A Gangster's Grip: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 2

by Heather Burnside

  “Alright!” he snapped. “I’m just checking.”

  “He must have been held up. Maybe he’ll be here tomorrow. Why don’t you give him a ring in the morning and find out when he’s coming?”

  “Oh yeah, I hadn’t thought of that,” he replied sarcastically.

  He pulled the lace curtain to one side, taking a last look before returning to his armchair, and was rewarded by the sight of Leroy’s shiny BMW roaring up the street. The sound of the high-powered engine caused a few curtains to twitch, which always made Ged swell with pride.

  “He’s here,” he announced.

  Ged turned away from the window, his facial expression changing to one of joy, with the frown lines melting away. He was at the front door before Leroy had reached the end of the path.

  “Jesus, you’re keen, aren’t you?”

  “Always keen for my favourite son-in-law,” quipped Ged. Before Leroy could react, he added, “Well, almost son-in-law … you know what I mean.”

  Leroy stepped inside the house, wearing a look of contempt. He threw two loaded bin liners down on the floor while Ged rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  “Ooh, let’s have a look,” said Ged, tipping the bags up and kneeling down to rummage through the contents.

  When he had worked his way through both bags, he stood up, disappointed. “There’s no kids’ ones; I asked you to get me some kids’ ones!”

  Leroy reacted angrily, thrusting his chest out and pulling his shoulders back, as he shouted, “You what?”

  “I told you, the kids’ ones are selling like hot cakes down the pub. Some of these won’t sell; you’ll have to go back.”

  “Are you having a laugh? You’ll get what you’re fuckin’ given! This is all top gear.” He grabbed at the video tapes and shoved them in front of Ged’s face, one by one, as he named them, “Die Hard 2, Pretty Woman, Home Alone, Dances with Wolves. Haven’t you heard of any of these, you moron?”

  Leroy was a picture of undisguised aggression, with the tendons straining in his broad neck and his eyes bulging. Noting his threatening manner, Ged tried to placate him, “Alright, alright, I don’t mean any harm. Yeah, course I’ve heard of them. I might not be as switched on as you, Leroy, but if you say they’re top gear, I’ll take your word for it.”

  Leroy wasn’t finished, “Do you realise the risks I take to get you these? It’s not like taking a trip to Asda, you know! Not that I get any fuckin’ thanks.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realise. These’ll do. I’ll have a go, and see if they’ll shift.”

  Ged nervously scooped up the video tapes and other goods, putting them back inside the bin liners.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “I ain’t had chance to work it out yet. Them popular ones are gonna fetch more. You know, Ged, you wanna get hold of the Evening News or summat, and have a look what films are out. You’re clueless, man.” Sitting himself down, he added, “Pass me the bags and we’ll sort it now, and I wouldn’t mind a beer while you’re at it.”

  Joan trotted off to the kitchen to fetch a can of lager from the fridge, which they kept available in case Leroy should call. Meanwhile, Leroy lit up a spliff and instructed Ged to arrange the goods into piles so they could count them out. He also made suggestions to him as to which were likely to be the best sellers, and should therefore be charged at a higher price.

  Joan returned with the can of lager, and handed it over to Leroy.

  “How are Jenny and the baby?” she asked.

  “What you talkin’ about, woman? There is no baby, not yet anyway.”

  Ged knew she was trying to smooth things with Leroy, knowing how proud he was of the fact that he was about to become a father. But she was making matters worse. What a stupid question to ask when he’d just calmed him down!

  For the next twenty or thirty minutes Ged hovered precariously, worried in case Leroy lost it again. He’d heard about his reputation but this was the first time he had encountered it first hand, and the man was scary. He couldn’t get his head round the way Leroy had gone from zero to raging bull in a matter of seconds, and it made him worry about who he was dealing with. Thankfully, once the cannabis had kicked in, Leroy calmed down and they settled the deal.

  “Thank Christ for that!” he said to Joan once Leroy had left.

  “I know, I couldn’t believe it. Do you think something’s upset him before he came here?”

