The Sudden Arrival of Violence

by Malcolm Mackay

Barry’s made a series of noises that are supposed to make it sound like he’s thinking. Make it sound as though he’s contemplating some great sacrifice. William doesn’t think someone would literally huff and puff at such a prospect, but he’s not here to argue.

  ‘I could have it by the start of next week, but it’ll cost you,’ Barry’s saying. ‘There’s a lot that I would have to put aside to help you out here.’

  William does have some previous experience of counterfeiting. No emergencies, to be sure. No rush jobs. Calum seemed to have an idea of what would happen. Said that Barry would try to screw him out of all sorts of money. Try to delay it as much as possible. That way he can charge for taking all that time, but instead work on other things.

  William’s shaking his head. Firmly, but with that open and fair expression he does so well. ‘No can do. Need it sooner than that, or I lose a job. Pointless if you take that long. I need it in twenty-four hours.’

  Barry’s not going to let this one get away. He’s guessing that MacLean is testing him here. He’s good at what he does, but one day is asking a bit much.

  ‘The licence I can have by tomorrow,’ he’s nodding. ‘Passport, maybe on Friday. I’ll need the right info from you today. I’ll need to get some info from my people at the passport office as well,’ he’s saying, trying to make himself sound terribly important. Like he has people. ‘You got a picture, preferred details?’

  ‘Got a picture,’ William’s saying, taking the photo and sheet of paper from his pocket. ‘Some details, but I want you to come up with a safe ID.’ The address is William’s own, for now. Calum will change that as soon as he finds somewhere to live. Barry’s looking at the sheet, nodding at the details. Saying nothing about the false ID. Easy for him, he has plenty in reserve. Suspicious, but he didn’t get where he is by asking questions. No good counterfeiter asks too many questions.

  ‘Going for a passport and licence for the same guy?’ Barry’s asking. ‘What about a National Insurance card?’ Looking to create a little extra work.

  ‘Nah,’ William’s saying dismissively. ‘Not needed.’ Calum might get a fake card at some point, but not yet. Only thing he’s likely to need that for is legit work, and he’s nowhere near that stage yet.

  Now William’s passing across the passport photo. This is the moment. The picture of Calum is a couple of years old, but still recognizably him. It could pass for William, if your eyesight wasn’t up to much. If Barry knows what Calum looks like, then he’ll recognize him. Bound to. Recognize that this is more of a risk than he wants to be involved in. Calum’s convinced that Barry’s never seen him. Might have heard of him, but probably not. Barry’s looking at the photo. Pausing. Glancing up at William. He’s seen a similarity, but he knows better than to comment on it. You don’t chase business away. It usually runs of its own accord.

  ‘Right. Two days it’ll take me. Leave a number with me and I’ll call you when it’s ready. Tell you where to pick it up. Okay? Let’s call it four hundred up front, four hundred on delivery.’

  William’s pausing, then scoffing. Don’t let him know you’re desperate. He’ll know if you let him overcharge you. ‘Let’s call it two up front, two on delivery. We can talk about a set price for the future if this goes well.’

  He seems like a nice guy, does Barry Fairly. William knows better than to trust him. He’s back in his car, two hundred pounds down and the agreement in place. This is when it starts to get nervy. They’re relying on someone else, and William doesn’t like that. If it was just himself and Calum, everything would be fine. Trusting other people–that’s the thing. Two days of waiting. Hoping you can trust this guy. If they can’t, Calum could be finished. William’s getting angry as he’s driving home. Angry at Barry for a crime not yet committed. If that Barry stabs them in the back, by God, William will return. Back to that shitty little shed to rip it and its inhabitant apart. Okay, that might not be true, but he won’t let it go unpunished. For now, it’s home again. Back to Calum and the weird atmosphere. It feels like they should be cherishing every moment. Making the most of what could be their last few days together. They can’t. Can’t go outside. Can’t be seen or heard. Not much to talk about that doesn’t work its way back to killing people and running away.

