The Glasgow Grin (A Stanton Brothers thriller)

by Martin Stanley

  Eddie pointed at him. “The only reason I’m here is ‘cause of you.”

  “No. The only reason you’re here is because of you. Because you sliced up Emily McGarvey,” Gupta roared. “Why the fuck would you do that? The fuckin’ Stantons wouldn’t have cared if you’d left the kid alone. But no, you’ve gotta make some kinda example outta her. A six-year-old girl – a fuckin’ innocent. Now they’re on the fuckin’ warpath. Now I’ve gotta travel around with fuckin’ bodyguards, because of you.”

  Bob observed Jimmy carefully. The look on his face was one of anger not surprise. His entire body seemed to be tense. It was hard to tell if the hitman’s anger was for Emily or because he realised that his intricate web of lies was unravelling.

  Eddie let out a cry of rage, picked up speed and punched Gupta in the face. The blow sent him tumbling on his back in the long grass. He tried to get off the floor, but Eddie kicked him in the mouth. Gupta wailed, raised his hands to his jaw and tried to crawl away with blood trickling off his chin. Then Eddie brought his heel down on the prone man’s crotch again and again until he squealed for mercy. Only then did the pimp pull away, although he still wasn’t happy.

  “Why the fuck did they do this?” he screamed, waving his hands at the trees. “Are they tryna wind us…”

  Eddie stopped speaking. A look of wide-eyed panic slackened his features. He jerked his head left and right in the direction of his men, shouted for them, then took out his mobile phone and started dialling numbers. Bushes rustled and undergrowth crackled as the men emerged from the darkness, ruffling their hair and brushing leaves and grass from their clothes. Every number Eddie tried seemed to be engaged. Eventually he yelled, “Answer your fuckin’ phones,” at the phone display.

  Walking back to where Gupta lay, Eddie rummaged through the man’s pockets roughly until he had his phone. Then he demanded the password, which was surrendered without a fight. He pocketed the phone, and babbled an incoherent string of words at his men, who looked at him and each other in confusion. He rushed into the trees, in the direction of Highcliff Road, screaming at his men to follow him. They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds and finally decided to follow their boss.

  Gupta stayed on the ground in the foetal position, holding his crotch and crying like a baby. Every attempt to get off the floor ended with him shrieking and collapsing into a ball. After three tries, he stopped moving altogether and cried out for help.

  Bob nudged Jimmy. “What the hell were that all about?”

  “I dunno,” he replied. “But Eddie was fuckin’ steaming."

  Bob dropped the holdall, which landed with a clank, then clambered down slowly from branch to branch until he was on the ground. Crouching low behind the trunk, Bob watched the clearing for signs of activity. Jimmy dropped down beside him and waited. Once they were certain that the area was clear, Bob gathered up the bag and they walked across the clearing to where Gupta lay. When the injured man realised that he wasn’t alone he turned and looked up at them.

  “Help me,” he said in a voice so soft it sounded like the rustle of paper. “I need the hospital.”

  Bob patted Jimmy on the shoulder. “Help him up, lad. You’re gonna hafta carry him.”

  55. – Stanton

  PIPER'S GATES wobbled open. Driving through, I pressed the fob and watched them close in the rear-view mirror, then steered up the driveway and pulled into the carport. Sitting for a few seconds to think about our next move, I turned on my phone. Almost immediately the damn thing began to ring. A quick check of the call log told me I’d received calls from Gupta and Eddie.

  The ringtone chimed until it went to voicemail, stopped, and then after a few seconds started all over again. I let it continue like this for a while, finding time to cook a microwave meal and brew and drink a coffee in this period. My brother was the first to show his irritation, shouting, “Either answer it or turn the fucker off,” after thirty minutes.

  McMaster took a little longer to register his annoyance because he was still ruminating about not tearing up the floorboards. He eventually piped in with my brother and asked me to to do one or the other.

