Fangsters

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Fangsters Page 13

by Matt Drabble


  He was deep in thought and oblivious to the world around him as was his way, he did not hear the men approach stealthily, and he did not hear the sudden onrush of pounding feet as they pounced. The sack was over his head and blocking all light before he could move, and his world was plunged into dark sensory deprivation. Strong arms grabbed his, and he was forcefully yanked off of his feet. Suddenly he was propelled violently forward and felt himself land on what must be an expensive car’s back seat judging by the real leather smell. He knew better than to struggle, he had no sight and his arms were pinned on either side as the two powerful grips took hold. The car door slammed shut, and they were mobile, all in silence and all in darkness. He knew that if he were Sherlock Holmes in the movies he would be able to map his journey by the sounds and telltale bumps in the road, but this was real life and he would have to wait until their arrival. It mattered not about the theatrics, he knew of only one man that would dare to snatch a senior police detective off the streets during daylight hours, Jimmy. He had heard rumours for months now about the state of the empire, but Ghost had always been non-committal whenever he had pressed the subject. Rybeck was only too aware of Jimmy’s attitude towards failure; the man would cut your face off with a smile if his desert was late. Rybeck knew that his future was intertwined with that of Jimmy and Ghost. He was not naive enough to think that he could ever walk away from their arrangement. The word from the Serious Organized Crime Agency was that there was a new player in town. Jimmy’s crew, under Ghost’s direction, had been seeking to move into legitimacy for several years now. However, the unglamorous Economic Crime Command reported that there was a major movement in the finances of Jimmy’s organization. The legitimate side of Jimmy’s business was never considered within the department to be of much interest. Their focus was to nail Jimmy on his criminal activities before he disappeared into retirement.

  The car came to a sudden halt and the doors were flung open, Rybeck was jerked out into the late afternoon, he was frogmarched forwards over rough gravel and rotting odours. His feet stumbled over debris and waste littering the ground, and he knew where he was. Jimmy owned a collection of disused warehouses near the docks. He’d obtained them by first offering protection, then burning most of them down. The city council was supposedly about to offer him large grants to redevelop the area into luxury apartments. He felt the atmosphere change as they went inside; next he was forced into a rickety chair that groaned worryingly under his weight, but held.

  “Detective, so good of you to join us” Jimmy’s unmistakable voice rang out passing for humour.

  The hood was whipped off Rybeck’s head, he coughed and blinked against the fading light “Jimmy, what the fuck is this?” he growled.

  “I thought that it was about time you learned your place” Jimmy announced.

  Rybeck looked around the warehouse interior; it was one of the few buildings that still held a roof over its head, the walls were crumbling, and the area was deserted. The first thing that Rybeck noticed was that Ghost was not here, this fact alone, made him suddenly very nervous. Jimmy’s companions were a collection of two large sullen men with broad blank faces and glassy eyes that looked devoid of intelligence, looking only to be filled with direction, he recognized only one giant, Eddie.

  Rybeck had only ever had limited dealings with Jimmy, most of his meetings were with Ghost, subtle assignations with decorum and respect. Jimmy’s reputation was legend, and Rybeck was only too aware of the man’s instability. The fact that they were in an abandoned location far from prying eyes all because he’d had the temerity to hang up on the man was testament to his obvious volatility. He quickly calculated that his odds were not good, and that despite his growing anger, it would serve no good in this situation. He’d checked his police credentials at the door when he joined the payroll.

  “I think that we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here Jimmy” he offered, hoping to strike the right note between contrition and strength as he guessed that Jimmy could smell weakness on his prey. “If you wanted to talk then you only had to ask, dragging me away from the investigation isn’t going to help anyone”

  “Who’s behind it Rybeck, that’s what I want to know, you’re supposed to be our eyes and ears on the inside, and right now you’re giving us shit” Jimmy was circling the chair, a predator on the prowl preaching to his congregation. His voice rose in volume and intensity as he paced. “Maybe it’s time that we retired you and found ourselves a more productive replacement”

  “For Christ’s sake Jimmy, is this the way that you’re doing things now” Rybeck couldn’t help himself, Jimmy was making him nervous, and he hated the emotion “Is this the way things are done when Ghost’s not around?”

  In a flash Jimmy was on him, a flash of sparkling light bounced off the cutthroat razor’s wicked blade but it was the light that sparkled in Jimmy’s eyes that scared him more.

  “JIMMY” Eddie’s voiced suddenly roared in frightened desperation.

  Rybeck’s heart froze in his chest and time stood still as he waited to see if Eddie’s voice penetrated through Jimmy’s madness. The blade pressed into his throat, the cold sharp steel dimpled his flesh, and he could feel a thin trickle of blood run free. Jimmy’s face was millimetres from his and he could smell the crazy flowing in waves, it was stale and foul at such close distance. Slowly Jimmy’s eyes began to clear and reason returned, a smile danced across his face, and he stepped back.

  “I think I’ve made my point boys” Jimmy proclaimed magnanimously “He damn near shit himself” he laughed good-naturedly.

