The Downfall Series Box Set

by Edie Baylis

  Need to pull in a favour. Meet you at the Mitre on Weds. 8 pm.

  Let me know if you can’t make it.

  D

  Sally read it again. Who was ‘D’? It didn’t look like a woman’s handwriting. A favour? She took another long drink of the wine. So now what? Should she go? She might be able to learn something about Jim from whoever he was meeting.

  Quickly folding the letter up and placing it back in the envelope, Sally put it on the table and poured the remains of the bottle into her glass. She had several days to think about it. She’d just finish this drink and then go and meet Maggie.

  “YOU DO MAKE ME LAUGH!” Dan smiled from their table at the Mitre.

  “And why’s that?” Seth grinned, tipping yet another pint into his mouth.

  “Well, for a start you were at it virtually all night with that bird from the club and now you’re planning another all-nighter?” Dan stared at Jim, still unable to read anything behind his eyes.

  He was actually quite envious. He’d barely got a look-in during the scheduled beating last night at the Glint. Jim had been so fast and the ferocity with which he meted out the warning had taken him aback a little.

  He knew his instincts had been right about the man, but he hadn’t expected him to be quite so thorough. So detailed. So controlled. He’d felt uncomfortable with the calculated coldness in which Jim had behaved. Not that he hadn’t seen and been party to beatings before now, it was just this had been on a different level.

  When Jim had whipped out a large knife and run one of the guys’ hands through on to the table, he’d managed to somehow contain his surprise.

  Dan took a large swig of his pint. He was used to working with guys in a predetermined order of events, not go into something unplanned. He hadn’t had a clue Jim was planning that move. Neither did he know he was carrying a blade until he’d used it.

  He’d looked like a wild animal as he’d savagely skewered that man and hadn’t missed the enjoyment he’d seen in Jim’s eyes either. No, this one was a piece of work alright and a very dangerous one.

  Dan watched Jim walk to the bar and nodded when he raised his glass to question as to whether he wanted a refill.

  Ok, so he’d also been slightly green with envy when all the girls swarmed around Jim in the club afterwards, whereas he’d hardly got a look in. He was normally quite handy with the ladies, but he’d felt invisible on the same table as Jim. Dan admitted the man was one handsome fucker, plus he’d got the added bonus of having that obvious air of danger about him that resonated from his very being, but he’d still felt put out.

  He also felt he’d let himself down by not being more hands-on and that he’d been more of an observer than anything else. Worse, he reckoned anyone else who’d witnessed it probably thought so too. Still, not a lot he could do about that now.

  Looking up, Dan tried to smile when a fresh pint was laid down for him and came to the conclusion he would tell his missus to give Jim a wide berth from now on. He couldn’t handle being second best in every department. He wasn’t used to it and didn’t like it, but was beginning to feel very much like that most of the time around this bloke.

  CHARLIE SCOWLED. NOW Eliza’s bruises had healed it seemed she’d regained her arrogant outlook on life. She was feeling smug that she’d escaped detection and further run-ins with Carter, but Charlie suspected it was more due to Carter not bothering to try and locate her. Not that he’d be telling Eliza that of course because then she’d be even more put out.

  It didn’t change that although Carter wasn’t going out of his way to look for her, Charlie knew if he got wind he’d allowed her the use of Crystals then he wouldn’t be happy. He’d be even less happy to know she wasn’t even turning tricks for her bed and board.

  Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Charlie scowled watching the pout on Eliza’s face deepen as she stared accusingly at him. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the next petulant whining comment escaped from between her pumped up lips. Jesus. He had to keep up the façade of being crazy about her, but genuinely didn’t know how much longer he could put up with her tantrums. It was grating on his tits.

  “I’ve told you before, Charlie. I’m not doing it!” Eliza repeated.

  Charlie sighed. “But babe, that’s what we agreed and it’s only for a couple of weeks.”

  Eliza had been at Crystals now for almost a week and had steadfastly refused to do fuck all apart from preen herself back into shape after Carter’s beating.

