by Jacqui Rose
He laughed loudly, which annoyed Fat Man even more and he threw the Russian’s arm off his shoulders, stalking off towards the outbuildings.
Inside the outbuildings was an escape from the baking heat. Fat Man watched Del’s men counting the kilos of cocaine. Eight hundred kilos, all present and correct. He supposed it was something.
‘Well?’ The Russian who Fat Man had been talking to came up behind him. He didn’t know his name and he had no wish or intention of finding it out. No doubt it was some unpronounceable shit that would tie up his fucking tongue.
‘Well what, mate?’
‘Well, you’ve counted the coke and now we count the money.’
‘I want it loaded into my cars first. Then you can have the dough.’
The Russian narrowed his eyes. A dark seething anger displayed in them, but he answered cordially, nodding his head.
‘So be it. I shall tell my men to load it up.’
‘No need. I’ll tell my men to.’
‘Your men? I thought they were Del’s.’
Without a word and for the second time that day, Fat Man Burke stalked off.
Watching the last of the cocaine being loaded into the secret panelling under the Range Rovers, Fat Man Burke couldn’t shake off the feeling he was being made a mug of by the Russian. He took a sly glance across to where he was standing and immediately got a cheery wave in return. Fat Man turned away quickly, glowering. The man was a fucking wind-up. He’d be pleased when he could get back to his villa, shoot a bit of pool and get the housekeeper to make him some egg and chips.
A few minutes later, with the tension still sitting on his shoulders, Fat Man Burke nodded to Del’s men to bring the black binbags full of money into the outbuildings.
‘It’s all there, but it’s best if you count it mate. I don’t want you and Milo to come back saying it was under the radar.’
The Russian flung his arms wide open dramatically.
‘Burkey, you insult me. Surely we’re amongst friends here.’
Fat Man raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Just count it mate, and then we can all go home.’
There was a smash on the wooden door, startling all those present. It flung open.
‘What the fuck is going on here?’
Both the Russians and Fat Man Burke, along with the other men, turned to the open doorway. It was Del. Del with a gun.
‘I said what the fuck is going on here?’
No one moved as they stared at Del standing in the doorway, muttering to himself. In that moment Fat Man Burke finally found a common ground with the Russians. Neither one of them could understand a word Del was saying. What they did understand was the loaded gun waving in his right hand.
‘Burkey? Where are you? I told you to fucking wake me up.’ Del staggered into the cobweb-strewn outhouse. Everybody stayed frozen.
The Russian spoke slowly. ‘There’s no need for this, Del. Everything you want is here. Burkey’s counted it. Milo made sure the deal was going to run smoothly.’
Del spun round, almost knocking into Fat Man. He could’ve sworn he heard a voice. He shrugged, then swivelled back round to face the Russian ensemble, his arms flaying like a conductor, the forgotten Colt 1911 bucking dangerously in his hand. Fear washed over the Russian’s face. He held his arms up in the air.
Looking down at the floor, Del tried to remember where he was. Fuck knows. Where was Burkey? Where was anyone?
‘Burkey? Where are you for fuck’s sake?’
In his drunken state Del stumbled forward, pointing the gun towards the other Russians who in turn ducked then slowly raised their hands too. Thinking it was their cue, Del’s men pulled out their guns; the metallic flutter of a dozen simultaneously drawn weapons echoed round the room.
Shit. He couldn’t see what he was doing. Everything was a fucking blur again and God only knew where Burkey had gone. He needed to sit down. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much.
Del was sweating. A bead of perspiration ran slowly into his right ear. Hazily he rubbed it away. A second later his ear began to ring. Funny; he was sure he heard a scream. Christ. He needed to go and sleep again. Staggering out of the door, Del Williams left Milo’s lieutenant crying in agony with a bullet in his leg, unaware he’d inadvertently pulled the trigger.
Electric excitement bolted through Fat Man Burke. Del wasn’t planning to do a deal with the Russians at all; he was planning to rip the fuckers off. The respect and pride Fat Man felt in that moment for Del pushed out his chest, jumping him into action.