  15

  Peter Jamieson doesn’t get out much. The consequences of importance. There was a time when it was different. Back when they started, Peter was the one who pounded the streets. He was the one with menace, because he was the one who could hurt you. Young was his sidekick. The smart guy you didn’t need to be afraid of. That changed with power. It got to a point where Jamieson couldn’t safely do the things he used to. He misses very few of those things, to be fair. Being the tough guy? Huh, leave that to the meatheads. Plenty of those around. And now Young has the menace to scare people anyway. Not because he’s got any tougher; he hasn’t. It’s because people know he has power behind him, and there’s nothing quite as intimidating as power. All of that power still belongs to Jamieson. Take him away and Young’s back to being the smartarse weakling.

  Jamieson’s sitting in his office, watching TV. Half-watching, in fact. Paying a little attention to the local news, but contemplating other things. Got a text from Young saying he would be late in. No problem to Jamieson. He’s not what you would call a morning person. Work’s been heavy lately; he could do with taking a weekend to himself. It’ll have to wait. Big plans ahead. Very big. Career-defining. Get this thing with Shug just right and it sets up the next few years. No mention on the news of missing persons, so he’s switching the TV off. No mention in the local press, either. Young was confident this wouldn’t go big. Hardy had nobody to care if he went missing. Kenny only has his girlfriend, and she’s been around long enough to know better. In normal circumstances Jamieson would be reassured. His instincts tell him it’ll be fine. But his instincts told him Kenny was a good guy. People keep saying you have good instincts for the business, and eventually you get to believe them. Dangerous thing, believing others.

  Young’s coming into the office now. Looking a little flustered, a little fed up. That’s not like him. Means there’s something to discuss. You spend more than two decades working by someone’s side and you learn what every expression means. Over time, both of these men have learned how to go expressionless. That’s valuable, too. You show no expression to an outsider and they have no way of knowing your mood. Young’s sitting down with a thump on the couch, looking across at Jamieson.

  ‘Had a couple of meetings already this morning,’ he’s saying.

  He’s trying to look like this is some terrible struggle for him. Jamieson isn’t buying it. John Young likes to be busy. Everyone knows it. ‘What’s the problem?’

  Young’s puffing out his cheeks. ‘Met with George and a couple of contacts. Separately, obviously. Good news is: Shug seems to be going the predictable route. Trying to make quick moves. He’s going broad, though. Targeting everyone with a name. I’ve been thinking. He knows about Calum. Knows that he works for us. He might make Calum a target again.’

  Jamieson’s scowling, but it isn’t a huge surprise. There was always a chance that Shug would target Calum, especially if he knows that Frank MacLeod isn’t around any more.

  ‘Okay,’ Jamieson’s saying. ‘Well, we have to decide if we need to contact Calum or not. Give him a warning.’

  Young’s pausing, thinking about it. ‘I don’t think so. A day and a half after he takes out two targets? Better for us, and him, if we keep quiet right now. Thing is,’ he’s saying, and bobbing the foot of his crossed leg up and down while he thinks, ‘he’s made one move against Calum and failed. Shug hasn’t mentioned Calum to anyone, far as I know.’ He’s shrugging. ‘Certainly hasn’t gone big on making it public.’

  ‘We can’t rely on it staying that way,’ Jamieson’s saying with a shake of his head. Going with his instincts. ‘If this goes our way, then Shug’s in all kinds of trouble. He’ll sing. Bound to. He’s too legit not to. He’ll mention
Calum.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Young’s nodding, ‘but I might be onto something that could help us with that. I think we can get to Fizzy Waters. If we have him on board, it could make Shug sweet in the long term. Depending on whether we get a chance to play him properly. All depends on timing,’ Young’s saying, ‘but why rush into warnings that spook people.’

  Hard to argue with that. Jamieson’s never been convinced of Calum’s loyalty. But he keeps doing the jobs he’s given, and keeps doing them well. Still, they’ve worked hard to make him feel comfortable with them. Sought to be good employers. He’s a young man who likes a lot of space, likes to be left alone. Fine, they’ve left him alone. Never put him under any unnecessary pressure. But it’s those instincts again. Young got this wrong before. Got it wrong with Calum. Had the chance to move him before Shug sent Glen Davidson to kill the boy. Worked out in the end, so Young got off the hook. Calum killed Davidson instead, which was a stroke of luck. But you can’t rely on Calum getting himself out of bother again. They need to be alert. Be ready to help Calum. Play this one cautious.

