by Martina Cole
The boy slid down the wall and lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke out noisily. The spy hole closed and Benny heard the grille shut noisily.
‘All right, Benny me old son?’
There was laughter in the boy’s voice now and Benny opened his eyes wide as he finally realised who was in the cell with him.
‘Jonny White?’
He nodded.
‘I thought it was you when they put me in here. But in case you was trying to be incognito, I didn’t let on I knew you. What a fucking coincidence!’
Benny stopped smiling.
‘Coincidence isn’t the word.’
Jonny started to laugh nervously.
‘Leave it out, Ben, you’re always so paranoid.’
‘What happened to you then?’
Jonny grimaced.
‘Opened me trap once too often as usual. There was a crowd of us went to a nightclub called Raquel’s on Micky Harper’s stag night. What a shit hole. Anyway I got out of it and pushed me luck with some bird, and her brother was built like a brick shithouse. The rest, as they say, is history.’
Benny started laughing. That was Jonny all over.
‘What brought you here? As if I didn’t know!’ Jonny said. ‘Saw it all on the telly. It’s the talk of the fucking country, mate.’
Benny preened himself at the words.
‘It was all a set up. I had nothing to do with any of it.’
Jonny grinned again.
‘What? Someone walked into your house and stuck a fucking human head in your wardrobe, is that what you’re saying?’
Benny nodded and just in time Jonny remembered exactly who he was talking to. If Benny Ryan said it was a set up, it was a set up. If Benny Ryan told him his own mum was on the game Jonny would not argue with that fact.
‘What a diabolical fucking liberty, Benny, eh?’
‘My thoughts entirely, Jonny. Someone wants me out of the frame, that much is for sure.’
He yawned and settled himself on the bed once more. Jonny knew he would not be sleeping there, that much was already plain.
‘How’s Abul these days? I ain’t seen him lately.’
‘He’s all right, you know Abul.’
Jonny nodded.
‘I saw him a while ago, up the Circus Tavern of all places.’
‘What – Abul?’
The other man could hear the surprise in Benny’s voice and nodded.
‘He was up the Circus Tavern? Who with?’
Jonny shrugged.
‘I don’t know, I only saw him in the car park. They had one of them Sport girls’ nights, you know what I mean. A load of old slappers, if you ask me, but well fit and up for the game if you get my drift. I assumed Abul was up there for the crack like.’ Jonny burped loudly and carried on. ‘Had a fucking barrel load of drink, I’ll feel like shit in the morning.’
‘Who was he with?’
‘Who?’
‘Fucking Abul, stupid! Who else?’
Jonny could hear the annoyance that was creeping into Benny’s voice and it made him nervous.
‘I don’t know, some old bloke.’
Benny rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
‘What old bloke?’
Jonny was non-plussed for a few moments.
‘Just a bloke, I don’t know who it was. Flash, though. Few grands’ worth of tailoring and a brand new sky-blue Roller. What a piece of fucking kit!’
Benny jumped from the bed and, grabbing Jonny by his jacket, dragged him up from the floor with one mighty heave.
‘Are you sure it was Abul? Fucking answer me, you stupid cunt!’
Jonny was nodding like mad now.
‘Yeah. I spoke to him, said hello like.’
Benny dropped him back down on the floor then rang the bell by the cell door. As usual no one was interested in answering it. He stood with his finger on the bell without moving it, but ten minutes later they were still being ignored.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’
Jonny watched him warily. This was the last thing he needed tonight, Benny Ryan on the rampage. Still, as he consoled himself, it would make a good story one day and life was made up of good stories, wasn’t it?
He only hoped he lived long enough to tell this fucking tale in the first place because Benny Ryan did not look like a happy bunny. Then again, he never looked happy period.
Abul sat next to Tommy in the six-seater Cessna. They never spoke once all the way to the airstrip in Rettendon. As they alighted he pushed Tommy out of the plane. He stumbled and landed heavily on his knees.
Abul dragged him up by the scruff of the neck and threw him unceremoniously into a waiting car. He jumped into the back seat with him and ordered, ‘Drive!’ to a young Indian guy in a turban.
