by Anna Smith
‘I asked the boss. He said you didn’t call. Just didn’t show up no more.’
‘I know.’ Cal jerked his head to the café door. ‘Come on. I’m starving.’
‘Me too,’ Tahir said.
Cal pushed open the door and they went inside, making their way to a seat in a less crowded section close to the back. They sat opposite each other, immediately scanning the menu on the table, not speaking for a few seconds.
‘I need a burger and chips,’ Tahir said. ‘Had nothing all day.’
‘Why not?’ Cal said. He noticed his friend’s eyes had tired shadows, clocked his greasy hair, and he could see he needed a shower and a change of clothes.
Tahir shrugged, glanced over his shoulder, then leaned a little closer.
‘I got not much money right now. I been saving everything I make. I got some plans.’
Cal looked at him and for a moment he wondered if he was going away. He wished they could have been closer friends, and he felt sorry for him because he always seemed alone, and though he must have been made of tough stuff to make it here on his own and survive, there was a kind of darkness about him. He imagined what it would have been like if it was him on his own.
‘Really? You going away somewhere?’ Cal asked.
Tahir was about to answer when the young waitress came sashaying up, chewing gum, and looked at Cal.
‘Can I get you something?’
‘Aye. Burger and chips, please. And a Coke.’
She glanced at Tahir with a look of contempt but said nothing. It immediately irked Cal, and he could see that Tahir felt it too.
‘I have cheeseburger and chips. And Coke. Please.’
She looked at him and screwed her eyes up.
‘Can you repeat that in English?’
Tahir looked away. Cal glared at her.
‘Are you deaf?’ he said. ‘He was speaking perfect English.’
She shrugged, unfazed.
‘Didnae hear him right. The accent. Cannae understand these people half the time. They’re all over the place.’
Cal felt angrier than he probably should have, and right now he wanted to get up and leave, but he would stand his ground for his friend.
‘He said he wants a cheeseburger and chips and a Coke. Now can you write that down and read it back to me? In English.’
‘Aye, very funny,’ she said. ‘You’re a comedian, you are.’
‘I want to make sure you’ve got it right. Otherwise I can ask your boss.’
The waitress shot him a furious glare and read the order aloud.
‘Great,’ Cal said. ‘Any time you’re ready.’
When she left, Cal winked at Tahir.
‘Bitch will probably spit on our burgers now.’ He shook his head. ‘Arsehole.’
‘Never mind,’ Tahir said. ‘Is not important. I see it many times since I come here. I stopped caring about things like that.’ He paused, looked around again. ‘Anyway. I have more exciting things to tell you. But first. Why you no come back to car wash?’
Cal sighed. His gut told him he could take Tahir into his confidence, even though they didn’t know each other all that well. He knew he was decent and hard-working, and didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would betray a friend.
‘Long story, mate. I got some trouble, and I have to keep my head down.’
Tahir watched him.
‘I thought maybe this is the case. That’s why I didn’t ask the boss much.’
‘Not even sure if he knows about it.’
Tahir narrowed his eyes.
‘I see you with the other guys who came up to the car wash that day. The rich guys in the car. They were talking to you. Gangsters, I think.’
‘Yeah. You’re not wrong.’
‘Drug dealers.’
‘Look, I don’t really want to talk about it, Tahir. Honest. It’s not that I don’t trust you, man, but I just want to forget it. Less said about it the better. But I’ve got another part-time job now doing some odd jobs, and I won’t be coming back. I got caught up in something I shouldn’t have and got my fingers burnt.’
Tahir let out a low whistle and shook his head.
‘You must be careful, Cal. If you fucked up on a drug thing, then these guys always look for you.’
‘I didn’t fuck up. I didn’t do anything. But suddenly, I find myself in trouble. Anyway. It’s being dealt with.’ He changed the subject. ‘So tell me. What’s exciting?’
The waitress arrived with the drinks, and set them down noisily on the table.
