Family

by Owen Mullen

  ‘Round where?’

  ‘The King Pot, where else?’

  ‘Thought the pub would be closed.’

  ‘Nobody shuts us down.’

  He hung up.

  I ran the shower and tried to ignore the empty champagne bottle in the bath and the black panties hanging from the tap. Must have been a great night. Shame I didn’t remember it. Mandy had written her mobile number on the mirror in red lipstick; she deserved a call and she’d be getting one. The hot water helped bring me into the day, that and the realisation I wasn’t in prison gave me the strength to face an unwelcome fact: Danny was winning.

  The keys were where I couldn’t miss them, by the bed, with a note written in his familiar scrawl.

  Welcome back little brother.

  A better man would’ve left them there. This morning, I wasn’t that man.

  On the bottom he’d scratched the registration so I’d know what to look for. The car was parked in the next street: a top-of-the-range A6, Mauritius Blue, bright and shiny with just two hundred miles on the clock. I pressed the start button, slid the clutch into gear and pulled away from the kerb with the smell of new leather around me.

  My brother knew how the game was played. He’d even slipped ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ in the CD player. Well remembered, bro. Oasis was my favourite group.

  The Audi drove itself, all I had to do was steer. For a couple of miles, I was able to convince myself it was going to be okay. Then reality kicked in along with that feeling again, of unseen eyes on me. I checked the mirrors – nothing obvious. But that didn’t mean nothing. Anderson had waited seven years and wasn’t likely to let one bungled attempt stop him.

  Outside the pub, a dark mark on the pavement and an already fading chalk outline were stark reminders of the day before. With our history, standing up to my brother didn’t come easily to me, but I’d do it. And if Anderson was determined to fight until only one of us was left, I could do that, too. Taking on both of them at the same time was a different story.

  The day was warm. Suddenly I felt cold and caught myself anxiously looking up and down the street. What was I expecting to see? Danny wagging a finger at me, putting me in my place, like he’d done ever since I was a kid? A couple of Anderson’s men walking towards me blasting away?

  Christ Almighty! Get a grip!

  I knocked on the door. Keys rattled in the lock, before it edged open and a face peered at me: she was about forty, ash blonde with hazel eyes, still attractive in spite of the quirk of fate that had rocked her world. Her husband had been behind the wheel the morning of the explosion. Marcus should have been driving and would have been if Cheryl hadn’t lost her temper with him. The stand-in driver had only worked a couple of months for the firm. That made no difference to Danny. Always big on loyalty, he’d given the driver’s widow a lump sum and a job as cleaner at the King of Mesopotamia. Seven years on, she was still here.

  She wiped her hands on her overall and stood aside to let me through. I introduced myself.

  ‘Hi, I’m Luke Glass.’

  Of course, she already knew. ‘He’s waiting for you.’

  In the room upstairs, order had been restored: no sign of the damage done by Rollie Anderson’s hired assassins. The jukebox was playing the Small Faces ‘Tin Soldier’ and a different photograph of the monarch was on the wall in a new frame. Danny sat like the chairman of the board, his fingers drumming impatiently inches from an open laptop. My brother was the biggest Luddite I’d ever come across. This would be one of the ‘moves’ he’d mentioned.

  Nina was in a chair against the wall, shoulders back, unsmiling, her dark hair scraped back – a far cry from the weeping woman I’d held in my arms.

  Without lifting his eyes from the desk, Danny said, ‘You’re late.’

  I didn’t answer. He should consider himself fortunate I’d bothered to turn up at all. He spoke again, more mellow this time, maybe realising I wasn’t in the mood.

  ‘Found the car, then?’

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’

  ‘Nice colour. Ladies will love it. Not that I’m suggesting you’ll need any help. Got you off to a flying start, though, didn’t I? From now on, get your own women, little brother.’ He flicked a speck of dust off the desk. ‘Knew Mandy would be your type, red-haired and slutty.’ Danny laughed. ‘Or is that my type I’m thinking of?’ He laughed again.

  ‘I liked her.’