  ‘So that’s Shug. What other news did you have?’ Jamieson’s asking. There’s something else. All this Shug talk will have come from Greig, but Young mentioned two contacts. That means he met the young lad he has such high hopes for.

  ‘My other contact had a bit of news. Fisher’s taken the bait on Hardy. Looking into his links with Shug, which is a start. If Calum was up to scratch, then we’re off to a good start. Thing is, Fisher had a phone call. Came from Deana Burke.’

  ‘Deana Burke?’

  ‘She’s Kenny McBride’s girlfriend, partner–whatever you want to call it. She knew Kenny was Fisher’s contact. Kenny told her he was going on a job. When he didn’t come back, she called Fisher. We’re going to have to do something about her.’

  Jamieson’s frowning and tapping the desk with his forefinger. Kenny, you weak little bastard. Even in death you’re a fucking nuisance. What kind of professional tells his girlfriend that he’s a police contact? She wasn’t even his wife, for Christ’s sake. So he tells her he’s a grass. Must have given her Fisher’s number as well. Bloody hell! Then he makes a point of telling her he’s going on a job. Shit, how much detail?

  ‘What did he tell her about the job?’

  ‘Doesn’t seem to be any detail there,’ Young’s telling him with a reassuring tone. ‘No mention of what the job was. No mention of who else was on the job. As far as I know, anyway. If she’d said something, then Fisher would be all over it already. He’s not; he’s still working on Hardy.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean she doesn’t know. Just means she hasn’t said anything yet. I wouldn’t put it past Kenny to have blurted out everything.’

  ‘Which is why we have to decide what we’re going to do about her,’ Young’s saying.

  Killing her is off the table. Not an option. There’s a moral reason–if you want to look hard for it. It’s way in the background, but it’s there. Jamieson has qualms about killing someone just because they’re trying to find out what happened to a loved one. Sure, it’s annoying, when she should know better. And yes, if she becomes dangerous, then he’ll have no second thoughts about removing her. But, right now, all she’s doing is trying to find out what happened to her man. That’s gutsy, and rather admirable. Jamieson likes a strong woman. The other reason, the one that dominates, is that it’s not professional. Her man goes missing, she complains and then she goes missing too. You don’t think that would get the police all excited? Course it would. So you don’t go down that road. And they only have one gunman right now, Calum. That’s going to change soon, if all goes well, but right now it’s Calum, and Calum alone. No way Jamieson’s sending him to do another job so soon. So that leaves him looking at other options.

  It has to be something that lets her know just how Jamieson feels about this. Something that gets the message across. But nothing that will draw the police to the scene. Nothing that harms her physically. She’s been around the business, so that informs the decision. Someone from the outside and you would have to use a lighter touch. Any pressure could send them running to the cops.

  ‘This Burke woman, how tough is she?’

  Young’s shrugging. ‘Hard to say. Been around the block. Been with one or two serious people, so she knows what can happen. Don’t know about tough. The one she settled down with was Kenny. He was about as far from tough as you can get and still be in this business.’

  ‘Mm.’ Getting thoughtful. Getting pissed off. They shouldn’t be in this position. Kenny should have kept his gob shut.

  ‘Right,’ Jamieson’s saying decisively. ‘Call Nate Colgan. Get him in here. I’ll send him round. He can have a conversation with her. Nothing physical. Just a chat. If she doesn’t get that message, then she’s a dumb bitch and deserves whatever happens to her afterwards.’ He finishes with a little thump on the table.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Young’s saying. ‘But what if she doesn’t get it? Where do we go after this?’

  ‘Wherever we have to,’ Jamieson’s saying. Colgan will do the job. A smart guy, and as scary as all hell. Nate Colgan scares everyone, including his employers. It’s why he never lasts. Which is another good reason to use him. Nobody knows that Colgan has been working almost exclusively for Jamieson these last couple of months. He approached one of Jamieson’s men with favourable terms on some gear he’d been stuck with. Been using him since. Colgan’s freelance, though; anyone could hire him to intimidate this woman. No reason it should blow back on Jamieson.

