What a Country

by Paul Kirby

  Ifty had an early shift that morning and he rose early as he did most mornings. But he had the semi-naked Rita next to him, so he decided to wake her up with his version of Turkish Delight. Rita loved it. It had been years since Dick had woken her up like that. Now that she was wide awake, she got up and made coffee. As the pair sat in the kitchen, Ifty’s phone made a noise and as he glanced at it, he saw it was Gerry texting him. Gerry was asking if he had Rita’s number as he wanted to speak to her urgently. Ifty waited to reply until he’d left Rita’s, just to be on the safe side. He drank his coffee quickly and made his way to work after giving Rita a peck on the cheek and a squeeze on her ample backside. Once well away from the house, he rang Gerry to find out what it was all about.

  “Morning, Gerry, my good friend. This is early for you isn’t it? What can I do for you?”

  “Have you got Rita’s number, mate? I need to find out what’s going on with Bart and his old man.”

  “Err, I don’t have it myself, Gerry, as I’m sure you know, but it might be in the office. When I get there, I’ll have a look for ya.”

  “Cheers, Ifty. How long do you think that’ll be, mate?”

  “Oooh, ten or fifteen minutes. Leave it with me, Gerry, mate.”

  “Thanks, mate. Speak to you soon.”

  Ifty rang Rita straightaway and asked her if it was okay to pass her number on to Gerry and explained why Gerry had phoned. Rita was alright with that and thought she probably should have done a bit more to find out what was going on, but under her circumstances with Ifty, perhaps it was a good idea that someone else took the reins for a change.

  Ifty left it a while before ringing Gerry back and went through the pretence of the old “took me ages to get it” trick before passing Rita’s number on. Once Gerry got the number, he wasted no time ringing her. Rita quickly sensed Gerry was concerned about her husband and son’s welfare, so she promised she would ring the police and get an update as soon as she could.

  She rang the station immediately after she’d hung up with Gerry and asked what was happening with the Durleys. She was shocked to find out they were appearing in court at ten that very morning. Why hadn’t her daughter-in-law called her to let her know? Maybe Sebrina didn’t know herself, or perhaps she had been doing what Rita had, enjoying a couple days off with another lover.

  Rita got back to Gerry and explained what was going on. She told him the telephonist didn’t know what the charge was, so if he didn’t mind, could he get to West London Magistrates’ Court and find out what it was all about for her? Gerry said he didn’t mind at all and he’d let her know as soon as he had any information. As Rita got off the phone, she paused for a moment before calling Sebrina. Sebrina’s phone rang for a while before the answering machine kicked in. Rita left a message and without too much worry carried on with her day. It was still early, so she didn’t think it was unusual that Sebrina hadn’t picked up. But Rita’s idea about her daughter-in-law living up to her name of Sexy Sebs was along the right lines.

  Gerry got himself over to the courthouse, only to be greeted on arrival by Mr. Drayton himself, who on seeing Gerry promptly walked up to him and, looking him up and down in a distasteful manner, came out with, “And what is a horrible little man like yourself doing here, Funnel? I haven’t noticed your name on the program of artists appearing at these premises today. So what are you doing here?”

  “Morning, Mr. Drayton, nice to see you too. No … no, you’re right. I’m not on stage today, just a social visit, I’m afraid.”

  “Ah, yeah. That’s what Hitler said when he invaded Poland.”

  “Well, I’ll try not to disappoint you, then.” Gerry looked around for a friendly, familiar face.

  “You’ve come to find your grubby little oppo, Durley, haven’t you?” said Drayton, raising a knowing eyebrow.

  “Well, as it happens, Mr. Drayton, Sir, yes I have, as it goes. Where is he then?” asked Gerry, still trying to find an excuse to get away from Drayton.

  “In the cells beneath here. Best place for scum like that. I knew you were low life, Funnel, but admitting to knowing filth like that takes you very low, even for a man like you,” said Drayton, still displaying that pained expression.

  “I was a kid when you nicked me, Mr. Drayton. I’ve changed since then.”

