by Anna Smith
‘Please! No! Don’t! No more!’
Cal turned and both went towards the door. They went out, locked the door from the outside, and when they got to the steps, Cal threw the keys as far as he could, over the high wooden fence into the long grass in the garden next door.
‘Let’s go.’
They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, adrenalin pumping through them as they crossed backstreets and alleys and onto the street that led towards Kelvingrove Park. As they ran and ran, Cal knew that right there and then they had started down a new path – and neither of them knew where it would lead.
*
In the back of the shed behind Tahir’s house, they sat looking at the bags of money, both of them soaked in sweat.
‘Fuck, man! That was crazy!’ Tahir said, his eyes dancing.
Cal smiled. ‘Yeah. Crazy, man! But in a good way. You see the amount of money that was in there? That’s all robbed from people like my ma, like you, all the people he robs with his extortion.’
Tahir nodded. ‘Many bad people like him,’ he said, resigned. ‘It’s how the world is.’
‘Aye,’ Cal said, kneeling down and emptying the bags onto the floor. ‘But sometimes the bad guys like him get a right kicking when people like us fight back. That happened today, Tahir.’
Tahir smiled. ‘What we going to do with all this money?’
Cal rubbed his face, felt the sweat on the back of his neck.
‘We’ll work that out. We’ll give it to people who need it. But we’ll get your family here with it as well.’
Cal looked at his friend and could see his eyes glistening a little. Tahir sat down beside him and, in silence, they began unfolding the piles of money and counting it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kerry was aware that her absence from the house last night wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the guards working the night shift. They had seen her go out, driven by Eddie the chauffeur and would no doubt have called him when his car didn’t return with her, even well into the night. Kerry had made the decision to tell Don not to hang around the restaurant, but that she would call him to let him know her plans. When she phoned him at midnight, to say she would be staying with a friend, she knew that Don would be the soul of discretion. He had simply asked her if she was sure she was all right, and that he would let the staff know. If need be she was to call him in the morning. Kerry had decided to get a taxi back to the house, as she didn’t want Don coming to Vinny’s flat to pick her up.
She’d smiled to herself when she’d got into the taxi outside Vinny’s place in the early morning daylight. There was something of the walk of shame about this that made her feel alive.
Now, as she ate her breakfast of poached eggs, toast, bacon and coffee in her kitchen, she turned on the radio to listen to the news. She heard the newsreader say police were still investigating the murders of the two men in the burnt-out car, and were convinced it was drug-related. Kerry thought of Jenny, and how well she was doing, and was glad she’d been able to help. Maria was enjoying work at the bookies doing the admin and secretarial work, and her boy Cal was doing odd jobs and running errands for Jack. In the couple of times she’d met him, he seemed like a decent enough lad but she’d felt there was a bit of darkness about him, a distance and anger that she could see in him, and she wondered how that would all pan out as he went through life. If it was channelled in the right direction, he could make a success of himself. But from what she heard from Jack, Cal was angry inside. He’d told her about the incident in the café and how Cal had wanted to beat the hell out of the public-school boys. But, more disturbing, was that he had told Jack he wanted revenge for the moneylender Dolan raping his mum. Poor Maria. She had never mentioned the rape, and the fact that her childhood friend was suffering in silence made Kerry feel sick inside. She could understand Cal wanting revenge, and despite her instinct being to tell Maria to report the attack to police, Kerry knew that there was no way that could happen in the world they lived in now. Dolan would get payback for the filthy predatory bastard he was, but it would not be by going to court and making Maria go through the ordeal of a witness box. Kerry left Jack to deal with it, when the time was right.
