by Katsura
He chose to stay well away from Judas during the recent court case as being just out of prison, he was in no great hurry to go back. It was common practice for a lawyer faced with protesting the innocence of an obviously guilty client to resort to using the special defence of incrimination.
Without an actual case to argue, the old “My client didn’t do it…but that man over there did!” was trawled out. This tactic was just a great finger pointing exercise and Fergus did not want the finger to be pointed at him.
“What the fuck do you want?” Fergus said with irritation.
“What a nice welcome.” Judas drawled as he sat down in the chair in front of Fergus’s desk. He rested the ankle of one foot against the knee of his other leg and showed his expensive yet tacky looking snake skin shoes. Maybe some people would have found Mikhail to be the tacky one, but not Fergus. He loved how the blond brothel-keeper looked. Judas on the other hand, appeared like a real joke. A rather unfunny, too often repeated, annoying joke. “I’ll cut to the chase then shall I?”
Judas leaned forward and lit a cigarette. Ewan came over to stand protectively at the back of his chair. “I want my fucking money. I want my fucking cut.” Judas slipped his mouth into wide grin. A Cheshire cat looking for his cream. “You are not getting away with keeping it for yourself. There’s me, Vinny and Ewan here owed and I am not leaving until we get our share.”
Fergus snorted contemptuously and sat back to regard him with hatred. He knew Judas referred to the proceeds of the bank robbery that they had all taken part in.
Despite the fact Judas had been caught, the robbery had actually been a success. Fergus had wanted Judas to be caught. He had paid handsomely for it. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Jude. You think I keep it here? In the fucking safe that you know the combination of?
Don’t worry. You’ll get what is coming to you.”
“Oh ha, fucking, ha.” Judas narrowed his eyes. He shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed on Fergus’s face. “You tried that before remember? I don’t go down easy and I’ll certainly never go down for you.”
“Oh I hear you go down at the drop of a zip.” Fergus grinned. “Come on, Jude?
You’ve sucked so much cock you’ll have a statue built in your honour. A nice quality bronze, on its knees, mouth open so that any fuck can shoot off in it. More popular than sticking the traffic cone on the Duke of Wellington’s head will be shoving your cock in the great Judas MacGregor’s gub. There’ll be postcards and everything.”
Judas actually laughed at this and Fergus had the horrible idea that the thought of being immortalised in this way pleased him.
Ewan, apparently sensible enough, despite his appearance, to notice that the conversation was about to degenerate even further, lifted his chin. “I got kids, Fergie.
Only reason I did that job with you was for them. I want my money.” He spoke in a clear yet quiet voice, something that always surprised people if they didn’t know him well as he really did look like a complete thug.
Fergus smirked and stared at them both. “What do you take me for?”
“A thieving back stabbing crook who is now sitting on a pile of loot that was meant to be split five ways. Now I don’t give a fuck about you and I don’t give a fuck about Rasputin. But me and my boys want our money and we want it now.” Judas blew a cloud of smoke across the desk at him and Fergus continued to sneer.
“I’m not you, Jude. You really are an asshole of the highest order. But I have no beef with you, Ewan and I have no beef with Vinny. You will get your money. All of you.”
“Just words.” Judas smiled. “I’m sure you will appreciate that I don’t trust you.”
“Then don’t fucking trust me.” Fergus got to his feet. He went over to the safe that was on the wall behind the desk, and turned the dial. The door fell open and he stood aside so that the contents were visible to the other men. “I told you it is not here. You will get your fucking money, but it is not here.”
“Then where the fuck is it?” Judas stood up too and he approached the safe, where he raked his hand about in the contents. There was a pile of documents and an envelope which Judas lifted out boldly. He pulled out the few black and white photographs that it contained, then looked quizzically at Fergus. “That bastard, Wilson. And his son?
What you got pictures of them for?”
“He doesn’t have a son.” Ewan spoke up, his head nodding slowly. “He has a daughter. I seen them up the golf club once. Great fat thing she is too.”
