by Martina Cole
‘The price we pay for getting old, boy!’
Abad swallowed his drink and his glass was immediately refilled by Petey Webster.
‘Where’s Angus? He taking the fucking piss or what? I hate waiting for people.’
Abad just shrugged. He had no intention of getting into this kind of conversation, especially not with Willy.
Petey was now cutting up lines of coke on the glass surface of the coffee table, big fat white lines that were glistening in the late-evening sunshine. Abad didn’t mind a blast now and again, once his working day was over. He used it to prolong the night, he had never seen the sense in using it to think. The whole deal with coke was you didn’t fucking think, your brain started racing like a train all over the place, and your attention span was limited.
He watched as Willy snorted two huge lines, one after the other. Abad was aware that the other two didn’t follow suit. Then the door crashed open and in walked Angus and Roy, all light-coloured clothes and bonhomie.
Angus rubbed his hands together and said jovially, ‘Right, I’m here! Let’s get this party started!’
Chapter Twenty-six
Willy could hardly contain his annoyance, and everyone in the room was aware of that – especially Angus, who seemed to find it amusing.
Willy’s addled mind wondered if the boy’s youth and arrogance were the real reasons he disliked him so much. He had a good earner with Diana, but to send this child out and expect him to treat him like visiting royalty really rankled. They all watched as Petey poured Angus a Jameson’s and Roy a rum and Coke.
Angus sipped his drink daintily, holding the glass so his pinkie was poking out like Lady Bracknell, and he said in a thick Cork accent, ‘Irish whiskey and guns, the Irish way of life.’
Abad laughed, but Willy didn’t. It annoyed him that the boy didn’t drink Scotch whisky, that he made a point of refusing it to deliberately annoy him. At least, that is what he believed at this moment in time. In all honesty, he preferred Jameson’s himself, but he couldn’t really broadcast that fact to the nation. He was being paranoid, and they could all see it. He was so out of it, he was capable of discovering what he saw as an intended slight in an ashtray.
Willy was once a man of presence and refinement, who was respected by his peers, and whose name could instil fear into the hearts of the hardest men in Europe. Looking at him now, anyone who knew him then would be embarrassed to see the caricature he had become.
Somewhere inside, Willy was thinking all this, he just couldn’t find the words to say any of it out loud. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest that told him he needed to slow down and clear his head. He wasn’t a complete fool; he still had moments of stunning clarity. Unfortunately, they were becoming few and far between.
Looking around him at the young men who he knew intended to mug him off, he felt a pang of sorrow. They were nice lads in their own ways, and he would kill them humanely. A bullet to the head, quick and clean. After all, as he had explained to his partners, he wasn’t a cruel man, this was just business.
Diana would see the sense of it; she knew the danger that young fucker would one day be to her. He had too much of his old man in him for Willy’s liking. He was a natural-born thief. But unlike his old man, he didn’t rob banks – he wanted to rob the hands that were feeding him.
Willy knelt down and snorted another couple of lines of near pure cocaine. He snorted with real zeal, throwing his head back and sniffing loudly. He felt the rush as it hit his brain, and wondered why he had never bothered with this before. He was like a born-again teenager, and he could feel the stench of treachery all around him. Even his wife was beginning to seem a bit off with him. What was her problem? He worked hard and he played hard – she’d known that from day one.
‘Any of that left to sell to the punters, Willy?’
Willy grinned and said sarcastically, ‘Plenty more where that comes from.’
Angus smiled that amiable, friendly smile he had that made people like him. ‘I’m only asking because you are snorting it like it’s an Olympic fucking sport. I haven’t seen someone snort so fast since the barrister at my dad’s trial!’
Now they did all laugh – even Willy, who was experiencing one of his lightning mood changes.
‘You’re a cheeky little sod!’
He stood up unsteadily and pulled Angus into a tight bear hug that lasted long moments. Everyone in the room knew it had to hurt, but Angus didn’t make a sound. He just allowed it to happen and smiled that easy smile that aggravated Willy so much.
