‘I didn’t intentionally shoot the bastard. I didn’t realise he was behind the door. My eyes don’t penetrate solid spaces,’ Alfie said in a sarcastic tone.
‘I thought I told you to keep your nose clean.’
Jethro might not be visibly in charge of the firm any more, but he was definitely still the head honcho behind the scenes. It was eye-opening to see the dynamic between father and son. Alfie wasn’t the one who called the shots after all.
‘I dealt with the situation the way I saw fit. It isn’t up for discussion.’ Alfie knocked back the drink in his glass and turned to look out of the window.
You could feel the friction between the two men. Alfie looked like he was going to explode any minute. Even though he had his back to me, I could tell by the way he was standing. He was holding himself in a rigid stance, and his shoulders were tense. I wondered if he was going to have a full-blown outburst. I’d seen a few adult temper tantrums in my life, but I never expected to witness Alfie throwing one.
Jethro didn’t attempt to pacify him or engage him in conversation. Instead, he ignored his son and continued sipping away on his gin. I knew Alfie was a mummy’s boy. He hadn’t approved of the way Jethro had treated his wife, and they had a difficult relationship because of that. The strain was plain to see. They weren’t trying to hide it from anyone. They were behaving like two alpha males battling against each other for the top spot. Any minute now I was expecting them to start beating their chests like two rival silverback gorillas.
‘I don’t know what gets into you sometimes. I told you to keep a low profile, not put yourself in the spotlight,’ Jethro continued after a long pause. He opened the button of his blue suit jacket and took a seat on one of the bar stools. ‘You can’t start shooting people through their letterboxes without bringing attention to yourself. We’re not living in the Wild West, Alf.’ Jethro shook his head.
Alfie turned around and locked eyes with his father, but he didn’t reply. His silence sent a very clear message to me. I’d never seen him behave like this. It wasn’t in his character to back down, yet he was accepting his dressing-down. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. It was obvious he respected Jethro because he hadn’t attempted to interrupt him once in the time he’d been speaking. If I hadn’t been so scared, the exchange between the two men would have been fascinating to watch. It surprised me because although Alfie portrayed himself as head of the family, he was still very much under Jethro’s control. Alfie wasn’t the organ grinder, he was the monkey. Watching their exchange reminded me that no matter how old we are, we will always be children to our parents.
I tried to evaluate what was going on. Had Jethro come out of retirement since Alfie’s arrest? Or had he always been there in the background, giving out the orders, while keeping himself a safe distance away from the action? It would be the sensible thing to do and would explain why it was so difficult for the police to put the kingpins behind bars. They never got their hands dirty. That was something I’d accused Alfie of before. While he was more than happy to keep away from some areas of the business, he couldn’t resist getting involved in the violent beatings the firm dished out. At the back of my mind, I wondered if that might become his downfall. Well, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?
Jethro got up from the bar and walked over to where Alfie was standing. ‘You’ve got to rein it in, son. You’re becoming a liability. Do you want to end up behind bars?’
‘That’s not going to happen.’ Alfie turned to face his father then he laughed, not because he was amused by Jethro’s comments – it was an act of defiance.
Jethro’s blue eyes bored into his son’s as he drove the message home. ‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re above the law.’
A huge smile spread across Alfie’s face as he listened to his dad’s ear-bashing, but Jethro wasn’t put off by Alfie’s cockiness and carried on regardless.
‘How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t be the one to dish out the punishment. We employ people to do that. Keep your hands clean, Alf, otherwise the cops will be sniffing around you like flies on shit.’
As Jethro continued to nag, Alfie’s attitude worsened. He took a packet of cigarettes out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and placed one in his mouth.
‘If you want to smoke that go outside,’ Jethro said. ‘I thought you’d given up that disgusting habit.’
‘I have.’
Alfie rolled his eyes and took the cigarette out of his mouth. Then he walked over to the bar and put his empty glass down on the counter, tossing the cigarette next to it. Jethro followed him, and the two men stood side by side, inches apart, staring at each other.
