Top Dog

by Kerry Kaya

  Moray thought for a few moments. He still didn’t agree with Danny’s plans of putting them on the doors. He didn’t trust these men, not when they could so easily try and take the doors back for Freddie. At the same time, he had no idea of what else he was supposed to do with them. The understanding he and Danny had finally come to, had been to let Danny deal directly with the men. He, himself, had wanted no part in it. “Go down to the Becton Arms. If I need to shuffle you around, I’ll let you know later on, once I’m back from the hospital.”

  Moray watched the three men leave his office. As much as he distrusted them, he had to admit, for all intent and purposes, they did come across as sincere.

  * * *

  George’s celebrations were short lived. The six o’clock news broadcast had brought some worrying news for his family. The body found amongst wasteland, in Barking, had to be Nico. He could feel it in his gut.

  “What should we do?” Alexandros asked, his voice raised, so he could be heard above the furious shouts from his family members.

  George stood quietly, brooding. He could feel the ache, once again beginning to build up inside his chest, and he sat down at the table, heavily. He wasn’t a well man. Ever since Nico had gone missing, the constant ache inside of him had been there. Some days, he could feel a tight vice-like grip around his chest. It felt as though it was squeezing the life out of him. He dabbed at his clammy forehead and loosened his tie. He needed air.

  “Are you okay, George?” Alexandros asked. There was more than a hint of concern in his voice.

  George shook his head. “Water,” he gasped.

  Alexandros snapped his fingers together. “Adam, get some water, now,” he shouted.

  Passing over the glass of water, he watched, as his brother took a sip, before taking a bottle of aspirin from his jacket pocket.

  “Here, let me help you,” Alexandros said, taking the bottle from George and opening it. He passed over a tiny white pill, and watched as George swallowed it down. “What’s going on?” he asked, concerned. “Are you ill, brother?”

  George remained silent. He suspected his heart was giving out. What else could be causing the pain?

  “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “No,” George answered. The truth was, he was scared. All he had to do was resolve the situation with Nico, and then he would be fine. He was in denial.

  Alexandros watched his brother warily. He sat down beside him, unsure of what he could do to help. George had always been the head of their family. Without his orders, they were lost.

  Finally, George spoke. “Pass me a telephone, and give me the phone number for the incident room.” He was going to do what he should have done weeks ago. He was going to bring Nico home.

  * * *

  Josie Morgan pulled her blonde hair up into a ponytail. The news broadcast had just gone live, and now they were waiting patiently, to catch the lead they so desperately needed to solve this case.

  When the phone rang, she hastily picked it up. “Detective Constable Morgan,” she said into the receiver. She listened intently, before waving her hand toward Ronnie, to gain his attention.

  Ronnie immediately looked across his desk toward the younger woman. Her eyes were wide and she nodded her head, as she mouthed, “I’ve got something.” He watched, as she took down some particulars, then put down the phone.

  “Guv, a young male, same age as our victim, has been missing two weeks,” she said.

  Ronnie’s heart leapt. Grabbing up his jacket, he slipped it on. “Come on,” he said. “This could be exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”

  * * *

  Moray was about to buzz the intercom to the Intensive Care Unit, when he spotted police officers through the glass door panels. “Fuck it,” he thought to himself. He knew, instinctively, they were there about Danny and the shooting. It was only a matter of time, before they turned up to investigate.

  He would need to get his story straight. As far as they needed to know, he and Danny were not only distant cousins, but business partners. He was only thankful his business was legit, and that he had the paperwork to prove that fact.

  Walking toward Danny’s bedside, he pretended to be oblivious to the police presence.

  “Excuse me, sir, can we have a word?”

  Moray turned to look at the officers. His eyebrows were arched in mock surprise. “How can I help you, officers?” he asked. He knew how to play the game, and he quickly answered their questions without faltering.

  Once they were finished questioning him, he watched, as the officers left the ward, hoping it was the last he would see of them. He then turned his attention back to Danny. “How is he doing?” he asked Sophie.

  “He’s doing well. He’s started to come around.”

  “When will he fully wake up?”

  “It varies from patient to patient, but all of the signs are good.”

  Satisfied, Moray sat at Danny’s bedside. Come on, mate, he silently willed.

  * * *

  Danny was feeling groggy. He opened his eyes gingerly. His head felt as though he’d spent the past week out on the piss. He gave a small cough and brought his hand up to his chest, grimacing, as pain shot through him, just below his shoulder.

  “How are you doing, mate? It’s good to have you back.”

  Danny slowly turned his head to see Moray sitting beside him. “What happened?” he asked. Everything seemed hazy.

  Sophie had warned Moray that this could happen. “You were shot, mate.”

  Danny was confused. He couldn’t remember. The only thing he knew for certain, was that he felt tired, so very tired. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again.

  * * *

  Sophie stopped by Danny’s bed. “See, I told you. He’s doing well,” she smiled. “It’s perfectly normal for him to be feeling tired. It’s the sedation he was given causing that.”

