by Ricky Black
Rigby tried to keep his annoyance clear as he replied.
‘I appreciate what you’re saying sir, but K-Bar is a key piece of Teflon’s organisation. He’s linked to several murders and ran the team while Teflon was recovering from his own shooting. If we can get him, he could be the key to unlocking the story behind numerous murders, past and present. The intel suggests Teflon was behind the recent murder of Big-Kev. K-Bar would have detailed knowledge of that.’
‘We need a resolution, Detective Rigby. Simple as that. I want arrests, and I want to show people we’re not sitting on our arses doing nothing. I suggest you get back out there and find more information.’
Shorty sat in a safe house, rag in hand as he cleaned a section of guns. Every time he thought about Grace’s shooting, he grew angrier. She was in critical condition. The surgery was apparently a success, but the doctors remained tight-lipped about her chances of recovery.
Lamont had spoken with Amy and passed on the information. A few of Akeem’s shooters were nearby, keeping their straps close as they waited. Shorty wasn’t sure if they were guarding him or keeping him detained. It didn’t matter.
Lennox hadn’t been seen, nor had Nikkolo or any of Lennox’s higher-ups. Shorty planned to smoke out Lutel. When he poked his head out, Shorty would annihilate him.
Shorty’s phone rang. He was tempted to ignore the private number, but decided to let out some anger on the caller. He put the gun and rag down, picking up the phone.
‘What?’ He snapped.
‘Is this Shorty?’ A muffled voice asked.
‘Don’t play dumb. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t know who it was.’
‘The guy you’re looking for, he’s at a spot on Grange Park Road. It has a blue gate and a white door.’
‘Who is this?’ Shorty clutched the phone tighter.
‘Don’t worry about who I am. Check out the spot if you don’t believe me.’
The person hung up. Shorty looked down at the phone, his mind alight. It was possible they were lying, or trying to set him up. Shorty weighed up the risks and decided it was worth it. Rising to his feet, he shrugged into a bullet-proof vest and readied his weapons.
‘The call has been made. I already had the driver taken care of.’
Lennox nodded, approving of Nikkolo’s initiative.
‘Any word on Teflon?’
‘People are definitely looking for us. They’re connected to him, so he’s working with Shorty on this. People are reluctant to talk to me though. It’s like they think we’re already finished.’
Lennox had expected this. As soon as he’d heard about Lutel shooting Shorty’s child, he’d scaled back his war with Delroy Williams, refusing to get caught out on both fronts.
‘Contact Teflon directly. Try to arrange a meeting on neutral ground. Use a go-between if you have to. Someone Teflon will trust.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Nikkolo blurted. Lennox shot him a sharp look. Nikkolo sighed, then pulled out his phone to make another call.
Shorty studied the address he had been given, unable to see anything out of the ordinary. The gun resting on his lap had a silencer attached. He wanted to take his time with Lutel.
Shorty had no idea how many people were inside, but he’d called off Akeem’s shooters, wanting to handle this on his own.
Pulling up his hood, Shorty climbed from the stolen car, strap held low. The street was deserted. It was early evening and the cold cut through Shorty’s hooded top with ease. He ignored the chill and kept his head down. Shorty saw the blue gate and hopped the wall, landing stiffly on the other side, wincing as pain shot up his ankle. He tested his leg a few times and seemed to be okay. He saw lights on both up and downstairs, and the curtains were closed.
Disregarding the front door, Shorty headed to the side door and tried the handle, unsurprised to find it locked. Shorty had no tools to pick the lock. Stepping back, he kicked in the door, which smashed open with a satisfying crunch.
Shorty was inside, following the voices as he charged to the living room, spotting two men. The younger man went for his gun, but a bullet smashed into his throat, knocking him back with an awful choking sound. Lutel was slow to respond, giving Shorty ample time to shoot him in his right knee. Lutel fell with a scream. Shorty bounded over, hitting him three times in the mouth, kicking him in the stomach.
