BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Last time you made a lot of noise with what you got from me. Seems you’re a bit of a liability. You get caught, the attention on you bleeds outwards. The filth will want to know everything about you — who you are, what you have, what you fired and, most importantly for me, who the fuck you got the cannon from.’

  ‘Tommy, spare me the lecture. I had it last time.’

  ‘Sure you did, everyone does. It just seems that you didn’t listen to me last time. You got lucky then. The cops fingered someone else for the jobs and you got to walk off into the sunset. I thought that was the end of you around here.

  ‘You should be so lucky!’

  ‘The Russian wanted you gone. He told you that and he told me that too.’

  ‘I told him I had a job to do. I told him once it was done, I would go. It’s not done yet.’

  ‘What was it? Six coppers dead and a seventh doing the time for all of them? I’d say that was job done. Job well-fucking-done.’

  ‘There’s an opportunity. It’s too good to miss!’ Kane gave a series of rapid sniffs.

  ‘What opportunity?’

  ‘Lennokshire’s biggest — the big chief.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s sticking his head above the parapet in Langthorne, later this afternoon.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘What do you mean, so? I want to shoot that head off, Tommy, like at a fucking funfair. He’s the big man, the top dog. I take him out, that organisation falls to its knees. That’s exactly where they had me, Tommy, on my fucking knees. Eye for an eye, and all that. And it keeps them scared, see, ’cause they think it’s over. They think that the big bad wolf’s been caged so they can walk back out into the sunlight.’

  Tommy Cotter was shaking his head. ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Dead serious.’

  ‘Why the fuck do it? I remember your whiney fucking story, the whole thing with the copper who stitched up your brother as a nonce so he hung himself. Your mum bit it too, couldn’t cope with the shame. I sucked it all up and you had your chance for your sweet revenge and, fuck me, did you get it! I mean, it was beautiful. I’d take my hat off to you if I was wearing the fucker but this, this is stupid, man. Now fuck off, Kane, before I start believing you might actually give it a go. And don’t you ever come here again high on coke and talking to me about business. This ain’t how I operate, do you understand me?’ Tommy Cotter’s voice boomed out across his glass table and filled the space.

  Kane took in Tommy’s stern expression and looked aside, at the white walls, broken up by pieces of art in varying stages of completion. Tommy thought he was some sort of modern artist, and he took his work seriously. He was probably good. But he wasn’t just that. He was also capable of cold and extreme violence and he possessed all the tools needed to carry it out.

  Kane had never been good with his temper. He’d known it long before he had been diagnosed with mental health issues. Kane hadn’t bothered with the medication, he’d always considered his temper to be an asset. When he lost it, he got his way, so why control it? But he had learned just enough to be able to hold himself back occasionally. He took a breath. Then he said, ‘I have money.’

  ‘Money is no good to me behind bars.’

  ‘There’s never any link to you, Tommy. The guns are clean, there’s no connection.’

  ‘There’s you.’

  ‘You think I’d talk about you? I know better.’

  ‘You know nothing. The people I deal with all stand to lose something that’s more important than their freedom — something they can’t let go of. So when they’re sat in front of some slimy detective being offered a fag and a free ride home, they know that their freedom won’t be worth having if I take that something away from them. Most of the time it’s their family, their kids. It could be their life savings, their career or their reputation, whatever. You’re a bit different, Kane. The only thing you’ve got worth having is your freedom. There’s nothing I can take from you that hasn’t been taken already. Not only does that mean I don’t have any control over you, it also means that you don’t either.’

  Kane sniffed. ‘You know you can trust me. I never let you down last time, did I? I’m still the same man as I was then.’

  ‘You’re not, Kane. Look at you. You turn up on the very day you wanna take out one of the most senior coppers in the country, with coke all round your nostrils, tweaking out of your mind. When did you even decide to do it? This morning? The last time you walked through that door you were being backed by the Russian. I know for certain that he wouldn’t be endorsing you on this.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because of all the reasons I just said. Because it’s idiotic, and because he’s still pissed with you. The man you set up to be nicked was supposed to die. I know you wanted the filth to be pulling the trigger, but that didn’t happen and he’s still breathing. And if he’s breathing he can talk.’