  ‘’Course you did. She’s in the business of getting men to like her. Mandy’s a pro.’

  He was having a dig at me, trying to get under my skin and succeeding. ‘Good news is: the Mandys of this world are ten a penny. Thank Christ.’

  It was forced and fake and made me uncomfortable. A lot of people had reason to fear my brother. I hadn’t ever been one of them. Until now. It was as if he’d suddenly become a different person, scoring points. His face was flushed and fleshy like Albert Anderson just before he fell, something sly and knowing watching from behind his eyes.

  He laughed hard at a joke I didn’t understand. ‘You tell me, little brother, does it get any better?’

  Then the mood passed as quickly as it had arrived and he was Danny again, brusque and direct like he always was, barking out orders and expecting them to be obeyed.

  ‘Nina, come over here. Sit down, both of you, we need to talk.’

  In that moment, I was back in the grubby council flat with our father passed out in the room next door, at one of the many family meetings Danny had called to reassure two scared kids that everything was going to be all right.

  Nina didn’t argue and drew her chair closer. Danny leaned forward, grinning like a gargoyle. ‘Rollie certainly knows how to spoil a party, doesn’t he?’

  I said, ‘We’re here, that’s what counts.’

  ‘Yeah, but he almost killed you, I’m not having that. Told you, yesterday wasn’t the beginning. It isn’t just about you. He’s been biding his time.’

  ‘And my first day out was it?’

  ‘Yeah. Finish it early. Minimum casualties maximum result.’

  ‘Cheeky.’

  ‘Got to give him that. Smart too. With us out of the picture he’d be top dog south of the river.’

  ‘Fait accompli.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Fait accompli. French for done deal.’

  The edge of Danny’s mouth twisted. He brushed something that wasn’t there off his jacket with a flick of his finger.

  ‘Is it really? So, what’s the French for jumped-up poncey fucker? Talk English, will you?’

  Where Danny’s patriotism came from, I’d no idea. God knows England hadn’t given him much. As kids we’d learned to look after ourselves. I was young, maybe eight or nine, the first time my brother used me to distract the Indian guy in the corner shop while he reached behind the counter and stole fags. On the dodge, he’d called it – Nina’s introduction came later. And Team Glass was born.

  ‘You said there was somebody you wanted me to meet.’

  ‘There is.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Hold on, you’ll see.’

  He closed down the PC and took a stroll through the past.

  ‘Those two geezers who bullied you at school, yeah? Every other day you’d come home crying because they’d stolen your dinner money or put your head down the toilet and pulled the plug?’

  The memory made him laugh.

  ‘You were just a kid, Nina, but your brother remembers, don’t you?’

  ‘How could I forget?

  ‘I caught them in the playground and warned them to leave you alone. Banged their stupid heads together to make the point.’ He laughed. ‘Then the older ones got involved. Seventeen or eighteen, I was. They’d be twenty-five or more. Thought that gave them an advantage.’

  His eyes locked on mine. ‘Straightened them out, didn’t I? Sorted it. And I’m going to sort this. Rollie needs a good slap for what he did, and he’s going to get one.’

  It was a nice story the way
he told it, but not exactly the truth. He had banged heads together, that much was true, and the kids did bring in the heavy squad, who turned out not to be very heavy; got the shit kicked out of them. End of, as far as Danny was concerned, though not for me. On the last day before the summer holidays they caught me on my way home and paid me back. The bullying went on for the best part of a year after that and only stopped when I cracked one of their skulls with a milk bottle. As they stretchered the unconscious boy into an ambulance, I was in the crowd, wondering if I’d killed him, knowing that, either way, my ordeal was over.

  Danny hadn’t sorted anything, he just thought he had. I’d let him go on believing; it was easier.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs told me whoever I was there to meet had arrived.

  He was tall – six three, maybe more – and even with the suntan I knew he was police. He moved like a copper, deliberate and unhurried, while his eyes darted from Danny to me and back again. There was no fear in those eyes, only a detached superiority. Something about the scene amused him; his thin lips paused on the edge of a smile. I’d met him for less than thirty seconds and already would’ve liked to put his face up against a brick and throw a wall at it.