‘Okay guys, tie the buggers up.’
* * *
As Fat Man Burke stood by the Cadillac Escalades watching Del’s men pile in and tie up the Russians in their own cars, he couldn’t have been happier. He should never have doubted Del. He should’ve known he would’ve had a plan. A plan that showed the faces of the Costa not to mess with them. Fat Man slowly walked over to the cars and smiled at the remonstrating Russians. He slammed the door shut and winked at his own reflection.
25
One thousand and sixty miles away, Edith stood outside the John Snow pub on the corner of Lexington Street. Although the sun dazzled in the cloudless sky and the tourists and locals of Soho cheerily walked by dressed in pastels and bright colours, Edith Williams thanked her luckies that she no longer lived here.
It wasn’t because she didn’t like London anymore. She loved the place no less than when she’d left it all those years ago, but it was simply that she loved Marbella more. Marbella was her. The glamour. The luxury. The wealth. Those things were in her blood; she was born to live there – though being born to live there was helped in part that Edith Williams conveniently liked to forget where she came from. Her humble beginnings started not in a mansion, nor a stately home, but in a run-down council flat in the poorest part of the East End.
She looked down at her Hublot diamond watch. It was almost time.
Having ordered a double gin, Edith sat in the corner of the Soho pub and waited. Usually, waiting for people was one of her bugbears and something she never did. But then there was always the exception to the rules. And this time was certainly the exception.
‘Double whisky, straight, no ice – and make sure you don’t frig me off with the measures.’
‘I’ll get that. It’s the least I can do for an old lover of mine, ain’t it, babe?’
Teddy Davies span round and came face to face with Edith Williams. He hadn’t expected, nor wanted, to see her. He blinked several times, not bothering to hide his puzzlement or shock.
‘Well ain’t you going to give me a hug, Edward, or are you just going to stand there like a fucking wilting plant on a ledge?’
Teddy bristled as Edith stood with her arms wide open. He glanced around the pub, catching the eyes of the regular punters who seemed fascinated with this loud-mouthed, red-faced creature. Not liking to be the centre of attention unless he chose to be, Teddy grabbed hold of Edith’s arm, pulling her forcefully out of the pub.
Edith chuckled, knowing exactly how to wind Teddy up. ‘I see you still like it rough, Edward.’
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
Edith blew Teddy a kiss. ‘Eddie …’
‘Shut the fuck up and tell me what you’re doing here. And how did you know I’d be here?’
‘Ed, is that any way to talk to a lady?’
‘I said, how did you know I’d be here?’
Edith looked contemptuously at Teddy. ‘I have my sources, just like you have yours, Ed.’
Teddy ground on his teeth. How the hell he’d ever put his dick in her he didn’t know. Well he did, but knowing why and knowing he’d been sober at the time only made it worse.
‘You know it’s not Edward. It’s Teddy. Not Eddie, not Ed, just plain Teddy.’
‘Plain. Maybe.’ Edith looked Teddy up and down. The sneer was apparent on her face as she stared at his brown suede loafers. It continued as her eyes worked their way up his body, scrutinising his appearance until s
he finally met his gaze.
‘It’s a shame when people let themselves go don’t you think, babe? Let me give you a tip, darling, stick to Edward. Teddy makes you sound like a cunt. No grown man should have to be named after a stuffed toy, darlin’.’ Edith raised one eyebrow then tapped Teddy on his chest before turning to cross Lexington Street. She called behind her.
‘You and me have a lot of catching up to do, Edward. I’m booked in at The Dorchester. I’m in the penthouse. I’ll be expecting you.’
Teddy Davies leant over the chrome and gold embossed toilet cistern, snorting up the last of the quiver he’d found at the back of his glove compartment. Between being on duty and having to deal with the problems of some of the Toms in Soho he hadn’t had the chance to meet up with his dealer.
