Blood Feud

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Blood Feud Page 18

by Anna Smith


  Now she looked around at everything she had. She knew there would be a price to pay for living in a place like this but she was tired of scratching away to earn a living, tired of being on the scrap heap with every other family in the high flats desperate to get out. She had been given a chance here, and she would grasp it with both hands no matter what it cost. She’d had it with just scraping by and living in fear. Her friend Kerry would look after her, and she would do whatever needed to be done to keep this life.

  She heard footsteps in the hall and Cal appeared in the kitchen in his pyjamas.

  ‘All right, Ma?’

  He looked tired as he shuffled to the fridge. He sniffed and turned to face her as he brought out some milk and placed it on the worktop, reaching into a cupboard and bringing out a cereal bowl.

  ‘Some gaff this, isn’t it? I’ve got Sky in my bedroom.’

  Maria almost smiled. The simple things that could swing a teenager these days.

  ‘Aye. It’s a great place to live, son. Different world.’

  ‘Are we going to be able to stay here?’

  Maria sighed. ‘I don’t know. Kerry said we can stay as long as we like. She’s getting me a job in her organisation.’

  Cal shook cereal into a bowl and poured milk in, then sat down at the table. He looked at his mother.

  ‘They’re gangsters, Ma. You know that, don’t you? The Caseys. Everyone knows that.’

  Maria made a resigned face.

  ‘I know they are. But Kerry has taken over from her brother now, and she wants to make things different.’

  ‘What do you mean, different?’ Cal asked.

  ‘She wants to make the firm legitimate. Property and stuff. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me the details, but only that she hates what her brother did to the organisation.’

  Cal said nothing, but shook his head.

  ‘Well. She’s done all right by you, Ma. And our Jenny. Is she really going into rehab?’

  ‘Yes. This afternoon. She’s being picked up and taken to this posh private place in the Borders.’

  ‘What if she doesn’t want to go?’

  ‘She’s not getting a choice,’ Maria said. ‘Listen, Cal. I want you to talk to her when she wakens up. Make her understand that this is the only way.’

  Cal nodded. ‘She’ll be all right with it.’ He looked a bit sheepish. ‘I didn’t tell you this, but I see Jen sometimes in the town and we have a cup of tea together in the café. We’ve talked about a lot of stuff, like how things were before my da went.’ He swallowed. ‘I wish I had really known him, you know. I’ve got some vague memories but I’m not even sure if they’re real or if I’ve just heard you and Jen talking about him when I was growing up. I wish I could see him.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, Jen’s told me loads of time she just wants to stop the drugs but she can’t get into rehab as there’s no beds. So she’ll go. Guaranteed.’

  ‘Jesus, I hope so, Cal. Because if she doesn’t, there’s no hope for her, the state she’s in. If she can go in there and get herself sorted, then she’s coming back to a completely different environment, living up in a place like this. Maybe if she does all right, Kerry can give her a job and all. Kerry seems really straight up about that. I know I haven’t seen her in years, but we were really close pals growing up since we were wee kids, and it feels like we’ve never been apart. I know I’m placing a lot of faith in her, and blind faith too, given what their business is. But right now, I don’t have a lot of choices.’

  Cal nodded. ‘I know. They got me out of the shit in Manchester. But I don’t know for how long. I never want to go back into a police cell as long as I live.’

  Maria smiled and ruffled his hair.

  ‘Then make sure you don’t.’ She stood up. ‘I’m going to make some bacon. You want some?’

  ‘Aye. Starving.’

  *

  Kerry was having breakfast in the kitchen while watching the news, but stopped in her tracks at the footage of men in white boiler suits disappearing into what looked like a police crime scene tent.

  ‘Breaking news just coming in,’ the presenter said. ‘Glasgow police are investigating what is believed to be the charred remains of two bodies in a burned-out car in the city’s East End. The wreckage was found at the rear of the Crown pub near Calton. Detectives have set up an incident room on the site, and forensic teams are trying to identify the remains of the dead. The bodies were discovered by a man who saw the wreckage smouldering as he was walking his dog early this morning. Police are treating this as a murder inquiry.’

  Kerry knew even before there was a knock on the kitchen door and Jack appeared.

  ‘You watching this?’

  ‘Yeah. Christ. Is this who I think it is, Jack?’

  ‘I’ll be surprised if it’s not. Have you heard from Frankie yet?’

  ‘Not since last night when he brought Jenny. He went to the house with me and we took her back to her mother. I didn’t ask him what happened. I decided that since he was so keen the other day that I leave it up to him, I give him the leeway to do that.’ She paused. ‘But Christ almighty, Jack! I didn’t expect this. What do you think?’

