A glance around revealed to Billy that he was in an abandoned quarry, although it appeared that some regeneration work had been done in an attempt to give the land a more natural appearance. An artificial lake was evidence of this, along with a large area of woodland on the far side of it. The work obviously hadn’t been finished though as there was still a collection of what would have been processing buildings located to the side of the hard-standing area.
“What do you think?” Lincoln asked.
Billy stepped away when he saw the flick knife in the enforcer’s hand although the blade wasn’t on show. It was still an ominous sign in a bad situation. He still couldn’t believe he’d been driven out to an abandoned quarry to be killed because of a payment that was only a day late, but whatever was going on didn’t bode well for him. The impulse to run came over him, but he suspected on this occasion, no one would chase him. If he fled, it would likely end with a bullet between his shoulder blades or being run over by a sedan.
“Umm…, think about what, Mr. Holt?”
“About this place, Billy,” Lincoln said in a voice that sounded almost jovial.
“Oh, yeah…, it’s impressive,” Billy blurted out.
It was the only thing he could think to say and he wasn’t even sure why he was being asked what he thought.
“Nice setting for a chat, don’t you think?”
“A chat about what, Mr. Holt,” Billy replied.
He took another step away when a flick of the wrist by Lincoln brought out the blade of the knife.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lincoln said. “What about this rumor of a new man trying to muscle into our drug business? What do you know about that?”
“I don’t…”
Billy snapped his mouth shut when Lincoln lifted a hand to silence him.
“Think about it before you say anything,” the enforcer warned. “You really, really don’t want to upset me out here.”
“All I’ve heard is rumors too,” Billy said.
“Which are?” Lincoln asked.
“His name is supposedly Brett Collins and he’s been making noises about becoming a supplier.”
“Come on, Billy,” Lincoln went on. “You have your nose in everyone’s business. You’re famous for it. Are you seriously telling me that’s all you know?”
“I swear it is, Mr. Holt.”
The expression hardened on Lincoln’s face and he turned to his compatriot.
“Let’s find out if he’s telling the truth,” he said.
Billy panicked when the man drew the handgun from under his belt and aimed it at him.
“I’m…, I’m telling the truth,” he stammered. “I don’t…”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man snarled when he stepped forward.
Billy wanted to run, but his legs weakened as they shook and he knew he would never escape. The gun was pressed to his forehead and he closed his eyes as he was engulfed in a flood of primal anguish.
“Boom,” the man yelled and laughed when Billy flinched.
He lowered the gun to slide it under his belt then moved into position to restrain his captive. Billy could do nothing as his arms were pinned tightly behind his back and held in place. He watched as Lincoln approached and feared the worst as the knife was raised. It made him close his eyes and he almost whimpered when his hair was grabbed to yank his head to the side.
“Open your eyes,” Lincoln rasped in a menacing voice.
“Please, Mr. Holt,” Billy pleaded desperately when he complied with the instruction.
“Do you want that fucking lake to be your final resting place,” Lincoln threatened.
“No…, no, Mr. Holt,” Billy stammered. “But I…”
His words ended when the knife was moved slowly from side to side in front of his face. The grip on his hair held his head in place and he was forced to watch the blade coming closer until the touch of cold metal pressed on his cheek. The prick of pain made him grit his teeth together and he feared that things were about to get out of hand. That wouldn’t be good for him.
“So all you know is his name.”
“I’m telling the truth, Mr. Holt,” Billy spluttered. The pain increased as the blade bit into his skin and his voice grew even more pathetic. “Please, Mr. Holt…, I don’t know any more. If I did, I would say. What reason would I have to hold out on you?”
The relief of the blade pulling away from his face was short lived, when a punch slammed into his guts. The man behind held his arms tightly to stop him doubling up and another punch thudded into his ribs.
“You better be telling me the truth, Billy,” Lincoln warned. “Because if I find out you’re lying to me…”
Billy could barely get the words out as the pain of the punches swept through him, but he forced himself to speak.
“I’d never lie to you, Mr. Holt. All I’ve heard are the rumors of the guy’s name and that he’s around. I’ve never met him and don’t want to. I don’t intend to work for anyone but you.”
The grip on his arms tightened as Lincoln stepped closer and raised his hand. Billy could feel the trickle of blood running down from the cut on his cheek to the corner of his mouth. It got him the taste and he couldn’t stop the thought of flicking out his tongue coming in his head. He stared at the knife when it was waved in front of his face before he remembered something.
