by Kerry Kaya
Weakly, Stacey nodded her head. She was in no fit state to telephone anyone.
“I’ll do it,” Jonny said. He took his mobile phone from his jeans pocket and walked out of the room.
Gary leaned in toward Jimmy. He kept his voice low. He wanted to get in quick before Jimmy took it upon himself to start delegating out the businesses between Tommy’s two sons. “Suppose I’ll have to be the one to take over the businesses now, won’t I? Later on, I’ll pop over to the scrapyard and pick up the deeds for the betting shop and clubs. You’ll be my witness when I sign them, won’t you, Jimmy?” He stared into the distance, a maddening smile was spread across his face, as he recalled Bethany’s instructions. “Nah, forget that, change of plan. It needs to be done in front of a brief. Have you still got the phone number for Tommy’s solicitor, Bernard Cohen?”
His mouth falling open, Jimmy stared at his brother. “He’s not dead, Gal. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Well, he ain’t gonna make it, is he? Look at him. It’s plain to see he’s gonna croak it.” He shook his head. “There’s only one place he’s going, and that’s in a box. I even heard the doctors say that they’re thinking about pulling the plug.” His voice became loud, causing everyone in the room to turn and look across at him.
Stacey was aghast. “No,” she cried. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and she threw herself across her husband’s lifeless body. “No, I won’t let them do it. Tell them, Jimmy. Tell them. They’re not coming anywhere near him.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jimmy snapped. He eyed his brother with disgust. “See what you’ve caused now?”
“What?” Gary’s face was the picture of innocence. “I heard them say it.”
“You heard fuck all.” Helping his mother lead a now hysterical Stacey from the room, Jimmy rounded on his brother. “It’s all in that fucked up, crazy as fucking bat-shit head of yours.”
Gary gave a shrug of his shoulders.
Glaring at his younger brother, Jimmy’s voice was low as he spat out his words. “Even if something did happen, Tommy’s businesses will go to the two boys, his sons. Because I can tell you now, over my dead fucking body, am I gonna let you get your fucking hands on them.”
“That can be easily arranged, Jimmy.” Gary gave him a wide grin.
“Don’t fucking start, Gal,” Jimmy spoke with a low growl. “Don’t you think we’ve got enough to deal with, without your antics adding to the situation?” He glanced toward the hospital bed. “I fucking mean it, now either keep that big fucking trap of yours shut, or piss off home, before me and you fall out and really do have words.”
Giving his brother a cold stare, Jimmy moved toward the door. He came to an abrupt halt and leant forward to speak privately in Sonny’s ear. “Watch him,” he said, pointing two fingers in Gary’s direction. “And do not, under any circumstances, leave him alone in this room with Tommy. Stay here until I get back, do you understand?”
His expression sombre, Sonny nodded his head. They all knew that Gary was as mad as a hatter, and just like Jimmy, he didn’t trust his older brother as far as he could throw him.
* * *
In the hospital’s main entrance, Mad Dog Harris and Danny McKay were sat in the coffee shop, with mugs of tea in front of them. From their position, they had a good view of the corridor leading toward the Intensive Care Unit.
“I heard it happened over in Tilbury?”
“Aye, that’s what I heard.” Mad Dog took a sip of his tea and grimaced. It was lukewarm and not only resembled, but tasted like cat’s piss. All the same, he welcomed the distraction. He loved Tommy like a son, always had, and couldn’t get his head around this turn of events. If there was one thing he knew about the younger man, it was the fact that he wasn’t in the habit of making enemies.
“It has to have been a robbery gone wrong,” Danny continued. Having been shot at himself in the past, he knew the only possible answer was one of two scenarios. Either Tommy knew and trusted the gunman for him to be able to get so close, or it was a robbery, maybe even a carjacking gone wrong.
“They didn’t take his car,” Mad Dog answered, as if reading Danny’s mind. His eyes were trained in the direction of the corridor that he’d watched Janet and her sons walk toward.