  Rybeck was not fooled by the sudden u-turn, Jimmy would have slit his throat there and then and damn the consequences, if Eddie had not yelled out when he did.

  “Just remember who you work for detective, you jump when I say and you come when I whistle, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve more urgent matters to attend to” Jimmy dismissed.

  Rybeck sat stone still as the entourage filed out, only Eddie paused to look back at him, he hoped that he had communicated his gratitude, but the giant face was often impossible to read. He had often seen Eddie in the past as he had always accompanied Ghost whenever they’d met. He felt guilty now for dismissing the giant as slow and impaired. He waited until the sounds of the engines had comfortingly faded into the distance before he dared to stand. His legs shook unsteadily as he walked out into the dusk, he knew now that the legends of Jimmy were true, the man was dangerously unstable. It was clear to him that Ghost was indeed the brains behind the organization, without a steady hand, then Jimmy was a mad dog. It was also clear that he needed to get to the bottom of the attempt on Ghost’s life, as it was in everyone’s best interests that nothing happened to him. A world with Jimmy running loose and wild was a very frightening prospect indeed.

  Jess swallowed her fear and swallowed it hard, she knew from her experience with men such as this, that they were jackals, any weakness on her part would result in her being torn to pieces. The icy blade at her throat chilled her veins; the hand was rock steady and expert. His voice was relaxed and calm as though this was the most natural activity in the world.

  Her car was parked by the curb but perilously close to a side alley that looked deserted and dangerously witness devoid. Her first instinct after recognizing his emerging face in the rear view mirror, had been to feign ignorance, to treat him as a potential carjacker. However, his eyes were too knowing, too full of intelligence for her to even bother with a deception. He was obviously here for a reason and if he was, then his knowledge of her was to be determined.

  “Just who the hell do think you are?” She demanded, her fear fuelling her anger.

  “I think you know a large part of who I am” his voice deadpan. “The question is why?”

  “I don’t know what you mean; you’re the one in my car with a knife at my throat, just who the hell do you think I am?” She challenged.

  “Jessica Kyle, thirty four, ex reporter from the Globe, you live in Oakdale, two parents, no
siblings, no kids, no current boyfriend. You left your job a little over three years ago to pursue a private project that you keep close to your average sized chest” he paused for effect. “You’ve spent most of your savings and now Daddy’s filling in the gaps. I know that you’re careful and intelligent, you’ve poked and pried around the edges of my life without ever falling fully into view, until now”

  Jess allowed herself a small sigh of relief as the threat at her throat receded, and Ghost’s face eased away into the shadows of the rear seats. Her confidence was returning in droves, if he’d meant to kill her then she would be dead already; there would be no need for the James Bond villain pontificating. She had always prided herself on her self-control, and her ability for self-reliance, this man had invaded her personal space and scared her badly. She spun angrily in her seat to face him, determined to regain some semblance of the higher ground. “You fucking shaved ape, you think that you can intimidate me, you think that I’m going to scare away like some fucking child?” His amused face only succeeded in making her fume harder. “Just who the hell do you plastic gangsters think you are? You see, you want, you take, but you never earn do you?” She saw that he still held the knife but was past caring, she had watched these men for three years steal their way to prosperity and power, whilst she relied on handouts from her father. She had walked away from a promising career due to their influence. She had wanted to launch an investigation at the Globe, but that had been taken away from her. She knew deep down that a lot of her anger stemmed from her own arrogance. She had assumed that her investigation would be swift and successful and would lead to a triumphant jealousy ridden return. Instead, it was three years down the line and she was nowhere, sitting in her own invaded car being threatened by one of them. “I’m so damn sick and tired of watching you people take whatever the hell you want whilst other people have to pay the price” she continued “What gives you the right huh? What gives you the right to live off the misery of good people?”

  “You finished?” he asked absently.

  “No” she paused, realizing that she probably was.

  “Lady, I do what I do, it’s how I was made, I don’t believe in any of the nature vs. nurture bullshit. I grew up without parents in a shit hole, but I still understand the concept of right and wrong, it’s just never felt that important to me” Ghost’s voice was deadpan.

  She watched him lean back and take a deep breath as though he was unaccustomed to making long speeches or outwardly expressing emotions.

  “You know the tale of the scorpion and the frog?” He asked, not waiting for a reply before continuing. “The scorpion wants the frog to take him across the river on his back, but the frog refuses as he thinks that the scorpion will sting and kill him. The scorpion assures him that this won’t happen as they’d both drown, eventually the frog agrees but halfway across the river he feels a sharp stab and realizes that the scorpion has stung him. As they both begin to sink and drown, he asks the scorpion why, the scorpion simply replies it’s my nature”

  “So let me guess, you’re the frog and life’s the scorpion?” she asked.