The lines he’d just taken were thinner than Victoria Beckham, which meant the buzz would only last for fifteen minutes, tops. He was tempted to go and pick some up from the estate on Camden Road, but curiosity mixed with slight anxiety as to why Edith Williams had reappeared had prompted him to walk into the Dorchester ten minutes ago, and he’d been in their toilets ever since. Combing his hair back and checking his nostrils for any tell-tale signs of cocaine, Teddy took a deep breath. He was ready to see what Edith wanted.
The penthouse. Teddy Davies took a deep breath, his hand hovering in mid-air. Just as he decided to knock, the hotel door swung open and Edith stood with an expectant look on her face, dressed in an almost see-through black negligee. Teddy gulped.
‘All right, Edward. It’s good to see you.’ Edith winked, looking at Teddy like a hungry wolf. Teddy stared at Edith. He’d forgotten about her voracious sexual appetite and he certainly didn’t want to be reminded of it.
He’d been thrown by seeing her earlier, but he wasn’t going to be now. Del was a bigger clown than he thought, to send his wife. It was pathetic. Maybe Del saw it as a tactical move, but once Soho found out that the mighty face had sent Edith to talk to him, Del Williams would be a fucking laughing stock. Nevertheless, he was certainly interested to find out exactly what this was about.
‘Edith, what can I say? This is unexpected – though I’m not sure yet if it’ll be pleasurable or not.’
Edith licked her lips. ‘Oh I’m sure it’ll be pleasurable; wasn’t it always?’
Before Teddy could answer, his mobile rang. He saw the caller ID. It was Milo. He needed to talk to him, but not now. He wanted to see what Edith had come for.
‘I haven’t come to play games, Edith. Tell me what Del has sent you to say then I can get the hell out of here. I must say, I’m disappointed that the big man has sent you.’
Without a word, Edith shunted Teddy inside her hotel room. It was enormous.
‘Take a seat, darlin’.’ Edith sat down at the table, pointing to the other dining-room chair. ‘I didn’t bother getting you a plate; I remember your tastes were more developed.’
Edith threw a small packet in front of Teddy. ‘I thought you’d prefer that to a piece of cheesecake, darlin’.’
Teddy looked down at the packet as Edith continued to speak. ‘No tricks, doll. It’s quality stuff. It better be, otherwise my husband might have something to say about it.’ Speaking as if Teddy needed clarification, Edith added, ‘It’s from one of his suppliers.’
Hungrily, Teddy opened the packet. He was an expert at seeing a weight of powder and knowing what it was. Four grams, give or take. He glanced up for a second, contemplating telling Edith to stuff her quiver; that he wasn’t here for that. But how foolish would that be? And no one could tell him Teddy Davies was foolish.
Edith sat and watched Teddy as he began to snort lines of quiver. He hadn’t changed. He was still a cokehead. Still a little man thinking he was a giant. But he was still someone she needed. She leaned across the table, her large breasts pushing the plate slightly, and grabbed Teddy’s wrist, disturbing him from taking the next line.
‘No one sends me to tell anyone anything, babe. You should know that, Edward. I do what I want and no one, especially me husband, tells me what to do. You following me, doll?’
‘What’s this about, Edith? I’m a busy man.’
‘Oh I can see that, Eddie. I’m not here because Del sent me, though I am here because of him. I want your help, Teddy, and from what I hear you’re just the man I need.’
Now this was beginning to get interesting. Not what he’d been expecting.
‘It’s been a while, but my feelings haven’t changed when it comes to my husband. What has changed is that I ain’t putting up with it no more. There’s one thing him shagging whores both behind me back and in front of me, but it’s another thing him not giving me what’s mine. And I want it. But not only that; I want all of it.’
‘What are you saying to me, Edith?’
‘I’m saying I want Del dead. And I want you to pull the trigger.’ Edith picked up her Chloé bag and emptied the contents on the table. Packets of fifty-pound notes tumbled out. ‘I pawned me diamonds. I think that might be an incentive enough for you. It’ll also help you pay for anyone else you need to help. So what do you say, Edward?’
