The Rule of Fear

by Luke Delaney

  ‘You’re not here to think,’ King snarled at him, leaning over and grabbing him by the hair, twisting O’Neil’s face towards him and again slapping him hard. ‘You exist to do what I tell you to do and no more. You’re too stupid to think and I’ll warn you now – if you become a liability, you’ll be replaced – understand? You are completely and utterly replaceable. Without me you are nothing.’

  Suddenly O’Neil’s expression changed from one of fear to one of surprise as he seemed to look past King – his eyes wide with warning. Slowly King looked over his shoulder to find PC Rana Knight standing at the foot of the stairwell staring at the scene of O’Neil on the floor with King standing over him like a bird of prey readying itself to tear its victim to shreds.

  ‘Shit,’ King muttered under his breath before straightening and turning fully to face Knight. ‘How … how long have you been standing there for?’

  ‘Long enough,’ Knight answered straight, looking wary and alarmed.

  ‘Then you heard me questioning this suspect?’

  ‘I heard something,’ Knight told him.

  ‘Things get done a little differently round here,’ King tried to explain. ‘A little more force – a little less bureaucracy. It’s how we keep the local wildlife in check.’

  ‘And that’s what you’re doing, is it?’ Knight asked.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing,’ King replied.

  ‘I get it,’ Knight reassured him.

  ‘Good,’ King nodded, ‘because on the Unit we stick together – understand? We don’t stab each other in the back. What happens on this estate stays on the estate. That way we all benefit.’

  ‘I understand,’ Knight lied.

  ‘Then we have no problem,’ King smiled like a hyena. ‘Just make sure you don’t mention what you saw or heard to anyone. Can I trust you to do that?’

  ‘You can trust me,’ Knight lied again. ‘I’m just here for the arrests.’

  ‘Then come over here and help me with this one,’ King told him, but Knight didn’t move, his eyes narrowing with suspicion of what King intended to do and what he was capable of. ‘I said get over here,’ King repeated.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Knight answered and began to back away – relieved to finally have the evidence Johnston needed. Now he could get the hell off this God-cursed estate.

  ‘I said I need your assistance,’ King hissed through gritted teeth, but Knight just continued backing away then dived into the stairwell and was gone. ‘Fuck,’ King shouted. ‘Fuck.’

  ‘Why did he run?’ O’Neil asked in a panic.

  ‘Shut up,’ King told him, turning back to O’Neil. ‘Question is, what am I going to do with you?’

  ‘Please,’ O’Neil pleaded. ‘I wasn’t trying to fuck you over. I promise.’

  ‘Shut up, Dougie,’ King told him, staring into the sky for answers. ‘I’m thinking.’ After a few seconds of silence he spoke again. ‘Go back to the flat and lock yourself inside. I’ll be along later to sort this shit out. Just wait for me inside. Now fuck off.’

  O’Neil scrambled to his feet, pulling up his shorts and trousers. ‘What about that other copper?’ he asked, looking like a trapped rat. ‘He might say something. He could get us both nicked. He looked like he knows something.’

  ‘I’ll speak to him,’ King explained. ‘Make sure he’s not going to be a problem. I’ll tell him you’re just one of my regular informers who needs to be turned over now and then. Now … get out of my sight.’ As O’Neil scurried back along the alleyway King whispered to himself. ‘You shouldn’t have tried to cross me, Dougie. That was a mistake. A very serious mistake.’

  King knocked on the door that had become his gateway to a world of raw, intense pleasure. After only a few seconds it was flung open and Kelly pulled him inside without speaking and attached herself to his lips. His arm searched for the door, found it and flicked it shut as he stumbled forward, almost tripping over Kelly who threw her slender arms around his shoulders before jumping from the ground and wrapping her legs around his waist. They kissed long and hard before he finally eased her lips from his and sat her on the table – her arms and legs refusing to release him.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, faking a frown. ‘Don’t you want me any more?’

  ‘I want you,’ he told her. ‘You’ll see in a minute how much I want you.’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Just need a little hit of something first,’ he explained and slid his hand under his body armour before it reappeared pinching a small fold of paper between his fingers.

