by Luke Delaney
‘Ubana, you slag,’ he screamed for everyone to hear. ‘I know it was you. I know it was you who told them where they could find me. I know it was you who set me up. You’d better open this fucking door or it’ll be a lot worse for you later.’
His demands were met with silence. Ubana held her fourteen-year-old daughter close as they cowered inside, wiping the girl’s tears away and humming to her gently the way she had when Nakiya was a young child awaking from a nightmare.
‘Open this fucking door,’ King screamed again as he jammed his ASP through the gaps in the metal grids over the downstairs windows and began to systematically smash the panes of glass. The acoustic boom as they first imploded was followed immediately by the tinkling sound of thousands of pieces falling to the floor, making Ubana and her daughter flinch and whimper as they held each other closer against the threat of the madman outside. ‘You can’t hide from me forever, you fucking bitch. You live on this estate – you deal with me. You live on this estate – you pay me.’
Once all the windows were smashed he beat the front door relentlessly with his ASP until exhaustion finally slowed and then stopped him. He waited a few seconds until enough breath returned before shouting one last threat.
‘You’re a dead woman, Ubana. You’re a fucking dead woman.’ He kicked the door once through the grid and stormed off back along the walkway to Kelly’s maisonette where she stood waiting for him at the front door. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back inside, slamming and locking the door behind them.
‘Fucking hell, Jack,’ she warned him. ‘That was Josh Campbell you just beat the shit out of – the oldest brother of the family. They ain’t just gonna sit back and do nothing. They’ll come after you now. They have to.’
‘I know who it was,’ he answered. ‘Fuck the Campbells. You think I’m afraid of them?’
‘And Susie’s connected,’ she ignored his question. ‘Everyone knows she’s connected. She ain’t gonna just do nothing. She’s gonna try and make things bad for you, Jack.’
‘Then I need to be ready,’ he said – lost in the belief of his indestructability. ‘Give them something they won’t be expecting. They think they’re dangerous. I’ll show them what dangerous really fucking means.’
‘There’s too many of them,’ Kelly reminded him. ‘They’ll keep coming.’
‘They’re just cowards,’ he told her, pulling out his mobile and speed-dialling a contact. ‘Once they know how far I’m prepared to go they’ll back down.’
‘What are you talking about, Jack?’ she asked, her voice cracking with concern. ‘Listen to what you’re saying – it’s madness. You can’t go to war with the Campbells. You wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘You can’t, Jack,’ she insisted. ‘Let’s just run. Let’s run now. Maybe if you move to a different police borough or even a different force they won’t come after you. Maybe they won’t find you.’
‘No,’ he barked at her. ‘Not yet. I can’t leave yet.’
‘Why?’ she pleaded. ‘Because you’re afraid to leave this shithole of an estate? There’s nothing worth anything here. Nothing worth dying for.’ He held up his hand to silence her as his phone call was answered.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?’ Scott asked cheerfully.
‘I need your help,’ King told him without ceremony.
‘You sound like shit,’ Scott said – serious now. ‘You all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ King lied. ‘I just need you to do something for me.’
‘Such as?’
‘You still got that piece of paper with the address on it I gave you?’
‘Yeah,’ Scott assured him. ‘I’ve still got it.’
‘I need you to bring me a gun to that address.’
‘You fucking what?’ Scott asked – almost laughing at the madness of the request. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No,’ King told him. ‘No I’m not. I need a firearm – a handgun – and I need it now.’
‘Jesus Christ, Jack. What sort of trouble are you in?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
‘If you need a handgun to handle it then I’d say whatever shit you’re in, you’re in over your head. Where are you now?’
‘On the estate I told you about. At the address you have.’
‘Is that where you’re in trouble?’
‘Could be,’ King answered.
‘Then get the fuck out of there,’ Scott demanded. ‘If you can’t go back to your flat, get round to my place. You’ll be safe there until we can work something out.’
‘I can’t do that, Scott,’ he insisted. ‘I don’t want you getting involved.’
‘And how is getting you a gun not getting involved?’ Scott asked.
‘I just need you to do that one thing for me,’ King pleaded. ‘Just drop it to me and go. No one will ever know. I’ll take care of everything else myself.’
‘Jesus, Jack,’ Scott told him. ‘I can’t get hold of a gun.’
‘Don’t give me that shit,’ King said. ‘You’re in the fucking army – an officer in the army. Book one out of the nearest armoury and get it to me. I can do what I’ve got to do and get it back to you before anyone even knows it’s missing. The police don’t have a record of military weapons to compare ballistic records to. Even if it gets used no one will ever know. I need that gun, Scott.’
There was a long silence before Scott spoke again. ‘OK,’ he finally agreed, ‘but I’m not even in London. Give me about two hours and I’ll meet you at the address. Just stay safe till I get there.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ he reassured him.
‘Jack,’ Scott told him. ‘I’ve been worried about you for a long time. I’m not about to stop now.’ King pressed the end call button without replying.
Kelly was on him immediately. ‘A gun, Jack? A bloody gun? What you going to do – shoot them all?’
‘It won’t come to that,’ he promised. ‘I’ll give them a fright and they’ll back off.’