Teddy rolled his head back and roared with delighted laughter. He didn’t need an incentive and he didn’t need to answer Edith. Quite literally, it was the best news he’d ever heard.
Milo Burkov threw his phone against the wall. Where the fuck was Teddy? He’d been calling him for the past few hours and the man had decided to do a disappearing act – today, of all days.
Picking up his espresso from the table, Milo walked over to the window. He could hardly believe what he’d heard; so much so that he’d had to ask his associate on the other end of the line to repeat what he’d said.
Del Williams had double-crossed him. He had not only ripped him off, but the prick had also shot one of his best men. Milo couldn’t work out how the fuck it had all gone so wrong. Del must’ve got word that he and Teddy had been planning a move on him. Because what other reason was there for Del to react in the way he had done? The man had trusted him, then, from what seemed like nowhere, this had happened.
Until this had happened, even though Teddy had wanted it, putting Del in the ground hadn’t been in his game plan. After this deal had gone through, Milo had been planning to run him out, to sink his business into the floor, but now the stakes had become higher.
Using his other phone, Milo dialled Teddy. He needed to speak to him. It rang, then went straight to voicemail. The man was a coked-up, small-time, big-thinking arsehole. What was the point in having him on his team when he never answered?
Shaking his head, Milo could almost hear the rings of laughter making their way across from the Costa del Sol. And as he stood looking out over Wardour Street it wasn’t a question of almost picturing Del, he could picture him; raising his glass, toasting his success surrounded by the cocaine and the money. His money.
No one, but no one, betrayed him. The phone call from Marbella telling him what had happened had signed Del’s death warrant. Now all he needed to do was get to him.
Teddy Davies bounded out of the Dorchester, partly from the quality quiver, but mainly from the conversation he’d just had with Edith.
He looked at his phone and saw twelve missed calls from Milo. He’d have to wait.
If somebody had told him this morning he would’ve been sitting down with Edith discussing her husband’s hit, he would’ve thought they’d been tripping. Teddy Davies started to sing. He felt good and he was soon going to feel even better. Oh yes, Del Williams was going to be in for a treat.
26
Half a mile away, Bunny Barker was curled up on her bed, crying. Her favourite blanket covered her and Claudia sat by her side, concern etched onto her face.
‘I want to string the bastard up. I’ve tried calling him, Bun, and he ain’t answering. Probably too afraid to pick up the phone to me. He knows what a bleedin’ earful he’ll get. I’m blowing, Bun. Who does the man think he is, hey?’
Bunny tried to smile at Claud
ia but couldn’t manage it.
‘Leave it, Claud. It’s okay. It was going to happen sooner or later. People let you down. I should know that. Don’t know why it came as such a surprise.’
Claudia shook her head. She’d thought Del was different. She’d always given him a hard time, not because she’d thought he was like all the other blokes, but because he was different. Better than the rest. Solid. Well she’d fucking show him solid.
‘What I don’t understand, Bun, is why now? Why have the hump about what you do now?’
‘It ain’t just now though is it? He’s always been on about it. He’s never liked it, you know that.’
‘Yeah but he’s never been cruel with it.’
Bunny shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess he’s under pressure. It’s hard for him.’
‘Don’t start to make excuses for him. Story of women’s bleedin’ lives, making excuses for their old man. And where does it get them? I’ll tell you. Up friggin’ nowhere street.’
‘I’m not making excuses for him and what he said …’
‘I know, sweetheart.’
Bunny smiled and touched Claudia’s hand gently. ‘There’s something else as well.’
Claudia’s eyes were wide with curiosity. ‘What?’
Bunny spoke in a whisper. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘I don’t like to leave you, Bun. Not like this.’ Claudia folded her arms, protesting as she stood by the front door.
‘I’m fine. Go on Claudia.’
‘No, it’s not right. I don’t want to leave you, babe.’
Bunny smiled then bent down and leaned her head on Claudia’s shoulders. She closed her eyes, feeling exhausted but also comforted by Claudia’s love and care.
‘I really just want to be on my own. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.’