  “Really, Mr. Funnel? I very much doubt it. If you’re coming here looking for Bart Nicholas Durley, that says it all.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but what is the charge?” asked Gerry.

  “You’ll have to ask his equally horrible slimy brief that, won’t you, my son?”

  “Well, I would if I knew who’s representing him, wouldn’t I?”

  “Who else but the one and only Guttersnipe? Your old mate Cuthbert,” said Drayton.

  Now Gerry knew this was a case of a sexual nature. Knipe had represented him when he was caught in a position of indecency by Drayton himself. Knipe was renowned for that type of case, not being too straight himself, but Gerry didn’t know he was the Durley’s brief, period. This alone was very odd as your everyday man who leaned to the criminal side, no matter how slightly, would not use a solicitor with Knipe’s reputation. This got Gerry’s attention and he wanted to know more. But whatever they were charged with, Gerry felt vulnerable. Being seen talking with Knipe wasn’t going to do his street credibility any good, and what the hell would Bart possibly be prepared to say about him, or anyone else for that matter, that might help get him off?

  Gerry thought it best to ask the clerk of the court what number courtroom Bart was appearing in and go and find out the charges himself. But it was also important for Bart to see him there as Bart would more than likely think he’d come to offer moral support and hopefully keep his big mouth shut.

  The Durleys were bought up from the cells into Courtroom No. 2, handcuffed together and to security guards. As they looked around the room, hoping to see a familiar face, both spotted Gerry sitting in the front row of the gallery. Gerry nodded to each of them in such a way Bart wished he wasn’t there as he was about to hear the multiple charges against them. The ignominy of it all would be too much for the whole family to take. But at least he’d turned up. That was more than the Durley wives had done.

  Gerry at this point was still unaware of the charges the pair were about to face and as they were read out, Gerry sat there wide-eyed and open-mouthed and said to himself in a whispered tone, “Fuckin’ hell.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked over toward Drayton, who smiled a smug “told you so” back at Gerry. Gerry wanted to leave and he began to sweat a little. He knew his behaviour at times was unacceptable, but this was really something else.

  The Durleys only spoke to confirm their names and addresses and were remanded in custody for a week. After that they could apply for bail.

  Gerry got out of there as quickly as he could and got on the phone to inform Rita of what had happened. But he wasn’t prepared to tell her of the charges, in fact, he couldn’t remember all of them. She was going to have to call Knipe herself. Once the news of the pair’s crimes got out, the Durley family would be even more reviled than they already were and Gerry couldn’t wait to call his twin brother and tell him all about it.

  Chapter 22

  Dell, Richards, Terry, and Lightfoot were in a meeting at Dell’s place to go over the rearranged plan for their Swedish connection. Sven, the Swede, had requested that the cocaine he required now be dropped to him not in kilo lumps as before, but in street form—tiny one-gram plastic balls tied up in a bag and cut down to size so that the cocaine was ready for retail. This would mean more work for the couriers and more expense, but it also meant they could charge by the gram and therefore earn more profit. Dell had given this proposition a lot of thought and as he had been involved in similar situations abroad, he had plenty of ideas on how this should work. He looked at Lightfoot. “Remember a mate of ours, R
onnie Slaughter?”

  “Err, no not really,” was Lightfoot’s reply.

  “Well, you might know him as Viagra Ron.”

  “Ah yeah, I know him, a right villain,” smiled Lightfoot as he looked around at the others in the room who were nodding and smiling at his answer.

  “He couldn’t help being a villain with a name like that, could he? Anyway, me and him started out together years ago doing the same move, but in Spain, on a slightly smaller scale to start with. Well, we didn’t have that much money at the time. So what we did was, we’d buy a bar of change (nine ounces of cocaine) and smash it up into 0.8 of a gram with a bit of bosh in it, of course, and sell in the pubs and clubs of Marbella. But we made sure the apartments we’d used as factories were away from the area we would be selling it in. I’ve given it a lot of thought, David, and I’ve got a mate who lives in Holland—and it’s not Amsterdam—who you can meet, get the gear from him, conceal it in your motor and head up north toward Sweden, where we’ll have an apartment rented for you and a mate to do the business in. What you reckon?”

