Throwing the pepperoni in the back of Betsy I followed his Vauxhall Astra at a distance. We weaved in and out of the traffic, Bosley going deliberately slow, making sure I stayed near him. He didn’t want to lose me. He didn’t need to worry. I was well acquainted with the station Bosley worked in. So well, in fact, that I could tell you what the canteen served on Wednesdays.
I cut down a back street and lost Bosley. I know it’s childish, but I couldn’t help it. I flew down another road, down an alley way, up another road, a few more turns and arrived a full five minutes before he did. He got out of his car and gestured me inside, saying nothing.
Bosley escorted me into one of the interview rooms. I was stuck in there for about two hours giving my statement explaining what had happened.
It was overcast by the time I left. Dark clouds were forming in the sky. A storm was brewing. A heavy feeling tinged the air. I had the feeling I was going to get drenched. I got back into Betsy and turned the engine. As always she started first time, but it didn’t feel as good as it usually did.
What had happened was playing on my mind: the gunman, Longy, his ghastly gaze. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if I’d got there earlier. Would he still be breathing, or would I be dead? Maybe I could have saved him if I’d driven faster, not gone shopping, not bought that bastard pepperoni that was still stinking out my car.
I was letting my mind twist itself up on the ifs: the ifs were unlimited, the whats were few. I knew that nothing could be changed.
I pulled up outside my place and trudged into my flat. Weary and heartbroken I heaved myself into the bath and fell asleep. I really wanted to stay indoors and not leave again. But even with Puglia's money, I knew I still had to go out that evening and steal a chicken.
Wednesday 8:00 p.m.
I woke at eight, still in the bath. The water had turned cold and I was shaking. What little sleep I’d had was troubled. Longy’s horrified face had played a prominent part in it, along with the cowboy hat and Bosley. I got dressed: old jeans, trainers and a large woolly jumper. I still had an appointment for the evening. I didn’t really feel up for it, but felt even less inclined to stay at home and dwell on my own thoughts. I didn't even want to see Tabatha, who was pissed with me at the very least. But reluctantly I jumped in Betsy and headed to Soho to see Leon.
Leon owned a club in the West End: a cabaret and comedy number, which I’d helped set up, getting hold of the stock, decorators, alcohol licences, all the required paperwork that Leon said he needed. I also put some of my own money into it, not a major stake, just enough to get me twenty per cent. Leon at the time was a bit short and I for once was a bit flush, so I jumped in. It was the best move I ever made. It had been keeping me alive for months.
Leon had given me a bell and asked if I knew anybody that needed some work … which, by coincidence, coincided with a call from Tabatha asking if I knew of any jobs floating around. It was a pure Wolfy moment: want and need. Obviously there wasn't any Wolfy tax. But getting Tabatha's brother Boom-Boom working for Leon was by far reward enough. I'd woken that morning absolutely relishing seeing Leon; it was to be the highlight of my day. Now I was dreading it.
I pulled up across the road. Tabatha and Boom-Boom were standing outside; Tabatha smoking and Boom-Boom pacing frantically. As soon as he saw me he came racing across.
‘Wolfy, I'm not being ungrateful but are you sure this is all that's about?’
‘Yes Boom, it's hard times, it's a good job, what's wrong with it? I'd been expecting this reaction from Boom-Boom. Truthfully, I’d been looking forward to it.
‘It’s just I can’t believe you got me working for a transvestite.’
‘He’s not a transvestite Boom, he’s a Drag Queen. It’s a big difference.’
‘What difference?’
‘Sequins mostly.’
‘Wolfy you know what I mean.’
‘Boom the money’s good and Leon's got another little job for you. Did you remember your wellies?’ At the word ‘wellies’, Boom-Boom's brow furrowed so deep you could've planted potatoes in it.
‘Yeah,’ he said clutching a carrier bag to his chest.
‘We better go in.’ I said addressing them both. If Boom-Boom was terrified, Tabatha was terrifying. She’d done nothing but stare daggers the whole time I was speaking to Boom-Boom. She was absolutely raging.
