by Paul Kirby
As Ron’s phone rang, Dell felt excitement and also a little nervousness about what he might hear.
“Hello,” said Ron cautiously. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Al Pacino,” Dell chuckled.
“Bloody hell—it’s Flowery Dell. You out of the shovel, son?” bellowed Ron, very happy to hear from his old mate.
“Yeah, ‘course I am. How are ya, Ron?”
“All the better for hearing from you, mate. What’s happening, my old mate?”
“Well, this and that, Ron. You know me, not one to let the world pass me by when I have the chance.”
“Ah, so good to hear your voice. When you coming to see me then, Joe boy? You’ll love it over here, mate.”
“Well, Ronnie boy, I’ve not been out too long and I was wondering, seeing as our missuses were great friends back in the day … has she heard from her or seen her and my Harry by any chance? I’m really concerned as to their whereabouts and no one around here has seen hide nor hair of either of ‘em.”
“Well, as it happens, my son, the old woman bumped into them a few weeks ago down the harbour in Puerto Banus, and the saucy little fucker was wearing a Chelsea shirt!” joked Ron.
“Good boy. Still got a bit of taste then. I was a bit worried he might have turned Manc or something in my absence. Anyway, Ron, was there another fella about, do you know?”
“No, not that I’m aware of, mate. Anyway, don’t worry about that. Where’s the boy’s Millwall shirt is what I wanna know.”
“I’d rather that than some northern shit on his back. Do you know if they’re living there, Ron? All I thought about in the shovel was him. She never brought him to see me once and I … well, you know, I miss him,” said Dell, turning the conversation serious.
“Hang on a minute. I’ll ask the old woman.” Ron shouted for his wife, Lizzie.
“No, Ron! Don’t let her know you’ve spoken to me. I don’t want Chrissie knowing I’m trying to find his whereabouts,” pleaded Dell.
“Ah right, okay then. Tell ya what. Leave it with me. I’ll ask Liz on the snide and I won’t let on that I’ve spoken to ya. When I find out a bit more, I’ll get hold of ya. Is this your number and is it alright to save it?”
“‘Course it is, yeah, cheers Ron. Just keep it between me and you for now. Anyway, how’s things over there, mate?”
“Yeah, alright, Joe, thanks. We would never go back to London. We love it here. You should come over, or are you too busy running Murder Incorporated’s London branch?”
“Nah, mate, not up to much at the moment. There’s a strange smell in the air, so we’re keeping it a bit quiet. Anyway, I ain’t going back to the shovel again. I’m too old for that now and I wanna see my little Harry again.”
“Good boy! You must be the sharpest dresser in West London, though, Joe, surely to God?”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am. You know me, son. You still living up to your name, Ron?”
“Nah, I don’t need to do that anymore. Just enjoying it over here and I would like to see you again soon, mate,” said Ron, back to a serious tone.
“Well, Ron, I’ll get over as soon as I can, mate, but in the meantime, could you do a bit of research on the boy for me, please, mate?” asked Dell.
“Yeah, ‘course I will, anything for my old mate Flowery Dell,” Ron said smiling.
“Cheers, Viagra. Been nice talking to you and I’ll get over there as soon as I can, mate. Speak to you soon,” said Dell as he bid farewell.
“And you, Joe, bye, mate.”
Dell sat down feeling a lot happier and relieved now that Harry and his mum had been spotted and were safe. Maybe he’d be able to settle down to the quiet life after all, as long as she wasn’t attached. But even if she was, at least he could reunite with his son, hopefully. Dell wasn’t about to get his hopes up, but he was pleased he’d made contact with his old mate Ron. He thought back and chuckled at how he got the nickname Viagra Ron.