“Maybe I should…,” Lincoln started, but he was interrupted.
“I have some other information that might be of interest to you,” Billy blurted out to try and ward off another attack.
“Oh, really,” Lincoln let out skeptically, but lowered the knife. “And what would that be?”
“Matt Harris,” Billy managed to say through his struggles to catch his breath. “He’s out.”
Lincoln frowned as he stared.
“He’s been released from prison?”
“That’s what I’m hearing,” Billy said.
“Is that four years already?” Lincoln went on.
“It must be,” Billy answered. “The story I heard is that he won’t be showing his face though.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s joined some state sponsored scheme for ex-prisoners,” Billy said. “It’s supposed to help them stay on the straight and narrow…, or some shit like that.”
“Well, well,” Lincoln commented as he turned away. “That is interesting. Do you know where he is?”
“No,” Billy said. “All I know is what I’ve told you.”
Lincoln spun around and moved right up to Billy. He grabbed the drug dealer’s hair to yank his head to the side.
“If you hear anything about this Brett prick, I want to know about it.”
“Yes sir…, yes, Mr. Holt,” Billy garbled as the pain of the grip on his hair bit into him.
Lincoln Holt’s comment brought him some respite, however, in that it showed he wasn’t in imminent danger of being killed. It didn’t mean the pain was over though and he held his breath as he waited for things to play out to an end. A disgusted look crossed the enforcer’s face when he let go of greasy hair and looked at his palm. He made a show of wiping it on Billy’s jacket.
“You need a new shampoo,” he said.
Billy heard the snigger of the man behind and let his breath out slowly as Lincoln walked away.
“What do we do with him?” the man asked.
“He can go,” Lincoln said without looking.
The man released his grip and a shove between the shoulder blades sent his captive tumbling to the ground. He stepped forward to kick Billy hard in the guts and leave him curled up in the fetal position as more pain engulfed his body.
“Don’t make me chase you next time,” he growled, then walked off to catch up with his boss.
The driver was already sitting in the car and was ordered to return to base when the other two got in. The three of them looked out at Billy struggling to his feet as the journey got underway.
“We should have left him buried there,” the
man in the back seat said.
“He was telling the truth,” Lincoln replied. “He knows better than to lie to me.”
“He’s a waste of space,” the man went on.
“Yeah,” Lincoln agreed. “But he might be a useful waste of space.”
The rest of the drive passed in relative silence and Lincoln got out of the car when it came to a stop in the parking lot next to the large house.
“What do you want us to do now?” the driver asked.
“Wait here,” Lincoln ordered. “I don’t know what the boss will say.”
The front door opened as he approached it, but he said nothing to the man when he stepped inside. Heading for the stairs to climb to the first floor, he moved along to the room at the end of a corridor. He knocked and walked in straight away. The short, squat man sitting behind the desk looked up.
“Well?” Eddie Millar said.
Lincoln shook his head.
“Billy doesn’t know any more than we do,” he said and moved across to sit at the chair beside the desk. “The guy’s name is Brett Collins, but we knew that already.”
Eddie scowled as he thumped his hand down on the desk.
“You’re sure he’s telling the truth?” he demanded. “From what you’ve told me before, that little prick usually has his finger on the pulse of what’s happening.”
“Definitely,” Lincoln replied. “He wasn’t about to die keeping information from me.”
Eddie got to his feet and moved out from behind the desk to pace the floor. He clenched his fists as his anger swelled, but it was a few moments before he spoke.
“I want this fucking guy found.”
“We will,” Lincoln assured his boss. “All we need is a few days to track him down and we can take care of him.”
“I want him alive,” Eddie went on and tried to let his anger drain away. “For all we know, he might be someone we can use.”
“By all accounts, he’s trying to muscle in on our business,” Lincoln pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better to get rid of him?”
“Maybe,” Eddie agreed. “That might be what we do, but let’s get him here first. We can decide what to do once we find out what he’s up to.”
Lincoln nodded his head and tried not to let the surprise show on his face. His boss’s reputation wasn’t built on him being lenient with competitors although it wasn’t unknown for him to cut deals. That was usually with people he knew and Brett Collins was an outsider. He wasn’t about to argue the point and watched as Eddie moved towards the desk to sit down.
“Billy did give me some other information,” he went on. “Supposedly, our old friend Matt Harris is a free man again.”
Eddie laughed as he settled down in his seat.
“So, we can expect a visit then,” he commented.
“Apparently not,” Lincoln said. “Billy’s story was that Matt has joined some government scheme for ex-cons.”
