Den of Snakes

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Den of Snakes Page 11

by Damian Vargas


  Eddie thought of his daughter back in England. Kenny had a point. After all, Eddie’s plan to join the mercenary unit in Angola was all about making some money - money he could send to his ex-wife. Or so he told himself. And mercenary operations were not legal either. Even so, he thought, ‘there’s a big difference between that and what Charlie’s crew did’.

  ‘I ain’t no gangster, Ken’.

  ‘Nobody’s suggesting that. Time’s are changing. Just like your brother said. We need to adapt. Go legal. Be cleverer than we have been. Charlie’s property project, bars, restaurants. Nightclubs. That sort of thing. There’s money to be made here. Honest money. You’ve got an opportunity here, Ed. I think you should take it’.

  ‘Thing is,’ said Eddie. ‘Me and Charlie, we’ve got…baggage’.

  ‘Course you do. You’re brothers,’ said Kenny, laughing. ‘I’ve got an older brother. He’s a fuckin moron. Does me tits in, but I still love him coz he’s my brother. He’s family. Right?’ Eddie smirked.

  ‘I’m pretty sure if I stayed around here, we’d be at each other’s throats. Charlie is the main man. You all look up to him, I see that. It wouldn’t be like that, him and me’.

  ‘I’ll level with you, Ed. Charlie ain’t what he used to be. He’s got less energy. He’s not as healthy as he used to be’.

  ‘He’s got fuckin’ fat, you mean?’ said Eddie.

  They both laughed.

  ‘Charlie’s enjoyed himself, yeah. And I want him to keep doin’ that. That’s why we need you. Why he needs you. I think you have what it takes to be the powering force to help us make the changes we need to. We’ve got cash and connections. We know how this place works. But we’re all old-school, gangsters. You’re not tarnished, like us. You could help us go legit. You could help your brother’.

  A memory flashed back from one of the last conversations Eddie had had with his mother, a few weeks before the cancer had taken her. ‘Promise me you will always look after your brother,’ she had begged him.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ said Eddie.

  ‘That’s all I’m saying,’ said Kenny.

  They were approaching the beach club. Kenny leaned forward. ‘Just here’s fine, Mustapha. He placed several banknotes in the driver’s hands then winked at Eddie. ‘Right, let’s do this’.

  Chapter Ten

  It's Party Time

  They arrived at the Marbella Beach Club at eight-thirty. A lengthy queue of expensively clad adolescent men and women blocked their passage. They were clothed, predominantly, in white.

  Eddie examined his grey jacket and black shirt. ‘I guess I didn’t get the memo,’ he thought while walking towards the back of the queue.

  ‘Where are you going?’ said Kenny. ‘We don’t queue’. He pointed to the entrance where a tanned man stood next to two well-proportioned security staff, waving at them to approach. Eddie followed Kenny, bypassing the waiting guests, and approached the man.

  ‘This way, gentleman,’ while lifting a red rope for them to enter. Jealous eyes drilled into the back of his head.

  ‘How come they don’t have to wait?’ grumbled one of the queuing partygoers. Eddie eyed the man up. He was wearing a ruffled white blouse and tight black trousers. He wore black eyeliner, and his face was powdered white. His blonde hair would have graced George Michael.

  ‘Coz we spend a fuck load of money here,’ said Kenny to the startled man without stopping. He frowned at Eddie. ‘Jesus, did you see that poof? Looks like a bleedin’ bird’.

  ‘Mr Lawson’s group are in the far corner, on the other side of the pool,’ said the doorman, a well-tanned man with spiky black hair and dark brown eyes.

  ‘Is there some kind of dress code?’ asked Eddie, nodding towards the column of white-clad guests standing behind him.

  ‘Oh, it’s the Fiesta de la Luna Llena...the new moon party. It’s traditional to wear white’.

  ‘Great,’ muttered Eddie to Kenny, and pointing at his black shirt. ‘I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb’. He nodded at the two doormen, and they made their way into the venue which was rammed with, Eddie guessed, over a thousand guests. An array of bright lights illuminated the artificial smoke that rose up into the warm evening sky, and the air throbbed to the sound of “When Doves Cry”, by Prince.

  ‘I need to take a leak,’ said Kenny. ‘Old man’s bladder. The lads are over there’.

