by Anna Smith
‘I know that. But if the police know that, then why haven’t they arrested someone?’ She knew that he thought the Caseys had already taken their revenge, but she threw it in anyway.
He played it deadpan. ‘You know how that goes, Kerry. We need evidence. Bodies. People to talk.’
‘I can help you with that. So, with my help, you get Knuckles and his mob on two counts – murder and smuggling. And I mean the full bhuna on the smuggling. I can get you documents, papers, transactions – everything over a number of years.’
He sat back for a moment and clasped his hands together on the table, scanning her face.
‘You’re serious, aren’t you? You think you can get all this?’
‘It’ll be what it is. I don’t know anything about his smuggling racket. But I know someone who does, and all the paperwork is there to be looked at. Well, not paperwork – digitally stored. Enough to put him away for a long time.’
‘You know someone . . .’ His lip curled in a wry smile. ‘That someone can only be Sharon, his woman. She’s done a runner. We’ve long suspected, well, our boys down south have, that she is the brains behind moving the money – but it’s always been watertight.’
‘What would happen to her if she got caught?’
He looked at her, surprised. ‘What do you think? She’d be gone for a long time. But if she got caught, she wouldn’t last till the court case. Knuckles has everyone looking for her, and will get her done in. In fact, word is that’s why she did a runner. He was sending her to her death with two of his trusted henchmen, when the bold Sharon took them both out.’ He shook his head. ‘She’s some piece of work, and I haven’t even met her. But good on her for fighting her way out of her own execution.’
‘What if she could provide all the information you need? How would that affect her? Would she be given immunity from prosecution?’
Vinny ran his hand across his chin.
‘Jesus, Kerry. Are you her lawyer? Pleading for her freedom? She’s in deep shit whatever she does.’
‘But if she gives the cops stuff that dismantles his organisation and nails him and others, surely she has to be given some sort of deal. Or does that just happen in the movies?’
‘No. It happens. It’s possible. All sorts of things are on the table for discussion when someone turns and gives us information that can put bastards like Boyle away. So the answer is we would have to see what she has.’
Kerry waited for a moment, wondering what he was going to ask next. He brushed her hand with his and smiled.
‘So. When can I meet this Sharon?’
‘One thing at a time, detective.’
Her mobile rang. It was Danny. She looked at Vinny as she took the call and listened, hoping her face showed nothing as Danny told her that Frankie had been to them with the photographs.
‘I need to be out of here, Vinny. I want to work with you on this. For all the reasons you talked about. But one thing has to be guaranteed.’
Vinny blinked as though he knew what was coming, but didn’t reply.
Kerry looked him in the eye.
‘Sharon gets protected. Whatever it takes.’
She stood up.
‘I need to move. Call me.’
‘Wait. When will I know what’s going on?’
‘I’ll let you know. I promise. I’ll make this happen. But you have to make the guarantee.’
He stood up, putting down some coins for their coffees and they walked towards the door together and outside. Kerry waved to the driver across the street.
‘I’ll talk to some people,’ he said. ‘See how we can work this.’
She turned and left, knowing he was still watching her as she got into the car and sped off.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Knuckles was so stunned as he listened to Frankie Martin on the phone that he actually felt dizzy. He had to grip the wall for a second while he steadied himself.
‘Hold it a fucking minute, Frankie. Just hold it. I need to sit down here.’ He walked out of his office and sat on the sofa in his living room. ‘Okay. Start again.’
‘You all right, mate?’
‘I’m fine. Start again, for fuck’s sake!’
‘Right. Your Sharon. She’s in Glasgow. I’ve seen her myself.’
‘What do you mean, you’ve seen her? Where? How? You’ve talked to her? When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Yesterday? And you’re only phoning me now, you Jock cunt! Why didn’t you phone me immediately?’
Knuckles gnawed the inside of his jaw as he waited for Frankie’s response. You couldn’t trust this rat’s bastard as far as you could throw him. If Frankie really did see Sharon, then the fucker had spent the last twenty-four hours working out how to make the information benefit himself.
