Stone Rage

by J. D. Weston

  Her phone began to ring. It was Harvey. Melody hit the green answer button.

  "Thank god, we thought they were dumping your body."

  "Melody, it's Jackson. Nothing here but a pile of clothes and Harvey's belongings."

  16

  The Lion’s Den

  Bobby 'Bones' Carnell stood at the bar of the Pied Piper with Doug and Trev. He drank his scotch and soda down in one hit and put the glass on the bar.

  "Yes please, Lee, and a beer for the boys too."

  "Cheers, Bobby," said Doug. "So no news then?"

  "Yeah, loads of news, Doug," said Bobby. "It's a fast moving world out there. Gerry and the big fella have apparently annihilated the Albanians, and Dom has moved into their pubs. We've regained some lost ground. So the future's looking bright, mate."

  "And Gerry?" asked Doug.

  "What are you two an item or something, Doug?" replied Bobby. "That's the second time you asked about him."

  "I just thought he would be an asset to the firm, Bobby. He's pretty handy."

  "He's a fucking liability is what he is, Doug, my old son." Bobby took a large mouthful of his drink and put his glass back down neatly on the coaster. "Doesn't follow orders, he's a wildcard. Sure, he's handy to have in a row, but when the game is strategy, I need men who do then ask, not ask then do their own thing. He's too bloody unpredictable."

  "So are we going to just forget about him?"

  "Oh no, Dougy. I'm not that callous. He did, after all, get me the Albanian, which in turn gave us the name of the boss and their whereabouts."

  "So we're going to take care of him then? I know he's hard up at the minute, that's all."

  "I didn't realise you were so soft, Doug."

  "I'm not soft, Bobby. It's just that, well, he did us a turn. I thought the least we can do is slip him a few quid."

  "Tell me, Doug, how much do you know about this Gerry fellow?"

  "Not much. He was pretty quiet."

  "And how many times did he come in here?"

  "A few."

  "And he drank with you every time?"

  "Yeah, he was a decent bloke."

  "So, right now, some bloke we don't know is out there somewhere, and knows a lot more about us that we do about him?"

  "Well," said Doug, "if you put it like that."

  "I do put it like that, Doug. If the Albanians haven't chopped him up into little pieces and fed him to the fish, your first job is to find him and take care of it. Is that understood?"

  "Ah, that's a bit-"

  "Is that understood, Doug?"

  Doug paused. "Yeah, Bobby, I get it."

  "Good. The firm is expanding, Doug. Now's a good time for you to move up the ranks a bit. Dom has got his own firm in North London now. I need a good right-hand man down here. Stop being a pussy and show me what you're made of."

  The door to the pub opened and a familiar but unwelcome face walked in. The ambient noise fell quiet.

  "Bobby, you might want to see this," uttered Doug under his breath.

  "Carnell," said John Cartwright.

  "You're brave coming here alone, John," said Bobby, turning and leaning on the bar.

  "I hope that's not a threat, Bobby?" said John. "What’re you going to do, slot me in front of all these people?"

  "They're all friends, John. They won't see anything if I tell them to look away."

  "Besides," said John, ignoring the power play, "while all this is going on, I'd say having an open channel is pretty healthy. Your boy is out there with mine."

  "I hear they were welcomed with open arms."

  "They were welcomed, Bobby. I don't think open arms is an accurate evaluation."

  "As long as they get the job done, John. That's all that counts, isn't it?"

  "You heard from your guy? Gerry, wasn't it?"

  "Yeah it was Gerry, and no, we haven't heard from him. You heard from him, Doug?"

  "No, Bobby," replied Doug. "Not a little-"

  "You don't seem too bothered by it, Bobby," said John.

  "Well, he'll be well remembered, John. I was just telling Doug here that we should get a plaque engraved and put up behind the bar." He sipped at his scotch. "Drink, John?"

  "No, Bobby."

  "Lee, brandy, three ice cubes please," said Bobby, ignoring John's answer. "You heard from the big bloke then, John?"

  "No, but I will, I'm sure of it."