  ‘Never needed that with me before,’ Kelly continued the charade of concern.

  ‘Been a long morning,’ he told her as he carefully unfolded the paper and tapped a thin line onto the back of his hand. Without ceremony he sniffed the white powder hard through his nose, coating the inside of his lungs with the tiny white crystals where their effects would be hotwired through his body. He tapped another uneven line onto the back of his hand and offered it to Kelly who steadied his hand by cupping it in her own before inhaling deeply. They stood silently wrapped together as they waited for the cocaine to charge their bodies and minds. After a minute Kelly broke the silence.

  ‘You seem jumpy,’ she said.

  ‘Just got a lot of shit I need to sort out, that’s all,’ he reassured her.

  ‘Well,’ she told him, gently kissing his neck and the side of his face, ‘don’t burn yourself out. You’re no good to me if you’re worn out.’ She dropped a hand to his belt, her fingers dexterously working at the buckle – whispering in his ear as she did so. ‘D’you think we’ll ever have a normal relationship?’ she asked. ‘Meet each other’s parents, go out for a drink or something?’

  ‘Christ, I hope not,’ he answered. ‘Who wants a normal relationship? I like the way we are – just the two of us in our own world where no one can fuck with us. Besides – I’m finished with my parents and all their shit. They were just baggage holding me back, keeping me trapped in their pointless world. I’m on my own now – the way I want it to be.’

  ‘And your pretty policewoman girlfriend you never admitted having?’

  ‘Gone too,’ he assured her.

  ‘So where you gonna stay?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll need to stay here for a while,’ he told her. ‘Until I can get something else sorted out. So long as your mum’s not planning on coming back any time soon.’

  ‘She won’t be back until things have blown over,’ she answered. ‘She may not come back at all.’

  ‘Good,’ King nodded.

  ‘I’ve never lived with a man before,’ she laughed slightly.

  ‘I should hope not,’ he said, ‘but I won’t be around much for a while. I’ll be in and out a lot till things calm down.’

  ‘Why bother?’ Kelly suddenly asked. ‘Why don’t we get out of this dump? We could, you know. There’s nothing stopping us.’

  ‘We will,’ he agreed. ‘But first I need to put a few grand together. Maybe even chuck this job in and go abroad somewhere.’

  ‘Still thinking of running away to another country?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never been abroad. Where would you take me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he told her as she slid her hand inside his trousers. ‘Where would you like to go?’ But before she could answer there was a loud knock on the front door. ‘Shit,’ he cursed. ‘Who the fuck is that?’ His eyes darted around as he thought fast for a second. ‘You’d better see who it is then get rid of them,’ he told Kelly. ‘If it’s anyone looking for me I’m not here. You don’t know where I am.’

  Kelly uncoiled her legs from his waist and glided towards the front door – her hips moving like the hypnotizing pendulum of an old clock. She put the chain on the door, opened it slightly and peeked through the gap to see two heavily muscled men standing outside – one of whom she recognized, the other she did not.

  ‘Yeah?’ she introduced herself. ‘What you want?’

  ‘I need to speak to
the copper,’ the younger, smarter one said.

  ‘What copper?’ Kelly lied expertly.

  ‘Don’t mess me around, little girl,’ he warned her.

  ‘I ain’t messing anyone around,’ she defiantly told him. ‘I just don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘D’you know who I am?’ he asked her – expecting the usual reply of ‘Yes’ he received on council estates across East London.

  ‘No,’ she shook her head as if he was nothing. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’

  He cleared his throat of his rising anger before answering. ‘I’m Josh Campbell and this here,’ he pointed to the older thick-set man in his forties whose face bore the scars of many a fistfight, ‘is George. George helps me with my … negotiations.’ George said nothing, as did Kelly as she stood eyeing them with disdain. ‘You’re Debbie Royston’s girl, ain’t you?’ Campbell tried to unnerve her. ‘Kelly, isn’t it?’

  ‘So you know my name,’ she told him. ‘A lot of people around here do.’

