all the family secrets. He’d set the parameters of who he was that day, when she almost called him ‘Vinny’ until she saw how stony-faced he was at her familiarity. But she was curious.
‘That’s all right, Detective Inspector,’ she said with emphasis.
There was a brief silence and she waited.
‘Kerry, I was wondering if we could have a chat. If you’re free some time.’
‘A chat?’ Kerry almost smiled, sensing an awkwardness in his voice. ‘What about? The good old days when we were all skint?’
‘Well. No. Not really. But I wanted to talk to you about a few things. Look, I don’t t
hink I handled things very well the other day when we spoke at your house, but I’d really like to talk to further.’
Kerry waited a moment, figuring out how to answer.
‘Have you found my brother and mother’s killers yet?’
‘Actually no. As I said to you, I believe someone got there before us.’
Kerry didn’t answer.
‘Look, Kerry. Rather than come to the house in a formal way, would you be up for a bit of a chat – maybe some lunch in the city?’
Kerry felt herself smiling.
‘Are you asking me out on a date, Inspector?’
She could hear the humour in his voice.
‘No. It’s not a date, Kerry.’
‘Sounds like a date to me.’ She played with him, picturing his handsome face.
‘Well. Call it whatever you like. But would you be up for an informal chat? Just you and me?’
It crossed Kerry’s mind that he might be bent and was organising a cosy lunch with her to put his cards on the table. Wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. But if this was what it was, she would have to work out how to deal with it.
‘Yeah, sure. I can meet you.’
Again, after all these years, the image flashed up of the last day they saw each other, the tears in his eyes. All the promises. It was as though it never even happened. Had he just completely forgotten about it?
‘Okay. How about La Lanterna? You know, in Hope Street. Are you free tomorrow?’
‘I can make myself free.’
‘Good. Thanks. How about one o’clock?’
‘Okay. I can do that.’ She paused. ‘And will a couple of your flunkies be sitting at the table close by picking up our every word?’
‘Nah. That only happens in the movies.’
‘Okay. I’ll be there. Don’t be late. I don’t do late.’
‘Me neither. See you, Kerry.’
She hung up and closed her eyes, a little unsettled by the phone call. Best not to give it too much thought, she decided, play it by ear. She was smart enough to do a bit of fencing with Vinny Burns. But somehow his call, the sound of his voice, had made her mind drift to places she seldom went these days.