  Jack seemed unfazed by it.

  ‘I haven’t heard anything yet, but the jungle drums will be beating in the next couple of hours. I’m not surprised though. It’s how Frankie does things. He doesn’t mess about.’ He shrugged. ‘And to be honest, Kerry, it’s a couple of bastards off the face of the earth. No loss to anyone.’

  Kerry looked at him but didn’t say anything. He nodded and left the room, but she knew he wouldn’t be far away.

  She dialled Frankie’s mobile.

  ‘Frankie. I’ve been watching the news. Are these bodies in the burned-out car who I think they are?’

  There was a short pause and she could hear Frankie breathing.

  ‘Yeah. It’s them.’

  ‘Christ, Frankie. I didn’t know you were going to do that.’

  ‘What did you think I was going to do, Kerry? Rap their knuckles and negotiate? They’re swamp life. You saw that yourself with McCann. Guys like that don’t go away if they’ve been done over. They sit and fester and work out ways to get back at you. And they’re the kind of bastards that are so unimportant that people take their eye off them – and that’s when you get a knife in your back or a bullet in your head. They won’t harm you or our organisation again.’ He paused. ‘And it’s clean as a whistle. No comeback. I promise you.’

  ‘You should have told me, Frankie.’

  There was a moment of silence.

  ‘Kerry, you left it to me. I asked you to let me handle it, and you did. What kind of numpty would I be if I kept running everything past you? I handled it so that you wouldn’t have to. Don’t worry. It’s done and dusted. The papers will be all over it. They’ll think it was Knuckles because he lost his smack in Manchester.’

  She knew he was right about that, but didn’t want to agree with him. He was sounding cocky enough without her feeding his ego.

  ‘Okay, let’s leave it there for now. I have to go. Talk later.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cal had been put to work by Jack at the weekends, who had him valeting the cars in the used-car showroom at the edge of the city, which the Caseys had partly owned for the past two years. They’d bailed out the owner, Dec O’Hara – an old associate of Kerry’s dad she remembered from when they were growing up. The company had been about to go under with crippling debts, much of it accrued by Danno, his waster of a son, from gambling and cocaine. Not only did Danno have a gambling and cocaine habit, he had thrown a fortune at the ill-advised investment of a hotel complex on the Costa del Sol, only to discover the consortium behind the project had buggered off with his money. The hotel, which had looked fantastic on the plans, at the edge of an eighteen-hole golf course on the coast, was not even half built, and was now a blot on the landscape of Mijas. After the blow-out, old Dec had cut his son off from the business, and word was that he was last seen s
omewhere up in Alicante running a bar. Now that Kerry was running the show, she was looking to buy Dec out completely, as he was over seventy and in failing health. But she wasn’t that interested in the car showroom, even though it did turn a small profit. She wanted the hotel on the Costa, and the surrounding land, but at this stage nobody was able to tell her how she stood legally, as the consortium had vanished off the face of the earth, and only the foundations were dug. Marty had been trying to talk to Spanish lawyers, but it was a legal minefield of problems and typical Spanish red tape. But meantime, the car showroom had to be kept as a going concern, and Jack oversaw the running of it. He’d told Cal that he was keeping an eye on him, and that if he played his cards right he could make something of himself, as long as he kept away from the toerags at the car wash, who had hooked him into doing drug drops. No fear of that, Cal told him. He liked it here in the showroom. He was drawn there more and more these days, lying to Jack he’d been given a day off school for study leave, but that he would catch up on his books in the evening. Jack suspected he was playing hookie, but he had a soft spot for the kid and took him under his wing. Cal loved polishing the cars till they gleamed, especially the older Jags and Mercs, which he’d sit in, imagining himself cruising through the city. He was doing just that when he saw Jack approaching in the rear-view mirror, shaking him out of his reverie.

  ‘What’s this? You slacking in there? Don’t even fantasise about taking it for a run.’

  Cal knew he was only half serious. He’d fantasised plenty of times about driving the cars, but wouldn’t have dared.

  ‘All right, Jack?’ Cal said cheerily. ‘Aw, man. What I’d give to get a run in that wee Jag sports over there.’ He pointed to the old E-type dark green classic. ‘I mean, even the smell of the leather inside it is like some kind of drug. Whose was that motor, Jack, do you know?’

  ‘Not sure. I’ll ask Dec. Probably some old rich bastard.’

  ‘I see the salesmen turning the engine sometimes. Do you think they’d ever be taking it out for a run? I’d love to be in the passenger seat if they were.’

  Jack smiled.

  ‘I suppose so. I’ll ask Dec. You had your lunch yet?’

  ‘No. Just about to go down to the bakers. I’m starving.’