‘Shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear your damn mouth. Is there anyone else in the house I need to kill?’
Lutel hesitated, causing Shorty to shoot him in the other knee at point-blank range. His gloved hand covered Lutel’s blooded mouth, muffling the scream.
‘Answer me.’
Lutel jerkily shook his head, twitching in pain. Shorty aimed the gun at his face.
‘Where’s Lennox?’
Lutel didn’t reply, trying to glare whilst grimacing.
‘Talk, or I’m gonna make you.’
Still, Lutel said nothing. Kissing his teeth, Shorty dragged him by his leg to the kitchen. Turning on the stove, Shorty reached for a knife, heating it under the flame. Advancing on Lutel, he sliced at the man’s skin, relishing the growing screams of pain. He poured table salt on the wounds, a demented smile on his face.
‘Tell me, before I slice your nuts off!’
‘Alright! Alright! L-Listen, he m-moves around, but he’s got a main base near Cottingley. It’s g-guarded, but he spends a lot of time there.’
‘What’s the address?’ Shorty took his phone out. When he’d typed the address into a notepad and saved it, Shorty faced the cowering man at his feet.
‘You would have died anyway, but when you went for my daughter, you violated.’ He placed the gun to Lutel’s stomach and fired once, feeling Lutel’s body jerk. Straightening, Shorty fired the next bullet into his neck, watching Lutel’s body twitch one last time. He breathed deeply. There was still a massive debt to be paid, and Lennox Thompson was next on the list.
Chapter Seventeen
Thursday 19 March 2015
Over the next few days, Chapeltown played host to an increase in street violence. Fights and ambushes broke out all over the Hood, with doors being kicked in, people being interrogated, and several isolated incidents involving drive-by shootings on certain houses.
The OurHood Initiative held two meetings, but participation and attendance had dramatically dropped. No one wanted any part of the situation.
The body of Lutel Wood had turned up on the streets, his injuries consistent with repeated torture, followed by execution. The police had a host of suspects, including Shorty, but no one had seen him.
Lennox Thompson climbed from a navy Ford Focus, two goons with him, and strode into a house. The man he’d come to see was pacing around the living room mumbling to himself. When he saw Lennox, he paused, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
‘What the hell is going on?’
Lennox went to the kitchen and put on the kettle. When it boiled, he added coffee then hot water to a cup, stirred for a few moments, and took an immediate sip. The man stood in the doorway, bristling with impatience.
‘Are you going to answer me?’
Lennox studied the man, resisting the urge to smirk at his less than immaculate appearance. There were circles under his eyes, and he needed a haircut.
‘Answer you about what, exactly?’
‘People are saying you ordered the shooting of Shorty’s kid, which led to Lutel’s murder. How am I supposed to spin this?’
‘You’re the wordsmith, you tell me,’ replied Lennox, his dry tone showing a lack of interest.
‘Len, I run the meetings, and I can steer people towards certain perspectives, but even I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this one. Did you do it?’
‘Does it matter? My name isn’t even supposed to be in it. Blame it on someone else. Isn’t that what I keep you around for?’
‘Don’t talk to me like that!’ Malcolm snapped. ‘You need me. Without my work out there, opening eyes and control
ling the masses, all eyes are on you. You think you can get your little Hood Utopia if you make an enemy out of me?’
Lennox glared at Malcolm until some of the bluster went out of the scholar. He held the stare a moment longer.
‘Understand one thing; you’re a tool I use. You have no power. You’re not a threat. You’re only relevant because I gave you purpose and direction. You’re a failed writer turned blogger, nothing more.’
‘Bullshit! I was successful long before I met you, and the OurHood project is mine, not yours.’
Lennox smiled icily. ‘You still don’t get it. Without me, there is no project. Do you really not know what I was doing behind the scenes? People wanted you dead. You ranted with impunity, because of me. I intimidated everyone who wanted to silence you. If I made it known I was withdrawing my support, you wouldn’t last twenty-four hours. If you want to look at it objectively, you failed.’
