The Night the Rich Men Burned

by Malcolm Mackay

  He’s been working like a Trojan. No more messing around. The parties still happen; the women are still a part of his business. That’s not going to change, because they’re still profitable. Profit is what makes Marty a big player at a time like this. But Marty isn’t at the parties any more. He has minions to run those things for him now. Marty’s making a serious effort to look serious.

  Patterson’s got a meeting with him this lunchtime. Marty might be the same guy he always was, but the changed circumstances mean you have to treat him differently. He’s given up any hope of manipulating Marty. Treating him as the junior party. Thought he could at the start of this alliance, but that’s not going to happen now. Even if he could manipulate Marty, the other senior men in the organization wouldn’t let it happen. Hurt Marty, and they’ll hurt Patterson. They’re all protecting each other, because they have nobody above to protect them.

  Marty’s taking the collection business seriously now. He’s taking everything seriously. No more short-term money-grabbing. Everything is long-term now, for the good of the organization. He’s also gotten ruthless. Much more willing to strike against the competition. Not petty beatings using people like Neil Fraser. Marty’s willing to do the real dirty work to protect the organization, because there’s no protection above him now. Everyone’s gotten a little more brutal, because of the uncertainty. Twitchy, ready to fight.

  Patterson’s pressing the buzzer up to the office. Marty doesn’t use this place often now. He’s got a few other offices he uses. Not particularly impressive places themselves, but he needs more of them. Needs to move around more. Needs to take his own security more seriously than ever. He’s a senior man in an organization some still see as vulnerable. Also has more money to hide, which means more legit places as fronts. But this is where he always meets Patterson. This is where he’ll keep meeting him. Not letting Patterson get a taste of Marty’s other businesses. Keeping Patterson in his place.

  Patterson’s up the stairs and through the door. Into the office to find two other men leaving. One of them he doesn’t recognize. The other one is Ray Buller. He’d bet his right arm on it, and he’s right-handed. Ray Buller, slouching out of a meeting with Marty Jones. A senior man for Alex MacArthur. One of his best friends for decades. Meeting in Marty’s office. Bloody hell, Marty is moving up. Working this old bastard as a contact. Buller’s giving Patterson a brief glance. Poisonous, angry that Marty’s allowed someone to see him here. That’s deliberate. Marty wants him to be seen. Wants a witness to the meeting.

  Patterson’s furiously putting two and two together as the door closes behind him. This must be an early meeting between them. Marty organizing a witness to make sure Buller can’t back out of whatever corner Marty’s boxed him into. Killing Marty won’t now be enough to hide the betrayal. He’d have to kill Patterson too. And then kill anyone Patterson told. An ever-growing list that makes compliance so much easier than killing. Clever little Marty.

  ‘How are you, Martin?’ Patterson’s asking, shaking his hand. Started calling him Martin as a joke, like he’s too serious for a nickname these days. Suits him though.

  ‘Good enough,’ Marty’s saying. No small talk about parties or women. No bullshit. Just get on with business. No time for dicking around. ‘We need to talk about Potty Cruickshank. He’s going on the offensive. Shame the police dropped their interest in him, but that’s how it goes. Lot of good opportunities fell off the table back then. Means we have to do the job instead. If we leave him doing what he’s doing, he’s going to take serious market share from us. Time to deal with him.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Patterson’s saying. Past time to deal with him, in fact, but that couldn’t be helped. Marty had other things to deal with. Bigger games to play. Patterson doesn’t begrudge that.

  ‘I know for a fact that Potty is going to Alex MacArthur tonight. Going to look for a deal with his old chum, but he won’t get it.’ Not mentioning Buller, not going to mention him. Patterson already knows and these things don’t need to be spoken about. Marty no longer needs to brag about how clever he is. ‘MacArthur doesn’t want to get involved in other people’s squabbles. He’s got plenty shit on his own doorstep. That’s going to leave Potty isolated. Now is a really bad time to be isolated. Then, tomorrow, I’m going to visit Potty. I’m going to arrange a big meeting.’

  Patterson’s nodding, but not with enthusiasm. It’s the slow-motion nod of a man who doesn’t like where this is going. ‘A meeting. Okay.’

