From Innocence to Arrogance
Page 24
“Just some lads that I work with,” I replied trying to play the whole thing down.
I was more excited than Chris and Daniel were put together, but I kept all my excitement concealed. “Cyrus, is that how you’re going on? Getting driven home in brand-new jeeps like that?” Chris asked as he smiled showing his approval.
“That’s nothing, I’ve got a present for you two,” I said as I continued to play the whole brand-new jeep thing down. I removed the drawstring bag from my shoulder and opened the top by loosening the string that held the bag closed. Reaching inside, I pulled out the two slabs of cocaine weighing half a kilo of cocaine each. Bubbles had wrapped them tight in Clingfilm ‘for presentation’, as he had put it. “Lads, each one of these is half the kilo. Every time you sell a whole kilo, I will pay you £1,600, and rightfully you should be able to sell two s a week each,” I assumed in a bid to motivate them. I hoped that they would be able to sell two KGs a week each, that way I would make my £35,000 a week, and that would be after they have been paid.
“I want you both to sell no less than an ounce, and you are to sell ounces for £600, 4 ½ ounces in bulk gets sold for £2,700, and a ‘nine bar’ gets sold for £5,400 and so on,” I explained. ‘Nine bar’ is street slang for nine ounces.
“Is the stuff any good though?” Chris asked as he took one of the slab-sized blocks from me and examined it.
“Yes, of course it is. I’m giving you both half a kilo each, so sell it for 10,800 and give me 10,000,” I said as Chris and my brother both examined their packages. Bob had explained in the house with Bubbles that if Chris is going to sell drugs for me, he should never keep drugs in his house.
“If he gets stopped by police, and they find two bags of weed in his pocket, they will go and raid his house and find a kilo of cocaine, Cyrus; then Chris is going to jail, and you will have just lost over £11,000,” Bob had stressed adamantly. I had conveyed this information to Chris. Of course, I didn’t let Chris know that someone had gave me this information. Instead, I led Chris to believe it was a product of my own intelligence. I had saved just over £70,000, my mum had £40,000 in cash for me, which I demanded be hidden at a relative’s house that wasn’t my Auntie Delma. My Auntie Delma had £30,000 in cash hidden for me already, and I had nearly £2,000 under my drawers in my room. Shit, I thought. All of the excitement of the day had made me forget to call Jabber.
“Chris, have you got the money for the weed; and Daniel, have you got the money for the weed from the McBride’s?” I asked the two of them.
“Yes, I got the money for 50 ounces, plus your profit is at my house,” Chris replied.
“The money for the nine ounces the McBrides have sold is in our house, Cyrus, plus your profit,” Daniel replied.
“Okay, Chris, you take the two half-a-kilos to your house for tonight only. Tomorrow, Daniel will come and collect one back from you. I want you to find a girl to look after it for you. Oh, and bring the money back here for the weed. I want you to walk though, because I know it’s only around the corner, but I don’t want police seeing a red rally car driving around at 11:00 at night; there’s no cars on the road,” I explained. Chris opened the driver’s door, and I handed him the drawstring bag with the two bricks of cocaine inside. “Oh, Chris, weigh out one gram and bring it back to me with the money. Make sure you break the gram off as a rock; people don’t like dust,” I said as I looked at him and Daniel to make sure they understood my ‘no dust’ policy. “Daniel, go and grab the money from the house, please,” I said trying not to sound too bossy. Silence fell in and around the car as Jabber’s phone began to call in my ear.
“Yes, Cyrus, I was beginning to think you forgot about me,” Jabber said in his deep voice playfully. I think he hadn’t called me because he wasn’t sure I was going to pay him because my brother and I had beaten his nephew, Jason, up.
“Don’t be silly, Jabber, you’ve looked after me from day one; I could never forget about you,” I said happily; I did like Jabber. He was the opposite to me in a lot of ways. He was quiet—I was loud. I was brown—he was white. He was big—I was small in comparison… but our common interests were massive—drugs and money. I think we both liked the fact that we both refused to take any shit from anybody.
