‘I understand,’ Jack assured him. He could see from the determined set of Derek’s gaze that he meant it.
‘You must have really hacked someone off to do that to you,’ Chris said to Jack.
‘Some guys were trying to get protection money from a pub landlord,’ he explained. ‘I was silly enough to get involved when I should have called the police. I’ve lost everything. My job, my girlfriend, my dignity. And I’ll probably be evicted from my house soon, too. I have nothing to lose.’
‘We have nothing to lose, either,’ Derek said. ‘We made the mistake of buying a snooker hall. Seemed like a bargain at the time. Now we know why. Before we could even open for business, they tried squeezing us for protection. Dosh we just didn’t have. They left us with no option but to fight back, the vultures. We should never have roped our friends into this and I don’t know how I’ll live with myself after this is over.’
Chris said, ‘Me, neither.’
A short silence followed. Nobody knew what to say. So Jack spoke up.
‘Right, we’ve got the intro’s out of the way. Now can we get down to business? What’s your plan of attack? Are you going in there with your guns blazing, or have you thought of something I haven’t?’
‘I was hoping you’d know what to do,’ Derek said.
‘I’ve already snuffed one of them,’ Jack said. ‘You should have seen the surprise on his face when I drove my knife through his gut. Anyone would have thought he’d seen a ghost.’ He didn’t think it prudent to mention about cutting Gerard’s face off. Didn’t want to scare his new allies.
‘You’ve killed one of ‘em?’ Chris said. ‘Cool! What’d he look like?’
‘Big bald guy, wide as an outbuilding. Name's Gerard.’
‘Was he covered in tattoos?’ Derek asked.
‘Yeah,’ Jack said. ‘Sound familiar?’
‘I’m pretty sure he’s one of the arseholes that’s been terrorising us. Has he got two buddies? One ginger and the other with more gold on his fingers than a Mack Daddy?’
Jack said, ‘That’s them, yeah.’
‘How’d you manage that?’ Chris asked.
‘Let’s just say an opportunity presented itself and I took it,’ Jack said. He steered the conversation in a different direction by adding, ‘Where did you get your guns?’
‘A friend got ‘em for us,’ Chris said.
Derek said. ‘The guns haven’t been tested, but there’s no reason they shouldn’t work.’
‘You don’t even know if they work?’ Jack said.
‘We’ve only had ‘em since yesterday,’ Derek said. ‘And they do tend to make a bit of noise when you pull the trigger.’
Smiling and shaking his head, Jack said, ‘For our sakes, let’s hope they’re not duffens. I’ll try dry-firing one, see what happens. Uh-oh, heads up, we’ve got movement.’
A blue Mitsubishi Warrior drove towards them, then pulled up at the gates, headlights sweeping the street as it turned.
‘We don’t want people going in,’ Chris said, ‘we want ‘em coming out.’
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘I know.’
####
With an electric hum, the gate began to swing inwards. Revving the engine, McCarthy willed it to open quicker. If he was in for a bollocking he wanted it over and done with. He hoped it was just a bollocking and not something more severe. He was ready for the worst. Ready to take whatever was coming. Even if it meant propping up a flyover.
When there was a wide enough gap, he wheel-span the Warrior up the driveway and skidded to a halt outside the mansion.
‘Who do you think could have done that to Ger?’ Quinn said.
McCarthy scowled at him. ‘How many times have you asked me that? And how many times have I told you I DON’T KNOW!’
‘All right, keep your hair on,’ Quinn chuckled. ‘I’m sure we won’t lose face over this. Get it? Lose face?’ He chuckled again.
‘I can’t believe you’re joking around after what’s happened.’
‘Well, you’ve got to laugh, haven’t you?’
‘No.’
After searching the house for five minutes, they found Byron relaxing in his four-poster bed, reading an Ian Rankin novel. He was sitting propped up with a dozen or so cushions behind him. Incense sticks were smouldering on the window sill, filling the bedroom with a musky smell.
‘Things don’t seem to be going well lately, do they?’ he said.
He turned a page. Didn’t look up from his book.
McCarthy glanced at Quinn, who shrugged.