‘You don’t need to resort to violence, Alf. Your reputation on the street is fearsome. People are terrified of you.’ The tone of Jethro’s voice softened momentarily.
‘They’ve got good reason to be.’ A slow smile spread across Alfie’s face, and his arrogance returned.
‘You’ll be destroyed by your own ego if you’re not careful.’
Alfie let out an audible breath. ‘You can stop the lecture now, Dad. I’ve got the message.’ He walked behind the bar and refilled his glass, then swallowed the amber liquid in two gulps. His expression changed as it passed down his throat and into his stomach. No doubt the Jack Daniel’s left a burning sensation behind.
I listened to the conversation with interest as I perched on the edge of the seat with Luca in my arms. He hadn’t stirred since we got here, but I wasn’t going to put him down. I wanted to hold him close for comfort and to make sure he didn’t come to any harm. I had to protect my son at all costs. I had a gut feeling that if I could get Jethro onside, maybe this business with Alfie could be resolved peacefully. My instinct was telling me to trust it. Jethro seemed like a reasonable person. He was nothing like I had expected him to be. Either the stories I’d heard about this softly spoken man had been greatly exaggerated, or he’d mellowed considerably over the years.
‘Knuckles, can you arrange for the doctor to go to Crofts Way and clean up Alfie’s mess? The last thing we need is for Nathan and Gareth to turn up at A&E, one of them with an unexplained gunshot wound and the other a severe concussion.’
‘What’s with the sudden concern over Gareth Stone anyway? I thought you hated the man?’ Alfie asked.
‘I do. You know there’s no love lost between us. The man’s a bastard. Always was, always will be.’
‘So why are you sending the doctor to see him? He might have bled out by now.’ Alfie clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying any more.
I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes as Alfie’s words slowly registered in my brain. There was nothing I could have done to help Gareth or Nathan, but that was hard to accept.
‘You’re missing the point. I don’t give a shit about what happens to Gareth, but we can’t just leave two bodies in the hallway and hope nobody notices.’
Jethro’s words shocked me. I’d thought he had more compassion than Alfie. Being difficult to read was a trait that both the Watson men possessed.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Knuckles could go back to Gareth’s place and find out what’s going on.’
Alfie’s right-hand man was filling the doorway with his eyes fixed on me.
Jethro lifted his hand to silence his son. ‘We won’t call the doctor for the minute. Let’s wait and see what happens first. If Gareth and Nathan are OK, it won’t be long until they’re knocking on my front door. But next time I send you to do a job, make sure you follow my instructions. I managed to get Gemma to escort me to Darkwood Manor without having to resort to violence, didn’t I?’ Jethro paused and glared at Alfie. ‘I expected you to do the same.’
‘If she’d come out of the house when I asked her to, none of this would have happened.’ Alfie fixed me with a death stare, and I felt myself burrow deeper into the plush chair. I suddenly had a horrible feeling my name could end up on the missing list.
24
‘What the hell happened?’ I asked when I started to come round.
‘Knuckles knocked you out with the back of his gun,’ Dad replied, hobbling over to me.
I had no memory of being hit. Lifting one hand to the back of my head, I examined the sizeable lump that was forming with my fingertips. Only a few minutes had passed since Alfie left, but it felt like he’d been gone for hours. I couldn’t think straight as I attempted to retrace the event in my mind. One moment I was trying to stop the gangster from taking my wife and child, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up face down on the floor. I was still groggy and slightly disoriented, and it took me a moment to get my limbs to move before I managed to stand up.
Although Dad was up on his feet, he couldn’t disguise the pain he was in. It was written all over his face. When Alfie had fired the gun through the letterbox, the bullet zipped through the air, and the piece of hot metal sliced past Dad’s leg, grazing the side of his thigh. It had pulled chunks of skin and flesh off his leg before embedding itself in the wall. Fortunately, his injury was relatively superficial. It looked a mess, but in the grand scheme of things, he was lucky to be alive. The wound had bled profusely, but if the bullet had penetrated his thigh bone, he could have bled to death. Alfie’s reckless behaviour could have had serious consequences.