  ‘You, me and Potty. We’re going to sit down and come up with something that makes me happy. A private meeting, away from prying eyes. We’ll have an agreement.’

  Patterson’s fuming. Trying to keep it under control. He knows what happened to Alan Bavidge. Still doesn’t know exactly who carried it out, but he knows exactly who organized it. He will make Potty suffer for one. One day, come hell or high water, he’ll make sure Alan Bavidge gets payback. ‘And if we don’t get a deal that makes you happy?’ Spoken through gritted teeth.

  Now Marty’s smiling a little. Just a little, but it means a lot. It means Marty’s already thought that far ahead. It means Marty already has a plan for that. ‘You know what? I have a funny little feeling that we won’t come to an agreement. Too much distance between you and Potty. I have a feeling we may have to settle the issue there and then. Goes without saying, you and I will be the ones making the demands. I think you and I are very close in what we want. You might want to bring a couple of your best with you, just in case there’s tension.’

  Patterson’s not fuming any more. He likes the sound of this meeting now. Sounds like it’s going to be the meeting he’s wanted to have with Potty for a long time. Agreement is made. The meeting place. The people they’ll bring with them. The timing, which means so much. By the time he leaves the office, Patterson’s a very happy man. Happy with Marty. Happy to be led by him.

  2

  It’s just not good enough. Not any more. Not for Peterkinney. Not for the business he has now. You just can’t have these little debts getting in the way of the bigger work that needs to be done. Makes you look small-time, something he no longer is. His contract with Chris Argyle has been successful. He’s making more money than he thought he would at this point. Well ahead of schedule. He’s becoming influential within Argyle’s business. Handling all of his awkward muscle work. And throughout it all, that debt is still there.

  He’s arranged a few meetings with his grandfather and Alex to talk about it. The first one went well. Glass said he would do whatever it took. Said he’d work the debt off, whatever. Made it seem like there was nothing he wouldn’t do. Except there was something. Just one thing. The thing Peterkinney wanted from him. The truth about how he paid off his first debt to Potty. There’s nothing else Glass has to offer. Doesn’t have any skills. Sure as hell doesn’t have the money. Only thing he has is information he won’t share.

  A few meetings since, and Glass has come up with nothing. It’s stopped feeling awkward to Peterkinney, organizing a meeting with a former best friend. Used to be he dreaded it. Calling him up, having the meeting. Trying to make polite chat. Make it seem like they still had any sort of relationship. Not awkward any more. Now he doesn’t feel like he knows Glass. Doesn’t feel like he wants to know him. So it’s a formal meeting. The kind he has every day. But no more. Glass has run out of chances.

  All he had to do was tell Peterkinney what he’d done for Potty. Tell a little story. Simple as that. Every time they met, he refused to talk about it. Got angry whenever Peterkinney brought up the subject. No point pushing it. He won’t talk. And he won’t pay either. No matter how many times Arnie tries to cover for him. He’s paid off some of the debt. But it’s slow going. Glass can’t get a permanent job. He’s getting odd jobs here and there. Putting some money towards the debt, but it’s slow. Never going to be fast enough.

  And that hooker’s still around. He warned his grandfather about her. Girls like that, they’re always a drain. Always going to keep G
lass trapped in a world of parties. But Arnie didn’t get rid of her. Now, Peterkinney would have been good enough to turn a blind eye to that, if Glass had been smart about it. But no, he had to do the usual idiot act. One of Peterkinney’s boys saw it. Glass out at a nightclub, with his expensive little girlfriend. Expensive nightclub to be hanging around. She was there to work, and Glass wasn’t actually spending money, but Peterkinney’s boy didn’t know that. Just saw Glass in a place a poor man shouldn’t be. Told Peterkinney about it. Peterkinney arranged a meeting with Glass. Glass told him he was skint. Didn’t have a penny to his name. No, because he spent it all in some shitty club the night before. Idiot. Thinking he can play Peterkinney for a fool. Nuh-uh, doesn’t work that way, old pal.