  Ignoring them both, I revelled in the ringtone. Right now, Eddie was angry and vulnerable, worrying that maybe nobody would answer his calls. The longer he waited, the angrier and more vulnerable he would become. I wanted him at that point where vulnerability becomes desperation and common sense goes out of the window. He needed be so incensed and distressed that the bigger picture would elude him, and he’d fail to see the trap he was walking into.

  Just one big mistake would cause a domino effect, and a lot of little mistakes, that would ultimately result in Eddie being bound to a tree, ready to face whatever punishment Rose had in store for him. It was only after my brother screamed at me furiously to answer the phone, that I finally took the call.

  “Brian’s Male Escorts,” I said, adding fifty shades of gay to my voice.

  There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line, followed by: “Betcha think you’re fuckin’ funny dontcha, matey?”

  “Who is this?” I said, trying to sound horrified.

  My brother smirked as he sat on one of the chairs opposite and placed a hand over his mouth ready to cover up the laughter. I made the call hands free, so that he had something to chuckle at.

  “You know full fuckin’ well who this is, so cut the shit.”

  I winked at my brother and stopped camping it up. “You sound angry, Edward.”

  “You fuckers set me up,” he said.

  “Actually, Gupta set you up.”

  He paused. “I’ll hafta have words with him.”

  “Don’t be too hard on the bloke,” I said. “He thought he was setting us up. I knew he wasn’t gonna betray you, not knowingly, anyway. So I decided to use his two-faced nature against him. I knew you wouldn’t go there alone, Eddie. So when you left with your boys we thought that’d be a good time to come over and play.”

  “You have my money.”

  “I think you’ll find it was Rose’s money.”

  “Actually, it was McGarvey’s money.”

  “Well, you’ve got me on that one,” I said. “But that still doesn’t make it yours.”

  “Finder’s keepers,” Eddie replied.

  “Then by that rationale it’s mine now.”

  “I wannit back.”

  “Well, you can’t have it.”

  “D’you have any idea how fuckin’ dead you are?” Eddie said, his voice cracking.

  “Based on average life expectancy, I’d say about forty-six per cent.”

  “No, cunt,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You’re a hundred per cent dead, you just don’t know it yet.”

  “Then why don’t you meet me tomorrow and send me on my way?”

  He scoffed. “Right. Then what? You go back to mine for seconds, an’ take a shit in me bed?”

  “Oh, that?”

  “Me bedroom fuckin’ reeks of piss.”

  My brother snorted into his hand and his body rocked with stifled laughter.

  “Sorry about that. Derek got confused and mistook it for a toilet.”

  “I’ll remember that when I’m pissing on your corpses.”

  My brother stopped laughing and started getting angry.

  “And maybe I’ll just piss off to sunnier climes,” I said. “You’ll hafta find us before you getting pleasure of defiling our dead bodies.”

  “Then mebbe we should meet tomorrow?”

  “You think?”

  “You an’ me,” he added. “One-on-fuckin’-one. Without that mongoloid fuckin’ brother of yours.”

  My brother’s lips went tight and his face darkened until it was the colour of wine. He didn’t like being insulted.

  “The same goes for you, Eddie. Alone means alone. That means you can’t bring along Karagounis girls or any other waifs and strays you happen to pick up along the way.”

  “Where and when?” he asked.

  “S
ame time. Same place. Come alone and we’ll settle it like men”

  “I’ll look forward to it, matey.”

  56. – Owden

  JIMMY TOOK his time driving to the hospital, just to maximise Gupta’s pain and his own malevolent amusement, suppressing a laugh every time their passenger whined and begged at him to put his foot down. Bob turned and looked over his shoulder at the small man curled in a sweaty ball across the backseat, saying: “I’ve left a very nice car behind on your behalf. Even in a good neighbourhood I’ll be lucky if it’s still there tomorrow morning. Make it worth my while.”

  “I think… I’m gonna… lose me cock and balls… Bob,” Gupta said in a hoarse whisper.

  “You’re not gonna lose owt, lad,” he said, reaching over to pat Gupta’s damp shoulder. “Now why didn’t you tell me about Eddie slashing Rose and Emily the other day?”

  “You… never asked.”