Kerry hadn’t been able to put Vinny Burns out of her mind since she came back this morning. He’d sent her a couple of texts, no name, but she knew it was him, just saying how much he enjoyed last night, and wanted to see her again. She allowed herself to go into a reverie for a moment, remembering the explosive sex between them when they almost hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. Then they’d fallen asleep together as though they’d been doing this for years. She shook her head and sighed. The whole point of her going out with Vinny was to sound him out about the setting up of Knuckles for the drug container. But there had never been the right moment, because she wanted to discuss it properly, not after a few drinks, and certainly not in pillow talk as they lay in bed. It would have to wait. But it couldn’t wait too long.
She sat back on the sofa and picked up the copy of the plan Marty had given her of the hotel and apartments she had been looking to invest in on the Costa del Sol. It looked fantastic, and she could see that now things were picking up in the Spanish economy, there might just be a future on a big development like this. In the end, they didn’t even have to run the hotel or operate it in any way. They could just use Knuckles’ money to buy the place, the land, build the apartments and then sell them. They could double the money Knuckles had paid out for the drug shipment that he would never receive. In time, without even a single line of coke being sold, they could make a fortune. It would be payback for her brother’s murder, but it would never be enough revenge for killing her mother. That was for another day.
*
Frankie Martin sat in his car, face like flint, as Joe Molloy opened the envelope and handed him the photographs. Kerry, short tight skirt, boots and blouse, looked even sexier in the black and white images. Molloy had photographed her going into the restaurant at half seven, then back out at ten thirty, this time with a guy. He peered closely at the picture. He didn’t think he recognised the man, but from the photos the two of them looked like a couple. Then the penny suddenly dropped. It was that cop who had come to the house just after the funeral to try to get Kerry to talk. He remembered him now. Frankie had been in the kitchen when he saw him coming in, and Danny told him later he was a detective, but that Kerry had sent him packing. Frankie sifted through the rest of the pictures. Well, she hadn’t sent him packing last night. He felt himself blush with resentment as he saw the picture of them kissing, then as they went up the steps to the flat. Molloy had been there when she came out at six in the morning. Fuck me, Frankie cursed to himself. Bitch is fucking a cop. But his face showed nothing, and he turned to thank Molloy and handed him the padded envelope with the cash. Molloy nodded, said nothing, and left the car. Frankie hadn’t known what to expect when he’d decided to have her followed, but he was suspicious when she’d made a couple of trips to One Devonshire over the past few days. He wondered who she was meeting, hoping he’d find more about what she was up to. But he hadn’t expected this. Frankie sat for a couple of minutes, staring out of the windscreen as the rain started to fall. This was it. Fucking Kerry was head of the family, and she was now shagging some detective. This was the kind of shit that could bring them all down. That’s what happened when you put a woman in charge of things. But he knew he had to tread carefully. He couldn’t take the information to Danny and Jack, not right now anyway. He needed to know a bit more about it. Needed to do a bit more fishing. But he would find a way. What Kerry was doing could ruin all of them.
But, deep down, what really brought the red-mist rage was the fact that she was shagging someone and it wasn’t him.
*
Sharon called Jan using their secret code of three rings then hanging up. He was supposed to answer after two rings. He did. Then she rang again, and he answered straight away.
‘So how are things, Jan? Is everything
ready to roll? Anything to report?’
There was a moment’s pause, and Sharon waited, worried.
‘Is everything okay, Jan?’
‘Yes,’ he said quickly. ‘Sorry. I was just lighting a cigarette. Everything is okay as far as I see. But I wanted to tell you that someone was here, yesterday, two men. They were from Knuckles. They wanted to look over the shipment, make sure it was all in order.’
‘Really? I don’t suppose they gave you their names?’
‘No. I don’t know if they came from England or were here in Amsterdam or maybe up from Spain. But they came in, and before they come, I get a call from Knuckles to say some of his team were arriving to check things over, because you were away on business. He didn’t say their names, or where they came from. Just that they’d be here.’
Prick, Sharon thought. Acting as if he had everything in hand. She almost smiled. He would be in for a shock, if all went according to plan.
‘And did it go all right?’