  “No, I’m the scorpion, my nature is my nature” he added almost wistfully. “Oh and by the way, contrary to popular belief, our business is actually damn hard work”

  Jess watched this strange enigma of a man as the evening took hold outside and the car interior darkened. He spoke with elegance and authority, and his manner was calm and almost detached. He sat back into the limited comfort of the rear seating. His eyes looked tired she observed, as his attention seemed to drift. She had followed his life and looked deeply into his past for over three years and could still not find a handle on him. He was dangerous and calculating, his business caused untold misery for the innocent around him, but he had never seemed to take pleasure from his work. She had witnessed the likes of Jimmy revel in their power and violence of their industry, but this man appeared merely to work there. Suddenly he shot up alert, his eyes wide and bright flicking from side to side out of the windows and into the darkness beyond.

  “DRIVE!” he barked “DRIVE!”

  He slammed a fist into the back of her seat to emphasize the point, his sudden spark into life had startled her, and there was again that look of fear in his face. It was less than the photo that she had taken when Eddie had been banging on his door, as though he was getting a handle on whatever it was that had scared him the first time. Her shaking hands slipped on the keys that hung from the ignition, her fingers gripped and tightened then twisted. The car engine roared into life as she pumped the accelerator with an adrenaline infused foot. Her fear of the man in her back seat was now itself taking a back seat to whatever it was that had spooked him. She peeled away from the curb in a gravel dust cloud leaving the side alley behind them. She observed Ghost behind her, his attention drawn towards the alley that they had left behind.

  Ghost watched the alley disappear into the distance, his instincts were screaming, and he never ignored them, especially when they were so loud. There was danger there; something in the shadows had gotten close, way too close. He silently cursed himself for allowing his defences to slip so low, he had meant to hopefully put a scare into the reporter in order to push her away. However, she was living up to her reputation, he had known of her for the last year or so. She had been pushing to find information on him for some reason. He knew that he had been meticulous in his desire for anonymity over the years, and he flew well enough below the radar that he left no paper trail to be followed. Jimmy hogged the limelight gleefully, whether it was during a trial or a charity ball; he drank the attention in great greedy gulps and was never sated. There had of course been the occasional interested party over the years. The odd cop or journalist, but his sources had always informed him whenever anyone was sniffing too closely, and the interested parties were soon either transferred or relocated. But Ms Kyle had come out of left field mainly because she was not affiliated with anyone. She had been self-financed, and she had been good, never pushing too hard or in the wrong places. He had admired her from afar; she was no threat to him until she had latched onto Eddie. Her powers of persuasion must have been something to land a fish like Eddie. He knew that the big man would die before rolling over on him and yet she had extracted with a surgeon’s precision several juicy titbits from him. The only slip had been when Eddie had written her name and telephone number on his arm. He had nagged Eddie for years about the habit, but for once, he was glad that he had never broken the big man of it. It had not taken more than a morning armed with a first name and phone number to have her whole life spilling out before him. His contacts were vast and expansive, he’d learnt about her at school, university, her job at the Globe, her finances, her credit history and her love life. Everything and everyone in Eagleport was an open book if you could afford the index.

  He waited until the car slowed at the red light at the junction, “Don’t look for me anymore Jessica” he stated, “Too many others are in the hunt at the minute and you wouldn’t want to get caught in the crossfire”

  “The Parkers?” she asked.

  “You are definitely too clever for your own good” he answered with a sigh. “It’s not my place to keep your welfare in mind lady, but Eddie likes you. Seeing you splattered on the pavement would ruin his day and he can be such a sulky sod at times” he continued slightly perturbed by this seeming desire to open up to a stranger. “It’s not the Parkers, it’s something else”

  “Something not someone? What’s got you so scared Abraham, what’s got the great and terrible Ghost running for cover?”

  “Because there’s something worse out there now, something worse than me” with that he was gone, slipping out the door and lost into the night.

  Alfred Whisker checked the doors and windows again, rattling them hard against the dark night outside, his electrical shop had been closed for several hours, but he had been disturbed from his flat above. All evening he had felt uneasy, ever since he had locked up for the ni
ght he could not shake an impending feeling of doom.

  He had owned, and operated business’ in Eagleport for over four decades, he had seen the area change, from poverty to prosperous and back again. He owned several properties around the Fresh Haven district, some were businesses, some were private lettings, and all were profitable. He had watched the ownership of Fresh Haven change hands from Bennett Drake to Jimmy Dent, the transition had been smooth, and things had improved since the switch. The neighbourhood was unquestionably safer under the new regime, random crime was down, and perpetrators were dealt with harshly. The small vicious unorganized gangs that congregated in other areas of the city were not permitted here. Under Drake his contributions to the Eagleport Improvement Society had been collected without fail, but the results were negligible. Under Jimmy the monies were collected with equal gusto, but the management of Fresh Haven was greatly enhanced. He had suffered only one break in since coming under new management and Jimmy himself had returned his property personally.

  He shone the heavy duty powerful torch around the shop floor again; there were no signs of a break in. No sign of any damage or anything missing, no sign of anything at all out of place. With a sigh he headed back up through the door marked private and up the narrow staircase into his flat above. At sixty three, he was no longer a young man, but still felt far from the grave. He walked back into his dark flat; he paused by the door puzzled, thinking that he was sure that he had left the light on. Suddenly powerful hands shot out of the darkness dragging him in and down, and he realized that he was a lot closer to the grave than he had previously thought.

 

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