‘Well . . .’ Frankie hesitated. ‘The truth is, Knuckles, I wanted to work out if I could find a way to get to her. Maybe even deliver her to you. But it’s going to be really hard. That hotel is small, and it’s used to accommodating rock stars and movie people when they visit Glasgow, so the security is very tight. I don’t imagine she’ll be booked in under her own name, but whatever, I didn’t want to make any enquiries at the hotel that might make her suspicious and run. You know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, right,’ Knuckles said, not believing him. ‘You should still have told me. It’s my shit, man, so I should have been told so I can make the decisions. Tell me what you saw.’
‘Well,’ Frankie said, ‘you won’t want to hear this, but what I saw before I saw Sharon was that bitch Kerry Casey going into the hotel. I’ve been watching Kerry for the past few days – you know my view of her. She’s just wrong. But that’s another story. Thing is, I’ve seen her going in and out of the hotel twice in about a week. I thought she was meeting some bloke for a shag or something.’
‘You think she was meeting Sharon?’
‘It’s a small hotel. Too much of a coincidence for Kerry Casey to be going there to meet anyone else. I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s doing. So Kerry is up to something.’
‘Yeah. Fucking me right up the arse, no doubt, talking to that bitch who has already robbed me blind, the cunt.’
‘What do you mean, robbed you, Knuckles?’
‘None of your concern. All I’m saying is she’s been helping herself to my money – a lot of my fucking money. Anyway, forget that. How did you see her? You didn’t go in, did you?’
‘No. Course not. I was sitting in my car and just thought I’d wait and have a fag after Kerry left, then I just about shat myself when the door opened and Sharon appeared.’
‘Christ! You’re sure it was her?’
‘Absolutely no doubt. Sure, I’ve met her a few times – you know that. We all had dinner in Puerto Banus that night with Mickey. Then I met her twice in Manchester with you. I don’t make mistakes like that. She’s quite a striking-looking woman.’
‘Yeah, was. But fuck her. Look, I need to get my people to Glasgow. In fact I might even come myself and surprise her. Is there anything you can do up there to find out what’s going on with her and that Kerry nutter? There must be some way. I mean, you’re at the heart of everything, aren’t you?’
‘Not the same as I was, Knuckles. Not since Kerry took over. She’s a bit of a headcase. I think she wants me out.’
‘Hmm. Maybe she’s figured out you got her brother bumped off,’ he said, sarcastic. ‘And it was your idea to send a message at the funeral.’
‘Aw, hold on, Knuckles! The funeral was your idea, if you remember. I just said it wouldn’t do any harm to send a message – I didn’t mean for your fucking idiot boys to go up there and start spraying the fucking wake with bullets. That’s down to your mob, not mine.’
‘Don’t get fucking lippy with me, Frankie. If you and I are going to work together, you don’t give me any shit, okay? Now listen. I’m not going to fuck this up this time with Sharon. If she’s in a hotel in Glasgow, she’ll think that’s the last place I’ll look
for her. But the fact that she’s talking to Kerry Casey could mean all sorts of shit might be coming my way. I need to get to her pronto before she starts to do any damage – if she’s not already done it.’
‘Of course.’
‘Right, you must know something. What do you think Sharon is cooking up with Kerry? Give me something to think about, for fuck’s sake.’
Knuckles waited for a response, gazing through the massive patio glass doors that ran the length of his house and into his manicured garden in the driving rain. An image flashed up to him of lunches at the big stone table out there with Sharon and their son when he was around five or six and life was good. He’d been on the up then, beginning to make serious money through his drug shipments, building his empire in Manchester. He didn’t even consider how it had come to this – don’t even go there, he told himself. You are where you are, and the woman you fucking gave a movie-star lifestyle to is now working to fuck you up. That’s all that matters now.
