by Edie Baylis
“Shit, girl,” Ernie said, putting his head in his hands. “I’m going to kill the cunt!”
Eliza smiled. Job done. “Let me clean this mess up for you Ernie, but I’ll get you another drink first shall I?”
THIRTY EIGHT
SETH SMILED AT DIGGER and Phil as he cracked open another can. It had been a productive meeting between them all tonight. Bill had made it clear the big job on Carter would be happening shortly, but was unable to pinpoint an exact date, time or place. It was all very much dependent on how things panned out.
Whatever happened, Carter’s demise was assured. Seth completely understood matters such as these could not be conducted in any other way and so was therefore chilled about the finer details. Digger and Phil were also well aware of the score, so it was all good.
Leaning back in the chair, Seth stretched himself out languidly. It was funny how relaxed he was in their company even after all this time and with everything that had gone on in the past. It was like they’d all picked up where they’d left off. They didn’t have to say much to each other to know instinctively what the others were thinking - which was exactly how it should and needed to be in their line of work.
Seth quickly drained his can and reached for another. It had been amusing seeing Phil and Bill sitting next to each other. The only outward signs of Phil being Bill’s son were the identical piercing blue eyes they both shared and there the similarities ended.
Bill with his perfectly groomed suited and booted appearance and Phil looking every inch like the hard biker with no morals that he was. Mentally though they were definitely cut from the same cloth. Ruthless the pair of them.
“So when’s this Dan bloke going to be back?” Digger asked, taking a cigarette and passing the packet to Phil.
Seth shrugged. “Dunno. He may not be back until the morning. Not that it matters. He won’t have an issue with you staying.”
Digger chuckled. Very few people seemed to have an issue with anything they decided to do, apart from perhaps the exception of the people on the receiving end. Even that spoon, Charlie, who was on lock-down here had quickly scuttled off to his bedroom within seconds of the three of them walking into the lounge.
He knew when Bill had said the job would be on soon it would mean he needed to stay around. It was par for the course. He hadn’t been over the moon with the prospect of being stuck in a Travelodge for God knows how long, so had been grateful when Seth suggested he stay with him. It wasn’t like any of them could risk being associated with Bill’s flats or houses, so this seemed like a good idea all round.
Phil couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t be hands on with the job anyway and had things to run back home, so that was never going to be an option.
“Right, I’d better make tracks then fellas,” Phil boomed, getting to his feet and chucking his empty beer can in the waste-paper basket. He shook Seth’s hand when he too raised himself to his feet. “Good to see you again, man. Real good.”
“You too, Phil,” Seth smiled, slapping Phil on the back.
“We’ll keep in contact,” Digger said, shaking Phil’s hand and watched as nodding his goodbye, he left the room.
DAN IRRITABLY TRUDGED up the path to his house. He’d been hoping for a few shags with Maggie tonight, but that hadn’t worked out. Somehow his whereabouts was known and a message had got to him at her place via one of Bill’s runners that he was required to bring the parcels to the Glint. And it had to be tonight. Like now.
He knew by ‘parcels’ it meant Charlie and that Bill, or someone, wanted to see the man. This of course could be good news and maybe signalled the end of having to put up with Charlie’s slapped-arse sulky mug.
Dan had no choice but to leave Maggie even more angry and giving him grief about people knowing he was at hers and why they had her address. She’d started crying, asking what the hell he was involved in. There had been no placating her, so he’d beat a hasty exit. He was, however going to try and find out exactly what had gone on in her past to make her so jumpy.
Putting his key in the lock, Dan was about to turn it when the door opened from inside, causing him to fall through over the step. “Fuck!” he shouted, landing on his knees on the hall carpet.
As he was grabbed by the shoulder of his jacket and pulled to his feet, his eyes quickly reached the shaven-headed bulgy-eyed man.
“Sorry about that, mate,” Phil laughed, smacking Dan just that little bit too hard on the back. “I’m just leaving. Oh and thanks.”