‘We need to get you to the hospital – you’ve lost a lot of blood.’
Dad looked down at his blood-soaked jeans. ‘No way, they’ll ask too many questions. The sooner we go after Alfie, the better.’
For selfish reasons, I was glad my dad had suggested that. There was no telling how much danger Gemma and Luca were in and if we’d had to go to the hospital first, it could have delayed us for hours. There was a good chance they would have admitted Dad, and I didn’t think I’d be able to find my way back to Darkwood Manor without him.
‘Are you sure?’
Dad nodded. ‘It hurts like hell, but I’ll be OK.’
I paced down the hallway to the kitchen and opened up the drawer next to the sink. Taking out a clean cotton tea towel, I went back to my father. ‘We can’t go anywhere until I’ve done some basic first aid on you.’ Even though I was keen to get to my wife and son as soon as possible, I wasn’t prepared to risk Dad getting an infection from the dirty wound. It needed urgent medical attention.
I tied a tea towel tourniquet around my father’s thigh. Taking hold of Dad’s arm to support him, I led him into the sitting room. His mobility had been affected, and he was hopping along like a three-legged dog. ‘Do you think you can sit down?’
Dad winced and scrunched his eyes closed as he lowered himself onto the sofa.
‘You’d better take those off,’ I said, pointing towards Dad’s jeans. ‘I’ll get you something to change into.’
I ran up the stairs two at a time and reappeared moments later with a clean pair of jeans and a first aid kit that I’d grabbed from the bathroom cupboard.
Applying direct pressure with a piece of gauze to the wound, I lifted Dad’s leg up onto the armrest of the sofa to elevate it and help stop the bleeding. Dad gritted his teeth and drew a sharp intake of breath. He was barely able to tolerate the pain.
‘I’m sorry. I know it hurts.’
‘Just do what you have to do.’ Dad forced out the words; he was writhing in agony.
After a couple of moments, I was able to take the gauze off and clean up the wound. Using the largest dressing in the first aid kit, I placed it over the open flesh. It wasn’t a scene for the squeamish, and I had to stop myself from freaking out while I treated him. Just when I thought I’d won the battle, blood began to show through the self-adhesive fabric dressing, so I placed several more on top. That seemed to do the trick.
*
I grabbed my keys and helped my dad get into the Jeep. Jumping into the driver’s seat, I sped off in the direction of Darkwood Manor. There wasn’t much on the road at this time in the morning, and we soon arrived outside the wrought-iron gates of Jethro’s mansion. Before I even got out of the car, the gates started to open. The Watsons had been expecting us. Gravel sprayed from the tyres as I drove towards the house. Jethro was standing on the steps, with his hands in the pockets of his bespoke suit, waiting for us.
‘That’s a relief,’ Jethro said as I got out the car and went around to the passenger’s door to help my dad. ‘I’m glad to see you’re both in one piece after your run-in with Alfie and Knuckles.’
‘Your concern is touching,’ Dad replied as he inched his way out of the passenger seat.
A smile lit up Jethro’s face. ‘I think you’ve misunderstood what I meant. I’m not concerned that you’re injured. I’m glad you survived the bullet because I haven’t finished making you suffer yet.’ Jethro looked down his nose as he spoke.
25
Gemma
‘It’s time we had a little chat, Gemma,’ Alfie said as he strode around the huge conservatory that spanned the width of the house.
Alfie gestured over to where Knuckles stood filling the doorway, so the huge man stepped outside and closed the glass door behind him.
‘What do you want to talk about?’
