Never Back Down

by Solomon Carter

  “Those people are warped. I can just feel it. It’s like they have poison oozing out from their pores.”

  “Nothing so dramatic I am afraid. They are like any other of these savages, except they don’t have qualms about violence in order to get what they want. In fact, people like them know this separates them from the normal people, so they wear it as a badge of honour. It’s what enables them to be powerful – and rich - the willingness to knock others down and scramble over their bodies to get what they want while most of us have such restrictive morals.”

  “Who’s being dramatic now?”

  Parker nodded. “Make no mistake, Jess. Those people are among the most terrible criminals in the country. The feeling in your gut is telling you they are bad. And we have more than enough reason to believe that they are holding Dan captive.”

  “That’s all well and good, but what are we achieving here? Shouldn’t we take pictures or something – do something that can help us negotiate with them for Dan’s release?”

  “Pictures of people having fun in a casino? It’s that kind of action that started off Dan’s misfortune. He should have left well alone. But after what he did in the Marka case, he earned himself a reputation for life as a trouble maker. There’s no love lost between Gillespie and Victor Marka, but Gillespie will know all about what Dan went to prison for. Dan was a maverick who tried to take down a major criminal. He didn’t have the excuse of being a cop. He did it for a hobby. By being on Gillespie’s patch, it was only a matter of time before he was removed. That was why his name was on that bloody list.”

  “You know so much,” said Jess, without intonation, watching Parker let go of another pound coin into the glorious Winatron. “Gillespie and Marka. They are enemies, then?”

  “If you’re in this business, and you are working the same patch as a fellow criminal gangster, you are automatically an enemy.”

  “I suppose so,” said Jess, sipping the last of her champagne, searching for a place to leave the empty flute. Before she had stopped looking, an attentive young man in a golden waistcoat took the flute from her with a smile. Jess thought about following him for a chat, the alcohol already giving her a confidence she knew was beyond even her standard levels.

  “I know people who would love to see this meeting. Love it,” said Parker, with a glazed-eyed lust in his eyes as he took a glance away from the machine screen to the faces around the table. “I wish I could hear them. But even the meeting says enough. It says it all loud and clear, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t like Parker at all: he was sweaty and awkward, and far too arrogant to be likeable. She wondered what Parker was thinking, what was really going on in that old addled brain of his that thought it was better than anyone else’s. She wanted to run him through with mockery, to put him in his place, but it was not her call and it definitely wasn’t the time, so she kept quiet, her eyes prodding him like daggers. He felt the glare and responded.

  “Can’t you see? This meeting – out in the open- it’s a statement to everyone that they are working together. They are in cahoots. Surely even Eva will believe it now. Word will spread. They must want it to spread otherwise they wouldn’t be meeting in here… do you understand?”

  “Yep. I went to school and everything. But what I don’t get is why you’re so hot under the collar about it all.”

  “It matters. All of this matters. This is gangster politics, and it’s business, and it’s power.”

  “I still don’t see why you care.”

  His eyes narrowed and softened again. He tried a paternal tone which annoyed her even more. He spoke with a pitying air. “Look. Think of it like this. If you know the game, you can find out who is winning. When you find out who is winning, the rules always change. When the rules change, you can pre-empt the move of your enemy and make your own one instead, but you have to keep up with play to predict their next move.”

  “Okay. So what does that have to do with Dan?”

  There was a pause, it was fractional, but she felt it. And so did Parker. He rushed, chasing the pause, words bumping into one another as he spoke. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? When I work out who is manoeuvring here, and what the game is, I can guess Dan’s whereabouts.”

  “Guess? Dan has two days left to live and all that information just gives you a good guess?” She had overstepped the mark, and saw the old man’s face flush. His voice was tight, keeping control. “You are aggressive, and hot-headed… it could get you hurt if you’re not careful.”

  She scanned his eyes for implication. “I mean if you are intending to become a private investigator yourself. Is that what you want?”

  “Oh. I thought you were threatening me,” she said with a laugh.

  “I wouldn’t ever do that,” he said, and it was true. He had got close enough to save making threats.

  “I could make a good detective.”

  “Time will tell,” he said, looking away into the mirrored ceiling glass, watching the moves at the table.

  “Well, I heard you out, Parker. Here’s how I read it. The Mullet boys are schmoozing with Gillespie. The old man doesn’t like them at all, but he tolerates them because they are local players, but not up to his mark. They brought the Somalis to him to try and prove something, or to get them accepted. That was a bad move, Gillespie doesn’t want in with them or anywhere near them. Now they are here and the Mullets are trying the schmoozing, trying to prove something to him, but Gillespie doesn’t want to know. He couldn’t give a rat’s sphincter about them or what they want to do. He’s playing a game here… what is the game they’re playing?”

  “Roulette. A real gambler’s game.” He said, eyes now fixed on Jess’s for everything, the nuances, the drunkenness, the real meaning behind what she was saying.

  “Absolutely. He’s here for kicks, just out at the casino. They are spoiling it for him.”

  “So?”

  “So, Eva and I- we know the Mullets are involved with Dan. It’s a dead cert. They know what’s happened to him. But as for Gillespie, we haven’t got anything on him. My opinion is that this whole shebang is just a wild goose chase. A complete waste of time we don’t have.”