  Eddie twisted his head to where Kenny was pointing and gave him a thumb’s up sign. He negotiated his way between the swaying club-goers on the dance floor and the swimming pool. Cocktails were flowing. The pool was full of excited twenty-somethings in a variety of lurid-coloured swimwear. There were fine-looking men and beautiful women everywhere. He saw cocaine being openly consumed on several tables.

  ‘Hey, Eddie’. He recognised the voice straight away, Mike’s girlfriend Veronica. ‘I hoped I’d see you here tonight’. She was wearing a figure-hugging, short white dress, a small black leather jacket and black fishnet tights.

  Or stockings?

  She was wearing hardly any makeup, but she didn’t need to; she was amazing.

  She is Mike’s missus. Play it cool, he told himself. ‘Hey. I’m looking for Charlie. Is he here already?’ he said, trying to feign disinterest.

  Veronica smiled and licked the inside of her top lip. ‘Your big brother’s over there with the rest of his boring friends’. She nodded towards the back of the venue. ‘But you ain’t boring, are you Eddie? I don’t think so. I think you’re very different’. She stepped to block his path and slid her body close to his, moving her hips in perfect rhythm to the music. ‘Dance with me. Have some fun’.

  He grabbed her by the waist and manoeuvred her to one side while looking over towards his brother’s table. He could see Mike, but luckily the big man’s back was facing away from the dance floor. ‘Leave it out, Veronica. You’ll get me in trouble’.

  ‘Oh, don’t be scared of Mikey. He’s a big softy, really’.

  ‘I doubt that, please. Get off. I ain’t interested,’ said Eddie with as much conviction as he could summon.

  ‘That’s not what little Eddie’s telling me’. She grabbed hold of his crotch and giggled.

  ‘Jesus…get off me. Seriously, this ain’t funny,’ he shouted. ‘If you want to fuck around, knock yourself out. But leave me out of it’. He lifted her up and deposited her to one side, before he pushed a path through the crowd, striding away as fast as he could.

  As Eddie approached the table, Mike swivelled around. ‘Hey, Ed. Did you see my Veronica out there? She left to get a drink over forty minutes ago’.

  ‘Yeah, she’s just over there dancing’. Eddie pointed to where he had just been, but Veronica was nowhere to be seen. ‘I guess she headed back to the bar’.

  ‘No worries,’ said Mike. ‘I’ll go take a look for her in a bit. She’s like a flippin’ whippet, that one’.

  A wolf, more like.

  ‘Eddie,’ shouted Charlie. He was walking towards the table, a young blonde woman in his arms. ‘Sleep alright, bruv?’ His brother gave him a protracted bear hug. He wreaked of whiskey. ‘This is Debbie. She works at the bar, but she’s gonna be a singer’. Charlie pulled his brother towards the youthful woman.

  ‘Hi,’ said the woman and thrust out a hand.

  ‘This is my younger brother, Eddie,’ said Charlie. ‘He’s visiting for a few days. Say hello, bruv’.

  Eddie shook the woman’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Sorry, I need to steal my brother away for a moment’. Eddie put his arm around his brother’s shoulder and steered him away from the rest of the group. “The Cutter”, by Echo and the Bunnymen, was playing on the sound system. ‘Bit young for you, isn’t she?’ he said, glancing back at Debbie.

  ‘Young is fun, bruv. Hey, this is that bunny man geezer, isn’t it?’ said Charlie.

  ‘Listen, Charlie. I know you wanted one last night before I make off but -’.

  ‘Woah, you’re not going home already, are you, Ed? You just got here
’.

  Eddie paused. His brother seemed disappointed. ‘It’s just…look, I don’t like crowds like this. Not since the war. The smoke and all the noise…it plays havoc with my head’.

  ‘Stay for a couple, Ed. Please, I might not see you…for a while. If you go off to bleedin’ Africa, I mean’. Charlie put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. His forehead rested on the bridge of Eddie’s nose. ‘C’mon bruv, have a drink with me. For old times sake. Please?’

  Eddie took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Of course’.

  ‘Thanks, bruv’ said Charlie.

  A boyish man in a white vest top was lifting the chair that Charlie had been sitting on. He had blonde hair with a long floppy fringe and an undercut. ‘Oh no you don’t, you little tosser. That’s my seat’.

