Mr. Suit

by Nigel Bird

  He took Liza by the arm and pulled her up the steps.

  As he closed the door, he watched the young girl go over to put her arms round the boy and the boy huddle into a ball.

  He turned the key to lock the cellar door, allowed his mum to pass and then left without bothering to say goodbye.

  Chapter 11

  When she saw the ‘number not recognised’, Liza half expected it to be some company giving her a cold call. The way she felt after her encounter with Billy the Kid back there in Highgate, she was ready to give a mouthful of abuse to whoever happened to be on the other end of the line.

  “Yes.” She said it with all the snippiness she could muster.

  “Mum. Thank God it’s you. They’ve got me, Mum. Prisoner. He says he’ll,” and she broke into sobs that were unintelligible. It was Miriam, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that.

  Liza covered the mouthpiece. Told Greg to pull over. He pushed up the indicator lever and parked up on double-red lines in the bus-lane. Panicked in case the cops turned up and stuck a breathalyser into his mouth and did him for possession of illegal firearms to boot.

  “Now take it easy darling. Deep breaths. Who do you say has you and what are they going to do?”

  “Suits Martin, Mum. The gangster.” That came as no surprise to Liza. “And he’s going to have his wicked way with me then carve off my thumb if you don’t do exactly what he says.” That wasn’t too much of a surprise either.

  Liza took a look in the bag. Put her hand in and stroked the guns. Felt empowered by the cold touch of the metal. “You’d better put him on then, Honey. And don’t worry. We’ll be there for you as soon as we can.”

  “Liza darling. Nice of you to pick up.” Suits Martin’s voice turned her on straight away. Left her tingling between her legs. The image of him chaining her to a bed and ripping off her clothes flashed through her mind. For a split-second, she was jealous of her daughter.

  “You so much as chip her nail varnish I’ll have you, Mister.”

  “You should be so lucky, Babe.”

  “Fuck off. And don’t you be poking around where you shouldn’t be, neither.”

  “What’s your problem? It’s not as if I’d be the first now, would it? Besides, it’s me that’s got all the issues here. He was my brother, Liza. You went and killed my Willie.”

  He did have a point. Not that she was going to accept it. “You didn’t even like the guy. Said he was always getting in the way. A handicap.”

  Mr Suit just laughed. “A man like me needs to find closure, darling. So you’re going to have to do something to help me find it.”

  “Hang on. I’ll get a pen and paper.”

  “This isn’t a shopping list, doll. Just give me your undivided.” Liza scrunched up her face in concentration. You need to bring Archie to me. That’s the deal. I need to put Archie out of his misery once and for all. That’ll almost square things. “And I’ll need £25,000 by way of payment.”

  “25 grand? You’re having a laugh.”

  “No laughs here. 12 o’clock tomorrow. You name the place. Somewhere public.”

  Greg saw a police car in his rear-view mirror and a traffic warden crossing the road in their direction. He let go of the handkerchief he’d been holding to his ear, put on the indicators straight away and screeched into a gap in the traffic before it closed. Liza fell back and almost dropped the phone.

  “All right. You’ll have the money. Inside Sainsbury’s, Ladbroke Grove. By the fruit. Capische?”

  Liza heard Miriam scream in the background and the phone went dead.

  Chapter 12

  “No laughs here. 12 o’clock tomorrow. You name the place. Somewhere public.” Mr Suit smiled. Let his fingers stroke the inside of Miriam’s naked thigh. Enjoyed the softness of her young skin, warm and smooth and unspoiled by life.

  When he heard Liza’s attempt at Italian, he pressed the red button to end the conversation and carefully placed the phone on the bedside table. He dropped his face to where his hand had been and rubbed his cheek along Miriam’s leg until he arrived at her pussy, still wet and musky from the last time he’d been inside.

  He continued to the tattoo on her hip. Licked the horns of the red devil there and gently traced the outline of its body before returning to her cunt.

  Miriam’s body stiffened. A solitary gasp escaped her lips.

  Mr Suit got down to business. Let his tongue skim the delicate labia before hitting on the clit, where he licked out the letters of the alphabet. He concentrated hard. Was just working on the ‘K’ when Miriam’s hands pushed his head away.

  “Stupid cow,” she shouted. “Is she up for it?”

  Mr Suit looked up, his acne pocked face a shade of red. “She’ll be there.”

  “And she’ll have Dad?”

  “He’ll be there.”

  Miriam pulled herself up in the bed. Sat up against the pillows and scratched at her arm. “That woman needs taught a good lesson. Trying to do for my dad like that and coming on to my boyfriend an’ all. Getting Dad back safe’s all I care about, but getting her to stump up the cash like that, it’s a work of genius. I can’t wait to rub her nose in it is all I’m saying.”

  Charlie Suit smiled. “If we have that all sorted, I can’t wait to rub my nose in it either.”

  Miriam slipped back down the pillow. Parted her legs. Let the Suit work on his letter formation while she pictured her mother’s face when she saw what was really going on.

