“Bloody hell! You look different, mate.”
“I hope so.” I looked at myself in the rear view and then I leaned back into the head rest. “Couldn’t you get yourself a proper car?”
Mazza laughed.
“Nah, they were all out so I got this. Seriously though, with the government scrappage scheme I actually made money on getting rid of my shitty Mondeo!”
I laughed and then went straight in at the business.
“So when’s the drop going to be?”
Mazza didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied.
“I doubt it’ll be tonight. The money won’t be ready till the day after tomorrow but they’re going to be calling tonight. I want you there to try and get a line on them, so we know how to handle this.”
I nodded.
Mazza parked up in a side street near St Paul’s and we walked across Paternoster Square, through the tourists milling around the steps of the cathedral, to the Corney and Barrow wine bar. The place was three quarters empty and when a woman sitting at the bar nodded to Mazza I knew from the off that she was the client.
As we moved across the room towards her I got to check her out properly. I forgot all about ransoms, kidnapping and even, for a moment, about my two grand. Without the three inch red patent heels she still would have been as tall as me, tipping five ten, with most of her height in the long legs that stretched down from the bar stool. Black dress and a fistful of pearls at her throat. Her features, although clearly Asian, had a decidedly European caste to them. She had the kind of curves that made my mouth go as dry as the bar at a Muslim wedding; her skin was the colour of a well-made latte and her hair as black as the soul of an Old Street pimp. She stood as we approached and I could see behind the big lensed geek-chic glasses she wore that her eyes were red rimmed and puffy, although she had tried to hide the fact under a thick coating of dark make-up. She held her hand out to Mazza and gave the fat bastard a smile that made me want to trip him up and watch him fall on his big red face.
She looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“This is the guy I told you about, Miss Kaur – Charlie Constantinou.”
She held out her hand and had a firm grip when I shook it. All I could think about was how soft her skin was and the wave of perfume that hit me when she stepped in close. Toshak stepped to the bar and ordered a Martini for her, an orange juice for himself and a bottle of lager for me when I nodded to him. We moved away from the bar and the loud suits to a small table in a booth in the rear.
“Anything happened?” Mazza asked.
Jaz Kaur shook her head.
“Nothing, my father’s wife is acting just the same, the bitch. That man is still there with her.”
I looked at Mazza and he coughed.
“Friend of the family, apparently. A copper who’s been involved in some investments with Miss Kaur’s father.”
“Police?”
“Yes, a DI.”
I raised my eyebrows at that. If the family had a pet cop why the hell did they need Mazza – why did they need me? I thought on what Mazza had already told me, about the step mother, and I wondered whether or not there were two teams involved in trying to get the man back. Just what I needed.
“But you’ll be ready for the money drop?”
Her hand was on Mazza’s forearm. He gestured at me with his half empty orange juice.
“That’s why Charlie is here, perfect man for the job.”
Mazza smiled and sat back, Jaz’s eyes now on me. She nodded and then stared into her Martini. I looked over at Mazza.
“Time to go?”
He nodded and I finished the last of my bottle, I could feel the taste coming on like a crack head after his morning rock and wanted another beer but pushed the thoughts of a crisp frosty one to the back of my mind. Toshak led the way out and I brought up the rear. One of the suits let his eyes linger on Jaz and I tried to give him a proper screw face, I was feeling possessive, but he just laughed and turned away. A couple more drinks and I’d have probably tried to lump up his head.
Jaz climbed into the passenger seat and Mazza drove. I got in the back. What was I, Mazza Toshak’s sidekick? Still, two gees buys a lot of humility so I climbed in the back and kept my mouth shut.
We went back over Tower Bridge and along Jamaica Road towards Rotherhithe. As the car crawled through the traffic I got a good look into the kebab shop where I should’ve been working; old Tony was cleaning the counter like he wanted to wear a hole through the chrome and a couple of lads that Uncle Kris had shipped over from Cyprus stood smoking outside in their kitchen whites. Thank fuck, I thought and went back to trying to think of a way the two grand I’d have coming could keep me from ever having to go back to working there without sending me back to prison. I was still thinking when we hit Greenwich and then cut up towards Blackheath. Jaz turned around in her seat and threw a look my way.
“Nearly there. You’re the quiet type then?”
I pulled a pack of Bensons from my inside pocket and took one out. She was still looking at me.
“What are you, a dentist?”
“Huh?”
Yeah, sometimes I can be quite eloquent.
“Can you only take one out at a time?”
I caught her meaning and passed the pack forward.
“Oh come on, don’t smoke in the car, Charlie, you’ll knock the value down.”
“Like you don’t smoke in here, Maz. Drop the window, mate.”
I sparked my smoke and passed my clipper to Jaz, she smiled and lit her own.
“Thanks.”
She passed the pack back to me and I looked at her in the rear view mirror.
“No worries.”
