‘Maybe, but Heracles is a dangerous man, the Yardies’s plans aside. There was more than the one reason he was sent down to Kingsland. The man has a short fuse.’
‘You would know’ Red replied, causing John to look away almost remorseful.
‘The Yardies have been hand-bagging with Kane’s boys for years. Molar’s been relatively restrained considering. I’m thinking Kane is using the petty drug-beefs as a diversion for his exit.’
‘You think his exiting?’ John asked curious.
‘He’s terrified of the Serbians. That eastern European mafia gives even me the willies.’
‘I doubt it, Kane always has backing. And he wants the whole town’s real estate in his pocket before he exits.’
‘Sounds like you know more than I do.’ Red admitted.
‘Something’s coming. People in the capital are growing impatient.’ John stated, leaning back in his seat as Abi dropped a pint and a packet of crisps each in front of them. ‘Thank you.’ John said with a pleasant smile. Red gave her a semi-appreciative look. ‘Frank’s going to do whatever suits Frank, that’s guaranteed. And now with Que Pasa in the mix, whatever’s coming, I don’t want Indy in the mix. I’m here to keep him and a few others out.’ John explained, sipping the foam of his poorly poured beer.
‘I hate to say this, but you know that you being here might escalate things.’ Red confessed.
‘Maybe.’
‘I’m probably overthinking this, but Frank seems quite self-assured in regards to his safety. Like he has another backer we don’t know about. Outside of the city, maybe.’
‘Who knows.’ John said, brushing Frank’s activities aside.
Red saw an opportunity to tease and change the topic.
‘And you haven’t stalked the lady since you’ve been back?’
‘Don’t Red’ John replied pretending to be unamused.
‘I’m just saying, that woman has only got finer with age, your absence is like an anti-ageing cream.’ Red poked. John gave him an up and down look.
‘Clearly.’
‘You know Toby Razz is in town?’ Red announced, now rapidly switching topics. John’s face dropped. He would have responded enraged if anyone else but Red had informed him of the news.
‘What? When?’
‘Mike said he spotted him in the suburbs at a service station. Had a few vans with him. Might be starting a manufacturing gig down here, the city always needs more cooks.’
‘Fuck sake, well let’s keep an eye on that. Frank and Tobias are the last two fuckers I want in a room together.’
‘I hear ya. So will you be needing any favours on your quest to survey and disrupt the criminal kingdom?’
‘Can I borrow your car?’ John said somewhat hopeful.
✽
Exhausted from an intensive fight class, Indy dumped his gym bag by his feet, taking a seat in a coffee house which faced out to a road of shops. He rotated his hand, his wrists were red from two hours of grappling. It was nothing in comparison to the artwork on his cheek which was now finally starting to subside.
A recently acquired purple Brazilian Ju-Jitsu belt in hand, he felt triumphant. Three years of hard work paying off.
Looking out the window onto the quiet city lane which was decorated with small boutiques and independent merchants. A black limousine pulled up to the curb. Indy immediately registered it as Kane’s vehicle from the news broadcast this morning. To his slight unease, Goldmolar exited the car first, scoping the road. Indy wasn’t sure if he should make himself scarce or watch on as any other innocent person would. He felt like he was on a naughty list, if only by the associations of his family. Isaac Kane stepped out of the vehicle. His entrance always grandiose, even with no one around. He wasted little time in entering the tailors a few yards or so from the car. Indy couldn’t help but watch on, he hadn’t seen the man in person for several years.
Molar scanned the area and its venues a second time. Seeing if anyone had taken an over-enthusiastic pry into Kane’s arrival. As his scan reached the cafe, he caught Indy’s worried expression. A deer in headlights looking back at him. Staring at each other for a second. Molar gave him an arcane smile and then to Indy’s dread. Began to take several steps towards the coffeehouse. As he did so, Kane re-appeared holding several garment bags.
‘Gordon, let’s go.’ he ordered with authority and little patience. Molar halted and slowly with an air of disobedience returned to the vehicle. Giving Indy one final look.