  Chapter 13

  Liza stood at home in the middle of her walk-in wardrobe, fingering all of her clothes.

  What should one wear to a transaction meeting with the criminal underworld? It was the question that had been bothering Liza since the phone conversation with Mr Suit.

  Course, it was an easy decision for Greg. He’d be in the same tracksuit and trainers he always wore.

  And Archie? He’d be wearing whatever she put him in. It wasn’t going to matter much by the sounds of things. Suits Martin would have him chopped up and fed to the fish in the Thames before Billingsgate opened its doors next morning.

  Looking around at all her clothes and shoes, she realised how difficult it was going to be leaving all of it behind. But taking a trip abroad seemed like the safest thing to do, even if it were just to let things cool down between everyone.

  Two hours she spent with her clothes thinking about the future and working out which outfit she’d take back with her to the boat.

  Eventually she settled on a tight-fitting, sleeveless, white dress with a hem that ended just above the knee. To go with it, a white pair of stilettoes with a tiny yellow flower on the tip and her white leather handbag to keep the gun in. She planned to wear her hair up and to put on a pale lipstick that would give her the look of a model from the 1960s. She’d drive Mr Suit wild, which might just take his mind off what was at stake.

  The decision made, she packed the clothes up carefully into her overnight bag and got on the phone to the airline to book four open-return tickets to Spain, just to be on the safe side.

  Chapter 14

  Greg put the boat into reverse and pushed the tiller out wide to take in Wol’s stern. The propeller churned up the water as the boat came to rest at the wall until Greg shifted the gear back in to neutral.

  “Mother of God, will you keep the damned thing steady,” Liza shouted from the bedroom. “I’m finishing my nails for heaven’s sake.”

  Only Archie, frozen in position so that he could watch Cash In The Attic, was able to hear her.

  On deck, Greg picked up the rope that he’d laid from the bow earlier on and the rope from his feet and jumped off onto land. He shifted his weight onto his heels to keep the boat in place and skilfully snaked the ropes so that they curled around the concrete bollards.

  An Indian family out for their family shop, nine of them including granny and six children of descending sizes, watched on as Greg showed off his skills. It took no time at all to tie up and Greg skipped back on-board
as soon as the job was done.

  “Easy,” he said to his dad when he came in.

  Dad blinked in approval and got back to watching the TV.

  As Greg sat examining his pistol, the bedroom door opened and out walked Liza, blowing furiously on her fingers.

  In spite of Archie having no control of his body, his mouth opened a little.

  His pupils dilated and he blinked away. 8, 15, 20.

  “Ah, thanks darling,” Liza said and went over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

  “Bleeding hell, Mum,” Greg said. “You sure you remember what we’re doing here?”

  Liza wiped away the lipstick from her husband’s head. “We’re going to do this properly or not at all.”

  That was all there was to it.

  “We’re 15 minutes early.” She looked at her son. “You make sure you’ve got your gun primed and keep the key in the ignition. I’ll get in there and hang around the oranges until they arrive. First sign of trouble, I want to hear you shooting like it’s the OK Corral.”

  Greg nodded. Checked the Stanley knife was in his pocket and settled down to watch the telly with his dad. The couple on the programme had found a stamp album in the house that they reckoned was worth a grand. Maybe Greg would start his own collection when they were in Spain - it would be a good time to build himself something for the future.

  “And you’ll wheel out your father on my signal, won’t you dear?”

  “Yes Mum.”

  “Making sure that you’ve got the carrier bag with the cash.”

  “Yes Mum.”

  “Then everything’s fine. Wish me luck.”

  Greg lifted his hand to give half a wave. Archie just sat.

  The expert on the telly had shifted his attention to an ornamental Shire horse.

  Chapter 15

  As Liza walked into the shop, she pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head.

  She found the weight of the gun in her bag reassuring and she went over to the fruit to go through with the pretence of shopping.

  She picked up a couple of melons, checked them over for blemishes and gave them a good sniff. Made her mouth water to get a whiff of the sweetness. Took her mind off the flutterings in her stomach.

  Before she could move on to the oranges, she saw two men she knew. A couple of Mr Suit’s boys.

  Shane and Naz looked like a couple of bouncers from an up-market club, sharp suits and ties that couldn’t quite disguise the rough stuff that they were covering.

  Liza picked up a couple of oranges. Went over and passed one to each of the men. In their hands the oranges looked like small tangerines.

  “Where is she then?” Liza asked.

  “She’s outside in the van.” Shane was doing the talking. Naz had begun peeling the orange and was dropping the skin on the floor next to his shiny, black winkle-picker shoes. “What about Archie and the cash?”

  “On the boat. How about you bring your boss and my daughter over and we’ll get the business sorted.”

  Naz popped an orange segment into his mouth and nodded.

  “You’re on.”

  The three of them wandered outside into the sunshine and stood on the terrace.

  Naz lifted his finger in the direction of the car-park, Liza nodded over to Wol.

  As if in some great act of choreography, Suits Martin and Miriam appeared at the same time as Archie and Greg.