We walked on in. Everyone was still setting up for the nine o'clock opening. The club had about fifty tables and a long bar that ran along the east wall. At the north end was a medium-sized stage, next to a thin corridor. At the end of the corridor a large fire exit door opened on to Leon’s yard where he kept his three industrial and two domestic freezers; large metallic monsters that stored his crooked cache. Part of the little job we had to do later, the job that required the wellies.
Kelly (Leon's wife) came rushing across the minute she saw me.
‘Hiya, Wolfy,’ she said kissing me on the cheek. Kelly was nine months pregnant, and had a radiant glow about her. She was dressed in a loose-fitting black dress and looked ravishing with her strawberry blonde curls hanging around her shoulders.
‘Y'oright, Kelly?’ I said pecking her cheek. ‘How’s things?’
‘Good, real good.’ She patted her belly, trying to pretend she was fine, but I could see the anxiety in her face.
This was Kelly’s second attempt at a child; the first time she’d miscarried. It tore her and Leon apart. They’d set their hearts on a baby, and when the baby was lost they couldn’t really cope. They’d bought all the baby clothes, made a room in their house into a nursery, they’d got everything they needed … except the child. It almost destroyed them. Everything back then was falling apart for them; a true London storm.
A little while after we bought the club. I think it gave them something to focus on, saved them. Saved me too, if I’m honest.
‘I’m sure it’s all gonna be fine,’ I said. ‘The only problem you got is when that one’s born you’ll have two children to take care of, a little one and Leon.’
‘Yeah but I’ve got a few years before this one starts nicking my dresses.’
‘Where is the old queen anyway?’ I laughed.
‘Upstairs ... Winston can you call Leon please, tell him Wolfy's here.’ She signalled the barman. ‘So are these the two?’ She said indicating Tabatha and Boom-Boom.
‘Yep this is Tabatha and Boom-Boom.’ Kelly shook Tabatha's hand and gave me a wry smile.
‘Oh this one's going to be very popular with the ladies,’ she said, shaking Boom-Boom's hand. He clutched his bag even tighter to his chest.
‘Hey, Wolfy.’ It was Leon.
‘Hey, Leon. How goes it?’
‘Not bad. I take it these are the two.’
‘Yeah.’ I introduced Tabatha and Boom-Boom to Leon.
‘Okay then Boom-Boom. Let me show you round. Wolfy told you I've got another little job later for you?’
Boom nodded sheepishly.
‘Brill, and you brought your wellies?’
He nodded again, still holding them as though they'd prevent the machinations of lusty drag queens.
‘Super.’ Leon continued ‘Wolfy be a dear and show Tabatha the staff room and stuff.’
‘Will do.’ I was desperate to speak to Tabatha alone. I desperately wanted to explain what had happened, before she did something I'd regret.
We walked in to the staffroom and I closed the door behind us.
‘Well?’ Tabatha said as soon as we were in the room.
‘I know I didn’t turn up, but it wasn’t my fault.’
‘Whose fault was it then? Whose fault was it that I spent two hours freezing my tits off waiting for you? Was it my fault? Of course, it was my fault. It was my fault for thinking that you can be relied upon to do anything that doesn’t benefit you. It’s alright for you. You’re actually doing something with your life. Mine’s a heap of shit. This job’s alright but I want something more. I want to be
going somewhere. I want a future.’ She was near tears. ‘And this was my opportunity, my chance to step out on my own, and you let me down, you bastard.’ She slapped me in the face.
‘Cheers. Cheers. That’s exactly what I needed, after the day I’ve had. That’s exactly what I needed! After the fucking day I’ve had that’s what I need; a fucking slap in the head. No, don’t say anything. I’m just gonna tell you about my day so you understand how you just made it perfect. I have been on the go since eight o’clock and it has been nuthin’ but shitty since I started. Some psycho in a cowboy hat tried to perforate me with a machine gun. I found Longy swinging from a light bulb with a plastic bag on his head, and some copper is planning the rest of his life around sending me down. So when I say, it wasn’t my fault, I mean it, okay? It’s not just some shitty excuse. The world doesn’t revolve around you, y'know. People have problems of their own. Oh, and just so you know … my life ain’t going nowhere. I'm as broke as fuck and am crashing at Kendall's so I can make a change. So, don’t think you’re the only one who’s got it shitty.’ I still had more to say, mostly along the lines of I’m broke but I’d run out of steam.