‘No they won’t,’ Kelly told him mournfully. ‘And nor will you.’
‘I need to go somewhere,’ he explained. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so.’
‘Where?’ she asked.
‘Just somewhere,’ he answered. ‘I need to clear my head – work out what I’m going to do.’
‘Can I come?’
‘No,’ he insisted. ‘I have to do this alone.’
‘What if the Campbells come back? What am I supposed to do?’
‘They’re not interested in you. It’s me they want. If it makes you feel better, go stay with a friend till I get back. Or here,’ he told her, pulling a rolled-up wad of cash from his pocket and handing it to her. ‘Go shopping or something. Get yourself into the West End and treat yourself.’
‘Shopping?’ she asked in disbelief. ‘You want me to go shopping? Now?’
‘For fuck’s sake, Kelly,’ he snapped at her and made her jump – the black pools of her eyes threatening to well over. ‘I don’t care what you do. I just need to get my head straight. Just for a couple of hours. Damn it, Kelly, I’ll see you later.’ He closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. ‘I just need a little time and keys. I need keys to get in if you’re not here when I get back.’
‘Take mine,’ she told him, grabbing her set from the side table and handing them to him. ‘I’ve got a spare set somewhere.’
‘Thanks,’ he told her as he turned and headed for the door before her voice stopped him.
‘Jack,’ she called out. ‘You will come back, won’t you? You are coming back?’
‘Of course,’ he reassured her without knowing if he was telling the truth or not – the siren who’d led him to physical pleasures he’d never experienced before suddenly looking like the little girl lost she really was. ‘Of course I’m coming back.’
‘I love you,’ she blurted out, taking a step towards him before freezing, afraid she would only chase him
away.
King tried to find the words to answer her, but they all just swirled around in his head before becoming stuck in his throat. Eventually he said the only words he could push from his mouth before fleeing for the door and the world outside. ‘I’ll see you later, Kelly. I promise. I’ll see you later.’
Susie Ubana surveyed the damage King had caused to the windows of her maisonette as her daughter began to sweep the thousands of glass shards from the floor. They moved silently and carefully, only talking in whispers for fear of his return and wrath. Ubana shook her head as she considered her next move – her business forgotten as all her thoughts turned to her daughter’s safety.
The girl looked up from the floor at her mother and spoke. ‘He’s not coming back, is he, Mum?’ she asked. ‘He’s not coming back to get us?’
‘No,’ Ubana reassured her – struggling to speak as a lump formed in her throat. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ She left her daughter sweeping glass and headed for the front room, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply before calling a number on the phone she’d been gripping since King had first hammered on her front door. The phone was answered within two rings.
‘Susie,’ Marino greeted her informally – like someone who’d known her a long time. ‘You got something for me?’
‘It’s King,’ she told him. ‘He’s completely out of control, Frank. He’s just smashed in all the windows at the front of my house – says I set him up with the Campbells.’
‘And did you?’ Marino asked, making Ubana pause before answering.
‘Christ, Frank, I talked to them,’ she admitted. ‘I had to. He was muscling in on my business – which means he was muscling in on their business. I had to tell them. If I didn’t they would have thought I was skimming from them.’
‘Jesus,’ he sighed, knowing she was right. ‘I understand.’
‘That’s not all,’ she told him.
‘I’m listening,’ he encouraged her.
‘Josh Campbell and one of his heavies came looking for him.’
‘And?’
‘And they found him.’
‘Where?’
‘With Kelly Royston,’ she explained. ‘In her flat.’
‘Kelly Royston?’ Marino questioned. ‘Bloody hell – please tell me he’s not involved with Kelly Royston.’
‘Been spending his nights there. You can take from that whatever you want.’
‘This is getting worse by the second,’ Marino complained.
‘Listen, Frank,’ she warned him, ‘that’s not the worst of it. When Josh came looking for him King somehow got the drop on them – used gas or something. He beat the shit out of them. You don’t do that to Josh Campbell and walk away. They’ll find him, Frank. Your man’s in serious fucking trouble. I warned you this was gonna happen. You should have just turned him in to Internal Affairs and let them deal with it. They could have saved him from himself.’
‘I couldn’t do that,’ he admitted. ‘He was a good man. A good copper. I had to try and bring him back. I had to.’
‘Well he ain’t no good any more,’ she told him, sounding sad, ‘and if you don’t find him before the Campbells he won’t be anything.’
‘You think they’d hit a cop?’
‘As far as they’re concerned he’s not a cop any more,’ she warned him. ‘He’s fair game.’
‘Shit,’ Marino cursed. ‘Where is he now? Still on the estate?’
‘No,’ she answered. ‘I saw him taking off in a patrol car.’
‘D’you know where to?’
‘No,’ she told him. ‘Why don’t you have your people look out for the car he’s using? They’d find him soon enough.’
‘No,’ Marino disagreed. ‘He’s probably monitoring his radio, even if he’s not answering it.’
‘You’ve tried?’
‘Yeah, I’ve tried,’ he told her. ‘I’ve been trying to catch up with him since I got into work this morning.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Something else already happen?’