  "Is that right, John? And what if you don't? What if it's all gone a bit Pete Tong and they're both cut up into little pieces?"

  "Then, Bobby," spat John, "you and I will need another plan. That would give the Albanians all the confidence they need to start spreading their dirty little feet."

  "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, John."

  "And why's that?"

  "Well, right now, all the Albanians have is a few old junkyards and some pubs in North London that nobody else wants. Plus probably some protection and knowing them, they've also got their dirty little mitts in some dirty little brothels as well. But that's not my cup of tea, John."

  "You've moved in?"

  "Early bird and all that, John," said Bobby with a smug grin.

  "You want to make sure someone doesn't knock that grin off your mug, Bobby. It doesn't do to try and get one over on me."

  Doug put his beer down. "You need to watch your mouth, John."

  "Am I talking to you? No. You'll know when I'm talking to you because I'll look at you. I might even throw you a biscuit and pat you on the head too, so shut up and sit back down."

  Doug looked at Bobby, who shook his head. "Sit down, Doug. Listen, John. There's no need for all this. I was faster off the mark than you. Maybe it's time you got out of all this. You've done well, you're well known, respected even. Maybe you're a bit long in the tooth for it, mate. It's a young man's game."

  John downed his drink and put the glass back down on the polished wood. He moved closer to Bobby and spoke quietly.

  "We either do this together, Bobby, or not at all. I'm in your manor, I respect that. But do not overstep your mark."

  "Goodbye, John," said Bobby. "Shut the door on the way out, will you?"

  "Is that the way you want things to be?"

  Bobby didn't reply.

  John turned and walked out the pub. He left the doors open.

  "He's got to go, Doug," said Bobby.

  "You're going to off John Cartwright?"

  "No, Doug, my old son," replied Bobby, "you are going to off John Cartwright. Now close the door, will you? It's bloody freezing."

  Doug took in the statement and walked to the doors. Killing John Cartwright would go down in history within the confines of the criminal world in which they operated. The man had survived countless attacks and had run most of the East End for longer than many of Bobby's men had been alive.

  Doug pushed the door closed, but as he turned, the doors were kicked open again behind him. Two men stepped inside. The first shot Doug in the face; the second emptied his handgun into Bobby 'Bones' Carnell. They looked around the pub. The few drinkers sat in booths with their mouths hanging open. There was no other reaction. No more of Bobby's men.

  The two men stepped back outside and climbed into the waiting van. The first man dialled a number on his phone.

  "Jasper?"

  "Boss, it's done. He's down."

  "Good work. Get the boys and go seize his assets. It's time people started knowing that John Cartwright is still around. I've been laying low too long."

  "Nicely done," said Luan. "I didn't think it would be you still standing."

  Harvey didn't reply. Luan was talking through a little slot in the heavy steel door.

  "It's almost a shame to kill you. You fight well."

  Harvey leaned against the wall. He was ready. It had taken him more than twenty years to find every man on his list. But he'd done it, and now found himself with two more names to add.

  Someone had shot Julios two years ago during a gun deal with the Thomsons. Harvey had chased
them, but they got away. The man may take some finding. John Cartwright had also been placed on his list, a name Harvey never thought would be there. But he'd given the order; John was responsible for the death of Harvey's parents and knew he must pay the price.

  Harvey thought about the story John used to tell him about his parents, how he'd found Hannah and Harvey on a bench seat in his pub. Harvey had been in a hamper with a note. His sister had sat next to him. The note had said that his parents had killed themselves. John had told the story verbatim for years. But now Harvey had discovered the truth and he could see why John had lied. His father had been a dangerous man, and Harvey had inherited his keen sense of survival, his raw power and ferocity. John had known all along that he had been breeding a killer.

  And now that killer was about to turn on him.

  The unmistakable thumping of a helicopter beat the air above the bunker and Harvey tore himself away from his thoughts of how to kill John.

  "Who is this?" asked Luan.

  "Are you expecting company?" asked Harvey.