Ron had gotten himself a pharmaceutical license years ago, with the intention of entering the drugs game legally, but Ron, being Ron, couldn’t help himself. When the chance presented itself, it was at the time Viagra first appeared on the market. It became popular with recreational drug users after a night on cocaine and other substances, so Ron ordered a very large shipment of both Viagra and Valium to help the users not only with the obvious, but also to help them sleep. Ron sold the lot in bulk to another villain he knew on the side. He shut the company down, didn’t pay for any of the order, sold up, and went to live in Spain. “Valium” Ron didn’t have the same ring to it, so “Viagra” Ron stuck after that venture!
Ronnie was a boy without any doubt, but he was concerned about his old mate. He remembered the days of the paramilitaries and how once upon a time they’d been approached by persons unknown to help with the Northern Ireland conflict. He now thought about his mate and wondered if perhaps the same old tactics were being considered, but it was only a thought. He knew full well what Dell was capable of and how he worked.
Ron decided he should call Dell back.
“Alright, Joe?” asked Ron. “Do you remember when we were in Gibraltar?”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course I do. Why? What’s up, mate?”
“You remember the men in suits? Same war, but different mob. Well, you just be careful because I’ve got a notion they’re gonna come back at ya!” was Ron’s reply.
“Really? Not you as well. Big Burt has a strange feeling too.”
“Yeah, but you know how you work and so do I. Please, Joe, keep your wits about you. You know the tea caddies ain’t the problem no more, but that ISIS mob are,” said Ron sincerely.
“Hell, Ron, I thought you had news about my boy. What the fuck have that lot got to do with me?” asked Dell.
“Don’t matter, mate. Obviously you’re still the boy over there. They will come at ya, mate. They did it when we were wrapped up with the paddies,” replied Ron.
“Yeah, but we were grafting with the paddies. I ain’t grafting with that mob, mate.”
“Well, just be careful, mate, ‘cause you will still be on the radar,” said Ron.
Ron couldn’t get out of his mind the time they were approached by persons unknown while in Gibraltar back in the day. It kept playing on his mind and he felt the need to remind his friend of past events, whether or not it turned out to be relevant.
Dell started to wonder about the people around him. Who out of his mob was working with a terror firm? No one he could think of. Well, there was Gerry, but he didn’t have much to do with Gerry anymore, in fact, nothing at all, and those two who came in to see Gerry in the pub hardly looked like ISIS terrorists, but then again, how would one look anyway? They wouldn’t have a T-shirt advertising the fact now, would they? Dell put it out of his mind and decided to go over to Big Burt’s and have a look at the racing in order to take his mind off things.
Don’t be bitten twice, Dell suddenly thought to himself. But why was he thinking this? No, this wasn’t happening, was it? Just other people’s thoughts. Speak to Big Burt and go and have a drink, then everything will be alright.
Dell strolled into Burt’s shop. It was about pub time, he thought as he walked up to the counter and spoke to Sharon. “Alright, Sharon. Is he about?” Dell asked.
“Upstairs,” said Sharon.
“Alright to go up?” he asked. Forget the racing. I need a drink.
“Yeah, I would think so,” she said.
Up he went and tapped on the office door. “Albert, you there?”
“Yeah, come in Joe. What’s up, mate?” Burt knew when Dell referred to him as Albert he was in a serious mood.
“Fancy a beer, mate?”
Burt looked at his watch. It was four thirty. “Yeah, why not? I’m done here for today.” He got up and moved toward the door. Dell was out in the hallway anyway and let Burt o
ut as he locked up. The pair headed for the Country. They sat at the bar and both Burt and Mickey could see Dell had something on his mind. “What’s up, Joe?” asked Mickey.
“Eh? Oh nothing, just thinking about something. ‘ere, Mick, you remember Ronnie Slaughter, don’t ya?”
“Yeah, ‘course I do. You couldn’t forget a bloke like him in a hurry. You and him were good pals back in the day.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Well, I’ve been speaking to him today.”
“Oh yeah? Everything alright?” asked Mickey, now also wearing a concerned look.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just that he rang me back after I had spoken to him an hour or so ago and he reminded me about something that happened years ago when we were up to no good in Spain. I’d completely forgotten all about it. So I’m just trying to put it all back together in my mind, that’s all,” said Dell with a real distant look about himself.