‘Sure. They just wanted to see the stuff was packed away. They opened one little package hidden to make sure, but they know it would be stupid to start opening everything as it would just hold the shipment up as it would need to be repacked by the guys. So they just had the check and kind of walked around, then left. That was it.’
‘And did Knuckles phone you again?’
‘No. Haven’t heard anything. Maybe he’ll call again before we go.’
‘I don’t think so. He never gets involved. He always left everything to me to organise, so that his greedy hands weren’t in the shit.’
‘Yes. I understand.’
‘Okay, Jan. I’ll talk to you once things are on the road. Don’t worry.’
‘I am not worried, Sharon. I never worry.’
She could hear the laid-back tone in his voice, the way he always was. Jan was a quiet, dark, humourless figure, but she had no doubt that he could take care of himself. He hadn’t survived in this business for all these years and not known how to handle himself if things got difficult. But he wasn’t expecting things to get difficult at all on his side of the shipment. By the time the trucks arrived at Knuckles’ warehouse, Jan would be long gone. Sharon pictured the chaos and the panic and allowed herself a small smile. She wished she could be there to see the look on Knuckles’ face when the cops started swarming.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kerry’s mobile rang and she was glad to see Vinny’s name on the screen. There had been a few texts exchanged between them since she slipped out of his flat the other day, but no phone calls. She wasn’t disappointed, because his texts had left her in no doubt that he wanted to see her again. He was busy working, and she was too tied up to get involved in anything more than what it was at the moment. Keep it in perspective. She liked Vinny a lot the more she saw of him, but that was it. She wasn’t even entertaining the notion that they could take this any further. But she needed him to be able to plant the information that would destroy Knuckles Boyle.
‘Vinny,’ Kerry said. ‘How you doing?’
‘Great. Working a lot last night, Kerry. I was going to ask you out for lunch but I’m caught up most of the day.’
Kerry paused for a moment.
‘You don’t have to make excuses to me. Come on. It’s not like that.’
In the silent pause, she could hear Vinny breathe.
‘Yeah? What’s it like then, Kerry?’ he said. ‘Look, I really enjoy being with you. I mean . . . everything about it.’
‘Me too. But you know, let’s just take it easy. There’s no rush here.’
‘Okay. I suppose you’re right. Sorry.’ He paused. ‘But that’s not why I phoned you – even though I did want to hear your voice. There’s another reason I called.’
‘Yeah? You’ve got my undivided attention.’
‘Ideally, I’d meet you to talk about it, but I’ve a lot of stuff to do this for a court case that’s coming up. So I’m snowed under.’
‘Okay. So what’s up?’
‘Well. It’s about the other night. Someone was watching us.’
‘What?’
‘Someone was following our every move. Taking pictures.’
Kerry felt the colour rise in her cheeks.
‘You’re joking, Vinny. What do you mean, taking pictures? How? Where?’
‘You going into the restaurant, the two of us leaving together, then us going into the bar . . . Me kissing you in the street outside. Then us going into my flat.’ He paused. ‘And you leaving early in the morning.’
Kerry’s mind was such a blur that she couldn’t think straight. Nobody apart from the driver knew where she was going, and he wouldn’t have told a soul. So someone was watching her – or were the cops setting her up in some way? She chided herself for being suspicious of Vinny, despite having shared his bed.
‘What the Christ! How do you know this? Are you sure?’
‘As sure as I have the pictures in my hand, Kerry.’
‘Christ almighty! You have the pictures? How?’
‘Well, put it this way. It wouldn’t be the first time some of the people I know did a bit of double dealing. That’s how we get a lot of our information.’
‘What do you mean? Someone from my organisation gave you pictures?’
‘No. The pictures came from the guy who was hired to take them. As it happens, he does a bit of snitching for us. I mean, he probably wouldn’t have let us know about it if it hadn’t been me who was with you. I’ve known the bloke for a long time.’
Kerry was confused.
‘Hold on, Vinny, I’m lost here! Tell me what you mean.’
