“I'm fine. Stop fussing.”
“Martina, sweetheart, Rachel's right. I'd feel a lot better if you got checked out.”
“No Frank. I'm fine and there's all this cleaning up to do.”
“Bugger the cleaning, woman,” huffs Frank.
“I'm not going and that's an end to it.” Martina stands with her hands on her hips, glaring defiantly at Frank.
“Well, if you're sure,” he acquiesces.
Rachel's eyes widen. “You've just given me an idea.”
They all look at her expectantly.
“Whoever set this up doesn't know they failed. Why not let them think they succeeded? If they think their plan's working they'll get more confident. It might flush them out.”
“You have had an idea haven't you,” says Frank, his mind whirling.
“I am not pretending to be dead,” protests Martina. “You shouldn't tempt fate like that.”
“Don't worry love. Leave it to me,” replies Frank reassuringly.
“You've got a hell of a woman there,” Ryan tells Danny.
“I know,” replies Danny coldly, not liking the way Ryan is looking at his wife.
Alex and Terry return from putting the skinhead in the van, panting and sweating. “Err if you don't mind we could do with a hand,” calls Alex.
“What about George Dad?” says Danny.
“Stick him in the van. We'll take him too.”
CHAPTER 14
The cellar in the warehouse is just four bare soundproofed walls and a concrete floor hidden behind a garage door. It’s furnished spartanly with a few chairs, a large sink with a hose, brooms, an array of cleaning equipment and two large chest freezers. At the back of the room is a large metal locker with a padlock on it. Terry backs the van in and switches off the engine. As he closes the doors to the lock-up Alex hits the lights, bathing the room in a cold fluorescent light.
Ryan looks round and nods approvingly. “I like it Frank. Very clinical.”
Alex and Danny throw open the back doors of the van and drag their four hostages out. Frank watches the scene solemnly, his arms folded across his massive chest.
“We do Pete first,” he snarls, hatred in his eyes for his oldest friend.
Danny and Alex drag Pete to his feet, hurl him into the chair then tie his arms and feet to it firmly. They all stand back as Frank slowly approaches him, the only sound the dull tap of his shoes on the concrete. Pete looks up at him slowly but without fear, already looking like a man who knows he’s defeated. Frank kneels down before him, sadness etched on his face. Gently he removes Pete's gag.
“Why Pete? How could you sell me out like this? We've been friends for so long. I'm even Godfather to your eldest.”
“My kids Frank,” pleads Pete, his voice dry and hoarse. “They said they'd put Luke away for a fifteen stretch if I didn’t kill Martina.”
“What for? He's never had so much as a parking ticket. He's an estate agent not a villain, although many people would equate them as one and the same.”
“What does that matter? These people can do what they like. They also said they'd make sure Kelly ended up a hooker. They'd make sure she lost her job, home, everything so she’d be kicked out on the streets.”
“But Pete, no one can do that. No villain has that sort of power.”
“These aren't villains Frank. If they were it would be so much easier. I would have killed them myself rather than betray you but these people are more powerful than you can imagine.”
Frank leans towards his friend. He realises he is holding his breath with the tension. “Who are they Pete?”
“I turned them down at first. Two hours later Luke was nicked for possession of cocaine and Kelly had been sacked and thrown out of her flat and all her credit cards were declined.”
Frank sits back on his haunches, trying to make sense of what he is hearing. Danny, Terry, Alex and Ryan all glance at each other uneasily.
“Pete, what are their names?” says Frank.
“I can't tell you, I have to protect my family but I can tell you they want rid of you.” He looks at Ryan. “All of you. They think if they can get rid of your families then the police can clear up the smaller gangs no problem and there'll be no more crime. They're fed up of you lot running the show. I had to kill Martina then dump her body where it wouldn’t be found for a few days to torment you and I had to make it look like the Law’s did it. They've been stirring up this war between you for months now. It started with Jamie Law. They dripped poison in his ear about Danny and Rachel, convinced him they were taking the piss. So he went after Danny. They knew you'd retaliate and it went on from there.”
“They arranged my release, didn't they?” says Ryan, his voice cool and calm.
“Yeah. Mikey's too. The more chaos they cause in the families, the more mixed up you become and the more volatile things get.”
“They’re right,” says Danny and they all nod their agreement.
“I thought it was funny,” says Frank. “Getting a permanent early release is harder than getting into a nun's drawers. It can only come for the Justice Secretary. So whoever pushed for it has friends in very high places.”
“Frank, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know what it would have done to you if I'd killed Martina but I had to put my kids first.”
Frank nods and gets to his feet. “I know mate, I know.” His voice is soft and he runs a hand through his thick mane. Then he thinks of what could have happened to his wife had Ryan and Rachel been five minutes later and when he speaks again his voice is harder. “I want their names Pete.”
“I can't do that Frank. You can torture me if you like but I won’t give them up.”
Frank studies his friend thoughtfully and realises he is telling the truth.
“What about these three? Maybe they know something,” says Alex. The skinhead is beginning to come round and he kicks him hard in the ribs. He is gratified to hear the crunch as the bone breaks.