  “I don’t know, but one thing’s for sure; he’s got a hell of a temper. I thought he was gonna have me for a minute. He was alright once I’d managed to calm him down though.”

  “It’s worrying though, Ged. D’you think our Jenny will be alright with him? I hope he doesn’t lose it like that with her.”

  “She should be. It’s not as if he loses it all the time, is it? Like you say, something probably upset him before he came here … I think with people like Leroy, you’ve just got to know how to handle them, keep ’em calm.”

  “Maybe we should have a word with her, and warn her.”

  “Eh, don’t you be sticking your oar in. It was bad enough when you started going on about bleedin’ babies. What a daft thing to say! You nearly got him going again.”

  “I didn’t mean any harm. I was just trying to make normal conversation, take his mind off the videos.”

  “Well, in future, leave it to me.”

  “Will you have a word with Jenny then?”

  “If you want.”

  Ged had no intentions of having a word with Jenny, but it wouldn’t do any harm to let Joan think otherwise. It wasn’t worth the risk. What if it got back to Leroy that he had been sticking his nose in? No, if Jenny had any sense, she’d know how to play things with Leroy. Besides, everyone knew that you didn’t go interfering in other people’s relationships.

  Chapter 12

  Tuesday 9th April 1991 - lunchtime

  Rita and Yansis had returned from Blackpool the previous day. One of Rita’s first questions to Julie and Vinny was whether she had received any phone calls while they had been away. Julie reassured her that there hadn’t been any, and that everything had been quiet.

  Julie had taken the Tuesday off work. She assured Rita that all her bookkeeping was up-to-date, so they agreed to go into Manchester and have a look around the shops. It was a long time since Rita had been shopping with her best friend, and she was looking forward to it.

  They parked Julie’s car in the Arndale carpark and had a good walk round. Julie had taken the buggy because she knew that Emily’s little legs would tire after a while. After exploring some of the fashion shops, they passed Boots the chemists, and Rita said, “I’ve just remembered, I need to nip in there for something.”

  “Go on then. I’ll wait outside and push Emily up and down till she goes off to sleep. She’s getting a bit cranky.”

  After a few minutes Rita came out of the shop.

  “What did you treat yourself to?” asked Julie.

  Rita opened her handbag a little, and edged open the Boots’ polythene bag to reveal a tube of Lanacane cream.

  “I take it you had a good weekend then?” asked Julie, giggling.

  “You could say that. At least I was feeling a bit more up to it, once I’d got away from all the problems. He’s worse than ever though.”

  “Maybe you should set some ground rules; limit him to so many times a week or something.”

  “No, it would only hurt his feelings, and it’s a bit of a touchy subject at the moment. I just have to hope that bloody hospital appointment soon comes round, so we can get everything sorted.”

  “Ooh look,” said Julie. “Emily’s nodded off at last. Come on, let’s go and grab some lunch, and have a good chinwag before she wakes up again.

  -------------------

  Saturday 13th April 1991 - evening

  Carl was on the Buckthorn Precinct, selling drugs in the darkened shop doorways. He had picked a spot that was renowned for drug dealing. The shopping precinct was set back from the main
road, and remained unlit once the shops had closed for the night. Although he knew that he could have stayed closer to home, there was more money to be made down the Moss. And things were going well since Leroy had been getting the new supplies of heroin from Cheetham Hill. The druggies couldn’t get enough of it.

  Moss Side was so well-known as a drugs base that it brought in plenty of custom, and the money he could make here would have taken him three nights in Longsight. He therefore considered it well worth the ten minutes it took to reach there by car.

  He spotted a couple walking along, and homed in on their naivety straightaway. They were looking around, cautiously observing the young lads that rode around on mountain bikes. Their body language couldn’t have spelt out apprehension more clearly, unless they had been carrying a giant placard with the word emblazoned across it. Carl grinned as he watched them twitch and stiffen every time the lads came within reach of them. He could tell they were definite first timers to Moss Side, who didn’t have a clue where to go, so he decided to make himself known.

