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

by Heather Burnside

  At the same time, Leroy was cautious; that was why he hadn’t asked Winston and Carl to this meeting. They knew too much about his other operations. Instead, he had made excuses for them, and let Mad Trevor believe that he preferred it if this celebration was for the more senior members of the Buckthorn Crew.

  They had picked this club for a reason. It was a place frequented by prostitutes who would help them continue their celebrations well into the night. Leroy and Mad Trevor were sitting in an alcove with another two Buckthorn Crew members who were already occupied with the local girls. They had several pints of lager on the table, and the smell of cannabis hung in the air.

  “We sorted the MSC good and proper,” said Mad Trevor, who then paused to take a drag of his joint. “Fuckin’ bonus to take out two of the Cheetham Crew as well, innit?”

  “Dead right.” Leroy tried to muster some enthusiasm. He was relieved that he had suggested the masks, insisting it would protect them in case any witnesses were brave enough to come forward. Secretly, he hoped that one of the two men wasn’t his contact, not that he held him in high regard, but it would impinge on his heroin supplies.

  “They’re gonna come back at us after this. Best make sure we’re ready for ’em.”

  “I know that,” said Leroy. “We’ve gotta make sure we’re always armed and don’t go to the same clubs all the time.”

  “They might team up now and try and hit us together.”

  “It don’t matter. We can still take ’em, man. The MSC are clueless anyway. They’re not organised. Most of ’em are kids.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, we’ll be ready.” Raising his can of lager, Mad Trevor announced, “To the Buckthorn Crew, the top crew in the Moss.”

  Leroy responded by raising his can, and the dense clink of metal on metal could be heard as they bashed them together. This caught the attention of the other two gang members, who briefly joined in before returning to the girls’ ministrations.

  When Mad Trevor had exhausted the subject of gang warfare, he eyed up some of the girls who had been circling him and Leroy. The local girls knew of their reputations as members of the Buckthorn Crew, but they also knew about their willingness to spend large amounts of money when they were celebrating. Many of the girls were attracted to Leroy for the same reason Jenny had been. As well as having physical appeal, he could be charming and charismatic when he wanted. There was also a certain kudos in being linked to one of the prime gang members. Leroy looked around at the swarms of willing girls, and knew that he was in for a good night. And if the mood suited him, he might even extend his celebrations over a day or two.

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  Saturday 18th May 1991 - evening

  Jenny knew she was taking a risk; Winston shouldn’t be here with her, but what else could she do? She had to see him, and there was nowhere else they could go but her home.

  “It’s OK,” Winston assured her, when she began fretting. “I’ve told you, Leroy’s out celebrating with Mad Trevor. I know how these things go. They’ll be out all night at least.”

  “God, I hope so,” said Jenny.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t stay that long, just in case.”

  They were lying in Jenny and Leroy’s double bed, half-naked. It was unusual for them to take such a risk, but they had given in to temptation because of Winston’s knowledge of Leroy’s whereabouts. Now though, as the heat of their passion died down, Jenny was losing her nerve.

  “Let’s get dressed and sit downstairs, in case he comes back early.”

  “If you want, but there’s no reason why he should.”

  “You never know with Leroy,” said Jenny. “He might have a row with the other lads and storm out.”

  “Alright then, but we’ll still have to think of summat to tell him if he comes in. I can’t say I came looking for him when I know where he is, can I?”

  “OK, we’ll think of something. What are they celebrating anyway?”

  “A raid.”

  “What kind of raid?”

  “Do you really want the details, Jenny? It’s not good. I’m surprised you ain’t seen it in the news.”

  “What?”

  “The pub shootings.”

  “Jesus, you’re joking!”

  Jenny had seen the newspaper reports but hadn’t linked them to Leroy as a perpetrator. Despite all she now knew about him, she was still in denial to an extent. It was ironic that she’d been more concerned about him being a victim of the raid. But if he was carrying out this type of thing then there was no doubting that he was a full on gangster. She found it hard to accept that he could boldly walk into a pub full of customers and shoot people down. No matter who they were and what they had done, it didn’t make it right.