As the three men continued chatting at the bar, Lightfoot walked in and was quickly spotted by Gerry, who was also having a quiet drink.
“Alright, Joe? Can we have a quick chat? asked Lightfoot, looking around at the other two in Dell’s company.
“Yeah, ‘course, don’t worry about these two. What’s up, mate?” asked Dell, having seemingly snapped out of his daze.
“Nah, nothing. Just, I spoke with my bro and told him the job and he’s in. If that’s alright with you?” said Lightfoot.
“Nah, that’s alright, mate. Thanks for letting me know so quick. Oh, and it might be sooner than we thought,” said Dell in a hushed voice.
“Yeah, no worries. That’s alright with us, mate. Get Tel to bell me and we’ll meet up,” said Lightfoot with a wink.
Gerry watched Lightfoot as he walked back out of the pub and he instantly knew a Swedish move was imminent.
Lightfoot’s visit on the other hand seemed to snap Dell out of his trance as after their brief chat he got involved with a couple of pints of bitter and had a laugh and joke with the other two. People always thought it uncharacteristic that Dell drank bitter as most of his associates were lager men, which is what you might expect. But Dell was always a little bit different.
Just as the three were relaxing, who should walk in but the dreaded Tommy Butler and his sidekick, Frank Wilson, heading straight for them.
“Jesus Christ!” said Dell, putting his head down as he turned away from the unwanted visitors.
“Afternoon, gents. It’s alright, don’t get up on my account,” said Butler, trying to make a joke.
“Don’t worry, we weren’t going to,” replied Dell.
Now everyone felt uneasy and it also affected Gerry over at the other end of the bar. He drank up pretty quickly and left immediately.
“No need to look so worried, boys, this is a social call,” said Butler snidely.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, the last time you said something like that to me, I didn’t come home for about three years,” said Dell.
“Well, Joey, my son, it was you I’ve come to see, actually,” replied Butler.
“Yeah, I thought it might be, strangely enough. What can I do for you, Mr. Butler?”
“I have a very tempting proposition for you, but we have to discuss it elsewhere, alone.”
Dell’s face dropped as Ronnie’s words went through his head once more.
“Not interested,” Dell replied quickly.
“Well, you don’t know what I’m proposing yet, do you?” said Butler, as he turned and looked at Wilson, who had a puzzled look on his face as he often did.
“I didn’t mean the proposition. I meant coming to meet you in the first place, Mr. Butler.”
“Well, let me put this another way. Either we arrange a meeting now or you won’t have a choice. We’ll come and get you anyway and then it’ll be on our terms, if you get my drift!”
Dell gritted his teeth and cursed Butler under his breath.
Ron’s warning and Burt’s gut feelings were becoming reality. Dell didn’t like this one little bit. Butler leaned over and whispered in Dell’s ear. “It’ll be well worth your while.” He then stood back and said, “Well, as it’s a social call, who’d like a drink? On the Old Bill of course.”
Dell and Burt looked at each other. Dell said, “Well, what do you think?”
Butler continued, “I think it would be rude not to, don’t you, Mr. Wilson?” Wilson nodded his approval.
“Yeah, go on then. I’ll have a pint, please Mr. Butler,” conceded Dell. Burt followed suit. Dell looked over and noticed Gerry had made a quick exit. He knew Gerry would alert his brother who, in turn, would tell Richards and hopefully neither of them would turn up in the pub that afternoon. All hoped Butler wouldn’t hang about, but unfortunately he fancied doing a bit of male bonding, much to Dell and Burt’s displeasure, and Mickey’s for that matter. Butler wasn’t good for business.
After a begrudging hour or more of Butler’s company, Dell looked at his watch and then called out to Mickey to get him a cab. “Don’t worry, Joey me ol’ son, we’re about to go anyway,” said Butler before Mickey had a chance to answer.
“Well, to be honest, I thought it was later than that, Mr. Butler,” said Dell, doing a quick shake of his head to Mickey to stop Mickey ordering the cab.