Dan tried to smile as the man picked up a crash helmet from the hall table and stepped out of the door towards the heavily chromed chopper he’d failed to notice parked outside his house.
Shutting the door, Dan shook his head and tried not to analyse who had been in his house and exactly what he’d been thanking him for.
“Charlie!” he shouted, making his way towards the lounge. The sooner he could get rid of everyone, the better.
MAGGIE WAS EVEN MORE determined to get wasted now Dan had bailed. He’d done it again. Something suspect had happened and he’d disappeared like a shot. She slapped her hands down on the kitchen table in a pointless effort to stop them trembling.
She was well averse to shaking like a leaf. She’d spent many years living in fear, uncertainty and just plain panic waiting for the proverbial monster to appear from the bottom of the wardrobe.
Despite trying to convince herself of her escalating fear being paranoia, just how many times had she been right to trust her instinct? How many times had people told her she was ‘imagining things’ or ‘being stupid’ when she’d been bang on?
Maggie chewed at her nail which she’d already managed to nibble down to the quick and decided although she really didn’t want to have to talk about and delve into her past, she’d have to.
To start with, she needed to level with Sally. Feeling her breath coming in shortened gasps she filled her glass with vodka and gulped at the fiery liquid.
She wouldn’t tell Sally everything, but enough to ensure she got across the importance so that the woman understood what she’d been playing with. The other thing she needed to do was find out for herself. If people were coming around here looking for Dan – who also somehow seemed to be involved, then she needed to know the score.
If he was in deep with people like Jim - who was somehow also linked to Digger and Phil, then she needed to either get him to see sense and fast, or remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible.
Feeling braver by the second as the build-up of vodka had the required effort on her brain, Maggie smiled. Maybe she should take Dan up on his offer of working at the Glint? It appeared all of this crap was somehow centred around that place, so wouldn’t it be the best place to start?
If she dropped enough pills then maybe she’d have the confidence to hold her own and strut her stuff for a day or so? She shouldn’t need any longer than that to get an idea as to who was who and see if she had any reason to be concerned.
Topping up her glass once more, Maggie dialled Sally’s number. She’d have to come back round. She needed to speak to her before she lost her nerve.
CHARLIE WAS OVERJOYED when Dan returned telling him that Bill wanted to see him. At long bloody last!
Almost a month he’d been cooped up and although he’d appreciated the man had let him stay, it had got more awkward by the day.
He’d always felt uncomfortable with Jim, but since the beating he’d been even more wary and tonight, after he’d showed up with those other two nutters, it had only made things even worse.
Charlie glanced at Dan as he drove the van rapidly towards the Glint and grinned to himself. He hadn’t said a bean since they’d set off and obviously had other things on his mind.
It seemed Dan wasn’t too happy about the extra visitors either. Still, that was his problem. He’d no intention of going back to Dan’s ever again. Unless it was to watch Chantal and Eliza get it on again of course.
He was guessing that now the smoke had
blown over, Bill would at least give him a proper job with the firm. Maybe now he could safely ditch Eliza too.
As the van turned into the road which the Glint was situated on Charlie sat up in his seat, eager to hear how pleased Bill was with his efforts.
ERNIE WATCHED THE VAN in the rear view mirror. He admitted he hadn’t fully believed Eliza, but when she’d insisted everything was true and if he wanted proof she knew Charlie had been called to see Bill tonight for his next set of instructions, so if he wanted to, he could see for himself.
Ernie peered closer as the van pulled to a halt and watched Charlie get out of the passenger door and walk up the steps to the club entrance.
His temper bubbled when the club door opened and Charlie smiled, jovially shaking hands with the orangutan doorman before the door closed behind them.
He lit a cigar and exhaled the smoke slowly in a bid to regulate his spiralling pulse rate. So Eliza was being truthful. Charlie had well and truly sold him up the bloody river. He scowled. That was all he’d needed to know and the cunt was going to pay.
