by Conrad Jones
“Fuck that,” Ron said, shaking his head. “That is quality gear not the shit we get. We’ll get top dollar for that. They won’t have a clue who hit them. You worry too much.”
“One of us needs to worry.”
“Everything will be fine, my friend. I feel like we have squared things up a little bit but I’m not finished yet.”
Henry and Patrick were sitting outside the Mason Security building. Patrick watched vans arriving through night vision glasses. The gates had been repaired and they slid open as another van arrived. Roller shutters clanked open on the main building.
“What are they up to?” Henry asked.
“They are unloading vans and putting it into another one.”
“Are they now?” Henry chuckled. He reclined his seat and closed his eyes. “Wake me up when they have finished. This could be a long night.”
29
ADE BURNS
ADE SENSED the change in Braddick as soon as he returned to the table. His expression was dark and moody. Ade felt drunk and vulnerable. He had definitely overdone the vodka. If his inspector started pecking his head, he wasn’t in any position to respond. He couldn’t risk dropping the ball now. Luckily, Braddick was being harangued by the woman sitting next to him. She was more pissed than Ade. It was obvious to everyone on the table that she had the hots for Braddick. She was making a fool of herself but was too pissed to realise it. Braddick was clearly not interested. He was politely answering her questions, the epitome of professional but he had one eye on the Karpovs all the time. Ade watched as Sergei Karpov took a phone call. It was obviously bad news. Something had happened. His face looked like thunder. He turned to Yuri and whispered in his ear. Yuri screwed up his napkin and threw it on the table angrily. They both stood up at the same time and gestured to their minders. The other guests at the table looked concerned as they quickly shook hands, said their goodbyes and headed for the door. Braddick stood up and thought about following them but the Chief Constable was walking towards him. He summoned Braddick over to him and Ade watched as they made for an empty table and sat down. Ade was glad to see the back of him.
“Do you want another shot?” Irina had returned. Her eyes were smiling. “I noticed that your boss is busy,” she winked as she filled up his glass again.
“Thanks,” Ade said, trying to speak without slurring.
“You’re very welcome.”
“I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Me too.”
“What time are you finishing work?”
“Ten minutes,” she smiled. “I’ll be on the front steps if you want to walk me back to my hotel. We’re staying across the road in the Holiday Inn. I have my own room.”
“I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes,” Ade said, beaming from ear to ear. “Bring a bottle with you. It will keep us warm on the way back to the hotel.”
“I was kind of hoping that you would do that,” she teased. “See you outside.” She winked again, more exaggerated this time and then turned and walked away. Irina swung her hips to let him see what he was getting later, looking over her shoulder, she flicked her hair seductively. Ade smiled and congratulated himself inside. His smile was fixed to his face. He caught Braddick’s eye and made a thumbs up sign. Braddick nodded, unaware of his sergeant’s success. The Chief Constable was still bending his ear about something or another. Quite frankly, Ade didn’t give a shit. He stood up and felt sick. Ade waited for the dizziness to pass. Braddick stared at him, suspicion in his eyes. Ade made a cutting gesture across his throat and pointed to the door to let Braddick know that he was leaving. Braddick nodded and waved briefly. He didn’t look happy but so what? At that moment in time, Ade only had one thing on his mind. He wobbled a little as he made his way towards the door, handed in his coat ticket and walked to the steps. The wind was blowing off the river so Ade pulled his coat on and fastened his buttons.
Irina was leaning against one of the columns. She had a fur lined parka on but Ade was delighted that she still had her maid’s uniform on beneath it. He walked towards her, hoping in his mind that he didn’t get too turned on too quickly. She was half his age, pretty, sexy and dressed in stockings and a maid’s outfit. He was scared that he would cum in his pants as soon as she touched him. A few more vodkas might slow things down a little, numb the parts that other drinks can’t reach. It was either that or running the Istanbul European Cup winning squad through his mind. He wasn’t sure that he could do that sober, never mind drunk. As far as problems to solve went, it was up there with the best ones.