“Matt Harris?” Eddie said and his head rocked back when he laughed harder. “What the hell chance has he got of going straight? All he knows is how to use his fists and there aren’t many jobs that require that skill.”
Lincoln shrugged his shoulders.
“Billy said he didn’t know any more than that,” he said. “Do you want me to find out where Matt is and get him in here?”
Eddie was quiet for a few seconds, as if his mind was ticking over.
“No,” he said. “But I’d be interested to know what’s going on, so get this Billy to check it out. Matt probably doesn’t know him and I don’t want any contact for the moment. Find out where he is and what he’s doing. He might be useful at some point.”
Eddie pressed his palms together and a smile flashed across his face.
“What are your plans for him?” Lincoln asked.
“I might have something in mind,” Eddie said. “You get your boy to check out Matt’s situation…, and get me information on this Brett fucker. I want an address, so we can pay him a visit.”
Lincoln stared across the desk, but his boss remained silent and it was a signal that the discussions were at an end. He got to his feet and moved over to the door before speaking.
“Anything else?” he asked, but Eddie shook his head.
Lincoln exited the room and went to carry out the orders he’d been given. In minutes, he and the driver were heading out in the direction of the abandoned quarry they left not long before. They came across Billy walking along the side of a road. He didn’t run this time and simply halted when he saw the car approaching. Lincoln opened the passenger door to get out when the car stopped.
“Need a ride?” he asked.
“Do I have a choice?” Billy replied.
Lincoln simply raised his eyebrows in answer and got in the car. He turned as the back door opened and watched the small-time drug dealer settle down in the seat. Reaching in his pocket, he brought out a handkerchief and held it out. Billy took it to press against his cheek and wipe away the blood.
“Thanks, Mr. Holt.”
“Billy, Billy,” Lincoln said as the car did a U-turn to head in to town. “Here’s what you’re going to do for me.”
Chapter 4
“Sit down, Brigitte.”
She glanced towards her father from where she was standing at the kitchen window and shook her head.
“I’m too anxious,” she told him.
“You don’t even know if anything will be delivered today.”
“It’s Friday,” she replied. “The woman that interviewed me definitely said that I would hear one way or the other by the end of the week.”
“That could be tomorrow,” her father pointed out. “The mail does get delivered on a Saturday.”
“It could be today though,” Brigitte said and shrugged her shoulders.
She glanced at the clock on the wall to see it was almost eight in the morning, then returned her gaze out of the window to watch for the approach of the mailman. Her father picked up the cup in front of him to take a sip of coffee.
“You should have some breakfast,” he said after setting the cup down on the table.
“I wouldn’t be able to keep it down.”
“You need to try and relax,” he went on. “There’s no point in working yourself into a state about this job. It’s great if you get it, but it’s not a disaster if you don’t. There will be plenty of other opportunities for you to aim for.”
Brigitte wasn’t sure she agreed with his sentiments because she’d set her sights on getting the job and knew how disappointing it would be to miss out. She leaned closer to the window in an attempt to look further along the street and was sure she caught a glimpse of a uniform. The mailman usually showed up about around eight o’clock, so she was sure it was him and was on the move straight away to leave the kitchen. She walked to the door to step outside and saw it was the person she wanted. It meant she was standing at the gate when the mailman arrived.
“Is it your birthday or something?” he teased when he saw her waiting.
“Expecting a letter about a job opportunity,” Brigitte replied.
“Ah, OK, it might be one of these then,” he went on and handed over what he was holding. “Hope it’s good news for you.”
“Thanks,” Brigitte replied and smiled.
She started searching through the letters before the mailman moved on, but it quickly became apparent that the one she was looking for wasn’t there. The disillusionment showed on her face when she returned to the kitchen and was picked up on by her father.
“Nothing?” he queried.
She put a rueful smile on her face and shook her head as she moved across the room to sit down at the table.
“A couple of bills and some business letters for you, I think,” she said and handed them over to him.
“You can keep the bills if you want,” her father joked.
“But I need a job to help you pay them,” she said in a downbeat voice.
“You know you can work for me,” he told her.
“I don’t need your pity,” she said and couldn’t keep the smirk from her face as she reached for the pot to pour some coffee in a cup.
“It’s not pity,” her father replied. “You put yourself out after you graduated and helped me when I needed it.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But you’re sorted now and have your business dealings running smoothly. It’s now up to me to put my social sciences degree to good use or it will be a waste of three years at college.”
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