by Jack Probyn
After Richard’s conviction for sexual assault, he and Danny’s paths had crossed for the first time in years. Danny had been sentenced to six months for domestic violence at the time – which, with the wonders of hindsight, should have been the other way round, given that it was later found out he was the one being abused by his girlfriend Louise. During their time together, Danny had come clean about being a witness and helping put Richard in jail the first time round.
Their relationship was complex and that was what scared Jake the most.
There was a history between the two of them, a vendetta, a justice owed. And it meant there was now a credible motive for Richard to have killed Danny. They were now one step closer to slamming the final nail in his coffin.
Jake was torn.
If he’d made this discovery without knowing that they were trying to pin the murder on Richard, then he would have told Liam – or whoever cared most – immediately. But now that he knew an innocent man’s life balanced on this piece of evidence, a part of him didn’t want to turn it in. Couldn’t turn it in. But then he remembered he had colleagues working towards the same outcome. What if Drew or Garrison found the information when it was his job to find it? They’d realise he wasn’t all-in like he’d convinced them he was. No… it was the right thing to do. For the good of the investigation. For the good of his fight against Liam and Drew and Garrison. He needed to do it this way.
It was the only way.
Reluctantly, Jake pushed himself away from his desk and wandered over to Liam’s door. He knocked and then entered before giving Liam a chance to respond.
‘Guv, I’ve got an update for you. I think you’re going to like it.’
CHAPTER 26
FAVOURITES
Nigel Clayton was a man of many talents. First and foremost, he was a businessman, an entrepreneur. Good with people; even better with numbers. Which, as the only British member in the group, helped. If they needed a solicitor’s hand to smooth things over with their money laundering businesses, or even another accountant, Nigel knew just the people. Nigel was also very creative, and he was good at coming up with ideas on how to launder money – the reason he was here. As a group, they had a surplus of it, and they needed to siphon it through the system and turn it into clean cash somehow. That was where Nigel stepped into a league of his own.
‘Send it abroad.’
‘No. Keep in country.’ Georgiy wagged his finger in Nigel’s face.
They were sitting in their nightclub, just on the outskirts of West Ham. Coalesce. A shitty name they’d pulled from the dictionary. It was the first of three properties they used for money laundering. The process had been foreign to Georgiy when he’d first started out but after years of experience and learning on the job, it was beginning to make sense. But it made even more sense to entrust it to someone who was an expert.
‘Hear me out,’ Nigel said, pointing his finger at Georgiy. ‘How much are we set to get from the Danny hit?’
‘Two-fifty.’
‘Two hundred and fifty grand? I thought it was five hundred.’
Georgiy leant forward, closer to Nigel’s face. ‘Your fuck-up lost us half money.’
‘Fuck-up? What fuck-up?’
‘The cement. It not set in time. You said cooling agent would cool down. For that, we lose fifty per cent.’
Nigel gesticulated wildly. From appearances, he came across as an inferior, an insubordinate; he was physically small, and he looked as though he couldn’t carry himself in a fight. But he was the complete opposite. He wasn’t afraid to stand up for himself; nor was he afraid to argue and defend his point.
‘Bullshit!’ Nigel exclaimed. ‘I told you – I’m a fucking accountant, not a fucking scientist. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t going to cool down in time? Blame Vitaly just as much as me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Georgiy said, raising a hand and quickly silencing Nigel. ‘Vitaly on my list already.’
But you already have an extra black mark against your name, he thought.
‘Enough, all right, fine,’ Nigel said, resting back in his chair. ‘As I was saying, we need to launder a quarter million outta the country. We’ve already got enough businesses as it is. If we send it abroad, we can make back our investment… and then some.’
‘How?’
‘Gold.’
Georgiy rolled his eyes and scoffed.
‘It’s simple.’ Nigel leapt out of his chair, grabbed a pen and notepad, and returned to the desk. ‘Ship the money to France. Get someone to transfer it further afield – Belgium, Germany, the Netherlands. Find a contact who can supply gold, cheap. Buy it with the laundered money, and then take the gold down to Dubai or the Middle East. There, sell it – for either the same amount that we paid for it, or more – and then send the money to our offshore accounts.’
‘Does not sound simple,’ Georgiy said, trying to deny the fact that his interest was piqued.
‘It’s not easy when you don’t know how. But that’s why you’ve got me involved.’
Georgiy rubbed the side of his face as he considered. ‘Who we use as mule?’
‘Tatiana. She’s a woman, and she’s got several passports. They shouldn’t suspect her. Or anyone you want… a stranger on the street… anyone, so long as you pay enough for their silence.’
It was a lot to think about, and it was a lot of money to be laundering – their biggest haul yet. Up until this point, they’d only ever received low levels of money for carrying out hits on targets. Twenty grand. Thirty. Fifty. Even a hundred grand one time. But nothing as substantial as this. And then there were the other branches of the business that he was currently looking after on behalf of The Cabal. The bootlegging. The arms deals. The small-scale drug dealing with the Albanians and Romanians that was kept out of Henry Matheson and Jermaine Gordon’s noses. There were already too many facets to their businesses. Perhaps it was time to change it up.