  In his charcoal-grey zoot, Mr Suit really looked the part of top man. Miriam hadn’t seemed to get the idea of the kidnap victim role, though. She was wearing black tights and the shortest shorts that could be bought. Her T-shirt rode up as she walked so that the red devil appeared at her hip with every other step.

  A huge smile beamed from Liza’s face to see that her daughter was in one piece. It soon disappeared when Miriam took Mr Suit’s arm as they came over.

  “What the?”

  When the couple reached Liza, Miriam unbuttoned her boyfriend’s jacked and slid her hand over his stomach. In case she hadn’t made her point, she dropped her hand to give Mr Suit’s cock a quick stroke before resting it on the gold buckle of his belt.

  “You bloody slag,” Liza shouted and lunged forward.

  Naz and Shane reached out and took her arms, one each, and lifted her gently from the ground. They pulled her back a couple of feet and dropped her back on the concrete.

  Miriam rested her head on Mr Suit’s shoulder. “You’re just jealous, you old cow. It wasn’t enough that you tried to steal my man, you had to go and ask him to kill my own father, silly moo. You think I’d let you get away with that?”

  “But I didn’t know anything about you and Suits. Swear to God.”

  “Ladies, ladies,” Mr Suit interrupted. “Might I remind you that we’re here on business? You have something we want, and I’ve got something for you in return.”

  All of Liza’s muscles tensed. A heat rose to the back of her throat.

  “I need a cigarette,” she said and opened the catch on her bag.

  Greg and Archie, having finally managed to negotiate the ramp on the boat, sidled over. “When did you start smoking, Mum?” Greg asked.

  There was a moment when everybody seemed to look at everyone else while everything remained still and then there was a moment when everybody moved at once. Everyone except Archie.

  Liza pulled out her gun. Pointed it straight at Mr Suit and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit him in the chest.

  Liza squeezed the trigger again.

  Before she heard the bang, she saw Mr Suit pulling Miriam in front of her to shield himself. The bullet went straight into the back of Miriam’s head and had enough in it to come out of the other side and bury itself into Mr Suit’s throat.

  The two lovers seemed to hold on to each other like they were saying goodbye, then fell to the ground like hammy actors in a bad play.

  Naz and Shane were quick to react. They reached inside their jackets and pulled out handguns from leather shoulder-holsters.

  Like conjoined twins, they pointed their weapons at Liza and pumped their weapons.

  Liza’s body twitched like she was having the orgasm she’d been dreaming of over those last few weeks. Her white dress was ruined, all holes and decorated with blood as it formed petal-like blooms around her body.

  Not to be outdone, Greg pulled out his own weapon and retreated, firing off rounds at Mr Suits’ men. Six shots in all, each of them hitting the targets. Naz and Shane gazed at each other with mouths open, struggling to comprehend that they’d met their ends at the hands of such a streak of piss. They collapsed into each other’s arms before crashing down onto Archie and turfing him out of his chair and onto the floor.

  Greg continued his retreat. Stumbled back to the water’s edge, caught his foot on an old, black lab that’d been basking in the sun and tripped into the canal.

  The splash went up like a flare, but no one moved forward to help.

  Greg sank into the darkness. Opened his eyes to see the light above him and then lost sight of it. He reached out and clawed at nothing as an enormous scream did for the last of the air in his lungs. He flapped and kicked, but forgot to turn his breathing off. Water poured into his mouth. Left the faint taste of diesel on his tongue. His arms reached out letting his fingers find the cold softness of the mud at the bottom of the canal. He tried to push himself up to the surface, but only ended up getting his arm stuck up to the elbow in the silt. A big cough emptied his lungs and a big suck filled them right up again. It didn’t take long for his body to shut down while his brain clicked on with images of the basement on the Archway Road and a goal scored at Highbury by Tony Adams back in the day.

  Chapter 16

  An Indian family of nine, including one grandmother and six children, watched the whole thing from the safety of the supermarket foyer.

  When it was all over, they went over to survey the damage.

  The father of the group wandered between the bodies rubbing his chin and shaking his
head.

  Soon as he noticed that Archie was still alive, he took off his blue polyester jacket and put it under Archie’s head.

  “Quick, someone. Help,” the man called to the crowds who were now pouring from the shop. “This one’s still alive.” He bent closer to Archie. “It’s OK, I’m a doctor. Are you all right?”

  Archie blinked as fiercely as he could manage, tears flowing from his eyes and forming tiny puddles on the concrete.

  ‘6, 21, 3, 11’

  ‘6, 21, 3, 11’

  ‘6, 21, 3, 11’

  ~ end ~

  Thanks

  This novella goes out with thanks to the Crimeficwriters for their support and encouragement, especially to Chris Rhatigan, AJ Hayes, McDroll and Walter Giersbach for their valuable critiques on this work.

  It is also published with thanks to those in my life who have helped me through the darkness of the weeks before publication; without the words of sympathy and condolence, this may not have seen the light of day for many a month.

  a Sea Minor Publication