Blood Feud

by Anna Smith

  He hung up and she sat with the phone in her hand, staring at it. Then she called Kerry.

  ‘Kerry. It’s me.’

  ‘Are you all right? Where are you?’

  ‘I’m in the Tebay service station, just off the M6. Please come. I’ve had Knuckles on the phone. He’s got our Tony and he’s found the secret mobile. Oh, Kerry, I heard him slapping the kid. Our Tony is such a gentle boy. I’m terrified he’s going to do something to him.’

  ‘Okay. Don’t worry. He won’t harm his own son. He’s not that much of a bastard. He’s just using the boy to get to you.’

  ‘I know he is. But you don’t know Knuckles, Kerry. He’ll stop at nothing. He thinks I’m still with Frankie, and I told him the van was locked and I was somewhere in Scotland. He’s never going to come looking for me. But he wants me down there. The shipment is coming tomorrow and he wants me there. He wants me there, so he can kill me. He’s got Tony and he’s luring me down to my death.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen. Just sit tight. We’ll be with you in the next couple of hours.’

  She hung up, and Sharon sank back in her seat. For the first time in her life she felt she had no control over what was going to happen next. Even the day she was being driven to her execution, she had still known that with a gun in her handbag she had a fighting chance of survival. And she’d won. Right now, she was at the mercy of other people. Her son was at the mercy of a father who didn’t even like him because he had shown no appetite for the thuggery that had made him a fortune. But she could do nothing but wait.

  *

  Kerry called Vinny’s mobile number.

  ‘Vinny. Sharon’s been in touch. I’m going to see her.’

  ‘Is she in Glasgow?’

  ‘No. Somewhere in the north of England – and I’m not bullshitting. But if you want to talk to her ahead of this shipment arriving tomorrow, then now would be a good time. I’m going to get her a hotel for the night, and I’ll be there in a couple of hours.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll follow you. Let me know where, and I’ll meet you.’

  ‘Totally unofficially though.’

  ‘Of course. But if we’re going to be involved in an operation tomorrow then I have to get people organised and in place.’

  ‘Sure. But just don’t turn up mob-handed to meet Sharon.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Kerry was tired by the time they got to the hotel outside Manchester. They’d agreed they would hole up for the night, and be in place for the next day. She’d been relieved to see that Sharon was waiting for her inside the Merc van, as arranged, in the car park of the motorway service station. She and Jack had come down in the Jag with the chauffeur, and Danny and a couple of his men travelled in a 4 × 4. She still had no idea how things would pan out tomorrow, but she’d told Vinny all the details of when the shipment was coming in and exactly where. This was their chance to nail Knuckles – as long as he was in the warehouse when it arrived. And even if he wasn’t, it was still a shipment of drugs being delivered to a premises he owned and used. After Sharon’s call, she was sure that Knuckles would be there in person to oversee the shipment’s arrival. But she knew the shipment was only part of his agenda. As soon as Sharon showed up anywhere close to the warehouse, all hell could break loose. They’d have to wait and see. She poured Sharon a cup of coffee as they sat at the table in the suite she’d booked for the night. Sharon’s eyes looked puffy from tiredness and perhaps crying. She couldn’t blame her.

  ‘You must be shattered, Sharon.’

  ‘I passed shattered about three hours ago. I’m wired to the moon now,’ she said, lifting the cup to her lips. ‘I just want to get this over with.’ She shook her head. ‘To be honest, I’m weary, Kerry. When I heard my Tony crying tonight, I nearly lost it. All I want is for him to be safe and happy. Not with that bloody thug for a father. He deserves better. Even if I get myself shot tomorrow, I just need my son to be safe.’

  ‘Don’t even think that way.’

  They sat in silence for a moment, Kerry watching as Sharon stared at the table, biting her lip.

  ‘Kerry. Listen. If anything happens to me . . . I mean, I don’t even really know you, but I trust you, from what I’ve seen. You’ve taken me at face value, so, whatever happens tomorrow, I appreciate you taking me in when I was desperate. I hope I get out of this and we can work together. But . . . but if I don’t, if something happens to me, and if Knuckles gets done by the cops, then he’s facing life in jail. My Tony will have nobody.’ She swallowed. ‘I shouldn’t even ask you this, but I have nobody else I can ask. If something happens to me, will you please see that Tony gets looked after?’

