by Anna Smith
‘Jan?’
‘Who is this?’ His tone was flat. But his voice brought back a surge of memories.
‘I like to think of myself as one of your good friends, Jan.’
A couple of beats, then she heard Jan give a little chortle.
‘Ah, Sharon. Of course. My very good friend indeed. How are you? I think about you and wonder where you are these days . . . after everything.’
‘Well, I’m alive, Jan, and very much kicking.’
‘I bet you are. I’m very happy to hear your voice. Where are you?’
‘I’m in Spain. Doing some business here.’
‘Ah, I see.’
Discreet as ever, Sharon thought. She’d hoped he’d be. When she’d spoken to Kerry, Danny and Jack last night on a conference video call on her laptop, she’d told them that she knew she could trust Jan. It was her suggestion that they bring him in on the plan. All she had to do now was convince him.
‘So, Jan. Are you busy these days? Much work?’
‘Some,’ he said. ‘Now and again. Not as regularly as with you. But I make a living.’
‘Not retired yet to the dream life on the sunkissed beach then, knocking up cocktails for rich ex-pats?’
He laughed. ‘Not yet. But one day.’
Sharon waited a couple of seconds, knowing that he’d be intrigued by her call. Then she broke the silence.
‘Jan. Listen. I’ve got this plan that might just make that dream of yours a reality.’
‘Ha! You have? And will I live to tell the story?’
She knew she couldn’t lie to him.
‘Well, sure there’s a risk with everything, as we all know. But you’ve lived all your life with risks, haven’t you?’
‘I have. I’m not afraid of risks.’
‘That’s what I want to hear.’ She paused and listened to him breathing for a moment. ‘I’ve got a job for you if you want it. Only you though. It would bring you a fortune – enough to disappear and build your own dream in a far-off land if that’s what you want. Enough to secure the rest of your life, so that the only risk you take is how long to stay out in the sunshine. What do you think of that?’
‘Oh, I like that. Do I have to kill someone? Because it’s not really my thing.’
She knew he was toying with her and she laughed.
‘Ha! No. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary. But then that’s always the way. I want you to drive from a location – I’m not quite sure where at the moment but it will be in Spain, I believe – to the UK.’
‘And what is my cargo?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Yep. Nothing. All you have to do is follow a truck that I will give you details of, in due course. You just follow it at a discreet distance, for as long as it goes, wherever it goes. It will be going from Spain, probably to Portsmouth.’
‘And I just follow this truck?’
‘Yes. Then later you pick up a few troops, and they go in the back of your lorry. So you’d have to make sure it’s comfortable and able to accommodate them as they might be there for a few hours at least.’ She paused. ‘And there will be some weapons on board for the operation ahead.’
There was a long moment of silence, and Sharon was picturing Jan’s big impassive face as he processed the information, no doubt assessing correctly that this could be a bloody shitstorm. Anything he’d done before had been to transport the goods and walk away. This was different.
‘Hmmmn. I see, Sharon. It seems risky.’
‘Yeah. That’s why you get paid the big bucks, Jan. And I mean big bucks.’
Again the silence as he assessed the risk.
‘And how much?’ he asked.
‘Two million. In your bank account. Half when you start driving, the rest when you get to Portsmouth and shadow the truck until it stops.’
‘Then I walk away.’
‘Yep. Then you walk away. You disappear. Take a flight somewhere and the world is your oyster.’
‘It sounds very, very tempting. But also dangerous.’
‘It’s all of that. But it’s a once in a lifetime chance, Jan.’ She waited. ‘Are you in? You are the only man I would trust with this operation.’
The silence seemed to go on so long that Sharon’s heart sank. A risk too far maybe for Jan, the man who’d been happily driving truckloads of drugs for fifteen years. Then he spoke.
‘I’m in. Let me know the details when you can.’
Sharon let out a little sigh of relief.
‘Thank you. I knew I could count on you. We’ll talk later.’
He hung up without answering.
