by Kerry Kaya
* * *
“So, what was all that about?”
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “What?”
“You know full well what.” Coming to an abrupt halt, Fletch stood in front of his brother, blocking his path. “What did Billy want with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Spence,” Fletch warned.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “He’s got a job for me.”
“A job?” There was a hint of surprise in Fletch’s voice. “What sort of job?”
“Just a job.”
Fletch was thoughtful. Since when had Billy King started delegating lone jobs out to Spencer? He looked across the driveway toward Billy’s house. He was in half a mind to have it out with his boss and find out what was going on.
“It’s just a job, Fletch.” Spencer broke his thoughts. “He wants me to follow someone, that’s all.”
“Follow someone … follow who?” Fletch demanded to know.
“I dunno yet.” As Spencer made his way across the paved driveway toward his brother’s car, the promise he’d made Billy to not tell anyone about the plan they had made, even his own brother, was still fresh in his mind.
Still deep in thought, Fletch turned to look at his best friend. “What do you reckon?”
Stevie shrugged his shoulders. They all knew just how protective Fletch was when it came to his younger brother. “He’s only following someone, it’s nothing too heavy, is it?”
“Nah, I suppose not.” Fletch gave the house one final glance before unlocking his car door. He still didn’t like it and he had a feeling there was a lot more to it than just Spencer following someone around. There and then, he made the decision to keep a closer eye on his brother. “Jump in,” he told them. “I’ll drop you both back home, then I have to shoot off. I’ve got some business of my own to take care of.”
* * *
Susan King climbed out of the silver Mercedes, closed the door gently behind her, and gave the driver, Joseph Hatton, a wide smile. He didn’t return her smile, and after inwardly shuddering, she crossed over the street and made her way toward the small village corner shop.
She didn’t need to buy much. More than anything, the shopping trip was just an excuse for her to get out of the house for a while. As beautiful as her home was, and it truly was beautiful, she couldn’t help but feel suffocated by it. She needed to breathe some fresh air into her lungs, and her shopping trips gave her the perfect excuse to do just that.
She pushed open the shop door, smiled a greeting toward the proprietor, then made her way down the aisles.
* * *
Even though he knew he was playing a dangerous game, Fletch was unable to stop himself. He’d heard Joseph complaining many a time that he was sick and tired of driving Susan around. He wasn’t a gofer, he complained bitterly to anyone who would listen.
Walking the aisles, Fletch pretended to be looking for something. He’d heard the little bell above the shop door ring as it indicated someone was entering the premises, and feeling his body stiffen, he kept his head down even lower. From the corner of his eye, he spotted her and as she neared closer, he straightened up, closed his eyes briefly, then turned around. A mock surprised expression was etched across his face.
“Hey,” he smiled. “Fancy bumping into you here.”
Susan frowned, then broke into a smile. “Fletcher?” she enquired, tilting her head to one side as she looked up at him.
“Fletch,” he corrected her.
“Of course.” Her smile grew wilder. “What are you doing here?”
Taking a sneaky glance toward Billy’s Mercedes parked outside, Fletch shrugged his shoulders. “Just grabbing a couple of things. How about you?” Even as he said the words, he knew how stupid he sounded.
Susan laughed. “What I meant was, I didn’t know that you lived here in the village.”
“I don’t.” Fletch shook his head. “I was passing through.” They both knew it was a lie and as his cheeks flushed pink, he averted his eyes. After an age, he cleared his throat and glanced once more toward the car. “I see you’ve got Joseph driving you around.”
Susan followed his gaze. “Yes,” she answered, raising her eyebrows.
“Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”
“No, not really,” she laughed.
“You know, maybe,” he said, leaning in closer and breathing in her scent, “you should ask Billy to let me drive you around.”
Her eyes twinkled and she laughed once more. She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive, and the very thought made her bite down on her bottom lip. Billy would kill her stone dead if she so much as looked at another man, let alone if he were to find out she was actually attracted to him. “Maybe I will.” She held out her hand. “It was nice to see you again, Fletch.”
Fletch took her hand in his, noting how tiny it was compared to his own. “Yeah, see you.”
He watched as she wandered off down the aisle and could barely contain his excitement at being in her company. Checking that the coast was clear first, he slipped out of the shop unseen, and made his way down the street in the opposite direction of where Joseph Hatton had parked Billy’s car.
There was something about Susan King that had crawled underneath his skin, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t erase her from his mind.
* * *
That evening, Susan sat perched on the edge of the velvet chaise lounge. She was in the main bedroom and her husband was standing across from her, undressing.
“I was thinking …” She cleared her throat before continuing. “It isn’t fair to Joseph to have him driving me around everywhere.”
Billy snapped his head upwards. “Has he said something to you?”
“No, of course not.” She shook her head vigorously, her cheeks blushing. She could barely believe she was actually going to do this. “I was just thinking that maybe you should give him a break.” She watched her husband’s reaction closely.
