Lesson in Betrayal

by Katsura

  “Oh?” Ewan sipped his drink. Rasputin lowered his voice a fraction so that the others would not overhear him.

  “Fergie…and that blond guy, Mikhail?” Rasputin nodded. “Yeah. He came by the office yesterday. I hadn’t seen him around in ages but he just showed up in all his finery and swans into the office. Then what do you know? Boss has a smile on his face for the rest of the day. Well until you showed up with Jude at least.”

  Ewan laughed. He wasn’t sure why he did this as Rasputin’s story hadn’t been amusing at all. He continued to watch the snooker match, not really interested in whether Fergus was humping the brothel keeper or not. The tone of Rasputin’s voice had implied something of far more interest than that.

  But someone had been interested.

  Hugo stood in the shadows by the door to the basement, close behind Ewan and Rasputin, his mouth turned down bitterly.

  Since the night at the cottage when it seemed that Mikhail had turned his back on Fergus, leaving him to the rightful embraces of his husband, Fergus had not raised a hand to Hugo.

  Before that, he was slapped around on a regular basis and Hugo began to piece together the reasons for that.

  When Fergus left prison, he met and started fucking Mikhail. He also started to beat Hugo more regularly. Then when Mikhail was out of the picture, Hugo had been spared the bouts of violence. He had been spared them until the slap he had just received as he tried to make a nice evening in the dining room.

  Mikhail comes to see Fergus in his office.

  Fergus slaps Hugo for practically no reason.

  This could mean only one thing…

  Fergus was fucking Mikhail again.

  The match was over. Judas looked smug in his victory and Fergus casually poured himself another drink as though defeat meant nothing to him. Ewan looked at his watch and coughed exaggeratedly into his fist.

  “Ah yes…” Judas rolled a snooker ball across the table in the direction of Fergus. It hit the edge with a dull thud. “If I’d brought any money with me, I’d have put a wager on the game. But then I never really carry much usually.”

  “Queen.” Fergus muttered under his breath.

  “Excuse me?” Judas grinned and put on an expression of mock hurt, the spread fingers of one hand placed lightly on his chest.

  “Like the Queen.” Fergus smiled back at him. “Her Majesty never carries any dosh.

  Or so I have heard.”

  “Really?” Judas rolled another snooker ball across the table. “Well aren’t you the knowledgeable one. All I know about the dear monarch is…she makes me smile when I see her wrinkly old mugshot on a pile of lovely readies.”

  The other men laughed and Fergus nodded. “Aw, Jude. I was having so much fun I totally forgot the real reason for your visit.” He walked over to the wall and began to open a safe, much like the one that was back in the office at the Flying Garter.

  “That’s very sweet.” Judas approached him. His eyes widened as the metal door swung open with a creak to reveal the loot filled bags from the robbery within.

  “Beautiful.”

  The sighed word was heartfelt and genuine, two attributes seldom used in reference to Judas.

  Fergus nodded. “Yes, I have to say that I agree with you on this.” He pulled the bags out of the safe and sat them on the table. The other men milled over to join them.

  They all stood around the large green rectangle and gazed at the garish contrast of the red bank bags piled in an ungainly heap, reminiscent of a Tracy Emin. None of them said anything until Fergus spoke. “Very convenient. Five of us and five bags. I say we each take one.”

  “That’s a shite idea.” Judas pursed his lips. “We do this proper.”

  “Jude.” Fergus shook his head. “You and me, we have been on many jobs together.

  Some legendary I would say. Some I like to remember fondly even. Like the time we hijacked the brewery truck.”

  Judas laughed. “Naw…aren’t you the sentimental one. I would have never have given you credit. Yes, Fergie. Great days. We were young and had a whole truck of booze at our disposal. Until your da made us sell it off. See? We did the job then we got a cut for it. Done proper by Big Callum himself, whose ass had never left his chair, but he still got his whack.”

  Fergus nodded. “The point of my story was not to get you all soppy eyed with memories, my friend.” He patted Judas roughly on the cheek. “But there are some jobs I like to remember and some I like to forget. I’d like to forget this one and cannot be arsed sitting about counting money with you fucks all standing about watching like vultures.”