  “No, it’s true. They went to get the MSC.”

  “You weren’t there, were you?”

  “No, thank God! Leroy reckons I ain’t got the bottle for it. That’s why he didn’t invite me tonight; he said I don’t deserve to celebrate. Suits me though. You know I’m not into all that kinda stuff.”

  “I’m glad you’re not like that, Winston,” said Jenny, stroking her cheek against his bare chest. “Thank God we’ll soon be out of it. Only eight weeks now till the baby’s due, then we can sod off to Greece. I can’t wait. You never know, it might even come early.” She was enjoying cuddling up next to Winston but before she got carried away, she said, “Come on, we’d best get downstairs.”

  Jenny shuddered as she pulled back the covers, although it was warm in the bedroom. She knew that the chill that ran down her spine was nothing to do with the weather; it was the fact that Winston’s words had emphasised the fear that now stayed with her constantly.

  Chapter 23

  Saturday 25th May 1991 – late evening

  The man approached Carl, his face pale, gaunt and covered in blemishes. Carl recognised a repeat customer when he saw one, and was pleased that word was spreading in Longsight. Despite his desperate appearance, the man surprised Carl by his insistence on examining the goods before making a purchase.

  However, Carl was used to dealing with junkies and treated them with the contempt he felt they deserved. He knew he had the upper hand. Most of them were so eager for their next fix that they didn’t put up much of a fight. It didn’t stop a few of them trying it on though. Dealing in Longsight also gave Carl an added advantage, because there wasn’t the level of competition from other dealers that there was in Moss Side.

  “You’d better come away from the main road if you want to look at them. I ain’t risking being fuckin’ pulled just ’cos you’re being awkward.”

  He led the man down an alleyway, where he held open a bag of smack for the man to examine. The darkness of the alleyway made it difficult to see the drugs but, nevertheless, the man objected.

  “It’s a bit pale innit?”

  “That’s ’cos it’s good stuff,” said Carl. “None of that shit you get down the Moss. You can tell it’s quality by the colour. Don’t you know nowt?”

  “Yeah, course I do, but a mate of mine bought some from Longsight and he said it was a bit iffy.”

  Carl pulled the bag away from the man. “Right, fuck off. I’m wasting my time with you. If you don’t know good stuff when you see it, then go and find some other shit. I reckon your mate must have been so out of it he can’t remember where he got the stuff from. All my customers know this is the best …”

  Carl walked away as he continued his tirade, knowing he wouldn’t get very far. It was obvious the man was in withdrawal, and wanted his fix as soon as possible. It was therefore unlikely that he would spend ten minutes driving to Moss Side to find another dealer.

  “Wait! OK, maybe my mate got it wrong,” said the man, as he dashed after Carl.

  Not all of his customers were so awkward to deal with. Most of them weren’t concerned with the colour. Maybe they suspected the heroin was mixed with something else but they were past caring; as long as it satisfied their cravings, they were content.


  Although custom had increased in Longsight over the last few weeks, Carl’s income still didn’t compare to what he had made previously in Moss Side. He realised that a good proportion of his earnings came from sales of heroin, and Leroy did have a point about the risk of selling it down the Moss. Nevertheless, Carl felt bitter about the loss of income, and the way in which he always had to take orders from Leroy.

  Tonight, in particular, his festering resentment was in abundance, because Leroy had arranged for him to meet his suppliers in Cheetham Hill. That meant that Carl had to finish selling early, on one of the busiest nights of the week. Why Leroy couldn’t have organised it for another night, or day, he didn’t know, but when he had questioned him, he had turned nasty again. Still, at least he was making extra money from the skimming, and that thought gave him a warm glow, knowing he was getting one up on Leroy.