  Danny walked round the desk and they shook hands in the middle of the room. His behaviour today was hard to understand: ratty over nothing, then wistfully recalling a fairy tale with him as the hero. Now, all smiles giving this visitor from the other side of the tracks a big hello. I didn’t get it. He placed a hand on my shoulder and introduced me.

  ‘Luke, this is Detective Chief Inspector, Oliver Stanford.’

  The smooth skin round the detective’s eyes creased as he studied me.

  ‘The famous brother. Heard you were out.’

  It wasn’t a question so I didn’t reply.

  He saw Nina and grinned. ‘And the sister, too. Well, well, the gang’s all here, I’m honoured.’

  Danny steered him to a chair next to mine and sat back down behind the desk.

  ‘So, Ollie, how’s your luck?’

  7

  Stanford shifted in his seat – this wasn’t the reception he’d expected. Danny said, ‘How’s the house working out? Wife enjoying it, is she?’

  ‘Elise loves it.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah.’ Danny lifted a ballpoint and played with it. ‘Good location that, Hendon. No riff-raff. Nobody like me living next door, eh? Handy for your cop school, too.’

  He meant Hendon Police College.

  ‘And the kids, settling into their new class?’

  The DCI’s features might have been dipped in concrete.

  My brother had missed his vocation – he should’ve been an actor. I almost believed him. Stanford didn’t. His reply was cautious.

  ‘They’re doing very well, Danny.’

  ‘Good. Glad to hear it.’

  He rubbed his palms together, got to his feet and leaned across until his face was close to the policeman’s. Then, he roared. ‘Because I’m fucking paying for it!’

  Flecks of spittle showered the detective. Some of it landed on me. Stanford closed his eyes against the assault and turned his suntanned face away. Danny patted him gently on the cheek. ‘Your nice life comes out of my pocket. Maybe you’ve forgotten.’

  Stanford defended himself.

  ‘Yesterday took everybody by surprise.’

  Danny agreed. ‘You’re not wrong there, Oliver, not wrong there. Problem is, I hate surprises, even good surprises. Always have. You’re supposed to make sure I don’t get any. And you bloody didn’t. I’d like you to explain that to me.’

  ‘We’re still waiting for confirmation on the identity of the dead guy. At this stage our best guess is he was part of an out-of-town crew.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

  The door opened. Marcus and a man I hadn’t seen before came in. Stanford sensed them behind him and some of his poise ebbed. He loosened his tie and worked it free of his throat. Sweat beaded his forehead. But fair play to him, he didn’t buckle.

  ‘The attack was the best-kept secret in London. Nobody knew it was a goer. There was nothing I could do.’

  Danny yawned and stretched, pretending he was bored. ‘When you and I had our very first powwow, I told you what I needed. You told me what it was going to cost and it wasn’t pennies, d’you remember?’

  The policeman hesitated. His hand drifted to his brow.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your career was going okay. You weren’t short of a few bob. Two bright kids and the lovely Elise spreading her legs for you a couple of times a week. But it wasn’t enough. There was more and you wanted more. I showed you how you could get it.’

  He interrupted himself.

  ‘Feel free to correct me if I’m not telling this right. I got you in. The house, the holidays, are just window dressing.’ He paused to allow the bounty in Stanford’s life to sink in. ‘Nice tan, by the way. St Lucia, wasn’t it? That one of ours or have we given it away like everything else in this fucking country nowadays? Doesn’t matter. More important, you’ve made a couple of big scores, thanks to me. People in high places will have noticed. Keep on going and you’ll be Ollie the Giant Killer, the man of the hour, drinking Earl Grey with the commissioner and Elise pally with his wife.’

  The prospect amused him.

  ‘Love that, won’t she? Her husband on the road to being a fully paid-up member of the Lucky Bastards Club. Who knows how high a bent bastard like you can climb? Right to the top, why not? Wouldn’t be the first.’ He pointed at the detective. ‘Am I right, Ollie, or am I right? But there are…’ Danny paused ‘… other options.’