‘Arrange everything,’ he told Nigel. ‘Plan it for couple days’ time. Wait for dust to settle on Cipriano hit. But tell me before you agree. I will tell Tatiana.’
Nigel bowed his head, grabbed his things and then left.
Just as Nigel shut the door behind him, the telephone in Georgiy’s office rang. He eyed the number and waited a moment before answering it, reaching for the television remote and switching on the news.
‘Hello?’ he said tentatively as he held the phone to his ear.
‘It’s me.’
‘What is it now?’
‘I have another hit for you.’
‘Has it been approved?’
‘Yes.’
‘What is the name?’
‘Richard Maddison. But this is different.’
‘Yes…’
‘You have to make it look like a suicide. Russian suicide. Your favourite.’
‘Same pay?’ Georgiy asked.
‘Same pay.’
Georgiy turned his attention to the television. Something caught his eye.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Send me details.’
Just as he was about to end the call, the images on the BBC News screen changed. Staring at him was a live image of the London Olympic Stadium.
‘Fuck,’ he whispered.
‘What?’
‘Danny Cipriano. He’s on the news.’
‘Oh, I know. I told the news reporter to put him there.’
CHAPTER 27
COMING CLEAN
Liam lowered the lid of his laptop slowly, as if that would delay the inevitable. The shit was about to hit the proverbial, they were swimming up the creek, and they were wildly unprepared.
Tanya. She’d betrayed him by releasing the news story too early. He’d told her explicitly to wait for his instruction. And now she’d placed pressure on Liam and his team to solve the case quickly – with the eyes of the whole world watching. It was too late to regret giving her it in the first place, but it was the only emotion in him right now. That and rage. How could he have been so s
tupid as to trust her with information this big? The answer was simple. Hormones. Ego. Thinking with his penis. Again.
Liam groaned heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He needed a drink. A strong one. Bottle of bourbon maybe? Or perhaps something a little stronger – like absinth? He had a bottle stashed away for when times were really tough.
As Liam scooted himself over to the filing cabinet behind him, a knock came at the door.
Drew.
‘What do you want?’ Liam said as he kicked himself back to his desk.
‘I… I…’ Drew rubbed his nose and sniffed profusely. ‘I… I just wanted a chat.’
Liam climbed out of his chair, took a step forward and paused a foot away from Drew. The man’s pupils were like disks. His pores were open, his lips parted, his chest bouncing up and down ferociously.
The symptoms were the same. Always the same.
‘Empty out your pockets,’ Liam ordered.
Drew’s eyes widened even further. ‘You what?’
‘Don’t “you what?” me, fella. I said empty your pockets.’
Tentatively, Drew placed his hands in his front and back trouser pockets, removing his phone, wallet and a loose business card that had his contact information on it.
‘What’s this about, Liam?’
‘All your pockets.’
Drew’s face dropped. Busted, and he knew it. Slowly, his hand moved inside his blazer pocket.
As soon as he pulled out the small bag of powder, Liam yanked it from Drew’s hand and threw it to the ground. Then he grabbed Drew’s collar and shoved him against the wall, using his body weight to pin Drew in place, leaning into him with one arm pressed against the man’s collarbone.
‘Guv! Relax! What are you—’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Liam growled in Drew’s face, baring his teeth, keeping them pressed together so his voice didn’t travel through the walls. ‘What the fuck are you playing at? You’re using again? I thought you’d stopped.’
Drew babbled like a baby, struggling to cogently place his words in a sentence.
‘You said you’d stopped,’ Liam grunted.
‘I had!’
‘The evidence suggests otherwise. So don’t lie to me, Drew. Don’t fucking lie to me!’ He was seething with anger. ‘Is this why you keep hassling me to speak with Henry? So you can get your next fucking fix?’
Drew nodded sheepishly.
‘I don’t believe it. I…’ Liam released his grip on Drew and shoved him onto the ground before stepping over him. ‘I’ve told you to get away from it, Drew. That stuff will fuck you up.’ Liam pointed at the packet of powder on the floor. ‘And, trust me, you don’t want to go down that route. It’s very difficult to get back from.’
‘I’ll… I’ll…’ Drew choked as he clambered back to his feet. ‘I’ll try, Liam.’
Liam clenched his fist. He was ready to punch Drew in the face repeatedly – to use him as a boxing bag to vent his frustrations with Tanya – but he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of staying in his head rent-free any longer than she deserved.
‘You need to stop,’ Liam ordered. ‘Otherwise, it won’t be able to continue.’
‘What won’t?’
‘I’ve been doing some thinking. About the possibilities of a partnership. You. Me. Henry.’
‘We already have a partnership…’ Drew brushed himself down and cleared his throat.
‘It’s small-time. Minor. Nothing in comparison to what it could be. Think about it, that shitty estate – with Archie and the rest of them – it’s little league. We want big leagues. Like Milner moving to City. Nobody saw that coming – now look at him. Considering we’re the ones letting Matheson bring the stuff into the country, we should be taking a bigger hit. We just have to find out how. Any suggestions?’
