by KERRY BARNES
Zara smiled. ‘Yeah, the Lanigans do now. They bought my father out before he died. So, why are you so sure it’s this Hadlow gang then?’ she asked, changing the subject.
The driver was quiet for a few moments, and then he pointed across the street to a fried chicken shop. ‘See that there? My old mate owned that. Now, I ain’t saying he was as straight as a die, but that Lennon and his mob terrorized my pal, made him a nervous wreck, so he just handed over the business and buggered off down to Margate. And I know they don’t just serve chicken wings. They’re dealing that Flakka shit.’
The conversation stopped as both the driver and Zara were contemplating the situation. She yawned so widely, she almost broke her jaw and leaned back against the comfort of the cushioned seat.
The driver glanced in the mirror: the woman seemed miles away. At that moment, a text came through on his phone. The Old Bill are looking for a woman with one hand missing. At first, he thought it was the start of a joke until he realized that it must be Izzy Ezra’s daughter who awkwardly got into the back. He looked again and traced her sleeve down to nothing. Yes, she was the daughter of a well-respected villain. He was in no doubt now that she killed the gang member, especially if she was anything like her father.
Just up ahead, there was a police stop-and-search. Victor watched as the police checked every car. He couldn’t turn around and go back now.
‘Listen, love, the police are searching up the road from us. Do yaself a favour. Cover yaself with that bag of yours and pretend you’re asleep.’
His tone was not as jovial as before. He was stern. Without thinking for herself, she did as she was told and closed her eyes. But although she looked asleep, she was far from relaxed. She heard the officer as he leaned into the taxi driver’s window. ‘Where have you just come from?’
‘King’s College Hospital, mate. Me punter’s just had an op, so she can’t drive.’
‘Okay, on ya way.’
As soon as they were hammering along to the end of the Old Kent Road, Zara sat up straight. ‘What was that all about?’
‘Me name’s Victor. Your father sorted my boy out many moons ago, and I never did get to return the favour. I’ve just got a text. The Filth are looking for a woman who fits your description. Me, I don’t care either way if ya did kill that bastard, but, nevertheless, I want to get you home safe and sound.’
‘Look, thanks, Victor. I ain’t gonna blag an excuse. I did fucking kill him. He tried to mug me, and he had a knife.’
Victor’s eyes widened. ‘Well, he’s dead, and I’m glad it wasn’t the other way around. Anyway, I’ll give you me card, and if you ever need me, you just call, babe.’
Zara knew then she was as safe as houses if Victor was paying back a debt. Not only that, he had so much respect for her father that he was prepared to break the law to help her. For the rest of the journey, Zara bled him dry of everything he knew about this Hadlow gang and the drug, Flakka, safe in the knowledge that the man was more than happy to help her. Again, she thought about her father; he would always tell her that respect meant more than money, and today, she knew he was right.
‘Being a taxi driver, I guess it means you get to hear a lot of what goes on around the streets?’
‘It’s almost like you take an oath of silence, once you get behind the wheel. Punters chat away to each other as if you’re deaf, like they know you won’t repeat anything . . . ’ He laughed. ‘I even got to know the ins and outs of a robbery two days before it took place. I never said nuffin, o’ course.’
The openness of the man, comfortable in her company, made her warm to him. ‘Victor, can I ask a favour? I will pay you well.’
Victor raised his thick bushy eyebrows. ‘What’s that then, darling?’
‘This gang. Can you keep your ears open? I wanna know what they’re up to.’
As Victor drove along the long winding drive up to her house, he was silent, contemplating. Not receiving a response, Zara didn’t ask again. She wondered if she’d overstepped the mark.
He jumped out and opened the door for her. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Zara nodded. ‘Of course, Victor.’
‘This Irish firm, the Lanigans. Are they working for you?’
Zara looked into his eyes, searching for a sign that he was entirely trustworthy. What peered back was a genuine expression.
‘Yes, Victor, they’re working with me. They always have. They don’t own the businesses, I do, but we work together, and I’m not about to sit back and allow a bunch of druggies to take down my father’s good name.’
