The Night the Rich Men Burned

by Malcolm Mackay

  Without witnesses, the police don’t know what they’re looking for. Don’t know what car. It wasn’t Bavidge’s own car. That was parked outside his flat. This was a company car belonging to Patterson, but the police don’t know that. They’re convinced the body was moved, but they think in the killer’s car. So they’ve gone through the CCTV around the scene, but more than half the cameras don’t work. They’ve come up with no reliable image of the car that took Bavidge to the scene.

  And they never found the car. Nobody did. A couple of hours after word spread that Bavidge was dead, the car was gone from the car park. Disappeared off the face of the earth. Glass doesn’t know that. Didn’t know it for those few weeks he spent hiding from the world. Assumed the police had found it. Assumed they would be knocking on his door any minute now. But the car was gone. The evidence they needed, spirited away. Nothing for the police to use. Their investigation undermined. Glass’s freedom saved.

  After three weeks, he started to re-engage with planet Earth. Enough time passed for Ella’s pleas to become convincing. She didn’t know what he was scared of, but she kept saying that it had been weeks and nothing had happened. Weeks when he thought he was in danger but was safe. Surely it was time to get back to normal. Three weeks was sufficient for his fear to shrink just enough for him to see other people’s problems. To see how much he was upsetting Ella. So he made the effort. Out into the big scary world. Afraid of every step. Waiting for a hand on the shoulder. Waiting for someone to say or do something. But nobody did. Nobody cared about him in the slightest.

  It was a weird couple of months thereafter. He gradually got used to living again. He knows he was childish about it. Living in fear, needing to be looked after. Even in the month after he started going out again. Ella nursed him through it all. But it hasn’t been the same. Hasn’t been the same with Ella. Hasn’t been the same with anyone. Still living with that fear. Always will. Knowing that he did something he ought to be punished for. Knowing that there are people out there who will seek to punish him. Worse people than the police.

  He was waiting for the police, because they were the first fear his mind turned to. Still are. Getting to a point where it would almost be a relief if a copper did come for him. But there are more dangerous people out there than the police. Alan Bavidge worked for Billy Patterson. Everyone knows Billy Patterson is a tough little bastard. Everyone knows he punishes hard. He has to be looking for the person who killed Bavidge. When he finds that person, he’s going to kill them. Torture them and kill them. When the police find the killer, Patterson will still try to kill them. You live with that sort of fear, that sort of expectation, and it changes your behaviour.

  Glass basically stopped caring. If you’re going to be arrested or killed tomorrow, it doesn’t much matter how you behave today. So he started going out with Ella every night. Even when she didn’t want to go, he insisted. She only went because she was worried about him. Thought he needed her there to stop him doing something stupid. Still nursing him, because he was obviously still sick. Living every night like it was his last. Could have been. You never know. So he lived it that way. Drinking a lot. Using a lot more drugs, because that seemed to help. Kill reality.

  You know what’s funny? He doesn’t remember going back to Jefferson for another loan. No recollection at all. Doesn’t even remember spending the money. Jefferson happily gave him the money when he asked. He knew that Glass had paid off Potty. Had done something to wriggle off the hook. Potty was happy with Glass, so Glass got another loan. Jefferson working on the assumption that he can sell this one to Potty as well. Glass doesn’t remember asking for the money. Doesn’t remember spending it. Doesn’t remember going back and asking for more.

  That’s what it’s been like. Months of blur. That’s the way he wants to keep it. Life doesn’t feel real, so life stops being something he needs to care about. His relationship with Ella is suffering for it. She cries a lot, shouts at him. Shouting about things he barely understands. Something about a carpet the other day. He didn’t understand that she had been saving up for a new carpet in the living room, and he blew the money on drink. Doesn’t understand that she’s trying to create a stable home, and that he’s destroying it. But that doesn’t matter to him. Nothing does.

  Jefferson’s been calling. Glass is heading round there now. Not thinking about it at all. He doesn’t care what Jefferson wants. Doesn’t care what he demands or threatens. Jefferson’s nothing when you stand him next to Billy Patterson.