  “Yeah, sounds alright, as I won’t have to take anything out through customs here, but what about the money? It’s a lot of dough to have to take out of the country, innit?” said Lightfoot, looking a little concerned.

  “No, you won’t be carrying any dough out with you. I’ll sort that out the usual way as I do with Sven,” replied Dell.

  “Ah okay. Well, yeah, sounds alright, Joe. When do I go?”

  “Not just yet. Sven was just marking our card and finding out if we’d do it like that, which is why we’re all here. I just wanted to know if you were up for it.”

  “Yeah, and I reckon my brother’ll come with me too, but do you reckon we’ll look a bit dodgy? Two black men driving up through Europe with a load of gear on us.”

  “Nah, don’t be daft. One man in a motor is a bigger tug than two in this sort of work. Anyway, they’re too politically correct to go pulling you boys over there,” replied Dell.

  “Yeah, you’re not wrong there, Joe,” grinned Lightfoot.

  “Okay, well, we’ve got a good couple of weeks at least to have a think and find a suitable place for you to work. Oh yeah, and you’ll need one of them vac-pack machines to make your parcel smaller and easier to hide. Ah, and another thing, you’ll only be grabbing one kilo, but with a bit of bosh and doing up at 0.8s you’ll get best part of two out of it,” explained Dell.

  “How long do you think it’ll take us then, Joe?”

  “Well, if two of you work all day and into the evening with one measuring the gear out and the other one tying up the bags and cutting the long bit off, I reckon two days, but allow three to be on the safe side and we’ll hire the place for a week. So when you’re finished and cleaned up, you can leave when you want. How’s that sound?”

  “Yeah, sounds good to me. I’m up for it,” said Lightfoot, smiling once again.

  “Okay, good boy, and you’ll earn a bit more for your troubles.” Dell smiled back and put out his hand to shake Lightfoot’s. The pair shook on the deal and both men seemed happy with the arrangements.

  The timing couldn’t have been better, as just then Terry’s phone rang. It was his twin calling about the plight of the Durleys. His reaction to what he was hearing caused everyone in the room to hush up and stare at him as he laughed and said, “F-U-C-K-I-N ‘ELL, we all said they were wrong’uns.”

  “I take it it’s to do with them idiot Durleys?” asked Dell.

  “Yeeaahh,” laughed Terry. “That was my brother. He’s been to court and seen and heard it all.”

  “Well, I was warned about that pair of pricks on my release. Big Burt had them two sussed from the off. Just hope they don’t think they know about us, ‘cause I still have a few good pals in the shovel and if them batty boy wankers feel like talking, it’ll be their last chat, ever!”

  “Apparently noncin’ over a long period of time. Gerry said there were too many charges to remember,” was Terry’s reply.

  “Well, no surprise there. That means they’ll be on a special wing. I ain’t got no pals down there, obviously, but we can get to ‘em if we have to,” said Dell.

  As Dell paused for thought, he suddenly remembered what Burt had said about the Country and his gut instinct. Hmm, he thought to himself before turning to the others. “I don’t like it, boys. If they’ve been remanded for a week, that means they still have to try and make bail the following week. While they’re banged up, they are potentially more dangerous than when they’re on the outside. God knows what stories those two are concocting as we speak.”

  “Yeah, he’s right. They love a story,” said the ever-quiet Richards. Barry was forty-four with cropped hair and he looked like he had spent time in the army. He was over six feet tall, in good shape, and strong. He wore a permanent frown, liked a drink, and liked hurting people when the opportunity arose. Not that he went out of his way to find trouble, of course. So when he spoke the others listened and considered and realised this had the potential to be very dodgy indeed, but what none of them knew was that it was too late for them anyway. In the end it would have nothing to do with the Durleys—it would all come down to fate.

  * * *

  As the surveillance on the DSTC intensified, Gerry would become of greater interest, as unbeknownst to himself, he was their biggest source of income. But the local Drug Squad would lay the groundwork.

