The Front

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘I’ve a good mind to leave Jake here till he shows his face,’ The Man said now.

  Stevo was filled with dread. There was no way he wanted to get into it with Jake. He was a raving psycho. The Man was a definite heavyweight, there was no denying that, but at least he had a reputation for being fair. But Jake! He’d just as soon torture and mutilate someone as listen to reason.

  ‘Cha!’ Jake exclaimed loudly. ‘I ain’t hanging about in this filthy dump!’

  Stevo just about managed to hold in his juddering sigh of relief.

  ‘Look, why don’t you let me do it?’ Max suggested. ‘I’ll speak to him, suss out what he knows.’

  The Man looked at his watch. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll give you two hours to find him and get his story. But after that, Rico and the boys are on it – and believe me, Max, I ain’t fooling! Seen?’

  ‘Seen,’ Max agreed glumly.

  Stevo shrank back into the brickwork as The Man, Jake, and the heavies marched past just inches away. He held his breath, knowing full well he’d be thrown head first over the balcony if one of them saw him. And he didn’t even know what he was supposed to have done.

  He waited until he had heard the car doors slamming and the tyres squealing out of the car park down below before exhaling and opening his tightly shut eyes. Max was bad enough, but even he’d sounded scared just now. There was something heavy going down.

  As Max went back into the flat, Stevo made a decision. Whatever he was supposed to have done, Max was his only hope. Hadn’t he just pleaded for time to talk to Stevo? Taking a deep breath, he edged out of the shadows, checking carefully that The Man hadn’t blagged him and left someone on the stairs to catch him out.

  ‘What do you make of it?’ Jake asked when they’d dropped Rico and the boys off at their own car.

  ‘Stinks like rotten pussy,’ The Man said.

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Jake sniffed. ‘That’s the filthiest yard I ever stepped in!’

  The Man checked his watch again. Two hours he’d given Max. He had plenty of time to shower again – get the stench of that scum out of his skin. And he needed to eat. He rolled his head, clicking the little bones in his neck. He felt like crap, and this business was beginning to wear him down.

  ‘Pull in at the gym,’ he said on a whim. ‘I need a sauna to sweat the stench of that gaff out of my system.’

  Jake eased the car to the left, heading for the Princess Parkway. He’d drop The Man, then go and sort some of their other business. Marie had rung the mobile when they’d been on the way over to Stevo’s to tell them that one of the other girls was getting out of line. It was Jake’s job to slap her back in – his job and his pleasure.

  Glancing sideways at The Man as he idled at a red light, Jake frowned. His eyes were shut, his head back on the rest. Where was his energy these days? Jake hoped it wasn’t a signal of bad things coming. If The Man was getting lazy, the other posses would soon catch on and it wouldn’t be long before one of them stepped up in his face.

  Pulling up outside the gym, Jake nudged The Man awake. After arranging to come back in an hour to collect him, he pulled away, watching in the rear-view as The Man strolled inside. It was time to start seriously contemplating his own future.

  11

  Wendy was in the day room, having a cigarette, when the nurse popped her head round the door to tell her she had visitors.

  ‘Can’t you send them in here?’ she asked.

  ‘Sorry.’ The nurse smiled apologetically. ‘It’s against the rules, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid rules are made to be broken!’ Wendy snapped. Then she relented when the nurse looked about to cry. Heaving herself out of the chair, she said, ‘Oh, all right! Where are they?’

  ‘By your bed,’ the nurse said, adding, ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs Donaldson? I think the trolley’s coming round soon. Shall I bring you one?’

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’ Wendy sighed. She knew she was being a bitch, but she was wound up. ‘What time’s dinner?’ she asked. ‘I’m starving.’

  The nurse checked her watch. ‘Should be about an hour, but if you’re hungry I could make you a sandwich.’

  She looked so eager to be liked, Wendy allowed her a smile. ‘Yes, that would be nice. And . . . thanks, love.’

  Watching her disappear into the kitchen, Wendy sighed again. It was really getting her down, being stuck in here. She just wanted to get home – and get to grips with what Sam and his idiot friends were doing. Sort it all out before things got any worse than they were now.

  They were all crowded around her bed when she pulled the curtain aside: Sam slumped in the only chair, Mal fiddling with the radio headphones, Ged talking quietly to Suzie. But what immediately pissed her off was Lee and some tart she’d never seen before cosy-cosying on her bed.