‘We’ll pull it together, boss,’ McCarthy said. ‘We always do.’
‘What were you doing while Gerard was in the toilet having his face cut off?’ Byron asked. ‘Were you drinking? Getting sozzled?’
Quinn shook his head. ‘No, we were putting the frighteners on the landlord, trying to make him cough up.’
‘Really?’ Byron said, putting the novel aside. ‘So you weren’t getting drunk? No alcohol touched your lips? Are you fucking sure about that? Think before you answer.’
‘Eh … we … er, I might of had a quick one,’ Quinn muttered.
Reaching beneath the covers, Byron pulled out a gun and put a bullet in Quinn before he could protest. With a shocked look on his face, he sunk to his knees. Fell sideways. Blood trickled from his mouth, onto the white Persian carpet.
‘I can smell it on him,’ Byron said. ‘The odour offends me more than the lying.’
McCarthy braced himself for a bullet. ‘I warned him not to do it,’ he said. ‘I never drink on the job; you know that. Here, you can check my breath.’ He stepped over Quinn. Walked towards Byron.
‘Stop!’ Byron said, putting a hand up. ‘The last thing I want is you breathing on me, thank you very much. I’ll take your word for it. Only because I like you, though. You’re one of my most valued men, you know that, don’t you?’
McCarthy nodded.
Byron said: ‘You’ve always served me well and helped enhance my reputation as a hard bastard who doesn’t take any shit, haven’t you?’
Nodding again, McCarthy straightened up like a soldier under inspection.
‘So what’s gone wrong recently?’ Byron asked. ‘Why so many mistakes?’
McCarthy’s shoulders slumped. ‘I really don’t know, boss. All I can do is promise I’ll do better from here on in. There won’t be any more mistakes. I’ll make sure there are no more.’
‘Yes, yes, you do that. In the meantime, get rid of the body. Look at the mess on my lovely carpet. It’s ruined! I only had it fitted last week.’
‘I’ll clean the blood off and order a new one in the morning.’
Debbie entered the room. Dressed in a see-through negligee, she walked casually past Quinn’s body, then snuck under the covers and cuddled up to her beloved.
‘Been having some troubles, have we?’ she asked Byron, looking up at him, batting her eyelids.
‘I hate it when people fail me,’ he said.
‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘I never liked him anyway. Such a lech. Always following me with his eyes, he was. Good riddance.’
####
As Sarah came to, all that filled her vision was Henderson’s face. A split-second of disorientation seized her. She didn’t know where she was, or how she got there. Flat on her back, with him on top of her. Then she remembered and that sense of doom washed over her again. Stronger this time. Grinning and sweating, Henderson pumped away, his thighs slapping against hers. A rhythmic beat.
‘Who’s the daddy!’ he said.
He leaned forwards. Bit down on her nipple. Sarah let out a shrill cry, so he put his hand over her swollen, bloodied mouth.
‘Now I really am going to cut your tongue out when we’re done,’ Henderson said.
His eyes were wide. Wild with frenzy.
Collins strolled through to the kitchen. Returned with a tea towel. Knelt beside Sarah. Rammed it in her mouth. Looking up at him with beseeching eyes, she tried to appeal to whatev
er conscience he might have. None, apparently, as he stood up and disappeared from view. Sarah didn’t struggle. Turning her head, she just laid there, thinking: it’ll be over soon – God, please let it be over soon.
Henderson kept going for a few minutes, sweat glistening on his forehead. Then he screwed his face up. His body went taut as he pursed his lips together like he was puckering up for a smooch.
‘Utterly fabuuuulous!’ he said, his eyes rolling up into his head. ‘Who’s the dadddddy!’ A soppy smile spread across his face. ‘There, see what you’ve been missing.’
Sarah began to sob. She didn’t want to. She wanted to remain strong and retain as much of her dignity as possible, but she couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
‘Are we done now?’ Collins enquired, checking his watch.
‘No!’ Henderson replied. ‘I haven’t even started yet.’ He turned his attention back to Sarah. ‘How did you like my good loving, wench? I bet that’s the best you’ve had in a long time, isn’t it? Probably the best you’ve ever had.’