Indy worried whether John was onto something and that maybe Frank had put them on a blacklist once more. As the car sped off, Indy felt a strange coldness run through him. A fleeting feeling which overwhelmed his consciousness. Steering his mind to travel back in time.
✽
In a torrential downpour on a dark autumn night. James Vinyar held the steering wheel tightly as he drove his sons, Indy and John home from the rugby club. The street-lamps smothered the windows of his Mercedes in a warm yellow-orange colouring that tinted the faces of all inside. John, at eighteen years of age, sat in the passenger seat next to his father. While fourteen-year-old Indy sat feet up in the back, reading a school textbook. James, in his mid-forties, peered through the window in front, trying to keep a visual of the lane markings ahead. A handsome man with a pensive stare his boys inherited. He studied his eldest, who had his head down on his phone, admiring pictures sent to him from a new fling.
‘What’s her name?’ James asked, causing John to lock his phone.
‘Whose name?’
‘The enthusiastic girl you can’t ignore on that thing.’
‘Grace.’ John revealed, making it clear he was not divulging further. Sensing this, James shifted his focus to Indy who was trying to avoid eye contact with his old man. Having been made to study in the car while the others enjoyed the club this wet evening.
‘Indy just because you’re scoring high on your exams. Doesn’t excuse you from scrapping with kids at school.’
‘It’s not my fault. Tom was getting beaten up. I couldn’t walk away.’
‘You can walk away when it’s you and not Tom getting letters home warning of expulsion.’ James warned.
James wasn’t condoning the bullying of other children. He just had high hopes for Indy. John was, in essence, a carbon-copy of himself, something James both loathed and appreciated. Frank was too much of a troublemaker ever to prosper by the book. But Indy, Indy was his family’s golden ticket to future generations living a far more legitimate and peaceful life than the one he had led. He wanted Indy to be brave, defiant and strong, but he also needed him to submit to the system at times. If only to play it at its own game, coming out rich and on top. ‘Indy I understand that you want to do the right thing, help out your buddies, but there is a price. Scrapping in the corridors of the science department isn’t going to make things better. You need to pick your battles, know when to fight and when to step back. If a man is twice your size and weight, change the game. Throwing punches isn’t the only way to scare bullies.’ He advised. About to continue his lecture, John tapped him on the arm, nodding to his wing mirror.
‘What do you mean throwing punches isn’t the only...’ Indy asked, only to be shushed by his father who scanned both the rear-view and wing mirror. Observing a vehicle behind them.
The rain continued to plummet down as the car reached a series of speed bumps. As the car behind travelled over a bump. Its fog-lights hit James’s rear-view mirror, causing a sharp reflective light to hit him jarringly in the eyes. John took to his wing-mirror once more. Hoping the light would fall in a way he could catch a glimpse of the passengers travelling behind them. As both cars simultaneously descended from their respective bumps. John could for a split-second see four men sitting inside the vehicle tailgating them.
‘Four of them.’ he informed, keeping an eye on the mirror view. As the light broke once more. He saw a man he knew of similar age, Isaac Kane, sitting in the front passenger seat. John turned to his father, realis
ing what the current moment represented.
‘Dad. It’s time.’ He announced, causing James to look forward uneasy, a man lost in a thousand calculations.
‘Check the glove box.’ James replied, looking for a lay-by or a freeway exit.
‘It’s too early.’ John complained as he confirmed a gun in cargo.
‘John, focus. Remember what we talked about.’ James said with a stiff-upper-lip. John nodded in agreement before turning to see an out-of-sorts Indy. Who looked back perplexed at them both. James saw an empty car park ahead and pulled into it.
‘Where are we going?’ Indy enquired. They both ignored him. James slowed to a full stop, watching the trailing car mimic his manoeuvre. Pulling up twenty or so yards behind them. Indy turned to observe out of the rear window. ‘Who are they?’ He again asked. James watched the four men exit the car. Their appearances masked in silhouettes from the lights behind them.
‘We could call Louis or Felix, Dad. This doesn’t have to happen now.’