‘Well. Here’s the sketch. This guy was hired to take pictures of you, see who you were with, basically follow you the other night and report back. That was all. But when it turned out you were with me, then things changed. The guy knows me, and his loyalties are firmly with me and with us, the police, because we’ve looked after him over the years. He came to me with the pictures because I’m in them.’
It was beginning to sink in now.
‘Jesus! So who hired him?’
The silence seemed to go on for ever, then Vinny spoke.
‘You’re not going to like this, Kerry.’
‘Tell me!’
‘Frankie Martin. He hired him.’
The red mist rising in her head almost made the room swim, and Kerry couldn’t speak. Frankie Martin. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised – she’d suspected he was a weasel from day one. He always had another agenda, and she’d asked Danny to keep an eye on him. But this was treachery.
‘You okay, Kerry?’
‘Yes. I’m fine. Can I see the pictures?’
‘Sure. I’ll give you a shout later and arrange for them to be delivered to you. It won’t be by me, but you’ll get them.’
‘Vinny,’ Kerry said, ‘I wanted to talk to you about another matter. But not on the phone.’
‘That’s okay. We can do that. Look, Kerry, I don’t give a fuck if Frankie Martin wants to come and take pictures of me and you every day. But I care about what it means to you. I mean, it’s no problem for people in your position to be seen with coppers – it’s always been the case, and I’ve drunk with plenty of total hoodlums over the years – but this is different. This bastard is doing it for a reason. It’s not me he wants to get at, but he’s trying to do something to you. And you have to deal with it. But it won’t stop me seeing you. I’m dying to see you, and that’s the truth.’
Kerry felt relief in there somewhere, amid all the anger and confusion.
‘Okay. I’m glad of that, Vinny. And thanks. Look, give me a call later tonight and maybe we can meet tomorrow. But let me know where you can get the pictures to me as soon as possible. Is that okay?’
‘Sure. I’ll arrange for them to be dropped this afternoon. I’ll call you.’
‘Thanks.’ She hung up.
*
By the time Danny and Jack arrived at the house, Kerry had gone through the full
gamut of emotions. She’d gone into town in the afternoon to the café where Vinny had told her to go, and, good as his word, a young man came in, sat opposite her and waited for the nod. He handed her the photographs, and she finished her coffee and went straight out. She couldn’t wait to get home to open the envelope. And when she did, she had to sit down as it dawned on her how serious this was, and how much effort had gone into following her around. At first she was shocked and confused when Vinny told her Frankie had been spying on her. Then it was rage. This bastard was more or less taken in by her mother after his own ma died and his father buggered off. He was treated like one of the family by her dad and by Mickey, and this was how he repaid them. It was Frankie who set up Mickey to be executed by Knuckles’ mob, and it was because of his recklessness, getting Knuckles to send his thugs up to the funeral, that her poor mum got caught in the crossfire. All of this was why Kerry was here right now, in this house, attempting to run the show, often out of her depth, often wishing she was thousands of miles away. If none of this had happened, she’d have been back in London, or in Spain, or perhaps taking that job she’d been offered in Brussels, working with a corporate law firm. But here she was, wheeling and dealing, thinking like a criminal to keep her empire going. And she would. No matter what bastards like Frankie Martin did to try and destroy her. Because despite the constant conflict of emotions, she felt she was growing into her role here, and she couldn’t stop herself. In a moment of paranoia she’d even thought twice about phoning Danny and Jack. What if they had been in on it? What if this was all part of a coup to get rid of her? The thought tore the heart out of her, and she knew, deep down, neither Danny nor Jack would betray her like that. She’d have seen it in their eyes before now. Yet she hadn’t seen it coming from Frankie on this scale. She knew he was working behind her back. But this? No. This was unforgivable.
‘Sit down, guys,’ she said. ‘Drink?’ She motioned them to the table at the other end of the room with decanters and bottles. ‘You might need one for this.’