  Makes Peterkinney look bad. Makes him look like he’ll let a debt slide if you happen to be a mate of his. Can’t have people thinking you’re soft. All of his people knowing about it. If your own staff think you’re a bit soft, they’ll try to take advantage of it. They all know he’s doing good work for Argyle, but even a small debt can undermine that. It can be the chink in the gleaming armour. So he’s going to do something about it.

  He’s called in one of his more junior muscle. New fellow they hired a couple of weeks ago. James Holmes, his name is. So many names come across Peterkinney’s desk. His world is full of new faces. Doesn’t remember this one. Looks rough as all hell. Got a scraggly beard and bags under his eyes. Thick dark hair that could seriously do with a wash. Doesn’t seem to play well with others. Quiet and miserable. Looks like a boozer. Tough bastard though. He’ll do for a job this simple.

  ‘Here’s the address,’ Peterkinney’s saying. Passing a slip of paper across the table. Not bothering to say hello. ‘Name’s Alex Glass. Lives there with his girlfriend. She works, he doesn’t, so most likely he’ll be there and she won’t. He owes about three and a half grand now, but the debt’s gone on too long. I want you to make it clear that it’s time for him to take this debt seriously. He’s been spending money elsewhere, and I want him to know that that just won’t do. You understand?’

  ‘I understand,’ Holmes is nodding. He knows exactly how it works. Go round there and kick some sense into the boy. What could be simpler?

  Holmes remembers Peterkinney. Remembers being kicked down the fucking stairs by him. Oh yeah, he remembers. All too well. Remembers his life plummeting down the toilet after that. Needed work. Needed something he could do that would pay fast. Weren’t many places left he could go looking for work. Not many places where he hadn’t burnt his bridges. This was one of the very few. And everyone knows that Peterkinney’s expanding. Everyone knows he’s taking on new people. If you’re tough and willing to do dirty work. If you’re willing to put your life on the line. Some of his collections are from very dangerous people these days.

  He thought Peterkinney would remember him. Probably a sign of how well the kid’s doing that he didn’t. Holmes doesn’t look the same. Lost a bit of weight, grew the beard to cover the scar. Peterkinney gave Holmes a couple of jobs to do. Holmes did them well. He’s past caring about his security these days. In debt. Drinking heavily. Shifting from place to place, waiting for the council to find him a flat. Was in sheltered housing for a few weeks. Slept in a car park for three nights. Now he’s willing to risk the last thing he has left, his life. Do it for some money. Enough money to drink himself to death, hopefully.

  ‘Get it done later this afternoon, let me know how it goes,’ Peterkinney’s saying. ‘I want detail on this one.’ He knows he’s going to get a call from his grandfather. Or a visit. Those are always fun. Talking awkwardly. Arguing. Each pretending he doesn’t owe the other anything. Arnie will be furious, and Oliver will have to defend himself. For that, he needs detail.

  Holmes has left. Scruffy-looking bugger, Peterkinney’s thinking. Might have to tell him to tidy himself up. Not yet. Not while he’s doing garbage jobs at the low end of the business. The people he’s collecting from look even worse than he does. But he’ll have to clean himself up if he wants to work the bigger jobs. Presentation matters. You need to look professional and decent. If you’re collecting from a rich man, you need to look rich in his presence. At least look respectable.

  Kilbanne is back from his lunch. Seemingly happier in his work these days. He knows what he’s doing is still fundamentally crooked, but now it’s on a big scale. There’s something exciting about that. Peterkinney’s starting to talk seriously about legitimate businesses. That’s what it is. That’s what gets Kilbanne excited. The thought that they’re making so much money, they can start to look at buying legit concerns to hide it all behind. Then Kilbanne can hide his guilt behind the legitimacy.

  ‘I know pubs, clubs and bookies are clichéd,’ Kilbanne’s saying, ‘but they’re a great place to start. Easy to manipulate the figures coming in. But there are other things we can do. Things that will raise less concern. They are more complicated, though. Probably more expensive to get off the ground, as well. Worth it though, long term.’