  It was a quick and easy sale, and once the drugs and money had exchanged hands, the couple were on their way back to the main road. Carl called over the lads that had been circling around on their bikes. He knew them, of course.

  “Hurry up, you bunch of dicks, before they’re gone. Did you see them? Yeah? Right … same as before, and I want it all back.”

  The lads hastened after the couple, eager to carry out his instructions. They were new recruits to the Buckthorn Crew, anxious to please the older gang members, and eventually command the same level of respect and earnings. Carl knew they wouldn’t let him down; they knew better than to cross an established member of the Buckthorns. Nevertheless, he wanted to check and make sure. Aside from that, he derived a certain pleasure from his latest side-line.

  He hurried after the lads, and was just in time to see them in action. They had surrounded the couple with their bikes and, as Carl approached, he could see the gestures of the lads as they made demands from the couple. For a moment it looked as though the man was going to play the hero, but the sight of a blade soon changed his mind. The woman started screaming.

  Carl was now within twenty metres of them, and her screeching was loud enough to reach him. He was relieved when one of the lads jumped from his bike, grabbed her from behind, and forced his hand across her mouth to muffle the sound. Carl continued to approach, keeping himself hidden, until he could hear what was taking place.

  “Shut your fuckin’ screeching or he cops for it,” said one of the gang, prodding the knife into the man’s side. “Just hand over the drugs and we’ll let you go.”

  The knife hadn’t drawn blood; they were just a few warning jabs, enough to make him co-operate. As the man reached into his pockets to recover the drugs, his girlfriend’s fear overwhelmed her. A torrent of urine gushed down her thighs, splashing the pavement, and soaking both her shoes and those of the lad who was restraining her from behind.

  He jumped back and yelled, slapping her across the face, “You dirty bitch! These are my new trainers. You’ve ruined ’em.”

  His friend stashed the drugs inside his coat, and they leapt on their mountain bikes and sped away to the sound of the woman’s distressed cries. Her partner was trying to comfort her, holding her close to him with trembling arms.

  Satisfied that they had carried out his instructions without getting caught, Carl made his way back to the shop doorway where he knew they would expect to find him.

  “Nice job lads,” he said, when they handed the drugs back to him. “Now, do a couple more for me tonight, and I’ll see you straight later … Oh, and Mikey?” he called, just as they were heading away.

  Mikey turned around in response, and they all waited to see what Carl had to say.

  “Try not to get piss all over your trainers next time,” sniggered Carl, and the other two lads laughed at his cruel joke.

  Later, Carl went to meet Leroy in a shebeen, one of Moss Side’s illegal drinking dens.

  “You have a good day?” asked Leroy.

  “Tops, man, look at this,” boasted Carl, showing Leroy a wad of notes, “and I’ve still got loads to sell tomorrow night.”

  “How d’you manage that?”

  A smug grin spread across Carl’s face, “Recoveries, innit?”

  In response to Leroy’s look of confusion, he explained how he sent the three young lads on mountain bikes to recover some of the drugs he had just sold to unsuspecting customers. He stayed hidden so the customers didn’t realise his involvement, and they therefore thought they had been victims of an unconnected mugging.

  “You sly bastard,” said Leroy, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

  “That’s not all. You should have seen what happened to this couple. The woman was going fuckin’ hysterical, so Mikey put his hand over her gob to shut her up. Her boyfriend was a bit cocky, so they showed him the blade just to let him know who was boss, and she pissed herself, man, all over Mikey’s trainers.”

  They both thought this was hilarious. Carl accompanied his laughter with thigh slapping gestures, and wanted to embellish the story while he had Leroy’s rapt attention.

  “They were his new Nikes and all. He was well pissed off – ha ha, pissed off!”

  The laughter continued, but suddenly there was a change in Leroy. As his laughter subsided, he flicked Carl’s face. It was a slow, calculated motion. “Hey, best not do too many of them recoveries, man. We don’t want the punters to stop coming.”