What the fuck was I doing, flirting? The girl’s dad had been kidnapped and I was treating it like a first date. Well, I’m only human.
I always forget just how big Blackheath is and I stared out over the expanse as Mazza drove past the church and cursed. I just sat in the back and tried not to catch the scent off Jaz Kaur, I thought about the old legends of plague pits dotting the heath – if anything is better for deading your libido than putrid corpses then I’ve never thought of it.
“Fucksake. Never anywhere to park around here.”
“Just park in front of the house.”
I watched Mazza nod and then turn off the road into the gravel driveway of a three storey Victorian house that probably cost in the low seven figures. They climbed out and I followed, holding back like the good little sidekick.
I was surprised when Jaz knocked on the door. I thought she would have had a key. I watched her rocking back on her high heels. We must have waited for a good three or four minutes and with each passing second Jaz’s face twisted more and more into a mask of petulance and annoyance that bordered on rage.
The minutes ticked by and eventually a shadow appeared behind the frosted glass of the front door. It opened to reveal an Asian man, who I placed in his mid-forties. He was dressed smartly in jeans and a grey double breasted cardigan. He inclined his head at Toshak, eyed me for a moment and then looked at Jaz.
“You decided to turn up then?”
“As if I wouldn’t.”
“Your mother’s worried sick.”
“She’s not my mother.”
And with that Jaz pushed past him into the house. The man turned to Mazza and me.
“I suppose you’d better come in Toshak. Who’s this?”
Mazza pushed me forward.
“This is Mr. Constantinou. I think he’s the man to help us with the drop off.”
For a second anger flashed in the other man’s eyes.
“I thought it was settled that I’d arrange that?”
Mazza shook his head.
“That isn’t how Miss Kaur wants it and she’s the second signatory on the accounts – not you.”
The man nodded and moved to the side, as I passed he held out his hand to me.
“Jimmy Khan.”
I took the hand an
d he held mine tightly while he stared into my eyes. It was the old hand crushing trick, some people still seem to think it proves your manliness or something. I winced and then I grinned at him.
“Good to meet you, call me Charlie.”
He released my hand, unsure of whether or not he had won, and we stepped inside. The house was spacious and well lit. I could hear raised voices from behind one of the doors and followed as Jimmy Khan moved towards it.
“So you’re with the Met?”
He looked over his shoulder at me and shook his head.
“City of London Police, fraud squad.”
For a moment my mind shouted that he wasn’t a proper copper but I kept quiet. The City of London Police are a smaller force than the Met and control the Square Mile – business district cops, a bit of beat work and some financial crime squads like I said - not a proper copper.
“And you?” He asked “Another pet dick like Toshak?”
I shook my head.
“Freelance.”
“Charlie Constantinou.”
He said as though he were committing my name to memory. He’d be checking up on me, that was as obvious as a period in white panties. Let him check, I’d have to deal with that when it came up. Mazza knew what I’d done so I’d have to rely on him to have my back. Arrests going back a decade and three spells inside, let him look.
The arguing appeared to have stopped when we stepped into the living room. Jaz stood staring at the mantelpiece and a woman looking like an aging Bollywood-starlet, which I found out later is exactly what she was, sat in an armchair with her hand over her mouth. I stood off to the side and waited for something to be said. Toshak looked at me and stepped in close.
“Don’t worry, mate. It’s cooling down now – they’re always like this.”
The woman in the armchair looked up at me; her eyes were as puffed and swollen as Jaz’s and the look that she gave me was like a Hatton Garden jeweller would give to an uncertified diamond someone had brought in off the street.
“I understand you’re here to help Mr. Constantinou?”
I nodded and noticed that Jimmy Khan had positioned himself at the arm of the woman’s chair.
“Anything that I can do.”
I replied and then Toshak cut in and took up the conversation from there.
“We know what these lads want now. There are a lot of cases like this in London but if you’re willing to pay it should all be fine. I’ve brought Charlie in to deliver the ransom.”
“You should let me bring my colleagues in on this.”
That was Jimmy Khan. Jaz and her step mother both spoke at the same moment.
“No!”
I looked at Mazza who was checking his watch.
“Got somewhere to be Maz?”
He looked up sharply.
“They’re going to be calling in five minutes.”
The room went silent.
“Are you going to speak to them?” I asked him.
He nodded.
“That’s why I’m here, Charlie. I’ve dealt with these kind of people before.”
He looked at Jimmy Khan then.
“We get Mr. Singh back and then you can bring your boys in, so take as many notes as you like through all this. But my concern is getting him back – that’s it.”
Jaz nodded at that and again her step mother seemed to agree.
“Exactly. We let Jimmy bring his colleagues into this and then what’ll happen to dad?”
The phone on the side began to ring and Mazza held up his hand to silence us. He stepped forward and turned the phone to speaker.
“Hello?”
