Riot

by Heather Atkinson

  “That is illegal,” he announced.

  “Actually I don’t think it is Sir. One of the men owns this warehouse, so they’re not trespassing and they’re indulging in their activities in private. Looks like your grass got it wrong Sir.”

  He straightened up, looking so furious that for a moment Miller thought he was going to hit her, until he grunted with frustration and stomped off. She was gratified to see that as he passed by his officers they all had to hide their smiles. Finally that bastard had been brought down a peg or two. If anyone deserved it he did.

  CHAPTER 26

  Jules grinned after speaking to the screw at the prison who was on the family’s payroll. “The boys did it. John South’s dead.”

  “That’s one less thing to worry about,” replied Ryan, taking a sip from the mug of tea he held. After the intrusion into Jules and Mikey’s home they’d decided to hole up at The Manor instead. The bedrooms were large and comfortable, so it was no hardship.

  When there was a knock at the front door Ryan drew his gun.

  “Take it easy Magnum,” Jules told him. “It’s just Dane.”

  “Finally. What took him so long?” he replied, following her to the door.

  “He’s been on holiday in Goa. He only got back this morning.”

  She opened the door to a very tanned Dane, unable to repress a giggle at the sight of the pale rings around his eyes from where his sunglasses had been.

  “One word about pandas and I’m off,” he told her.

  “I’m saying nothing,” she grinned. “Come on in then, you’re letting in a draught.”

  Dane stepped inside, shut the door and shook Ryan’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too.”

  “So what shit’s gone down now? I had to cut my holiday short.”

  “Only by a day,” retorted Jules. “Don’t make out you’re hard done by.”

  “I was missing a decent brew anyway. Speaking of which, is one going?”

  Jules looked to the mug Ryan cradled and shook her head. “Jesus, we’re getting old. It used to be whisky we’d hit. We’ll be on the Ovaltine next and I’ll be doling out the blankets and slippers.”

  “Sounds good to me,” yawned Dane, following them through to the kitchen and flopping into a chair at the table. “I like this place. It’s cosy.”

  “We were going for intimidating compound, not cosy.”

  “Then you failed. Well come on lady, get the kettle on. I’m gasping.”

  She rolled her eyes and switched it on.

  “So what’s been happening?”

  By the time she’d brought him up to date he’d been furnished with tea and biscuits and was halfway through his brew.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said when she’d finished. “Can you lot not stay out of trouble for five minutes?”

  “It’s not us, it’s all the dickheads surrounding us,” she barked back.

  “So what do you need from me?”

  “Well, we’ve got Bruiser and Mark tracking down Declan the traitor and my contacts are looking for Ray McGinnis. Without them Dwyer’s shitty case collapses and the boys go free.”

  “Will it though, with this new coalition gunning for you?”

  “Even they can’t make the charges stick without witnesses,” said Ryan.

  “Suppose.”

  “Me and the boys talked before they went inside,” said Jules. “We were going to put this proposal to you when you came back from Goa anyway. We want you to come in as part of our inner circle. You’ll be involved in all business decisions, not just the ones that affect the methamphetamine side of things.”

  “The meth remains with me, it doesn’t get absorbed into your empire.”

  “It will remain entirely yours with us continuing to get our usual cut.”

  “So what do you get out of it?”

  “Your back-up at all times, as well as command of your men if we go to war and you’re not here. You do enjoy travelling.”

  “You have my back-up anyway, you know that.”

  From the gentleness in Dane’s tone, Ryan guessed he still carried a torch for her. He probably always would.

  “I do,” she said. “But…”

  “This way you ensure I always back you and won’t cut another deal with one of your competitors. As I’m the only supplier of amphetamines in the city it means your family corners that particular market.”

  “In a nutshell, yes. But it also means you’ll always have our back-up too and we won’t cut a deal with anyone else either. And if anyone does start to attempt dealing methamphetamines, we’ll crush them for you.”