Tommy was seriously narked. Dusting down his suit, he glanced out of the rear window at the two bemused-looking heavies left standing on the tarmac and warned, ‘You’d better watch it, boy. Remember, I know all about you.’
Abul grinned and settled back in his seat.
‘Relax, Tommy. ’Course you do. Anyway, you didn’t think I was really taking you to Maura’s, did you? Me and you are off to see Vic, mate.’
Tommy paled, but was instantly on the offensive.
‘You know, you are in deep doo-doo,’ he said conversationally. ‘I mean, your pal Benny will kill you now you’ve shown your hand like this.’
Abul shrugged.
‘He’s got to fucking find me first, though.’
‘And Vic will tuck you up without a second’s thought,’ Tommy persisted, trying to get some leverage. ‘He’s heavily into racial purity and all that – founding member of the Inner City Firm. And besides, he has good reason to hate you, hasn’t he?’
Abul half-smiled and answered him in a bored tone of voice.
‘In fact, Tommy, it’s you he’s really pissed off with. I know how to handle psychos like Vic – I’ve had enough experience, after all.
‘His pitiful racist beliefs I can overlook – for as long as it makes business sense. This is a new world, Tommy, and I intend to be a major player. The Ryans and villains like them have had their day. They forgot one very important rule. The key thing with power is knowing when to hand it over. If you don’t, someone stronger always comes along and takes it from you anyway.’
Tommy laughed.
‘Hark at you! Fucking East Ham’s answer to Osama fucking bin Laden.’
Abul laughed with him.
‘Amazing, isn’t it, how they all took it for granted that I was going to walk in Benny’s shadow for the rest of me life? That calming him down and doing his bidding was all I was good for. When the Silvertown mob approached me with their idea I was more than ready to listen. For as long as it suited me. Bunch of lightweights!’
‘But taking out Rebekka and her old man like that . . . didn’t it turn your stomach?’
‘After what I’ve seen with Mad Benny nothing gets to me, Tommy. Anyway, the woman was a shitter. Couldn’t take the heat. I had to shut her up, didn’t I? And it was worth it to see the Ryans running scared.’
Tommy remembered Maura waking time and again from a nightmare she refused to describe, and felt a moment’s remorse. It was turning out to be quite a night for it.
‘Yeah, yeah, very clever,’ he said irritably. ‘But you went way too far in other directions and where did it get you, eh? Six years on and you’re still Mr Step and Fetch It. Now Vic’s back and looking for some answers, ain’t he? Don’t tell me he’s forgiven you your sins, ’cos I don’t believe it.’
Abul shook his head and slowly drew his hand out of his pocket.
‘’Course he hasn’t. Vic Joliff ain’t the forgiving kind. As you will very soon find out for yourself, I’m afraid.’
Tommy felt a sharp pain in his leg and looked down to see a hypodermic spiking it.
‘Here, what you doing to me? What the hell’s in that?’
Abul said soothingly, ‘It’s H, Tommy. The purest form. You’ll thank me for it – i
f you ever come round. Vic’s told me what he has in mind, see, and it’s not nice, not nice at all. Just pray this gets you first.’
Tommy was struggling to speak.
‘But . . . not my idea. You, Abul. Said it was too slow . . . didn’t need Vic. Not my idea . . .’
His voice failed him. He felt the sides of the car closing in. Abul leaned forward and gave directions to the driver before turning back to prop Tommy up against the door.
‘That’s right, you go to sleep. Be easier for you that way.’
He prided himself on being one of the new breed of villain – he liked to be as civilised as possible even when he was ridding himself of a dangerous enemy.
When he’d first learned that Vic was back he knew he had to get to him before he spoke to Tommy. The Ryans led him to Jack Stern and his own men, the network of villains and pushers secretly loyal to him and waiting for him to make his move, managed to trace Vic.