“Aha!” Judas grinned. “Dirty bastard.”
He looked over the pictures again and pursed his lips as he appraised the people in the images. “What is he? About eighteen? Less? What a naughty little man…”
Judas’s estimation was about right. The young guy was about eighteen. A smart little fucker who likely did very little in exchange for the detective inspector paying his digs for him and keeping him supplied in video games. That fact was irrelevant. It didn’t matter if the guy got fucked day and night or only had to wash the cop’s socks for him. Blackmail was blackmail and what the picture didn’t show, no doubt Mrs Wilson could fill in for herself.
“I’ve no time to gossip with you, Jude. The cash is at my place.” Fergus nudged him aside with his shoulder and closed the safe again. “And I don’t want you three jerks barging in over there and pissing off Hugo. You can come over tomorrow night.”
“Yes we mustn’t upset the little lady.” Judas grinned and sauntered over to the door. “He bites…”
He snapped his jaws back in the direction of Fergus who looked at him, if possible, with even more contempt than before.
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Fergus strode over and Ewan immediately put himself between him and Judas. “If you have so much as looked at him I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll cut off your dick and nail it to your fucking forehead.”
He was deadly serious. Although it was common knowledge that Fergus was not in love with his weird and vicious little husband, he was fiercely possessive of him. To touch that young sadist was effectively like signing your own death warrant.
Judas simply smiled and continued out the door. “Oh don’t worry. No one has touched your precious Hugo. We will see you tomorrow night. Don’t go to any trouble now will you?” He glanced back. “I’ll bring dessert.”
*
Hugo was uncharacteristically cheerful. He wandered around the dining room and checked again that the place was prepared for his husband’s guests. It didn’t matter to him that they were all a bunch of hoodlums. He actually used to be one himself, of sorts. People rarely came to Casa Campbell and he wanted it all to look nice, regardless of who the visitors were and what their occupations.
A small Chinese crested dog followed him loyally around and regarded its skinny owner with devotion. Every now and then Hugo would reward the freakish little mutt by stooping to pat the mess of hair between its ears.
“Now, Mikhail…” The pet was named after the blond trashy whore who had tried to steal his husband, but who had then actually brought them back together again,
“When daddy’s friends are here you be a good boy, okay? You must not steal the snacks. I shall save you some and you can have them later.”
The dog of course didn’t understand a word that he was saying but it watched Hugo with respect and Hugo liked that. It was something that he really wasn’t used to.
He walked to the mirror to check his appearance and smiled softly at the thin young man who stared back at him from the glass. He had black hair that he wore parted to the side and collar length. His eyes were of a similar shade, very dark and almost unfathomable. His lips were thin and surrounded by very tiny scars, the relics of a previous road accident that had been entirely his fault. But you could only really see the scars if you were right up close to him and mostly people never felt confident enough to do that.
Hugo turned and glanced down at the rear of his long black frock coat. The collar was heavy with fur and
he raised it, pleased at how the dark spiked fabric framed his face. With a cheerful grin, he addressed the dog again. “Mummy is looking good,” He chuckled musically. “I will be the star of the show tonight!”
Hugo hopped playfully onto the sofa and pulled his bare feet up. He then sat like a child at Christmas might. With a look of expectation.
“Only a few hours to go, Mikhail!” He stared rapt at the clock on the mantle.
*
“I’d love a place like this one day.” Vinny walked at Judas’s side. He stared ahead at the rambling townhouse that belonged to Fergus Campbell. A great gothic bulk of a thing, and very out of place in the street in which it was situated. “Fuck sake, there must be like about twenty bedrooms.”
“Four, baby. And they are actually really small.” Judas looked up at one of the coloured glass panelled windows, and Vinny nudged him with amusement.
“Since when were you in Fergie’s bedroom?” He blinked in playful shock.