  The young man glanced at the swaying, overweight Englishman, paying him little attention. ‘Naff off grandad,’ he said and continued to move the chair.

  In an instant, Mike leaped up, wrapped his right arm around the young man’s neck, and forced him to the ground. ‘You’ve got two seconds to start grovelling you little tosser,’ he screamed in the man’s ear.

  Two of the man’s friends appeared, both with well-groomed wedge haircuts. The first was wearing tight burgundy chinos and a white shirt, the second a white suit and a silvery-grey shirt. He was holding a beer bottle by the neck.

  ‘Let go of him, you old bastard,’ said the second man.

  Mike glared up at the man who had spoken while squeezing his captive’s neck a little harder. ‘Or what? You gonna come at me with a hairdryer?’

  Bill and Roger stood up and started walking towards the young man, both with fists clenched. Kenny approached from the other side, a knuckle duster in his right hand.

  The man, realising he was surrounded, slammed the bottle against a metal column that supported the large sunshade above them. The bottle failed to break. Mike laughed, but the man tried again, this time successfully. The sound of breaking glass caught the attention of the surrounding people who had been unaware of the violence threatening to break out in their midst.

  Charlie stepped into the middle of the group, in front of the man with the broken bottle. He had a silver pistol in his hand.

  ‘What d’ya call me you little shit?’ The man swallowed but kept waving the broken glass around him. Charlie lifted the gun. ‘I’m gonna count to three. If you don’t put that fuckin bottle down, I’m going to ruin the pretty white suit of yours forever’. The man kept waving the glass.

  ‘One,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Put the flipping bottle down, Trev,’ shouted a voice from behind.

  ‘Two,’ said Charlie. He sounded utterly calm.

  ‘You won’t shoot me here. Not in front of all these people,’ said the man with the bottle.

  ‘You’re about to find out,’ said Roger.

  Eddie saw Charlie’s finger curled around the trigger, ready to squeeze. He leapt in between the man and his brother. ‘Stop!’ he shouted.

  ‘Fuck!’ shouted Charlie. ‘Get out the way’.

  ‘I won’t. Put the friggin’ gun down, Charlie. This little twat ain’t worth it’. Eddie turned to face the man with the bottle. ‘Give me that, get your friends and piss off. Or, if he doesn’t shoot you, I fuckin’ will’. Eddie held out his hand and snarled at the man who handed over the bottle.

  ‘Steve. C’mon, we’ve got to get out of here,’ the young man shouted at his friend, who was still being held on the floor.

  Eddie nodded at Mike, who let go of the petrified man who quickly got to his feet. All three backed away and hurried off towards the exit. Eddie turned to his brother. ‘Fucking hell, Charlie. What are you playing at?’

  Charlie collapsed down into the vacant seat. ‘I just wanted my chair, didn’t I?’ Eddie stared at his brother who, oblivious to the still assembled spectators, reached forward for his glass and started sipping the golden liquid inside it as if nothing had happened.

  Mike starting cursing. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. The little bastard pissed himself. It’s all over me shirt’. Bill burst out laughing. ‘What are you laughing at, you sod? It ain’t funny’.

  Kenny and Roger started laughing, followed by Charlie. Eddie thought Mike was about to explode with rage, but his face broke into a grin and he too started to chuckle.

  ‘Good job you weren’t scarier, Mike. You might have actually scared the shit out of him,’ said Roger before bursting into laughter.

  ‘You boys are fuckin’ mental,’ said Eddie. Charlie stopped smiling. He lifted the silver pistol and cocked it. Eddie could see that it was an old second world war-era German Luger.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Charlie. Stop waving that thing around’. Charlie, still unsmiling, pointed the gun at the back of a nearby dancer who was wearing a white and golden leather jacket, and oblivious to the apparent danger.

  Charlie winked at his brother and took aim, his finger wrapping around the trigger.

  Eddie’s mouth dropped wide open. Time seemed to freeze. The music in the club muted in an instant. The smoke hung unmoving in the air. Everyone else in the club disappeared from his consciousness as he coiled to stop his brother. He made it only two feet before Charlie pulled the trigger.

  And nothing happened.

  Eddie fell at his brother’s feet, panting. ‘What the fuck?’ he shouted.