  “Your reading is wrong, young lady. Right to a point, but I’m telling you, the man over there is the culprit. He’s a monster. We need to find out where Dan is, and while we do it, we can find what else he’s up to and bring him down.”

  “There we go. That’s not our game, Parker. This is all about Dan Bradley.”

  “Is it?”

  “One-hundred percent.”

  “Then you’re very short-sighted. Very short-sighted indeed.”

  “How do you think I’ll do as a detective now?

  “Like I said. Time will tell.” He lied. The girl was intuitive, had common sense, and was analytical, like Eva. But she also wielded an axe to chop the facts away from where they got rooted in the manure. In time she could be better than Eva; if she made it that far.

  The mobile rang in Jess’s clutch bag. Jess smiled benignly at the old man as she answered it. “Yes, nothing so far. They’re just playing Roulette… me and Parker are having a debate about the case. I’ll fill you in later.”

  Parker’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look at her. He watched them at the table now, looking at the gang from the corner of his eyes. As Jess spoke, she felt the silent pressure of eyes upon her again. It was the tall woman with the dark hair, staring at her like a hungry housewife ready to devour a cupcake. It was unsettling, even more unsettling than all of Parker’s bullshit.

  “I don’t know. I think we need to change tactics, Eva.”

  Inside the Calibra, Eva sat feeling frustrated and angry. Parker wasn’t helping at all. What the hell was all this about?

  “Jess. I’ve had enough. Get me a drink. I’m coming in.”

  Jess smiled, but said nothing to Parker. Finally, Eva wasn’t going to play by Parker’s rules anymore. Like the man himself said, when you begin to understand the rules of the gam
e, you can stay one step ahead. This was half a step, but it was a start.

  “What did she say?”

  “Not a lot. I’m going to get another drink.”

  “You’ve had enough already. You’re working, remember.”

  “I remember. And you’re not my dad.”

  Jess walked away from the one-armed bandits and the Roulette tables. There were waiters and waitresses only too glad to take orders and get drinks nearby, but she wanted to get away from Parker. He was stifling her. The room had a long curving bar at one end beneath some pretentiously ornate chandeliers, which dropped thin bright tendrils down into the room. She took up an edge of the bar so she almost faced the gathering of nasties at the Roulette table, with all their meanness and stacks of chips. She looked at them for a minute. None of them looked happy. The shortest Mullet, Lee Mitkin, was talking to Gillespie and one of his thick necked hoods, a big tall man with cropped hair and a Celtic mess tattoo on his neck. Rob Mitkin stood sulking to one side, occasionally glancing around at the women near him, including the tall scary one with the expensive hairdo. The woman stood by Gillespie’s side but appeared disinterested, looking around, scanning the room. The woman avoided any connection with either of the Mulleted ones, and especially avoided Rob Mitkin’s silent advances.

  “Yes, what can I get you, Miss?” said the barman with a professional smile.

  “A glass of white wine, please.”

  “Which would you like?”

  “Anything dry.”

  The barman nodded. “Sauvignon Blanc.”

  When the barman walked away, Jess looked at her purse, ready to open it. Then she looked up at the new heavy presence beside her. It wasn’t Eva. It was the woman with black hair and dark eyes standing right next to her. She seemed to be ordering drinks, but as Jess looked at her, the woman turned at the same moment, looked down and met her eyes. This wasn’t by chance. There was a smile on the woman’s face, a pretty, shark-like smile. Jess’s heart suddenly thudded so loudly it filled all her senses.

  “So, do you come here often?”

  Jess was flummoxed. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” The woman was taller than her by a few inches. But the intimidation had nothing to do with height; it was menace, an aura that seeped out of her.

  The barman returned with a glass and a smile. “I’ll get that,” said the woman, putting a crisp twenty in the man’s hand before Jess could snap out of it and complain.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Louise,” said Jess almost too quickly.

  “Louise. I’m Maggie. I’m with that group over there if you want to join us. “

  “Thanks, but I’m with a friend tonight.”

  “You mean the sad old bastard by the fruit machines. He’s old enough to be your grandfather and I’ll bet he couldn’t fuck himself out of a brown paper bag.”

  Jess smiled. That was pretty funny. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I guessed that part. So who is he?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “A sugar daddy, I expect. You can do better than him. Come to my table. We can chat while the little boys play.”

  It was a bad move, a dangerous move, but she thought about it. It was a break; it was a chance, wasn’t it? There was a chance she could get close enough to hear what was going on. The woman was intense, and yes, maybe she was a dyke or something, but so what? They didn’t know her, and Parker was living on scraps here. To find Dan they needed something new, didn’t they? Here it was. “Why not?” said Jess, already formulating a personality and history for friendly little Louise just as Eva came in past reception into the main room to see her moving away with Maggie - the meanest woman Eva had ever dealt with in her life. Eva held back the urge to cry out to Jess. As Jess and Maggie made it to the Roulette table, Eva found Parker’s eye in the distance, and Eva slowly shook her head in condemnation of all Parker’s mistakes. This was bad. It had just gotten out of hand.