  Cairo was instructed to start frequenting the Royal British Legion (RBL) in nearby Greenford and to get feedback on how many people were expected to attend the one-hundred-year commemoration service on Remembrance Sunday. She was to do the reconnaissance work there because (a) it was her idea in the first place and (b) she wouldn’t stand out as on the surface she was one of them. She accepted this task with great pride. She would revert to plain Karen White and carry out her mission. When spoken to, the innocent-looking young woman would tell her sad story to whoever she conversed with. This would gain trust as well as sympathy from the unsuspecting members who attended the club, whose sole purpose was to support the military and who no doubt had similar stories of their own. She was the most perfect undercover sister of Islam imaginable. She believed in what she was planning. These people and everything they stood for owed her a living, she thought. They had taken her life away, but now she was reborn and she would take away theirs.

  Now the DSTC was infiltrating the enemy and the tracks were rolling nicely on their tank. For now the hate preaching would stop as they needed to keep a low profile. Only the money-making machine would continue. They needed more funds for weaponry and bomb-making equipment and as the cash machine was doing very nicely, thank you, everything was heading in the right direction. All was looking rosy in the garden of extremism.

  Chapter 23

  Tommy Butler was ordered to make his acquaintance with his team and as Dell and the boys were on his first team starting lineup, it wouldn’t be long before he paid them a social call once more. Big Burt’s gut feeling was quickly becoming reality.

  Gerry kept himself busy plying his trade in total ignorance of any potential problems, but it was only when he was fully loaded with narcotics that he would feel the full force of the law. The Durleys roasted in prison until Knipe could get them bail and Rita carried on her affair with Ifty. She really was enjoying the break; it was bliss for her.

  It was now time to choose sides. Cairo had made her choice and Butler knew what side his team would choose without even asking, but it was going to take a bit of cunning to get Dell’s boys on board. They wouldn’t be in any mood to cooperate with the authoritative enemy, but he was more than sure they would team up with him and the rest of their country to destroy the now common enemy who would do everything and anything they could to destroy traditional English freedoms and the lives of people close to their own hearts.

  Butler knew Dell’s former father-in-law was the president o
f the Greenford RBL and the Funnel boys’ father was a regular patron of the club. In his mind, it wouldn’t take too much to convince them to join his crusade. The deal certainly had to be right for Dell’s mob to get involved, but Butler was more than confident that his first elected four were more than capable of pulling off the job he intended for them. Or was this too good to be true? That he was going to have to find out for himself, but at whose cost? This was the imponderable.

  Butler knew a little more homework was necessary, but he thought he had one or two winning cards. Or at least on the surface he did, but who would have THE trump card, him or Dell? Previous experience told him this was going to be one hell of a hill to climb and Joey Dell was no mug by any means. If Butler could get Dell on his side, he knew he would be almost there.

  Dell was beginning to heed Big Burt’s feelings and was more cautious than ever, but he still needed to earn a living. Nothing on the doorstep was his opinion. The Sven connection would do for now and then he would wait and see what happened after the dust had settled. With prejudice polluting the land, no one was comfortable as the terror threat was more present than ever. It seemed the vast majority of the country was more determined than ever to come together to combat these people.

  Chapter 24

  Seeing as Dell had recently mentioned his old mate Ronny Slaughter, he thought maybe it was a good time to make contact again, knowing his ex-in-laws had a place on the Costa del Sol and that Ronnie had resided there for a few years. Maybe it was a good idea to take a long shot and ask if he might just possibly have seen Harry and his mother over there in Spain. No one had seen them locally for a good long time.

  Dell put a call into his old ally and good friend. They’d learned their trade together in the eighties in Spain, gaining a rapport with the South London bank robbers who ruled the roost at the time. Unfortunately, the robbers had faced extradition, but Dell knew full well Ron was still a face in those parts and if his boy was living there, he’d find out. Terry had also asked his dad to find out for him via Dell’s former father-in-law, but he hadn’t come back with anything as of yet.