  ‘I bet they do,’ Campbell smiled – his green eyes shining from his tanned face. ‘Especially the men, right?’

  ‘Anything else you want to say?’ she asked, sounding bored.

  ‘Look, little girl,’ Campbell snapped at her. ‘Ain’t nothing goes on around here without me hearing about it and I hear the copper’s been staying with you – so why don’t you go get him?’

  ‘Why don’t you fuck off?’ Kelly told them and grinned sarcastically.

  Campbell took a step forward. ‘Be a shame if I had to come in there and teach you some fucking respect.’

  Before she could answer a strong hand fell on her shoulder and pulled her backwards as King stepped in front of her, removing the chain and opening the door wide, although his right hand remained hidden behind it as did the CS gas canister it held.

  ‘No need to threaten the girl,’ he told them – his voice cold and calm, but seething with menace. He was close to ten years younger than Campbell and nowhere nearly as muscled as either man, but his lack of fear made them wary. ‘I’m who you’re looking for.’

  ‘Well, well,’ Campbell smiled. ‘Haven’t you been a busy boy? Gonna invite us in then?’

  ‘No,’ King told him flatly. ‘Say what you got to say and leave me in peace. I’m a busy man.’

  ‘Indeed you have been,’ Campbell replied, ‘and that’s the problem. You’ve been overstepping the mark, my man – stepping on my family’s toes, taking what’s ours.’

  ‘I do what I want,’ he said. ‘You just stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours.’

  ‘What happens on this estate is our business,’ Campbell explained.

  ‘Not any more,’ King told him, his brown eyes burning into Campbell’s who took a deep breath to compose himself before speaking.

  ‘I think we’re all getting off on the wrong foot here,’ he tried to calm things. ‘My family have discussed this situation and we all agree there’s no need to cut you out of things. Far from it. We feel there’s no reason why we can’t have a mutually beneficial relationship.’

  ‘I’m listening,’ King replied, scanning the men in front of him for danger. They had nothing in their hands, but the one doing all the talking wore a shirt that wasn’t tucked and could be concealing a weapon in his waistband, whereas the silent one could have had just about anything hidden under his jacket.

  ‘Better if we talk inside,’ said Campbell.

  ‘Better for who?’ King asked shaking his head. ‘We can speak here.’

  The two men looked at each other then back to King.

  ‘Fine,’ Campbell agreed, trying to hide his anger at the knockback. ‘You see, Jack, it’s like this. You’ve been drawing attention to yourself – moving in on our business interests – but we’re reasonable people. We understand you probably didn’t even know the likes of Micky Astill ultimately worked for us. But the fact remains that the money and gear you took off him belongs to us. A percentage of everything he earned came back to us – as does a percentage of everything that’s earned by anybody through … shall we say, not strictly legitimate business practices. We’re not talking about petty criminals here. I’m talking about the decent earners. Real money. And Astill was one of them – as is Susie Ubana.’

  ‘She’s got a big mouth,’ King told them matter-of-factly.

  ‘Maybe,’ Campbell moved on, ‘but this is about more than just a couple of dealers. This is about my family’s entire business. Our reputation. We can’t be seen to be allowing a couple of uniformed coppers to undermine our authority, now can we? Other people might start taking the piss too and then everything goes to shit. You see, people pay us to keep the peace – to resolve disputes over whose patch is whose and who can sell what where. We’re the police and the courts for people who can’t go to the police and courts – d’you understand?’

  ‘So?’ King shook his head. ‘Why should I give a fuck about your problems? I look after this estate now. I keep order here and I don’t need you to supply my gear. I have other sources.’

  ‘Don’t be naïve, Jack,’ Campbell warned him. ‘Any time we wanted to cut off your supply we could. All we have to do is say the word and there wouldn’t be a supplier in the East End would touch you.’

  ‘You’re assuming I use someone in your territory,’ King said. ‘I’m not that stupid. I bring mine in from further afield. Better price. Better quality too.’