  The door opened, and Luan stood with his handgun pointing at Harvey.

  "Do not try to make any moves. I will cut you down. I see I have toyed for too long with you."

  "If you're going to point that at me, you better know how to use it, Luan."

  "I was firing guns before your daddy's vermin seed found its spawn," spat Luan. "Out, and keep your hands where I can see them."

  Harvey stepped out of the dark room and into the night. The cold bit into his skin and his bare feet sank in the thick brown mud.

  Harvey felt Luan's fillet knife against his throat and the gun in the small of his back. He was pro; nobody could fend off both attacks. If Harvey reached for the knife, Luan would fire the gun. If he reached for the gun, Luan would slash his throat.

  The chopper hung in the air fifty metres away. Harvey heard Jackson's voice loud and tinny over the tannoy fixed to the underside of the helicopter's fuselage.

  "Let him go, Duri. We'll take it easy on you."

  The bright spotlights fixed on either side of the chopper's windshield shone directly on Harvey and Luan, blinding them both. Only the faint outline of the rear rotor could be seen on the edge of the silhouette. Jackson fought the controls against the strong wind and descended some more. The slight variation in the helicopter's stability gave Harvey a brief glimpse of Melody. She was in the back with the door open and one foot on the skid. Presumably, her Diemaco was aimed at Luan.

  Harvey battled in his head. Knife or gun?

  The knife would surely kill him; the gun needed reaction time.

  "It's not so easy, I'm afraid," shouted Luan.

  "Don't make me do this," Melody shouted back.

  "I won't make you do anything."

  Harvey felt the blade cut skin.

  "Make your move," Luan cried at the chopper.

  Harvey reached up and wrenched Luan's hand from his throat, twisting it away then bending over in one smooth motion, pulling Luan over his back. The handgun flailed in the air as Luan fought to stay upright and tumbled over Harvey's shoulder in a slick judo throw.

  Luan landed, rolled and stood in one smooth motion. He lifted the gun to point it at Harvey. He opened his mouth to say something, and the front of his head exploded.

  Melody stepped down to the ground. She aimed her weapon around and cleared the area before stepping up to Harvey.

  "Cold?" she asked.

  Harvey didn't reply.

  "Who's this?" asked Melody.

  "Luan Duri," said Harvey. "The main man."

  "And Adeo?"

  "Inside."

  "Alive?"

  Harvey didn't reply.

  "So no survivors?"

  "None worth mentioning," replied Harvey. "Mind if I get some clothes before we carry on this chat, Melody?"

  "I didn't think of you as the shy type, Harvey."

  "Let's go. Whose chopper?"

  "Jackson called in a favour."

  "Don't suppose it has a spare change of clothes inside?"

  "Want my jacket?" Melody said with a smirk.

  "No. Luan won't be needing this anymore." Harvey began to remove the long coat from Luan Duri's dead body.

  "You're going to take a dead man's coat?"

  "Melody, I'm naked and it's November."

  A few minutes later, Harvey joined Melody and Jackson in the chopper.

  "Right, let's get this bird back to Hackney," said Jackson. "I think we just about pushed our luck here."

  "Headquarters, Jackson."

  "No time, Harvey," said Melody.

  "Headquarters, Jackson," said Harvey. "You can land on the roof."

  "Harvey, Frank wants to talk to us before we do anything else," said Melody. "Let's get this back to Hackney first, eh?"

  "Do I have to flag a cab?"

  "What's the rush?" asked Melody. "We got Duri."

  "We got Duri, but..." Harvey couldn't talk. If he mentioned John Cartwright, Melody would know instantly that he'd go on a rampage. "They're still out there. The firm will wonder where I am."

  "Bobby Bones?"

  "Yeah, he's a bit of loose cannon that one."

  "So not John Cartwright then."

  Harvey didn't reply.

  "Harvey, something has happened. What is it?"

  "Jackson, can you get me back to base, mate?" said Harvey, ignoring Melody's question.

  "Not leaving me much choice in the matter, are you?"

  Harvey stared out the window.