  Kerry reached across and touched her wrist.

  ‘Sharon. Nothing’s going to happen. Of course I will make sure your son is looked after. But I won’t need to. You’ll be there for him. His dad will be in jail, and you and Tony can have your own life together. Don’t worry.’

  It sounded convincing. But Kerry knew that anything could go wrong tomorrow. All she had done was pass on the information to the police – how they handled the operation was up to them. She knew the officers would be armed and in position wherever they were, so if it came to a shoot-out, anything could happen. It didn’t bear thinking about. She would be far enough away until it was over, but Sharon had to be at the heart of it. That was the only way to do it.

  There was a gentle knock on the door, and Jack got up and answered it. He turned and made eyes at Kerry, and she knew it would be Vinny. Jack wasn’t that comfortable with this entire cooperation situation with the cops, as it went against the grain of everything he’d done all his life, but he knew this was the only way to take Knuckles Boyle down. And in the end, everyone would benefit. Vinny came in, looking pale, his face showing nothing as he glanced around the room. He nodded to Kerry, then looked at Sharon. Kerry gestured for him to sit down next to her.

  ‘Sharon, I’m DI Vincent Burns.’ He put his hand out and she shook it briefly, nodding. ‘Okay, Sharon.’ He glanced at everyone. ‘Right now we are completely unofficial, off the record, you understand? Nothing is going to happen to you here as a result of this meeting. But I want to say thanks for your help, and what I hope will be your continued cooperation.’

  Sharon said nothing. Kerry watched Vinny. He’d already seemed to take some of the heat out from Sharon just by his approach. At the end of the day he was a cop first. But having worked undercover over the years bringing down drug barons, he was obviously good at getting people onside.

  ‘So. When was the last contact you had with Knuckles Boyle?’

  ‘Tonight. He called me on the secret mobile my son uses to talk to me. He must have found it. He took my boy from his school, and I really fear for his safety more than anything, Inspector. More than my own. That’s all I care about.’

  Vinny nodded. ‘I can understand your fears. And we’ll be well aware that your son’s safety is paramount. Now. Tomorrow. Have you made any firm arrangements with him?’

  ‘No. But he’s going to be phoning me back, no doubt soon, because when I talked to him, I said I was still in the back of the van, that I didn’t know where Frankie Martin was.’

  Sharon looked at Kerry, not quite sure if she was saying the right thing.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Kerry said. ‘I’ve told the DI everything that happened. He had people up at the hotel within minutes of you being taken, making enquiries. You were clocked on CCTV leaving the car park with a man.’

  ‘Yeah. That wasn’t Frankie though. That was some other guy.’

  Vinny pulled a photograph out of the folder he carried, and then another one. He put them on the table.

  ‘Is this guy the one who took you out of the car park?’

  Sharon leaned over and had a closer look.

  ‘Yeah. Same guy. Older man. He stuck a gun in my back. You know who he is?’

  Vinny nodded and looked at both of them, then at Jack.

  �
�Joey Tarditti. Known as the Fireman. He’s the go-to man for insurance jobs or general destruction of property, or anything really. He sets fires. It would be him who set the fire. Started in the kitchen.’

  Sharon nodded but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Have you found him yet?’ Kerry asked.

  ‘No. His grandkid is being christened on Sunday, so he’s here for that, but he’s lying low after tonight. But we’ll get him. Frankie will have hired him.’

  They sat in silence for a moment. Sharon spoke first.

  ‘So what happens tomorrow? I mean, if he phones me? He’s already told me I have to be at the warehouse. The shipment is coming in – usually late afternoon or early evening. He gets them all the time, and the place is totally watertight. Lots of security even down the road a bit. I don’t know how this is going to pan out.’

  ‘We’re on that,’ Vinny reassured her. ‘Don’t worry about that. You just be as natural as you can. You’re obviously distraught after your ordeal today and in recent weeks, but it’s important that you are able to stay calm. Do you think you can do this? We would want to wire you up. How do you feel about that?’

  Sharon sighed.

  ‘If I get found with a wire, I’ll be dead before I take a step forward. No two ways about it.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll search you?’

  ‘For a weapon they will.’

  ‘That’s okay. Our equipment is very, very discreet.’

  Sharon shrugged. ‘Yeah. Okay. I’ll wear a wire. I’ll do whatever it takes.’

  ‘Good.’