‘Okay. I tell you. My family – well, my brother. He is the only one I have left. He is back in Iraq. But he is coming here. I am helping him. With his wife and their boy and little girl. The boy is three years old now, and the girl two.’
‘Really? They’re coming here? How?’
Tahir’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘The smugglers are bringing them.’ He spread his hands. ‘Big money, my friend. Cost big money. That is why I am saving all my money.’
‘Jesus!’ Cal said.
He’d seen stories on the news all the time of smugglers bringing refugees over in boats and containers and cars. Making money from them.
‘But that is a fortune, Tahir. How can you pay for that? And it’s not even safe. Christ, man! That’s well dodgy.’
He nodded. ‘I know is dangerous. Yes. I know is a lot of money, but my brother is paying a lot too. He pays the smuggler on the other side and I pay this side.’
‘Christ! How much? I mean, who are you paying? How do you know they won’t rip you off?’
‘I know is a chance to steal my money. But the guy here I was put in touch with through my brother. Is all the same people. I have to pay eighteen hundred pounds, and my brother pays two thousand five hundred. All his money in his life he is paying.’
‘Where is your brother now?’
‘He is in Turkey. He is staying in a tent there. But is freezing. He is coming soon.’
‘But how? On a truck or something?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know the arrangement yet. The guy here says to me, he will tell me when it is ready. I already paid him nearly a thousand pounds.’
‘Jesus, mate. Where did you get that kind of money?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Same as you my friend. From the drug drops.’
Cal’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Christ almighty!
The waitress came up and slammed the food down on the table.
‘Holy fuck, man. Seriously?’
Tahir shrugged. ‘Yes. Has to be done. My brother will be here soon. I am so happy to be seeing him.’
Cal watched him as he stabbed a few chips onto a fork and stuffed them into his mouth, his heart sinking by the minute.
*
It was getting dark as Cal walked home after saying goodbye to Tahir. When they left the café, they walked together until Tahir took the bus to the digs he shared in Sighthill along with some other immigrants. Cal was angry and scared and depressed for his friend all at the same time. He thought how lucky he was, as he walked up towards Hyndland where the tenement flats had lights and life inside, and people were living privileged lives compared to the one Tahir was living. He was going to a house like this too, but he was far from privileged in the circumstances that led him to be here. But from where he was right now, he felt lucky. His mother would be in the flat, looking better than she had in weeks. His sister was now four days into rehab and they hadn’t heard from her, but that’s how it had to be for a whole month. At least she wasn’t standing shivering in some doorway up the drag. But he couldn’t get Tahir out of his mind.
Chapter Thirty
The day Kerry had walked into the Paradise Club and seen McCann beating up the defenceless girl was the first time she’d seen up close what she had got herself into. That was just how it worked. Girls like the Russian hooker would never have a say in how their lives would turn out, at the mercy of bastards like McCann. He was nobody, yet he had power over the weakest in his own grubby operat
ion. The higher up the food chain, the more power over the weakest. And the ultimate power was with the boss who ran the show – and now that was her. None of this was lost on Kerry in her darker moments, when her conscience plagued her, questioned her, niggled away at her when sleep wouldn’t come. Yet it hadn’t stopped her stepping in and pistol-whipping McCann on impulse that day, as though she’d been doing it all her life. Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe she was just as much a criminal as her father and brother were. After all, her conscience hadn’t disturbed her at all as she’d grown up in Spain living in comfort on the proceeds of her father’s criminal earnings. But now it was different. Her father had been an old-fashioned criminal – a safe-cracker and a robber – and somehow while it was far from respectable, it wasn’t something she would hide in shame from. Now it was all drug money. She only had to take a drive back through the old neighbourhood where she grew up to see how heroin and cocaine had swallowed up whole communities. The families who remained untouched by drugs were the lucky ones. She only had to look at her old friend Maria, struggling to cope with how heroin had all but claimed her two children, to feel sickened by what, at the end of the day, she was now a part of. Jenny was in rehab, financed by Kerry, and by all accounts doing well. Cal, according to Jack, was a good lad and shaping up well. Helping Maria went some way to salving Kerry’s conscience, because at least she was trying to pull someone out of the mire. Yet despite the jabbing guilt, Kerry was still running the show in this business that was built around drugs. And now, here she was, waiting for Sharon to show up in the restaurant to talk about the shipment of cannabis and cocaine they were about to steal from Knuckles Boyle in Amsterdam.
