by Ricky Black
‘Only when necessary.’
‘Why?’
‘You learn more when you listen,’ replied Lamont. Delroy’s eyebrows rose.
‘I like that. I like that a lot,’ he said, swirling his brandy around in the glass before taking a liberal gulp. ‘I hear good things about you, kid. I knew your people.’
Lamont’s stomach jolted as it always did at the mention of his parents.
‘You look like your mother,’ Delroy continued. Lamont nodded dumbly.
‘I don’t make it a habit to bring strangers to my home. I’ve checked you out though. You run that little team of yours to perfection.’
‘I do my best.’
‘Your best is brilliant. With the right coaching, you could be a big deal. What are you after?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You went from selling ten pound draws to moving kilo’s in what? A year? Two years?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I’m asking how far you want to go. You’re a smart kid, I can tell that right off. You can make money doing anything, so why play the game?’
‘Because what I do is the easiest way to win.’
Delroy studied Lamont carefully.
‘I agree, and I wanna help you get there.’
Lamont was supposed to ask how. He didn’t take the bait. Delroy chuckled.
‘Work for me and I’ll make you rich. I’ll show you the view from the top and by the end, you’ll be richer and bigger than me.’
Lamont saw the satisfaction on Delroy’s face. He wondered how many greedy youngsters had swallowed what he told them hook, line and sinker. He sensed the malice in the older man’s eyes, easily making up his mind.
‘I appreciate the offer. Meaning no disrespect, I’m happy with how things are going for me right now.’
The smug look hadn’t left Delroy’s face, but his eyes hardened. Lamont knew of how dangerous the answer was, but had his principles. He wouldn’t work for anyone else. Even Reagan worked for someone else, Lamont thought to himself with a certain satisfaction.
‘Maybe you need a little incentive,’ Delroy stood in front of a painting. Moving it aside, he revealed a wall-safe and typed a combination on the keypad with his fat fingers. Removing a stack of money, he locked the safe again. ‘Ten grand. Call it a signing-on fee.’
‘It’s generous,’ Lamont admitted. ‘I can’t accept it though.’
Delroy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you like money?’
‘I love money. I just love control more,’ said Lamont. Delroy eyed him.
‘Man to man, I have to respect your decision,’ Delroy scratched the underside of his beard. ‘Tell you what though . . . I have something that I know you’ll take. Wait here.’ Delroy left the room again. He sauntered back into the room with a box and handed it to Lamont. ‘Open it.’
Lamont took the box. When he saw what rested there, he couldn’t speak. Delroy watched him closely.
‘Take it you recognise that?’
In the box was an old gold watch. It was more weathered than the last time Lamont had seen it. He nodded, feeling a lump in his throat.
‘Me and your pops respected each other. I know he always wanted to give that to you.’
Lamont wanted to ask how Delroy had procured the watch but it didn’t matter. When Lamont was younger, his father had promised he would give him the watch one day, but Auntie gave it to one of her boyfriends after his death.
‘Thank you,’ Lamont said, his voice more of a croak, eyes wet.
‘Take it. Take the money too,’ Delroy urged. Picking up the box containing the watch, Lamont stood, facing Delroy and holding out his hand.
‘Thank you.’
Delroy nodded, mirroring the seriousness.
‘You’re a good kid . . .’ he hesitated. ‘My man will drop you where you need to go.’
That night Lamont lay in bed fingering the watch. He didn’t think the gesture had been made out of kindness but right now he didn’t care. Slipping the watch onto his wrist, Lamont smiled to himself. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt good. The watch was loose, but he would get it resized. He felt a deep euphoria within, as if he had crossed some mythical line. Drifting into an easy sleep, Lamont felt truly happy for the first time in years.
The next morning, Delroy’s people knocked and delivered the ten thousand pounds he’d turned down. He hadn’t shown them where he lived.
Chapter Fifteen
Thursday 17 June 1999
Lamont paid for a brandy and coke, navigating his way across the room to Xiyu.
