The door bursts open and a team of six uniformed police officers storm into the cramped room followed by a smug Superintendent Benton. Terry, although shocked, hides his surprise and leans back in his chair, hands folded behind his head and a smile on his face.
“Superintendent Benton. You could have knocked.”
“I never knock,” he growls back. He throws a piece of paper at him. “A search warrant.”
“And what exactly do you intend to find?”
“I'll know that when we find it.”
Terry calmly watches as the seven of them proceed to tear the room apart.
“Ah ha,” cries Benton triumphantly, straightening up and clutching a large clear plastic bag containing white powder. “What's this then?”
“That's for personal use,” replies Terry nonchalantly.
“Don't give me that crap. Terry Maguire, you're under arrest on suspicion of intent to supply a class A substance.”
As they lead him out in handcuffs Terry is laughing.
Rachel and Beth walk into the City Amateur Boxing Club and stop in their tracks. All around them are muscular, sweaty men working out or sparring. The entire room reeks of testosterone and aggression.
“Oh my God. Have I died and gone to heaven?” whispers Beth.
Rachel giggles, flushing slightly. It seems like ages since she’s been with a man and the sight of all these strong men is almost too much for someone of her appetites.
Patrick Harrison approaches them with a ready smile. “Hi Rachel, nice to see you.”
“You too. How's business?”
“Great. We've got the championships coming up soon. I think Mikey's ready. He’s got the speed you see. I’ve never seen anyone with reflexes like his before, that’s what gives him his power.”
“Fantastic. Is he here?”
“Over there,” he replies, pointing vaguely to the lower end of the room.
“Oy Patrick, phone,” calls a short man with an enormous neck and massive shoulder muscles.
“Excuse me. I’ve got to take that.”
“Yes, of course,” replies Rachel pleasantly.
Rachel and Beth make their way down to the far end of the room, searching for Mikey.
“I can't see him,” says Rachel.
“Yeah but it's fun looking,” grins Beth, her eyes roaming over all the athletic torsos. Then she stops in her tracks, her eyes bulging. “There he is.”
Rachel looks up at the ring to her right, in which are two men sparring bare-chested and her jaw drops open when she realises one of them is Mikey. Now she knows why she hadn't recognised him at first. The body beneath those t-shirts he is so fond of wearing is toned and muscular. Although he is slender every muscle stands out in high definition, the ripple of his abdominal muscles disappearing tantalisingly beyond the band of the black shorts he wears. His body glistens with sweat, enhancing every contour and his green eyes sparkle with adrenaline.
“Bloody hell,” murmurs Rachel.
Mikey spots them and holds a gloved hand up to his opponent, indicating a break.
“Alright Rach,” he grins. “Beth.”
“Hi Mikey,” replies Beth, blushing slightly. She can’t take her eyes off his body, it’s incredible. “Rachel needs to tell you something,” she blurts out.
Mikey looks expectantly at Rachel.
“Yeah, I do.” Her mind has gone blank and she struggles to remember. “What was it?”
Beth is amused. It’s rare to see Rachel disconcerted.
“Oh yeah, that's it. Frank's called a meeting. He says it's urgent.”
Mikey leaps over the ropes agilely. “I'll grab a quick shower then I'll set off.”
“Do you need a lift? We can wait,” says Rachel.
“No it's alright, my car's outside. I'll meet you there.”
“Okay.” Rachel watches him stride off towards the showers.
“Looks like the boy’s grown up,” says Beth.
“He certainly has.” Rachel wonders why she never noticed before.
Frank has arranged for the meeting to be held in his office at the warehouse but only after it has been swept for bugs, he’s paranoid about bugs. MI5 are sneaky bastards.
Battler, Bruiser and Alex are already there when Mikey and Rachel arrive. Beth, for obvious reasons, is waiting at a bar around the corner.
“Bad news,” begins Frank grimly. “Terry's been nicked.”
