by Caz Finlay
Grace nodded in agreement. She’d thought the same thing but hadn’t voiced her concerns last night.
‘They were good too,’ he added. ‘You should have seen the way they took out the bouncers. And Murf.’
‘They hurt Murf? Is he okay?’ Grace asked. Jack Murphy had worked for them for years and as well as a good employee, they considered him a friend.
‘He’s fine. They surprised him when he was coming out of the gents. Punch to the gut and he dropped like a sack of spuds.’
‘I thought you said the bouncers got the better of them?’ she asked, recalling their conversation the previous night.
‘I said they saw them off. Eventually. But it was probably the thought of the bizzies turning up that did it, now that I think about it.’
‘Is Murf going to find out who they were?’
Michael nodded. ‘He’d better. I’ve told him I want the names by the end of the day. Or at least who they’re working for.’
‘Good. Then we can decide what our next move will be. Do Jake and Connor know about this yet?’
‘No. I’ll give them a call in a bit and let them know.’
‘Tell them to stay out of it though. They can’t afford to be getting caught up in anything right now.’
‘I know. I will,’ he replied as he ran a hand through his thick hair.
Grace perched herself on the edge of the desk next to his chair. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
He smiled at her. ‘I’m fine,’ he said and she knew he was lying. He was worried and he wasn’t talking to her about it. No doubt trying to protect her. She was worried too, but she had faith that they could fix it all, as long as they were a team.
‘You know we’ll get through this, don’t you?’ she said as she placed a hand on his cheek.
Taking hold of her hand, he kissed her fingertips. ‘I know,’ he said quietly. Then he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. ‘I know.’
Grace had a feeling he was trying to convince himself as well as her. She wasn’t going to sit about all day waiting for Murf to identify the culprits. Murf was a good soldier, but that wasn’t exactly his field of expertise.
‘Do you have the CCTV?’ she asked.
Michael opened his eyes. ‘Yeah. It’s on my email.’
‘Good. I’m going to send it over to Nudge. He has plenty of contacts down south and beyond. He might recognise some faces, or at least tell us someone else who might. I know Murf is your right-hand man, but he’s not exactly Sherlock Holmes, is he?’
‘And Nudge is?’ Michael replied with a laugh.
Grace laughed too as she thought of her friend Nudge, who was a giant hairy man with a distinctive scar across his left eye – he was about as inconspicuous as a pink elephant. ‘No, but he is well connected.’
Michael nodded and wheeled the chair back from the desk. ‘It’s all yours,’ he said, indicating the laptop. With no other chair available, Grace perched on his lap and opened up his email inbox. She forwarded the email to Nudge with a request to identify the two intruders who had smashed up The Blue Rooms. Closing the computer again, she turned her body to face Michael. ‘I bet my man comes up with the goods before yours,’ she smiled.
‘You think so?’ he responded with a grin.
‘I know so.’
‘You’re very sure of yourself, Mrs Carter,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye before kissing her.
A few moments later, Grace was undoing the buttons on Michael’s shirt when her mobile phone started to ring on the desk beside them. Glancing at the screen, she saw that it was Nudge calling and she held her phone up in triumph. ‘Told you,’ she said, grinning, although even she hadn’t expected Nudge to be quite so efficient.
‘Hi, Nudge,’ she said as she answered the phone, putting it on speaker so Michael could hear too.
‘Hiya, Grace, love,’ he answered.
‘Michael’s here too. Do you have anything for us?’ she asked.
‘I know who one of those men is,’ he replied, his tone flat. ‘At least I know who he works for.’
‘Who?’ Grace asked, wondering what Nudge’s reluctance was about.
‘The one I’ve met before works for Alastair McGrath.’
Grace had never heard of him. ‘Who?’
It was a few seconds before Nudge spoke. ‘He is basically the Essex version of you.’
Grace felt Michael’s grip on her tighten. ‘What the hell is he doing sending his lads up here then?’ she asked.