  ‘But I have the thing he couldn’t stand to lose,’ Kane said, smiling broadly and making gun shapes with both his hands, ‘which means I have total control. Maybe I have learned a little something from you.’

  Tommy shook his head. ‘My answer’s the same. You did a job and you did it well. If you had any sense you would be long gone by now, counting your blessings. To even be here in Langthorne is beyond stupid. You will get caught, or, if I’m lucky, you’ll get dead. The way my luck is going at the moment you’ll just get caught. And then I’ll have to kill you myself.’

  Kane’s mood darkened again. ‘You’re not the only man who can make this possible.’

  ‘I’m the only man who won’t shoot you in the face the minute you ask. By all means, do me a favour and go ask someone else. Now fuck off before I decide I should shoot you.’

  Kane met Tommy’s gaze. He licked his lips. Then, without another word, he turned and made his way out.

  * * *

  Tommy watched his progress on the monitors on his wall.

  Jixy was sitting on a high stool, still inspecting her cheek. Kane swung his fist and Jixy took the blow full in the face. She fell backwards onto the laminate floor.

  Tommy got to his feet as Kane Forley left the building. He kept his eyes on the monitor as he scrabbled on his desk for his mobile phone.

  CHAPTER 15

  The weapon clicked. Tony squeezed his eyelids tighter and jerked back. There was another click.

  ‘What the fuck?’ John sounded confused. He pulled the trigger again, then turned towards Lee and Ed.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ he said.

  Ed Kavski didn’t reply. He lifted his own weapon and pointed it at John’s head. John started to say something as Ed fired. The bullet entered his skull and came spiralling out of the back of his head. Tony was splattered in warm blood and bits of brain and skull. John fell, dead before he hit the floor.

  ‘Jesus! Fuck!’ Tony shouted. The gathered men watched him as he leaned over to the right, away from John, who was slumped against the chair. He vomited.

  Lee Chivers snorted, then he stepped forward and punched Tony, hard, in the mouth. The blow loosened teeth, and Tony’s head hit the back of the chair. Lee brought his knee up into Tony’s chest and the chair rocked backwards, onto the two back legs. It toppled, hitting the concrete floor hard. The wooden spindle was forced hard into his back, pushing the air out of his lungs.

  Tony gasped for air, his mouth opened and closed like a landed fish. He tried to concentrate. He’d had the wind knocked out of him enough times to know what to do, but the position of his hands was further restricting his recovery. He focused on the high ceiling above him. Slowly the oxygen seeped back in.

  Lee Chivers crouched at his side. ‘So, Tony, this is the position we find ourselves in. You all tied up and beaten up on the floor, your boyfriend over there dead as a fucking dodo. Maybe this will convince you to talk to us about your little discussion with the filth.’

  A baseball bat. It hovered above Tony’s head, the end almos
t brushing his forehead. It was weathered, well used. Tony’s eyes followed it as it swung back and forth.

  Lee jerked the bat backwards and the heavy end made contact with Tony’s side and the wooden arm of the chair. Tony had seen it coming and had twisted his body away from the blow as best he could. He still got a painful blow to his left hip, but the chair took the main hit and rolled sideways.

  Lee circled Tony, a beast playing with his prey. He kicked out into Tony’s midriff and Tony’s lungs were again sucked empty. He was still on his side. Saliva leaked from the side of his mouth onto the cold, grey concrete. He kept his eyes tightly shut.

  Ed Kavski’s phone burst into sound in his pocket and he pulled it out, turning away to look at the screen.

  ‘What the fuck?’ He looked at Lee. ‘Cotter. He don’t phone for nowt.’

  Lee shrugged. ‘Call the fat fuck back.’

  ‘Two minutes. Carry on with your conversation.’

  Ed turned away and Lee glared at his back, his jaw tensed. He turned to Tony, who was staring right back at him.

