‘Look at the layers of soil,’ he says, ‘the different colours and shades. You know what that is, don’t you, it’s history. See that man down there–’ There’s a geezer in a short-sleeve shirt, wellies and tweed deerstalker hat ‘– He could actually point out all the different periods of time, from the Romans, the Vikings, medieval times and right up to the time when they put up the building we knocked down.’
‘Where are we?’ I ask.
‘Course, you don’t know, do you. The City of London, about fifty yards from the Thames. The Romans built a harbour here. In those times this was an inlet right on the river.’
His voice is quiet and clipped like he’s had elocution lessons somewhere along the line. Rover Rummages Round Rough Rambles. He sounds like a swell doing an impression of a chap from the lower order but, make no mistake, this guy, Eddy Ryder, could hold his own anywhere, from the boozer on the manor to the charity ball. The man in the deerstalker spots us and waves up. Eddy gives him a salute and a big smile.
‘Wanker,’ he says to himself. ‘Total wanker.’
He has the delivery of a droll northern comic.
‘See him, son. Complete authority on life in medieval times. Ask him anything about it and he can talk for hours; ask him the ingredients of an omelette and he’s baffled. The Corporation of London asked me to give this mob some time. I said I would, of course, because if I don’t they come back with a court order. A site of historical value, they call it. Fifty-three grand a day, it’s costing me and my partners, so I can’t afford to get too Buddhist about it. I want them gone so I can throw up my office block, twenty-seven storeys. Beautiful, it’s going to be.’
‘When this lot get finished?’ I say.
‘If they ever do. They just told the Corporation that they need another two weeks.’
‘You couldn’t just say you need to move on?’
‘And look like a vandal, a total philistine? I just have to be gracious, pretend like I’m really interested in what they dig up and come and show me, bits of old piss-pot and sheep bone. I had the Lord Mayor of London here the other day, standing exactly where you’re standing now, chain of office and everything. We had our picture taken for the papers. I’m smiling, but in reality I want to aim him down the hole, stuck-up little cunt. And now they want another two weeks . . . Do you know who I am, son?’ asks Eddy Ryder, turning to me.
‘You’re Jimmy Price’s mate Eddy Ryder.’
‘He told you that?’ He laughs gently.
‘Yeah.’ But something says that ain’t the way he sees it.
‘He also told you to find my daughter Charlotte? Why?’
‘Mister Ryder, I’ve just realised I’ve been mugged by Mister Price.’
‘But why? You haven’t answered my question.’
I tell him what Jimmy Price told me on Saturday at Pepi’s Barn. No point trying to be too cute.
‘See Mister Troop over there.’ He points with his eyebrows. ‘He could find anyone in ten minutes.’
‘So you don’t want her found.’
‘Not by you, son. I know where she is day and night if I want. You’ve been had over by Mister Price. I think we all have at some point, it’s part of growing up. Maybe I owe you an apology.’
‘For what?’
‘I believe you were manhandled rather harshly earlier by Mister Troop, but I believe you’re a cocaine dealer. Some dealers have been known to be a bit too free with submachine guns. Apparently you’re a lover not a fighter.’
‘Why does that geezer call everyone “troop”?’
‘Old regiment thing, I believe,’ whispers Eddy.
‘What, SAS and that?’
He shakes his head but motions me closer with his finger. ‘They think the SAS are a bit high-profile. His lot, I don’t think they officially exist, Minister of Defence doesn’t know about them even in wartime. He talks Russian, Gaelic and Arabic. Oh, by the way,’ says Eddy like something’s suddenly occurred to him, ‘your two friends were picked up in Brighton at the same time as you. They were in a dealer’s house up in Seven Dials asking lots of questions, pretending to be police officers. Two men who work for me impersonated police officers and arrested them. Ironic, really. Mister Troop wanted to plant heroin in their hotel room, enough for a charge of intent to supply . . .’
Handy with a bitta brown, are ya, Mister Troop? You’ve only got to take one look at his eyes to know he’s perfectly capable of entering a premises, giving an already-gouged-out semi-conscious smackhead a hot-shot. The Saff London kid was right all along, someone did sort out Kinky for taking the bung and still wanting the prize.