I looked over Alfie’s shoulder and took in the view of the floodlit landscaped grounds. Darkwood Manor was the kind of house people dreamed about visiting. But every time I came to the remote location, with its impenetrable security system, it scared me to death. I didn’t feel like a guest, I felt like I was a prisoner, being held against my will. I was sure Alfie would be delighted if he knew how unsettled the surroundings made me.
Instilling fear in others was Alfie’s favourite pastime. He’d earned his position as an underworld boss using a combination of violence, intimidation and control, and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. I’d read about the brutality used by the men in these organisations. It was incomprehensible. Torturing people was a regular occurrence. They thought nothing of threatening to pull out a person’s fingernails as a way of extracting information from them, and if they weren’t satisfied with the answers to their questions, they’d get one of their heavies to carry out the threat. I looked down at my hands as they lay in my lap, wondering if I was going to suffer the same fate.
‘Are you surprised the police let me go?’ Alfie smiled, but the usual twinkle in his blue eyes was missing.
Surprised didn’t begin to explain how I’d felt. I wasn’t going to tell Alfie I couldn’t believe my eyes when I’d seen him in the bar, sipping on a Jack Daniel’s. It was fair to say I was gobsmacked, and my world had come crashing down around me. I locked eyes with Alfie. I was more than curious to know why he was free, but I was never going to ask him what happened. I knew him better than that. If he realised I was interested, he’d never tell me about the circumstances that saw him walk away from the charges against him. Although the police had arrested Alfie and his team, for some reason, they mustn’t have been able to make the convictions stick. In the blink of an eye, I’d lost faith in the law and the justice system.
The Watsons must have more than just corrupt detectives on the payroll if Alfie had evaded prison. How anyone could walk away after masterminding the heist at the Antwerp Diamond Centre, where one hundred million dollars was taken from safety deposit boxes, was beyond me. Let alone everything else the police had on him. They had discovered thirty fake passports belonging to Alfie and his men hidden inside the safe when they searched the burning wreckage of the Lady Nora. Then further inspection of the craft revealed hundreds of packages of cocaine stashed inside two holding tanks. The drugs had an estimated street value of fifty thousand pounds a kilo. Interpol had been trying to infiltrate the international drug-smuggling ring he was involved in for years. He was also wanted in connection with money laundering, arms sales and the trafficking of stolen vehicles amongst other criminal activities.
The charges went on and on. Alfie should have been locked up for life, and yet here he was, larger than life, standing in the room opposite me. I knew full well
if Nathan and I had been arrested, we wouldn’t have been released without charge. Alfie would have sacrificed us to save his own skin.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to know how I got away with it?’
My curiosity finally got the better of me. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine how you didn’t get sent down. You must have had some legal team!’
Alfie smirked. ‘It wasn’t as easy as you’d think. The French police were refusing to extradite us to Britain, so it was touch and go for a while. They took some convincing, but once we got them onside, everything started to fall into place.’
Having a reputation like The Godfather clearly carried a lot of weight. As I tried to get my head around the injustice of it all, I felt my lips break into an involuntary smile. Anytime I was uncomfortable, I suffered from the ever-present threat of inappropriate laughter, but now definitely wasn’t the right time to lose control. Thankfully, Alfie was too wrapped up in his story to notice.
‘I didn’t get off that lightly. The case against us should have collapsed before it made it to court, but the bastards made me stand trial.’
Alfie seemed outraged by that. Anyone would think he was an innocent man.
‘Knuckles and myself were acquitted, but the rest of the team are doing time until we win their appeal.’
Alfie rarely ventured out without his entourage of henchmen. Even though the sheer size of Knuckles was intimidating, he wouldn’t normally work alone. I’d been wondering what had become of Frankie, Tommy, and Johno – the other members of Alfie’s team – now I understood.
I raised an eyebrow. Alfie was so sure of himself. ‘How do you know you’ll win the appeal?’ I couldn’t hide the sarcastic tone in my voice.
‘Our legal team will see to it. Besides that, we’ve got the judge onside this time.’
Tangled Lives Page 8