*
Frankie Martin ordered another Jack Daniel’s and Coke from the bar of his hotel. As the barman slid the drink across to him, Frankie eased himself off the bar stool and picked up his drink. He could see that the bar in the swish city centre hotel was beginning to get busy with people heading for pre-dinner drinks or on their way to a function. It wasn’t the kind of hotel where Frankie would have expected to bump into anyone who may recognise him, but just on the off chance, he decided to head to his penthouse suite. As he came out of the lift and walked along the long corridor to his room, he felt his shoulders sag a little, and he tried to shake off the gloom that was rising in him. This would be his last drink for the night, he promised himself, as he was beginning to feel morose. He’d noticed that any time he’d come back to Glasgow in recent weeks he’d felt this sense of loss. Even though he didn’t want to live here, and he knew the old life he’d had was dead and gone, somehow just being back in the city, with its smells and its noise and its greyness, made him feel something akin to grief. He couldn’t quite understand it, but he had to shake out of it right now. In a darker moment in bed last night, he’d even been stupid enough to mull over the ridiculous scenario that he could contact Kerry Casey and push a deal towards her that would bring him back into the fold. What the Christ was he thinking about? Where did that come from? He’d well and truly burned his boats when he set up Mickey’s execution, and then the funeral debacle. There was no way back for him, and even if there ever had been, he couldn’t work under Kerry. No way. But his ego kept niggling away at him. Deep down he felt that if Kerry was out of the picture, then the boys would come over to him if the money and the deal was right. Money bought loyalty. Always did. Maybe not with Danny and Jack and some of the older guys, but there was young blood in the Casey crew, and with the right deal, maybe, just maybe, he could win them over. It was a ridiculous notion, wasn’t it? he asked himself.
But still he kept thinking about it. What if he duped the whole fucking lot of them? What if he double-crossed Rodriguez and stole the whole lot of the coke for himself? Of all the arseholes he’d met with over the last couple of days, Frankie wondered if he could do serious business with Jumbo Keane, if they were to work together. With forty-plus million pounds of coke, and with the muscle of Jumbo behind them, Frankie could just about take on all comers. Sure it was a crazy plan, he told himself, but it kept coming back. He had to push it away and concentrate on the business at hand. The reality was that he had a job to do in the next few days that was literally a matter of life or death to him. If he failed, he was dead. He had nowhere to run to. He couldn’t come back to Glasgow, and he couldn’t go to Spain where he would be hunted down no matter how long it took. And right now, as he stood watching the lights across the city, his mobile ringing on the bed shook him back to reality.
Frankie knew it was Rodriguez but he wasn’t going to give the fucker the satisfaction of thinking he was jumping to attention. He let it go for three more rings. ‘Hello.’
‘Frankie, hombre. You are good, yes?’
‘Yep. All good, Pepe. Things getting sorted.’
‘So you have set up the deals with people? Are you organised?’
‘Of course. I’m good. Been meeting with people all over the shop the last few days. I’m ready when you are.’
‘And these people, Frankie
. . . You can trust them?’
Frankie thought for a moment before he responded.
‘Well, you can trust them as much as you can trust a lion when you walk into the fucking cage with a fillet steak in your hand. You get in, and get out very fast.’
He heard Rodriguez let out a little laugh, and pictured the handsome bastard’s scheming face.
‘I see what you mean. Is to be expected, of course. Because you will be torn to pieces if you hang around the lion’s cage too long.’
‘Yeah. Long enough to get the money,’ Frankie said. ‘Then get the fuck out.’
‘You have your plans for the meetings and exchange?’
Frankie was growing impatient. What was with the fucking questions? But he knew he couldn’t say that.
‘Pepe. I’m sorted. I’m waiting for you to tell me what next.’
‘Okay. Well you don’t have to wait any longer, amigo. Because tomorrow the shipment is leaving Spain.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes. The plan is for it to be in Portsmouth in two days. I am sending Vic with the driver as backup. He’s done this kind of thing, and he’s good muscle, in case you need it. Nothing can go wrong.’