  Charlie had forked out a small fortune with getting her extensions and everything else replaced, whilst having to put up with the catty remarks and grief from the rest of the tarts in this shit hole. It seemed Eliza was intent on winding them up as much as possible and as usual he ended up having to deal with it.

  The only thing keeping him from throwing the stupid bitch in the river was that he’d be sorted once this had pulled off. Thankfully then he could then tell her where to fuck off to.

  Charlie glanced up again at Eliza’s sulky face. “Ok, well instead of the punters here why don’t you concentrate on keeping some of our lads happy? Make yourself useful that way?”

  Eliza narrowed her eyes through her thick false eyelashes. “What? You expect me to continue to service Ernie’s ugly henchmen?”

  “No, not them. There’s some other guys I had in mind.” Charlie knew Dan and Jim wouldn’t say no to a bit of extra with Eliza. She was a decent enough looking bird. At least with all her false shit on anyhow. He’d just have to forewarn them she’d been Carter’s missus.

  He smiled. They’d probably find that amusing. He knew he had. Furthermore, it wasn’t as if she was riddled with anything, unlike most of the tarts at Crystals. At least not yet she wasn’t. He fully intended to get her working with the other no hopers, but not until he didn’t have to fuck her anymore. He didn’t want to put his dick into anything diseased.

  Charlie smiled as he draped his arm around Eliza’s shoulder. “They do some work for me, babe and they’re not going to be able to resist you. Who would?” Gritting his teeth, he began delicately kissing Eliza’s neck. “Just like I can’t...”

  “I’ll think about it,” Eliza said, “but I want to see them first. I told you - I’m through with doing munters.”

  “Ok babe. Whatever you want. I’m just trying to make sure we can be together as soon as possible.” Yeah right. The sooner all of this was over, the better.

  Eliza reached down to undo Charlie’s flies and he smiled. If he could shove his cock in her mouth perhaps she wouldn’t start banging on about their bloody wedding.

  TWENTY

  “SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Sheila sat opposite Bill in his office and continued sipping at the glass of wine he’d poured for her. She smiled. She thought the world of Bill. They had plenty of history together. In fact, one of her three children was his. Not that he’d ever told his last two wives that of course. They were clueless about what he did to say the least and their paranoia and jealousy would surely have got him grief about working with her.

  Of course Bill knew Samantha was his child and he’d always seen her right. Regardless of any of that, he trusted Sheila’s judgement. Knew she’d got the brains – especially in this game and she hadn’t let him down yet. Nor did she intend to, hence her reticence to throw the towel in and take early retirement until she’d found a suitable replacement.

  She’d been beginning to despair she’d ever find someone she felt fitted the bill - at least not to the standard she expected and she’d been beginning to fear she’d be here for the foreseeable future. That was until the other day.

  Bill pulled on his cigar and eyed Sheila’s ample chest, her cleavage visible from the low-cut top she was sporting and thought she still looked cracking even in her fifties. He frowned as he mulled over her proposition. He trusted her implicitly, but even so her suggestion was a huge risk. “But you don’t know this woman from Adam!”

  “You’re right,” Sheila smiled, holding B
ill’s gaze. “But I do know when someone has a certain something when I see it. Surely you trust my judgement by now?”

  Placing his hand on Sheila’s, Bill smiled. “You know I do.”

  “Look, there’s something behind this woman’s eyes I haven’t seen for a long time and I just know when it’s right, that’s all.”

  Bill scrutinised Sheila once again. She didn’t even know whether this woman she was suggesting had any experience of the industry - just that she was one of them. “Women’s intuition,” she’d said.

  He smiled to himself. He couldn’t argue with that. At least not Sheila’s intuition anyway. God he loved that woman. He’d have married her years back if he’d had his way, but she’d been adamant she didn’t want to go down that road. Didn’t want to spoil their friendship and the phenomenal understanding they had of each other. Still, at least she’d always been part of his life and they worked well together. Always had.