Raising his eyebrows at this, Danny sank back onto the chair. He’d seen Tommy’s car himself, and knew it was worth a bob or two. So if it wasn’t a robbery, it led to only one other explanation. Tommy must have known the gunman. Briefly, his mind went to the conversation he and Moray had had with him, just the day before. Had Tommy stumbled across something? Unsure of how much Mad Dog knew about the situation with young Jake Carter, he decided to keep schtum and have a word with Jimmy.
“Aye, up.” Mad Dog rose from his seat. He nodded in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit. “This doesn’t look good,” he stated.
Walking toward them, were Jimmy, Janet, and Stacey. Watching as Janet held her arms around her daughter-in-law’s heaving shoulders, Mad Dog’s heart plummeted.
“It’s okay,” Jimmy held up his hands at seeing their concerned expressions. “He’s not, you know,” he swallowed deeply. “He’s not gone; he’s not dead. It was fucking Gary, starting shit as usual.”
Relieved, Mad Dog watched as Janet led Stacey away, before turning his attention back to Jimmy. “Are you okay, lad?” Knowing just how close the two brothers were, he pulled the younger man into a bear hug.
“I don’t know.” Releasing himself from the older man’s arms, Jimmy sat down heavily at the table and massaged his closed eyes. “I don’t fucking know,” he repeated. “It’s all a bit of a shock. I don’t know how to feel at the moment.”
“Aye, lad, it’s bound to be. What are they saying? Is he going to make it?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Jimmy looked helplessly across at the older man. “They said it’s touch and go. It’s not looking good though, if I’m being honest. I just wish I knew who the fuck shot him.” He threw his arms up into the air. “Or why the fuck they shot him. Thank God Gary turned up when he did and phoned for an ambulance. He might be a fucking loony tune, but at least he’d had the sense to call for help.”
Mad Dog glanced across at Danny. “We were just talking about that. Tommy isn’t in the habit of making enemies, is he?”
“I know, that’s what makes it even stranger. You know what Tommy’s like. He pretty much keeps himself to himself. He’s usually holed up in the scrapyard office, minding his own business. The only time he involves himself with the debt collecting is if my brothers can’t handle a situation, and trust me that isn’t often.”
Mad Dog was thoughtful for a few moments. “Then he must have got himself involved in something that we don’t know anything about, lad.”
Jimmy blew out his cheeks. “I don’t know, and until he wakes up, we won’t know.” He paused and swallowed down the hard lump in his throat. He gave a little shake of his head before continuing. “If he even wakes up.”
All three men were thoughtful for a few moments. Finally, Danny cleared his throat. “Actually, Jimmy, I wanted to have a quiet word with you about something.”
Hearing this, Mad Dog stood up. “I’ll go and grab us some more tea,” he said, making his way over to the coffee shop counter.
Wearily, Jimmy smiled his thanks. “What is it?” he asked, turning to look at Danny, his eyebrows raised as he did so.
“Yesterday …,” Danny sat forward in his seat; he kept his voice low. “… me and Moray, we went to see Tommy.” He watched Jimmy’s forehead furrow and continued. “We stumbled across something, something to do with his boy, Jake.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “What?” He wracked his brain as to what it could be. Tommy had said nothing about the visit.
“We found the kid in a club that Freddie frequented.” He paused. “One of Freddie’s clubs. You’re not stupid, Jimmy, you know what I’m trying to tell you.”
“No.” Jimmy’s mouth fell open. “No fucki
ng way,” he cried. “Are you sure it was Jake?”
“Yep. I saw him with my own two eyes. So anyway, me and Moray, we broke the news to Tommy yesterday.” He screwed up his face as he recalled the moment. “As you can imagine, it didn’t go down too well, and he was in a bit of a state by the time we left. But,” he said, pointing his finger across to Jimmy, “the only reason I’m telling you this, is that I can’t help but keep thinking, what if Tommy went looking for the kid and stumbled across something? You’ve got to admit, it’s a bit of a coincidence, that he finds out something like that, and the next day, he’s been fucking shot.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy blew out his cheeks. He looked up as Mad Dog returned to the table with three mugs of tea grasped in his fists. “Did you know anything about this? Something to do with Jake?”