‘That I can’t help you with. I don’t know Alastair myself, but I did some work years ago for his right-hand man, Jock Stewart. He owes me a favour or two actually,’ Nudge added. ‘I have no idea why his boss would send some lads to smash up The Blue Rooms though. Maybe it was a mistake?’
‘If Alastair McGrath is who you say he is, I don’t think he’d make those sort of mistakes, do you?’ Michael said.
‘I suppose not,’ Nudge agreed. ‘Want me to have a word with Jock and see what’s going on?’
Grace looked at Michael and he nodded. ‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt. But be discreet, please, Nudge.’
‘Of course, Grace. I always am,’ he reminded her.
‘Thanks, Let me know if you get any more information.’
‘I will. Bye, love.’
‘Bye, Nudge,’ she said as she hung up the phone.
‘Essex?’ Michael said with a shake of his head. ‘What the fuck is that about?’
‘No idea. We’ve never had any dealings with Essex, have we?’
‘No. But Connor might have. Him and Paul used to do work for all kinds of people before…’ He trailed off.
‘Let’s see what Nudge comes back with before we decide what to do next then,’ she suggested.
Michael nodded. ‘I’ll give Connor a ring and tell him about last night. I’ll ask him if he ever did any work for Alastair while I’m at it.’
‘I’ll phone Jake,’ Grace answered as she glanced at her watch and noticed it was only just after ten in the morning. ‘Although I doubt he’ll be up. I’ll go and pick the kids up from your dad’s first.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Michael said as she stood up. ‘We can phone Connor from the car.’
Grace nodded. Maybe they should ask Michael’s father Pat if he knew Alastair. Back in the day, it had been Patrick Carter who had first seen the potential in Grace. It was with his encouragement and backing that she had started her rise to the top. He had been her right-hand man and most trusted confidante for a very long time. He had known her father many years earlier and had always treated Grace like a daughter. He’d been over the moon when she and Michael had finally got together. He didn’t get involved in business much any more and proudly declared his status as a happily retired man to anyone who cared to ask. He had married Sue, a former nurse and generally lovely woman, and now preferred to spend his days with his grandchildren.
Grace knew that Patrick’s assault at the hands of her ex-husband, which had almost cost him his life and had left him with a permanent limp and two missing fingers on his left hand, had been a big contributory factor in his decision, and she always felt a pang of guilt about it. Nathan had targeted Patrick because he worked for her and because he was her friend. She was able to exact revenge for both of them a few months later when she put a bullet in Nathan’s chest.
Chapter Eighteen
Jock Stewart was taking his wife Celia a cup of coffee in bed when he saw the unknown number flashing on his mobile. He debated whether to answer it, knowing that it was very likely going to be something that would stop him from climbing back into his warm bed with his even warmer wife. Cursing under his breath, he picked up the phone and answered it.
‘Hello?’ he snapped.
‘Jock. It’s Nudge.’
‘Nudge? Fucking hell, mate. I haven’t heard from you for years. What’s going on?’
‘I’ll get straight to the point, Jock. Two of your lads smashed up Jake Conlon’s club last nigh
t. They gave some of the bouncers a good kicking too.’
Jock sucked the air through his teeth. Hadn’t he told those stupid bastards to keep their heads down and get the job done with minimum fuss? ‘Fuck!’
‘Can I take it from your reaction that they weren’t acting on your orders then? Were they Alastair’s?’ Nudge asked.
Jock didn’t answer. Nudge was a decent bloke, and they had always got on well, but Jock would never betray his boss. He wondered what Alastair had said to the boys before they left for Liverpool. Despite what orders Jock had given them, any from Alastair would override them. The problem was that Alastair didn’t understand the hierarchy in Liverpool. Everyone who was anyone was loyal to Grace Carter and her family. You made an enemy of her and you made an enemy of them all.
‘How do you know it was our lads?’ Jock asked.
‘One of them was that kid I helped out for you a few years back. I recognised the tattoo on his neck.’