  ‘It’s bleedin’ deactivated innit?’ said Charlie. ‘I ain’t gonna shoot nobody’. He roared with laughter, as did the rest of the crew.

  Bill could well of been having an aneurysm, he was laughing so much. Kenny had tears rolling down his cheeks.

  ‘Christ-a-fucking-live,’ said Eddie. ‘You idiot. You’re fucking mad’.

  ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist it,’ said Charlie. Here, sit down and have a drink,’ he gestured towards the empty seat Debbie had been occupying. She now sat perched on Charlie’s lap.

  Eddie sat down, still shaking his head, and Roger handed him a glass of whiskey. ‘Here, get that down yer’.

  Bill leaned towards Eddie from the seat next to him. ‘Let me tell you our little secret,’ he said. ‘We ain’t been no angels at times, but here’s the thing. You don’t normally have to hurt nobody to get your way, you just need the other guy to believe that you will. Nine out of ten times that works’.

  ‘Not sure I believe that anymore,’ said Mike. ‘The world’s changing. You’ve seen what the Irish have been like down here in the last year. And the eastern Europeans are making moves too. They can be right evil bastards. I’m telling you, we need to be ready to get our hands dirty if we want to keep what we have, let alone make more money’.

  ‘And have the entire world focus on us?’ said Charlie. ‘How many times do I need to tell you? It’s time to get smart. Anyone can use a sawn-off, but them people always end up locked up. Or dead. If we want to keep all this, we need to play the long game. We need to make our money legally’. He nodded over toward another group of men nearby who, from their appearance, Eddie guessed were also British. ‘Them wankers, and everyone like ‘em, will fuck up. They’ll all end up back in Blighty behind bars. I ain’t gonna let that happen to me,’ said Charlie, before adding, ‘Or to you lot’.

  Kenny was standing behind Eddie. He leaned down and whispered in Eddie’s ear. ‘See? Charlie needs you here to help pull things together’.

  Eddie peered at his brother, who appeared confident and determined, but Eddie could tell that Charlie was frustrated. Eddie had seen it a thousand times in their childhood; if he didn’t get his way, he would snap. He always did.

  Maybe I could help him?’ he thought. Maybe I should?

  The rest of the crew pulled their seats nearer, drinks continued to flow, and soon Charlie’s associates were regaling Eddie with stories about the ‘old times’.

  ‘There was this one time back in...when was it? Seventy-three?’ said Mike.

  ‘Nah, seventy-two,’ said Charlie. ‘I remember coz Chelsea had just lost in the League Cup final against friggin’ Stoke. Reme
mber? Ian-fucking-Porterfield scored. I still can’t believe it’

  ‘Seventy-two, yeah,’ said Mike. ‘Anyway, your brother and me had set out to steal a truck over near Slough. The coal came down on a train from up north and they filled these big lorries up at the rail yard. They had about two hundred quid’s worth of coal in each truck. That was a couple of month’s wages in them days. For plebs like us, at least’. He stopped to light a cigarette. ‘Anyway, we climbed over the fence to get into the yard. No patrol guards or dogs, nothing. Except for this one geezer at the entrance. He opened the gate when they empty trucks arrived and again when they left, fully laden. That’s it. Sounds piss easy, right?’

  ‘I guess’ said Eddie. He would not have admitted it, but he was intrigued about where this story was going.

  ‘So, we’d been watching these trucks come and go for a few days. They would pull up next to the train. The drivers would nip out and go get themselves a cuppa from the cafe. When the trucks were full up with coal, they’d come back. The drivers never rushed, coz they were paid by the hour. They didn’t give a shit about how long it took. They’d have their cuppa and read the paper. When they were good and ready, they’d get back in their trucks, drive up to the barrier and just wave at the guy at the gate. It couldn’t be more simple. We could be in and out in less than five minutes’.

  ‘So, how did you two fuck it up?’ said Eddie. ‘I mean, that’s where this story has to be going, right?’

  ‘All will become apparent, you impatient bastard. Anyway, so there we were, hiding behind the shed. The drivers climb out of the truck, but that was when we realised the flaw in our plan’.

  ‘Which was?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘They were only both bleedin’ Caribbean geezers, weren’t they,’ said Mike. ‘And there was me and Charlie, as pale as ghosts. There was no way that the bloke on the gate wouldn’t notice’.

 

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