‘. . . but why make enemies, I said.’
‘So why did Jimmy tell me to find your daughter, Mister Ryder?’ I ask.
‘Please call me Eddy. I thought you might be some urchin Jimmy had doing his dirty work but I can see you’re a talented individual.’
I’m gonna have ‘Beware Flattery’ tattooed on my forehead. ‘Thank you, Eddy. But why?’
‘To hold as ransom. You’re in trouble but not with me. I’m gonna mark your card for you. I’ve known Jimmy Price for thirty-five years. They don’t give you that for murder. All that nonsense he told you is true to an extent, we did do a bit of junior time together but I always wanted away. Dewey, who you wouldn’t remember, before your time, a real gentleman, he used to take me aside and tell me to get out, get far away. He used to say, “Jimmy’s a crook but you could be a criminal.’”
‘What did he mean by that?’
‘Dewey used to talk in riddles after a few drinks,’ he laughs. ‘I always took it to mean get out before Jimmy and that whole scene drags you down. I keep Jimmy where I can keep an eye on him. I learnt that off Dewey. He was a class act, shrewd, charming. You could walk into the pub that Dewey owned back in the early seventies and there would be senior police officers and villains all having a light ale.’
‘And what was Jimmy doin the whole time?’
‘Crawling up Dewey’s arse. But Jimmy is not the same man Dewey was. He tries to emulate him, even down to buying Dewey’s house when he died. Have you ever been there?’
‘I only shift goods for Jimmy. We don’t socialise.’
‘You aren’t a bad judge. The High Trees, out in Totteridge, beautiful house it was till Jimmy got his hands on it and started decorating like it was a whorehouse, like some two-bob gangster Gracelands. I’ve been there and he’s just made a mess.’
‘I don’t wanna rush ya, but why am I in trouble?’
‘I’m telling you. I believe you to be a sensible young man. I’m building an office block on this site when this circus clears out. The main investors are Russians.’
‘Mafia?’
‘Fucking hell, son. Where are your manners? You, like a lot of people, jump to the conclusion that just because these gentlemen are Russian they must be an organised crime organisation. A lot of this outfit were in the KGB, they’re class, but a lot of people will tell you that the KGB and the Mafia are one and the same. As far as I’m concerned their money is as good as anyone’s.’
Course it is, after it’s been spun a few times by one Edward Ryder. I’ll take that as an affirmative on the Mafioski connection. ‘I’m sorry about that. Don’t know what come over me.’
‘These Russians are Muscovites, sophisticated, really, but Russia, the old Soviet Russia, is a huge place. A lot of their countrymen don’t move with the same dignity. The Muscovites bring with them a lot of remoras.’
‘Is that another republic?’
‘No, no. A remora is an opportunist fish that swims with sharks. Here –’ He points to the back of his neck ‘– the shark can’t get at them or get rid of them. These remoras live in the slip-stream and benefit from the shark’s protection but they are in reality scavengers, on the look-out for tit-bits of carcasses. The shark becomes used to them.’
Eddy refers to his partners as sharks.
‘So who did the Muscovites bring?’
‘Chechens. And
they really are trouble. There’s no love lost between the two camps either.’
‘I think I’ve heard of them.’
‘You may have done. Chechnya is a small but very dangerous province, an outpost, really. They wanted independence from Moscow so they fought a guerrilla war. The Russian Army, what was the mighty Red Army, went in, got a beating, so they put the place back into the Stone Age but they took a lot of casualties themselves.’
‘So they’re heavy?’
‘Very heavy, like you wouldn’t want to know how heavy. They’d break the ice on a frozen lake, throw some poor bastard in and stand around drinking vodka, smoking and laughing whilst he freezes to death. Ruthless, callous with it, but cunning, that’s their mentality. The other outfits in Russia all steer clear of them because they know what they’re like. Chechnya is like Russia’s Sicily only ten times worse.’
‘And they fired into you?’