  On cue, Marcus and the heavy came forward and stood on either side of the detective. Underneath the suntan he had to have been wondering if he was about to get a bullet in the head and decided it wasn’t going to happen. At least not today. He brassed it out.

  ‘If you’d intended to cripple me you would’ve done it already, so what do you want, Danny?’

  The question seemed to surprise my brother.

  ‘You’re the professional, Oliver. The Man with the Plan. Thought you’d have some ideas.’

  ‘I can take Anderson off the street for a while. Arrest him on suspicion.’

  ‘Oh, better than that, surely, Detective Chief Inspector? That’s what the taxpayer’s paying for. What about me, what do I get?’

  Stanford made a stab at asserting himself.

  ‘I can only stick my head up so far before people start asking questions.’

  It didn’t go down well. Danny reacted.

  ‘Don’t get arsey with me, copper.’

  The policeman’s expression was stone; he wasn’t used to taking shit, especially from somebody like my brother, and clearly hated it.

  Too fucking bad. When you sell your soul, you belong to the devil.

  Danny said, ‘Rollie’s interest in Luke is understandable, given old Albert’s nosedive.’ He jabbed the ballpoint at the detective. ‘I’m holding you responsible for the safety of these two. Anything happens to either of them, we have a big problem. I’ll sort Anderson myself, don’t worry about it.’

  Stanford had plenty of balls.

  ‘What you’re asking is impossible.’

  ‘Make it possible.’

  Stanford laughed a brittle laugh. ‘How? Fucking tell me how. I haven’t the resources to protect one of you round the clock, let alone two. Kill me and be done with it if that’s where this is going.’

  Danny smiled. ‘Oh, I will, I will, Ollie. I’m saving you ’til last.’

  The DCI’s confidence returned with the confirmation he wasn’t going to die today.

  ‘I’d advise against a war. Wars attract attention. Who benefits from that?’

  ‘You’re starting to sound like a consultant, Oliver. That how you see yourself? Want to borrow my watch to tell me the time and charge an arm and a leg for the privilege?’ Danny laid his palms face down on the desk and sat back. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, we�
�ve been at it with these fuckers, one way or another, for the last ten years.’

  ‘I’m advising caution. For both our sakes. If it goes above me, I’m no use to you. All I’m saying is: think before you act. Anderson will be expecting a response. Don’t give him one. Not yet. Let things settle down.’

  So far, I’d been a spectator. Danny turned in his chair and faced me. ‘What’s your opinion, Luke? How should we handle this?’

  Apart from the introductions, Nina and I had been ignored by the policeman. My brother was the boss, which made us invisible as far as he was concerned.

  ‘He makes a good point. Anderson’s expecting us to retaliate and he’ll be ready. I’d disappoint him, keep him guessing. Anything else is too predictable.’

  Not what my brother wanted to hear. His fingers went back to drumming the desk.

  ‘So, we do what?’

  ‘Wait.’

  ‘Wait? For how long?’

  ‘Until it suits us.’

  Danny wasn’t impressed.

  ‘It suits us now. Every sleazebag in the city’s watching. Doing nothing sends a message. Says we’re weak. Any bastard who fancies his chances can try it on with Danny Glass and get away with it.’

  I held up my hands.

  ‘You asked. I’m telling you. Box clever.’

  Blue eyes appraised me. I’d agreed with him and the detective was seeing me in a new light. The look on Danny’s face was very different. ‘Yeah? Box clever? And let Anderson think he can take a pop whenever he likes? Yesterday can’t go unanswered. Let it go and pretty soon we’ll be out of business.’ He dismissed Stanford. ‘You can fuck off out of it and start earning your money for a change.’

  Stanford stood. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘You’d better be.’

  Marcus showed the policeman out. Danny called after him.

  ‘Don’t forget, I can cancel that membership—’ he clicked his fingers ‘—whenever I want. Just whenever I want, Oliver. Love to Elise and the kids, eh?’

  8

  The door closed and Danny glared at me.