“Yeah, maybe.”
She stood up, walked toward him, and as she placed her hand across his bare back, her fingertips caressed his skin. “How about that young man you introduced me to at my birthday party?”
“Who, Spencer?” he asked, screwing up his face. “He ain’t the full ticket. I wouldn’t trust him to drive you to the end of the driveway.”
“No,” she shook her head. “What was his name?” She tilted her head to one side as though thinking it over. “That’s it, Fletcher.”
“You mean, Fletch?”
“Yes, that’s him. He seems nice, polite, trustworthy.”
“Yeah.” Billy nodded his head. “He is.” He took a few moments to think it through. As fond as he was of Fletch, he wanted him out of the way for a while, or at least wanted him out of his brother’s way. “Yeah.” He turned and kissed his wife’s forehead. “He can start tomorrow.”
Susan gave her husband a smile. She swallowed down the guilt she felt and promptly turned her head away from him, sure that he would notice her blushes. “Good. I want to go shopping tomorrow. Please tell him not to be late.”
Chapter 3
Albie Bannerman strutted out of the Red Dice Casino. Situated on Southend sea front, it boasted a sea view. It was the early hours of the morning and the area was virtually deserted as he breathed in lungsful of fresh sea air. Above his head, sea gulls were already squawking as they circled the early morning sky.
He was on a lucky streak and had come away from the casino happy. In his back pocket was a bundle of cash, and he grinned widely as he strolled toward where he’d parked his car the previous evening.
He was about to cross the street when a white transit van pulled up beside him. He barely gave it a second glance as he stepped off of the kerb.
He heard the driver’s and passenger’s doors open, saw a rush of figures race toward him, and before he could even think the situation through, they had bundled him into the back of the van, kicki
ng and screaming.
The figure who pinned his arms around his body was a big lump. No matter how much Albie struggled, he was unable to release himself from the tight grip the man had on him.
A second man came into view, and he pulled a makeshift balaclava off of his head.
“Hello, Albie,” he grinned, his voice loud. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Pulling back his head, Albie spat in the man’s face. “You no good prick,” he roared, as he struggled to release himself once more. “I’ll knock you fucking out.”
“Knock me out? You wouldn’t be able to throw a sausage across the street, let alone throw a punch, you stupid cunt.”
The fist that landed in Albie’s stomach caused him to double over in pain. Winded by the blow, he struggled to catch his breath.
“You won’t get away with this,” he growled.
Billy King laughed out loud. He looked across to Spencer and gave him a conspiratorial wide grin.
“I think you’ll find, I just have.”
Without even breaking a sweat, he proceeded to beat the living daylights out of him. In fact, to put it mildly, he hadn’t even started on the man yet.
* * *
Susan shrugged on her coat. From the corner of her eye, she watched Fletch as he hovered beside the front door. Not for the first time did she regret asking her husband to switch drivers.
“So, where to, milady?” It was said tongue in cheek, and a wide grin spread across Fletch’s face.
Susan turned up her nose at his choice of address. “Please, don’t call me that.” It was bad enough that Billy put her on a pedestal; she didn’t want his employees doing the same.
“Sorry,” he said shamefaced. “So, where do you want to go, Mrs. King?”
She brushed past him, more than aware of the ripple of electricity that simmered between them. “The village shops, please.”
“Okay.” He smiled once more and held open the front door for her.
They walked across the paved driveway, her high-heeled shoes clip-clopping with every step she took. She stopped beside the car and Fletch ran around to the front passenger’s door, unlocking it. She made no attempt to move forward, and he raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Oh,” he muttered, once it became clear that she intended to sit in the back of the car. He shoved the passenger’s door closed and made his way around to the rear of the vehicle.
He watched her climb inside, closed the door behind her, puffed out his cheeks and then opened the driver’s door. In silence, he started the ignition and drove the car forward. As much as he hated himself for it, he couldn’t stop himself from taking sly glances at her in the rear-view mirror.
Staring out of the window, Susan turned to look at the back of his head. “It’s quicker if you turn left here,” she stated, as they neared the end of the driveway.
“Okay.” Fletch nodded his head and flicked the indicator. He glanced up to look in the mirror and caught her eye. Hastily, she looked away. Inwardly, he groaned. Despite her stunning good looks, he was beginning to see why Joseph had complained so bitterly.
* * *
As a bucket of icy cold water was thrown over him, Albie Bannerman gasped. He coughed and spluttered as the water burned the back of his nose and throat.
“Wakey, wakey,” Billy grinned.
Tied to a chair, Albie struggled against the ropes that confined him. He could feel his left eye was swollen shut, could feel a split gum and a dislodged tooth wobble. He spat out a mouthful of blood. “You won’t get away with this,” he growled.