“So, what are you saying then, Cyrus? Did you want me to come and see you tomorrow as it’s late now?” Jabber asked. I could tell from his tone he was at home, probably sprawled on the sofa or in bed.
“Well, not really. Is there any chance you could come to my house now. I’ve got the money here for all 59 ounces, and I need more tomorrow afternoon, and I’ve got a sample of that sniff,” I explained. ‘Sniff’ meaning cocaine.
“Go on then, Cyrus. I will be there in 15 minutes, where shall I meet you?” Jabber asked.
“I’ll be parked outside my house, my friend,” I replied.
“Okay, see you in a minute, Cyrus,” Jabber said before putting the phone down.
Daniel arrived back at the car first. The distinctive squeak made by the gate opening could be heard even though the windows of my car were closed. I counted out £1,350 from the bundle of cash Daniel had given me which was Jabber’s money, leaving me £930, which was my profit. I gave my brother, Daniel, £130 extra as a little bonus—he was my brother after all. “Roll a joint, look at it like I’m buying a joint off you for £130,” I said as I smiled at my brother. Without another word, Daniel started to do as I’d asked. Seven minutes later, and the rally car now filled with smoke, I sat checking my rear view mirrors for Chris. My eyes had been busy all day checking rear-view mirrors and scanning my surroundings. I was happy that I spotted the chubby track-suited figure that was Chris far in the distance. As Chris got closer, I saw he had the drawstring bag over his shoulder. I watched as Chris stepped nearer and nearer. I was happy with myself; as Chris had not even taken two steps into a place, I could have seen him without me spotting him.
Being a drug-dealer had taught me to practice my observational skills. If a police officer saw me while I was driving or in a car before I saw him, that was a slap in my face. If I spotted a police officer, and he didn’t see me, then that was a slap in his face. So, the very fact that nobody could sneak up on me or walk into the dark street I was parked in without me seeing them meant there was no chance of a police officer getting close to me without me seeing him or her.
Constantly testing myself to see whether ‘I’m on the ball’. Chris opened the rear car door after he had walked through the concrete posts and gave me the same drawstring bag I had given him. “There’s the money for 50 ounces and your profit,” Chris said as he sat in the back seat, clearly aware the car was filled with smoke. “Since when have we started smoking weed in this car, Cyrus?” Chris asked, probably remembering how annoyed I had been when he even suggested lighting a joint in my car.
“Since we decided to step things up,” I replied as I loosened the string, keeping the bag closed at the top. I opened the ‘sports bag’ to see the usual bundles of cash. Four individual bundles of cash, each containing £2,000 held together with elastic bands, and a little pile of notes on the side, which was the extra £750. As far as Chris knew, the £750 was my profit, and the rest was Jabber’s. However, that was not correct, because £1,250 was my profit, and the rest was Jabber’s. It had been almost 15 minutes since I had spoken to the big bald white man, Jabber, so I assumed he would be turning around the corner into the little dead-end any second. “Daniel, take Chris into the house while I speak to my friends; and, Chris, give me that gram of ‘sniff’,” I said as I turned to look at them awkwardly, due to having too much money in every pocket and on the floor, and money all over my lap. The two of them opened the car doors and began to get out of the car. “I will come inside when I’m done,” I said as they both got out of the car and went in through our brown gate that made the squeak sound as you open or close it. I locked the car doors before I reached inside the bag Chris had given me and counted out £1,250. I then put the money in my right-hand jeans
pocket. My left pocket already had my money from the profit off the McBrides, and my day’s £300 spending money. All I could think about as I sat in pitch darkness with the doors locked was, I hope this ‘cocaine venture’ takes off. Shit, I thought as I remembered I had not added the money from my brother, Daniel, to the money from Chris. Daniel’s money was still sitting on the floor between my feet. I did so while still looking around, making sure I had complete awareness of my surroundings.