  “Not very professional.” Judas smiled.

  “Bite me.” Fergus smiled back.

  “Well say we did it your way. How do we know that they all contain the same amount of money?” Judas lifted two bags and held one in each hand apparently to check they weighed the same.

  “Well does it matter?” Fergus lifted a bag too. “There will be a decent few grand in each I reckon. You really want me to count it out?”

  “Yeah.” Judas dropped the bags again. “Yeah course I do and course it fucking matters. Equal cuts.”

  “We never agreed on equal.” Fergus tossed the bag he held back on the table again.

  “My share was to be bigger, as was yours. It was my job and you insisted as usual that you got more as you are a greedy little cunt. I’m happy to take a bag just like the rest of you. You take a bag and whatever you get you get. Seems fair to me. Just put an end to this whole fucking thing.”

  Judas looked over the bags again and had started to reach for one that he had gauged to be the biggest when Ewan stopped him by laying a hand gently on his arm.

  “There were six bags.” He spoke quietly as he looked Fergus directly in the eye.

  “There were five…” Fergus stared back at him. “They went straight in that safe and no one has touched them since. Only I know the combination.”

  Ewan looked across at Vinny. “Vinny. How many bags were there?”

  Vinny looked as though he considered the issue for a moment and then he nodded.

  “Six, I think?”

  “There were definitely six.” Ewan said more firmly this time. “I remember tying them together. I chucked two over each shoulder and Vinny had two in his hands.”

  Judas angled his head cockily. He placed his hands on his hips and stood up straighter. “Well who is the greedy little cunt now?” He raised his eyebrows and appeared amused. “And there is you being all the magnanimous one saying you’d take equal. You are a naughty boy now aren’t you?”

  “Don’t use big words, Jude. Simplicity suits you more.” Fergus reached into the safe.

  The others looked over as though expecting him to produce the other bag but instead he brought out a gun. Judas reached casually into his jacket and pulled out one too, his being slightly smaller but having an elegantly shaped ivory handle.

  “I was going to leave this at home. I am too fucking trusting. It will be my downfall.” He pointed the firearm at Fergus who pointed his at Judas in return. “Okay, baby. If this is how you want it…”

  Judas rested his finger lightly on the trigger, then a sharp click caused him to look slightly to the side.

  Rasputin also pointed a gun, and directly at Judas.

  “Aw guys come on…fuck this, eh?” Vinny shook his head and approached Judas.

  He pulled him by the arm but Judas resisted and shook him off, his aim on Fergus steady. “Do we need to do it like this? Come on guys. There’s been enough fucking nonsense over this robbery. Fuck man it’s enough to turn me straight!”

  “Oh you can’t even think straight.” Judas kept his eyes on Fergus and his laughter at his own joke echoed around the basement.

  Ewan lifted a snooker cue and stared solidly at Rasputin.

  Fergus let out a laugh too and lowered his gun. “Okay, Jude. Put down your pretty little toy and we can discuss this like men.” He glanced at Rasputin and nodded.

  Raspu
tin lowered his weapon too.

  Judas smiled and slipped the gun back into his jacket pocket again. “So what do you suggest, Fergie?” Judas raised an eyebrow. “We are a bag short. Someone in this room has tried to shaft the rest of us, and not in a good way. Now we all know that it couldn’t have been me.” He looked around at the others slowly. “So which one of you bastards was it?”

  Chapter Three

  A few weeks had passed since the revelation in the cellar and it seemed that everyone was busy with some plan or another based on the events of that night. Fergus had set his mind to find out if there ever really had been six bags taken at the robbery and Judas, convinced that there were, resolved to make everyone’s lives hell until he found out who had taken the missing bag. Vinny and Ewan now pledged a firm allegiance to Judas. They vowed to never again work for Fergus.

