by Ricky Black
Shrugging, Lamont took a small burn, coughing slightly. He hit it again then passed it back to Shorty, who laughed.
‘Fucking hell, didn’t think you actually would. What’s the drill?’
Lamont laughed himself. He’d indulged in a few drinks at the after-party, and his head swam. Thinking back to when he first met Louie, he spoke.
‘Remember a few years ago, when we first started, and you heard me and Louie talking?’
Shorty frowned. ‘Summat about a girl, wasn’t it?’
‘Her name was Rochelle. She was the sister of a girl that Marcus used to deal with. Dunno if you ever met her.’
‘Wait a sec, are you talking about Bad Rochelle from the ends? You smashed that?’ Shorty’s mouth hung open. Lamont again nodded. ‘Gimme some skin!’ he yelled, slapping hands with Lamont. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t tell anyone. Marcus only knew because Mia told him. It didn’t end well. Turns out she was fucking Ricky Reagan. I stopped by to talk to her and saw him there.’
‘Wait, so she played you?’
‘We were never a proper thing. I was just into her. Probably more than she was.’
‘Is that why Reagan wigged out on you at my party that time?’
‘I doubt he even remembered me. I was a nobody.’
Shorty killed the spliff and cracked open the bottle of brandy, half-filling two glasses, then topping them up with Coca Cola.
‘Why are you telling me this now?’
‘Because I need to talk about it. That funeral hit me harder than I realised. Louie left nothing behind. No-one cared. Even his sister just went through the motions. You’re one of my best friends, and I needed to get it out. I saw Rochelle recently in town, and I slept with her again.’
‘Why would you do it to yourself?’ Shorty kissed his teeth.
‘I needed closure.’
‘Closure? Are you a girl?’ Shorty rolled his eyes. Lamont laughed. It was typical Shorty.
‘I was serious about her. I brought her back to my place, and we fucked. The next day she left.’
‘Just like that?’
Lamont nodded.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t propose to her.’
‘I’m not that bad.’
Shorty continued laughing, his drink shaking. Things grew hazy after that.
Waking with a groan, Lamont found himself face-down on Shorty’s sofa, his head pounded. Closing his eyes again, Lamont swallowed down the nausea, then gingerly rose. Stumbling to the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face until the cobwebs cleared, looking at his bleary reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Wiping his eyes, he left the room. His phone rang. Lamont checked the low battery, intending to charge it when he got home.
‘Yeah?’
‘Lamont? It’s Paul. I live next door?’
‘Hey, Paul. What’s up?’
‘I’m not sure if you’re aware, but it looks like someone has broken into your house.’
‘Are you serious?’ Lamont pressed the phone to his ear.
‘The front door is definitely open, but I’m not sure. I’ve called the police anyway, so get here as soon as.’
‘I will. Thanks a lot, Paul.’ Lamont hung up, glad he’d had the foresight to share his personal number with the neighbour. He headed to wake up Shorty, his mind racing. Shorty was already up and in the kitchen. He was staring into space, frown lines etched into his forehead.
‘Bro, are you okay?’ Lamont asked, forgetting his situation for a moment.
‘Rochelle . . . I started putting pieces together when I woke up. Didn’t really register when you were telling me last night.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘She’s thingy’s bitch.’
‘What do you mean? Who’s thingy?’
‘Leader. Rochelle is his girl.’
‘Bollocks,’ scoffed Lamont. ‘She works in an office. How would she even know Leader?’
‘She’s from the Hood. If she knows Reagan, why wouldn’t she know Leader?’
‘Even if she does, what’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Leader approached you yesterday. Remember? When he was talking shit?’
‘Yes, I remember, but you’re not making any sense.’
Shorty sprang to his feet, rubbing his forehead. Lamont watched him in disbelief. He didn’t have a clue what was going on.
‘She fucked you because of him.’
‘What?’
‘Leader told her to get close to you. It’s so obvious. He’s after you. That’s why he was at the funeral.’
‘He was paying his respects to Louie.’
‘Are you hearing yourself? No one respected Louie!’
‘Why are you shouting?’
‘Because I’m vexed. That dude is coming after you. He’s supposed to respect this shit. He knows who I am.’
‘So this is about you?’
Shorty again kissed his teeth. ‘It’s about all of us.’
Lamont blinked, wetting his lips, still trying to catch up.
‘Rochelle wouldn’t do that.’
‘What, like she wouldn’t fuck you and Ricky Reagan at the same time? Grow the fuck up, L. This is the street,’ Shorty paused. ‘Wait, did you say you took her back to your place?’
Lamont froze, realising exactly why Shorty was asking.
‘Yes,’ he replied, his voice subdued now. ‘A neighbour rang me just now. Someone broke in.’
‘Leader was behind it. He expected you to be there. C’mon, I’ll call K and we’ll go over.’
Lamont was deep in his thoughts as K-Bar drove them to his house.
The connection between Rochelle and Leader seemed ridiculous. He and Leader had spoken for the first time yesterday. Leader had left after mocking Lamont though. The more Lamont considered things, the more twisted things became. He recalled seeing Leader at Shorty’s party last year. That alone added weight to Shorty’s words.