Victor relaxed his shoulders and a soft expression almost made his face melt. ‘Well, darling, I’ll be honest with you. Your father wasn’t just an acquaintance, he was a close pal of mine. I worked for him for twenty years, but I got shot in the leg and wasn’t much use after that, so I bought a taxi, learned the Knowledge, and retired. So, will I keep an ear out? Damn right, I will. And I’ll do more than that, if you want. I thought the world of your old man. He did sort my son out and I never did get the chance to pay him back.’
Zara noticed his eyes staring off to nothing. ‘Come in, if you have time. Why don’t you share a coffee with me?’
Victor watched her unlock the front door and followed her inside. He gazed around and shook his head. ‘Well, it ain’t changed a bleedin’ bit.’ Then he turned to Zara. ‘But, as much as your old man loved his antiques and period houses, he wouldn’t want you to live like this, dust an’ all.’
Lowering her gaze, she sighed heavily. ‘You really did know my father well, didn’t you? It’s a shame I never met you before.’
Victor smiled. ‘You did, when you were a nipper. But, you know, your father kept me away from most people. His secret pal, he called me. I do miss the ol’ fella. Aah well, life moves on, I suppose.’
‘I think since you knew my dad so well, I feel the need to tell you what’s been going on.’
Over coffee they sat in the office and chatted for an hour. Zara filled him in on what had happened after her father died. About how she was locked away in the basement of this huge mansion by her own brother – and the details of how she’d lost her hand and where she was now regarding the business, and particularly the recent events concerning her restaurants and the attack on Neil.
She leaned back on her father’s chair and tilted her head to the side. ‘It feels so good to go over the past. I miss my dad and listening to you talk about what you both got up to fills me with meaning. I’ll carry on and fight to get back what was his.’
‘Ya know, darling, listening to you reminds me so much of the old fella. He was right to have you take over. Now, I’m not a young and fit lad anymore but I ain’t past it either, so if you need me, girl, I’m ’ere, by your side. Besides, I’m getting a bit bored ferrying people about.’
‘Right, then. I’m gonna put you on my books, starting today. Give me your bank details. The first job is a trip to Margate. Can you find out everything about this gang from your mate who owns that fried chicken shop?’
Victor’s eyes lit up. ‘Yep, Gov.’ He winked. ‘Just a word though, sweetheart. You trusted me a little too soon. I’d be careful who you trust.’
Zara laughed. ‘Oh, Victor, believe me, I’m not silly. The reason I trust you is because I know my father must have been friends with you since only his closest buddies ever came to the house.’
Just as Victor was about to depart, a loud knock at the door caused him to look at her sharply. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’
‘No, and I need to get the CCTV up and running again. I can’t see beyond that bloody oak door.’
She headed down the passageway with Victor hard on her heels.
‘Who is it?’ she demanded, in her firmest voice.
‘Eric!’
‘It’s okay, Victor. It’s Eric, my fiancé’s brother . . . ’ She almost choked on the word ‘fiancé’.
Victor nodded. ‘I’ll be gone, then. I’ll call tomorrow and take a look at
those cameras for you.’ With that, he kissed her cheek. ‘I’m so glad I got to meet you. Must ’ave been fate.’
Pulling the door open, Zara noticed that Eric’s eyes instantly shifted to Victor and then back to her.
Ignoring his questioning glance, she said goodbye to Victor and waited for him to reach his taxi before she turned to face Eric.
‘What are you doing here?’
He looked a touch uncomfortable because, in truth, he didn’t have a reason. ‘I just wanted to be sure you got back okay. You said you felt sick. Are you all right?’
She nodded, but she was distracted by Victor. When he’d left, he had a concerned look on his face.
Then her phone rang, which she’d left in the office. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Eric, as she hurried back along the passageway. Luckily, she managed to reach the phone in time before it rang off. ‘Hi, is everything all right?’
‘Yes, Neil’s having his ears chewed off by his mother, so I thought I’d slip away. I was hoping I could hold a meeting at yours. The men are on their way. They should get to London around nine o’clock tonight,’ replied Davey.
‘Yeah, of course. You have my father’s address. Just come over.’