Sarah turned her head to the side. Couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
He punched her in the face with a wide, arcing hook. Her nose erupted, cartilage snapping, blood spurting.
‘How do you like that?’ Henderson said. ‘How do you like that, wench?’
He wound up to deliver another haymaker, but Collins grabbed him by the arm and said, ‘That’s enough now; you need to finish this.’
‘Get off me!’ Henderson said, shrugging him away. ‘I’ll be done when I’m done. Get me a knife from the kitchen. A sharp one. Little miss fabulous here is going to be a work of art by the time I’m done with her.’
‘This is crazy,’ Collins said. ‘Utter lunacy.’
‘I know,’ Henderson said, ‘it’s great, isn’t it? Get me a knife!’
Collins stormed towards to the kitchen. He returned with a knife, then handed it to Henderson, who showed it to Sarah. ‘Which part of you shall I cut off first?’ he said. ‘Or shall I just ram it up your filthy cunt and gut you like a fish?’
Sarah tried to scream, but couldn’t. The tea towel was wedged securely in her mouth. She tried to wriggle out from beneath him. It was no good, though. He weighed too much and she couldn’t muster the strength.
‘You really think you’re something, don’t you?’ Henderson said. ‘You really think you’re a beauty queen with that slap on your face. You’re not that attractive, you know. I’ve had better.’ He ran the blade’s tip up her cheek, towards her eye. ‘I’m going to take this tea towel out and you’re not going to scream. Not a sound, not a murmur. Got it?’
She nodded. He removed it.
'Now you've had me,' Sarah said, struggling to breathe, 'does that mean that you'll … you'll leave my father alone?'
'You weren't going to let me in, sweetie,' Henderson said, 'so what do you think? For that little stunt, we're going to raise his protection money. I'll call by the restaurant on Friday for the first payment. You can explain to your old man why it's doubled.'
'But he can't afford the payments as it is,' Sarah gasped. 'That's why I said I'd sleep with you. We had an agreement – you can't do this!'
'Ooooh yes I can,' Henderson said. ‘Open your mouth.'
Sarah did as she was told. Then she screamed.
‘You fucking whore!’ he said, slicing the side of her face open. He raised the knife again, but Collins grabbed him from behind. Yanked him up and off.
‘What are you doing?’ Henderson said to him.
‘That’ll have woken the whole neighbourhood,’ Collins said. ‘Kill her, or I’ll do it myself.’
‘She’s mine!’ Henderson said.
Lunging forwards, he let go with a fist. Collins stepped back, out of range. Henderson lost his footing. Tripped over Sarah. He fell sideways, pirouetting with a shocked look on his face. Reaching out, Collins tried to get hold of him, but didn’t react in time. As Henderson went down, he cracked his head on the coffee table. The sound of bone meeting oak made Collins wince. The knife slipped from Henderson’s grasp as he hit the carpet.
‘Oh shit,’ Collins said. ‘Oh crap.’
Clambering away, Sarah seized her chance and let go with an ear-piercing scream. Blood was gushing down her face. She tried to stem the flow by putting her hand over the cut, but it did no good. She felt hot liquid ooze through her fingers. The front of her dressing gown was soaked. This made her scream even more.
‘Shut up!’ Collins yelled, pointing his weapon at her. ‘Shut your bloody hole!’
Sarah heard a door open. People talking.
‘You’re done for now,’ she said. She pulled her robe around her, securing it. ‘You better go, while you still can.’
Henderson was face down. Out cold. Going to him, Collins holstered his gun inside his jacket, then turned him over. Gave him a few slaps across the cheek. Sarah moved in for a look, too. Henderson’s eyes were wide open, pupils un-dilated.
‘Come on, Heno,’ Collins said. ‘Wake up!’
‘Oh dear,’ Sarah said, her voice trembling, ‘is he dead? What a shame. Such a loss.’
She couldn’t tell if Henderson was breathing. His chest wasn’t rising and falling. Collins knelt down next to him..
‘Come on,’ Collins said, giving him a shake. ‘Wake up! Time to go!’
Hearing footsteps in the corridor, Sarah said, ‘Sounds like the cavalry is here. You better scoot, while there’s time.’