How would Rochelle have engineered a meeting though?
Lamont’s stomach twisted in a knot. His phone vibrated and when he looked at the screen and saw Rochelle’s name, he thought he was dreaming. Hesitating, he answered.
‘L?’
Lamont didn’t speak.
‘L? Are you there?’
‘Why are you calling me?’ The phone shook in Lamont’s hand as he tried to control his growing anger. He hadn’t learned a thing, even after all these years.
‘Look. I . . . what happened . . . I’m sorry. Please believe me. This thing with Leader is complicated. He found out I knew you and he was asking questions, and then he found out we slept together.’
‘You told him?’ Lamont wanted to trust Rochelle’s words, but they were lost in his growing rage.
‘No! Bronie told someone who told him. I swear, I haven’t been like that with Leader in years.’
Lamont laughed. He could feel Shorty looking.
‘You should be pleased.’
‘Pleased? Why?’
‘Even after all these years, your bargaining tools are still working. What are you after now? Money? You fucked me once, and now you’ve screwed me over once again.’
‘No! I swear this is the truth.’
‘No, this is the truth; you made one mistake. I am not the little punk you slammed the door on four years ago. When you run into your boyfriend, tell him that.’ Lamont hung up, breathing hard. Shorty surveyed him, but didn’t speak, a tense silence lasting until they arrived.
Lamont saw people milled around his house. K-Bar remained, but Shorty came with Lamont and they strode toward to the house. The front door was wide open and visibly damaged. An officer in the garden was making notes in his notepad when he saw Lamont. He blocked his path.
‘Can I help you, sir?’
‘No, you can’t. I live here, officer,’ said Lamont. This piqued the officer’s interest.
‘You’re Lamont? Lamont Jones?’
‘That’s correct. What happened?’
‘Can I get inside please? I would like to see the full damage.’
‘And I would like you to please answer my questions.’
‘You haven’t asked me any questions,’ snapped Lamont. ‘Also, you don’t have the right to stop me entering my own premises.’
The officer cleared his throat. He was young, probably a fresh recruit, with sparse blonde hair around his chin and grey eyes. He sized Lamont up, watching Shorty in the background.
‘I haven’t established who you are,’ he said, as if he’d scored a telling point. Instantly, Lamont showed the officer his driving licence.
‘Satisfied? Now, move out of the way.’
‘Watch your tone, mate.’
Shorty stepped forward.
‘Did you hear what he said? Move out the damn way so he can see the damage.’
‘This doesn’t concern you, sir,’ the officer said to Shorty.
‘Nah, it doesn’t concern you. He wants to see the fucking damage.’
The crowd watched the exchange. Already at boiling point after his talk with Rochelle, Lamont was just as ready to fight as Shorty. Thankfully, an older officer wandered over.
‘What’s going on?’
‘This is Lamont Jones, sir,’ The younger officer gestured to Lamont. ‘He wants to get inside.’
‘So, let him. It’s his place.’
His face reddening, the officer moved. Lamont and Shorty hurried inside, their feet crunching on broken glass. Lamont went straight to the living room, his stomach plummeting when he saw his CD’s and DVD’s all over the place.
He knelt down and began picking up the chess pieces that had spilled to the floor. He’d collected all the black pieces when the older officer walked in.
‘Any idea who could have done this?’
‘I was out all night. I have no idea,’ replied Lamont. He rushed upstairs. Thankfully, there was no damage.
‘We’ll need some details, and you’ll need to come to the station to give a full statement,’ the officer said when Lamont came back downstairs.
‘No.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not pursuing any charges. I don’t know what happened. You can see I was out. There is no reason for me to go to the station.’
‘But . . . Mr Jones, sir, don’t you want us to catch the guys who did this?’
‘I doubt you could,’ said Lamont scathingly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he was barely keeping hold of his temper by now. The older detective scowled. He stowed his notepad and made for the door.
‘Fine then. You’re on your own.’
Shorty waited while Lamont got his things together. Blakey had been summoned, and would stand guard until Lamont’s door was fixed. Lamont’s mind was all over the place as he stuffed clothing and essentials into a sports bag he used for the gym.
Rochelle’s betrayal stung. Lamont was sure that the night had meant more. To find out she was setting him up, was galling. It wasn’t until they drove away, that Shorty finally spoke.
‘Blakey will drive my car back. You need to ring Rochelle back.’
Lamont shot him a blank look.
‘Why?’
‘To get answers.’
‘About what?’
Shorty’s brow furrowed. He glared at Lamont.
‘About Leader. This is war now.’
‘She’s not answering.’
Lamont and Shorty stood by a phone box in the Hood. Lamont had tried ringing Rochelle three times, but she wasn’t picking up. After the way he had flipped out on her, Lamont wasn’t surprised.
‘Right, come on. We’re gonna drop off your stuff, then we’re gonna go out looking. I’m ringing Marcus.’
Later, Lamont and Shorty headed out and hit the gambling spots. It was evening now, and the games were just getting started. People would be there the rest of the night, hoping to take the tables. In a back room, Lamont and Shorty smelled fried food being cooked. The ever-present stench of weed and alcohol was in the air, but the pair barely noticed. Shorty stopped to question an acquaintance. Lamont made his way to the furthest table, tapping someone on the shoulder.