  Dane forced himself not to look as eager as he felt, he was always having to take time out to squash some arsehole attempting to muscle in on his business. He’d no plans to make a deal with anyone else, why would he when this family were the strongest in the entire country? But that could always change. Gangs had a habit of rising and falling. No one had clung onto power for as long as this one had and he knew keeping hold of it was a constant pressure for them. For so long their alliance had been kept under the radar but this would announce it in a very public way, which worked well for him while they were strong. Even with Mikey and Jez inside no one could come close. But if they fell then so would he.

  “For God’s sake,” said Jules when he’d remained silent for a full minute, calmly sipping his tea. “It’s a good deal.”

  “I’m a businessman Jules. I don’t rush these decisions.”

  “Well try to hurry up before we all turn grey and wrinkly.”

  “It’s reassuring that recent troubles haven’t affected your delightful sense of humour. And yes, I accept.”

  “Oh how gracious of you Your Lordship.”

  “So, do I get my own key to this place?” he said.

  “No but you can drop by without an invitation.”

  “Is that it?”

  “You’re one of nine people in the entire world who knows of this place’s existence. What else do you want?” she scowled. “Or does that not make you special enough?”

  “It seems your brothers inherited all the diplomacy genes.”

  “And I got the war genes, so stop being such a fussy bloody fairy.”

  “Alright Jules,” said Ryan. “Take it easy.”

  “See,” said Dane, nodding at Ryan. “Diplomacy.”

  Jules narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Now that’s been agreed,” said Dane. “I’ll get on with overseeing everything.”

  “Great,” said Jules. “That means Carter and Mark can concentrate on springing Mikey and Jez. Is Brick back in action?”

  “Yes, finally.”

  “How is he?”

  “Fine. Getting shot in the neck seems to have made him even stronger.”

  Brick, Dane’s second-in-command had been badly injured helping protect Mikey and Jules from Andrew Clayton’s men. It had taken him a long time to recover, a lesser man would have died from the injury.

  “That’s good news. We could use some of that right now.”

  Ryan and Jules both produced guns when there was the sound of the front door opening while Dane remained rigid in his seat, his mug to his lips.

  “Christ,” sighed Jules, stuffing the gun into the back of her jeans. “You might have warned us you were coming back.”

  “Sorry Boss,” said Mark.

  “Never mind. What did you find out?”

  “A lot actually. Charlie and Kian are massively pissed off with Declan for grassing. They gave up where he is without any persuasion.”

  “And?”

  “He’s here, in Manchester.”

  “The cheeky little twatbag,” she seethed. “Not only does he stab us in the back but he ponces onto our turf to do it.”

  “They said he’s changed since he learned about Amber’s death. Kian said he’s lost the plot a bit. He’s also bought himself some heavy duty weaponry.”

  “How heavy duty?”

  “Shotguns, pistol
s and sniper rifles.”

  “Sniper rifles?”

  “It’s true too. We verified the information. He got them from Neil Clancy.”

  “That fucking lemon. I’ll give him a harsh life lesson in choosing his clients more wisely.”

  “Bruiser already did that,” said Mark.

  Bruiser’s lips curled evilly.

  “From the sound of it,” said Ryan. “I don’t think Declan’s very committed to giving evidence in court. It seems he’s more out for revenge.”

  “That’s what Charlie and Kian said,” replied Mark.

  “Then our priority is finding him,” said Jules.

  “I think you should stay here,” Ryan told her.

  “No bloody way.”

  “Think about it. Why has Declan bought that weaponry? Mikey and Jez are locked up in prison, he can’t shoot them. So who do you think his target’s going to be?”

  “Jesus, he’s right,” said Dane.

  Bruiser nodded in agreement.

  “Oh well that’s just fucking marvellous,” said Jules. “The boys are locked up, my kids are staying with friends and now I can’t set foot outside in case some treacherous loony bastard blows my head off.”

  “That’s about the size of it, yes,” said Ryan.

  “It would just be that dick’s idea of revenge,” said Mark. “Killing you Boss to get back at Mikey and Jez.”