Billy sighed as though bored, and spread out his arms. “As I’ve already stated,” he said, his tone mocking, “I have got away with it.” He crouched down beside the man and looked him in the eye. “And there ain’t fuck all you can do about it, is there?”
As he struggled against the ropes once more, Billy’s laughter rang loudly in his ears. Through hooded eyes, he watched as the man straightened up, and he took this as his que to look around him. There were just two of them present, King and the lump who had confined him.
He turned his attention to the small room. The floor and walls had been covered over in sheets of thick plastic. With a stone staircase along one wall, he took a wild guess that he was being held in some kind of cellar. There were no visible windows. It was difficult for him to take a guess at the location, or to even know what time of day it was. For how long had they held him captive? How long had he been unconscious for? It could have been days, for all he knew.
“So,” Billy said as he turned around, “who the fuck is it that is giving you information?”
Albie snarled.
“I asked you a question.”
Albie remained silent. He was no fool and knew for a fact that the moment he divulged who the snake in the grass was, they would kill him.
Clenching his fists once more, Billy lunged toward him. “Who the fuck is it?” he roared.
Still, Albie didn’t speak. Despite the situation he found himself to be in, he took a moment of satisfaction to see King so rattled. He smirked to himself. He was already a dead man, so he may as well have some fun while he still could.
* * *
George Bannerman drummed his fingers across the desk. He was sat in his study, or his office, as he liked to call the wood-panelled room, and stared at the man standing opposite him.
“I can’t give you any more information. I’m done,” he whined.
George raised his eyebrows.
“He’s already suspicious. And if he finds out it was me, then he’s gonna kill me stone dead.”
“And how exactly is that my problem?” George spread out his arms.
A slither of panic ran through Joseph Hatton’s veins. “Please,” he begged. “You have to help me out here, if he finds out …”
“Nah.” George flicked his hand dismissively. If there was one thing he loathed more than Billy King, then it was this man standing in front of him. There was nothing worse than an informant, a snake in the grass.
“Please, Mr. Bannerman.” Joseph was close to tears, so deep was the fear inside of him, and he clasped his hands together in front of his body as he tried to get his point across. “Like I said, he is already suspicious and it’s only a matter of time before he looks to me. He’s bound to; he ain’t stupid.”
Lounging back in his chair, George studied him. After an age, he spoke. “The problem is,” he said, “I need you to stay inside. I need you to regain his trust—to gather information. I need to be able to stay one step ahead of him.”
It was jealousy that had caused Joseph to run to the Bannermans, and a sneer creased his face. It was becoming harder and harder to gain information from Billy.
On more than one occasion, he’d found him closeted away with his protégée, Fletch, discussing matters in private. Ever since the kid had turned up, all he ever heard was Fletch this, Fletch fucking that. Well, fuck Fletch. What about him?
He was supposed to be Billy’s number two, and for the past six months, he’d been demoted to driving Susan King around. He was no gofer; he was no lackey.
“Give me protection,” he implored George, “and I’ll find out everything you want to know.”
George smiled; this was more like it. “Deal.” He stood up from behind the desk. “Should King get wind of our arrangement, then in due course, we will offer protection.”
Joseph stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the deal.
Ignoring the outstretched hand, George walked toward the office door and pulled it open. “Don’t let me down.” He gave a chilling smile and put out his hand, signalling the end of the meeting. “You can see yourself out.”
Joseph nodded his head and swallowed deeply. He couldn’t help but feel as though he’d made a pact with the devil himself.
* * *
Fletch watched as Susan crossed over the street and made her way back to the car. He jumped out and held open the door for her. She squeezed past him, their bodies close. It took all of
his restraint to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.
“Thank you.”
He gave her a smile, closed the door behind her, and climbed into the car.
Sat behind the wheel, he caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. “Wouldn’t you like to learn to drive yourself?” Even his mum had a little run-around. She loved the independence her car gave her.
Susan shook her head. “Billy wouldn’t like that.”
Fletch narrowed his eyes. He continued to hold her gaze. “I could teach you if you’d like. I taught my mum …”
“I’ve already told you, Billy wouldn’t like it.” She turned her head away, breaking his gaze.
Fletch shrugged his shoulders and started the ignition. “I don’t mind,” he muttered.
As much as she would love to learn to drive, Susan shook her head and stared out of the car window. From the very first moment she had laid her eyes upon Billy King, he had controlled her, in some form or another. She glanced down at her wedding band. The twenty-two-caret gold ring was a constant reminder that she belonged to him, and him alone.
“Just take me home, please.” There was a sudden sadness to her voice.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Fletch began to drive the car forward. He looked up at the rear-view mirror and caught her eye once more. After just a few hours in her company, it was clear to see that there was so much more to Billy King’s marriage than what he led people to believe.
* * *
Albie Bannerman’s breathing had become laboured. His head hung low. His face was battered, bruised, and had swollen to twice its usual size. He could barely breathe, so acute was the pain in his chest.