‘Well, they tried, but in this world there’s no such thing as easy money. They entice and if one is too greedy, or not strong, they snare you. At first it’s easy money but soon there’s no walking away, not without . . .’ Eddy draws his finger across his neck. ‘The Muscovites explained to me that these people were without honour, could not be trusted, but if I wanted to do business with the Chechens I could, but they would cease to bring their business to me. I don’t like an ultimatum but you can’t have it all ways, can you?’
‘So they went away?’ I ask.
‘Oh no. No way,’ says Edward. ‘They found someone else.’
‘Who? Where?’
‘Well, I throw a garden party every year, quite a date in the social calendar, though I say it myself. I always invite Jimmy because if I don’t there’s a fuss and also, to my shame, some of my friends are amused by his antics.’
‘I can imagine Jimmy and his pretensions goin down well among the blue-bloods.’
‘But I’ve come unstuck with my little attempt to provide cabaret for my chums. There’s a lesson to be learnt here. Dewey always told me to learn from my mistakes.’
‘Like how unstuck?’
‘Jimmy made the acquaintance of the remora fish, three very charming gentlemen from Grozny, the capital of . . .’
‘Chechnya?’ I ask.
‘Right.’
‘Problems?’ I ask, knowing the answer.
‘Not many,’ says Eddy, rolling his eyes.
Get the Atlas Out
‘Jimmy couldn’t even find Chechnya on the map. Gene the Hammerhead knew the score and told him to avoid them. I’ll never know why Gene didn’t just put one in Jimmy’s nut the day after Dewey’s funeral and start running things himself. Nobody would have said fuck all, not the Clarks or the Archers or anyone come to that. You know what happens to these backyard Don-types, don’t you? They start to think they’re what’s called omnipotent, all powerful, God-like, and maybe in their own little world they are.’
I’m nodding in agreement but I’m also thinking that it would have kinda suited Eddy if the Chechens and Jimmy had got loved-up. It would take the dairy, the attention, away from him and the Moscow firm. It would have allowed him plenty of elbow room to shovel the bag-washed dollars, marks and pounds down his big old hole.
‘Jimmy’s telling me that I’ve gone soft, been around the good gentlefolk too long, but I’m telling him that these fuckers don’t give a fuck if you are a big Charlie-new-potatoes gangster in London, these guys have taken on Hitler and Stalin. Where are those two loony-tunes now?’
‘He wouldn’t have it.’
‘Arrogance. I know best. You can’t tell Jimmy anything. They used it against him. He thinks he’s having them over. They’re playing it dumb and for someone who’s so very fucking clever Jimmy can also be incredibly stupid. They grafted him like a Yank tourist gets grafted on Oxford Street with a three-card trick, because nobody messes with the good ol’ US of A.’
‘How?’
‘It’s as old as civilisation. They have goods over here.’ He raises his right hand. ‘And a buyer over here.’ He raises the other. ‘This one will not under any circumstances release the goods until he’s paid in full, in full, mind. They have ninety per cent of the sum but now the buyer’s getting cold on the deal, but he, distrustful soul that he is, will not under any circumstances front them any money so they’re a bit stuck. They need a bridging loan and are willing to pay top dividend to the lender.’
‘And Jimmy went for it?’
‘These guys are very good.’
‘What was the consignment?’
‘Could be heroin, weapons, bomb-grade uranium, they’re all abundant in that part of the world. I don’t know, but it isn’t important anyway.’
‘So he pulled up his cash and mexxed up with these dudes?’
‘I didn’t know because they were telling him “Don’t tell Mister Edward,” so he doesn’t. In some ways I’m glad he didn’t and in other ways I wish he had because I could have put the kibosh on it.’
‘How much we talking here, Mister Ryder?’
‘Have a guess, son.’
‘Million?’
‘Up a bit.’
‘Two?’
‘Stick your neck out, have a decent fucking punt.’
‘Five?’
‘Double it.’
‘Fuck. Ten fuckin million!’
‘Then add three.’
‘Thirteen million pound!’
‘Yes,’ says Eddy, dry as you like.
‘Fuckin ‘ell. Let me get this straight. Jimmy’s been rumped for thirteen million quid by a loada East European grafters.’