Malcolm had paled throughout Lennox’s cutting tirade, but now he found his voice. ‘How did I fail?’
‘You were supposed to seduce Teflon’s lady. You didn’t do it.’
‘I broke them up though!’
Lennox’s smirked. ‘Do you really believe they’ll stay broken up?’
Malcolm didn’t reply. Lennox continued.
‘You got caught up in feelings and fell for a woman you could never have. Now, scurry back to your laptop and get to work. It’ll be open season if I pull support. Remember that.’
Malcolm hurried to the door, wrenching it open. Before he left, he glared at Lennox.
‘You’ll always be nothing, Len, and that galls you.’
Shorty glared at the four walls of the living room of his safe house, coiled and ready to act on the information Lutel surrendered to him. Shorty had posted up on the spot, but hadn’t seen Lennox yet.
His body ached with tiredness. Shorty hadn’t slept, running on adrenaline and rage. He was tempted to ring K-Bar and Maka for backup, but they worked for Lamont. He wasn’t sure Lamont would agree with his plan of action.
Trudging to the kitchen, Shorty made another cup of coffee. While the kettle boiled, he cracked open a Red Bull and chugged it, wiping his mouth and leaving the can on the worktop. He grabbed the cup and headed back to the living room, turning on his phone. Checking his messages, he saw one from Jenny, asking for Shorty to call. Without even thinking, he dialled her number.
‘Shorty?’
‘Hey,’ he replied after a few moments.
‘Where are you? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine. I’m safe.’
Jenny paused before she spoke again. ‘Can I see you?’
‘Why?’ He sharply asked.
‘I just want to make sure you’re okay. If you want to talk over the phone instead, it’s fine. I . . . guess I understand just enough to see why you might be paranoid.’ Jenny’s voice broke.
‘Where are you staying?’
Jenny left the door unlocked for Shorty and he walked in, nearly tripping over a pile of boxes.
‘Sorry about that,’ said Jenny. ‘I only moved in yesterday. Still getting all my things in order.’ she led Shorty to the living room. He looked around. There was a CD player stuffed in the corner, an old coffee table, two sofas and an armchair, all of which looked like they had come with the house.
Jenny wore a black hooded top with leggings and thick socks. It tickled Shorty that she was so comfortable being casual around him, and it took away a lot of the tension.
‘You look tired. When was the last time you slept?’
Shorty shrugged. ‘There are more important things than sleep right now.’
‘Like revenge?’
‘Exactly.’
‘That won’t make Grace magically better, you know that right?’
Shorty wanted to shout at Jenny, but didn’t. He couldn’t. There was something keeping her out of the range of his wrath, and Shorty didn’t quite understand it.
‘This is me, Jen. This is what I do. They went at my daughter, so now they go. That’s it. It doesn’t get less complicated than that.’
Jenny didn’t offer a response, and the silence lingered until Shorty spoke again.
‘I’m surprised L didn’t give you the house.’
Jenny smiled wanly. ‘He offered. I said no.’
‘Why?’
‘I wanted to start again. I loved that house, but it had too many bad memories, mainly revolving around my deteriorating relationship with Lamont.’
‘I get that,’ said Shorty. ‘No chance of y’all getting back together then?’
Jenny sighed. ‘I don’t see how we can. He’s following his path. I’m trying to figure out what mine is. L said that I saved him once. That I made him see a future for us. I bought into that.’
Shorty didn’t reply, absorbing the words. He remembered Lamont’s change after he met Jenny, but if he was honest, the signs were there before that. Lamont had dominated the drugs game, but there had always been a reluctance to his actions. He’d carried himself differently, engaged with women differently, and played the game his own way.
It had taken a lot out of Lamont, Shorty realised. Jenny had been his salvation, but it hadn’t lasted. The revelation reeled him, making him think about his own path.
‘What does the future hold for you, Shorty?’
Shorty shrugged again. ‘Honestly, I don’t care. I’ll murder Lennox. Beyond that, nothing else matters. I don’t know if you get that, but it’s about as real as I can be.’