“Hi,” Irina said, smiling. She waved a bottle of Sipsmith vodka in her hand. “Sorry, I know it isn’t your favourite but it was the only one that I could get.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Ade said. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Her lips were full and shiny and he wanted to kiss her full on the mouth but thought that it might be more gallant to wait until they got to her room. Once they got to the room, all gallantry would be forgotten. It had been a long time. Too long. “It’s cold out here. Shall we head to your hotel?”
“Let’s go,” she said, linking his arm. Ade felt happier than he had in years.
YOUNG RONNY MASON stared at his phone. He had a million notifications on Facebook. His family had been messaging him constantly, trying to get information about what had happened in Holyhead but all he could say was that he was with his dad and that he would be back when everything had calmed down. Ignoring his family was simple enough. They all took the piss out him anyway. The only time that they spoke to him was when they wanted something or to take the piss again. They could all go and take a flying fuck. He wasn’t bothered what they did or what they said but the text message from Alex had sent his head into a spin. Alex wanted to see him.
Alex had messaged and asked him to go over to his house. He loved seeing Alex. Alex was the closest thing to a relationship that he had experienced. The opportunity to see him was too good to miss. Big Ron and Rickets had gone out in the car and told him not to call anyone or to go out. They treated him like a child. Alex lived about twenty miles away on the edge of the city and Ronny knew the bus route like the back of his hand. He had been there many times before. The first time that he went there was as an errand boy for Eddie Farrell while he was still at school. He had gone there to drop off a parcel, which he later found out was full of drugs. It was one of the first times that he realised that it wasn’t just a phase that he was going through, he was sexually attracted to men. Especially older men. It had been an epiphany. Alex was pushing forty then but Ronny was blown away every time he saw him. He would blush and stutter whenever he saw him. Over the next few years, Alex was kind to him and didn’t take the piss and Ronny had a massive crush on him. He never expressed his feelings. The thought horrified him. He was happy to worship him from afar.
Then one day it had happened. They had been searching online for the answer to something to do with the origin of a phrase. It was a naval reference. Something that he couldn’t even remember anymore. Alex had left the room to make a drink and Ronny looked on his browsing history. He was shocked and thrilled that most of it was gay pornography. Alex had come back into the room before Ronny could exit the history and they both knew then that they had the same interests. Although they were friends, for Alex, it was just casual sex with a younger man with no strings attached. It meant much more to Ronny. Ronny would have moved in with Alex in a heartbeat but that was never an option. They both flew beneath the radar, neither wanted to come out to their families and friends. Alex kept the relationship going because Ronny was discreet. He had to be, he was Big Ron Mason’s son. For Ronny, it was different. He was ensconced despite the fact that Alex would only message when he wanted sex. The sex was quick and one sided. Alex would get what he wanted, which was usually oral and then make excuses as to why Ronny had to leave. Ronny was always left hanging, unsatisfied but every time Alex messaged, he went running. Sometimes they talked about things before but not often. Ronny took what he
could get, enjoying the time when it was on offer. He hadn’t heard from Alex for over a week and after all that had happened, his message had made his heart skip a beat. He needed a break and he needed to be away from the farm. It had also made him horny. Very horny. Ronny stared at the message and thought about it. He could be there and back within a few hours, maybe less. Forty minutes on the bus, less than ten for the sex and then forty minutes back to the farm. He added it up in his head. Maths wasn’t his strong point. Ninety minutes. That was over an hour but less than two. Actually, it was an hour and a half. He was sure. There was no way that Big Ron and Rickets would be back by then. They were never back before the early hours of the morning. He replied to Alex, put his phone into his pocket and ran upstairs. Alex replied straight away. Ronny ran into his bedroom. His towel was still damp from the day before but he needed a shower before he went to see Alex.