  “So he’s on the mend?” Moray asked.

  “Yes, we should be able to move him to the general ward soon.”

  Moray was feeling happier. He couldn’t wait to tell their men that Danny was doing okay. He knew they would be as relieved as he was.

  * * *

  The restaurant had been cleared. Only George and Alexandros remained. They sat at one of the tables. Opposite them, were the two detectives.

  “My nephew, Nico, has been missing for two weeks. This body you found, we believe it could be him,” George explained.

  Ronnie was gentle as he spoke. Dealing with relatives and loved ones was always tough. “There is a good chance that this isn’t Nico. Until we can confirm either way, please don’t presume that it is him. There is still a high possibility that your nephew is alive and well. Once we’ve accessed Nico’s dental records, we can determine if it is or isn’t him.”

  “We can identify him now, if you want us to.”

  Ronnie shook his head, sadly. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

  George and Alexandros looked toward each other. They were confused. How would they be able to identify Nico, if they couldn’t see the body? “I don’t understand. Why can’t we see him?” Alexandros asked.

  Ronnie cleared his throat. “I’m afraid viewing the remains is not a viable option.” He could see their confusion, and explained himself further. “The body isn’t in very good condition, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh.” George wearily wiped his hand across his face, and made the sign of the cross in front of his chest. Poor Nico, he hadn’t deserved this to happen to him.

  “What can you tell me about Nico? Does he have any enemies?”

  “No, Nico is a good boy. He’s a law student, at the University of East London.”

  Ronnie could hear the pride in the older man’s voice. He smiled gently, all the while, his mind was racing. He wondered, briefly, if there was a link between the law student and the prison situated across the water, in Thamesmead. He couldn’t help but feel there was a connection. Law and prison … they went hand in hand,
after all, and it had been his gut instinct from day one.

  “When will we know if it is Nico?”

  “As soon as we can have access to Nico’s dental records. Then we will get the process underway. It shouldn’t take too long for us to get the results back.”

  “Is there anything else we can help you with?” George asked.

  Ronnie looked around him. He surveyed the recent decorating, and the plush, newly fitted carpet. “You had a shooting in here a few weeks ago. Could there be any link to Nico’s disappearance?”

  George shook his head vigorously. “A random attack, nothing whatsoever to do with Nico. He wasn’t even here when the shooting happened.”

  “And where were you at the time of the shooting?”

  “At home. I told the investigating officers this when they interviewed me. I have no idea who was responsible, or why the shooting took place.”

  “Why have you waited two weeks, before reporting your nephew as missing?” Josie Morgan asked.

  It was Alexandros, who answered, and he opened out his arms to emphasise his point. “You know what young men are like … they meet a woman and they become caught up in the moment. We thought this is what had happened to Nico.”

  “And why do you think differently now?” Josie tilted her head to one side, as she studied them.

  “No one has heard from Nico at all, since he’s been missing. We’re starting to get worried.”

  “And you’ve tried to contact him? I take it you’ve contacted his friends, other family members?”

  “Yes.”

  “And no one has heard from him?”

  “No, this is why we are becoming worried.”

  “Okay.” Ronnie stood up. “Well, we’ll be in touch as soon as we get the results back,” he told them.

  They shook the men’s hands, then walked outside toward Ronnie’s car.

  “What do you think, guv?” Josie asked.

  Ronnie glanced back toward the restaurant. “There’s a lot more to this than they’re letting on. They were too rehearsed with their answers.”

  Josie followed Ronnie’s gaze. She had to agree. It was all too much of a coincidence that they should have a shooting take place in the restaurant, and now the owner’s nephew was missing, presumed dead.

  “I want you to look into the shooting. See what you can find out. There’s a connection here, I can feel it.”

  “I’ll get on it,” Josie answered. She gave the restaurant one final glance, then climbed into the car.

  George watched through the window as the officers left. He was concerned. Despite the friendly manner of the detectives, he had a feeling he had unwillingly opened up a can of worms.

  Chapter 11

  Freddie was out of control. Matty watched warily, as the older man began cutting a copious amount of cocaine on the coffee table.

  “Fuck ‘em all,” Freddie spat. He didn’t need them. He didn’t need anyone. He snorted the lines in quick succession, then looked up. “He should have taken that cunt out when he had the chance.”

  Matty had no idea what Freddie was talking about, but still, he nodded his head in agreement. He’d learned long ago that it was a lot easier, and not to mention safer, to just agree with him when he was in this kind of mood, which just lately, happened to be all of the time.

  “Get down to the estate, now. You need to sort things out for tonight.”

  Matty’s heart sank. He didn’t want to go. He hated the situation he’d been forced into, and hated himself even more, for what Freddie made him do.

  “Why are you still sitting here?” Freddie roared. “I gave you an order.”