No more words were said. They sat for a long time, both understanding the other’s view. Shorty opened his mouth to speak, but held back. It wouldn’t help the situation.
‘I’m gonna take off, Jen. There’s a lot to do.’
He stepped toward her and she met him halfway. The embrace was lingering, and they clung tightly as if the action was essential. Shorty finally broke the hug, kissing Jenny on the cheek.
‘Good luck. I know you’ll smash whatever you do.’
‘Thank you, Shorty. Please, please be careful.’
Shorty had already closed the door on Jenny’s pleas.
Lamont and Akeem entered the city centre club on high alert. The club was located on Call Lane, but currently closed to the public. A shot-caller who had links with Lamont and was deemed to be neutral territory owned it. The terms of the meeting had been outlined to both attendees: No weapons, no trouble. Lamont would not break the terms.
The man he’d come to see was waiting, sitting at a table overlooking the club with another man. Lamont made his way up, and they shook hands.
‘It’s been a while, L.’
‘It has, Len.’
Lennox sent Nikkolo downstairs, and Lamont asked Akeem to go too. For a while, there was silence, the pair content to let it play out.
‘I’m trying to remember the last time you and I needed to meet about something,’ Lennox finally said.
‘Marcus was alive, I know that. Wasn’t it that thing with one of your guys trying a robbery, and some of my guys got involved, and we squashed it?’
Lennox shrugged, a half-smile on his lips.
‘Might have been. We’ve both been doing what we do a while, through the difficulties. You’ve had a couple more ups than me, I think.’
‘We’re in different businesses; it’s expected.’
‘Yeah. You sell poison and I don’t.’
‘Indeed. You just kill and maim people instead,’ replied Lamont, matching Lennox’s calm tone.
‘So did, Marcus, and you still cried over his body.’
‘He was my brother.’
Lennox turned to Lamont, ‘You can appreciate what I’m saying though, right? Your brother did the same dirt I did.’
‘I didn’t necessarily agree with him doing it either.’
‘You allowed it though. Turned a blind eye, tolerated it. Any way you want to put it, facts are the facts.’
‘Marcus was a grown man. We collaborated when necessary.’
‘You have an answe
r for everything. I like that,’ said Lennox, grinning. It was a grin with no mirth.
‘I guess we’re getting down to the reason we’re both here?’
Lennox nodded. ‘Do you mind if I start?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Chapeltown is in a funk; it needs more funding, there’s a loss of community spirit and influence. The influence comes from the money, and the money comes from drugs. Drugs are the problem. Drugs bring in the police, other gangsters, and it needs to stop. I’m going to make it stop. That’s my mission.
‘You wanted to walk off into the sun and leave it behind, so do that. Leave the drug game to its death. Walk away, leave Delroy and Shorty to their fate.’
Lamont respected the strength of Lennox’s words. This wasn’t a ploy; Lamont sensed Lennox was being honest.
‘You shouldn’t have shot Shorty’s daughter. That goes against everything you just said. There’s no structure that involves the shooting of an innocent girl.’
‘What about an innocent woman? Is that different? Because there are a few innocent women whose deaths are connected to your people.’
‘I’ve never authorised the murder of anyone who wasn’t in the game,’ said Lamont. Again, Lennox grinned.
‘That’s not the point, and you know it. I agree with you about Shorty’s little girl. Lutel fucked up and was eliminated because of it. I didn’t authorise her shooting, and I didn’t tell Lutel to get into a pissing contest with Shorty. As you know, my attention was focused elsewhere.’
‘Meaning Delroy.’
Lennox nodded.
‘Delroy won’t stop, because his son is dead, and he needs to save face. Shorty won’t stop, because he could never comprehend backing down. You’ve done all you can, L. You need to leave them to their fate.’
‘Your plan is doomed, Len. There’s too much money, and too many people depending on a wage from the drugs game for you to come in and stop things. You don’t have that sort of power.’