  Sharon looked at Kerry.

  ‘Then I walk away, right? With my son.’

  Kerry and Sharon both looked at Vinny, who said nothing for a long moment. Kerry glanced at Jack, whose face was stern.

  ‘Yes,’ Vinny eventually said. ‘But we’re a long way from that. It’s a big operation tomorrow.’ He stood up. ‘So let’s try and can get some sleep.’

  He stood up and went towards the door, then turned.

  ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

  *

  Knuckles sat opposite Tony at their kitchen table, trying not to look at his son’s surly face. How the hell could a guy like him produce a wimpy kid like this? He shook his head as he flicked off the cap from a beer bottle. He handed Tony a can of Coke. The big pizza box that had just been delivered sat in the middle of the table, like a peace offering.

  ‘Well. Go on then, kid. Get stuck in before it gets cold.’

  He watched as the boy didn’t reply, but gently opened the box and pulled out a slice of pizza. He looked at his father and put his hand out for Knuckles’ plate.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Knuckles said, chuckling. ‘Manners and everything. At least I’m not wasting my money up in that Jock private school to turn out a boy with no manners. Here you are.’

  Knuckles handed him the plate and Tony didn’t answer, but placed the slice of pizza on it and handed it back to him. Then he put a slice on his own plate, lifted it to his mouth and tore a piece off. Knuckles watched him, glad that at least the little bugger had stopped crying and looked like he was enjoying his scran. He took a chunk out of his own pizza and watched Tony as he chewed. And somewhere inside there was a little twist of pain or regret or something he didn’t recognise, but he hadn’t felt it before. This little nipper across the table from him, with his baby-bum pink cheeks and big blue eyes, was his own flesh and blood. Yet, in all the time he’d been around, they’d never spent any time together – just the two of them. That was partly his fault, he knew that, because he was always busy and he left Sharon to do all that baby and toddler shit, as well as running after him when he was a little boy. But as he’d grown older, Knuckles had somehow missed it. The boy scarcely looked at him or gave him the time of day. He was a mummy’s boy, always hanging around her in the kitchen or out in the car, and if he was in the house, then he was either on his computer or had his head buried in a book. I should be proud of that, Knuckles chastised himself, but he hadn’t been. He’d chosen to ignore the boy because he didn’t want to be part of his world. But now there was only the two of them. And after tomorrow that’s how it would always be. So the pair of them better start getting used to it.

  After they devoured the pizza, Knuckles brought ice cream out of the freezer and spooned a few dollops into bowls for them. He watched, impressed, as the boy polished it off.

  ‘You were hungry, kid, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. Starving.’ He sat back and yawned. ‘I’m tired now, Dad. Do you mind if I go to bed?’

  ‘No. Course not, lad. You get some sleep. It’s been a long day.’

  Deep down, Knuckles wished he would stay around a little longer, maybe even have a conversation. But maybe it was too late for that. Maybe it had been too late a long time ago.

  The boy stood up and pushed his chair in.

  ‘Listen, son,’ Knuckles said, awkward. ‘Look. I’m sorry I hit you earlier.’

  Tony glanced at him and his face reddened, then his eyes went to the floor. He didn’t answer.

  ‘Really. I’m sorry. Things just got a bit out of hand. I’ve had a lot on my mind of late. And things . . . Well, things with your mam and me, they’re not great.’

  Tony nodded his head slowly.

  ‘Is Mum coming back tomorrow?’

  ‘We’ll see, kid. On you go to your kip now. Get some sleep.’

  He watched his son go out of the room and could see him in the hall as he padded slowly up the stairs to his bedroom. Knuckles sat back and sighed.

  ‘What a right fucking mess.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Kerry and Jack were in the hotel room as the female detective fitted Sharon with the wire device in the loo. Vinny had let them see it before they put it in. It was no bigger than a watch battery, and sealed with some special tape onto the front of her bra. They’d told her it was completely undetectable even by electronic equipment, but Vinny didn’t expect Knuckles to have any sophisticated searching device other than one of his thugs patting Sharon down. Sharon looked tired and drawn, the last couple of days had taken their toll, Kerry thought, as she emerged from the bathroom.

  ‘You all set?’ Kerry asked.