‘What’s up then?’ Lamont asked. Xiyu had called, asking Lamont to meet him at the pub again. Like last time, it was packed, and Lamont was already wondering if it was worth investing in a pub in the city centre. He resolved to speak with Martin.
Xiyu was by himself, no women in sight. He was slightly hunched, and seemed to be avoiding the crowds. It was a direct contrast to their last meeting.
‘Is business going well?’
‘Business?’ Lamont frowned. Xiyu scooted closer.
‘I know what you do, L.’
Without warning, Lamont gripped Chink’s shirt.
‘What’s your game? Are you grassing?’
‘Course not,’ Xiyu jerked away. ‘Look, people talk. You’re the man, and Martin’s been dressing better. Obviously, he’s making good money.’
Lamont nodded.
‘Sorry for gripping you. Go on.’
‘I want to borrow some money.’
‘Are you in trouble?’
Xiyu shook his head.
‘I’m not, L. Honestly.’
Lamont sipped his drink.
‘How much?’
‘Five thousand pounds.’
Lamont didn’t immediately respond, watching Xiyu’s fingers tighten around his pint. He admired his friends composure. If he knew what Lamont did, it was likely he knew about Shorty, K-Bar and the others too.
‘That’s a lot of textbooks.’
‘I’m sure it is, but that’s not what I want the money for.’
‘Are you going to tell me what you do want the money for, or would you like me to guess?’
‘I want to invest in some nightlife.’ Xiyu didn’t go into detail, but it intrigued Lamont.
‘You’ll have to be more specific.’
‘I’ve been doing some experimentation in the clubs, and I believe I’ve found an easy resource that can be tapped to make us both money.’
‘What kind of explanation is that?’ said Lamont with a laugh. Xiyu grinned.
‘I wouldn’t ever mess with your money, L, but I can do this. There’s money to be made on the club scene and I’m the man to make it.’
‘When did you start hustling?’
Xiyu shook his head. ‘I’m just someone who knows what he wants in life and is willing to take multiple pathways to get there. If you lend me the money, you’ll get it back plus an extra ten percent.’
‘When would I get it back?’
‘Within a month.’
‘And if you can’t do what you think you can do?’
Xiyu met Lamont’s eyes. ‘I can do it.’
Lamont weighed it over. Five thousand pounds wouldn’t leave him in any debt, and something in Xiyu’s manner made Lamont confident. If there was another easy outlet for profit, Lamont needed to risk it.
‘When do you need the money?’
‘Whenever you can get it to me.’
‘Take my address. Come tomorrow after seven. I’ll have the money. I hope that this hunch of yours pays off,’ Lamont said, studying Xiyu. The meaning was clear.
‘I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t positive,’ said Xiyu, smiling widely again. ‘Let’s get another drink, and I can tell you more about it.’
Sunday 4 July 1999
Lamont stifled a yawn as the black cab pulled up outside his home. When he’d paid the driver and retrieved his luggage, he headed inside. Deciding to take care of unpacking later, he went to th
e kitchen and made a cup of tea. He drank it standing at the counter, reaching for his mobile to call Shorty.
‘I’m back,’ he said as his friend answered.
‘Good to hear from you, blood. Pass through to my place anytime. I’m not going nowhere.’
Finishing his drink, Lamont made a quick meal, and had a shower. He dressed in a tracksuit, then drove over to Shorty’s spot. The smell of weed stung his nostrils as he walked into the living room.
Shorty was slouched in front of the TV, staring at the screen as he puffed on a spliff. He had his feet on the coffee table next to a selection of mobile phones. He slapped Lamont’s hand in greeting.
‘Yes, L! What was it saying over there? How did you get back from the Airport?’
‘Greece is all right, actually. I met some good people over there. You should head out for a trip sometime. I just got a taxi home from the airport. Forgot to arrange some travel.’