  Into Jefferson’s office. Jefferson actually seems surprised that he’s turned up. Raising an eyebrow and slowly nodding his head. Seen this before. Borrowers who just don’t care. Don’t even try and hide from the problem any more.

  ‘You came. Good. Sit down.’ There’s a pause while he looks at Glass. Glass has the look of a man who slept for three hours last night. Who didn’t shower this morning. Stubble, tousled hair, scruffy clothes. ‘You look like shit,’ Jefferson’s saying. A hint of concern. Not about Glass. He doesn’t care about Glass’s well-being any more than Glass does. He’s concerned about the debt. If Glass can’t look after himself, he can’t look after the debt. The boy’s really gone downhill in the last few months.

  ‘Thanks a lot. What do you want?’

  Jefferson’s frowning now. ‘What do I want? I want my fucking money, is what I want. What did you think I wanted? You owe me money. You owe me four thousand one hundred pounds. You haven’t paid back a single penny.’ That’s why he’s calling it in. This new debt hasn’t been running long, but at least last time Glass showed signs of paying. Not this time. This time, not a damn penny. No money paid, no effort made to pay. So he’s calling it in early.

  ‘I don’t have any money.’ Glass saying it like it’s no big deal. Like he doesn’t care at all. And he doesn’t. Last time it worried him sick. This time he has it in perspective. Money is nothing. If he’s dead tomorrow, the debt dies with him. If he’s locked up tomorrow, the debt gets locked up with him. The debt is a long-term problem in a short-term world.

  ‘You think you’re going to get off with this? You think you’ve bought yourself some sort of credit? Huh, is that it? You think Potty Cruickshank will bail you out a second time? He won’t. Let me tell you that now. He won’t. Seems like he isn’t interested in you any more. Yeah, I called him. Yesterday morning. Called him up and said I had another debt of yours I was looking to shift. Thought he might be interested. He said no. Not interested at all, thanks for calling. So you’re out on your own. You need to come up with that money, because there’s nobody in this world that wants to help you.’

  Glass is laughing. Nobody ever wanted to help him. He never thought for one second that anyone did. Potty? Wanting to help him? That’s a laugh. Jefferson’s frowning again, and he can frown all he wants. Glass didn’t borrow because he thought there was a way out. He borrowed because it doesn’t matter to him.

  He’s out of the office and making his way back home. Pointless meeting. Back to the flat. Maybe get some sleep in the afternoon. Spend a little time with Ella. But she’s not there when he gets back. Gone off somewhere without telling him. She does that more now. He hasn’t thought about why. She’s working more to try and earn more money because he’s throwing so much away. She’s trying to keep the dream of a good life alive. The dream they used to share.

  4

  It shocked him, how much it hurt. Billy Patterson is a tough man, make no mistake. He’s thirty-nine, and people have come and gone in his life. People he cared about. Didn’t slow him down. Always hurts to lose someone you care about, sure, but he coped. Coped well. Shut the emotions away and got on with being his usual hard self. So he didn’t expect losing Bavidge to hurt the way it did.

  Partly because he blames himself. Never blamed himself before. He’s been responsible for people dying before. Two people. Didn’t carry out the killings. Didn’t order them either. But sent people round to beat these two up. They didn’t take the beatings well. Died. Patter
son didn’t take that hard. That was the job. Some people can take a beating. Some people can’t. The risk you run when you’re dealing with collectors. This was different. This actually felt like his fault.

  Bavidge was a friend. They didn’t hang out socially, but that wasn’t the point. They were friends in a way that mattered more than socializing. They were on the same wavelength. Patterson sent Bavidge out into the world to do bad things. Bavidge did them, never questioning the role he played. He was honest, and he was reliable. He understood. It was Patterson who sent him out to do those bad things, and one of them caught up with Bavidge. Strange thing is, this is what he expected. He had always viewed Bavidge as a man destined for an early death. He knew that, and it didn’t stop him using Bavidge. And that got him killed.