  The other man turned his attention to the ringing phone. Tony hadn’t had long, but it was just long enough to take advantage of the distraction. When he’d fallen, the wooden strut running up the back of the chair had cracked, and he was now able to move his wrists. He tensed his shoulders and pulled his arms up. The wooden strut came away near the bottom. The spindle was shattered right through, leaving a sharp break and he took the top piece in both hands. He twisted it so the sharp, splintered edge dug into the tape stretched tightly between his wrists. He felt the tip of the spindle puncture the tape, but only slightly, nowhere near enough to be able to separate his hands. He would need a lot more time.

  Tony offered up a faint smile. He hoped to get the man talking again, anything to delay him.

  Ed swore loudly, distracting Lee.

  ‘You’re fucking joking!’ Ed shouted. ‘When was this?’ He let out a sigh that became a groan. ‘What else did he tell you? Anything else about what the fuckwit wants to do? The man’s a fucking lunatic. He’ll fuck everything up. I told him to stay away.’

  Lee kept his eyes on his boss.

  ‘You done with me now?’ Tony called out. He was ready.

  Lee moved his head slightly.

  ‘I said, are you done with me, you ugly piece of shit? Is that all you fucking got, brave boy?’

  Ed ended his call and spoke direct to Lee. ‘I’ve gotta go. There’s something I need to sort out. Get this done and then call me, we’ll meet up. You’re gonna be needed too.’

  ‘You don’t want to see how this ends?’ Lee gestured at Tony with the baseball bat.

  ‘I know how it ends. Just make sure it’s cleaned up.’

  Ed walked away, his phone in his hand.

  Tony waited for him to leave and looked up at Lee, who shrugged.

  ‘Just you, me and Poland then.’ Lee gestured at the man still standing in the background. ‘Old Poland don’t say much — he still can’t speak the lingo.’

  Tony continued to watch Lee. He’d met plenty of people like him. He had seen a man build up to a fight so well that he’d won it before a single blow was landed. ‘The show before the show,’ Tony’s trainer had called it. He’d described how a clever opponent could get into your head, fill you with doubt. It never worked with Tony, he would use it to fuel his anger.

  ‘How about you let me out of this chair and chuck that bat away, boy? Even it up a bit, just you and me, and we’ll see if you’re still smiling then. That’s what men do.’

  Lee’s grin widened. ‘Why the fuck would I want to do that? We’re not here for a dick swinging competition. You need to talk to me about what you said to the pigs, and then I need to decide what I do with you when you’ve told me. It’s as simple as that, Tony.’

  ‘We’re done with that now. I’ve told you what happened, so you let me up and we’ll have a conversation about where we go from here.’

  ‘Seems to me we’re far from done. John was a good man, he was loyal, but he was fucking stupid. People took him in too easy, he was a sucker, especially for a sob story about some sick kid. But he didn’t think about the damage to us. You saw what happened to him. What do you think we’ll do to someone that’s been talking to the coppers? Someone who’s struck a deal to save their own skin and needs to report back to them?’

  ‘I’ve told you that’s bullshit.’

  ‘And we’ve told you why it ain’t. You haven’t said a single word that explains to me why they’d just let you go. With what they found on you, they should be sticking you behind the door for a fucking decade. Yet here you are, Tony. Here we are.’ Lee’s grip on the bat tightened.

  ‘I can’t tell you any more than I have, so you’d best do what you got to do.’

  Lee smiled. ‘It’s gonna make a mess, Tony. You sure you don’t want to just skip that bit and give me a different answer?’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  Lee’s smile disappeared.

  Tony’s cheek still rested on the floor but he moved his eyes and his shoulders tensed in readiness. The Polish man stepped in closer. Lee had the bat in both hands. A baseball bat is a clumsy weapon, you need to take a long swing. Tony saw Lee’s arms coming down in a long arc. It gave Tony enough time to make his move.

  Tony pulled out his freed-up arms and wrapped them round the Polish man’s legs. He pulled with all his strength, catching the man by surprise. The Polish guy fell onto Tony, shielding him from the strike. The Polish man took its force in his forearm, a bone cracked audibly and he collapsed over the upturned chair. Lee immediately looked to swing again. Tony reached out and took hold of the thick end of the bat. He wrenched it with all his strength, and it came free from Lee’s hands. But the smooth metal slipped out of his grip and the bat spun over his head and slid away on the concrete floor.