Frankie thought about Vic for a second. He liked the big guy, but there was something about him that he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was because he didn’t fawn over Frankie or give him any notion that he would take orders from him. He was a hard-looking bastard, but they’d had a few laughs and beers together. A good man to have on your side, he decided.
‘Okay. Might be useful. As long as he knows I’m in charge.’
‘Frankie. This is your show. You know that.’
‘Aye.’
‘Okay. The shipment is coming in a truck carrying steel rollers. You know what I mean? The kind that are used in industry for conveyors, like in packaging or in shipping. They will be different sizes. The rollers are like cylinders, hollow inside, but once the cocaine is in there, then they are secured at each side with more steel screwed in to keep everything in place. I’ve seen the shipment. It looks good.’
Frankie pictured how the rollers would look and concluded it was a pretty good way to stash a lot of coke.
‘Yeah. That sounds good to me.’
‘So all you have to do is make sure everything goes well once it arrives in the UK, and is brought to wherever you have organised it to go.’
Frankie had organised a warehouse in Trafford Park industrial estate on the outskirts of Manchester, where the coke would be stashed for the hours before the dealers arrived. An old mate, Benny Evans, who he’d known from the Costa del Sol, owned it, and for fifty grand in his hand, Benny told him he could stash his haul there as long as it was gone by morning. Benny said he didn’t want any filth sniffing around his doorstep as he’d been smuggling cannabis freely and unnoticed for more than a decade. So he’d better be sure that the cops weren’t following his truck. Frankie assured him it was watertight, and over a few stiff drinks, Benny knew he couldn’t knock back fifty big ones without even having to lift a finger. Frankie’d arrange for each of the dealers to come separately to pick up their cut and part with their cash. He had thought of meeting each dealer individually on the way up from Portsmouth. But it was too risky. Better to have the gear in a place where he could have several armed troops stationed around and watching. The obvious risk was an ambush on the way up the road, but it was going to be hard to eliminate that because once you were on a motorway, you never knew who was going to drive up your arse.
‘It’s all sorted, Pepe. Once I know what ferry it is on, I’ll make sure I’ve got people looking after it. I’ve got that all organised. Just give me times and stuff.’
‘Okay. We will talk tomorrow. You are happy, yes?’
Frankie was silent. What kind of fucking question was that, for Christ’s sake? Happy? How in the name of fuck could he be happy overseeing the smuggling of eight tonnes of cocaine into the country, and trying to dodge all the vicious bastards planning to rob him?
‘Yeah, Pepe,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I’m as happy as a pig in shite, me.’
Rodriguez laughed. ‘Good man! Keep smiling, Frankie. Even when the guns are pointing at your head, amigo.’
The line went dead.
‘Keep smiling? Keep fucking smiling?’ Frankie said aloud. ‘Aye right, you dago prick. I’d be smiling if I was looking at your bastard cold grey corpse.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘It’s on the move.’
Sharon’s voice in the early-morning call had woken Kerry from a vicious nightmare where she was back under the table at her brother’s funeral with her mother’s screams as someone was dragging her away, but her body was so heavy that she was paralysed as she tried to move. She was glad when the phone rang.
‘Did I wake you, Kerry? Sorry.’ Sharon sounded bright and cheery.
‘Yeah,’ Kerry said. ‘But I’m glad you did. Was having one of those dreadful nightmares where you’re powerless to move and all hell is breaking loose around you. Weird.’
‘It’s stress, pet. I’ve had a few of those black nightmares, more so in the days after Knuckles’ sidekicks tried to top me. They’ll pass though.’
‘I know. I’m fine. So tell me. What’s happening? The truck is moving?’
‘Sure is. I got a call from Vic this morning to say they’re well up the road to Santander. Looks like they’ll be on the boat tomorrow. It takes around twenty hours, so they’ll not be in Portsmouth until day after tomorrow – early doors. Vic will call me to say exactly which ferry he’s on.’
‘Should I have a couple of bodies on the ferry, do you think? Just to be around watching?’