“They don't know anything. They dealt with me and me alone. These people aren’t stupid enough to spread their identities about.”
“Have it your own way Pete.” Frank looks round at the three figures lying on the floor and his eyes settle on George. “Him first.”
“No, no,” screams George as Alex and Terry drag him across the floor and secure him to another chair.
Frank opens the locker to reveal an array of knives, axes, hammers, blow torches and surgical implements. He studies the tools before selecting a large lump hammer. He turns the weapon over in his hands, regretting what he is about to do but he is left with no choice.
Rachel is helping Martina tidy up her devastated lounge. The sadness on Martina's face is evident as she collects the shattered remnants of a crystal vase given to them on their twentieth wedding anniversary and Rachel feels so sorry for her. She knows Pete is an old friend of the family, one of the few people still standing from Frank's generation, although he won't be for much longer. Suddenly Martina breaks into deep, wracking sobs and Rachel rushes to her side. She has never seen Martina anything but strong before and knows she must be really hurting to let anyone see her tears.
“It's alright,” soothes Rachel. “Frank will sort him out.”
“It's Frank I‘m crying for. He's been friends with Pete since he was a boy and he’s the only other one left from their generation. It suddenly struck me that next time it might be Frank being tortured and killed somewhere.”
Rachel shivers slightly. She’d trying hard not to think about it but at this very moment her husband, brother and father-in-law are murdering another human being.
Martina seems to divine her thoughts because she grasps her hand.
“Don't worry. You get used to it.”
“How?”
“Try not to think about it too much. Just pretend they're on business. It gets easier after a while. The nights are the hardest. If Frank's late back I lie awake waiting for him to come home and then he gets a bollocking. But I'm always waiti
ng for that knock on the door telling me that he's never coming home and it'll happen one day, I just know it.”
“Don't say that.”
“But it will, it's the nature of the beast. It's rare for anyone in their line of work to live to a ripe old age.”
Rachel nods and hangs her head, realising she is speaking sense but not wanting to hear it all the same.
“We both knew what we were doing when we married them,” says Martina softly. “This is the price we pay for being with the men we love.”
Rachel smiles. “It's worth it.”
Martina smiles back and squeezes her hand.
Alex is applying the blow torch to the soles of the skinhead's feet, his screams muffled by a gag. George and the other lackey are bloody messes, slumped to one side on their chairs, the bindings the only things keeping them upright. Frank and Ryan have watched Terry, Danny and Alex torture the men relentlessly and despite the damage inflicted on his friends Pete has refused to utter a single word. The smell of blood, urine and burning flesh is pungent and Frank decides to call it a day.
“Alright Alex, that’s enough.”
Alex looks slightly disappointed and Frank again worries about his eldest son's sadistic tendencies. He turns off the blow torch and waits for his father's orders.
“I've had enough of this shit,” mutters Frank. He takes a gun out of his belt, screws on the silencer and aims it at George. Fortunately for George he is unconscious so when Frank pumps two bullets into his head and one in his chest he doesn't even realise what’s happening. Without pause Frank does the same to the two lackeys. Then he aims the gun at Pete.
“Do it Frank. You'd be doing me a favour,” breathes Pete through bloody lips.
Frank puts the gun away and Pete almost looks disappointed.
“I didn't want to do this but you've left me no choice. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” He fixes his dark eyes on Pete and summons all the hatred he can muster. “If you don't tell me what I want to know then I'll kill Luke myself but it won’t be quick. It'll be just like this,” he says indicating George's body. “Kelly will be raped before she has her throat cut and you’ll be kept alive just long enough to watch it all.”
Pete closes his eyes in horror and shakes his head. “No Frank you wouldn't do that. You've known then since they were babies.”
“Normally I wouldn't Pete but this is about survival and I'll pick my family over yours any day.”
Tears well in Pete's eyes. He knows Frank is more than capable of carrying out his threat, he has no choice.
“Alright. You win.” He takes a deep breath, praying he is doing the right thing for his kids. “I only know one name. Superintendent Jarvis.”
“Of course, that's why he's been sniffing round lately,” says Danny.
“But he wouldn't have the pull to get me out of jail,” says Ryan. “So who else is there?”
“I don't know, honestly. Jarvis was the one who approached me. From what I could gather there are three others involved but of course he wouldn't tell me who they were. He thought a demonstration of their power would be enough.”
Frank feels uneasy. A faceless enemy is a lot more intimidating than a known one.
“He gave me a phone number and told me to ring him at four o'clock.”
Frank checks his watch. “It's five to.”
“I think you should let him make that call,” says Ryan.
Frank nods, takes Pete’s phone from his jacket pocket and thrusts it into his shaking hands.
The Coalition have gathered for another meeting in the shadows. It is May Roberts who speaks first.
“Everything is going to according to plan?”
“Perfectly. I have arranged for Pete Fraser to call me on the secure line here in precisely two minutes.”
“You are confident of his abilities?”
“Absolutely.”
The phone on the table next to Jarvis rings and he snatches it up eagerly. He listens, his head bobbing. “Yes it's me. Excellent. Goodbye.” Jarvis hangs up, eyes gleaming. “It's done.”