Ade sat on the bed and smiled at the ceiling. Irina had been everything that he could imagine and more. She had been eager and excited. He felt rejuvenated, attractive and virile. She certainly knew her way around a man’s body. There was no doubt about that. She was catapulted to the top of his all-time best fuck list and the night wasn’t over yet. He downed the vodka that she had given to him before she went to use the bathroom. It burned as it slipped down. He heard her running the taps and brushing her teeth. She sounded like she was talking to someone too. He thought about asking her who it was but decided to leave her to it. She was cleaning her teeth. That was a nice touch. Some of his exes didn’t brush their teeth from one day to the next. Irina was different. She was different in every way. Her tits were magnificent, false but magnificent. They defied gravity. As for the rest, he had nothing to compare her to. The other women that he had been with were not even in the same league. She was perfect. The way she moved, the way she felt beneath his touch, the way she breathed and moaned as he moved inside her. He loved her accent, her voice, her perfume, the scent of her body. Everything about her was perfect. He closed his eyes, suddenly very tired. In fact, he was exhausted. His muscles felt drained. He opened his eyes and felt his vision blur and his head spin. The nausea hit him like a bus. The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened. There she was, silhouetted against the light. A vision of ecstasy. A vision that darkened at the edges and then warped, like the image in a funhouse mirror. He saw her phone in her hand and then heard a knock at the door. His lips quivered when he tried to speak. He wanted to ask her what was going on but nothing came out. She opened the door and two huge figures entered the room. They spoke in a foreign language, Russian he was sure. He knew that he was in grave danger but there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. His heart raced as the men approached and their shadows loomed over him.
30
Sergei looked up at the swollen face of Leonid Ivankof. The stench of decomposition hung heavily in the air. Yuri stood next to him. The muscles in his jaw twitched.
“Get him down from there and get rid of the body,” Sergei ordered his men. “Make sure that he cannot be found.” He turned to Anna. “Was anyone hurt?”
“My staff are badly shaken but they will be okay.”
“Will they talk?”
“I have spoken to them. They won’t say anything.”
“Make sure that they don’t.”
“I don’t want the police involved, understand?” Yuri added.
“Of course.”
“Did you recognise any of them?”
“No but the man who was giving the orders was black and he had funny shaped legs.”
“Funny how?”
“Bowed.”
“There can’t be many men fitting that description. He shouldn’t be too hard to track down,” he said, turning to one of his men. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, Sergei.”
“Find out who he is.”
“Yes, Sergei,” the man said, turning and taking out his mobile.
“Did he say anything that would help us to find him?”
“He asked a lot of questions, Sergei.”
“Questions about what?”
“He was asking about drugs.”
“Go on.”
“He kept asking about where my employers would stash a big shipment of drugs.”
“Did he indeed?”
“And he mentioned something about zombie.”
“Zombie.” Sergei raised his eyebrows in surprise. He looked at Yuri. Yuri watched Anna intently. “And what did you tell him, Anna?”
“He threatened to kill me, Sergei.”
“Of course he did. He wanted you to talk.”
“I told him about the Pristine site.”
Yuri and Sergei exchanged glances. “Make sure your staff get a decent bonus. I want this kept quiet.”
“Sergei.” A man approached. “The black man with misshaped legs. He works for a guy called Ron Mason.”
Yuri nodded and smiled. “Eddie Farrell’s cousin. So, he has obviously worked it out.”
“Obviously,” Sergei agreed. “I’m not concerned about Mason. He is nothing but a Neanderthal. We will keep him in his place.”
“Poor old Leonid,” Sergei said as the body was taken down. “He was interrogated before he died. I wonder what he told them.”
“He didn’t know anything worth knowing. He was door security, nothing more.”
“They returned him to us. Let’s repay the favour,” Sergei said, thoughtfully. “We need to silence all of our little rats for a start and then thanks to Anna here, we know where they will be going to next. We will give them the welcome that they deserve.”