  Lee froze for a split second, but then swung hard with his right boot. Tony shot his arms out to absorb the kick and grabbed hold of Lee’s foot. He jabbed hard at the pressure point in Lee’s calf and Lee grunted in pain, he tried to pull away and was caught off balance. Tony did what all good wrestlers looked to do, he took the fight to the floor.

  Lee immediately tried to get back to his knees but Tony took a firm grip round his opponent’s throat, he squeezed hard. Lee’s struggles were becoming weaker and weaker. His eyes bulged, and his face turned a dark purple.

  Tony had forgotten about the Polish man until he felt the first blow strike the side of his head. Tony didn’t immediately break off his grip on Lee, he wanted the bastard unconscious at least, but at the second hit he let go of Lee’s scrawny neck and pushed him backwards. Lee arched his back and clawed at his neck, his breathing loud and laboured. Tony knew he would recover quickly but he had to deal with the immediate threat first.

  The blows coming at him were slow and deliberate as the Polish man only had the use of his weaker arm. The injured arm hung limp and Tony grabbed hold of it and pulled, it caused him to yelp in pain but he didn’t have the angle to pull him off his feet.

  Lee thrashed around a bit and then got control of his breathing as he started to recover. Tony needed to deal with the Polish man quickly.

  Tony’s left hand slid behind the Polish man’s neck. He moved his right hand behind his back and felt for the broken spindle. He pulled it out and thrust the sharp end upwards into the Polish man’s neck, just above the Adam’s apple. It went deep. The man rose to his feet, taking the spike with him, embedded in his neck. Tony let go and hot blood rained down on him, forcing his eyes to shut. The Polish man went to the floor in stages, the threat from him was neutralised. Tony turned his attention back to where Lee had been fighting for breath. But Lee was gone.

  Tony rocked and twisted his body in an attempt to see all around him. No Lee, but Tony couldn’t see behind him. He tried to free himself from the chair, running his fingers over the tape round his ankles, feeling for an edge to grasp and unwind it.

  He heard the scraping of metal
some distance behind him. Someone was picking the bat up off the floor. Tony fumbled with the plastic. He still couldn’t feel an edge and he couldn’t see the tape. Tony heard the bat hit the floor with a clang.

  A scraping sound, then another metallic clang. Closer, another step and another clang. Lee was taking his time getting back.

  Tony tried to breathe slowly, as he had been trained, but he flinched at each clang. His eyes stung from the blood, his vision impaired, it had made his hands slick too. At last he felt a raised piece of the tape.

  The bat struck the floor again. It scraped back off the floor, it was closer and closer.

  Tony now had the tape between finger and thumb. It started to peel away. He was careful not to let it fall from his grasp. He tugged it a little looser, and at last it started to come free. Tony was bent double, straining to free himself, his ankles started to feel a little looser. He needed more time.

  The bat fell hard onto the ground. Tony felt the gravel roll against his head where it had been disturbed. Lee Chivers was upon him.

  Tony was still groping round his feet. The last layer came away. He pulled his legs up towards his chest and grimaced as the tape tore the hairs from his skin. His left foot wriggled free and he kicked away the tape that was still around his other ankle. In a few seconds he would be free.

  He heard the bat scrape as the hitting end was picked up off the floor. Tony’s feet were finally free. He took his weight with his left hand, turned his head to see where Lee was. Just in time to see the glinting metal of the bat swinging down through the air, Lee’s bulging eyes full of hate beyond it. For Tony the world suddenly went black.

  * * *

  His chest rising and falling from the exertion, Lee took in what he had done. He didn’t know how many times he had struck the man at his feet, but it was enough. He was gone. Lee stepped back to take in the mess in front of him. He looked over to the fallen Polish man with the wooden spindle still sticking out from his neck and also over at John, and his opaque dead eyes. Lee wiped his sleeve across where blood had reached up to his face and took a deep breath.