  ‘Oi! You two!’ she snarled. ‘Shift!’

  Mal dropped the headphones when he heard her voice. Coming around the bed with his arms spread wide, he hugged her. ‘Look at you, then,’ he said, pushing her back to look her over. ‘Beautiful as ever! How was it, then? Shelling peas, or what?’

  ‘Bloody painful!’ she snorted.

  ‘Well, you’d never know!’ he said with a wink. ‘Eh . . .’ he dropped his voice. ‘Where’s the khazi in this place? I’ll go and make you a spliff for tonight.’

  ‘Out that door, and turn left.’ Wendy pointed the way. ‘But don’t be putting bush in it. I don’t want to stink the place out.’

  As Mal headed off to the toilets, Wendy turned her attention back to Lee who was still on her bed. Shoving him hard in the back, she said, ‘I won’t tell you again. Shift!’

  ‘Wendy, babe . . . love of my life.’ Lee jumped up, pulling Elaine with him. ‘How’s it hangin’?’

  Ignoring him, she climbed painfully onto the bed. ‘Hope you brought my cigs?’ she said to Sam. ‘And where are those flowers I told you to bring?’

  Sam stood up, pulling a beautiful bunch of roses and freesias from beneath the chair. He handed them to her, bending to kiss her cheek. ‘Where is she, then?’ he asked, looking around for his missing baby.

  ‘Where’s who?’ Wendy asked, laying the flowers on the cupboard with hardly a glance.

  ‘Where’s who?’ cackled Lee. ‘What did I tell you, ’Lane? She’s a right one, ain’t she? Where’s who? Ha ha ha!’

  ‘Give me strength!’ Wendy hissed, glaring at Lee. ‘What did you bring him for, Sam? And what’s that hanging off its arm?’

  ‘This is Elaine,’ Lee said, pushing Elaine forward into the freezing zone of Wendy’s glare.

  ‘Hiya!’ Elaine chirped. ‘I’m Leo’s new girlfriend.’

  ‘Lee!’ hissed Lee.

  ‘ ’S what I said!’ said Elaine. ‘So you’re Wendy, are you?’ she said to Wendy then. ‘I’ve been dying to meet you.’

  Suzie shook her head, covering a grin with her hand. If Elaine only knew it, she had well and truly put the mockers on any hope of Wendy ever giving her the time of day. But Elaine didn’t notice Wendy’s sneer. She was actually a very good match for Lee – as thick-skinned and as oblivious to people’s distaste as he was. If she’d decided that she and Wendy were going to be mates, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Halfway through Elaine’s bubbling pot of questions about the baby, Wendy turned to Suzie. Her smile was deliberately warm as she said, ‘Suzie, I’m glad you made it, darlin’. I’ve been waiting all day to see you.’

  Suzie glowed with the special attention. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!’

  ‘Neither would I,’ said Ged. ‘So where’s the baby I almost delivered?’

  Wendy rolled her eyes. ‘Probably in the nursery.’

  ‘Aaah!’ Elaine cooed ecstatically. ‘I love babies. Can I go and see her?’

  ‘No,’ said Wendy without even looking at her. ‘Suzie, you can go and check on her for me if you want. Just go and ask that nurse over there where she is.’

  ‘I’ll go wit
h you,’ Elaine said.

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Wendy snapped. ‘You can stay put and stop your boyfriend bothering me.’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ Elaine grinned, happy to stay in the presence of Queen Wendy.

  ‘I’ll come,’ Ged said, following Suzie through the curtain.

  ‘What time is it?’ Wendy asked Sam when they’d gone.

  ‘Just gone ten to six.’

  ‘Better get into the TV room.’ Wendy dropped her feet down. ‘Don’t want to miss the news. Oi!’ she snapped as Lee and Elaine went to follow her through the curtain. ‘You’re not coming!’

  ‘Aw, Wend,’ Lee moaned. ‘It was my idea!’

  ‘What was?’ Elaine asked.

  Wendy gave Lee a contemptuous glare. ‘Idiot!’ she hissed. ‘Right, come on, then – but stay quiet, or else!’

  Suzie and Ged crept into the day room a few minutes later. Then Mal swanned in and slipped Wendy’s spliff to her.