‘I don’t know, Knuckles. If I did I would tell you. I’m a bit squeezed out of things these days, so it’s hard for me to get anything solid. But I’ll see what I can do and come back to you.’
‘Listen, Frankie. I don’t have a lot of time for this. If I know Sharon, she’ll be making plans to fuck right off as far away as she can – and with a shedload of my money. I want to be up there and deal with her right now.’
‘I understand that. But you can’t just go in there and bump her off.’
‘I can put a fucking bomb in the hotel is what I can do. Blow her to fucking smithereens.’
‘You don’t want to do that until you see what she’s been up to, do you?’
‘Maybe not. But I don’t have time on my hands. And I’ve got a lot on the go down here. I’ve got a big shipment about to arrive in the next couple of days so I need to be here to oversee it. Listen, mate. You come up with ideas on how to smoke her out, and you’ll be well rewarded – you hear what I’m saying? Those fucking Casey cunts are finished. I’m going to be running the show from here once I get everything sorted. That’s always been the plan. That’s why Mickey had to go. You know that. You’ll be top dog once we get this organised.’
‘Sure, mate. I know. I’ll do my best.’
‘You’ll need to do better than that.’
Knuckles hung up and tossed the phone across the sofa. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face vigorously. Christ almighty! If you didn’t do a fucking thing yourself it didn’t get done. That had always been the way. The phone rang and he picked it up, and heard his son’s voice.
‘Hi, Dad. How’re things?’
Knuckles had an idea.
*
Frankie opened the wall safe in his flat where he kept a stash of hard cash in case the time came when he had to run. That time had come. He took out around twenty grand and stuffed it into a small rucksack. He’d decided after his phone call to Knuckles that there was no way back for him. The Caseys were going nowhere in the grand scheme of things, and he was getting out before that bitch Kerry and her lapdogs became a laughing stock among the various crews from Glasgow to London and Dublin. He would do what Knuckles had asked – he’d deliver Sharon to him. And by doing that, he’d stride into Knuckles’ backyard as top dog. None of the thick fucks in his mob would mess with him.
He’d spent the day planning and preparing, and he’d known early on he’d have to bring in Joey Tarditti to make it happen. Joey was known as the Fireman, for his unique ability to burn down buildings and premises and leave no trace that it was anything other than an accident. If you needed your garage, restaurant, nightclub or even your house to go up in smoke so you could claim the insurance, Joey was your man. Over the decades, he’d been used by everyone from gangsters to hoteliers who needed a good insurance job. Frankie was lucky that he was in town this week for his grandson’s christening. They’d met in a bar in Byres Road earlier that day, and Frankie filled Joey in on the job at One Devonshire Gardens. He told him he didn’t want the hotel burned down, but enough of a fire to cause maximum chaos and make sure all the guests got evacuated. He even confided in him that he was looking for one guest in particular, and Frankie’s intention was to kidnap her. Joey didn’t ask any questions apart from when he wanted it done. Tonight, Frankie told him. Joey left with five grand in his jacket pocket and the promise of another five after it was done.
Now all Frankie had to do was wait. He’d hired a van and stocked it with some simple snack food and water for the journey south. Everything was ready. He looked around his flat one last time and out of the window at the lights of the city twinkling as far as the eye could see. He would probably never see this again. Not that he gave a fuck. There was nothing here for him any more. The only family he’d ever really had were the Caseys, and they didn’t want him any more. He tightened his lips. Fuck them! It would be their loss. He crossed the room to the front door and headed out into the night.
*
‘Where are you exactly?’
Joey’s voice was almost a whisper as Frankie pressed the phone to his ear.
‘I’m directly behind the hotel – where you said I should be. Grey Mercedes van. Where are you?’
Frankie peered out of the windscreen. The street was busy with parked cars, mostly of residents in the nearby flats.
‘I see you. I’m across the street to your left and about thirty yards away.’
‘Great. So what happens next?’