Drew shook his head.
‘Maybe when you’ve sobered up,’ Liam said.
Drew didn’t respond, and for a while neither of them said anything. Even though he’d cleared the air about Drew’s drug habit, there was still an elephant in the room. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to air it out. Liam swallowed. Hard. ‘There’s something else as well.’
‘Oh?’
‘I need you to be honest with me. I won’t get mad if you tell me the truth.’
‘What is it, guv?’
‘Only you know what it is you need to tell me. Hannah Bryant.’
At the mention of Hannah’s name, Drew remained still, placid; the rapid rise and fall of his chest was the only visible part of his body that moved, his entire face glazed over with fear.
‘How do you know about that?’
‘It’s my job to know. And I’m assuming Jake does as well. Is that why you gave him the money?’
Drew sighed. His gaze fell to the floor and he kept it there as he spoke. ‘He found out about it when he took her witness statement. I had no idea she was going to be there. I haven’t seen her since then. Hardly recognised her either. It was fifteen years ago.’
‘What happened?’
‘I was just… I was just starting out – with Pete. She was a little shitbag, causing aggro on the streets. ASBO-related stuff. Minor. Not worth the hassle of dealing with it properly. But she was pretty – really pretty. So I stuck with it. Promised her that if she did a couple of things for me, I’d be able to do a couple of things for her and make the charges go away.’
‘Sexual things?’
‘No! Never any of that. I got her to buy me alcohol and food and cigarettes and drugs and stuff. She’s the one who introduced me to Embassy cigs! I wanted her to think I was a good one, and that I wasn’t just using her for things. One night I invited her over. I’d done a bit of coke beforehand – you know, settle some of the nerves, take the edge off. But when she came over she was jumpy. Nervy. So I offered her some.’
‘She accepted?’
‘Yeah. But not much. Not as much as me. And then we started talking. Getting to know one another. We ordered a takeaway, had a few drinks, and then before either of us knew it, we were in my bedroom, having sex.’
‘Was she conscious?’
‘I… I…’
‘Drew?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. It was all a bit of a blur. I was off my nut.’
‘So you kept doing it anyway?’
‘It felt good. It had been so long since I’d last… you know.’
Liam exhaled deeply, keeping his stress levels as low as he could. He’d promised he wouldn’t get angry, and he was going to honour that.
‘OK… OK…’ Liam said, his mind starting to consider next steps. ‘Who else knows about this? Garrison?’
‘Yeah. He was the one investigating. We managed to dot the Is and cross the Ts on that one so nobody knew we were in the same department. He pretended to be from the Police Complaints Authority. Back then everything was so lax, nobody gave it a second glance.’
‘And what about any evidence?’
Drew sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.
‘Forensics found some on her body. But he managed to get rid of it.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. He promised me. Why? You afraid Jake might do something with it?’
‘I don’t think it’s Jake you have to be worried about this time.’
CHAPTER 28
FLYTRAP
Garrison returned to his desk after taking what felt like the longest shit of his life. It was almost as if it had taken on a life of its own, like that worm inside the copper from the book Filth. But there was one silver lining though: on his way back to the office he’d caught sight of Drew and Liam having a go at one another in Liam’s office. It was difficult not to smile; his plan to split them up was working. They had no idea what he was doing, and they never would either. Confidence could be a cruel mistress, but not this time.
So long as Drew didn’t come running to him expecting him to pick up the pieces. The soppy little shit al
ways looked up to him for guidance and approval, like some stray mutt seeking attention, companionship, someone to look after him. Always had, always would. It was draining, and it was one of the biggest things he was looking forward to during his retirement.
No. More. Drew.
Garrison removed his phone from his pocket, unlocked it and loaded Kingdom of Empires. There was a notification informing him that his clan was under attack. His castles and barracks were rapidly losing men and weapons; he was being ransacked by another clan. All those hours – and the considerable amount of money too – that he’d invested in it, all gone to waste. But right now, there was nothing he could do about it – there was something more important going on.
He had a message he needed to send.
He opened his chat with LG540 and typed out a message.
BBC gone live. D and L arguing already.
Garrison hit send. Waited. And waited. When an immediate response didn’t come, he tapped his foot on the floor, bouncing his knee up and down. He exited the chat and then re-entered, hoping that would force a notification through. The Cabal usually responded quickly. When a response didn’t come, he compiled another message.
Think L will hold press conference. Advise phase 2.
The moment Garrison hit ‘Send’, Drew exited Liam’s office, hurried over and placed his hand on Garrison’s computer monitor. Panicked, Garrison exited the chat and returned to the home screen where his village was being pilfered.
‘Are you playing a game?’
‘Good spot, genius. And what?’ Garrison hoped Drew hadn’t seen anything that would give him away.
‘We’ve got shit to do. Important shit. And not a lot of time to do it. Yet, here you are playing poxy video games…’
Garrison shrugged and gave him a steely, unperturbed look. ‘Practising for when I retire.’