“You have done well Superintendent,” says May. “Now Frank Maguire will be out for blood.”
Jarvis smirks. He just wishes he could see the look on Frank Maguire’s face when he’s looking at his dead wife in the morgue.
Pete ends the call and hands the phone to Frank.
“I've saved the number onto it but I think you'll find it’s untraceable.”
“Probably but it's worth a try,” replies Frank, pocketing the phone. “You know what has to be done now?”
Pete nods wearily. “I don't blame you Frank, I'd do the same thing in your position.”
Frank aims the gun at his friend's head.
“You'll take care of my kids won’t you? Make sure they'll alright?”
“I swear they'll be safe.”
Pete nods, reassured. They all wait for Frank to pull the trigger and Ryan notices him hesitate.
“Frank, may I?” says Ryan, indicating the gun. “I lost three of my boys. I'd like a little payback too.”
Frank is relieved and hands the gun to Ryan. He worries that he’s getting too old for all this.
Calmly Ryan pumps two into Pete’s head and two into his chest. He lolls back in his chair with an almost serene look on his face. Frank gazes sadly at the body of his dead friend. He'd been one of the last of his generation.
Ryan takes out a handkerchief and wipes the gun clean before handing it back to Frank. “You can't be too careful,” he says cheerfully.
Frank smiles grimly and takes the gun from him. “We're going to go ahead with Rachel's plan. Agreed?” He directs the question to Ryan. He knows his lads will go along with whatever he orders but he isn't sure about this one. To his relief Ryan nods, he’s not up to an argument. “Now I have to go home and tell your mother she has to pretend to be dead for a few days. It's not going to go down well.”
“You go Dad, we'll clean up here,” says Alex, indicating the bodies. They will dump them in the chest freezers until they are frozen stiff then cut them up and burn them. This ensures no mess left behind for forensics and no body parts to be disposed of.
“Thanks lads. Can I give you a lift Ryan?”
“Please Frank.”
Frank and Ryan walk outside into the fresh air and inhale deep lungfuls, anxious to clear the stench of the lock-up from their nostrils.
“I mean it Ryan, we have to work together on this one,” says Frank. “If we open up old wounds then we all go down.”
Ryan nods. “I know Frank and you have my word. We will cooperate entirely with you and who knows, some good might come out of this. We might be able to bury the hatchet once and for all.”
Frank nods, running a large hand through his shaggy hair. He knows Ryan Law would like to bury the hatchet alright. In his skull.
Martina is in a fury. Her eyes blaze and her cheeks are red with indignation. She waggles her index finger in Frank's face.
“I refuse to pretend to be dead.”
If it wasn't so serious Danny would find it funny. It’s the most surreal conversation he’s ever heard.
“But Babe it's only for a short while. Jarvis is dining at the Hatton Restaurant in three days. We'll both go and have a nice meal. It'll put the frighteners right up him seeing you alive and well.”
“I don’t like it,” she retorts mutinously.
He takes her face gently in his hands and smiles down at her, the love shining in his eyes. Martina's anger evaporates as she gazes back at her adored husband. Danny smiles at the scene. He hopes that will be him and Rachel in twenty years’ time. As in response to his thoughts, Rachel comes up behind him and hands him a mug of tea. She smiles at him and rests her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her and kisses the top of her head.
“Do it for the family love. Do it for me. I promise I'll make it up to you. How about that nice little sports car you had your eye on?” pleads Frank.
She acquiesces. “
Alright. I'll do it.”
He kisses her hard on the lips. “That's my girl.”
“I never thought she'd go for that,” Rachel tells Danny quietly.
“He knows how to get round her when he wants to.” He frowns when he sees how pale Rachel is. “You alright?”
She nods. “It’s been a long day.” As she looks at her husband she pushes aside the unwelcome images of him torturing Pete and his cronies, of what terrible instruments his hands have wielded to cause suffering to another human being and she is surprised by how effortless it is. Martina’s right, it does get easier.
The street is dark and deserted, the glow cast from the street lights weak and watery. Beth's heels make a sharp click clack on the pavement as she pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders and steps up the pace. Her friend had offered to share a taxi with her but she'd refused, reasoning that she only lives a five minute walk from the nightclub, a decision she is already regretting. She breathes a little easier when the gates of the Montford become visible in the distance.
When Cathy and three of her friends step out of the shadows before her, blocking her path, Beth is forced to stop.
“What do you want?” sighs Beth, thinking Cathy is just after a bit of a row.
“Seen Alex lately have you?”
“That's none of your sodding business.”
“If it hadn't been for you, you slag we'd still be together.”
Beth laughs. “You've only yourself to blame for that. You’re a vindictive stupid bitch and he finally saw you for what you are. He would have dumped you anyway, whether he’d met me or not.”
Beth is aware she is outnumbered but that needed saying and she feels better for it. Cathy tries to punch Beth but she side-steps the blow, causing Cathy to stagger forward.
“You couldn't even face me on your own. You had to bring your little friends along to back you up,” says Beth. She knows she is going to get a hiding and is determined to get her twopenneth worth in first.
“Hold her,” orders Cathy and her friends all grab a tight hold of Beth, who for the first time looks scared.
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