“For what?” replies Alex.
“Possession of cocaine. A bloody paltry amount at that, barely enough for personal use.”
Frank is doubly mad because he had no idea Terry was using either. He studies Alex carefully, wondering if he is using too but he can't see it. Alex is a health nut and treats his body like a temple but if he is then God help him because Frank will kill him. He hates drugs and wishes he'd never got involved with them in the first place. They’re tearing his family apart, as they have so many others.
Rachel watches Frank with concern. She can see the thin film of sweat standing out on his brow, the taughtness of his jaw and the stiffness of his gait. Her trained eye knows that he’s in real physical pain and she makes a mental note to ask him about it later. If the others have noticed they give no sign.
“Well, what's the problem? They wont keep him long. He'll be out tonight,” replies Mikey. His confidence has grown lately and he is no longer backwards about coming forwards during family meetings.
“Nah. That was just an excuse to keep him in while they go over everything good and proper. It's that bastard Benton again, he's determined to take us down. I've sent our brief round to the station to try and get Terry out but Benton's tough, he'll put up a fight. In the meantime I want you all round the businesses making sure there's nothing for them to find.” He looks pointedly at Mikey and Rachel. “The clubs?”
“Spotless,” replies Mikey confidently. “They won’t find a thing.”
Frank looks to Rachel, who nods in agreement.
“Good. Now the rest of you get to it and for fuck's sake hurry.”
They all leave to carry out his orders but Rachel stays behind. Frank sinks into a chair and she notes his hand hovering over his stomach and the dark rings around his eyes.
He looks up at her and smiles. “Was there something else love?”
“What's wrong Frank?”
He knows what she is referring to but as always he puts on a brave face, unwilling to show any weakness.
“Nothing. Why?”
“Oh come on, you forget I was a nurse. You're in pain and you look like you haven't slept properly in ages.”
He sighs, deciding to be honest with her.
“Its a stomach ulcer. It started a few weeks before Danny left.”
Rachel knows these can cause the sufferer immense pain, although they can be treated and managed.
“It's a bloody nasty one too, particularly at night. I haven't had a decent night's kip in ages. All the stress has made it worse. Listen, only Martina and Terry know about this. I don't want Alex or anyone else finding out, they'll only worry and I need to be strong right now.”
“You shouldn't be having to deal with all this stress. It'll only make it worse.”
“I've no choice.”
“If there's anything I can do to help just let me know.”
He nods.
“I mean it Frank. I know you won’t ask for help from anyone but I want you to know it's there if you need it. No one will think less of you. You don't have to suffer in silence.”
He smiles, genuinely grateful.
As she turns to leave he calls after her. “Rach?”
“Yes?”
“My father died of a ruptured stomach ulcer.”
She nods, understanding what he is telling her. Often these things can be congenital and there is a possibility Frank may suffer a similar fate.
Terry reclines in his seat in the interview room at the police station, arms folded across his chest, smirking into the angry face of Superintendent Bento
n. He’s been there for three hours already and been denied a bathroom break and a drink but he’s still calm and relaxed, much to Benton’s chagrin and it’s taking all of his willpower not to throttle him.
“Tell me about the coke Terry,” demands Benton for the fifth time.
“I’m not saying anything without my brief.”
Benton has ordered the desk sergeant to delay the lawyer’s passage for as long as possible but he knows time is running out and Terry is no nearer to talking than he was when he first came in. He’d underestimated what a tough bastard is. He’d tried winding him up, hoping to unleash that famous temper of his but he’s keeping it under control and this puzzles Benton. He is positive Terry is responsible for these stately home robberies and is under immense pressure from above to get something done about it. The Coalition arranged for the cocaine to be planted so he could bring him in and in turn have a legitimate reason for turning over the Maguire’s premises. God knows it’s the only way to pull a Maguire in; they are far to smart to leave a trail behind them. Right now his men are tearing apart every warehouse, office and home the Maguires own and so far their search has turned up nothing. Benton is nervous. If he doesn’t come up with something then his superiors will see all his efforts as nothing more than a waste of resources, not a good start in his new position. Well he has one more trick up his sleeve. He jumps to his feet.