If ever there was a game of double standards, it was the one Kerry played out in her mind most nights when she lay in bed tossing and turning. But every morning, she pushed her thoughts away, consoling herself with the determination that it wouldn’t always be like this. Last night, before she went to bed, she had pored over the plans for the hotel on the Costa del Sol, lying waiting to be built. This would be her first major project. She had already instructed Marty to talk to the old man about selling the car showroom and his entire business. But first, she had to deal with a drug shipment from Amsterdam, as well as her thoughts last night about Vinny Burns. Even after all these years, there had still been a spark as they’d sat together during the long lunch. But it wasn’t just that. It was business too. What if the best way to do Knuckles into the ground was to get the cops to clean him out? Maybe Vinny was right, and she should be looking to the cops if she wanted to change things. She’d have to be careful how she broached this with Sharon. Grassing to the cops was how Sharon would no doubt describe it. Kerry preferred to think about it as working with them, a bit of give and take on both sides. She saw it as a possible way out, a means to an end, when she could pursue what she wanted for her organisation.
Sharon appeared at the doorway to the restaurant and Kerry watched as her eyes flicked around the room, empty apart from an old couple and what looked like might be their daughter having afternoon tea. How civilised, she thought, given her own business, as Sharon came striding across to her in tight leather leggings and knee-high flat-heeled black suede boots.
‘How you doing?’ Kerry said, as Sharon eased herself onto the seat.
‘I’m good,’ Sharon said. ‘Well, as good as it gets right now. Yourself?’
‘Much the same. Trying to keep all the balls in the air and watch my back at the same time.’
Kerry was considering telling her about Pollock and McCann’s bodies being found in the burnt-out car, but she wasn’t sure if she should. Then Sharon beat her to the mark.
‘I saw the stuff on the news about that prick Pollock and his mate being found dead in a car. I was wondering if your crew had anything to do with it.’
Kerry looked at her, surprised. ‘You know Pollock?’
‘I met him once. I know who he is. Knuckles sold to him – heroin, coke. You know that?’
‘I do now. Or I found out a few days ago.’
Sharon nodded slowly, as though she approved of the hit, even though Kerry hadn’t admitted it was anything to do with her firm. The waitress came and Sharon ordered tea.
‘I hear on the grapevine there was some fuck-up with Knuckles’ drugs because of Pollock. Heard the dick he sent did a runner. Probably grassed up or something. And some teenage boy was left to carry the can. Arseholes.’
‘Yeah. I heard.’
‘Knuckles will be looking for that boy. So if you know who he is, you’d do well to warn him.’
Kerry nodded, placing her cup on the table. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She changed the subject. ‘So. The shipment. Anything new?’
Sharon stalled until the waitress had placed her teapot and crockery on the table.
‘Not much on the shipment itself. I talked to my man over there and he says it’s all on course.’ She paused. ‘But we need to go over details, routes and stuff.’
‘Yeah. We can talk that through today, as far as we can.’
Sharon poured from the teapot and looked up at Kerry.
‘By the way, Knuckles is going to Spain in a couple of days, I hear.’
‘Really. You know why?’
‘Fucker’s probably looking for me.’ She gave a throaty smoker’s chuckle. ‘Knowing him, he’ll be shelling out money everywhere to try and track me down.’ She looked at Kerry, then beyond her. ‘We . . . I mean he, has a villa down outside Marbs. Close to Puerto Banus. He’ll be over there regrouping with his boys. Getting pissed and racking up the lines of coke. Usual shit. Flexing his muscles.’