Shorty shook his head. ‘I would have got one of the youths to pick you up if you’d let me know. Those black cabs are expensive.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’m here now, so it’s cool. How are things?’ Lamont had left Shorty in charge for the week while he went to Greece. It was his first time leaving the country, and he’d enjoyed the experience. Shorty shrugged.
‘Dead really. There was drama, but none of our people were involved.’
‘What sort of drama are we talking about here?’
‘Reagan killed someone. Out in public too. Blew this guys head off because he owed a chunk of money and apparently made it clear he wasn’t paying. Police picked up Reagan and everything, but he had an alibi.’
Lamont’s mouth tightened. His hatred for Ricky Reagan had never abated, and Lamont doubted it ever would. Even the thought of him brought back memories of his half-naked body pressed against Rochelle’s in the doorway, and his parting words of disrespect to Lamont. It had been over two years, but those feelings lingered.
‘Weren’t there any witnesses?’
‘Course. None of them were gonna testify though. Delroy would kill their whole families.’
‘Business still strong?’ Lamont changed the subject.
Shorty grinned. ‘We’re selling out everywhere. People can’t take our product quick enough. K-Bar’s got some new links out near Halton Moor, and they’re begging him to get more product!’
Lamont was pleased, but concerned by Shorty’s words. Their explosion had come out of nowhere. At one point they were growing in stature and gaining more clientele, then suddenly they had exploded into one of the largest teams on the streets.
They’d ramped up, with Shorty building up an army of runners and lieutenants, meaning less moving around for he and Lamont. He oversaw the streets and Lamont oversaw him and K-Bar. The pressure rose at the same time, and their growth was putting a spotlight on the team; a spotlight that led to increased police activity, among other potential threats.
‘Make sure he’s taking it easy. Make sure everyone is actually. Things are going well. We don’t want to mess that up.’
‘L, don’t worry, bro. Things are cool. Now, take a fucking seat, stop being a baby and tell me about Greece. I know you got laid over there!’
Days after Lamont’s return from Greece. He, Shorty and K-Bar went for food. They spoke as they ate, discussing the streets. People were still buzzed from Reagan’s arrest, and the summer had everyone out to prove a point.
‘Next reload is coming in on Thursday. Make sure you give more to Shane’s lot. They moved loads last week. Think they’ve got some crews buying wholesale, so we’ll take advantage of that.’
‘Cool.’
Shorty wiped his mouth after finishing his food.
‘What about Blanka? He’s making a lot of noise.’
Blanka was named after the Street Fighter character. He was erratic, but had solid connections and a good supply. Lamont had heard his name before, hearing he treated his team badly and kept most of the profits for himself. Because of his reputation however, people gave him a wide berth.
‘Blanka is a machine,’ said K-Bar. ‘Remember when Bali tried to take him out last year? He’s been on the run ever since.’
‘Bali was a dickhead, K. He had sloppy people trying to do the job. That whole situation made Blanka look better than he was. It helped his rep. His whole team hates him, and he’s been slapping the wrong people around.’
‘You want to take him out?’ Lamont asked, scratching the underside of his jaw. He could see the merit, as removing Blanka would increase their reputation and their market share. With Blanka’s antics however, he was almost definitely a police target, and if they linked their team to his murder, it would mean more negative attention.
‘Yeah, I’m ready to bump with him. Me and K could get the job done.’
‘You could, but it’s a big risk. Police are watching, waiting for us to mess up.’
‘Get Marcus to do it then. He’s built up a team of wolves. They’d do this easy.’
Lamont considered this. It wasn’t a bad plan. Marcus was still involved in robberies, but he had diversified into other areas, and his team had adapted with him. He had several young killers who would do whatever he ordered without fail, and wasn’t afraid to use them when necessary. Lamont mulled it over, feeling Shorty and K-Bar’s eyes burning into him. He would not rush his decision though, and it was after a few minutes of silence that he finally decided.