The front door opened. A man and a woman entered. Sarah recognised them as the guy from apartment 4 and the lady from 6. They looked at Sarah, then Collins, then Henderson’s lifeless body.
‘What’s going on here?’ the guy from 4 said to Sarah. ‘What’s happened to your face, love?’
The woman nodded towards Collins, then Henderson's prone body. ‘Did they do that to you?’
‘Ye-yes,’ Sarah stuttered. ‘Yes they did.’
‘I’m calling the police,’ the guy from 4 said, producing a mobile from his pocket.
Springing to his feet, Collins swept past him and was gone before anyone could react.
####
Standing as far back in the cupboard as he could, Nelson lined himself up to kick the door. He focused on the lock, sure that if he hit it enough times it would give way. So far, a dozen or so kicks hadn’t done the trick. Maybe a dozen more would. One step, two steps … BAM! The door remained shut, the lock un-weakened.
He’d searched for something he could use as a jimmy, but found nothing. Derek and Chris had removed everything remotely useful, it seemed. Boxes of shoes and old clothes: that’s all Nelson could find. Grrr! He wanted to head-but someone. Settled for the door instead.
‘You’re not going to keep me in here!’ he raged. ‘You are NOT going to keep me in here!’
He heard movement behind the door. Voices.
‘Who’s there?’ Nelson said. ‘Derek? Chris? Is that you?’
‘Stand back,’ someone instructed. So Nelson did.
He recoiled as the door burst open.
And then he was staring down the barrel of a gun. That was the last thing he saw.
####
‘In the movies, they distract dogs with raw meat,’ Chris said.
‘Number one,’ Derek said, ‘this is not the movies. Number two, where the hell would we get raw meat at this time of night?’
‘It was just an idea,’ Chris said.
‘Enough talk!’ Jack blurted. ‘Let’s get over that wall. There’s no other way.’
He went to get out of the car, but Derek put a hand on his shoulder and said, ‘Wait, look, someone’s coming out.’ He pointed towards the gate, which was opening. ‘It’s the Warrior that went in earlier. Shall we follow?’
‘We don’t know who’s inside,’ Chris said.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Jack said. He fired the Astra up. Pulled out.
Derek said, ‘Stay far enough back that they won’t suspect something, but not too far or yo
u’ll lose ‘em. There’s hardly any traffic about, so it’ll be a lot easier to get noticed.’
‘I know what I’m doing,’ Jack said.
The Warrior took a left, another left, a right, then headed out of the city.
‘Where d’you think they’re going at this time of night?’ Chris asked.
‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Jack said.
‘Maybe they’ve got a body in the back,’ Derek said jokingly. ‘Looking to dispose of it under cover of darkness.’
‘That sounds very plausible,’ Jack said. ‘Nothing would surprise me where these people are concerned.’
####
McCarthy checked his rear-view mirror, sure that he was being followed. The car behind had stuck to him for the last few miles at least.
Left, right, right, left …
He stopped at traffic lights. His eyes narrowed as he checked his rear-view again. The car behind slowed (it looked like a Vauxhall Astra – yes, it was an Astra, all right). Whoever was driving it pulled over, maintaining what they thought was a safe distance.
Time to lose them.
The lights changed.
McCarthy floored the accelerator.
‘Bye, bye, losers.’
####
‘I think someone knows they’re being tailed,’ Derek said. ‘Quick, put your foot down, you’re gonna lose him!’
Jack sped after the Warrior, but it was no good. His car couldn’t match it. The Warrior turned a corner. By the time Jack and his new friends got there, they’d lost their target.
‘Where’d he go?’ Chris said.
‘Don’t know,’ Jack replied, bring them to a halt.
Derek said, ‘I thought you knew what you were doing?’
‘So did I,’ Jack said. He muttered fuck under his breath.
‘Great!’ Chris said, throwing his hands up. ‘We’ll never find ‘em now.’
‘Should’ave let me drive,’ Derek said.
‘I can’t drive and I could’ave done a better job,’ Chris commented.
‘Shut up!’ Jack yelled. ‘We need to think. Where do you suppose they’re going?’
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