  Carl jumped in his white BMW, and dropped his remaining drugs and cash at home before setting off for Cheetham Hill. He would be calling to see Leroy as soon as he had collected the drugs, so he thought it prudent to keep his own supplies separate.

  As it was late evening, the roads were quiet until he reached the centre of Manchester. He could have taken a right turn after Piccadilly Station and skirted around the city centre, but he decided to take in the buzzing Saturday night atmosphere. It was a mistake. Drunken revellers packed the streets, which slowed down his progress. He revved his engine in annoyance to disperse the drunken hordes who littered the roads.

  Eventually he hit Deansgate, a busy stretch of road dating back to Roman times. Here the revellers mixed with the theatre crowd as the popular Opera House and Royal Exchange theatres were nearby. He guessed that a show must have finished at the Opera House, as crowds of well-dressed people were coming out of Quay Street. He had just passed the John Rylands neo Gothic library, heading towards the end of Deansgate in the direction of Cheetham Hill, when he noticed a few familiar faces, and his stomach lurched.

  Standing outside a popular Deansgate bar were Mad Trevor and three other members of the gang. Carl was too late to do anything about it. What could he do anyway? He was in the driver’s seat; he could hardly duck. As he sped past, he knew that one of the gang had spotted him.

  That was all he needed! Having to explain himself to Mad Trevor and the others wasn’t going to be fun. To tell them he was out clubbing wouldn’t be convincing when he was in the car on his own. The fact that he had driven past the busy stretch of bars and clubs wouldn’t help either. As he turned off Deansgate, he tried to think of an excuse he could give as to why he was driving through the centre of Manchester at ten o’clock on a Saturday night.

  During the rest of his trip to Cheetham Hill, the thought occurred to him that it was unusual for members of the gang to be out in Manchester. But then he surmised that everyone had a night off now and again. Perhaps they fancied a change from the Moss. They might have even been checking out the other gangs that operated in the city centre. He’d have to mention it to Leroy and see what he thought.

  While these thoughts were running through his head, he hit on a good reason for his presence there. He could say he had gone to pick Debby up. The silly cow had got herself in a state mixing her usual drugs with too much booze, and he had gone to fetch her home. He was circling around looking for somewhere to park when he had passed the lads. Hopefully, they would fall for that one; after all, everyone knew what a nightmare the one way system was.

  Once Carl was back in Longsight, he called at Jenny’s home, as Leroy was expecting him.

  “Who’s that at this time of night?” Jenny shouted from the living room, where she was watching television.

  “No-one for you to worry about,” Leroy replied. He then led Carl upstairs and checked through the drugs he had bought, to make sure everything was in order.

  “Nice one,” he said, giving Carl a hearty slap on the back.

  Carl decided that it would be best to broach the subject of Mad Trevor and the other members of the gang straightaway, as it was playing on his mind. To his relief, Leroy didn’t seem fazed by the situation at all.

  “They go up to Manchester now and again. They like to flash the cash and impress the girls. I think it gives Trev a buzz if he can pull a bit of class. Whatever turns you on, I suppose. I couldn’t be doing with some snobby bitch looking down her nose at me. Still, they usually shift some gear while they’re in town, so it’s a win, win for them. Anyway, mate, if anyone asks, just stick to your story about Debby getting pissed and you having to pick her up. I’ll back you up on it.”

  “OK,” said Carl whose relief was turning to suppressed rage. It was easy enough for Leroy just to back him up on his story, but he was the mug taking all the risks. He left Jenny’s house as soon as possible. He didn’t want to give Leroy a chance to see the anger in his eyes; it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his ill-feeling hidden.

  After the events of the night, Carl was glad to arrive home. Although it was late, he counted his earnings before he went to bed. There were two reasons for doing it at this hour. The first was that he would be comparing his takings to the drugs he still had, and he didn’t want to do that when the kids were around. The second reason was because it always gave Carl a thrill to find out how much money he had made.