‘Yes, it does.’ James murmured in defeat, unfastening his seatbelt. ‘Indy’ he called, causing his youngest to turn back to him. ‘Don’t listen to what I say you can and can’t do son. Read the books, push it as hard as you can. It’s yours.’ he commanded, quickly exiting the car, slamming the door behind him.
‘Where is he going?’ Indy asked anxiously. John remained silent, leaning back into his seat, observing from his mirror. ‘John?’
‘Shut up Indy.’ John ordered. Indy turned back to the rear window, watching his father walk towards the group. As James made his way closer, a leading individual came to meet him. Indy couldn’t see the face beneath the shadow, only a dark figure standing before his father. Muted by the rain and the two car’s resting engines, he watched as the two shadows conversed, circling one another.
‘John, what is going on? Who is that?’ he implored. John kept silent. Seeing no result to his pleading, Indy turned back to the group of men, still in their silhouette form. Now four instead of five with his father lost amongst them. Indy rubbed the condensation off the glass. To his horror, he saw what looked to be his father laying broken on the floor of the car park’s gravelled terrain.
‘Dad’s hurt, John let’s go!’ Indy ruptured. John calmly climbed over the gear stick and into the driver’s seat. Indy though a child, was a strategist, and he had already conceived a plan. ‘Right, pull up next to him, I will pull him into the back here.’ He schemed.
Finishing the instruction, he heard the door-locks shutter inwards, locking the car. ‘John?’ he murmured as his older brother initiated the engine. ‘You’ve locked the doors.’ Indy stated, feeling the rumble of the engine and the wheels beneath him begin to revolve. ‘John? What are you doing?’ Indy alarmingly questioned his brother. John ignored him once more, a tear erupting from his right eye as he concentrated on the road ahead. Shifting the gear stick into second as he pulled away onto the freeway. Indy threw himself forwards towards John, ‘What are you doing, we can’t leave Dad!’ John swung his right fist over his shoulder, catching Indy. The single punch knocking the boy out cold.
The car was now silent except for the rain which was growing more and more violent. John took one last glimpse at the five men he left behind, his father amongst them. Into third and then fourth gear, he sped away from the scene, his comatose brother in tow.
Chapter Seven
Tobias Razz was a gifted chemist. An ever-in-demand manufacturer of bespoke narcotics that many criminals kept on speed dial. He had left Kingsland to escape both his debts and the rumours of his activities on the dark web.
He felt it strange to return once more, even stranger that someone would sponsor him to do so. He and his allies had ambitions for the city, and he surveyed a plot of land that sat on its outskirts.
An attractive boyish man with groomed features. A girlfriend had once called him the Mediterranean James Dean, a label that went straight to his head.
On the far eastern outskirts of the city, surrounded by empty fields and the Iron Sea river basin to one edge. A desolate and abandoned factory laid dormant hugging the coastline. Originally purchased as an incubation hub for manufacturers moving to the city. Isaac Kane had long lost interest in the project, leaving it to rust. A good few miles between it and all other life or industry. It was often a haven for squatters and other hopeless individuals.
Late night, almost early morning. The countryside rested in darkness until Razz and company arrived in two large vans. Each with bright, bold headlamps that shot through the peaceful scenery. Arriving at the semi-weeding car park. Razz was keen to get his feet on solid ground, leaping out of the first vehicle.
His men scouted the facility as he watched on, opening and closing his Zippo lighter in a repetitive loop. He turned to his number two, Benny. A stereotypical-looking sidekick. Giving him the nod to begin unloading their cooking apparatus. Several men, more academic in appearance than thuggish, started to open and unpack the vans. Benny lingered by his boss.
‘Are you sure about this? All it takes is one check-up from Kane’s men, and we’re toast.’ Benny worried.
‘It’s fine. It’s all been arranged. Our partner’s got good ties with Mads.’ Razz informed as he made his way to the main locked doors, kicking a rusted padlock that crumbled to pieces.
‘It’s going to need some renovation.’ Benny observed.
‘You think?’ Razz replied. ‘Get the boys to it. You’ve got plenty of time, and there are more hands if necessary.’ Razz explained, leaving Benny to his resources.