“I’m just pulling in now, Cyrus,” Jabber said as he answered his phone. His headlights lit the street up before he took the last right to head towards where I was parked. Jabber’s headlights shone bright on the houses he was driving towards before turning and illuminating me and the car I was sitting in.
I got out of my car, holding the sports bag and walked slowly towards Jabber to stop him having to drive right outside my house. I didn’t want my dad to hear another car in the street, especially one with Jabber inside of it. Jabber got the message and stopped short of my house. “Are you all right, pal,” I said as I smiled at Jabber. We shook hands firmly while smiling profusely. Jabber shook his head as he smiled at me as if he was condoning what had happened with his nephew, Jason. His body language told me that he would have expected nothing less coming from someone he now knew as ‘big Calvin’s son’.
“Cyrus, you had to do what you had to do, but leave him now, please, my friend. He’s shit scared and very, very sorry, Cyrus,” Jabber said as he called a truce between his nephew, Jason, and me.
“That’s fine, it’s forgotten about,” I replied as I gave him the sports bag that had started its journey hours before in a drug factory, with a kilo of pure cocaine inside of it. It was now being handed over again, this time with nearly £9,000 in cash inside of it.
“Thanks, Cyrus,” Jabber said as he loosened the drawstring on the bag that had been keeping the bag closed, before asking, “How much money is here, Cyrus?”
“That’s the money for 59 ounces, there’s £8,850,” I replied as I pointed at the bag on Jabber’s lap. I reached in my little jeans pocket to get the gram of cocaine Chris had given me.
“Here, there’s a gram there,” I said as I gave Jabber one of our £10 weed bags with a green, pea-sized, little rock of cocaine inside of it.
Jabber took the bag from me and opened it. He put it to his nose to smell it. “It smells strong,” Jabber said as he sniffed at the bag. Then Jabber carefully, just about, got his little finger inside the bag to get some powder onto his finger. He rubbed the powder between his index finger and his thumb.
“If it’s pure cocaine, it will disappear into oil,” Jabber said explaining why he was rubbing it into his fingers. “It’s a bit mixed, but it’s really oily,” Jabber said. I didn’t say anything… It’s not like I could have said anything.
“Jabber, it was pure before we put it in a blender with benzocaine,” that would have went down like a lead balloon. Jabber put some more powder onto his finger and tasted it.
“It’s strong though,” Jabber said as it met his approval. “How much is it?” Jabber asked as he went to hand me the bag back.
“Twenty one thousand pounds per kilo, and you can keep that as a sample,” I replied as I declined taking the bag back from him.
“Cyrus, my mate buys kilos, and I do a bit as well. Let me go home and try it, and I will give my mate some to look at and let you know the verdict tomorrow,” Jabber said as he put the small bag of cocaine into his jacket pocket, and his bag of money on the floor behind the driver’s seat.
“Okay, I’ll let you go then, mate,” I said as I shook Jabber’s hand once more before getting out of his car.
“Oh, Cyrus, is that your motor?” Jabber asked pointing at the red rally car outside my house.
“Yes, do you like it?” I asked.
“Yes. That’s fucking awesome. I will drop your weed tomorrow. Take care, my friend,” Jabber said before starting his engine and shutting his door.
Chapter 16
I need a new bed was my first thought as I rolled over the following morning; feeling the metal from my bed frame through my thin mattress was horrible. Me, Chris and Daniel had stayed up until 2:00 in the morning discussing business. Daniel and Chris had wanted to talk about the prospect of making £3,000 a week each, I was more interested in the logistics of money transportation and storage, in terms of stash houses for their cocaine. I had agreed to give them both £100 each a week for storage. Daniel’s £100 would be given to Trish, who already looked after his cannabis—and as of this morning, his cocaine. The hundred pounds given to Chris would be given to our long-time friend, Charlene. She would, as of this morning, look after Chris’ cocaine. Charlene was Chris’ and my brother’s age; she lived with her sister and her sister’s younger child. Her house was perfect for a ‘stash house’, as she lived a five-minute walk from my house and Chris’ house, and nobody apart from Charlene had access to her bedroom. Also, for her age, Charlene was very ‘clued-up’, and best of all, Charlene did not have big mouth. Nobody is going to suspect the young girl who keeps herself to herself of having half a kilo of cocaine in her bedroom. Well, it is a lot more unlikely than it would be to suspect me or Chris of having half a kilo of cocaine in our bedrooms.
