That eases his pain slightly, and I can see his shoulders loosen. Christ, how I wish I could speak to him candidly, unscrutinized by the dangerous party that surrounds us.
‘Here. Have a cold mocha,’ says Samson, sliding one of the coffee cups over to him. Tina gets up from her chair, and rounds the table to him.
‘How you doing, Jack?’ she says, and she leans down to hug him. Jack says nothing and accepts the embrace in silence, which in no way does he return. Felix speaks up.
‘Jack, you are carrying yourself around with the air of a broken man, and I understand that. You have had something so vital stripped from you. But you have had something that so few in your situation would have - the chance to look into your enemy’s eyes, and tell him what you think of him’.
All I can personally remember of what Jack told Sparkles was about his hairy arse, but I get Felix’s point.
‘Whether you killed Sparkles or not, by destroying his business, you have taken more from him than taking his life. If he is still alive, you have destroyed that which he has built, and his family before him has built, and left him with nothing - a fate which I am sure he would view as at least as bad as death, if not worse.
Jack watches him, as Tina takes her seat again. It has been so interesting to watch the chemistry at play here, with the symbiotic relationship between the members, the partners and their boss - a criminal organism all of it’s own.
‘You have a chance to move on, you have a chance to leave what happened behind -’
‘And join you?’ Jack interrupts. That hits the atmosphere hard like a hammer, rendering it silently charged and electrically crystalline. A boiling silence begins, and before it combusts, Felix inhales sharply.
‘I loved your father,’ he says. ‘Don’t you dare forget that. You may not have agreed with what your father wanted, but you are missing the plain fact that it was indeed exactly what he wanted. He came to me, and acted entirely of his own volition. You can’t take that back, and you need to accept that that was precisely the way it was. And when things went wrong, you came to me, and I helped you after you begged for information. You emotionally blackmailed me into setting you on a course that I know your father would have disapproved of. And then, of all things, you march in here disrespecting the very same group of people who are equally broken by your father’s death. After everything, how dare you speak to us in this way? He was like a son to me, he was a brother to Michael, and he was family to these men and women.’
Jack looks down, the strength of Felix’s speech and stare too much for him to repel. Now there are tears on Felix’s cheeks, as he struggles to keep it together, anger and grief bubbling to tipping point. It has been visible every moment of being in Felix’s company, that the death of Royston has hit him very hard. I know there is much more to Felix than a sniffling old man, but seeing him reduced to this is something I find hard to watch despite myself. My weaknesses creeping to the fore yet again. I look away, and catch movement by the door.
There is a person there - a woman, in a jumper and jeans. The peroxide bob is unmistakable. Zoe. How long has she been there? She wasn’t there before, I’m convinced. Maybe she came in after Jack? Her expression is anxious, as she watches the verbals at distance.
‘What about you?’ Jack says, and it takes me a moment to realize he is talking to me.
‘What about me, Jack?’ I say, my eyes pleading with him, but he is just not getting it. He’s too far gone. I don’t want to make things worse, and, despite my interest in the criminal faction we are sitting with, I feel a pang of loyalty towards him again. ‘Look, let’s go.’
Felix is still staring Jack down, burning a regret-filled hole through him. Jack isn’t taking him on. Another churning quiet kicks in, and to stave it off, I get up.
‘It was a pleasure meeting you all,’ I say, and start circling the table to Jack’s side. ‘And I appreciate you putting me up last night, Felix.’
Felix cools instantaneously, his frown opening up.
‘It was my pleasure, Ben. I would say look after him, but I know you will. Is there anything I can do for you, before you go?’
I think about that. Ordinarily there is nothing that Felix has that I could possibly want, but on this occasion, he might be able to get something I badly need.
‘There is something I could do with... and I’ve been struggling to find it. A new identity. Completely new. I’m looking for a new passport, driving license, national insurance number, employment references, medical history, the whole lot.’
Felix raises his eyebrows, as if surprised.
‘My name is associated with bloodshed and failure,’ I say. I want to leave it behind, and start a whole new life. I am finding it hard to do that with my current... social standing, shall we say.’ Never mind the bit about being an escaped convict.
‘I have a guy,’ Michael says. ‘I think he may be able to help you out. Let me get back to you.’
‘It would be our pleasure,’ adds Felix.
‘I’d appreciate that a lot,’ I reply, genuinely. That would save me a massive ball-ache.
A smattering of goodbye’s rise from the table, as finally Jack rises also. We begin heading back towards the kitchen, when Felix speaks again.
‘Gents, if you fancy a pint tonight, we are having a drink together over at Lumen, about 8 o’clock. It would be really nice if you could both be there. Try to have a social occasion, put these sadder times to the back of our minds.’
‘And I’ll look into that stuff for you,’ says Michael.
‘I appreciate that,’ I say. ‘Perhaps see you later then.’
We leave, and as we go we pass Zoe. She looks at Jack with concern, and smiles at me weakly, then she heads to the main table. Her role is unclear to me, and I don’t get her involvement. If the men are väktare and Felix is the toppmöte, what is she? Is she another ingredient to this criminal recipe, or something else entirely? As we walk through the kitchen, I think of how close I was to getting some real answers on the extent, scope and scale of Felix’s business, which in turn would give me a chance to use it to my advantage. I think, as far as me and my intentions go, tonight is a must.