‘What about the Yardies, Razz?’ Benny shouted to him. Razz didn’t turn back, continuing his casual wander into the darkness.
‘As I said, it’s been arranged.’
✽
It was an impulsion, a shameful impulsion, that incentivised John to borrow Big Red’s range rover. Parked on the opposite side, thirty yards from Grace’s house as he stalked her from afar. He had tried these last few days to resist the voyeuristic activity. Distracting himself with Frank’s ongoing enterprises and Indy’s movie collection. But her image plagued him, and the only vaccine was to see her in person. From the first night that he crept over the back gate, watching her dinner party from the back door. He wanted nothing more than to be inside that warm, loving house. A place he once called his own.
But he knew he was beyond redemption. Instead opting to study her curves, encased in shadow as they flickered passed the bedroom window. He kept his eyes on the frame, hoping for a reprise. With no luck, he started the engine and nudged the car forward. Shutting the motor off when he sat parallel to the house’s front. Her form returned, now perfectly framed through the net curtain of the lounge window. She lifted her arms above her head, tying her hair back. Lost in a voyeuristic stare. John clocked movement through his peripheral, a man moving towards the house. Knowing the identity of the individual, he ducked down at breakneck speed.
‘Oh. Fuck. Off.’ He moaned almost silent to himself. For the exuberant and determined Frank walked down the front passageway. Oblivious to his brother’s reconnaissance behind him. John’s forehead and eyes rose from the bottom of the car window like a turtle peeking from its shell. Frank knocked on the front door with an enthusiastic rhythmic beat. John felt his insides tangle up as a disturbing thought crept into his mind. ‘Please, no.’ he whispered, as the front door opened with a ready-for-bed Grace standing under the door frame. Her facial expression was hard to distinguish from John’s distance, their conversation inaudible to him.
‘What are you doing here Frank? I thought we sorted this?’ She said with a tired, grumble.
‘I locked myself out of my place. I can’t get hold of the building manager until the morning.’
‘So you want to crash here?’ she said, unamused.
‘On the sofa, you won’t hear a peep out of me.’ he insisted.
‘Wishful thinking in the extreme.’ She replied, opening the door to him. Frank walked in as John denied his brother’s every step.
‘No, no, no. Don’t shut the door, don’t shut the door.’ He commentated as Grace closed the world out of her and Frank’s affairs. John threw his fist deep into the leather of the car’s interiors.
Inside the house. Grace escorted Frank to the sofa. Pointing to the blankets neatly folded and piled on the far arm.
‘Cheers for this, are you going to bed or do you wanna chill for a bit?’
‘I’m pretty tired.’ she said, retreating to the staircase.
‘Yeah, me too. A cuppa and then we’ll hit the sack.’ He said, jogging to the kitchen. She sighed, rolling her eyes back, reversing into the lounge. About to take a seat, she heard the chiming and clanging of crockery banging together. She jumped up, motivated by the image of her grandmother’s chinaware taking hits.
‘I’ll make them Frank. You wait in the lounge.’
‘Okie dokie.’ he replied, a grin on his face as he entered the living room, removing his top, revealing his chiselled torso. He pulled out his phone from his jeans, a text from an unknown number read: COMING TO HOUSEWARMING?
He threw the phone aside, smiling to himself as he continued to disrobe.
With a rain shower brewing outside, John exited the car and stealthily jogged to the lounge window for a better analysis of proceedings. Reaching it, he saw an excited and topless Frank getting comfortable.
‘Son of a’ he muttered to himself before ducking as a passing car’s lights hit the back of his head. Grace called out to Frank, asking him how he took his tea. With the road cleared. John returned to his viewpoint, now absent of both his brother and the homeowner.
Frank walked into the dining area with a posture that complimented his toned abdomen. Grace saw through it, immediately pouring her tea into the sink.
‘I’m going to bed. Goodnight Frank.’ she announced to his disappointment.
Outside, John circled the building and jumped up against the fence, peeking over to give the back garden a quick assessment. To his aggravation, Grace had placed several large garden pots at the bottom of the path next to the back gate.
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