Jock muttered under his breath as he realised that was true. Finn had stolen some antique jewellery from an East End gangster’s wife. The shit was so hot that it could have melted lead. Finn had been a stupid kid who’d seen an opportunity to make some easy money, not realising who he’d been stealing from. Nudge was the best fence Jock had ever met and he knew he’d be able to get rid of the stuff before anyone found out. Taking pity on Finn, whom he’d always had a bit of a soft spot for, Jock had passed them on to Nudge, who had sold them to a wealthy American collector. They’d all earned a decent wedge and no one had ever found out who stole the gems. The gangster had wrongly accused the Russians and had started a war that had wiped out half of their respective firms, so it had worked out well for everyone concerned.
‘I suppose you told Grace Carter who he was then?’ Jock said with a sigh.
‘Of course I did, Jock. She would have found out anyway. I like you, Jock, but she’s Grace fucking Carter, and she’s always had my back. I’m giving you the heads up in case you can do something about it and prevent your lads from being thrown into the Mersey with a pair of concrete wellies.’
‘Look, Finn and Nev are good lads. They weren’t sent there to cause any beef with Grace or her boys. They were there to collect some money someone owes us, and that was all.’
‘Who owes you money?’
‘Nobody important. Some fuckwit brothers. Anyway, is that really any of your fucking business, Nudge? Just try and hold off on World War Three until I have a chance to speak to the boss, eh? I’ll come up to Liverpool myself if I have to. Maybe we can nip this thing in the bud before it gets out of hand?’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Nudge replied. ‘But I’m not promising anything.’
‘Thanks, Nudge,’ Jock said as he ended the call. He put his phone into the pocket of his bathrobe and slammed his fist onto the kitchen counter. This was exactly what he’d been afraid would happen. The last thing they needed was a war with Liverpool.
For fuck’s sake! He was in his late fifties now and it was time to start winding down. He’d worked for Alastair McGrath for over thirty years, since they’d both been thrown out of a nightclub in Glasgow for selling ecstasy. They’d decided to pool their resources and soon became the biggest suppliers to every nightclub in the city. When Alastair had moved to Essex after meeting his wife, Shannon, Jock had made the move too, and had remained loyal to his best mate throughout the years, through every takeover and turf war, but now was surely the time to start slowing down and enjoying the fruits of their labour, not making more enemies at every turn.
Alastair was keen to get a foothold in Merseyside. He had Essex in the palm of his hand, and they had a good supply chain in Scotland thanks to their former connections, but he saw Liverpool as a vital link in the supply chain and he wanted a piece of it. For some reason, he had trusted the fuckwit Johnson brothers to do that for him. If Jock was in charge he’d have tried to make an ally of Grace Carter. From what he’d heard about her, she was a shrewd businesswoman, although she was ruthless when crossed. She’d even murdered her own ex-husband. He shuddered to think what might be waiting for him when he arrived in Liverpool. Whatever happened, he needed to speak to Alastair before he made any moves. But before all that he’d be calling Jerry and asking him what the fuck he was doing letting Finn and Nev out of his sight.
Chapter Nineteen
Grace and Michael had just finished talking to Connor about the incident at The Blue Rooms the previous night when Grace’s phone rang again. She answered it and the sound of Nudge’s voice filled the car.
‘I spoke to Jock. As I suspected, he didn’t say much, but he did say that those two lads weren’t working on his orders. They were here to collect a debt and that was all apparently.’
‘A debt from who?’ Grace asked, wondering if it was something to do with one of their bouncers – although surely she and Michael would know about it if it was the case.
‘Well, I asked that, and he got a bit cagey – understandably, I suppose. He said it was nobody important. Some fuckwit brothers apparently.’
‘Do you believe him?’
It was a few seconds before Nudge spoke, as though he was giving his response some serious thought. ‘Jock is a ruthless bastard. He’d carve you into pieces if you crossed him, but I’ve always found him to be a straight talker. And I think if him and his boss wanted to get your attention, they’d have been a little more direct.’
‘Did he say anything else?’