  ‘As much as I can be.’ She sat down, poured herself a glass of water. ‘Knuckles phoned me this morning. On my own phone this time. And he put Tony on to talk to me.’ She screwed up her face. ‘It was a bit weird, in that Knuckles wasn’t angry and threatening. He said he had a pizza with Tony last night in the kitchen and that it was good spending time with him.’ She puffed. ‘That’s a first, I’ll tell you that. He never spends any bloody time with the boy. They have no relationship whatsoever. So I’m not sure what his game is. But it feels a bit like I’m being lulled into some kind of sense of security so that I turn up as arranged and hand over everything I have. But I don’t bloody trust him. As soon as he gets what he wants, I’m history. I’m not daft. But I played along with his Mr Nice Guy routine anyway. I’ve seen it before.’

  ‘How was Tony?’ Kerry asked.

  ‘He was fine. Seemed more relaxed than yesterday. Not as scared. But he kept asking when he’ll see me.’ She swallowed and turned away from them, standing up and going across to the large window. ‘Can see the whole city from here. I can almost see pictures of myself across the place from when I was a little kid out with my mam, until all the mad stuff took over.’ She shook her head. ‘Christ. My whole life is out there.’

  Kerry exchanged glances with Vinny and the detective. Jack’s face was impassive. They stayed that way in silence for a long moment, each with their thoughts. Kerry knew Jack had made his own arrangements for bodies to be posted in strategic spots near the warehouse, and there were already two of their cars on the tail of the truck carrying the container of cocaine since it left Southampton an hour ago. She hadn’t shared this information with Vinny, but then he hadn’t shared any of his plan with her either. He had simply informed them that this was a big operation involving Glasgow
and Manchester armed police as well as officers from the National Crime Agency.

  Vinny’s mobile rang and he put the phone to his ear, then nodded to the constable and they both left the room. Jack stood up.

  ‘Kerry, I’m going to make some calls. See where the boys are and check things are going okay.’

  ‘I hope your boys know that Knuckles will have everything covered around that area. It’s a private road up to the warehouse, so he’ll have someone on the bottom of that to check the truck in.’

  ‘We’re all right,’ Jack said.

  Kerry said nothing. Before she’d decided to bring in the cops, the plan had been to use the shipment arrival to wipe out Knuckles and any of his mob who were present. They’d talked about planting their own men in the truck, so that when it arrived all hell would be unleashed on Knuckles. Everyone would know in time how the Caseys dealt out the final revenge for the killing of Mickey and for the stunt at his funeral that left her mother dead. Danny and Jack had been against getting into bed with the cops from the start, but Kerry had convinced them that getting him nailed by the cops with a drugs haul like this would mean he wouldn’t see the outside of a prison cell for a very long time. If it all went wrong in the police operation, and Knuckles was killed in the crossfire, then so be it. That would be an even better result. She had left the logistics up to Danny and Jack. If they had a plan to take Knuckles right out of the game in the middle of the chaos, she didn’t want to know.

  *

  Frankie Martin was so cold, he thought he must have died. It was the chill through his bones that finally made him stir and he began to feel his eyes flickering. Where the fuck was he? One of his eyes began to open and he could see greyness above, and feel cold rain on his cheeks. He was outside somewhere, and as he attempted to move his legs, he could feel the dampness and icy cold on his back. He dug his heels into what felt like soft earth. He blinked his eyes open, but when he moved them from side to side, a searing pain shot through his head. Then he remembered. Fuck! The bitch had hit him with something. He slowly moved his hand up to touch the source of the pain with his freezing fingers. His hair felt solid, and when he pulled his hand away there was congealed blood. Bitch! How the fuck had it happened so quickly? Slowly he began to move his legs and his arms, and eventually was able to half sit up, leaning on his elbow. He peered at his watch. It was eight o’clock. He must have been lying here all night. How the fuck was he still alive? He forced himself further up and got to his knees and then his feet, his head pounding. He felt dizzy and staggered for a second before taking a breath and steadying himself. In front of him was a narrow path down through woodland leading Christ knows where. He turned slowly around, and he saw the path going the opposite way to the motorway. What the fuck! He’d been in this spot a couple of years ago, along with Mickey and a couple of the lads disposing of the body of Tim Duffy, a fuckwit dealer who’d tried to muscle in on their turf, and who had had the cheek to pull a gun on Mickey in a nightclub weeks earlier. Frankie looked down the narrow path. His body, or, more likely, his bones would be down there somewhere, given the length of time that had passed.