  The split between the formerly inseparable band of crooks had serious ramifications for the criminal underworld and their sometimes reluctant “clients”. People, who had formerly dealt with Judas in his capacity as debt collector, protection facilitator and whatever else for the Campbells, now found themselves in the confusing situation of sometimes being asked to pay twice for the one job. Judas still worked the same patches as before, but he was doing it all for himself. So no sooner had the takeaway guy paid the flamboyant chancer so that his windows wouldn’t be put in and his premises firebombed, than Rasputin would turn up looking to be paid for the same service. Of course it wasn’t really a service. You were paying the hoods to protect you from, well, the hoods. Rasputin was no genius and he mostly put down the fact that folk were not so keen on paying him to some kind of revolution amongst the small business community. He had a grudging admiration for the stance but even so, some poor saps had their places gutted even though they had come across with the readies in order to avoid that.

  The Campbells had shifted their emphasis from this low level part of their enterprise a long time since and had switched their attentions more to the supply of recreational drugs and the deceptively clean sounding activity of money laundering.

  Judas taking the protection pay offs would barely have been noticed, but when he took the payments for drugs that he had no hand in supplying in the first place, he was playing a very risky game. But then, Judas really had always been cock of the walk.

  Hugo had been equally productive with the time. He intended to cultivate some camaraderie with the style challenged slut that had been fucking his husband.

  *

  The shops in Everdirge were mostly a pointless collection of twenty-four hour convenience markets, interspersed with the odd charity outlet. Why anyone would choose to buy second hand clothes from a population that seemed to live mostly in rags was a mystery, but the little stores bravely opened their doors anyway, with a hope that could only be matched by that of gambler clutching the ticket for a final bet. Not even the sunshine could make this village any less dreary. Summer was wasted on its grey streets and even greyer people. There were no groups of interesting teenagers hanging about the corners of this candidate for the notorious Carbuncle award. No punk rockers or goths. No fifties throwbacks. If people wore anything from the fifties here, they’d likely bought it in that particular decade of the last century, and had been too poor to replace it.

  Mikhail Majewski stood out like a sore thumb. But an attractive and fetchingly attired sore thumb, nevertheless.

  He had stopped outside the Seamen’s Mission shop, or the “semen emission” as it was known locally after someone had vandalised the sign. Nothing would ever tempt Mikhail into this breeding ground for fleas and skin disorders, but he glanced into one of the windows anyway, having little else to do with his time. Sacha, a popular courtesan and essentially Mikhail’s assistant, had become more and more capable of running the brothel on his own that Mikhail was able to take the odd day off here and there. Mikhail obviously enjoyed the freedom, content in the knowledge that his business was in safe hands, but he did sometimes find himself at a loose end. If Fergus had not been busy then Mikhail would have spent the hours with him. But he’d had some matter to attend to and would be occupied most of the day with it. Mikhail didn’t pry into Fergus’s affairs and simply accepted this as fact. No doubt a lot of Fergus’s activities would seem distasteful to him and perhaps knowing too much detail would make one an accomplice in the eyes of the police. Not that he ever had much bother with the boys in blue. Bribery and buggery were useful treats to tempt a copper’s mind away from any thoughts of a dawn raid.

  “Mikhail?” A voice came from behind Mikhail and he turned with a smile. This instantly fell from his lips however, when he saw Hugo standing there.

  Hugo, or the black widow as the courtesans at Mikhail’s brothel had dubbed him, stood resplendent in a long black coat, his eyes covered by dark Jackie O style sunglasses. He wore quite fascist looking boots. Leather, gleaming and entirely inappropriate for the weather.

  “Why, Hugo.” Mikhail steeled himself and extended a slightly quivering hand for a weak handshake. “What brings you here to the village?”

  “Oh, just boredom.” Hugo replied. “I wasn’t following you or anything.”

  “Why ever would I have assumed that?” Mikhail wrinkled his brow nervously.

  What a strange thing to say. But then, everything about Hugo was strange.

  Hugo laughed. “I am just having a little joke with you. You know I always admired your sense of style. I had no idea that this is where you shopped.” He gestured to the collection of junk in the window of the store. “How clever of you. You must save yourself a fortune.”