Eventually, exhausted, Willy let him go. He looked deranged – even his magnificent hair suddenly looked electrified. He felt that he was somehow letting himself down, there was a part of him that knew he was too out of it again. Angus just patted him on the shoulder gently and went across to the sofa, where he sat down.
Abad had moved over so Angus could join him. Willy observed them for a few seconds and realised that they really were the new generation, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the march of time. He envied them their youth and the times they lived in; he hated that they were both only there because of the people who had created them. Neither of these fuckers had ever really known the streets. Never had to do a day’s real collar in their lives. It had all been handed to them on plates.
He would enjoy getting rid of Angus especially, because he was an irritating little twat who had an arrogance that really got his goat. The jury was out on Abad at the moment, but he wasn’t ruling it out. Abad’s old man was pussy-whipped these days, but Willy could see it for the fucking liberty it was. If Abad decided to play the hero when his playmate was being removed from the premises, he would have signed his own death warrant.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Willy knelt on the floor once more and sat back on his hunkers. Larry Pike pushed another large vodka into his hands, and he took a deep draught before he settled his gaze on the two young lads. He was aware of Roy being there, but that was par for the course. Diana wasn’t letting this ponce out without a minder, and he completely understood that. Roy Rogers had his creds, there was no doubting that.
He watched Angus and Abad in fascination. They looked what they were: friends, old mates, two vibrant young men who had led a charmed life. Angus sipped his whiskey and smiled. As the two men began chatting, it was as if nothing that had just gone on had been noteworthy. Willy had squeezed that skinny little fucker like an orange and – he had to give credit where it was due – the lad hadn’t batted an eyelid. He knew men who would have been destroyed by his actions, because they would have understood it was a precursor to something much more serious.
He watched them intently; his brain was in overdrive and his heart was beating loudly in his ears. ‘You look immaculate, Abad. Is that Armani?’
Abad nodded. ‘Got it in London last time I was over, bought myself some blinding gear, and stopped off at Browns for me shoes, thanks to your tip, Angus!’
The two men laughed jovially. Willy shook his head in mock despair. Was this really the next generation of Faces? His brain couldn’t take it in.
‘You sound like a right pair of tarts, going on about clothes and shoes like a pair of fucking women.’
Angus laughed ostensibly good-naturedly. ‘Oi, you! Being well turned out isn’t a crime these days, is it?’
There was a hint of underlying menace in the question but Willy was too far gone to pick up on it.
‘Seriously, can you two hear yourselves?’
Abad took his lead from Angus; he knew when to keep his trap shut.
Angus laughed out loud – a real laugh, deep and rich – and, looking at Willy, he said, ‘I hear you were a bit of a gent in your day, Willy, all bespoke suits from Savile Row and monogrammed shirts! Eddie Richardson said they used to call you the dog’s gonads.’
Now all the men were laughing, even Roy, because that was true: he had been a dandy in his day had Willy McCormack.
Willy swallowed down the rest of
his vodka. Once again, his glass was immediately replenished. He pulled himself to his feet and wiped his nose vigorously. He was well aware that he was getting a reputation, but he didn’t give a shit. He was Big Willy McCormack, he could do what the fuck he liked. Especially on the Port.
He looked at Angus and wondered how Diana, who had a shrewd business brain, and who could coax a guinea out of a ten-pence piece, could have got this kid of hers so wrong. His boys were like him: shrewd to a fault. He had made sure of that. He laughed suddenly, a genuine laugh.
‘Here, Angus, you still doing that word-a-day thing with the dictionary?’
Angus stood up and, laughing along with Willy, he said, ‘Funny you should say that, Willy. My new word yesterday was “miscreant”. It’s another word for traitor. It’s a great one, it rolls off the tongue. Miscreant: it means immoral, evil, unprincipled.’
Abad felt the danger in the air and wondered where this was all leading. He could feel the tension coming off Angus in waves.