  Bob reached towards Gupta again, but this time he hooked his big fingers into the muscles behind the businessman’s shoulder and pushed his thumb deep into the area just above the collarbone and wiggled it around. Yelping in pain, Gupta tried to prise the hand away, but he was still weak from his injury and Bob was a lot stronger. He shifted his weight and attempted to wriggle free, but Bob’s hand remained in place as if magnetised to the flesh.

  “Would you like me to pull over and throw you into the side of the road? Would you like to crawl to hospital?”

  Gupta whimpered. Whether it was through pain or the thought of being dumped from the car was hard to tell, but Bob pulled his hand away, saying: “Talk to me, now.”

  “I was… scared,” Gupta said finally. “This isn’t… me. I cheat on me taxes… on me wife… but this isn’t… me. When I got in with Eddie… I wasn’t expecting… this. Thought it would be… a one-off… not the start of summat… major. I wanted to make a big… one-off fortune. That’s it. Wasn’t thinking… about competing with… you. Big drug shipments… smuggling girls… That’s not… me. I’m not… a psycho… I don’t...”

  The talking stopped. Gupta’s head dropped against the seat cushion, his eyes closed. Clicking his fingers in front of his face a couple of times, Bob repeated Gupta’s name with increasing force before placing his hand on chest and giving him a hard shake. The injured man groaned and his eyes flickered open momentarily, but he only managed to drool a couple of wet words into the upholstery and passed out again.

  Bob placed the back of his hand against Gupta’s forehead. It was cool and very damp. He dried the hand on his trousers and listened to the man’s breathing. Each gasp was shallow and stuttery, like an engine that couldn’t quite catch. The damage was far more serious than it had first seemed.

  Bob told Jimmy to put his foot down and get their passenger to a hospital, whichever one was closest. He didn’t want Gupta dead, or too injured to be of any use, he wanted him to run Hollis Haulage, and add a sheen of legitimacy to the business, to become the public face of it, so that it could start making money again.

  Jimmy took the bends fast and the straights faster, cutting through back roads and small villages, as they raced towards James Cook hospital.

  “Eddie’s been busy,” Bob said.

  Jimmy nodded. “Sounds like he’s wanting to become you.”

  Bob looked directly at him.

  “Nobody’s like me,” he replied, his tone an implied threat.

  “You know what I mean. He’s putting it all in place. The infrastructure, the people probably – I hear that Anthony and George Karagounis are working for him. It looks like you and Jack Samson have got yourselves a genuine competitor.”

  “How did I miss this? The drugs and God knows what else?” Maybe Gupta had just confirmed Barney Allinson’s observations about all the new girls working the streets recently. Bob wondered how Eddie and his merry band of miscreants were bringing them in? He turned again and slapped Gupta’s face hard a couple of times. This time he didn’t stir at all. If he wanted more information, he was going to have to get it somewhere else, because their passenger didn’t look like he was waking up any time soon.

  Jimmy took a corner and leaned in his direction. “You’re legit,” he said. “It’s not a surprise you didn’t see this coming.”

  “Not that legit.”

  “Legit enough to know you can’t start any wars, to know you can’t have shit like the Hollis massacre happening every day. The police and the councillors you have on your payroll won’t stand for it if you do.”

  “But how did I miss this?”

  “As long as your pimps are making money with their girls they probably didn’t give a shit. Same with your dealers. As long as they’re making money, people turn a blind eye.”

  “Speaking of which… Rose?” Bob said, studying Jimmy’s face intently. “Did you know?”

  Bob was aware that his right-hand man knew the truth, but he wanted to hear Jimmy say it. For the first time in years, he felt exposed and weak in the face of new competition. Even though he didn’t trust Jimmy he suddenly realised that he needed him, flaws and all. If the hitman told the truth right here and now, Bob would let the betrayal slide, for a while at least, until Eddie was off the map, until it was safe to deal with him quietly, away from the prying eyes of those who would take an interest.

  Jimmy hesitated for a long time, tightening his fingers around the steering wheel, inhaling and exhaling several times, before finally giving an answer.

  “Yes, I knew.”