As Butler and Wilson turned to leave, Butler said to Dell, “I’ll be in touch again very soon, Joe. Seriously I’ve got some business to put your way.”
“Ah, that’s nice of you, Mr. Butler,” said Dell with a quiet aside of “Can’t fuckin’ wait,” glancing secretly at the other two as he said it.
They all shook hands like old mates and after Butler and Wilson had gone, Dell looked at Burt. “Thank God he’s gone. What’s he want with me anyway?”
“Fucked if I know, but I told you I’ve been getting bad feelings, didn’t I?” replied Burt.
“Ron could be right. Perhaps I am still on their radar after all,” said Dell, thinking out loud.
“You’ll never be off it, Joe, I’m afraid,” said Burt.
“Nah, Ron, meant a different radar.” Dell went on to explain how years ago two men claiming to represent the British government had tried to get them to wipe out some IRA men planning something or other, and how they gotten out of Gibraltar a bit lively. In fact, out of Spain altogether. Was history about to repeat itself? Is that what Butler wanted to talk about? Was Ron’s hunch right? Dell’s head was spinning once again. All sorts of things were going through it as he, Burt, and Mickey dissected Butler’s unwanted appearance. After a lot of deliberating they were none the wiser, but they all knew it wasn’t going to end with good news for poor old Dell. That the Durleys had just been remanded in custody added to their worry.
Chapter 25
Rita had entered the Country while Dell and Burt were chatting to Butler. She was all tarted up, waiting for Ifty’s arrival, seemingly unfazed by her husband and son’s unforeseen incarceration. She had found out what they were being charged with. There was no way Gerry was telling her. He pretended he’d gotten there too late to hear the charges and suggested she call the solicitor. Rita was not only unsympathetic but also appalled and disgusted by what Knipe had told her. She was even more determined to build upon her relationship with Ifty. She wasn’t even that surprised. She knew what her husband and son were like. Anyway, her idea to leave Dick was a more concrete plan than ever now. If he was to make bail before the case was heard, he’d have to cope by himself as she would no longer be there for him. This was the final nail in his coffin.
As for Bart’s missus, that was up to her. She took him for better or worse and it couldn’t get much worse. But the pair hadn’t spoken about it yet, so for now Rita was going to carry on with her taxi ride and hope Seb would be doing something similar.
After much discussion amongst the trio, Dell decided he wasn’t going to let things bother him too much. In fact, the idea of a new challenge an
d maybe a new adventure quite excited him and he was beginning to feel a bit more relaxed about the whole thing. If Ron’s thoughts were anything to go by, he’d welcome the idea, but he really didn’t know why Butler would want to do business with him. Butler’s “It’ll be well worth your while” kept resonating and the more he played it back, the louder and more meaningful those words became. “This might not turn out as bad as we first thought,” he told himself and he began to tell the other two of his thoughts.
“No, true, it might not. But then again, it could be worse,” said Burt.
“Yeah, true, but why come and see me in the pub? Why not wait ‘til I’m indoors?”
“Because you weren’t at home. You were here,” said Mickey, half serious and half joking.
“No, think about it. He’s not gonna come in here talking about me and him as if we’ve been lifelong partners in front of people, is he? Don’t get me wrong—he’s definitely up to something, but I’ve got a trick or two of my own,” said Dell, winking at his two pals.
Gerry had snaked back in now that the coast was clear, having rescheduled his meeting with Badini and Dasti. He spoke to them away from the bar at a table not too far away from the prying eyes and ears of the now almost residential undercover lover cops. After ear-wigging on Gerry’s conversation, the pair were now fully aware Gerry was about to receive his biggest parcel yet of cocaine, ready to be transformed into crack. This was the moment they’d been waiting for. The night departments were informed and all eyes were now on Gerry, who was expecting his special deliver. His soon-to-be arrest would throw further confusion into the mix.
* * *
The following morning Dell received another call from Ron, who had a bit of news about his boy and his ex.