  Mikhail’s feeling of fear was now replaced by one of insult. He was nothing if not immaculate and the very idea that he would dress in anyone’s cast offs was an abhorrent one. “I would never dream of—“

  “Oh, you!” Hugo slapped him playfully on the arm. “The look on your face. Do forgive me. It was another little one of my jokes. But really, I am glad that I ran into you like this. I wanted to thank you for what you did for me.”

  Mikhail shook his head. “I did nothing, Hugo. You have no reason to feel beholden to me.”

  Hugo seemed to stiffen, then smiled again. “You are wrong. I am certain that Fergus would have found some way to blame me over what happened with Mr MacGregor. You made it so much easier for me and I will always be grateful to you for that. You are a good man.”

  Mikhail felt lousy, and this had nothing to do with the infested clothing for sale in the window behind him. He prided himself on the fact that all he owned and wore was new, but was the man he loved not a cast off of sorts? Well not really, he supposed. It was obvious that Hugo was not yet done with Fergus. “Think nothing of it.” He tried to appear pleasant. This became more difficult though when Hugo linked arms with him.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could be friends, Mikhail?” Hugo squeezed Mikhail’s arm and began to walk with him. “Fergus obviously adores you and I am sure that it would make him happy if we got on better.”

  “I am not so certain,” Mikhail walked too, although not entirely sure where they were headed. “Mr Campbell and I rarely see each other.”

  “Really?” Hugo turned his face to the sun for a moment, and then looked back at Mikhail. “Well I still think it would be nice. The only thing is, Fergus can be very possessive about who I see and where I go. It would be hard for me to have a friend at all under those circumstances.”

  Mikhail nodded. He suddenly felt sad. The young man, who still clung to his arm, did have a point there. Hugo’s situation with regards to Fergus was no secret. Perhaps it was treated as a joke to some, but likely not to Hugo. “You have no friends then, Hugo?” Mikhail asked as they approached a small coffee shop that seemed to have sprung up in recent weeks as Mikhail didn’t recall ever having seen it before. It would fail. The people in Everdirge had no time for such niceties. A betting shop would have fared far better. The only reason Mikhail’s brothel did so well was because people actually travelled for miles
to go there. And of course Judas MacGregor’s patronage alone would have been enough for Mikhail to sustain a modest living.

  “No.” Hugo shook his head. “I never felt that I needed any. Now, however, I think it would be good for me to get out more. Fergus is away a lot and when I’m alone, I get tempted to…well never mind.”

  Mikhail knew Hugo referred to the lure of the bottle. Boredom was not a good thing when one was dependant on alcohol. “It is a shame that Fergus would not trust you to have someone to socialise with.”

  Hugo nodded. He let go of Mikhail’s arm and smiled at him. “Well, does he really have to know?” This seemed to amuse Hugo, the thought of carrying on a friendship with Mikhail behind Fergus’s back. Mikhail felt torn. Deep in his heart he knew it would help Hugo to get out of the house more, but with the man who was having an affair with his husband? This was wrong on so many levels.

  Sadness crept over Hugo’s face. He looked down at the ground, his arms now loosely by his sides. “I was being a fool.” He sighed. “Why would someone as beautiful and interesting as you want to be friends with a pointless waste of space such as me? I understand, Mikhail. Please forget that I asked.”

  If possible, Mikhail felt even more wretched. He shook his head fervently. “Don’t say such things about yourself!” As was always the way, Mikhail felt compelled to please the young man. This desire to satisfy the needs of anyone who crossed Mikhail’s path was something that he could never fight, not that he had ever tried to. If a person required something, and it was in Mikhail’s power to give it, he always did. “We can try if you like. We can try to be friends.”

  Mikhail heard himself say the words and at the same time imagined the look of horror on Fergus’s face if he ever found out. But what could he do? Hugo was truly such a pathetic creature. It was difficult to turn one’s back on someone so clearly in need.

  Hugo’s eyes widened and the smile on his lips looked bright and delighted. “Oh, Mikhail! I can see why Fergus likes you so much!” Hugo linked his arm with Mikhail’s once more. “But for now it can be our secret, okay? There is no point in bothering Fergus with this. He gets upset very easily.”