‘Can I have a quick word?’
‘What is the problem?’ Trinidad Tommy asked.
‘Leader,’ said Lamont, once Trinidad had left the table with him. A man moved straight away to take Trinidad’s place, sitting at the table and picking up the cards. ‘I need to find him.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s important.’
‘Leader is nasty. You should stay away from that kind of person. He will get you in trouble.’
‘I know what I’m doing,’ said Lamont, which was a lie. He kept recalling the way Leader’s guys had thrown the chessboard to the floor. The chessboard his father gave him. Lamont still felt the rage coursing through his veins. He wanted to hurt Leader and Rochelle for what they had done to him.
‘I don’t think you do. I know what you are, and what you’re not. Don’t let people get you into something you’re not ready for.’ Trinidad looked past Lamont at Shorty.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Lamont held out two twenty-pound notes to Trinidad.
‘What is this for?’ he looked offended.
‘For your time. I made you lose your place.’
‘I don’t want your money. I just want you to listen,’ said Trinidad. Lamont folded the money and stuck it in Trinidad’s shirt pocket.
‘The money is the only thing I can guarantee. Thank you for your time.’
Chapter Twenty Five
Thursday 13 June 2002
‘You hear anything?’
Shorty and Lamont were on Grange View in Chapeltown. Shorty slouched in the car, Lamont leaning against the bonnet talking to Marcus Daniels. Marcus stifled a yawn, his face ravaged with tiredness. Lamont didn’t know how long Marcus had been tracking Leader, but he hadn’t found anything either.
‘Leader’s people are being quiet. I’ve got contacts but all they’re telling me is that Leader is shady and no-one’s really fucking with him.’
‘How can none of them have fucking seen him? Someone’s lying,’ interjected Shorty.
‘Maybe. If they are, no-one is saying anything.’
‘What about that bitch you used to lay with? Nothing there?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen Mia since I dumped her. I went by the house, but Rochelle doesn’t live there anymore,’ Marcus rubbed his forehead. ‘I can’t believe she’s involved in this shit though. Never expected it from her.’
‘Did you know she was with Leader?’ Lamont asked. He had a feeling Marcus always knew Reagan was in the background. It wasn’t worth bringing up though.
‘It’s not a secret.’
‘You should have told me.’
Marcus laughed.
‘How was I supposed to know you were gonna bang her again?’
Lamont couldn’t argue. No one had expected to see Rochelle, least of all him. He wondered how she learned about the event, and how she would have approached if he hadn’t stepped outside.
‘Anyway, I’m gonna keep looking. I’ll get with you later.’ Marcus touched Lamont’s fist, nodded at Shorty, and left.
‘Back to square one then I guess,’ said Shorty. Lamont wasn’t listening though. He had a plan.
‘I hope you’re here to take me up on my offer,’ were Delroy’s first words as Lamont was shown into his office. It was a small house at the top of Louis Street that was heavily protected. Delroy had turned the living room into his office, which had a desk, chairs, a sofa and a large TV. There was a computer in the corner but Lamont was positive Delroy didn’t even know how to turn the thing on.
‘I’m here to talk about something else.’
Delroy signalled to Lamont to take a seat.
‘You’re wearing tha
t watch well. Your dad would be proud.’
‘Thank you,’ said Lamont humbly, looking down at the battered watch and feeling his heart swell for a moment. He focused on Delroy.
‘You called this meeting. I don’t think it’s because you just wanted to chat.’ Delroy waved his hand.
‘Do you know Leader?’
‘I know a lot of Yardies.’
‘So, you do.’
‘Why are you asking?’
‘I need to find him.’
Delroy coughed.
‘Why?’
‘I need to finish something he started,’ replied Lamont. Delroy digested that one.
‘I’m gonna send someone to get food. Proper homegrown stuff. Do you want some?’
‘I ate before I came.’ Lamont recognised a stalling tactic when he saw one.
‘Fair enough. So . . . You’re after Leader. Must be big. You look different from last time.’
‘How did I look last time?’ Lamont was intrigued.
‘On top of the world. Focused. I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Teflon. I’m sure you expected that.’
‘I did.’
‘This Leader thing. I’ve got a lot of influence over that side. One phone call to the right people, and I’d find him.’
‘But?’ Lamont prompted. Delroy smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes.
‘But, you rejected me. As much as I respect the way you do business, helping you doesn’t benefit me.’
‘So, let’s make it a business deal. Name a price.’
‘I don’t need money.’
‘I bet that if your workers started giving you less profit, you’d have something to say about it,’ Lamont pointed out. Delroy chuckled.
‘Let me put it another way then; I don’t want your money. I want you to work for me. If you can’t do that, you’re useless to me. Good luck though. I’ll tell Winston you asked after him.’
‘Please do.’ Lamont clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. He shook Delroy’s hand and moved toward the door.
‘Teflon?’
Lamont paused. Delroy grinned.
‘How does it feel to not be winning anymore?’