  ‘Right now we need something that’s going to work fast,’ Peterkinney’s saying. They’ve had this conversation before. Often. Peterkinney wanting to go the obvious route, Kilbanne wanting to do something unnecessarily clever. Right now they need to come up with ways of cleaning up their cut of the Argyle money. Doesn’t matter how clever it is, it just needs to work. Sooner the better. Money’s starting to pile up and it needs to be cleaned and put somewhere safe.

  ‘I’m going to start moving some money,’ Kilbanne is saying. ‘Need to have it to purchase with. I mean, you’re right; we should go for the simple stuff first. I’ll start looking around. There’s always pubs shutting down. Should be easy pickings.’

  Easy pickings. Two best words in the criminal lexicon. Often the two most misleading, as well. These things are almost never easy. Peterkinney isn’t naive about that. The economic situation will make it easier for them to find struggling places willing to sell. They’ll either buy the whole place or a share. More likely the whole thing. Only buy a share if you can rely on the other shareholder to keep their mouth shut. Peterkinney isn’t willing to trust people he doesn’t know. Not big enough to scare people into silence yet. Kilbanne will take control of the books. Filter dirty money through them.

  By the end of the afternoon, Peterkinney’s in rather good cheer. He knows to expect his grandfather. It’ll be a call now, because they’re going to lock up the office. His grandfather’s never been to his flat. Might not even know where it is. So he’ll telephone and bitch and moan, and Peterkinney will have to explain the way the world works. And he’ll rather enjoy it. It’s about time Arnie Peterkinney found out that his Good Samaritan routine is a shambles. Worthless and ineffective.

  3

  He’s nervous. Potty’s actually nervous about this. It’s because things are so different. Until a few months ago, this would have been routine. And even if this didn’t go his way, he’d still have other options. But not now. The whole industry is changing. You can’t take anything for granted now. Even he’s trying to find a foothold in the shifting sands.

  It started out looking like good news. Potty thought he was going to be one of the big beneficiaries of this turmoil. Some gunman belonging to Peter Jamieson blabbed to the cops. Dropped a lot of people in the shit. Somehow or other, that involved Paul Greig. PC Paul Greig wasn’t a PC any more. He was quietly shunted out of the force. Police didn’t want the embarrassment of it going to trial. His superiors would have had to admit that they knew some of what he was doing. But all the evidence he’d provided them with was suddenly useless. The cases that hinged on his evidence were quietly dropped. Including Potty’s.

  Throw in the fact that Jamieson and his organization looked like they were finished, and it seemed like a good day to be Potty Cruickshank. For a start, that would be the end of Marty Jones. Marty was never a major concern, too much of a playboy, but this would get rid of that nuisance. Without Jamieson’s protection, he couldn’t possibly survive. And J
amieson’s fall would make Alex MacArthur stronger. Potty had been cultivating his relationship with the MacArthur organization. So good news all round. Three cheers for the gunman who talked.

  But it didn’t turn out that way. MacArthur was arrested a couple of days later. It didn’t go anywhere, but that doesn’t matter. He was weak. That was the opening the ambitious younger ones had been looking for. People like Don Park, looking to take control. For the last few months, it feels like it’s been silent civil war in the MacArthur camp. People trying to slice each other, without the outside world hearing about it. Potty hasn’t been able to get a meeting. Hasn’t been able to get anyone to pay him any damn attention. To top it all off, that bastard Marty Jones seems to be going from strength to strength.

  He’s finally got himself a meeting with Alex MacArthur. Was offered a meeting with some junior a couple of weeks ago. Turned that right down. Don’t they remember who he is? Don’t they remember the respect the Cruickshank name commands? Whatever their internal problems are, they’re no excuse for disrespect. Maybe they remember him now, because MacArthur’s agreed to see him.

  He’s sitting in the back of the car. Sweating, which isn’t good. He needs to look relaxed when he goes into MacArthur’s office. It’s a small office they’re going to. That’s a bad sign. Might be more to do with MacArthur’s recent struggles than Potty’s. The old man moving around more to stay safe. Not using his preferred meeting places so often. Maybe it’s not another sign that he doesn’t take Potty seriously. Maybe. Still, it’s a negative to focus on and make him sweat a bit more.