Grinding his cigar out in the Jaguar’s ashtray, Ernie slammed his foot down on to the accelerator and sped off. He wouldn’t be giving the yellow-bellied bastard chance to even attempt to wheedle his way back in.
In fact he didn’t even want to look at him until the day he personally wiped the fucker off the planet. His face would be the last thing the lying twat saw before departing this world.
Ernie had already instructed Eliza to get all the girls back to Crystals. Business as usual. Tomorrow night he was removing Charlie.
CHARLIE FIDGETED NERVOUSLY in the seat whilst Bill poured him a drink. He picked up the crystal tumbler, embarrassed his hands were shaking. “But I don’t understand. I thought it was all done?”
Bill leant back casually in his leather chair and smiled widely, exposing his gleaming white teeth. He crossed his arms easily across his chest. “It’s not difficult son. You just have one last thing to do.”
Charlie gulped down the whisky. “And then I’ll get the job you promised?”
Bill hid his irritation well, showing no trace of emotion on his face. He’d remain nothing if not pleasant. “Like I said, just the one last thing to do.”
Charlie stared at Bill. So did that mean he’d got the job for definite or what? Deciding he’d better not push it further, he nodded slowly. “So you want me to torch Crystals tonight?”
Bill leaned forward menacingly and rested both arms on his mahogany desk. “Yes Charlie, that’s right. Tonight.”
“Who else will be with me?”
Bill laughed. “How many people do you need to do such a simple task? They haven’t replaced that bloke on the door and there weren’t any girls there last night.”
Charlie frowned. Maybe Carter had given up the fight, sensibly realising he wasn’t a contender in comparison with Bill? “Ok, well if it’s that straightforward then no, I won’t need anyone.”
A frown flickered across Bill’s face. The smarmy little shit. Thought he could judge how many people were required on a particular job did he? Silly, silly little boy.
“What if any of the girls are in there?” Charlie asked. He didn’t really want to be responsible for that. A building was one thing, but burning a bunch of tarts to a crisp was another. “If there is, should I get them out first?”
“Oh Charlie, Charlie,” Bill smiled. “You have a lot to learn. Don’t worry about them. If any return by tonight and can’t get out a burning building on their own accord then that’s their problem. I want it done at 11. Now go!”
Charlie rose from the chair and nodding, shakily walked from Bill’s office.
Bill watched Charlie leave and gave Barry the nod to enter. Eliza had already confirmed the girls weren’t at the Glint and wouldn’t be back until morning, so the torching could go ahead.
That girl had done a good job on Carter and had managed to pull all the strings together. She’d done well.
THIRTY NINE
BEN WIPED HIS HAND over his forehead as he stood in the mouth of a small alleyway leading to a different part of the housing estate and acknowledged he wasn’t as fit as he had been. He was blowing like a steam train and he’d only jogged a mile.
He took in a couple of deep breaths of night air in a bid to get more oxygen into his screaming lungs. He needed to make sure his calculations were right and if they were, tomorrow night would be when Marie was on a late shift at the club, meaning it would be a good a night as any to get Shelley on the case.
She’d been in a good mood when he’d left, thanks to his amazing acting skills. He’d had to get out of there though. The mammoth undertaking of remaining nice and loving, combined with the additional withering revelation about the baby was exhausting.
Ben’s mind was still reeling from that discovery. Christ only knew how he would keep it up, but he did know one thing and that was if he didn’t get his arse back relatively quickly with a takeaway, it would set her off again.
SALLY KNEW MAGGIE WAS drunk when she’d received the unexpected phone call, but she also knew something was very wrong. She clearly hadn’t got a headache at all and intended to find out why she’d lied.
“If you didn’t want to go out with me Mags, why didn’t you just say?” Sally snapped petulantly, opening the bottle of wine she’d brought with her.
Maggie sighed heavily. “It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to go out with you. It was that bloke.”