  When Matty didn’t move quickly enough, Freddie leapt out of his seat. Using a considerable amount of strength, he slapped the lad across the side of his head. “Don’t fucking disobey me, boy.”

  Matty curled himself into a foetal position. He brought his hands up to his head, in a bid to ward off the blows.

  Finally, Freddie dragged Matty to his feet and pushed him toward the front door. “Get down to that estate, now.” He blew out his cheeks from the exertion. The look across his face was one of pure evil, as he stared hard at the lad.

  “I don’t want to do it, Fred.”

  “Unless you want to end up like Lewis, you’ll do as you’re fucking told.”

  Tears sprang to Matty’s eyes. He was terrified. He knew he had no other choice. He either did as he was told, or they would kill him. He’d had the same threat drummed into him for as long as he could remember, and he knew they meant every word. He’d seen them in action.

  He wiped the tears away from his cheeks, and opened the front door. He could feel Freddie stood behind him, and could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck.

  “Unless you want to become the entertainment, you’d better start doing as you’re told. Do you understand me?”

  Matty nodded his head. He knew it was no idle threat. Freddie could make him disappear. He’d done it before.

  * * *

  Danny was sat up in the hospital bed. He’d begun to feel stronger in himself. Earlier that day, the nurses had had him up and out of bed, walking around, and now he was eager to get out of the place and back to business.

  The shooting was still a little bit hazy. He could remember stopping at traffic lights and that was about it. After that, he couldn’t remember anything that had happened. The doctors seemed to think he was blocking it out, because he’d been through a traumatic experience, they’d said. He almost laughed at that. Practically every day, in his line of work, was traumatic for someone or other.

  He smiled, as Moray walked toward him. He looked his friend up and down. Moray was dressed to kill, and he could see a lot more care than usual had gone into his appearance.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “Nowhere.”

  Danny eyed his friend suspiciously. “You’ve got that much aftershave on? I could smell you from twenty feet away, and I’m pretty certain it’s not for my benefit,” he laughed. “What are you up to? Where are you going?”

  Moray was being coy and he averted his eyes. “I’ve got a date.”

  “A date?” Danny raised his eyebrows. He’d never heard Moray mention any particular women before. “Who with?”

  Moray sighed. “If you must know, it’s with one of the nurses who were looking after you.”

  “Oh, I see. So while I was on my deathbed, you were chatting up the nurses?” Danny had to keep the smile from his lips.

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Moray answered, defensively. “I bumped into her in the cafeteria.”

  “I’m sure you did,” Danny laughed. “Well, you have a good time, mate. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks, I will do.” He was clearly embarrassed and swiftly changed the subject. “Listen, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about … a proposition.”

  Danny raised his eyebrows. “Go on.”

  “It can wait until tomorrow. Just bear in mind, you’re going to have to be open-minded about this.”

  Danny threw up his arms. “You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

  “I can and I am,” Moray winked. He shook Danny’s hand and left the ward.

  Danny lay back against the pillows. He was more than intrigued. “Hey,” he called out to the nurse looking after him, “when can I go home?”

  The nurse shook her head. It was the fifth time he had asked the same question in the past hour.

  * * *

  Matty jumped off of the number sixty-two bus, at Gascoigne Estate. He immediately walked toward the estate shops. He was bound to come across one of the junkies there. At least that was where he could usually find them, begging for some spare change so they could go out and score. If he was lucky, he might even come across someone who needed to both score and pay off a drug debt. It was one of the more desperate junkies who he was actually hoping to come across. They would sell anything for the right price, and that was exactly what he was counting on.

 
He stopped and casually leant against the metal shutters of one of the shops. All he had to do was wait. They would come to him. Most of the junkies around here knew what he was about, and he noticed a few turn on their heels when they spotted him. He suspected the temptation was too much for some of them, and he didn’t blame them for walking away. He would do the same if he was in their shoes. In fact, he liked to think he would never actually be in their position. He certainly would never stoop as low as they did, if he was.

  He spotted Tracey, one of the junkies. She was usually good to use, and would sell her soul for the price of some crack.

  “Hey, Trace,” he called out.

  Tracey Underwood swaggered purposely toward Matty. She scratched at her greasy head as she approached him.

  Watching her approach, Matty made a mental note to not stand too close.

  “You got any spare change?” she asked, as she began picking at a scab on her arm. It was a kind of game they played out each time he came here. Eventually, she would give in. The temptation of having money in her back pocket was too high, despite her persistent refusals to begin with.

  Holding out a wedge of cash, teasing her, he watched her eyes widen. He could see her mentally calculating how much crack she could buy with it, and he had to hide the disgust he felt. These junkies were all the same.

  “They need to be home by twelve. Last time, you brought them home too late,” she said, pushing a nicotine stained finger toward him. “And the last thing I need, is the teacher questioning me, or social services breathing down my neck again.”

  Matty shrank backwards. He didn’t want her to touch him. She repulsed him.

  “They will be, I’ll make sure of it.”