‘You could say that,’ he admitted.
‘You gonna tell me what?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘It’s irrelevant now anyway. Most important thing is to find him.’
‘And how you gonna do that?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘That’s my problem.’
‘You’re not still trying to solve this on your own, are you, Frank?’ she asked. ‘Not still trying to give him a chance?’
‘That’s up to me,’ he reminded her sharply. ‘If he turns up back on the estate you just remember to call me straight away. Understand?’
‘I understand,’ she assured him before hearing the line go dead. She let the hand holding the phone fall into her lap – looking at it and speaking as if Marino could still hear. ‘You’re too late. You can’t save him. Gone too far for that now.’
King opened the door and stepped into the cool interior of the flat. This place seemed to belong to another life now, one that had ended long ago, although he couldn’t sense how long. A life that had had a long-term future – one that offered stability, a lasting relationship, a career, a family and something like love. But also one that could never make him feel the way he felt when he walked the estate like an emperor or how he felt when he was inside Kelly – watching her move, inhaling her scent. Yet surrounded by the trappings of his previous existence he suddenly felt melancholy and anxious − for the first time he realized he’d gambled everything on something that he could never really have. All the things he’d given up his life for, the crack, the cocaine, the cannabis and even the serenely beautiful Kelly, were things that merely offered short-term escapism from the reality of the moment, without offering any sort of future other than violent death at the hands of organized crime or a long, slow destruction by the ravages of hard drugs.
He began to wander around the small flat, picking up photographs of himself and Sara she hadn’t yet cleared away or thrown in the bin. He looked happy in the photographs, relaxed and confident – content with his lot and what the future with Sara promised. As he looked away he caught a reflection of himself in a mirror that made him freeze. He looked much older than his twenty-four years – pale and tired – every line and contour of his face showing the signs of stress his new life had brought. The anxiety of living on the edge had etched itself into the very fabric of his face. It had felt so good – even beating the crap out of Campbell and his hired muscle only minutes ago had felt good − but now, standing in the middle of his old comfortable life, he just felt exhausted. He’d become a hamster on a wheel – forever running just to stand still. He’d burnt too brightly and now the darkness was coming to swallow him. He swept the framed photographs from the sideboard and sent them crashing to the floor where the glass frames broke apart like the pieces of his life – tearing and ripping at the pictures they used to protect. But somehow one remained undamaged. One of him with Sara shortly after he’d been discharged from hospital. He bent and picked it up from the floor, lifting it close to his face. Its difference from the others was striking and he realized that he’d already changed forever at that point. The incident had already changed him forever – long before the estate – long before Kelly and the drugs, Astill, Ubana and the Campbells. That day had robbed him of who he used to be and shattered any chance of living the ordinary life he’d thought was his right. The ghosts of that day were never going to stop haunting him – were always going to chase him into the dark world he now lived in. They would drag him towards the abyss and watch him throw himself over the edge. Only the memory of the girl he’d saved shone enough light in his nightmares to show him the way back from a self-inflicted eternity of darkness. Standing alone in his flat, suddenly aware it had all been made a lie since the incident, that it was a life he could never have had, he began to desperately want it – for things to be the way they had before, although in his soul he knew it was too late. Since the madman had slaughtered his own family, it had been too late for him. He wa
s too numb and lost to feel his own tears running down his face until the sound of the front door being closed made him spin around.
‘Sara,’ he smiled, wiping tears away with the back of his hand.
‘What do you want?’ she asked coldly as she walked deeper into the flat – looking at the smashed pictures on the floor. ‘Come to destroy the flat like you’re destroying yourself?’
‘I just wanted to see you,’ he told her. ‘I’ve made some terrible mistakes.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘Last time we saw each other you made it very clear how you felt about me. There’s no way forward for us, Jack. It’s over.’
‘I didn’t know what I was saying,’ he pleaded. ‘I was fucked up.’
‘Jack,’ she sighed. ‘I think you should just leave. I want you to leave.’
‘We’re good together,’ he ignored her. ‘I just lost my way, but I can fix everything. I just need some time.’
‘No you can’t, Jack,’ she said. ‘You can’t fix this. I waited long enough, but you just kept pushing me away. I’ve met somebody else. I’m sorry.’
‘I don’t care,’ he pleaded. ‘I can fix anything. I just need you to believe me.’
‘No, Jack,’ she raised her voice. ‘Now you need to leave.’
Again he ignored her – slumping onto a kitchen chair to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere. ‘I’ve done bad things, Sara. I’ve really fucked up.’
She wanted to push him away – drag him from his chair and throw him out of the flat – but her feelings for him still ran deep. She didn’t want him back, but she wasn’t ready to completely exile him from her life either, not while he was wounded and hurting.
‘You in some sort of trouble, Jack?’ she asked softly.
‘Trouble,’ he laughed through his pain. ‘I’m in more than trouble. I’m on the fucking edge here.’
‘What’s going on, Jack?’ she pushed. ‘What the hell’s happened to you? Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,’ he explained, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘Going back to work. Going onto the Unit – it was supposed to make me feel like me again … but it didn’t. I couldn’t get those … thoughts out my head.’