‘Someone shot at you? Are you okay?’ She was genuinely worried.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Longy's not though.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah, some fucker killed him then tried to shoot me.’
‘Oh, Wolfy. I’m so sorry.’ She wrapped her arms around me and we stood there silently. Tears ran down her face. If Leon hadn’t poked his head round the door I don’t think we would’ve moved.
‘You two finished having sex?’
‘Yeah,’ we both replied.
‘Good, ’cos we got business to do.’ Leon was all excited. He always got excited when we were off cow thieving. It was the only time he could wear his night-vision goggles and not feel peculiar.
In addition to being the hostess with the mostess, Leon was also a butcher who did a very nice trade in black market chops, which is what I and now Boom-Boom would be assisting him with. Obviously I could have told Boom-Boom, but where's the fun in that? Far more enjoyable to make him think the wellies were for some lurid sex act, rather than the reality, which was basically that we were off to the countryside to steal a cow, or a pig, or a chicken … or any other animal that Leon felt the urge to nick, and you need wellies, because the countryside is muddy.
‘Two minutes, Leon hey?’ I said.
‘Cool. I’ll get the van and rescue Boom from the girls.’
‘I’ll meet you outside.’ I waited until he left before I addressed Tabatha. ‘Can we sort your thing out tomorrow?’
‘Yeah.’ she nodded. ‘How’s Marisol holding up?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t even know whether she knows.’ Marisol was Longy’s sister. A pang of guilt struck me at the thought of not offering my condolences. ‘I’ll call her now along with Mo.’ Geronimo would have wanted to know as soon as possible.
I phoned Geronimo first. He already knew. Marisol had called Charlotte (Geronimo's partner) and she’d gone round there to comfort her. While I’d been asleep Bosley had done his rounds so everybody close already knew. I phoned Marisol after that. She was understandably tearful which caused the same response in me. I told her that I’d come and see her tomorrow which seemed to please her. I doubted she was handling it well, which made me feel even guiltier.
I wanted to go round, tell her what had happened. But I didn’t think I could handle it. Going cow hunting seemed like a better idea.
‘Look, Tabs,’ I said, returning to Tabatha, ‘I’ll meet you at the Pagoda at eleven. Then we’ll sort your thing out, hey?’ Tears still flowed down her face. She nodded. Longy was as much her friend as he was mine, and the realisation that he was gone had fully sunk in.
‘I'll see ya later, okay.’
‘Yeah,’ she said kissing me gently on the lips; a gentle peck, a single moment of tenderness.
‘Well, you bes’ go. They’re waiting.’ She could see me stalling. I didn’t want to leave. I could have stayed with her all night just standing there. But I had to go, had to carry on. What else was there to do?
Wednesday 9:30 p.m.
Leon had brought the van round the front; an old removal van, blue and white in colour, although you couldn’t tell from the dirt. Someone had written on the side: Clean me! Parking Betsy in Leon’s yard I jumped into the van with my black holdall, inside of which were two tranquilliser guns, a rifle version and a pistol version; both of which were extremely useful. Leon started the engine. The rain was coming down: it was that misty rain where the individual droplets are inconsequential on their own, but accompanied by their brothers and sisters can wet you to the bone. I watched as it swirled and danced across the darkened road. The headlights teased and flirted with the squall.
We moved forward, the gears screeched and creaked into action. Leon was driving, Boom-Boom was in the middle, and I was on the left, seated on the bulging yellow foam that seeped out of the battered leather seat. Leon had tried to repair the tear with some silver electrical tape, but the foam was too robust in its efforts to escape and was breaking back through its mock metallic confines.
There was something under my feet, I think it was old crisp packets and chocolate wrappers, but I didn’t want to look. Whatever it was it was soft and squidgy under my shoe; it squelched and squished every time I moved my foot. I opened the window slightly. There was a frowzy smell in the cab that was starting to bother me. The cold damp night air washed over me reviving my tired soul.