Shamefaced, Mad Dog looked to the floor. “Aye, lad.”
Throwing up his hands, Jimmy was incensed. “Am I the only one left out of the loop here? Why the fuck didn’t Tommy say anything to me?”
Taking a seat, Mad Dog blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip. “I don’t think he wanted to tell anyone, and he didn’t tell me either, not exactly. I think he was embarrassed. Anyway, he turned up at the club last night, ready to cause some damage, and from the mood he was in, it was some serious damage at that.”
“I can’t fucking believe this.” Jimmy shook his head. He’d always believed that he knew everything there was to know about his brother. He thought that they were tight. “So, what happened?”
“We went to a club in Soho. The boy wasn’t there and that was pretty much it. We went our separate ways. The next thing I hear, is that Tommy’s been shot.”
“Yeah, well, you’re right. It’s a little bit more than suspect.” He looked down at his watch. “I’d better get back to Tommy. I’ve left Sonny keeping an eye on him and Gary. Don’t even fucking ask,” he said, noting their raised eyebrows. He bumped back the chair. “I’ll keep you both informed of any developments, and when I get the chance, I’ll dig around, see if I can find out anything about this club that Tommy visited.”
Danny leant forward in his seat for a second time. His body was large and muscular in the small confines of the coffee shop. “You know where I am if you need any help,” he said, his voice taking on a menacing tone.
“Cheers, mate.”
“That goes for me as well, lad,” Mad Dog added.
Jimmy smiled his appreciation. He glanced toward the corridor leading to the Intensive Care Unit and blew out his cheeks. “Right, I’d better get back.”
Both Mad Dog and Danny nodded their heads.
“Uncle Jimmy.”
Spinning around, Jimmy turned to the entrance. Liam ran toward him.
“What’s happened? Is my dad all right?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I’ll explain everything on the way to the ward.”
Danny watched the interaction between uncle and nephew, and raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t wanna be in his shoes right now. He looks as though he’s got the world and its troubles on his shoulders.”
“Aye.” Mad Dog was thoughtful. If the club Tommy had taken him to the night before was anything to go by, then Jimmy would have his work cut out for him. “There’s a lot more yet to come,” he said, nodding his head in the direction Jimmy and Liam had walked.
* * *
“Who did this?” Liam’s cheeks were red with anger. He looked around at his uncles and spat out his words. How could they be so calm, when their brother was lying in the hospital bed barely clinging to life? “Don’t any of you care?”
“Of course we fucking care.” It was Jimmy who answered. “Getting angry isn’t going to change the facts, is it? What you need to do is calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm fucking down? Look at him!” Liam pointed across to his father. He battled to keep the tears from filling his eyes. “How can you tell me to calm down? He’s my dad.”
“Because,” Jimmy grabbed hold of his nephew and pulled him close so he could speak privately in his ear, “people who are angry make mistakes. We go into this calm; we think rational. We find out who the culprits are, and then we make them fucking pay, do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Tears welled up in Liam’s eyes. Silently, he nodded his head.
“Good.” Jimmy kissed the top of his nephew’s head. He glanced across at his younger brothers. His fingertips remained firmly grasped on Liam’s shoulders, and he lowered his voice even further. “Because I can tell you now, I will find them, and when I do, they’re gonna wish they had never been fucking born.” He looked around him for a second time. “Where are your brother and sister? They need to be here with your dad, too.”
Swiping the back of his hand across his tear stained cheeks, Liam stepped out of his uncle’s embrace and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Where’s me mum?”
“Your nan took her outside for some air.” Jimmy turned his attention back to Tommy. Danny McKay’s words were echoing in his ears. Surely it could be no coincidence that his brother had gone to the club in Soho, and then he’d been shot. Deep in thought, he failed to notice how quiet Gary had become.