  ‘Hey, this is the life,’ he said, pulling a pile of chairs forward and positioning them in front of the TV. ‘So what are we watching?’

  ‘The news,’ Ged told him, motioning with a finger under his nose for Mal to wipe some stray powder away.

  ‘Me and Sooze are on it,’ Elaine told Wendy proudly.

  ‘She’d better not start yapping!’ Wendy snapped at Lee.

  ‘Here you go,’ Mal said, dropping into a chair. ‘It’s on.’

  The nurse poked her head through the door. She was about to remind Wendy that it was against the rules for visitors to sit in here but, finding them so quiet, she decided to leave them to it. They weren’t doing any harm, and as the ward sister had nipped out, it was up to her. Pulling the door shut, she headed back to the nursery to have another cuddle of Wendy’s baby.

  The theme tune and titles came to an end, then Declan Maine, the studio newsreader, came on.

  ‘Good evening. Tonight’s main story is the murder of prominent local businessman, Pashratar Singh.

  ‘The body of Mr Singh, owner of PS Supermarket in Hulme, was discovered in the early hours of this morning. He was killed in what police are describing as suspicious circumstances. For the full story, we’ll go over to Liz Jardine at the scene.’

  A picture of the supermarket flashed up on the screen.

  ‘Ooh, look!’ Elaine yelped. Lee quickly nudged her quiet.

  Liz Jardine smiled gravely into the camera.

  ‘This morning, the body of a well-respected local businessman, Pashratar Singh, was discovered in the yard behind me . . .’ She gestured towards the gates with a sweep of her arm.

  ‘Mr Singh was murdered in what police are describing as an attempted robbery. It is unclear as yet who is responsible for this unprovoked, savage attack . . .’

  ‘Eh, up!’ Mal laughed, throwing a mock punch at Lee. ‘You savage git, you!’

  ‘. . . But the police are following up a number of leads. We will bring you up to date as and when we have information as to their findings.

  ‘Earlier, I spoke to Detective Inspector Ted Jackson of Greater Manchester Police; the officer in charge of the investigation.’

  The picture flipped to the morning scene and everyone surged forward on their seats, hoping to see Suzie again. The camera closed in on Jackson, looking extremely uncomfortable. His sharp eyes narrowed to slits as he waited through Liz Jardine’s introductory waffle.

  ‘Look!’ Lee pointed at the screen. ‘It’s Wacko-Jacko!’ He turned to Elaine, saying proudly, ‘He busted me last year – right old bastard, he is. Nearly stitched me up good ’n’proper. Tried to plant a shitload of drugs on me!’

  ‘Bollocks!’ Mal sneered. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t do you for possession!’

  ‘He couldn’t do me after nicking all me shit off me, could he?’ Lee said indignantly.

  ‘Thought you said he planted it on you?’ Mal said. ‘Anyhow, he probably needed it for the police Chrimbo party! You’ve contributed to the Dibble’s benevolent fund, you cunt!’

  ‘Ssshhh!’ Wendy hissed. ‘I can’t hear what they’re saying.’

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector,’ Liz Jardine smiled at Jackson. ‘What can you tell us about this horrific crime?’

  Jackson cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘Not a lot at this point, other than to confirm that the body is that of Mr Pashratar Singh, and that he was fatally wounded in what we are preliminarily treating as an armed robbery.’

  ‘As we know, Detective Chief Inspector, Mr Singh was well known and respected by the people in this area,’ Liz Jardine went on, her face a studied mask of caring. ‘And such a vicious crime must surely cause concern to such a close-knit community. What can you tell these people to explain this terribly shocking event?’

  ‘We’ve not, as yet, reached a definite conclusion as to the motive behind the attack,’ said Jackson guardedly. ‘But obviously we will be following every lead, and every care will be taken to ensure that no information is overlooked.’

  ‘I believe there was an eyewitness? What can you tell us about that?’

  Jackson rolled his eyes. ‘Again, I can only confirm that we will be interviewing a person who has come forward with information relevant to this incident. But I’m afraid we won’t be able to disclose any details at this time.’

  ‘That’ll be my friend!’ Elaine giggled, looking around proudly. ‘The woman I was telling you about!’

  ‘Ssshhh!’ Wendy hissed again.

  ‘. . . When we have followed up this and other leads that we have, we will issue a more comprehensive statement.’