Abul had convinced him that the murderous attack on Sandra and the assault on Vic in jail had been carried out on the direct orders of Tommy Rifkind. But the truth of it was that it was Abul himself who’d decided to cut Vic out of their takeover bid and used the attacks to escalate the trouble for the Ryans. He’d wanted to bring the whole lot of them crashing down, as fast as he could. So he killed Sandra and Janine, and sent word to Belmarsh to top Vic. Tommy B was informed that Abul and his father wanted Lana and Sarah topped – Abul threw them in just to make things truly volatile. Tommy B was a simple soul. Didn’t believe in killing old ladies or grassing up his own family. Which was what Abul had relied upon.
He glanced in amusement at the man lolling beside him, a thin trail of spittle dribbling from the corner of his slack mouth on to the shoulder of his handmade suit. Vic would finish him tonight, and after that he was going after the Ryans in his bid to take over their drugs empire. When he’d done the dirty work Abul would step in and finish what he’d started six years before.
Benny was frantic. He had to alert Maura and the others to what Abul was doing. Part of him still couldn’t believe it. He had a pain in his heart like a knife was lodged there. Abul . . . the one person in this whole shitty world he’d thought he could rely on. But not any more. The lying scheming toerag was out to get everything the Ryans had. He had to let them know.
Benny looked at his old schoolfriend Jonny and said earnestly, ‘I’m going to beat you up so scream as loud as you can, right?’
Jonny shook his head in bemusement.
‘This is a joke, right?’
Benny walked towards him, shrugging. As he lifted one meaty fist he said in all seriousness, ‘No offence, Jonny.’
He was already screaming before the first blow landed, absolutely terrified of what was about to happen to him.
Tony Dooley Senior took a call on his mobile. He listened for a few moments and then said to the meeting, ‘Tommy has gone AWOL with Abul Haseem. We’re trying to track them down but they gave our boys the slip at the airfield. Abul’s not answering his mobile and he used an unknown driver for the pick-up – not one of ours. I hate to say this but it looks like he’s in with Tommy.’
Kenny Smith said quietly to Maura, ‘You must have had an inkling, surely?’
She shook her head, her face deathly white.
‘Not Abul. No, I don’t believe it. I looked after him since he was a kid. Him and Benny have been like brothers.’
Jack Stern snorted.
‘What brothers was that then – Cain and Abel? I’ve never trusted the fucking blacks . . .’
Tony Dooley Senior and his sons all stared at Jack and he remembered where he was and who he was with.
Maura’s voice cut like a knife.
‘You on a fucking death wish, Jack?’
Tony got up. He had taken all that he could. His sons got up with him, but they were trying to calm him down and Maura was grateful for that much.
‘Leave it out, Dad, he’s a piece of scum. Not here, Mrs Ryan’s in the kitchen. He’s not worth it, Dad.’
Maura and her brothers watched as they placated their father. Garry walked around the table and went out to the kitchen. He came back in with Leonie and Jack’s face was a picture as he stared at his one-time bedfellow.
‘Collect the glasses up, love, and bring in some more of me mother’s sandwiches, will you?’
Leonie hardly glanced at Jack as she did what she was bidden. After kissing Garry on the top of his head she waltzed from the room.
Maura knew the girl had enjoyed her little triumph and despite everything felt sorry for Jack.
Everyone helped themselves to more food. Finally a yawning Kenny Smith said, ‘Well, personally, I am for the off. Nothing will be resolved tonight now, will it?’
Maura stood up and Jack, looking at her, said seriously, ‘Where does this leave me?’
Maura sighed heavily. Was he blind? She was glad she had not chosen to live in the never-neverland that was cocaine.
‘It leaves you, Jack, in the capable hands of one of my oldest friends. We don’t need you any more, do we? You will tell Tony all we need to know.’ She looked at her old friend as she said, ‘Won’t he, Tone?’
Tony Dooley smiled at Maura and she smiled back. A friendship that spanned many years lay behind that smile, even Jack could see that.
‘After all, Jack, you were involved in a lot of the shit that happened, weren’t you?’
He knew then he was finished, there’d be no deal made; it was all over and his own greed had led to his downfall.
‘So that’s me fucked then, is it?’
Garry grinned.