“Stick him back in the cell,” Benton orders a young PC. “We’ll see what he has to say when I bring his brother in.”
When Benton and his men burst into the warehouse Frank is still sat at his desk, staring into a glass of whisky. He barely reacts when Benton looms over him and shoves a search warrant under his nose.
“Go ahead,” sighs Frank, “tear the place apart. You won’t find anything.”
“We’ll see,” replies Benton smugly and something in his tone gives Frank cause for concern.
As the police commence their search the sound of crashes and bangs echoes up through the building.
“Move away from the desk Frank,” says Benton grimly.
Frank slowly gets to his feet and refills his glass with whisky. “Want one?” he asks Benton.
“No thanks, not while I’m on duty.”
Frank watches as Benton rifles through his desk, yanking the drawers off their runners and tipping the contents onto the floor but there isn’t much for him to find other than a few pens, a stapler and some paper clips. Then he tries the bottom drawer but it’s locked.
“Open it,” he orders.
Sighing loudly Frank takes the key out of his pocket and unlocks the drawer.
“You’re wasting your time.”
Ignoring him Benton opens the drawer and grins broadly. Frank feels his heart pound in his chest at the pure glee on Benton’s face.
“Can you explain this Mr Maguire?”
Frank’s eyes widen in shock as Benton turns to him holding a revolver.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“It should be me asking you that question.”
Frank’s surprise turns to rage. “You put it there didn’t you? You slippery bastard.”
“Oh come on Frank, how? You were watching. Did you see me put anything in the drawer?”
Frank’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. He has no answer.
“You know, I think I will have that drink now,” smiles Benton.
When the Maguire clan piles into the police station demanding Frank and Terry’s release Benton greets them with a cheery smile, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
“This is outrageous,” yells Martina. “You’re trying to fit my husband up. As if he’d keep a gun in his desk drawer, it’s stupid and he’s not a stupid man.”
“Please calm down Mrs Maguire. Frank and Terry are still being interviewed so there’s nothing you can do. But I must warn you, it looks like they’re both going to get charged.”
“You twat,” roars Alex, his hands balling into fists. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
He makes a move towards Benton who stands his ground but Mikey grabs him and pulls him back.
“Go for it Alex,” goads Benton. “Let’s see if I can get the hat trick.”
“For Christ’s sake Alex that’s just what he wants,” Mikey whispers in Alex’s ear.
Martina puts her hand on her son’s arm and looks at him with pleading eyes. Alex takes a deep breath and regains mastery over his temper, which is difficult for him given the intolerable smirk on Benton’s face. Everyone in the reception area - police and public alike - have gone quiet and are watching the scene with curiosity and foreboding. Everyone knows who the Maguires are and are excited to see them up close, as though they are exhibits in a museum.
“Now, you can either wait here or you can bugger off home, your choice but whichever you choose make sure you do it quietly or you’ll all be locked up.”
Rachel takes Martina’s hand and sits her down beside her on one of the hard plastic chairs. They both stare at Benton indignantly. Mikey, Alex, Battler and Bruiser follow suit.
“If you want anything to eat or drink the canteen’s just up there,” says Benton pleasantly, indicating the stairs. He can afford to be magnanimous given that he’s the one in control. He smiles at their sullen faces and returns to the interview room with a spring in his step.