Judas grinned and shook his head. “Aw it was a while back. I was moving something for Hugo.”
“The Earth?” Vinny nudged him again and grinned cheekily.
“Don’t even fucking joke about that, Vinny.” Ewan walked a little bit behind them and he also stared up at the grand but somewhat neglected abode. “Jude has already been threatened with castration over that wee psycho.”
“Well technically, emasculation.” Judas corrected him. “Fergie said he’d cut my dick off if I touched him.”
“Well who the fuck would want to touch him?” Vinny went up the few steps to the door and rang the doorbell. “He’s an ugly wee bastard, don’t you think?”
The door had stained glass too. A fancy oval-shaped affair which featured a colourful sail boat being tossed around on a stormy sea. Perhaps the house had once belonged to a shipping merchant and the artwork was a tribute to his occupation. If Fergus had been responsible for it being there, it would have depicted a sawn off shotgun and a wad of notes. An appropriate, but far less vibrant image for the home of a bank robber.
“Well not ugly. But sex with Hugo is like being strapped to a washing machine on the spin cycle.” Judas replied and took his sunglasses from out of his pocket, putting them on. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Fuck sake, Jude! You never…did you?” Vinny looked wide eyed and he snorted with laughter. “Ha you’re winding me up, ya bastard.”
“Course I am.” Judas winked and Vinny looked unsure if he was telling the truth or not.
Ewan turned his head to look at the little dog that had appeared at the front window and was yapping incessantly at them. “What the fuck’s that? A rat?” Ewan appeared to shudder. “Is castration not the same as emasculation then?”
Judas didn’t answer, distracted by the fact that Hugo had opened the door. Fergus’s young spouse stood and looked at them from the hallway, his appearance like that of a ghost.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Do please come in.” He stood aside to let them pass and his eyes visibly roved over Judas as he stepped into the hallway.
Judas smiled at him. “You look charming as ever, Hugo.”
Hugo bounced excitedly on his toes. “As do you, Jude.” He brushed his hand smoothly over Judas’s sleeve. “May I take your coat?”
“Naw.” Judas shook his head. “It can get chilly here if I remember.”
Hugo fluttered his eyelashes. “Chilly?” He tilted his head. “Oh when you were here last I remember it being rather…hot, actually.”
“Good evening, Morticia.” Vinny approached Hugo and gave a dramatic bow. “We have come to see Gomez.”
Hugo did not look amused and he walked on towards the dining room to the sound of the three men’s laughter.
They hadn’t been the first to arrive. Rasputin sat on the leather sofa a large goblet shaped glass of wine in his hand and Judas sat next to him. Hugo quickly furnished Judas with his favourite tipple. A generous neat measure of Lagavulin. “Thank you, Hugo.” Judas took the glass and sat back against the sumptuous cushions to enjoy it.
“Rasputin. You will be as eager to get your dosh as we are?”
Rasputin grunted in a non-committal way. Not surprising. He was firmly in the pocket of the Campbells. No way he’d readily take part in any criticism of Fergus, be it blatant or otherwise. And especially not with Judas.
“So is it Halloween then?” Vinny took a chair by the fire and Ewan sat opposite him. Vinny was always the joker and Ewan looked clearly amused.
“Please excuse Vinny, Mr McAllister. He doesn’t get out much.” Ewan said in an indulgent tone. Despite being married to Fergus in a civil ceremony Hugo still preferred to go by his family name of McAllister, at least, that’s what he told people. In reality the reason he was not a Campbell was Fergus’s father would never stand for it. He accepted that his son was gay but he would never accept the fact that he’d married a man. To all of the Campbells aside from Fergus, Hugo simply didn’t exist. It was obvious to anyone who knew them as a couple that sometimes Fergus thought this too.
“Oh that is okay, Ewan.” Hugo poured him a drink. “Vinny has never struck me as someone who would know how to behave in civilised company.”