  Eva gestured for Parker to join her out of sight of the Roulette table. He walked slowly so as not to draw looks. Eva thought how out of place he looked, how slovenly and withdrawn, and shambling in his old suit. The man had clearly had his day in this business, and it was back in the eighties when Minder was the best thing on telly. Under the bright lights and against the contrast of the happier faces she saw how much of a wreck Devon Parker had become – and how different he had once been. Just ten years before, he had held the suave demeanour of someone like an aged Bryan Ferry, with all the posh affectations included, but now any imagined glamour in the man had gone completely rusty. The more she studied him, his walk, his hunched shoulders – all the things which were hidden in restaurant meetings - she saw that he looked broken. This prompted a new set of concerns in Eva, some distant alarm bell was ringing in her head, but she couldn’t tell what it was yet. The overall effect was the same. Devon Parker bothered her more than ever. For several evident reasons, she could no longer rely on his judgement or his leadership in this case.

  “You said you were staying outside.” She gave him the keys to his old Vauxhall.

  “I thought you were looking after her.”

  “I was.”

  “It looks like you’ve fed her to the sharks.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. The girl served herself up on a silver platter to them. She’s trying to impress you.”

  “I’d be impressed if we got out of this scrape without getting hurt.”

  “The girl is impetuous and a meddler. You shouldn’t have brought her. I don’t like her ideas on this. It’s slanted the wrong way. Gillespie is your man, but if I listen to her, it makes me think you have another view. Wake up, Eva!”

  She wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around by a man who could barely dress himself. Parker’s shambolic state of mind showed in his furrowed brow, baggy eyes and shaking jowls.

  “I think you’ve had your say already, Devon. We don’t have the luxury of time, and this is not getting us closer. At least Jess is in the proximity of the Mitkin brothers now. If they drop a word about this, she’ll hear it. But that woman is dangerous.”

  “I’ll say…” said Parker, with a leering tone.

  “Stop thinking with your trousers, Devon. That woman has evil in her eyes.”

  “Not now she doesn’t.”

  Between the gaps in the crowd they could watch a zoetrope view of the Roulette proceedings, as people passed through their vision. The tall woman and Jess were right beside the table, but set apart and back a little way from the men. One of the lumps in suits who was with Gillespie seemed to be interested in what the ladies were talking about, his attention flitting between the table and the women. Rob Mitkin, too, let his eyes wander from the table, his arms folded and his face depressingly sulky. “Rob Mitkin is not at the races,” said Eva.

  “Doesn’t mean a thing. These people are all about posing.”

  “Hhhhmmmm,” hummed Eva. It wasn’t worth sharing her views with Parker - he played the role of Devil’s advocate on everything.

  “You work as an office girl for a law firm?” said Maggie. There was a thin Irish lilt in her voice, which was firm and direct. “You don’t look the type. You look like a girl who answers phones and is looking for a way out. Your head’s not in your work, is it? I can tell.”

  The woman couldn’t tell a bloody thing, but at least her attention was focused on Louise, whom Jess was making up with a mixture of half-truths and complete fabrication. Jess emphasised her slight drunkenness, hoping that it would provide her an allowance for any stupid comments or mistakes she made in character. One of the lumps near them was eavesdropping, the one with a Celtic design tattooed on his neck. “Best make it good”, she told herself. She also noticed the taller Mullet, serious Rob, glance in their direction at least once. They were faking disinterest, both of them, but interested they were. At the same time as listening to the woman called Maggie and playing her role, she strained to listen to Lee Mitkin, who was talking quickly a
nd enthusiastically about something to do with movement of stock, and of an increased profit margin. It was about the Kingsmere Estate, as he referred to one of the blocks by name. “We’ve dealt with most of the problems there now, cleaned it up real good. And that’s where the black boys come in.”

  “I don’t need to hear about that. Nothing to do with me, I told you. Not ever.”

  “Right,” said Lee, seemingly oblivious. “Anyway, between us we’ve cleared out the opposition now. We run the whole gaff now.”

  “Good for you. You run it or they do?” said Gillespie, laughing. “Sure you’re not kidding yourself here?”

  Rob grunted from his position near the table, set apart from them. “You’re talking for no reason, Lee. I told you, he’s not interested. Play the game and forget about it. He’s made a decision to play safe, haven’t you, Mr Gillespie.”

  “Nothing wrong with playing safe. Or keeping your cards close to your chest. Is there, Robert?”

  A barbed comment with a hidden double meaning. There were levels to this, she wondered if Lee was smart enough to pick up on that. So far, so good; there was an understanding between the Mitkins and Gillespie, but not a partnership, just a business relationship. Perhaps Gillespie was a supplier, or backed them half-way. Clearly, he did not like the Somalis at all. What was the deal between Rob Mitkin and Gillespie here? Something was off.

  “Did you hear me, sweetheart?” the woman said firmly.

  “Huh?”

  “Why do you do that work? I reckon one of the solicitors took a liking to you. Surely they didn’t pick you based on your legal experience, because I reckon you can’t even say paralegal, let alone spell it. Did you date any of them? Sleep with any of them?”