  ‘Who gives a fuck?’ Campbell lost patience. ‘Point is, we could squash you like a fucking maggot on a dead man, but … we see a better way. You could be valuable to us. Information. Information, Jack. We have a couple of Old Bill who tip us the nod now and then. Tell us when maybe someone’s moving against us or if there’s a rogue outfit trying to muscle in on one of our dealers. But you, Jack – we don’t have anyone like you. You could give us information about the Old Bill – if they’re looking at us, planning on putting an undercover cop against us. Perhaps you could even find out who’s informing against us. Fucking grasses are the bane of my life. Be worth a lot of money to us if you could come up with some names. We could even let you carry on doing what you’ve been doing around here, although of course you’d have to pay us a percentage – just like everyone else. And you’d have to stay in the Old Bill and not get nicked. You’re no good to us if you get yourself nicked and chucked out. That happens, you’re just another nobody. This is a good offer, Jack – a one-time only offer. Everybody wins and nobody needs to get hurt. It’s good business.’

  King pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as if he was considering it before answering.

  ‘No thanks,’ he told them dismissively and began to close the door, which brought both men rushing forward, reaching for the backs of their waistbands – just as he’d expected them to do. But instead of trying to slam the door shut King reversed his action and threw it wide open – swinging the CS canister towards the men as they drew their small leather coshes – remembering his arrest and restraint training as he aimed at the older man’s stomach and pressed the trigger on top of the device, releasing a long thin stream of noxious liquid. Once he saw it splashing off the man’s chest he immediately raised his aim and fired the burning poison into his face before arcing the spray the few feet to his left and into the face of the fast-approaching Campbell.

  The effect was instant and devastating as both men collapsed to their knees clutching their faces and clawing at their eyes, trying to find an escape from the pain, but only making it worse. Blind and barely able to breathe, they were lambs for the slaughter as King walked slowly and victoriously from the flat – strutting and posing like a peacock amongst the stricken men, hoping everybody on the entire estate was watching his merciless, triumphant march.

  He looked down on the grovelling Campbell, speaking as he drew his ASP – extending the weapon to its full, lethal length.

  ‘I don’t make deals with scum like you,’ he shouted. ‘I’m the police and this is my territory now. Mine.’ He raised the AS
P above his head and brought it down as hard as he could into the side of Campbell’s face – tearing skin and breaking bone – his own face contorted with violent intent as he pulled the ASP back and hammered it into the brow of Campbell’s head – all rational thought gone from his mind – the fact he was close to committing murder doing nothing to calm his assault until the sound of Kelly shouting from the doorway froze him like a statue.

  He turned his head slowly to look at her, the fog of cocaine and rage subsiding enough for a moment of clarity. Her eyes were wide with terror.

  ‘Please, Jack,’ she almost begged. ‘Don’t kill them, Jack. Please don’t do it.’

  He looked from her to the bleeding Campbell and then back to her, nodding slowly as if he understood before the recovering moans of Campbell’s henchman attracted his attention. Calmly he covered the short distance, speaking as he walked.

  ‘I won’t kill them,’ he reassured her, ‘but it’s time to send a message – a message to anyone who thinks they can walk in here and take what’s mine.’ He turned in a full circle looking up at the windows of Millander Walk that looked down on the spectacle as he addressed the audience that he knew was watching and listening. ‘Everybody needs to know,’ he called out at the top of his voice, ‘this is what happens if you fuck with me. You come after me – this is what I do to you.’

  He raised the ASP above the henchman and whipped it down with a sickening thud into his ribs, then his spine, then his knee, over and over, punctuating each blow with grunt from the effort. Distracted by movement from Campbell, he lowered his ASP and stood tall – a slight smile spreading over his lips which had been made thin and pale by the bloodletting.

  ‘Don’t worry, Campbell,’ he tormented the prostrate figure. ‘I’ll be back with you just as soon as I’ve finished with this cunt.’ The smile fell from his lips as once more he lifted the ASP and brought it down hard on the motionless henchman.

  King hammered on the door with the base of his ASP – the rage and adrenalin from beating Campbell and his enforcer still coursing around his body as he grabbed the bars of the metal security grid and tried to pull it from the bricks where it was riveted with screws that ran deep.