‘In about five minutes I’ll detonate the device and the fire will start. I’ve planted it just inside the back door of the kitchen where they come out to put crap in the bins or for a fly smoke. I managed to do it earlier on while they were busy with meals and stuff. Quite easy really. It’s a fairly simple device. It’ll ignite and set fire to the nearest material.’
‘I don’t want the place burning down, Joey, or anyone injured.’
‘Don’t worry, man. The smoke detectors will see to that. Place will be evacuated before the fire brigade even get here.’
‘Okay. This is where it gets a bit tricky, mate,’ Frankie said. ‘I was thinking after you left that it might be hard for me to be the one to get this bird out of the place once all the guests get evacuated. She knows me. I’ve met her a few times. I don’t want her to start making a scene if she suspects something. So I was thinking of asking you to do it.’
Frankie waited as the line went silent.
‘That’s not part of the contract, Frankie. I light fires. That’s what I do. Kidnapping is different.’
‘I’ll pay you more.’
Again with the silence.
‘It’ll cost you another three on top of the five. But all I’ll do is bring her to you. Then I’m fucking off. You got that?’
‘Yep. That’s good by me. I’ve got the dosh here for you. Have you got a weapon?’
‘Of course. But I’m not fucking shooting anyone.’
‘No. I don’t mean that. Just in case. I want you to go up to this woman and say to her that Kerry sent you, and she’s to come with you, that it’s not safe here any more. Say to her that Kerry is waiting for her.’
Silence.
‘Are we talking Kerry Casey, Frankie? You doing over Kerry Casey? The Caseys? Fuck me, man. That’s big stuff.’
‘Joey. Listen, mate. I don’t want to have to explain all this to you. Believe me, you’ll see in the next few months how this all goes down, and that I’m right.’
He heard Joey sigh and for a moment he thought he was going to abandon the job. He knew Joey Tarditti had been thick years ago with Danny and Tim Casey, but as Joey lived abroad most of the time, nobody really got to see him these days. He hoped he didn’t feel any dumb sense of fucking loyalty to Danny, or to Tim’s daughter. Joey was knocking on a bit, and he might not be in such big demand as the old days, so he was banking on him needing the money enough to agree.
‘Look, I’m not asking questions. I’ve done the job, and I’ll do what you ask. Then you won’t see me again. You
understand that?’
‘Course.’
‘Okay. Two minutes to go, then I’ll go up there, bring her to you. But no rough stuff. I don’t rough up women.’
‘Of course. But if she protests, then stick your gun at her back. She’ll know the score. She’s not daft enough to do a runner.’
As Frankie said it, he pictured Sharon shooting her two would-be assassins in the back road to Manchester airport that day and leaving them for dead while she legged it. He braced himself for a bit of a scrap.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sharon’s mobile rang and she recognised the number as Tony’s secret phone that Kerry had squirrelled down to his school.
‘Tony, sweetheart. How you doing, darling?’
‘I’m all right, Mum. Just the usual. Not doing much tonight. I thought you were coming down some time. You said . . .’
‘I know, pet. I was hoping to come this week, but things are, well, you know how I said to you . . . a bit difficult.’
Sharon sensed by the silence at the other end that something was troubling her son, and her heart ached to be with him. Tony had long given up trying to be a tough guy around his dad, because he just looked inept, but he was a resilient young lad without being a thug. Deep down, though, he was still a boy who wanted to sit down on the sofa with his mam and a pizza and watch television. She missed that quality time with him, and had hated sending him to private school, but it was the only way to get him away from the influence of Knuckles and the mob of hoodlums surrounding him.
‘Are you all right, sweetheart? You sound a bit down.’
‘Well, I am a bit. It’s half-term next week, and I was hoping you’d come down and get me.’
Sharon felt the wrench in her gut. In all this mayhem, she’d completely forgotten about half-term, when Tony would come home, or they would fly off to the villa in Spain. Christ! She missed him so much.
‘Oh, I know, Tony, but we’ll work something out . . . I—’