While Benton is out of the room Frank leans back in his uncomfortable seat and frowns. He feels foolish. This is the first time he’s ever seen the inside of a police station, indeed he’s proud of his ability to evade the law so this latest setback has put a huge dent in his ego. To make matters worse he knows he’s been well and truly set up and what’s more he’s sure he knows by who. All this has gone to confirm that Benton is now a part of The Coalition. He knew exactly where to look for that gun, the rest of the search was just window dressing. One of his own has been feeding The Coalition information about the family, that’s how they knew when Martina would be alone, where to look for the gun and about the stately home robberies. But there’s more to it, something that he’s missing and for the life of him Frank can’t see what it is. He winces and massages his stomach, his ulcer going ten to the dozen as his stress levels go through the roof.
CHAPTER 26
The Maguires have to wait five hours before Terry is released on bail but they have to concede defeat in Frank’s case as Benton decides to hold him overnight for further questioning. He is released in the early hours of the following morning, crumpled and exhausted. He refuses to speak to anyone about what has been said, wanting to get his head around his epiphany, trying to see the big picture. So he has a shower to rid himself of the stench of the police station, takes a couple of sedatives and slips into a dreamless, pain-free sleep. When he awakes the next morning he feels refreshed and clear-headed and knows exactly what he has to do. So he arranges for Terry to come to the house after Martina has left for her pilates class.
“I won’t tell you again Terry. You'll stop the stately home robberies immediately. They're attracting too much attention. Why do you think Benton pulled you in, because it certainly wasn’t for that bag of coke?”
Frank's voice thunders through the house, such is the extent of his rage. He’s just discovered that Terry has set up another stately home job despite what he’s already been told. What’s fuelling his anger is the fact that Alex is in on it with him. This betrayal by his eldest son has cut him to the quick but Terry is refusing to back down.
“And I'm telling you no. They're easy money,” retorts Terry.
“You can't enjoy the money if you're banged up. For fuck's sake Terry when did you get so greedy? You know as well as I do that greed always lead to prison. Stop being a fool.”
The hatred in Terry's eyes is potent and Frank almost recoils from it. He’s never seen Terry like this before, he has always obeyed without question. Now he is rebelling and Frank is stunned.
“The robberies are mine Frank. I set them up, I pull them off and I earn us a lot of money in the proces
s. Not you, me. You're getting old Frank, old and soft. If you had your way we'd all be working nine to five jobs like the rest of the saps.”
“Don't you talk to me like that you little bastard. I brought you into the business, I trained you and gave you a good living. You owe me big and this is how you repay me? Well I made you and I can destroy you in a heartbeat. Don't think the fact you are my brother will stop me.”
Frank is sweating profusely, the pain in his belly intensifying. He grits his teeth against it, trying not to let his discomfort show, but Terry has already picked up on it. Terry knows his brother’s had his day and he's just the man to take over.
Terry grabs Frank by the throat and shoves him backwards. Frank tries to push back but he is too weak and he topples to the floor. Terry stands over him, eyes wild, laughing.
“Look at you. Pathetic. You used to be great Frank, no one could touch you. I used to be so proud to be your brother and your protégé but now you're just an embarrassment.”
“Why take it out on Danny?” wheezes Frank, struggling to his feet. “You’re his uncle for fuck’s sake. How could you do it to him?”
Terry visibly pales. He knows exactly what Frank is referring to but he’s hoping to bluff his way out of it. “Do what?”
“Oh please. I had the coke you gave him analysed. You’d had it cut with all sorts of shit. No wonder he went mental. Jesus Christ, it’s a miracle he’s still alive.”
Terry regards Frank predatorily and for the first time in his life Frank feels real fear creeping up his spine.
“Have you told anyone else?”
“No. I wanted to speak to you first.” Frank grits his teeth and kicks over a chair. “How could you do it? He’s your fucking nephew.”
“He was in my way,” hisses Terry.
“And you were just going to kill him or send him insane. Why? Because you want to be the boss? Haven’t I taught you anything? Family comes first. It’s more important than anything. Without it, what’s the point?”
“Oh shut up you sanctimonious old div. I knew you were starting to consider handing the reins over to him when you retired instead of me. He had to go.”
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