No sooner had she finished the call than Eric was behind her. ‘Are you having guests over?’
Zara frowned, reluctant to elaborate. His comments in the car had her nerves rattled as it was, and right now, she didn’t feel comfortable with him in the house. ‘Yeah, it’s a friend of mine. Look, Eric, I can understand that you may feel the need to check up on me . . . for your brother, but I am perfectly fine, and to be blunt, I think your fussing is almost undermining me. I want time alone, so if you don’t mind?’ She gestured to the hallway.
He didn’t move but looked her up and down. ‘I didn’t come to find out if you were okay for Mike. I wanted to make sure for myself.’
Feeling self-conscious, she recoiled. ‘Eric, I think it’s best you go.’
Unexpectedly, he ran his hands down her cheek. ‘I care about you, Zara. I always have done. I know you love my brother, but—’
The strange ambience caused Zara to make a sharp interruption. ‘Enough, Eric. I really don’t want to hear it. Mike is your brother . . . my . . . Well, anyway, I want you to leave.’
‘Wake up, Zara. Mike may be my brother, but I do know him for what he is. Look at the party. It was me looking out for you while Mike was showing off. I know you’ve doubts about him or you wouldn’t have let me . . . ’
Zara took a deep intake of breath. ‘That was because . . . Oh, it doesn’t matter now, it was just a mistake. I’m sorry.’ Her eyes looked to the floor in shame.
He gently placed a hand under her chin and lifted it. ‘Hey, come on, Zara, it’s okay. I probably took advantage. Anyway, I’m sorry, love.’
Those sweet words, the gentleness in his voice, and the slow blink, sent her feelings into a spin again. Somewhere in her subconscious, she had the urge for attention. She was still a woman with needs.
Eric sensed her guard was down. He cupped her face like before. ‘You’re beautiful, d’ya know that?’
No, she didn’t know it, but to hear those words somehow sucked her into a vacuum, ripping away her barriers.
She didn’t pull away, and for a moment, she wanted more, just to hold that feeling of being special, loved, and adored.
He leaned forward to kiss her lips, but the second they touched, she jerked away and glared, surprised at herself for being so weak. A surge of anger followed. Frustrated with her lack of self-control and Eric’s ability to play on her emotions, she snapped at him.
‘Stop it, Eric. This is wrong . . . ’ She paused and stiffened. ‘Mike may have been having fun, but it doesn’t make him bad. Right now, I couldn’t give a fucking shit. I want to be left alone, so whether you’re here on Mike’s behalf or your own, take note. I’m more than capable of looking out for myself. So, now, please, leave me in peace.’
She barged past him and stood to hold the door open.
Red-faced and frustrated, Eric left and stomped off like a spoiled child towards his car.
Zara then slammed the door closed, folded her arms, and held herself, as she took a deep breath. What was he thinking, and, more worryingly, what the hell was that all about? Gripping the phone in her hand, she contemplated calling Mike. But then the vision of that woman lying half-naked in the same room as him focused her mind. Shocked by her own emotional state and the image of that woman, she shook her head and lit up a cigarette.
***
By nightfall, Zara was exhausted, and her eyelids were heavy; yet she had to stay awake and prepare herself for the meeting. She needed to clear her head of emotional crap, so that she could focus on her priorities and act in control; she couldn’t have Davey’s men seeing her as weak, like Eric obviously did.
After spending a few minutes freshening up, she waited, going over in her mind everything she’d learned from Victor.
Just before nine o’clock, she heard a diesel car pull up outside the door. She cursed with frustration, not being able to see who it was. But to her astonishment, the knock was followed by a recognizable voice.
‘Zara, sweetheart, it’s me, Victor.’
Usually, her hackles would have been raised at being called ‘sweetheart’, but somehow it seemed comforting coming from him, the stranger she’d met in a taxi. How bizarre that was.
She opened the door, looked around, and ushered him in. ‘That was quick, Victor.’
His expression looked flustered and yet serious. ‘Are you alone, love?’
She nodded. ‘Why, Victor? What’s up?’
He gulped, and his large Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. ‘I didn’t go to Margate.’