  ‘Come on. I’ll take you down the café. Seeing it’s payday.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ Cal was out of the car and his jacket on in a minute.

  Cal had grown fond of Jack, who was grumpy and funny at the same time. He knew he was some kind of head honcho in the Casey empire, but didn’t have the guts to ask any details. He was a big, sturdy guy with a broken nose, and Cal got the impression he was no stranger to violence, if the need arose. He wasn’t sure how old Jack was, but guessed he might be around the same age as his father. He’d never known what it was like to have that dad and son kind of thing that most of his mates had, even if they did bitch about their old men drinking or slapping them around. He’d be happy just to see his dad again, even if it was only for a day, just to look at him, ask him why he went away. He seldom allowed thoughts like that to flood into his mind, but when he’d been with Jack, sometimes they did for reasons he couldn’t really explain to himself.

  *

  The café was on the corner along the road from the showroom and it was busy with lunchtime schoolkids from the nearby private school, queuing up for takeaways, or schoolgirls sitting in the booths. Cal’s eye caught a girl who was in his year at school and he kept his head down, surprised that she was sitting with three private-school boys. He wondered what she was up to. He’d only had a couple of conversations with her in the schoolyard and in the dining hall. He’d always fancied her, but hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask her out yet. Jack ushered him into a seat opposite them, a few tables away, but Cal could still see them, laughing and joking. The boys were well dressed in their uniforms, and Cal was in his trackies and sweatshirt, and a bit embarrassed because now he caught the girl looking at him. He lifted his chin in acknowledgement as she smiled at him, and the sun caught her bright blue eyes. He felt himself blush.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, son? You’re all red.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Cal mumbled.

  Jack turned around and clocked the table, noticing the girl.

  ‘Oh, I see. Fancy that wee lassie, do you?’

  ‘Nah.’ Cal shifted awkwardly. ‘I just know her from school. She lives up the road from where we used to live, but I don’t know her that well.’

  ‘They’re High School boys – private, are they not?’

  ‘Aye.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe she knows them. Can’t imagine why though.’

  Jack turned around and looked at them for a longer moment. He bit into his sandwich.

  ‘Something not right there. What are three private-school boys doing with a wee lassie from the schemes?’

  Cal didn’t answer, but he was watching their every move.

  Then, he caught the girl slip something across the table, and one of the boys covered it with his hand. Then with his other hand, he passed something over. Cal felt a little sick and put down his sandwich.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jack said. ‘You look a bit queasy. You really fancy this wee girl? Has she knocked you back?’ he joked, sipping his tea.

  Cal could feel the rage burning his cheeks and his breath quickened. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, out of the booth and going across to the table. His legs felt shaky; he had no idea what he was going to say, but he couldn’t help himself.

  He stood at the table and looked straight at the girl, who glanced at him, then down at the table, her face going bright red.

  ‘Mary,’ he said. ‘You all right?’

  She said nothing, her face burning.

  ‘What the fuck do you want, mate?’

  The biggest of the three boys looked up at him, contempt all over his privileged face.

  ‘I’m not your fucking mate.’ Cal glared at him, then at the girl. ‘Mary. What are you doing here, with these pricks?’

  As soon as he said it there was a shuffling of feet in the booth as two of the boys made to get up.

  ‘Cal,’ Mary said, almost apologetically. ‘Look, just leave it.’

  ‘No. I won’t leave it. I saw what you just did.’

  Mary moved to get up, but the bigger guy grabbed her roughly by the wrist.

  ‘You sit fucking tight, bitch.’

  Tears immediately sprang to the girl’s eyes.

  ‘Look, Thomas. I need to get back. My sisters are waiting for me.’

  ‘Shut up, slut.’

  Cal suddenly grabbed him by throat.

  ‘Don’t you ever fucking talk to her like that again, rich boy, or I’ll punch the fuck out of you.’

  Then it all erupted. The three boys jumped up and they were all on top of Cal in an instant, but he managed to throw a punch squarely at one of the boys and burst his nose. Then as they all grabbed him, throwing him to the ground, he could feel boots laying into his ribs and a foot on his face as he struggled to get up. It all happened so fast, but Jack was on his feet in a second and wading in, lifting boys by the hair and throwing them across the room. The Italian owner came rushing round as people shrank back, cups flying.

  ‘Jack, Jack! What’s going on here! Come on! Stop this now! My place is full of customers!’

  The boys struggled to their feet, one of them holding his nose, the others more shellshocked than anything. The bigger one got up and had a last kick at Cal as he got to his feet.

  ‘You’ll be fucking sorry you ever did this, you shitbag.’ Cal struggled to his feet and made to go for him again, but the owner got between them as Jack held the others back.

 

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