  “You set it up, didn’t you?”

  Jimmy’s body went stiff. “You knew?”

  “I’m not an idiot, lad.”

  “Then why’m I not already dead?”

  “You would’ve been if it weren’t for the fact that them Stanton lads didn’t turn up tonight,” Bob replied.

  The hitman pulled into the side of the road and started to shake. “Shit,” he said and turned off the engine.

  Bob said nothing. He wanted to see how the unflappable Jimmy Raffin reacted to this kind of pressure. It surprised him to see tears form at the corners of his eyes. He was either a very good actor or this was the genuine article. Jimmy turned, tried to meet his gaze and said, “I’m sorry, Bob.” From the tone of his voice and the way he was shaking Jimmy was clearly telling the truth. He wrenched at the steering in an effort to get the shakes under control.

  “I’m sure you are,” Bob replied coolly. “So why’d you do it?”

  Jimmy leaned forward until his head rested against the wheel.

  “It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he said. “You weren’t even supposed to be involved.

  “I needed fifty grand to pay off a debt to a crew in Leeds. Gambling debts. When they realised I didn’t have the cash they made us do hits at five a pop to pay it off. I had to kill four people in the space of a few months. Way too many in too short a period. Sooner or later I know I’m gonna get caught. So I started thinking of ways out.

  “I told Rose about the problem and she suggested a proposition. She told me about the cash that her Ex had locked up in a safe. Half a mill, she said, more than enough to clear my debt, more than enough to maintain her lifestyle. It shoulda been easy. Find a patsy to do the job, and when the job is done and the time comes to split the proceeds, we kill the patsy, make sure they disappear permanently, and get on with our lives with nobody any the wiser.

  “When I heard that the Stantons were back in town, I realised I could kill two birds with one stone. Use them to get the money and draw all the heat and then kill them and get rid of an irritating problem once and for all.”

  Bob smiled at this. Years ago, Jimmy had found out that the love of his life had been cheating on him with Derek Stanton. When Jimmy told the woman she had to choose between them, she hit him with words that no man wanted to hear: I’m going off with the other guy because, well, you know, he’s better in bed and he’s got a much bigger dick than you.

  Jimmy had taken that about as well as could be expected. He shot the woman in the face, ch
opped her up, and disposed of the corpse – it was that kind of love. Then he vowed revenge on Derek Stanton and bided his time waiting for the right opportunity.

  “But the whole fuckin’ thing went wrong,” Jimmy said. He lifted his head off the steering wheel and looked at Bob. “G-Max fucked up the robbery. Then Hollis fucked up G-Max. Then G-Max’s people fucked up Hollis and you were caught up in it.”

  “So why’re the Stantons still alive?”

  Jimmy rubbed at his brow and ummed and aahed.

  “Come on, lad.”

  “They had me over a barrel,” he said, avoiding Bob’s eye. “Actually they’ve got you over a barrel, too.”

  Bob felt that chill go up his spine again, the one he got when he realised that things were not going to go his way.

  “Do I wanna know this?”

  “Not really, but I need to tell you.”

  “Go on.”

  “They’ve got video footage and photos of Hollis cutting up G-Max —”

  The hairs on the back of Bob’s neck stood to attention.

  “—Which they’re gonna send to the press and the police if owt happens to ‘em. —”

  His skin formed goosebumps.

  “—I had no choice but to let it slide.”

  57. – Stanton

  MY BROTHER’S face had returned to a normal colour and he was no longer clenching his hands continuously. He leaned in towards me. “You do know Eddie’s not gonna come alone?”

  I nodded. “That’s why we’re not meeting him there.”

  My brother’s eyebrows arched quizzically. “So where are we meeting him?”

  “We’re sending him further up Hutton Village Road, so not too far, but it automatically gives us the advantage. There’s a big clearing nearby. Only one easy way in, and otherwise surrounded by trees. Doesn’t give him enough time to improvise.”

  McMaster came into the living room and sat next to my brother. They exchanged a knowing glance, meaning they’d been talking while I was busy listening to ringtones. “Penny for ‘em?” I said.