‘Yeah. He said he’d come up to Liverpool and sort the mess out himself if he needed to.’
Grace watched as Michael’s knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
‘What the hell did he mean by that?’ Grace asked.
‘I got the impression he meant to deal with his lads, not cause any more aggro. He said he wanted to nip this all in the bud before it got out of hand. I think he has a bit of a soft spot for one of the lads involved, otherwise he’d probably leave them to be dealt with, if you know what I mean?’
Michael turned in his seat and frowned at her. ‘So we’ve now got a gangster from Essex on his way up here to make sure nothing happens to his boys?’ he snapped.
‘Probably. But I honestly don’t think he wants any trouble with you two,’ Nudge offered.
‘A bit fucking late for that now, isn’t it?’ Michael said.
‘Did he say who these brothers were?’ Grace interrupted.
‘No, sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I’ve got a pretty good idea anyway. Thanks for the info, Nudge. Let us know if you hear anything else from your mate Jock.’
‘Will do, Grace. Bye now.’
Grace ended the call and turned to Michael. ‘I would bet our house on those brothers being the Johnsons.’
‘I agree they’re fuckwits. But why are you so sure they’re involved with this Essex lot?’
‘Think about it. A few months ago they tried to make a move on the lads’ business. They were gobbing off about being responsible for Paul’s murder. It was like they’d suddenly grown some balls. I bet that McGrath was backing them. Then Bradley Johnson suddenly disappears and McGrath’s sending his henchmen up here to try and collect a debt. Bradley has obviously done a runner with the money and left the rest of them in this shit.’
Michael shook his head. ‘Fucking hell, imagine doing that to your own brothers. Not to mention his wife and kids.’
‘I know. But there’s always been something dodgy about him.’
‘So, what do we do now then? We’ve got enough on our plate without a war with some Essex gangsters.’
‘Well, let’s hope what Jock told Nudge was right and they want to nip this in the bud. We’ll have to deal with them if and when they arrive. But I think the key to this whole thing is finding Bradley Johnson.’
Michael concentrated on the road ahead with his jaw clenched, so she went on. ‘Bradley has the money, or at least he had it – he’s probably gambled it away by now. So McGrath wants him, and no doubt his
brothers want him too.’
‘Maybe his brothers are in on it together? Maybe they already know where he is and just nicked the money? They are fucking idiots after all.’
Grace shook her head. ‘Most of them. But not that Craig lad. He’s got some nous about him. I don’t think the rest of them are involved, and I think they’d kill to have Bradley back. If the Johnson brothers were indebted to us – well, just think about it.’
‘I’m not sure they’d agree with your way of thinking though, love. They believe our sons murdered their brother.’
‘I know they do. But there are other things at play here. If they really owe this McGrath a substantial amount of money, then they are all in fear of their lives.’
‘How are we going to find him then?’ Michael asked.
Grace laid her head against the head rest and smiled. ‘Leave it with me,’ she said. Although she already had a plan, and it was going to fix everything.
Chapter Twenty
Jerry Smith was sitting on the small sofa in his hotel room, reading the newspaper and smoking a joint, when his mobile phone started to ring. Seeing Jock Stewart’s name flashing on the screen, he answered it quickly.
‘Everything okay, Boss?’ Jerry asked.
‘No, it’s fucking not okay, Jerry,’ Jock barked down the phone. ‘In fact, it’s as far from fucking okay as we can get. I thought I told you to keep an eye on that pair of meatheads last night?’
Jerry’s heart sank. Finn and Nev had rolled back to their hotel room at seven that morning, looking worse for wear and stinking of booze and cheap perfume. They’d gone straight to bed and were still sleeping it off. He’d assumed they’d behaved themselves though, given that they didn’t look hurt and after he’d warned them to.
‘What have they done?’ Jerry asked with a sigh.
‘They’ve only gone and trashed the nightclub of one of the biggest faces up there, that’s all. And given some of his bouncers a good walloping in the process. This could start a fucking war, Jerry.’