  He heard the news from a contact in the police. A civilian, doing office work. They called him up, told him that the police had found Bavidge’s body. Gave all the details. They were confusing. Multiple stab wounds to the arms and stomach. The knife was still in him. He was found behind some shops in the city centre. Made no sense. Body had been moved. Probably attacked outside his house: some blood had been found on the pavement by the officers sent round to check the place. The police searching for the car that moved him. Patterson was stunned by it. Took him a few minutes to pull himself together. Then he acted fast.

  Sent someone round to Bavidge’s house. Wanted to see if the police had found the car Bavidge was using. That car was the link to Patterson. A link Patterson couldn’t let the police find. Car wasn’t there. Police were. At first he feared the police had found the car and taken it away. Reassurance from the contact. The police still hadn’t found anything. Bavidge’s own car on the street, but nothing else of interest. So all his people were sent out to look. Find the car. It had to be what the body was moved in. Had to be. It was luck that they found it so soon. The muscle searched car parks and one of them stumbled across the car. Inside soaked in blood. It’s been destroyed. Nothing to link the murder victim with the debt collector he was planning crimes with. How could Patterson explain the use of that company car to the police? Admit that they were using it to try and trick a gunman into killing Potty Cruickshank in an attempt to set up Marty Jones? Yeah, good one. The car had to go.

  That was the clean-up. The following couple of months were awkward. Just trying to get the tone right. People in the business knew they were vulnerable. Had to know. They knew that Bavidge was an important man and now they know he’s dead. So Patterson went into reassurance mode. Making sure all his men knew that they weren’t going to be crushed. This was a one-off, not dominoes falling. That meant keeping their heads down. No drawing attention. If people don’t look at you, they don’t see your vulnerability. Let everything calm down before you launch a counter-attack.

  Truth is, if he’d been in a strong position, he would have hit back straight away. He wanted to. Would have loved to do something about it. He was burning to punish someone. Two problems. Couldn’t be sure who had done it. The hit was a mess, and that pushed him towards thinking it was someone amateur. Someone a bit dumb. Maybe someone Bavidge had collected from. Or a jealous husband. But the main target still had to be Potty Cruickshank. He was the obvious candidate. Would never put it past him to use some amateur to cover his tracks.

  But Patterson wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Not yet. He needed to regroup without Bavidge. He needed to find answers. He needed to build strength. And he’s been doing that. Tough, but not dumb. He’s been working silently. Giving people the impression that he’s weak. Giving people the impression that he’s slowly losing business. Letting them believe what he wants them to believe. Pulling his inner circle closer and getting them to work.

  Today is one of the first big steps in his plan. He will take down Potty Cruickshank. He will. He will because he knows. Doesn’t know everything, sure, but he knows enough. Suspicion has hardened into certainty. Potty and MacArthur were working together, and MacArthur has a big organization. A lot of people who find stuff out. A lot of people who can talk about it. And they did talk. Conn Griffiths got a lot of good info about the Bavidge killing yesterday. Organized by Potty. No doubt about it. Potty and MacArthur were rather pleased with themselves about it. Jamie Stamford, weirdly, wasn’t that happy. Probably didn’t like someone else publicly cleaning up his mess. But it was Potty. Everyone in MacArthur’s organization is saying so.

  Still haven’t found out who actually carried it out. Working on that. Won’t stop looking until he finds them. And when he finds them, he’ll kill them. Potty’s the big one. Potty’s the one who made it all happen and he’s the one who has to pay for it. The person who carried it out has to be seen to be punished. But that takes help. Patterson’s been lying low. He’s using fewer people now, buying fewer debts. That’s deliberate. Self-preservation. If you’re too small to win the fight, get so small the opponent thinks they’ve already won. Potty will think that he’s won. Beaten Patterson. But he’s got a surprise coming.

  Patterson’s meeting with Marty Jones. Polite little meeting in an office above a shop. Talk with Marty about helping each other out. Marty will think he’s the big half of the meeting. He’ll believe Patterson is small now too. So he’ll be willing to do a deal because he’ll think he can dominate this. That’s fine. Let him think that. If Bavidge had lived, Marty would be carrying the can for a hit attempt on Potty right now. Just don’t underestimate flashy Marty. Doesn’t matter how scatty a shark like him looks, he still has bite. Patterson’s increasingly convinced that that’s all part of Marty’s own self-preservation. The lifestyle. The parties and the women. Profitable, sure, but a smart way to look like a cheeky rogue, rather than a ruthless gangster.