We pass through that grand wooden front door, into the driveway, and almost before we’ve stepped off the porch, Jack combusts.
‘What the fuck are you doing in there?! Playing house and happy families?!’ he fires, pointing back at the house animatedly.
‘Jack, it’s a stock phrase oft-used, but it’s not what it looks like,’ I reply. ‘Calm down.’
‘Fuck off. Didn’t you listen to anything I told you about them? Didn’t it mean anything to you?!’
‘Every word and of course it did. Calm. Down. Let’s talk somewhere else, ok?’
‘I asked for your help, not for you to get seduced. They are not what you think,’
‘I am a lot of things Jack, but I’m no fool. Is your car here?’
‘No, Zoe brought me.’
We start walking down the driveway, which turns quickly into a long bare road along the waterfront. When we get a fair way from the house, I speak up again.
‘We need to talk about her. She’s the only piece of this puzzle I don’t get so far.’
‘Get fucked. I’m not telling you shit. You’re shaping up like just another one.’
‘Sparkles said he didn’t do it.’
That shuts him up. I press on.
‘He said that we had got the wrong impression, and that he did not kill your dad. He, just like Felix, said that he doesn’t do business that way.’
‘He’s lying.’
‘Why? Why would he lie? Aren’t crime bosses supposed to take pride in the amount of blood they have shed to get where they are? Nobody here seems to want any dirt under their fingernails whatsoever!’
‘He’s lying. I know it. He’s a fucking liar.’
‘Jack, I have had to do my fair share of interrogation. It turns out, that my superiors saw something in me that they felt could handl
e putting the squeeze on another human being. Interrogation can sometimes get physical. In those dark moments, I have seen a lot of men lie and those same men eventually tell the truth. But you always know the moment they’ve turned because they always betray it in some way. You can see it coming, and it becomes very hard to miss. Sparkles, last night, never did so. When he protested his innocence he carried the hallmarks of it too.’
‘So your a bloody psychic now, too?’
‘It’s not infallible. Nothing like that, packed full of variables, ever is. But I wasn’t usually wrong with these things. And I don’t think I am now.’
‘So what, Felix’s the liar?’
‘It’s a possibility, but perhaps he was misinformed. We are talking about a criminal underbelly that, however flashy and glamorous, is still a criminal underbelly, full of the lowlifes, cheats and scumbags as any other. Who knows what false truths are being told about your dad’s passing.’
Jack doesn’t like that, and if I heard that about my dad, I wouldn’t either. He wants answers, and the minute answers have been afforded him, they are being so heavily scrutinized as to layer them with doubt. No wonder he is hacked off.
‘Jack, I need to tell you a few things about what I’ve done, and what I intend to do, and I want you to listen to me.’
Jack checks his stride, and slows his tempo, like he may have tripped a little, perhaps fearing another alteration to his immediate landscape.
‘My loyalties here lie with yourself, so please don’t be twisted about that. I have a purpose and intentions. But my main concern at this point is Sparkles. If he is innocent of your dad’s killing, and he is alive, he is going to be one pissed off individual. He’s willing to fight dirty, if pushed - he proved that by sending that killer to the Premier Inn to take you out. We just obliterated his business, and I can only picture he will want retribution. So then there is the problem that your dad may have been killed by another party altogether. I think it’s worth checking out. We need to go back to the drawing board, because, for now, the info from Felix doesn’t lead any further than it already has. That’s what I’m going to do today, and we are going to that get-together tonight.’
‘Fuck that, I’m not having a little shindig with those creeps.’
I think about it, and he’s probably right. I don’t want him to blow it for me.
‘Understood, Jack. You don’t have to. I must ask though - what loyalties do you have towards the people in the house we just left?’
We reach the main road, having followed the driveway along the water. There isn’t any traffic, and we are forced to turn left. Over the water, the sun bounces off the steel exoskeleton of the Lowry Centre, creating the illusion of a second sunrise, on this quiet Sunday morning.
‘What do you mean?’ Jack asks, burying his hands in his pockets, as if to keep them from fidgeting.
I’m going to tell him now the other reason why I am so interested.
‘Before you asked me to help you, I had an agenda. It involved a man in London, who had put me in a very sticky situation that saw me arrested. I’m no angel at all, Jack, and while I was in the pen, I changed. The bitterness I had for what happened has gone, and now all I can do is pity the society that put me there. But I won’t give up on it - I can’t. I engineered an escape plan, that would see me marched to the front door and let loose on the quiet, with an insurance policy in place that would give me at least 15 years to get shit done.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘By hook or by crook, I am going to clean up this festering, fetid shit-pile that Britain has become. I’m going to do my part. I’m a soldier, Jack. A problem-solver. A man with specific skills that have no application other than in those specified. I will always fight for my country, and now I feel my country needs me more than ever. I was on my way to London to get started. So tell me again, what loyalty do you carry towards the Berg?’
‘None whatsoever. But why is that relevant?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes! Why?’