‘Speak to Marcus. Set it up and sort out a price. Treat it like a proper job, give him the right instructions and get it done. Reach out quietly to Blanka’s number two guy and offer him money to sell out Blanka. If he says no . . .’ Lamont let the words hang, but the meaning was clear to both Shorty and K-Bar, and they wore matching grins.
‘Blood, it’s already done. We’ll sort all of this, don’t worry.’
After the meal, Lamont headed home. The life was hotting up, and he needed to make sure he was ready to move. Shorty and K-Bar were out to make waves, and Lamont would need to keep them in line.
Thursday 7 July 1999
Lamont was slouched in front of the TV when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Lazily picking it up without even checking who it was, he answered.
‘L, are you at home?’ Xiyu sounded breathless.
‘Yeah. Is something wrong?’ Lamont sat up now.
‘I need to come and see you. Is that cool?’
‘Course it is. I’ll leave the door open.’
Less than ten minutes later, Xiyu bounded into the house, carrying his rucksack and two containers of coffee. He offered one to Lamont and greedily sipped at the other one. Lamont watched, disgusted.
‘You could at least let it cool down.’
‘I don’t want it to cool down. Strike while the iron’s hot. Drink while the coffee’s hot. The two together.’
‘Whatever, Sun Tzu. What was so urgent? You sounded like you were getting a blow job on the phone.’
‘You might want to give me one when you find out what I’ve got for you.’ Xiyu bounced on the soles of his feet. He wore a lightweight black jacket, jeans and shoes. Lamont wondered if he was going out tonight. Or, if he had been out already.
‘I strongly doubt that anything you say could push me to those levels,’ Lamont shook his head. ‘What’s up?’
Xiyu opened his bag and handed a brown envelope to Lamont. Lamont sifted through, surprised to see a bundle of neat twenty and fifty-pound notes. He fingered a few, tickled to see that all the queens heads were facing the same way.
‘How much is here?’
‘Six grand. I paid extra on top of the agreed amount.’
‘I only gave you the money the other week. What the hell did you do?’
‘I invested it like I said I would. Put some product out in the clubs. The money helped pay off a few of the little bouncer firms; the rest took care of itself.’
Lamont gazed from the money, to Xiyu. The club scene wasn’t easy. Lamont had made a few feelers after he started dealin
g with Bill, but no one seemed able to handle it.
‘How solid is your team?’
‘Watertight. Everyone knows their role. I’ve been cultivating people for a while now. All that was missing was the money. Even after paying everybody off, I’ve cleared nearly ten thousand pounds. I’m going to flip that now.’
‘What are you moving?’ Lamont was wary talking drugs in his house, but enthusiasm won over.
‘Everything I can. I have reliable clientele in the clubs. Not like the lagging crackheads on the streets. These are working guys; they’re dependable, with good jobs. They don’t want the aggro. They just wanna do business. Isn’t that what it’s about?’
Lamont nodded, looking down at the money again, doing calculations in his head.
‘Xiyu, I think we need to have a talk . . .’
Chapter Sixteen
Saturday 10 July 1999
‘I don’t like it.’
‘What’s not to like?’
Shorty and Lamont were driving from a meeting, waiting in traffic. Lamont had mentioned Xiyu, and the money he’d made for them. The discussion had continued ever since. The car they were driving, a tidy grey Alfa Romeo, had been rented specifically for the trip. Neither wanted the police getting too familiar with their cars.
‘Chink is legit. He’s not dirty like us.’ Shorty turned up the Jay-Z track pumping through the speaker. Lamont turned it back down.
‘Why do you call him Chink?’
‘Because. He’s Chinese.’
‘So if he called you nigger, you’d be okay with that?’
The lights changed to green. Shorty beeped at the Vauxhall in front of them to hurry.
‘If he dropped the n-bomb, I’d smack his fucking face off. Fact is, I don’t like it.’
‘He made us six grand. In a few weeks. Think of the return if we gave him more money.’
‘Why are you talking about we like you haven’t already decided?’ Shorty scowled.
‘I haven’t decided anything. I’m talking it over with you.’