  That was another reason why Bill didn’t want Sheila to leave. In fact, he’d been glad she hadn’t been able to find anyone suitable but also knew her heart was set on going and eventually she’d find the right person. Now, if her instincts were correct, it looked like she had.

  Placing his crystal tumbler on his desk, Bill smiled at Sheila who was watching him closely and waiting for his response. “You know I trust your judgement,” he said quietly, seeing her raise one of her eyebrows questioningly. “And I’m happy to go with what you say.”

  A big grin broke out over Sheila’s face at Bill’s words.

  “But,” he continued. “I want to meet this woman myself first and weigh her up.”

  Sheila nodded. “I think you’ll agree with what I’ve said.”

  “Well if I do, then she’s good to go. Can you get her here tomorrow?”

  Sheila frowned. “I doubt it, I’m not seeing her until next week.”

  “Next week?” Bill frowned. “Just call her and tell her to come over.”

  Sheila grinned mischievously. “I can’t. I don’t have her number or even know where she lives. I’ve arranged to meet her for a coffee in the café next week.” Seeing Bill look towards the ceiling in mock despair, she continued. “Besides, she might not even be interested or may have found another job by then.”

  “You mean you haven’t even discussed it with her?” Bill looked flabbergasted.

  Sheila glared at him indignantly. “Of course not! I’d hardly suggest something without discussing it with you first would I?”

  Bill smiled. Of course she wouldn’t. He should have known better. Another example of why Sheila would be impossible to replace. “Fair enough. When you meet up with her next week, tell her your thoughts and arrange for her to come and see me if she’s interested and then we’ll go from there.”

  Sheila got up from the chair and finished the dregs from her wine glass. She planted a kiss on Bill’s cheek. “Will do. Right love, got to go. I’ve got the grandkids tonight.”

  Bill smiled once again as he watched Sheila’s shapely behind disappear from his office.

  DIGGER EYED THE MAN he’d left on the floor of the concrete warehouse and sighed resolutely. That had been a relatively easy job. He wiped his hands down his faded jeans before running his fingers through his short blond mohican. Retrieving his leather jacket from the chair, he shrugged it on to his massive shoulders and walked casually over to a table where he’d placed the envelope containing the cash the man owed.

  Looking over to the man eyeing him warily through his already bruising eyelids, he grinned savagely. “Presume you won’t be late with the money next month, mate?”

  The man shook his head as quickly as he could manage. “Rest assured, Digger, I won’t. I can promise you that,” he mumbled through his smashed teeth. “Please send my apologies to Phil. I was only late with the payment cos my missus was giving me fucking grief about a holiday. You know what birds are like. It won’t happen again.”

  Digger smiled and picked up his crash helmet. “Make sure it doesn’t. You need to get your priorities right mate, don’t you?” Silly cunt.

  Leaving the man to pick himself up from the floor, Digger left the warehouse and walked towards his black motorbike. He’d get on the road back to the Chapter House and take the readies back to Phil. He could do with a fucking drink. It just wasn’t the same these days. Not without the old crew.

  The ride back passed in a blur. Digger’s mind was elsewhere thinking about the old days and how it had been. It had been bloody tragic how it had ended up though. How it had ended for Seth – his manic, crazy, lunatic mate who fought like a tiger and was as unhinged as a rusty old door and Jane – the livewire.

  God, how he’d wanted her. Except he wasn’t that lucky. Well, he had been once or twice, but he’d had to swallow Jane’s love for Seth in the end. Not that it had made any of them happy.

  The trouble was he hadn’t swallowed it had he? Oh, he’d tried to be happy for Seth and Jane. Despite his dalliances with Jane behind Seth’s back and the way he’d felt about her and even though he knew he had no future with her, he hadn’t been able to help feeling he could step nicely into place if Seth wasn’t around.

  It had even crossed his mind to walk out of the flat the night he’d found Seth. The only reason he’d phoned Phil was because he’d thought the man was dead. He’d certainly fucking looked it.