‘Miscreant. A posh word for a cunt, if you like, Willy.’
Willy was completely and utterly drunk now, as well as coked out of his box. He was aware that something was occurring; he just couldn’t quite work out what that might be.
Angus walked to where Willy was standing by the huge glass windows, and he said smoothly, ‘Now today’s word is a fucking belter. It’s “defenestrated”.’
Willy was nonplussed for a moment. But he was willing to get into the craic – he had forgotten that he was going to kill this boy, and that it had all been planned to the last detail.
‘De fucking what?’
Roy stood up and joined Petey and Larry. The atmosphere was charged. Even Willy was aware that there was something not quite right.
‘It means to die by being chucked through a fucking window. Who would have thought there was a word for that?’ Angus was genuinely amused that such a word could be in the English language.
Willy was looking at him with absolute amazement. And he had to agree that was a showstopper, in all fairness. A word for such a criminal act didn’t seem possible, but one thing he knew was that Angus took his words very seriously. Somewhere in Willy’s head he wondered if it was a legal term.
‘It could happen to anyone, Willy, especially to someone who was foolish enough to think they could get one over on me or mine.’
Once the words had finally penetrated his brain, Willy looked around him with abject disbelief. He saw his two oldest friends and Roy Rogers, a man he admired and had always liked, surrounding him. Angus was still smiling that fucking annoying smile he had; he was clearly enjoying himself. And why wouldn’t he? Willy would have been smiling like that himself if the boot had been on the other foot.
He had been well and truly outfoxed, tucked up, and the treachery of his oldest mates was not lost on him. He was absolutely devastated. He looked at Larry Pike and Petey Webster, who he had brought up the ranks and given a good living to. He was a dead man – there was no way out of this – and somewhere in his drink- and drug-addled brain he knew he had brought it all on himself.
‘Fucking come on then, you treacherous bastards. I ain’t going down without a tear-up.’
Abad watched as Willy put up a good fight, but he was no match for the four men who systematically beat him to a pulp and, once they had subdued him, picked him up and threw him unceremoniously through the large glass windows that overlooked the Mediterranean and the beautiful beach.
When it was over, Angus poured himself another large Jameson’s and, looking at Abad, he said conversationally, ‘I’ve booked us a table at my mate’s restaurant. They do beautiful sea bass, but good steak too if that’s what takes your fancy.’
Abad smiled, as was expected of him. This wasn’t his circus, and these certainly weren’t his monkeys. He had no intention of getting involved in any way.
‘Sounds good to me, mate.’
Angus shook hands with Larry and Petey. Leaving them to sort out the mess, he walked out with Abad and Roy, his step light and his laughter hanging on the air.
When they had gone, Larry shook his head sagely and said to Petey, ‘I’ll ring his old woman. She made a deal with Diana, she knew this had to go down.’
Petey shrugged. ‘Didn’t we all! I tell you now, Larry, he wouldn’t listen to reason. We both tried to tell him, to warn him. It’s a fucking shame. I loved him like a brother.’
Larry shrugged dispassionately. ‘Listen to me, Petey, he became a liability and a potential laughing stock. If that man was in his right mind, and it was one of us in his position, we would have been outed a lot sooner.’
Petey Webster looked at the devastation around him and, picking up a bottle of whiskey, he said sadly, ‘True.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Diana hung up the phone. ‘It’s done, Gabe, he slung him through a window at Magico. Apparently he landed in the car park. So that’s that. But I do wish sometimes that my Angus wasn’t such a showman.’
Gabriel shrugged. ‘In fairness, Di, this was a warning that was being sent out to everyone we deal with, so it had to be a bit spectacular. This wasn’t just a disappear-off-the-face-of-the-earth job, leaving everyone wondering what the truth was. This was a fucking lesson for everyone concerned. Willy had asked for it – he was going to kill your son, remember – so this needed to be dramatic.’