“Well don’t I get a drink?” Vinny, who had spent a good few years in prison, was used to insults and this one obviously washed over him. He put out his hand to Hugo, but no drink was forthcoming. Fergus had just walked into the room and he looked furious.
“What the fuck is going on here?” He looked around at the assembled men, then to the carefully arranged snacks Hugo had sat on the table. Hugo had missed his calling.
The spread was straight out of a Martha Stewart special, pre prison of course. Rasputin piled sandwiches onto the fine Campbell porcelain obviously hungry as he had chosen one of each kind. “What the fuck? It’s not a fucking tea party!”
Fergus hit the plate from Rasputin’s hand and Judas let out a low chuckle as Hugo’s dog bolted out from beneath the table to snaffle up the various bits of meat and bread the second they landed on the carpet.
“I told you to send them all downstairs, you fucking half-wit!” Fergus yelled at Hugo. “Why the fuck are they all sitting around in here?”
“So it’s not just me that doesn’t know how to behave in civilised company…” Vinny grinned at Ewan and Ewan laughed as he got to his feet with the others.
“I just thought it would be nice to make your guests comfortable.” Hugo began to protest but Fergus stopped him with a powerful slap across the face. In normal circumstances, if someone had been struck in such a way in front of so many witnesses, it would be expected that at least one of them would step in and say it was out of order or some such thing. None of them did. They just carried their drinks to the door as Hugo stood and brought his hand to his reddened cheek.
“You thought?” Fergus lifted the decanter of whisky. He walked to the door with the others, the fancy crystal held firmly in his fist. “If I wanted someone who could think, I certainly wouldn’t be with you.”
Down in the basement Fergus had a pretty good games room. He and Judas each took a snooker cue from the rack on the wall and immediately began to set up a game.
Neither of them invited the other to a match, it just seemed like a natural thing to do when confronted by the temptation of the green baize.
Judas perched his sunglasses atop his head and leaned across the table to take his shot. Fergus stood, sipping his drink, and watched while waiting for his turn. Snooker, like poker and darts, was one of those things hoods just seemed to pick up naturally and although Judas probably never remembered when he’d had his first game or how he had learned the rules, he was actually quite good at it. Considering himself too attractive to risk his features in boxing, and not fat or drunk enough to play darts, this was how the younger Judas had wormed his way into the company of the crooks that he so idolised. It wasn’t difficult. Turn up at the local snooker hall, play a good enough game to have people interested in betting on you and Bob’s your uncle. Of c
ourse Judas also had form, essential for every young hoodlum looking to be in the employ of a serious organised gang. He’d had a small stint in prison as a teenager. Perversely, this allowed him to be considered as fairly trustworthy, even though the time spent incarcerated had been no more than a few days and a living hell for Judas. That was his CV. He’d been in the nick and was entertaining enough with a cue to be worth a watch.
Fergus was also quite a good player but nowhere near as talented as Judas.
Vinny sat on a bar stool under the dartboard, drink in hand and a rapt expression on his face as he watched both men play their silent game. Take a shot, have a sip of your drink when you were done. That was how it went.
“So…” Rasputin stood next to Ewan. “It seems the young freak has taken up with the bitch?”
People often called Judas the bitch. It didn’t really bother him and he actually answered to it if addressed as such.
“Naw,” Ewan laughed. “Jude and Vinny? That will never happen. I’m not even sure that Vinny is queer. Or if Jude is for that matter. Jude’s a sex addict so I guess he sees a hole and fills it. You know like if you’re a chocaholic, you can’t help yourself. My wife’s one of them. Chocoholic I mean. Thank fuck. Easier to keep her happy with the odd box of Quality Street than a podger.”
“Oh don’t be so sure about Jude and Vinny.” Rasputin grinned. “I have seen odder couples.”
Ewan was never really one for gossip but something about Rasputin’s tone of voice made him listen. He angled his head to look at Rasputin’s face as Judas stepped back from the table to allow Fergus to chalk his cue and take a shot.