‘I take it he knows about the shipment though. I mean, I know he leaves it all to you, but he must know it’ll be on its way to the UK soon.’
Sharon nodded. ‘Yeah. He phoned my man out in Amsterdam. Asked if I’d been in touch, and he was told no. But he knows the shipment was planned for the day it is, so he told Jan that I was away on business and that he was just letting him know to go ahead. What a tit. Shows you how stupid he is.’
‘It’s quite staggering that he hasn’t at least sent someone out to Amsterdam to see things before the shipment hits the road. There’s a lot of money involved. And especially with him already losing the drugs to Pollock.’
‘I know. But he’s so arrogant. He’ll be thinking that my man out there is too terrified to put a foot wrong, that he will do exactly as he’s told. He’s expecting the trucks at his warehouse on the due date.’ She grinned. ‘I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that moment.’
Kerry thought about what she said for a few seconds and still found it hard to believe that Knuckles would just leave it as it is.
‘But will he really not be doing anything to watch for the shipment as it leaves – given that two of his men who tried to kill you are dead, and you are out there somewhere?’
Sharon shrugged. ‘You never really can be a hundred per cent sure. I’ll be honest with you, he might have sent someone in the background to quietly take a look. But, like I said before, when they go to the warehouse in Amsterdam they are not going to find anything untoward. The trucks will be leaving as usual. Unless he has the manpower to follow them, he’ll never know. And he won’t send someone to track them all the way to the UK.’
Kerry hoped she was right. She waited a moment before she spoke. She hadn’t told Sharon of her plans to take some of the shipment to apartments they had on the Costa del Sol and move it on from there. And she also hadn’t discussed with Sharon what she wanted from this. Now was the time to do it.
‘Sharon.’ She sat back, crossed her legs. ‘You haven’t said yet what you want from the shipment. I presume you’re not just going to write it off – like give it away.’
Sharon sat for a moment, studying her.
‘What do you mean? Like how much am I looking for?’
‘Well. It’s Knuckles’ shipment. It’s not mine.’
Sharon took a breath and let it out slowly.
‘What would you propose to do with it? We haven’t discussed that yet, Kerry.’
‘I know. It’s all happening so fast. But what I would do with it, is not bring all of it to the UK, and instead take the bulk of it down to the Costa del Sol. I have places I can store it there.’
‘What? Then move it on?’
‘I have people who can do that – move it on. And I can use it as a bargaining chip.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘With the Durkins and the Hills.’
Sharon gave her a wry smile.
‘For someone new to the game, you are fast on your feet, Kerry.’
She shrugged. ‘Needs must. An opportunity has come my way, through you, and I’d be a poor businesswoman if I didn’t look at it and work out what best to do.’
Sharon nodded. ‘When you say “bargaining chip”, what do you mean?’
Kerry put her head back for a second and tried to pick her words. ‘I’ll be honest with you. When I agreed to meet you it was only because you came to me offering a way to destroy Knuckles. I admire you for having the backbone to do that. This shipment is one shipment – four trucks – okay, it’s worth a substantial amount, but there will be more of that where it came from, and it won’t put Knuckles out of business. It’ll make a dent. But it won’t kill him.’
‘And you want to kill him. Of course you do.’
‘I want to ruin him. Don’t you?’
‘You bet I do.’
‘Then what if there was a scenario that one of the trucks arrived in the UK at Knuckles’ warehouse as arranged, and he was there to greet it.’ Kerry paused, choosing her words carefully, but there was no easy way to say it. ‘And, say, the cops were there too. And he was caught, bang on, red-handed, up to his arse in a shipment fresh from Europe with his fingerprints all over it.’
Sharon looked at her, a little nonplussed.
‘You mean grass him up? Are you serious?’
‘It would be a means to an end.’
‘It’s grassing him up though. I mean, what’s the point in even getting cops involved at all? They’ll be all over it, and before I know where I am they’ll be all over me. Jesus Christ, Kerry!’