Diana nodded, because Gabriel had a point. It was his intention of harming her son that had really sealed Willy’s fate.
‘It was certainly that, by all accounts. His head split like a fucking pistachio nut. Once I heard he was snorting his own gear, I should have stepped in.’
Gabriel just shrugged again. ‘Shoulda, woulda, coulda – the old story, girl. He was a fool to himself, and even his old woman knew that.’
Diana sighed. She sipped at her wine.
‘He was great, back in the day – he could make a cat laugh. He was good to me after my old man died too. It’s a shame that he ended up a pathetic cliché – his family deserved better than that. He deserved better than that.’
Gabriel didn’t answer. As far as he was concerned, it was over.
Big Willy McCormack had a special place in her heart, but Diana knew this was no time for sentiment. She changed the subject and poured herself another large wine. She was secretly proud of her Angus. She was beginning to understand that in this new world showmanship was a necessary evil – unlike the days of old, when everything was kept under the radar. She consoled herself with the fact that she could walk away in another few years, as long as her Angus kept on doing the good deeds.
He was the new breed, as Gabriel kept pointing out. She would sit back and observe, but that wouldn’t stop her from putting in her ten pence, should she feel the need. Obviously. But if she was honest, totally honest with herself, she was pleased with Angus and his night’s work.
His father would have been over the moon. He had proved himself a formidable opponent: he had arranged for the police presence, for the witnesses who saw Willy ‘jump’, and for the negotiations with the people closest to Willy, bringing them on board. Her boy had an innate cunning which he had inherited from her. Now she was willing to give him his head for a while; she was interested to see how he coped with the life.
So far, he was doing pretty well. But she still had a few people watching out for him, not just Roy. She knew this could get nasty, and Angus had to understand the need to cover all bases.
If he couldn’t, he was in the wrong profession.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Angus was in the Electric nightclub – VIP bar of course – and was being treated like the King of the Banús.
Tonight he had made his mark. He knew that it was with his mother’s permission, but even that couldn’t piss on his firework. As Roy had pointed out, she was the main Face on the Costa and basically everyone worked for her in one way or another. He had also pointed out that his dad’s reputation, along with his mother’s, was an asset if he would only embrace
his name and his family connections.
Angus saw that he talked a lot of sense, especially as he had told him what to do and what to say to get Big Willy McCormack’s people on board. Roy had told him in such a way that he had had no choice but to listen and learn. That was his mother’s influence. He had really had a learning curve with this trip. He had always liked and respected Roy, because he had his creds – and Angus also knew that he would die for him, if the situation warranted it. Now he could see he could learn a lot from him too.
His mum could generate real loyalty, and it wasn’t just because she paid a good whack. His mum knew the name of everyone who worked for her, no matter how lowly, and she also knew the names of her workers’ spouses and kids. Diana was loved and respected because she made a point of remembering the details of her people’s lives, and he had heard that from Roy.
Roy had been determined to make him listen, for once in his life, and to also understand that he was still a young gun, and nothing came easily to anyone. Angus had no problem with killing Willy; he had no qualms about murder. He had no conscience, as such – though he had always liked Willy’s kids, and he hoped they could all still be friends. He was aware that his mum had struck a deal with Willy’s wife, an old friend of hers from way back.
It had finally hit him out here in Marbella, the truth of the life he was a part of. He would always remember what Roy had explained to him, and how he had made sure that he understood exactly what the score was in the criminal world. He looked around him; he could feel the admiration and the excitement that being in his company was causing. He was finally on his way, and he believed that he had acquitted himself as well as he could.
He saw Abad smooching two blondes, and he grinned as he saw him grab both their arses at once. They had a lot in common – like him, Abad had a lot to live up to. Angus saw a girl with white-blonde hair and the bluest eyes he had ever encountered looking at him hungrily. She was dressed just enough to interest him, and she had good legs. He motioned for the bouncer to let her into the VIP area, and she smiled at him seductively as she sashayed towards him.