She tilted her head to the side, questioningly.
‘That fella Eric, or whoever he’s called, I thought I’d seen him before, but I wasn’t 100 per cent. Me ol’ mince pies ain’t what they used to be, but there was something about the way he held himself. Anyway, I guess after this morning, and you saying you’d put me on your books, I got all excited. I know I’m a silly old fucker, but, anyway, I parked up while he was at your place and then I followed him into London. I’m known for using me ol’ watch and chain, ya see.’
Zara listened, her heart thumping as if she was facing a herd of elephants charging across the savanna towards her.
‘You do own Antonio’s, yeah?’
She nodded, urging him to go on.
‘Well, that Eric bloke pulled up outside and stared through the window. He looked around him like he was up to no good, and then, I thought he was reading the opening times. Anyway, once he drove off, I got out and had a look myself. I know Antonio. He always has the restaurant open, but it’s locked up now and there’s a note inside the door that says it’s closed due to staff sickness, but it will be open this coming Saturday. Now, if this Eric fancied a bit of Italian, there are plenty of good restaurants in Kent. So, why did he drive all the way back over to London?’
Her face paled, and Victor could see she was shaken up.
‘What is it, love?’
Her mind was off somewhere to a dark place. She sighed, making a sound through her mouth. ‘My dad always said, “Fuck your friends but keep your enemies closer”.’
Victor grinned. ‘Yep, ol’ Izzy had some great sayings. That was one of his favourites. Ya know, love, Izzy’s riddles always made sense.’
‘Eric either has information about my business or something so much worse. I’m beginning to get worrying vibes coming off him. I think he’s the person trying to destroy me. But why? Why would he do that? I’ve never done anything to harm him except . . . ’ She bit her lip to stop it from quivering.
‘I get it, love. What a man can’t have, he’ll destroy. It was another one of your dad’s phrases.’
She looked up, with her face slowly crumbling. ‘After what I’ve been through, how cruel could he be? Surely to God, he wouldn’t do that to me, would he?’
‘Jealousy is a compelling and destructive emotion, love.’
Misty-eyed, she chuckled. ‘That was another one of Izzy’s sayings, wasn’t it?’
‘No, that’s one of me own.’ Unexpectedly, he placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘If it’s any consolation, you’ve got me to help ya. I know they’re just words, but you can trust me. Izzy would be watching me, and I know he mates with the Devil.’
The meaty arm resting gently on her shoulders was like a comfort blanket, and she knew that he meant every word.
‘Victor, I’ve a meeting in about ten minutes with the Lanigan firm.’
‘Oh, okay, sweetheart. I’ll leave you in peace, then. I just thought you should know, that’s all.’
‘No, please would you stay? I think you may be able to help us. When I say the Lanigan firm, they’re my men too. Some of them, however, I have yet to meet myself.’
Victor winked. ‘You bet ya. I’ll be straight up with ya. I need to earn me money.’
‘Do you not have a wife you go home to?’
A pang of sadness swept across his face. He paused before he could speak. Clearing the choke in his throat, he replied, ‘She died, two years ago. She was my little duchess, a real little love, she was. Married to her for thirty years, good ’uns an’ all . . . ’ He swallowed hard. ‘She was mugged and left beaten in the street. By the time the ambulance had got to her, she was unconscious. I sat by her bed until she passed away. The fucking saddest day of my life, that was.’
‘Oh no, I’m so, so sorry.’
Watching his face, she saw the sadness turn to anger, and she knew he was a man determined to seek retribution.
‘So now ya know, Zara, why I’m more than happy to help you. Ya see, that fucking gang killed her.’
Zara’s hand flew to her mouth, in horror.
‘I don’t have the backing to hunt them down, Zara. But if you’re gonna take them out of the picture, ’cos I’m surmising that you ain’t gonna back down and allow those scumbags to take what’s yours, then I’m with ya, all the way. But I know those gangs and all this drug business ain’t organized by the likes of that Lennon arsehole. This is being carefully orchestrated by someone with a lot of clout, not a load of skanky kids, trying to score a few quid to get their fix.’