I had planned to meet Holly for the day and take her out for food. She had complained that since I got my new car, she hadn’t seen me. I planned to tell Holly today I was going to be busy all the time from now, and we should keep things casual—the last thing I need is more stress in the form of girlfriends. I had just got out the shower when my phone rang; ‘Jason’ flashed on the screen. What the fuck does this dickhead want? I thought as I looked at his name on my phone screen.
“What?” I answered ready to tell him where to go.
“Hello,” a female voice said on the other end. I didn’t recognise the voice.
“Who is that?” I asked puzzled as to who this girl was.
“It’s Jason’s girlfriend. Is this Cyrus?” she asked.
“Yes, what up?” I asked as I wondered what she was calling me for.
“Jason has gone to the shop, but I want to meet you to talk to you,” she said as she spoke quickly.
“Yes, okay, where do you want to meet?” I asked. I remembered what she looked like—blonde, big tits and about five years older than me at least.
“I’m going to take your number out of Jason’s phone. Meet me at the shop around the corner from Jason’s in ten minutes if you can,” she said.
“You mean the corner shop?” I asked, as there was two shops equal distance from Jason’s in opposite directions.
“Yes, that’s the one. And my name is Emma,” Emma said before hanging up. I stood in my room wearing only my boxer shorts looking at my phone, thinking what the fuck was that about? when I remembered how fit she was. It had completely slipped my mind to ask her what the fuck she wanted to talk about. Judging from her tone, it was important. It crossed my mind to call Jason’s phone back, but I didn’t want him to answer.
I got ready slowly, in the hope Emma would call back, but she never did. I left my house wearing a pair of dark-blue expensive jeans, with matching jumper and blue leather trainers, with white trim. Holly will have to wait, I thought as I slowly pulled off out my street. Fifteen minutes had passed as I neared my Auntie Delma and Jason’s street. I was two or three minutes away as an unsaved number call my phone. “Hello,” I answered as I continued to drive.
“Hello, it’s Emma, I’m standing near the shop,” she replied.
“Okay, what’s up, Emma?” I asked as I continued to approach the shop.
“It’s about Jason, and what I think he’s been doing,” Emma replied.
“Oh, okay, I’m one-minute away from the shop. I’m in a red car,” I said before hanging up. My immediate thought was that she had caught on to Jason sleeping with my auntie. If he has been back near my auntie since his beating, I would be putting a bullet in him, I thought as I placed the phone into the centre console.
“Hi,” I said she got into my car" I said as Emma got into my car.
“Hi, you,” Emma replied in a friendly tone.
“Let’s move from here. I don’t want Jason to see you in my car,” I said as I pulled off.
“Okay, is this your car?” Emma answered and asked.
“Yes, why?” I asked like it was the first time anybody had asked the question.
“It’s a really nice car,” Emma answered as she smiled. She was flirting with me. She had given me the same smile I have received from every girl that I had been intimate with—flirty but subtle. I still understood the sign clearly, so clearly it was as if she had wrote it down and stuck it to my forehead. I acted as though I hadn’t read her body language. I wasn’t even sure if she had realised she had done it. The thing about studying people’s body language is that their mannerism or speech mean something more than the action done or word said. Sometimes the person knows what they are doing and understand their own body language; for instance, a mother waving her index finger in anger at a naughty child, or a girl that sees the man of her dreams and plays with her hair. The mother knows she’s doing the finger waving, the girl plays with her hair because she is nervous, and she does it without even being aware. I think Emma replicated the girl who plays with her hair by saying, “It’s a really nice car, this is,” and smiling at me like an idiot.