I didn’t know where we were going, but then I never knew. Leon would’ve told me if I’d have asked, but as I didn’t actually care what was the point? It was the journey that I enjoyed: the going from A to B, not the arriving, especially on occasions like this when I didn’t really want to be going.
Slowly we left the city with its reds, oranges, and greys; the colours of our existence. Gradually, the lights became fewer and the noise quieter, and then the city, my beloved town, disappeared behind us and this foreign green place drew closer. Twiddling the spent cartridge that I’d picked up from the floor outside Longy’s window, I couldn’t help but think of the guy in the hat and Longy all trussed up in a gimp suit.
I knew the outfit was bullshit. I’d known Longy well enough to know that he wasn’t that way inclined, was sure he wasn’t into auto-erotic asphyxiation, although I did intend to double check with a few of Longy’s previous paramours, just to be sure.
I don’t know when it happened, not sure when I decided, not sure I ever did consciously decide to do it … but somewhere along that country road I knew I had to find out what had happened; knew I had to find out why Longy was dead.
The rain had started to get heavier. The misty spray had turned into substantial droplets that were now bombarding the windscreen, giving extra work to Leon’s tired old wipers. Their screeching grated inside of my head. I tried to distract myself from the noise by watching as the land opened up and vast tracks of open space presented itself. Greens and browns blended together in the darkness
We travelled onwards for what, I think, was another hour. I hadn’t been keeping an eye on the clock. After a while Leon pulled into a lay-by. The rain had decided to desist in its efforts to irrigate the world. Maybe it had got as fed up as I had listening to Leon’s wipers, and had decided that it wasn’t worth continuing while Leon was still on the road.
We parked up next to a small woodland path, a muddy track that led through a less than welcoming woodland. The trees were tightly spaced and the branches meshed together linking the canopy. The moon was full. Leon had, as always, planned this well, and there was enough natural light to make the night-vision goggles surplus to requirements, although that didn’t stop Leon. I shoved on my wellies and we jumped out of the van and headed round to the back of it. It had a lifting platform which had been folded over to cover the doors. Originally intended for wardrobes and the like, but now used to lift the equally heavy farmyard animals we wer
e about to acquire. We pulled down the platform and Leon opened the back.
The interior was divided into six even stalls with a pathway through the centre. Each stall had straw on the floor. Sitting in the pathway was a converted shopping trolley, with small tractor tread wheels and a reinforced body. Boom-Boom and Leon pulled it out and I pulled the tranquiliser rifle out of my bag. Leon took it from me once they’d got the trolley on the ground. Leon in turn handed me a pair of goggles, while Boom-Boom watched in confusion.
He had no idea what was going on and no intention of asking. He’d rather look on in ignorance and hope that things would explain themselves in due course. Usually, I would’ve kept the rifle, but as this was Boom-Boom’s training session I thought it wise to give it to Leon.
‘You need me on this one?’ I asked Leon.
‘Nah. This one’s easy. Be the lookout.’ Leon could tell I wasn’t really with it. I hadn’t mentioned Longy, but he knew something was up.
‘Cheers,’ I replied.
I watched the two of them walk down the path, Leon striding ahead and Boom-Boom dawdling behind. Obviously the idea of walking through a wood, in the middle of the night with a man in night-vision goggles and a tranq gun had got Boom-Boom a little nervous. On a normal day I would have been pissing myself laughing, but truthfully I didn’t even recognise Boom-Boom’s trepidation until they were a good distance away.
I sat down on the tail flap and twiddled again with the bullet shell, smoking like a chimney. It was one thing to say I’d find out what happened to Longy, it was another thing entirely actually doing it. I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t even know why I had the shell casing. It’s not like it had an address on it or anything.
As I was trying to figure out how to begin, Leon and Boom-Boom appeared at the end of the path. Boom-Boom was grinning from ear to ear, pushing the trolley in which a sleeping ram’s head bobbed up and down. Obviously events had explained themselves enough for him to relax.
‘I take it you had a good time?’ I asked, smirking at Boom-Boom.
The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) Page 3