  Much to his shame there had been a part of him which was disappointed when it had been confirmed Seth was still alive. Only just though, so there had still been a good chance he’d get a look in. Sadly, that had also been ripped away when against all odds the fucker had recovered. Physically at least.

  Digger knew he’d committed the cardinal sin. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but it had just been too tempting not to. As promised, he’d gone to the nick to see Jane, but instead of going in he’d stood outside the prison gates for over an hour arguing with the angel and the devil sitting on his opposing shoulders.

  Making his decision, he’d got back on his bike and taken a very slow ride home. By the time he’d reached the Chapter House he’d gone over the story so many times in his head he’d almost convinced himself it had been true. Jane had killed herself.

  Once Digger had uttered the words, he hadn’t been able to take them back. He’d known straight away he’d made a horrible mistake when he’d seen the pain, shock and guilt on Phil’s face.

  Phil’s reaction however was nothing compared to Seth’s and Digger knew he’d forever have to live with his secret. His plans of running off into the sunset with Jane had also taken a back seat because, thanks to him pretending she no longer needed the brief, she’d got a considerable stretch.

  However, she’d be due for release the next year or so and he’d decided at that point he’d leave the Chapter and all his connections behind and go and find her. Jane may even be free already, but he didn’t dare put the feelers out. In the interim he was pulling in as much money as possible so as to be ready. Maybe they could go to Spain or somewhere and start afresh.

  The most important thing was that Jane never learnt Seth was still alive, otherwise all of this would have been for nothing.

  The last thing Digger wanted was to get involved with Seth again and could not believe his bad luck that all this with Phil’s old man should kick off now. Still with any luck it wouldn’t take long to sort out.

  Pulling up outside the Chapter House, Digger parked his bike alongside the others in the row of chromed-up machines.

  “Alright, mate?” Phil shouted as he opened the metal front door, the moon’s bright glare reflecting almost amusingly off his cleanly-shaven head. “All sorted?”

  “Piece of piss!” Digger laughed, following Phil into the Chapter House. He smiled in greeting at the other bikers drinking around the open-plan ground floor and happily accepted the pint handed to him.

  Phil jerked his head for Digger to follow him to a quiet part of the back room and as they both sat down, Digger reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the
envelope of collected cash.

  Phil smiled. “I’ll sort out your cut in a moment. I want to ask you about where you are with sourcing the personnel for Bill.”

  Digger took a long draught of his pint. “Wednesday. I sent the letter to the address we hold and I haven’t heard anything back, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s on.”

  Phil nodded. He pulled a cigarette from his packet and tapped it on the table. “Let’s hope so. Phase one kicked off, so it’s all happening. From my side I’ve been lining up more deliveries of coke to cover the extra we’ll need now we’re supplying the Glint.” He grinned, exposing his gold tooth. “When it all pulls off we’ll need to source more for Crystals.”

  Digger placed one foot on a small stool to the left of his chair. “So what’s the crack with what’s needed?”

  “I haven’t been given the full details yet, but to cut a long story short, I don’t think it will be a case of playing too many cat and mouse games with this Carter prick. He’s meeting Bill next week and he reckons the bloke’s going to do something really fucking laughable like demand his coke back, or start throwing veiled threats around,” Phil grinned. “Bill will of course let him carry on and then send those guys back in to up the ante again.”

  “He’ll give Carter a couple of shots at playing the game for amusement value and then he’ll just demand Crystals,” Phil continued. “If he even tries to resist we’ll take it by force.”

  “What about Carter’s cronies?”

  “They won’t be a problem. In fact none of them will I wouldn’t doubt. Regardless, we’ll still need you guys to dispose of Carter.”

  Digger held Phil’s gaze. “I take it you mean permanently?”

  “You take it right, yes. Bill’s already got a couple of decent guys who have completed phase one for him, but as he had to use unknown faces he obviously doesn’t want to request that from them.”