* * *
Ronald Browning jumped up from his seat and hastily walked toward the front door. “You took your time,” he growled, flinging it open.
Stepping across the threshold, Detective Chief Superintendent Gibbs’s highly polished shoes squeaked across the laminate flooring. The tone in which Ronald spoke to him rankled, and he turned around abruptly. “Think yourself lucky that I even came at all.”
He was a tall man, with a slender, bordering on skinny physique. Bony wrists and long fingers jutted out from the cuffs of his starched black overcoat. His face was long and expressionless, with a distinctive hooked nose and greying hair.
Ronald swallowed quickly. A coward through and through, he wasn’t going to argue, especially not with Gibbs, one of the most bent, criminally minded coppers he had ever had the misfortune to meet, and considering he had spent many years in the company of actual, real, bona-fide criminals, that was saying something.
“So, where is he then?”
Ronald put out his hand, indicating toward the lounge. “I need you to help me get rid of him.” He spoke softly, not wanting the boy to hear. “I can’t have him here for much longer, my cleaner comes in twice per …”
“I couldn’t give a shit about your cleaner,” Gibbs interrupted. He was losing patience. “Just show me to the boy.”
Ronald snapped his mouth closed and pushed open the door leading to the lounge.
Sporting a bruised eye and split lip, Jake Carter’s hair hung across his face in greasy tendrils. Pushing himself against the wall, he warily eyed the two men in front of him with wide eyes.
“Well,” DCS Gibbs said. “Looks like you’ve found yourself in a bit of a situation son, doesn’t it?” He pulled up his trouser legs slightly, and careful not to crease the material, he took a seat opposite Jake on the leather couch. He nodded his greying head toward him as he did so. “The question is, what do we do about it now?” He gave a wide smile, the type of smile that chilled Jake to the very core.
“He won’t tell you anything.” Ronald stepped farther into the room. “I’ve been questioning him for over a week now and …”
Gibbs held up his hand to quieten Ronald down. He smiled once again toward Jake. “Now,” he said, “why don’t you tell me who the men were.” His voice took on an authoritative tone, his steely grey eyes not leaving Jake’s face.
“I don’t know them; I keep telling him that,” Jake spat. He inched his body across the laminate flooring, in a bid to get as far away from the two men as he could.
“Come on now, let’s not play games. I’ve already been told that they know you.” Gibbs leaned forward in his seat. The smile had gone; in its place was a snarl.
Jake remained silent.
“Tell me!” he roared, banging his fist down onto the sofa. “Who are they? How do they know y
ou?”
Physically flinching, Jake cowered. “I don’t know them,” he cried.
“See, Gibbs, now do you see my point?” Ronald threw his arms up in the air. “He won’t talk.”
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Gibbs thought the situation through. Finally, he nodded his head. He stood up and walked toward the front door, indicating for Ronald to follow him.
“Get rid of him. I don’t care how you do it, but make him disappear, and if you ever refer to me by my name in front of someone again, you’ll find yourself at the bottom of the Thames. Do you understand me?” Gibbs stabbed his forefinger into Ronald’s face.
“But how?” Ronald’s eyes flickered toward the lounge. “How do I get rid of him?” he hissed.
With his hand on the door handle, Gibbs turned back to face the man. “You’re a Defence Barrister, use your imagination.” With those parting words, he left Ronald’s apartment.
Still sat on the wooden floor with his back against the wall, Jake looked expectantly toward the lounge door that Ronald had exited. The tip of the kitchen knife he had hidden in his jogging bottoms was digging into the small of his back. He brought his knees up to his chest and pushed himself into a crouching position.
You’re a Carter, he reminded himself once again, as he pulled the knife out from its hiding place and held it tightly in his fist. He began to take deep breaths. His head was bowed, and his eyes remained firmly focused on the lounge door, ready and waiting to pounce forward. You’re a Carter, don’t you ever forget that.