‘I couldn’t have put it better meself, Jack.’
Jack watched them as they all got ready to leave. He tried to catch Kenny’s eye but his old pal wasn’t having any of it. He just wanted to go home to the little daughter who was the light of his life. Maura walked him to the front door.
‘Fancy a few hours in the park tomorrow with me and Alicia?’ he asked.
Maura grinned.
‘Why not? Not too early though, Kenny.’
‘I’ll ring you.’
She nodded.
‘What a night, eh? It will all be over soon, I expect, one way or another.’
‘I hope so, Maura. For all our fucking sakes.’
Vic was smiling like a man demented when Abul and his driver walked into Jack Stern’s barn carrying Tommy between them, his arms draped over their shoulders.
Vic clapped his hands, eyes twinkling with merriment and Class-A substances.
‘So it worked, Abul my son? You’re a cool customer, snatching him from under their noses. But what you done to him? He looks dead already.’
Abul knew he could talk his way out of this. Didn’t he always?
‘He got a bit antsy in the car, tried to make a run for it. I gave him a sedative to make him co-operate.’
Vic lifted one of Tommy’s eyelids and shook his own head reproachfully.
‘I wish you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to do that, I really do. I mean, if I’m working myself up to a killing spree I like to think my audience is still awake. Spoils the fun otherwise.’
He sounded genuinely aggrieved and once again Abul marvelled at his own bad luck. From Benny Ryan to Vic Joliff – why did he only ever seem to work with psychos?
He smiled in a conciliatory way. The sooner he could aim Vic at the Ryans, the sooner he could step in and claim the prize for himself.
‘Sorry, but you know how it is. Give a villain like Tommy half a chance . . .’
‘Oh, I do.’
Vic took a step back and slid his hand inside his jacket.
‘I certainly do. Which is why . . .’
He shot the driver through the eye. The man went down silently, too startled even to cry out. Abul tried to run but Tommy’s arm was still around his neck, the man’s dead weight bringing him to his knees. He rolled clear and was scrambling for the door when Vic shot him in the thigh. He rolled over on the dirt floor and held up his
hands.
‘What are you doing, man? We had an agreement . . .’
Vic walked towards him, looking genial.
‘We did indeed. You promised I could have the man responsible for my Sandra’s death and for this little bit of handiwork.’
He yanked at the collar of his shirt, revealed the livid necklace of scars beneath.
‘Did you really think you could pull the wool over my eyes, you jumped-up piece of scum!’
‘Vic, please, I can explain . . .’
Abul’s voice was at its most persuasive.
‘Leave it out!’ Vic snarled. ‘I ain’t your Loony Tunes Ryan kid, still wet behind the ears in villainy. I don’t believe the first load of old cod’s I’m told. Especially when it’s a soot doing the talking.
‘Mind, I had to go to a tin lid to get the real version, but Joe’s old time. I’d take his word over yours any day.’
Abul closed his eyes momentarily. It was his own fault for leaving that loose end. But the old man had been easily cowed and useful in swearing blind to Maura that Rebekka and her husband had died at the hands of the Russian Mafia. It had covered his tracks. If only his Belmarsh contact hadn’t screwed up, none of this would be happening.
He slid his hand down against his leg, surreptitiously feeling to see how bad the damage was. Vic lowered the gun.
‘Don’t worry, it’s only a flesh wound,’ he said. ‘When my mate Mickey gets here he’ll dress it for you. Always carries a First Aid kit, does Mickey. He says he only uses it when I’m around though.’
Abul felt a sense of dread creep over him.
‘What are you going to do to me?’
Vic scratched his head.
‘I’m still working on that one. First Mickey’s going to help me deal with laughing boy here.’ He waved the gun at Tommy, slumped on the ground. For a moment Abul almost felt relieved. He’d thought he might be in line for that treatment but it seemed Vic was still going to punish Tommy for going along with the plot even if it didn’t start with him.
‘You . . . well, I want to take me time over that. Come up with something truly memorable. Look at it this way, Abul. Your name will still go down in the history of villainy – no one will ever forget the way you died.’