  “You could do what Rachel and I did when Alex put out a contract on us,” said Ryan. “Go about on your motorbike. The lid gives you anonymity.”

  “Great idea bruv, like it.”

  “You can borrow one of my bikes,” said Dane. “Yours stands out too much.”

  “But you like wanky sports bikes.”

  “They’re not wanky, they’re the dog’s bollocks. But if you don’t want my help that’s fine. Go about on your Harley that stands out a mile and get your head shot off.”

  “Fine. I’ll use your girl’s bike then.”

  “Why are you so against sports bikes? Did one bite you when you were a kid?”

  “Jules gratefully accepts your offer of a sports bike Dane,” said Ryan, interrupting their bickering.

  “Fine,” she sighed. “Thank you Dane.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied with a gracious nod.

  “One of our priorities is still tracking down Declan,” said Jules. “We’re going to top the bastard but we need to treat him as dangerous rather than the joke he actually is.”

  Before she could continue her phone rang. Ryan was relieved to see her smile as she listened.

  “Good news,” she said, hanging up. “Dwyer the dick fell for the set-up we arranged with Big Duncan’s help. Apparently he made a proper tit of himself. He was hoping to find drugs when instead he stuck his hand into a bagful of giant dildos.”

  All four men chuckled at that vivid image, even Bruiser.

  “Now I’ve got to meet up with some Brummie git whose son distracted the screws so the boys could take down that cockwomble John South,” continued Jules. “The guy’s son got a few days in segregation for his trouble, so I do owe him.”

  “You can’t leave Manchester,” said Ryan.

  “I’ve no intention of leaving. If he wants to talk he can come up here. I’ll arrange to meet him at one of our safe houses.”

  “Does Declan know the location of any of your safe houses?”

  “Course he bloody doesn’t. We changed them all when we found out he’s a two-faced twat. Mikey and Jez need to be warned too. I’m not going to assume Declan can’t reach them inside. He’s proved to be pretty unpredictable. Mark, Bruiser, can I leave the hunt for Declan to you?”

  They both nodded.

  “And when we find him?” said Mark.

  “Kill him. The time for subtlety has gone. I would like to have some one-to-one time with him and my knives but we don’t have time for messing about. Just get rid of him and make sure no one ever finds him. We don’t want him popping up like something from a zombie film like Estelle and Amber.”

  The growl of the motorbike made DS Miller jump. It was almost midnight and she was standing in a darkened underground car park waiting to meet the most lethal woman in the city.

  The motorbike pulled up alongside her, the throb of the engine reverberating through her chest. It was a relief when it was switched off. Miller, who appreciated the female form as well as the male admired the way Jules leapt nimbly off the bike, the tight leather clinging to her strong, curvy figure. The woman was bloody scary but she was forced to admit there was something rather enthralling about her. She could see why she had a reputation for captivating men, although she had heard that since she’d got married she only had eyes for her husband.

  “I believe our plan worked like a charm,” said Jules when she’d pulled off her helmet.

  This told Miller that Jules had more moles in the force than just herself as she hadn’t broken the news of the failed raid to her yet, she’d been waiting to tell her in person. “It certainly did. Everyone’s pissing themselves about it at the station.”

  “I would love to have seen it.”

  “The Chief Super’s spitting feathers because he authorised the operation, which cost a small fortune.”

  “So the Chief Super’s pally with Dwyer then?”

  “He was. I’m not so sure he will be anymore after today’s debacle.”

  “Serves both the wankers right.”

  “It was a smart move setting Dwyer up like that,” said Miller. “Make him look an idiot enough times and the executive officers will be forced to take action against him.”

  “That’s the plan. But what we really need are three cases he’s building to collapse.”

  “Three?”

  “Yes. Mikey and Jez’s of course for Amber’s death, the case against Jez for Estelle’s murder. And Benjamin Tierney.”

  “Benjamin Tierney? He’s being done for forgery. Why him?”