‘He didn’t just hand over thirteen mill in readies after meeting these chaps the once. He didn’t get a bit tiddly on the Pimms, cop for a drop of sunstroke and decide to pop down the bank and withdraw thirteen mill. These guys worked at this like a long-term project. They brought in a guy to say he was the seller, then guys to say they were the buyers, flying them in from all over the world. Then one day they tell Jimmy that they’ve had a break and thanks, but they don’t need his investment after all and see you later, Mister Price. Jimmy’s apparently gone fucking mad, “We’ve got a fuckin deal, you Russian cunts, and now you’re trying to row me out,” so he argues his way back in. But then one of the guys who’s meant to be getting the money together their end is either arrested or killed or both. That’s the tale they’re telling Jimmy.’
‘And he believed all this?’
‘These Chechens are convincing. In your business you have to trust some people some of the time.’
‘Not for thirteen million, I wouldn’t.’
‘In Jimmy’s defence, this was all worked over an eighteen-month period and we, me and you, have the smug benefit of retrospective knowledge.’
‘That’s true.’
‘It starts off, he’s in for a mill and a half, five per cent dividend on the end profit, but they’re playing it so he’s increasing his holding all the time. They’re pretending that there’s disunity in their camp and Jimmy’s getting palsy with each side and shit-stirring, all very human, all very James Price. They worked it so James thought he’d brought off a coup de grâce and was in charge. “What we do now, Mister Jimmy?’”
‘Where the fuck did he get that sorta money?’
‘That’s about the lifetime’s earnings for a man in Jimmy’s position and he does have a few other strings to his bow, cash crops, which I’ll come to later. Think about it, he’s a canny boy with the shillings, is Jimmy. He’s eased up over the years, gives the wallet an airing every now and again, but years ago he was very tight. If you sat him down and bought him a cup of tea in the café and he had even a suspicion that it could be cheaper somewhere else, Inverness perhaps, he wouldn’t enjoy that cup of tea, even if you bought it for him.’
‘But thirteen million. I’d be gutted.’
‘I don’t think he’s being a Buddhist monk about it. This was done on a big scale. This was going to be Jimmy’s World Cup Final. How much did you think he had tucked
away?’
‘I never gave it a lot of thought to be honest.’
‘Surely you must have a bit of dough tucked away. Lucrative business, the drugs game. I wouldn’t mind a bit of that. I’ll wait till it’s almost nice and legal.’
‘How did it come on top with Jimmy and the Chechens?’
‘They just shipped out one day leaving Jimmy red-faced. Then he starts to lose the plot, thinks I’ve engineered the whole thing. His pride is hurt, can’t believe that anyone would turn him over, thinks he’s been betrayed, but you can only be betrayed by someone genuinely close to you and these people were only pretending, but he can’t handle that, it’s too real. He can twist things in his head, I know Jimmy, he starts to believe his own bullshit. After shuffling the pack he’s decided that I introduced him to this gang of cut-throats to get them away from me. Some people can’t accept that we all get had-over from time to time.’
‘Ransom? You said ransom earlier on.’
‘So I did. In his desperation he wanted me to negotiate with the gents from Moscow the return of his funds but they simply gave me a matron-size dollop of the old “We told you so, now he’s only got himself to blame” and the old sideways look. See, Jimmy doesn’t understand geography. He thinks all these Russian guys came over on the same coach trip. He doesn’t understand that there’s about the same distance from London to Moscow as there is from Moscow to Grozny. Jimmy can’t be told that. He even accused me of orchestrating the whole swindle.’
‘But you didn’t, did you?’ And up from out of nowhere, I wink.
‘I like you, son. You have a good aura about you as my wife would say, but you also have a very reckless side that could get you in trouble on life’s journey.’
‘I’m very sorry ‘bout that, Mister Ryder, it was disrespectful.’
‘Fucking right it was,’ he says, getting a snout outta his packet and lighting it.
I’ve got this riddled out now. ‘Jimmy thought he’d use your own daughter as a hostage against you?’ I say.
He nods.
‘Bittova cunt’s trick.’
He carries on nodding but says nothing.
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