  ‘Thank you, Detective Chief Inspector.’

  The screen flicked back to the evening shot of Liz Jardine outside the supermarket.

  ‘That was the situation this morning, just hours after Mr Singh was murdered. I can tell you that the police have now completed their interview with the eyewitness – who cannot be named for security purposes—’

  ‘Which means they’re taking her seriously,’ said Ged.

  ‘Mmmm.’ Mal nodded sagely. ‘Pigs love wallowing in shit!’

  ‘. . . And details of the statement are being thoroughly investigated.’

  Mal leaned forward in his seat suddenly, pointing at the screen. ‘The fucking shop’s open!’

  Ged craned forward. ‘It bloody is, as well!’

  ‘Money-grabbing bastards!’ Lee shouted, jumping up excitedly.

  ‘Will you bloody well shut up!’ Wendy glared at him.

  He sat back down, muttering, ‘But they are. Look. You can see the lights are on.’

  ‘That could just be the police clearing up,’ Suzie suggested.

  ‘It’s not, though, is it?’ Mal snapped indignantly. ‘You can see the cunts going in and out.’

  ‘. . . Keep you updated as we receive information,’ Liz Jardine said, concluding her report. ‘Back to you in the studio, Declan.’

  Mal jumped up and turned the TV off.

  ‘Top banana!’ Lee cackled. ‘We’re well and truly off the hook!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Elaine looked puzzled.

  ‘Shut your gob, Lee.’ Ged shot him a look. He pushed his chair back, looking at his watch. ‘It’s nearly half-six. Time we made a move.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Mal rubbed his hands together. ‘Back to mine for a party, then?’

  ‘Not you, Sam,’ Wendy said, getting to her feet. ‘You can stay here with me for a bit, then you can go home and see to your kids!’

  They followed her back to her bed, delighted to find the baby fast asleep in her plastic cot. They all rushed over to her – except Wendy, who tutted loudly and climbed into bed.

  Sam looked down at his little girl for the first time since the awful birth. ‘Oh, she’s beautiful,’ he whispered, smiling, with tears glistening in his eyes.

  ‘If you’re just going to go all soppy, you might as well go now!’ Wendy snapped.

  ‘Aaahhh!’ Elaine cooed, sticking a podgy finger into the baby’s curled fist. ‘She’s g
orgeous. Can I have a hold?’

  ‘Right, that does it!’ Wendy’s face was livid. ‘Piss off, the lot of you!’

  ‘Ah . . . Wend,’ Lee moaned. ‘I want to have a look at the baby. Can’t I wake her up and have a hold?’

  ‘Piss . . . Off!’ Wendy growled, closing her eyes to show she meant it.

  They left quickly after that, knowing it would do no good to hang around, the mood Wendy was in. Only Elaine tried to hang back, and found herself being hauled away by Lee before she had her head bitten off.

  Outside the main doors they huddled around Mal, blocking the wind so he could light the huge five-skinner spliff he’d made for them in the toilets. Sam was on a downer about Wendy’s attitude towards the new baby, but he cheered up when Mal handed the spliff to him, and they headed back to Mal’s flat, deep in excited discussion about the news report – ignoring Elaine’s constant questions: ‘What do you mean? Why are you celebrating? Why is it good news? I don’t understand . . .!’

  At the same time, Stevo was making his escape. Hiding in the shadows of the garages beneath his flat, he nervously scanned the car park and the small adjoining play area. The last thing he needed was to be spotted as he made his dash across the open grass to the line of pirate taxis parked alongside the pub at the end of the road. If he could just make it that far without being seen, he might stand a chance.

  When he was sure there was no one about, he pulled the brim of his baseball cap down low over his shades and lunged out into the night. Switching the hastily packed bag from hand to hand, he fled across the grass, praying to God he wasn’t being watched. Every window in the flats behind him felt like a pair of eyes whose stare was burning into his back. But he couldn’t stop now. This was a matter of life or death.

  It seemed to take for ever before he reached the taxis, but at last he made it. Wrenching the door of the first one open, he fell onto the back seat and gasped, ‘Piccadilly Station!’

  ‘Five,’ the driver, a wrinkled, yellow-eyed Jamaican, grunted over his shoulder.

  ‘Cool,’ said Stevo. ‘But put your foot down, yeah? I’m in a real hurry!’