‘Not sure that would be a good idea in case it arouses any suspicion. Anyway we’ll have big Jan there, and I’ll have him well briefed on what Vic looks like so he can keep an eye on him. He’ll hopefully be travelling not far behind Vic at the moment, as he’s been in Spain since yesterday but he hasn’t called me yet. I’m not expecting him to phone until he’s getting on the boat, so he can give me an update. Have you got people sorted at the other end to meet Jan in Portsmouth?’
‘I have. Jack has handpicked a few and they’ll be on their way there tonight.’
‘Good. All sorted then. What can possibly go wrong!’ Sharon joked.
‘Oh, yeah, sure,’ Kerry said. ‘If only it was as easy as it sounds.’
Sharon’s ballsy outlook made Kerry feel a little more confident, but they had a long way to go.
‘I’ve been trying to second-guess who Frankie will be punting the coke to back here. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?’ Kerry asked.
‘Hmm. Could be anyone really. But it will only be people in the top tier who have the kind of money he’ll be looking for. Uncut coke is like gold to anyone who can get their hands on it, but the price will be mega.’
‘You don’t know who they could be?’
‘Nah. And to be honest, it wouldn’t matter a damn if I did. If they’ve got that kind of money, they’ll be rich and they’ll be powerful – well tooled up if they’re picking up that kind of stash and parting with a shedload of money. So they’ll be well protected. We’ll just have to be the same.’
‘We will be. I’m going to talk to Danny and Jack this morning, because we need a plan in place for where and when we hit the truck.’
‘Okay. You talk to them from your end, so that when Vic phones me tonight or in the morning I can let him know. He might have a couple of ideas to throw in by then. I don’t think he’ll know where Frankie is meeting him until he gets into the UK. But I don’t suppose Frankie will be waiting on the docks waving a flag. I’d be surprised if they don’t get onto the motorway and head north straight away.’
‘You think they’ll come to Glasgow with a haul like that?’
‘Unlikely. Nobody in Glasgow or Scotland has the kind of money to take a good whack of this much coke. But if Frankie’s smart, he’ll have lined up a few dealers – not a lot – but a
few who will be able to afford it. I think he might have a plan to offload it somewhere in the Midlands. Hard to say really. But we’ll know more when Vic calls.’
‘Great,’ Kerry said. ‘It’s so valuable having Vic on the inside. But I can’t help think that he’s really putting himself in the firing line.’
There was a pause before Sharon answered.
‘I know. I’m worried about him. I like him a lot, Kerry. We’re good together. I’m not saying anything will ever come of it, but having him back in my life has been lovely. Even if he wasn’t sticking his neck out for us in this, he saved my life, remember. But hey, I’m not daft. I think we both know how fickle these things can be.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Kerry said, thinking of how Vinny had just walked out of her life.
‘Okay,’ Sharon said. ‘By the way, Jake Cahill’s still here, isn’t he? I know you said he’s stalking Pepe Rodriguez, but I haven’t heard from him at all.’
‘Yeah. You won’t hear from Jake, Sharon. That’s not how he works. He’s like a shadow. I’ll only hear from him when the job is done. Then we can celebrate. But let’s get these next couple of days out of the way first.’
‘Sure. Talk later.’
The line went dead, and Kerry lay back on the pillows, thinking of what Sharon had said about how fickle relationships were. She’d been fickle enough in her own relationships most of her life, and even when she was with Tom, deep down she’d never expected it to last for ever. So when she suffered the miscarriage, it spelled the end for them. But then Vinny came along and knocked her for six. She hadn’t expected that. She ran her hand over the warmth of her stomach and thought of the little life beating inside her. She’d be going in a couple of weeks to get the scan to make sure everything was good with the baby. She wished she could have told Vinny, but it would have been pointless, and anyway, wherever he was, he could at least have told her he was moving away. Maybe one day in the far-off future she would tell him he was a father. But right now, the only relationship that mattered to her was the one with the little baby she was carrying.