Sally put her hands over her mouth dramatically. “I know!” she cried. “Did you see the size of him? Now do you see why I freaked out after he threatened me the other week?”
“This is serious, Sally. You need to listen to me, not make a joke out of it,” Maggie snapped.
Sally stared at Maggie. “Oh no! Don’t tell me you fancy him?” she laughed, filling her wine glass to the brim.
“For fuck’s sake!” Maggie slammed her hand down on the kitchen table making Sally jump. “The man’s name is Digger. Now why do you think he’s got a nickname like that then?”
Sally frowned. “How much have you had?” she asked, eyeing the vodka bottle.
“Nowhere near enough to enable me to forget what I want to,” Maggie snapped. “Digger’s a psycho. Like the other guy who was there tonight – Phil. They’re killers, Sally.”
Sally blanched slightly not sure what to take seriously. “Killers? What do y...”
“Listen!” Maggie interrupted. “I know them. I know them from years’ back. Th-they did lots of stuff. Stuff that you don’t even want to know about...”
“But how do y...”
“Remember when I told you about my friend Jane? Her and Seth - her man. Tapped as fuck he was and violent as anything. Seth, Digger and Phil killed people for money and pleasure.” Maggie wiped a tear away from her cheek. “But Jane – as much as I hated to admit it and tried to hide it from myself, she was the same.”
Sally’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, Maggie!”
Maggie grasped at Sally’s hand. “I shouldn’t even be telling you any of this, but I’m doing it for you. You need to swear that you won’t breathe a word.”
“No, no I promise. I won’t.”
“The only reason I’m telling you is because I need you to understand. You say you’re done with Jim, but I don’t believe you. If your Jim is involved with these people, then you need to steer clear. Of all of them.”
Maggie watched Sally hang her head, proving she’d been right in her suspicions of Sally’s motives towards Jim. “You need to promise me you’ll drop this now and never get involved with him again – even if he begs you.”
Sally tipped the contents of her wine down in one go. Shit and she’d approached this Digger bloke? And he knew where she lived... “What do you suggest we do?”
Maggie frowned. “I don’t know, I really don’t. Sensibly, we shouldn’t do anything, but you know me and Dan are seeing each other? Well I’ve got a sneaking suspicion he’s involved with Jim too.
”
Sally’s mouth gaped open. “What? Surely I would have seen Dan at some point during the time I was with Jim if he’d been something to do with him?”
“I admit it doesn’t make much sense,” Maggie acknowledged, “but on the other hand by your own admission there was a lot you didn’t know about him wasn’t there?”
Sally looked at Maggie and refilled her wine. That much was true.
She felt sick. She knew virtually nothing about the man and never had done, but if what had been said was correct, then she’d been sleeping with a murderer.
BEN KNEW HE WOULD GET grief when he got back, but at this point in time he really didn’t care. Instead of going to the takeaway and then home to watch a film as planned, he’d felt compelled with an all-consuming need for a drink and not just one either.
This however hadn’t served his mental state very well and he’d only got depressed and further agitated the drunker he’d got.
It hadn’t helped either that just to rub his face in the mess his life was turning into he’d had to put up with that stupid bitch Natalie, who he’d seen out of the corner of his eye the whole bloody time he’d been in the Mitre.
Hearing her squawky voice chattering and her loud nasal laugh as she sat with a couple of other girls from the office was grating through his head.
They’d nodded a hello when he’d come in, but hadn’t bothered asking him to join them or asked how he was. Not that he was bothered of course, but how times had changed. Not so long ago they’d have been queuing up for a piece of him or at least inviting him to get pissed with them.
Ben scowled nastily, his drunkenness fuelling his irrational temper. He glanced at his watch. Almost closing time. Pouring the remains of his lager down his throat he unsteadily got to his feet.
Leaving the pub, he began walking back when he saw Natalie slightly ahead on the path opposite. He hadn’t even noticed she’d left.