31
Young Ronny Mason knocked on the door, nervously looking around as he waited. The journey had taken five minutes more than he had anticipated but he was excited and eager to please Alex. He waited a few minutes and then knocked again. There was still no reply. The property was rented by one of his companies and he used it when he had business in the UK. Ronny remembered that Alex sometimes sat in his conservatory at the side of the bungalow, reading and listening to music. He couldn’t hear a thing when he had his music on. He walked to the side gate and peered over. The conservatory was empty and the lights were out. Ronny walked back to the front door, his hands were in his pockets and he kicked at the doorstep with his trainers while he mulled over what to do. He took out his phone and messaged Alex that he was at the front door. There didn’t seem to be any lights on anywhere inside the house. He was beginning to think that Alex had gone out when he heard the door being unlocked. He smiled and his heart began to beat faster as the door opened but it faded when he saw the muzzle of a gun pointing at his head.
“You must be Ronny?” the man said. “Step inside. I’m sorry but Alexei is a little tied up at the moment.”
Braddick stepped out of the lift and came face to face with two uniformed officers. They nodded hello and looked sheepish. There were no words when something like this happened.
“Have you cleared this floor?” Braddick asked.
“The last room has just left.”
“Where is he?”
“That way, Sir,” one of them said, pointing down the corridor to his right. It was typical hotel decor, neutral colours and random prints on the walls, repeated every fifty yards or so. Braddick could see a detective from the Vice Squad and two members of his MIT standing outside of a bedroom door. They all looked tired and dishevelled, their sleep interrupted by an urgent incident. He walked towards them, warning voices echoing around his mind. Half of him wanted to run to see what had happened, the other half wanted to run the other way so that he couldn’t. This could not be happening. Not now, not never. The detectives saw him coming and stopped talking. Their faces said all that he needed to know. He had seen that haunted look too many times before not to know what it meant.
“Morning, guys. I won’t say good because it isn’t.” Braddick turned to a young DC, whose name he couldn’t remember. “Why is vice here?”
“The woman’s ID flagged
up a previous, Guv. She was a brass, part of a ring that was busted last year. They were run from saunas on Smithdown Road. It was a Russian operation.”
“That is no surprise. Okay, what have we got, Pete?” Braddick asked flatly. He directed the question to one of his sergeants from MIT.
“It’s not a pretty picture,” the sergeant sighed, with a shake of his head. He pushed open the door and stepped back for Braddick to enter. Braddick felt his nerves tingle. He looked around. The familiar smell of death clogged his senses. The hotel room was a mess, clothes were strewn everywhere. A stiletto lay on its side in the bathroom doorway next to a black sock and a discarded towel. Ade’s trousers had been tossed over the arm of a chair, a pair of dark boxer shorts still inside as if they had been removed in one motion. The matching dinner jacket was crumpled beneath them, his wallet protruding from the inside pocket. A handbag lay open on the bedside table. He recognised the female from the charity function at St George’s Hall. She had given out vodka at their table; a lot of vodka, especially to Ade. Braddick hadn’t given her a second thought at the time. She had been flirting with Ade but he figured that she was fishing for a tip or a sugar daddy. He didn’t think that Ade would be the right man for either job. The room had been booked in her name, which surprised Braddick. He took a step forward and looked closely.
Her arms were tied to the bed above her head with her own fishnet stockings. Red welts circled the wrists where she had struggled to escape. Three of her false nails were missing from her right hand. She had put up a fight. There was blood congealed around her nose and her mouth hung open at an awkward angle, indicating that her jaw was broken. Her eyes were open, dull and staring. She seemed to be looking at Braddick, pleading for help, asking why did he does this to me? He shifted position so that she wasn’t staring at him anymore. There was a bruise on her forehead and her eyes had blood spots at the corners. The bruising around her neck was dark and deep and uniform. Something had been wrapped tightly around her throat and then removed post mortem. Her thighs were apart, the knees bent slightly. He moved closer to see the soft flesh inside her legs and could see more bruising there. Sticky fluid glistened on her skin. Finger marks lined the outside of her thighs. Whatever had happened had been rough.