  Tonight he was disappointed when he counted his takings. For a Saturday night, even in Longsight, it should have been much more. But it didn’t help that he had had to spend part of the night driving to Cheetham Hill. He was also aware that a portion of his earnings had to go back to Leroy. In the early days, he had been happy with this arrangement, but now it angered him. What was Leroy’s justification for his cut if he wasn’t buying in the drugs? Carl was the one meeting with the suppliers.

  He drew comfort from the fact that he still had a decent supply of drugs left, thanks to the skimming, so his profit margins were good in terms of the amount of drugs he had sold. What use was that, though, if he didn’t have chance to shift the stuff? He had a good mind to start dealing in Moss Side again, and to obtain his own drugs direct from the suppliers. That would teach Leroy a lesson!

  But he wouldn’t do any of those things; he was too afraid of Leroy’s temper, and he knew that the repercussions would be more than he could handle. Throughout the process of counting and bagging up the money, Carl’s face contorted with rage and he cursed Leroy repeatedly.

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  Sunday 26th May 1991 – early afternoon

  Rita and Jenny were sitting side by side in the back of Vinny’s car, with Yansis driving. As soon as they had picked Jenny up, on the way to her parents’ house, Rita had switched from the front passenger seat to the rear, to be next to her. Rita wasn’t looking forward to this visit. Ever since her argument with her father, relations had been strained. She had visited her mother several times since then, but had rung her beforehand to make the arrangements. By doing so, Ged would find out she was coming and would make excuses not to be there.

  Now though, they were out of excuses. Her mother wanted to have Sunday dinner with them all seated round the table together, just like old times (with the exception of John who was away in the army). It was a sweet thought, but Rita knew that the occasion would be about as sweet as a bottle of vinegar.

  There was bound to be a bad atmosphere once she and her dad were sitting near to each other. Aside from that, she was worried about Jenny letting something slip. Jenny had already told her that Leroy wouldn’t be there, so Rita wanted to make sure that this didn’t lull Jenny into a false sense of security. The last thing Rita needed was for her mother and father to find out about her plans, which was why she was having a discussion with Jenny in the car.

  “Right, listen to me, Jenny. You’re not to say a word to my mam and dad about you and Winston coming to Greece. Right?”

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve already said.”

  “I mean it, Jenny. You’re probably not going to like what I’m gonna say now, but my dad can’t be tr
usted where Leroy’s concerned. If he finds out anything about our plans, he’ll tell Leroy. He’s frightened to death of him, for one thing, but he’s a bit too bothered about protecting his own interests as well.”

  Rita expected Jenny to put up an argument to defend her father’s reputation. After all, Jenny had always had a much better relationship with him. However, she accepted Rita’s instructions without comment, and Rita surmised that Jenny was perhaps more aware of their father’s failings than she let on.

  “Don’t tell my mam either, because no matter how much she promises not to say anything, she tells my dad everything. Even if she doesn’t want him to know, he’ll get it out of her. OK?”

  When Jenny didn’t reply, Rita repeated her question more loudly, “OK?”

  “Yeah, OK.”

  “Right, well that’s that sorted. Don’t forget, act as normal as possible.”

  Rita was satisfied that she seemed to have got through to Jenny by the time they reached their parent’s house. The effort that her mother had made was touching. She had already set the table when they arrived, and decided where everybody would be sitting. Joan had allocated the space at the head of the table for her husband, and the place at the other end for Yansis.

  “You don’t have to do that, Mam. You should sit there; Yansis won’t mind,” said Rita.

  Secretly, she was relieved as it meant that she would be seated next to Yansis, with her mother acting as a buffer between her and her father. On the table for six, Jenny would sit on the other side of her father, opposite her mother, and there would be an empty seat opposite Rita where Leroy would have sat if he had attended the meal.

  “Yansis is our special guest all the way from Greece,” said her mother, “so I thought it would be nice for him to sit at the end of the table.”