  As Young’s making the call to Colgan, his mind is racing. There’s an opportunity here. If DI Fisher and his lot are going to start poking about after Kenny, then there ought to be something for them to find. Something nicely distracting. Something that keeps them running merrily in the direction they’re already going. Towards Shug. It’s not how he would like to do it, but if you have to come up with policy on the hoof, then you might as well make it comprehensive. This could be useful. He might not be able to invent anything that definitely links Shug to Kenny, but something that raises suspicion is easy. Of course, if Deana Burke gets the message to back off, then this plot is pointless. And the fact is: most people get the message when Nate Colgan delivers.

  16

  It’s two hours later, just ticking into the afternoon. Deana’s got some shopping, got a coffee. Going to go see her friend Claire in the late afternoon. Claire has a little shop of her own, has given Deana a few hours’ work in the past. Going to need a few more now. Kenny didn’t have any great savings. Wasn’t like he earned that much. Good money for what he did, but not enough for her to live on now. She has his bank card in her pocket. Took two hundred out at the cash machine. Not sure what’ll happen to his money, now that he’s disappeared. The police might take it. She hears of that happening more and more. If they prove he got it for committing crimes, they might take it all. Better to get some of it out of the account and into her pocket.

  She’s not dumb, and the guy following her isn’t subtle. Doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be subtle. He went round the block twice while she was standing at the bus stop. Now he’s in the traffic not far behind the bus. Slim chance that he’s following either of the two elderly women who got on the bus at the same stop as her. Cops don’t follow you like that. If they have something to say, they say it. If they follow you, it’s because they don’t want you to see. This guy wants her to see him. Which makes this a warning. Not hard to guess where that warning is coming from. She keeps looking behind her, and the car keeps following. No point in trying to escape it. No point in trying to be smart about this. Just go home. See what happens.

  Getting off the bus. Watching the car go past. A man driving. Looks like he’s pushing middle age. Looks big. The car’s gone down the road and turned at the corner. Gone out of view. He’ll be back, she knows it. He’s going round the block again. She’s up the street and turning left. A short walk, crossing the road and turning right onto their street. Their street�
��that’s a laugh. The house is in Kenny’s name. Nothing to do with her, legally at least. Homeless and with no money. This is going to be fun. She’s stopping. Just for a second, now she’s moving again. It’s there. At the other end of the street, parked near the corner. The car, with the driver still in it. She can make him out. Sitting, watching her. Bold as you like. Expressionless, it looks like. She doesn’t recognize the face, not at this distance anyway. She’s turning into the front garden. Key in the door. Getting nervous now. Bag of shopping on the step. Door open, picking up the shopping, getting inside.

  There are those few minutes of panic, when any nightmare scenario seems possible. Then the calm, and the logic. If he intended to harm her, he would not have gone for visibility. This guy wants her to know he’s there. This isn’t some kind of attack. This is just a warning. Letting her know they can get to her at any time. That they can follow her around and make things awkward for her. Right, good, so we can forget about dying today. He’ll sit out there like an idiot, and tomorrow he’ll be gone. A warning doesn’t last forever. They’ll have other people for him to be all big and scary to. A man like Peter Jamieson isn’t going to waste an employee on her for long. It’s a warning for her to keep her mouth shut about Kenny. A pause. How much do they know? Is this some sort of general warning? She should know he’s dead now, so they’re preaching the value of silence. Or do they know she’s spoken to the police? If it’s the latter… Oh, shit! A knock on the front door.

  She’s considering not answering. Considering it long enough for him to knock a second time. What’s the point? A guy like that could get in here without her opening the door for him. She’s at the door. Pulling it ajar.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Deana Burke?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You and I need to talk.’

  He says it in a tone that doesn’t allow for disagreement. A tall man, broad. Younger than she thought at first. Might only be her own age, and handsome too. Has the sort of dark and slightly lined look that tells her he’ll age well. But that look isn’t appealing. Handsome, yes, but cold. He looks like a man who gets angry often and with meaning. Angry at the world, and willing to hurt everything in it.