‘Because they are exactly the kind of people this country could do without. And when we find out who killed your father, they are the next in my sights. I intend to put them out of business, for good.’
That sways Jack to a standstill, as if I have jolted his balance with a silent, sonic, seismic strike. He looks down, as if the very ground might quake and crumble, and lurch him into an abyss.
‘You... are using me?’ he mutters, his voice low and laced with fissures.
‘No. Not once. Like I said, that is for after we have found your dad’s killer, not before, and not at the same time. I am loyal to you.’
Jack stands still as if movement might make what I have said more real.
‘I am asking for nothing from you, Jack, only that you let me continue. The social niceties back in Felix’s house, the evening drinks... it’s all about gathering intel for their downfall. Don’t believe, for one minute, that I am suckered in by them or their lifestyle.’
Jack eventually looks up at me, cold, distant, pushed, his trust and faith in people ever taking a battering. I feel bad for him, because this hand he has been dealt was never ever what he wanted. He has been force-fed an involvement in something he didn’t want, and he seems ever more conflicted by the depths it makes him sink to. Bound by a history, bound by family. Just bound.
‘Zoe,’ he says.
I look at him. The peroxide mystery rears up for examination.
‘What about Zoe?’ I reply.
‘When you seek to end this business, is it a violent end you are planning?’
‘Violence is always my last resort, believe it or not. But some people only play with fire, and fire is the only way with which to address them. I don’t see that with the Berg.’
‘Zoe,’ Jack repeats.
‘Loyalty?’ I ask.
‘Not loyalty. It’s complicated.’
‘How complicated?’
Jack starts walking again, as if it helps his train of thought. ‘I grew up with her. She is...’
He can’t finish. It doesn’t look like he knows how to, so I try to tease it out of him.
‘You and her have something together?’
‘We grew up together. Back before I knew anything about this. I had always had this hope... Well, you know the rest.’
‘I don’t, but I’ll pretend I do. What is her involvement here?’
I don’t want to tell Jack that if she has any kind of cooperative involvement with the Berg, then she is just as much in my sights as they are.
‘Accountancy,’ says Jack.
‘She keeps the books?’ I reply.
‘Yes. She keeps everything in line, way behind the front line.’
‘Christ’. That’s pretty amazing. She’s not just a merry little helper, she’s an integral cog to this machine. Her importance on my radar just ballooned.
‘Are you going to hurt her?’ Jack looks genuinely worried, and years of hoping look like they may culminate in a violent, heart-breaking resolution, all thanks to himself, for involving this jumped-up do-gooder in his affairs.
‘I’ve no interest in hurting her Jack, understand that. But I have to take her down.’
Now I’m worried. Can I trust Jack not to say anything to her? I mean, how well do I really know Jack? Have I revealed my hand too early? I felt that telling him now was the right time, but Jesus...
I may well have to do something unpleasant to her. Something that would deeply upset Jack, and will surely result in him turning on me, if I haven’t already set the wheels for that in motion. But if Zoe is their book-keeper, she is also a rich source of evidence. All their dealings, will be mapped out somewhere. Profits, expenditures, jobs, employees, corrupted officials - the power of what is locked in her head is surely massive and mighty. And I might be forced to get that information out of her, come hell or high water. Jack wouldn’t like that one bit and I sincerely hope that his mind isn’t racing to where mine is.
Zoe i
s a delicate looking girl, who carries herself in a certain sensible way. How on earth she ended up in this is utterly beyond me.
‘How old is Zoe?’ I ask.
‘She’s 24,’ Jack responds. ‘Same as me.’
‘How did she become involved?’
‘I don’t know the ins and outs, but Felix took her in. She was very young when her parents died, leaving Felix to pick up the pieces.’
Interesting. Felix clearly has more than one offspring, and another layer to the man is suggested - one that is sensitive and caring enough to look after a child out in the cold. Very interesting. The crime lord with a heart of gold.
Further to that, I would imagine that her loyalties themselves are fiercely attached to the man who placed a roof over her head, when her parents passed away. I know mine would be. So if I want that incriminating information, it will be doubly hard to make her spill any.
I try not to think about it. But if I can get an audio or video recoding of a confession from her, naming all the names and explaining the Berg’s dealings to the letter, then I can just anonymously get that to the police, and they will do the rest. It would have to be the right person in the police. But I think I have an idea about that, about who may be the perfect candidate for the receipt of such information, and how best that information could be used for their downfall.
But the issue of Jack’s father is very much pressing, as is Sparkles. If he isn’t dead, we are marked men.
‘Let’s head to your place, Jack. I have a few things I want to look into,’ I say.
Jack shrugs, but doesn’t appear to resist. He seems saddened by it all, so beaten down by the hopelessness of the situation he finds himself in. I must admit to myself, that it would be hard not to feel used if the roles were reversed.
‘I don’t mean to exploit this position, and the information you have given me, Jack. But when it comes to the things I broke out of prison to achieve, this is an opportunity that is too good to pass, in a place I feel for. If the Berg are everything you say they are, and it seems they are exactly that, then both of us are doing this city and this country a favor.’
The Baby And The Brandy (Ben Bracken 1) Page 13