  ‘Good to see you, Billy,’ Marty’s saying. Sticking his hand out and pretending to be a friend. Sitting behind one of the desks in the office.

  The office is practically empty. Desks and chairs and very little else to get excited about. Easy to guess what Marty sees in this place. It’s on a busy street where he can come and go without standing out. Have meetings like this. Collect things here. Kind of good little office Patterson could do with.

  ‘Good to see you too, Marty.’ Very disingenuous, but Marty must encounter so many bullshit merchants that he doesn’t bat an eyelid. ‘I think we ought to have a little chat about what we can do for each other.’

  Marty’s smiling and nodding. A guy comes to you and says you should help each other out. A guy who’s been under attack. A guy whose business has been shrinking. Of course Marty’s going to think that this is a golden opportunity for him. Of course he’s going to think that he can take control of this. That’s what he’s supposed to think.

  ‘Well, I guess maybe we can,’ Marty’s saying. ‘Although I’ll be honest with you here, Billy, I’m not seeing what we’re going to be able to do for each other. You and me, we’re not exactly the best possible fit.’

  ‘See, I think we are,’ Patterson’s saying, getting in there before Marty has the chance to follow that train of thought down the tracks. ‘I think there’s a lot we can do for each other. I think we’re as compatible as two men in our business can be. Not a perfect fit, maybe, but you’ll never find one of them. You have specific skills and connections that I don’t have. I have specific abilities that you don’t. And we both have common enemies.’

  Marty’s nodding to that. They sure as hell do. But Marty’s been thinking about that bastard Peterkinney a lot, and he’s guessing that’s not who’s on Patterson’s mind. He’ll be more interested in Potty Cruickshank. Everyone knows he took on Potty and lost. Potty hooked up with Alex MacArthur. Now things are falling into place. Ah, Patterson, you smart little bastard. Potty hooks up with Alex MacArthur. Marty is under Peter Jamieson’s protection. That makes it hard for Marty to say no.

  But Marty’s instincts are telling him to say no. He wants to say no so that he won’t get dragged into something big and dangerous. This is a man who’s built his career on exploiting the vulne
rable, not fighting the strong. He knows what fights to pick. His instincts are razor-sharp on that front. This doesn’t look like a good one. But he has to say yes. Jamieson’s setting up a run on MacArthur. Everyone in the know knows. Or at least suspects. It’s the next natural step. This will help to hurt MacArthur, and Marty still needs to wriggle his way back into the good books. Looking for every opportunity.

  ‘You need to tell me something concrete,’ Marty’s saying. ‘You give me something concrete, and I can get behind it. I’m not going to throw myself in front of a bus for you, Billy boy, but I could help you.’

  Billy’s turn to smile. Marty’s good at this. You have to play him careful. Tempting to believe all the bluster and bullshit, but he’s smart. Didn’t get where he is by accident. ‘I want Potty Cruickshank’s fat head on a spike. I want the Cruickshank business in ashes. I want that family name to be a distant memory. An old joke. I think that would serve you well. I also wouldn’t mind cutting the legs off Oliver Peterkinney. I’ve watched him grow. He’s dangerous. Would be smart to do something to stop that, sooner rather than later. You and me could carve this business up between us. If we’re smart. If we’re tough. If we use the advantages we have. We could undermine some important people into the bargain. Help bigger players take down bigger rivals. I have the men to go to war with Potty. Don’t be dumb enough to believe that my shrinking the business was anything other than preparation.’

  Marty’s looking at his watch. He really does need to hurry this along. ‘Okay. Listen, Billy. I ain’t saying yes. Not certainly. But I’ll think about it. Give it some, you know, proper consideration.’

  ‘You know that Potty Cruickshank was arrested this morning?’ Patterson’s asking. Casual tone, making no effort to get up and leave.