  Carl flinched, surprised by Leroy’s change in temperament as much as the slight sting to his face. “OK, I won’t … God, man, I only did three or four! It’s no big deal. The punters don’t even know it’s me; the Moss has always been full of muggers.”

  “Fuckin’ shut it!” Leroy commanded.

  An instinct for self-preservation told Carl to avoid saying anything that might annoy Leroy even more. Then, as though regretting his outburst, Leroy added, in a lighter tone, “Just do as I say, man, and everything will be cool.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Carl replied.

  “Another thing,” said Leroy. “You and Winston are gonna have to start dealing in Longsight.”

  “Longsight, why?”

  “It’s ’cos of the H; it’s gettin’ too risky. None of the other Buckthorns are gettin’ hold of much heroin now. The fuckin’ MSC has got it all stitched up. If anyone hears we’re shifting loads of the stuff down the Moss, there’ll be trouble. The rest of the Buckthorns will want to know where we’re gettin’ it from. If we stick to Longsight, no-one will know what we’re up to. They’ll just think it’s another crew that’s sellin’ it.”

  “I won’t grass.”

  “I know, it’s not about that. They’re bound to know summat’s wrong.”

  “But there’s not as many punters in Longsight.”

  “There will be; you gotta give it time. Word will soon get round.”

  “But that could take ages.”

  “Did I say you had a choice?”

  Carl knew when it was best not to push his luck, so he had to accept Leroy’s orders, even though he wasn’t happy about it. In the charged atmosphere that followed, Carl struggled for something else to say. He observed Leroy cautiously, wondering how to play him, and was relieved when he saw Mad Trevor walking over with two other members of the Buckthorn Crew.

  As Carl had now been with the Buckthorn Crew for several months, he knew all the gang members. Although he worked closest with Leroy, there were many times when the gang worked together, for instance, when they had a score to settle with a rival gang.

  The Buckthorn Crew didn’t have a leader as such. Each of the members looked after his own business interests, but they all took advantage of their gang connections to give them access to supplies of drugs and weaponry. There were also members who had extended interests, such as Leroy, who used other people to sell drugs and stolen and counterfeit goods for him, and then took a mark-up from the profits.

  Des
pite the lack of an appointed leader, certain members of the gang were regarded as natural leaders. These were the hard men who struck fear into anyone who came into contact with them, and commanded respect. Leroy and Mad Trevor were typical of this type of gangster. Their reputations were well-known both within the gang and outside it.

  Both Leroy and Mad Trevor were rumoured to have killed men in the most vicious means imaginable. When Carl had been told by another gang member, in graphic detail, about one of Leroy’s particularly ruthless killings, he hadn’t believed it at first. Then another gang member had confirmed it, and he had first-hand knowledge, having been a witness to the violent scene. The more Carl got to know Leroy and his rapid mood changes, the more he became convinced that he could be a cold-blooded killer.

  Leroy and Mad Trevor never came into conflict with each other; instead they maintained a cordial camaraderie, as though aware of the dangers of any disagreement. They each had their reputation to protect at all costs.

  Carl watched Leroy switch back to his affable persona as he greeted the other members of the gang. He observed the two dominant figures, Leroy and Mad Trevor; big, brutal and each with an inherent mean streak, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the outcome would be if anything should ever happen to damage the delicate bond that connected them. Something as phenomenal as trading with known enemies of the Buckthorn Crew would be one such instance that could cause devastation.

  Once the gang members had finished greeting each other, they settled down to discuss business.

  “How’s things?” asked Leroy. “Is Tony OK?”

  Tony was a member of the Buckthorn Crew who had recently run into problems with a member of their rival gang, the MSC. Leroy had heard about him being attacked, but didn’t yet know the full details. Mad Trevor enlightened him.

  “He’s not doing too bad, but the bastard gave him a good smacking and fuckin’ kneecapped him. And all because he eyed up his woman.”

  “They’re not getting away with that. We need to sort it.”

  “I know. That’s what we’re here to talk about. We know who did it, and we know where he lives and hangs out.”