  “You don’t need to know that. We need the evidence against him gone, mainly those fake cheques he so stupidly starting handing out all over the city. Also that DNA sample supposedly from Jez taken from Estelle’s clothing.”

  “Now I don’t know about this. Feeding you information is one thing but stealing evidence…”

  “You don’t need to steal it. That’s all in hand. I need you to do something else.”

  “What?” she said warily.

  “Declan Maguire’s in the city and I need to find him ASAP.”

  “Oh my God. He’s one of Dwyer’s witnesses, isn’t he?”

  Jules had brought up Declan as a little test to see if Miller had been telling the truth about how quiet Dwyer had been keeping his witnesses. She had to admit she did look shocked, so it seemed she was being honest. “Yes. He’s come to the city to kill me.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Indeed. Ironically, putting Mikey and Jez in prison has protected them, so Declan is going to take his anger out on me instead. As you can imagine, I’m pretty anxious to find him.”

  Miller didn’t think she looked anxious. In fact she looked remarkably calm for someone who knew she had a lunatic gunning for her. “I know some uniformed officers I can ask to keep a discreet eye out but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do if you don’t want Dwyer to find out. He has so many grasses and some of them are on the force.”

  “And you have grasses of your own, ones that will speak to a copper but not to me. You also have useful resources.” She held out a piece of paper with a gloved hand. “This is the licence plate number of the car he was last known to drive. If he’s smart he will have swapped it for another vehicle by now but Declan isn’t renowned for his brains.”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” said Miller, hastily pocketing it. “Anything else?”

  “That’s all, for now. Continue keeping an eye on Dwyer and if you find out anything interesting…”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Great. You know, you’ll make an excellent DI.
I look forward to working with you more in the future,” said Jules with a wink.

  Heat flooded through Miller and she hastily looked down at the ground, watching from under her eyelashes as Jules mounted her motorcycle, the powerful engine roaring into life. Miller wondered what it felt like for Jules to have all that pulsating thrust between her thighs. The thought turned her even redder.

  CHAPTER 27

  Leonidas sighed and stared at his computer screen, for once no enthusiasm for his work. Something was bugging him and it wasn’t to do with The Make-Up Killer. He kept replaying his conversation with that creepy little Nazi DCI in Manc Land over in his head. He’d seen the news so he knew Mikey Maguire and Jez Law had been charged and remanded to prison for Amber Maguire’s murder but it just wasn’t sitting right with him. Why would one assassin need to speak to both of them on the phone? It didn’t make sense. And how did a case packed with such circumstantial evidence even reach the inside of a courtroom? Surely the judge or CPS lawyer should have thrown it out?

  Unless they were in on it with Dwyer, said a dark voice inside him.

  He’d done some digging on Dwyer and discovered he had a reputation for fitting people up and for twisting the facts to meet his own scenario. But why should it bother him? Dwyer had locked up two violent criminals the police had been after for years. Prison was exactly where they belonged. So why did his sense of injustice feel outraged? After all, it took the IRS to bring down Al Capone, they couldn’t do it the traditional way. But Capone had been guilty of tax evasion. What if Mikey Maguire was innocent of his ex-wife’s murder? There was only the word of a single dodgy bastard to say it had been murder anyway. He wished he’d never got caught up in this case, he had enough going on with The Make-Up Killer. As always his insides clenched at the thought of that stupid nickname.

  “Guv,” said one of his detective sergeants, snapping him out of his thoughts.

  “You’d better not have disturbed me for no good reason,” he retorted, annoyed.

  “Sorry, was I interrupting your staring into space time?”

  “Spit it out Smithy,” he glowered. “I’m not in the mood.” This cheeky sarcastic sod had been the one to start taking the piss out of him when that film had been released about King Leonidas of Sparta leading his men into battle against the invading Persians. However his joke had fallen flat on its arse. It was hard to take the piss out of someone named after a heroic king who’d been played by a Hollywood sex symbol, so Smithy had ended up looking like a tit with a Gerard Butler fixation. “What?” he added when Smithy sniffed the air around him.