Four
Stanton didn’t bother to disguise his voice as he spoke.
“That Mario?”
“Yes, what do you want me to call you?”
Stanton thought for a moment
“Just call me Big Time. Have you got my money sorted out?”
“A hundred thousand pounds in cash is a lot for the family to get their hands on without attracting unwanted attention and I know you wouldn’t want that. Two more days and we will be ready for delivery.”
“If this is a trick...”
“It’s no trick, Big Time. We all want the same thing here. You want the money and I want to give you the money. It’s all just logistics on how we do it.”
“Okay. I’ll call in two nights time with instructions – y’understand?”
“Yes I understand, Big Time. Could we speak to Mr. Singh as a sign of good faith?”
“Go fuck yourself. Keep me waiting much longer and I might send you a piece of him though, as a sign of good faith like.”
Stanton killed the call. He looked at the phone in his hand and then took the SIM card out of the back. He snapped it in half and tossed it away onto the grass. He didn’t think that the family had called the police but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Stanton stood and got up from the bench, tower blocks surrounded him like the walls of a concrete canyon. A couple of kids on mountain bikes were watching Stanton and he gave them the eyeball straight back. He raised his chin and dared them to jump while he fingered the handle of the machete inside his coat. He walked out of the estate, crossed the road and jogged to another block of flats further along the road.
When he walked into the flat he shouted at Mook who lay on the sofa.
“I’m gonna need another SIM card, alright? In fact get me three.”
The big man nodded and went back to watching the TV. Eamon stood in the kitchen with Elissa, they stopped laughing when Stanton walked in.
“What’s happening?”
The white boy asked and Stanton inclined his head in response. Stanton could feel the beast inside his chest whispering to him. He threw a look at Eamon who raised his hands away from his sides, palms open, and backed out of the kitchen.
“We weren’t doin’ anything, bro.”
Stanton stared until the other boy had left and then turned his gaze to Elissa.
“What’re you doing?”
“He was just being nice.”
“Yeah?”
Stanton’s fist shot up and caught her just under the left breast and she folded like a pair of twos in a big money game.
“Is that nice?”
Elissa was on her knees struggling for breath when Stanton leant down, grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged.
“Watch yourself.”
He let go of her hair and she nodded. Stanton leaned in low and kissed her.
“That’s my girl.”
He stood up and grabbed three beers from the fridge and headed for the front room.
“It’s on.”
He said and passed the beers around. Eamon looked at him. Stanton smiled and thought of the machete hidden in his jacket, the beast whispering to him softly as he popped the ring pull on his lager.
Five
After the phone call you could have slashed the tension with a straight razor. The step mother disappeared into the kitchen to make coffee, Jaz and Mazza were talking in low tones in the corner and Jimmy Khan sat looking at me. I took out my pack of smokes and looked around for an ashtray.
“You can’t smoke in here.”
I looked up at Khan and then got up out of my seat. The others didn’t seem to be paying me any mind so I walked through to the kitchen.
Jaz’s stepmother stood in front of the kettle gripping the work top with both hands as though she were trying to snap it in two. She turned as I came in and I saw that her cheeks were wet with tears. I looked around, grabbed a sheet of kitchen roll and stepped in close. As I wiped her cheeks her eyes looked into mine.
“Are you really here to help Mr. Constantinou?”
“It’s Charlie and yeah, I’m here to get your husband back.”
She nodded and sniffed back a fresh wave of tears.
“Be careful around Jazmina, Charlie. Things tend not to go well when she’s around. But you seem like an honest man so I’ll have to trust you.”
&nbs
p; How the hell could she have told whether not I was an honest man, she’d known me for about five minutes. And she was wrong. I’ve been accused of being a lot of things in my life but honest? Never that.
“All I’m here to do is help.”
I found the key to the back door and unlocked it. I sparked a Benson and something made me look around. Jaz stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a look on her face that I couldn’t read. I took another step into the garden and she came outside to me. I passed her my cigarette and lit another. We didn’t say a word we just stood smoking and looking up at what stars we could see through the haze of light pollution that glowed above the city.
“I love my dad, you know.”
I stayed quiet guessing that she wanted to talk, not have a conversation – a lot of people can’t tell the difference between the two.
“When I was thirteen he sent me away to a boarding school in Scotland.” She paused. “I didn’t mind. It was for my own good, and his. A teenage girl can be a handful for a single dad especially for a man like my father. I suppose I was just too old for him to handle.”
I looked at her and then spoke.
“What happened to your mother?”
“That woman is not...”
“No, not her. Your real mother.”
“Oh.”
She stopped and looked at me before she replied.
“She died.”
Then she looked away and flicked her cigarette out into the garden. The ember glowed in the dark for a moment and then faded into the blackness. When I looked back at her she was already halfway back to the house. I lit another cigarette and waited until Mazza came out to me.
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