  "What happened in there, Harvey?" asked Melody.

  Harvey didn't reply.

  "Okay, save it. But we'll talk back at HQ." Melody was turned in her seat. She put her hand on his leg. "I'm your friend, remember?" She remembered that he was naked under the long coat and took her hand away. "Just don't bottle it up. Let me help you, Harvey."

  "You wouldn't get it, Melody."

  "Maybe, but try me. See if I do get it, and I if I do, I'll help you, whatever it is. Alright?"

  Harvey turned and stared at her. "Do we still have those two muppets at HQ?"

  "Ginger?"

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah, they're still there," said Melody. "Frank has been on at them. They won't talk."

  "Yes they will," said Harvey. "We just need to ask the right questions."

  17

  The Beast Awakens

  Harvey and Melody stepped out of the helicopter onto the roof of the team headquarters. The wind tore off the river, whipping at Harvey's coat and biting into his skin. A small door led them to the washrooms, and another took them to the main area beside Reg's workstation.

  Harvey walked straight to his desk where he kept a sports holdall with a change of clothes.

  "Good evening," said Reg. "You're home early."

  "Hey, Reg," said Melody, eying Harvey. "What's the news?"

  "Oh you know, this and that. Nothing as exciting as what your news will be. Do tell." Reg sat back in his reclining leather office chair waiting for Melody to fill him in on all the details.

  Melody took a glance across at the two men handcuffed to the pillar. "Let's talk in a bit, Reg. Where's Frank?"

  "I'm here," said Frank. He was stood on the mezzanine floor looking down at Melody. He had a serious look on his face and spoke quietly. "Debrief in ten minutes. Get a coffee, do what you need to do, and get yourself into the mess." He disappeared into his office.

  Harvey finished dressing. He tossed the long coat onto the back of his desk chair, walked over to Melody's desk and pulled a thirty-metre length of climbing rope from where it hung on the wall then stopped at Reg's desk.

  "Keys."

  "What keys?"

  Harvey didn't reply.

  "Oh, you mean the keys to the handcuffs? Sure here they are." Reg pulled open his desk drawer, but before he could lift the keys out, Harvey's hand was inside the drawer. Harvey strode over to the two men. He formed a loop in the end of the rope and put it around Ginger's neck before unlocking the handcuffs.
The driver sat looking up at Harvey looming over them with a scared look on his face. Then he watched as Harvey dragged Ginger away.

  "Reg, doors please."

  Reg looked at Melody, silently asking if he should open them. Melody nodded reluctantly and watched the top floor to make sure Frank wasn't watching.

  Harvey continued to drag Ginger across the smooth screed floor and out into the night. The man struggled to his feet and was led along the walkway to the riverside. His damaged foot from where Harvey had shot him earlier had been cleaned and dressed in a bandage. Without stopping, Harvey hoisted Ginger over the railings and held him above the raging river below. Iron rungs were fixed into the side of the river wall for the men who serviced the Thames Barrier so they could get in and out of boats. Ginger's undamaged foot stood precariously on the edge of one of the slippery rungs.

  "Where's John?"

  "John?"

  "John Cartwright."

  "I don't know. Don't let me fall, please. It's just a job. I didn't-"

  "I need an address."

  "I don't have an-"

  Harvey let go but allowed the rope to play through his hands. Ginger splashed down into the river, and the immense current immediately dragged him downstream. The rope pulled taught, and Ginger fought hard to keep from going under. Harvey dragged him back to the side, where Ginger's frozen hands clung to the rungs.

  Harvey pulled up on the rope, forcing Ginger to climb unsteadily up the slippery, iron ladder.

  "Where?" said Harvey when Ginger had reached the top. Harvey held the rope tight with one hand and held Ginger by the scruff of his neck with the other. Ginger coughed up some river water, and let it run down his face.

  "He'll kill me. You don't know him like I do."

  Without warning, Harvey landed his forehead on Ginger's nose.

  "I know him better than anyone. You've got three seconds. Three."

  "No, please."

  "Two."

  "I can't."