by Kerry Kaya
“What’s happened?” she shrieked. Like Gary before her, she could feel the blood drain from her face.
“He’s called it off! The no-good cunt has called the job off.” He rubbed his hand across his jaw as realisation set in. “Sonny just told me that he called a meeting this morning and told them all that he was calling the whole fucking thing off.”
“Why didn’t he tell you this himself?” The words caught in her throat and she narrowed her eyes. “They all knew except you? Why didn’t he call you to the meeting, Gary?”
“I don’t fucking know, do I?”
She picked up her wine glass, and just as quickly, placed it back down onto the table. Her hands were shaking. “He knows. He knows what you did.”
“What we did,” Gary snapped. His cheeks were red, and he had to resist the urge to not throw the glass at the wall in a fit of rage. “What we did.” He stabbed his forefinger toward her. “This was all your idea, remember?”
It was the first time Gary had ever raised his voice to her, and in that instant, she knew the shift of power had altered. Her body shook even harder. “He knows,” she repeated, her voice low.
After what seemed an age, Gary gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “So fucking what. It’s Jimmy, he’s hardly worth worrying about, is he?” He started to laugh. “He’s a fucking pussy, what’s he gonna do, eh? Throw his handbag at me?”
Bethany swallowed deeply. She could only hope and pray, for both their sakes, that that was actually true.
* * *
At that precise moment, Jimmy was making his way down the pathway of the house Bethany Johnson owned. He tapped his knuckles on the door and stood back slightly, waiting for it to be opened.
“Cameron, right?” He grinned at the young man in front of him and held out his hand. “I’m your Uncle Jimmy. I thought it was time I properly introduced myself to you.”
Taken aback, Cameron shook the proffered hand. “That’s right.” He gave a shy smile. “I know who you are; we’ve met before.”
“So we have. It was at my brother Tommy’s house.”
Cameron nodded his head. “My dad’s not here at the moment, but if you want to come in and wait for him, you can.” He pushed the door open even wider.
Jimmy smiled his thanks. It was exactly what he was hoping the boy would say, not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. Either way, he was going to gain entry to the house.
He stepped across the threshold and turned his back to close the front door. Only now, did the smile leave his face.
“I think that they went out for a quick drink, so they shouldn’t be too long. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”
Jimmy closed his eyes tightly. He counted to three and then slowly turned around. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he smiled.
“I’ll make some coffee.” Cameron gave his uncle a wide smile and continued walking down the hallway. He’d barely made it to the lounge door, when he was rugby tackled, head-first, to the floor.
Pushing his full weight down on top of his nephew, Jimmy yanked the younger man’s arm painfully upward behind his back. “Make one fucking sound, and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” Jimmy hissed.
From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a length of rope, and quickly and efficiently bound it around both of the struggling man’s wrists. He pulled the rope tight and secured it with a double knot. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be able to escape, he yanked him to his feet and dragged him backwards through the lounge, pulled out a dining chair, and slammed him down onto it, jarring his spine.
The threat of having his throat slit if he made a sound hung heavy in the air, and Cameron flinched as Jimmy moved around him. “Why are you doing this?” he pleaded, his voice a mere whisper.
“It’s your dad I really want to see,” Jimmy said, as he produced a second length of rope from his pocket. Quickly and efficiently, he tied the boy to the chair. “But seeing as he’s not here, I’ll start with you.” He tested the tightness of the knots and began to back out of the room. “Move and I’ll kill you,” he warned. Hastily, he opened the front door and collected the small navy-blue holdall that he had placed at the side of the doorstep.
Returning to the lounge, he looked around him, gathered up two dining chairs, and placed them in the middle of the room, a few feet apart. He then unzipped the holdall and took out a six-inch carving knife.
“She won’t care, you know. Whatever you do to me, my mum won’t care.”
Jimmy took a seat on the plush velvet sofa and rested his forearms on his knees. “You’re right, she couldn’t give a toss about you.” He cocked his head sideways. “But your dad,” he stabbed the knife toward his nephew, “now your dad, on the other hand, he is gonna care.”
* * *
All Bethany wanted to do was go home. She’d downed her wine in double quick time and begged Gary to do the same. Finally, they were seated in the car and she found herself feeling increasingly agitated by his lack of concern.
“Please, will you just take me home,” she cried.
“You know what’s really bothering him, don’t you?”
She shook her head, not wanting to be drawn into the conversation.
“With the big fucking I am, Tommy, gone, he wants to take over.” He gave her a sideways glance. “This is what this is all about. He thinks he can lord it over everyone. He’s got the rest of the fucking muppets trailing after him, and he doesn’t like the fact that I’m stronger than him, that I’m more astute than him. I could have planned that robbery out in minutes, but not Jimmy, oh no, meeting after fucking meeting he called, just to work out the simplest of plans.”
“Please, Gary, will you just take me home.” Her voice had an edginess to it, and she could feel a bubble of hysteria beginning to build within her. “I just want to go home.” What she really wanted to do was go home, pack a suitcase, grab her passport, and run back to Spain, before Jimmy called the police on them.
Gary started the ignition and began to move the car forward. “It was all a lie see, him following Tommy around for all of those years.” He tapped the side of his nose. “He’s been waiting to take over.”
Bethany looked at him, aghast. Did he really believe what he was saying? She clasped her hands tightly in her lap as he picked up speed. “Please, will you slow down,” she yelled.
“I know what’s really going on,” he continued to utter.
She closed her eyes tightly. Dear God, just let me get home in one piece, she prayed.
* * *
Oncoming headlights shone through the lounge window as a car pulled onto the drive.
Jimmy turned toward his nephew and gave him a bright smile. “Looks like it’s show time, kid.” He rose slowly from the sofa, walked around to the back of the boy, and grasped a handful of his hair in his fist, pulling back his head as he did so. “No hard feelings, sunshine, but at the end of the day, I’m sorry to say, you’re nothing but collateral damage.”
He stood poised with the knife held to his nephew’s throat waiting for the imminent arrival of his brother. The house was deathly silent, and his body became tense as he heard a key turn in the lock. He could hear footsteps cross the hallway, and could hear their voices grow louder as they neared the lounge. His face was a mask of hatred as he patiently waited.
He sensed their shock and confusion as soon as they entered the room.
Gary was the first to speak, and he dismissively flapped his hand toward him. “Give it a rest, Jimmy,” he laughed. “Let go of my boy.”
Jimmy shook his head. He inched the knife closer to the boy’s neck. “Not until you start talking.”
“Talk?” Gary laughed even harder. “What do you wanna talk about, eh?”
“You fucking know,” Jimmy roared.
Gary gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to guess?” He turned to look at his son’s mother and rolled his eyes. “He ain’t gonna do fuck all; he hasn’t got the bottle.”
Jimmy kept his cool. “You’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that, eh?” He turned around and spread out his arms, his voice taking on a bored tone. “Come on, Jimmy, I’m all ears. What exactly am I forgetting?”
He pushed the point of the knife into the side of Cameron’s neck, ignoring the boy’s shocked scream. “I had a very good teacher.”
Sucking his teeth, Gary narrowed his eyes. Even from his position, he could see that the trickle of blood that ran down his son’s neck was already soaking the cotton T-shirt he wore. “Let the boy go.”
“Nah.” Jimmy dug the knife in deeper. Beneath him, the clearly terrified boy ceased screaming; instead, he began to whimper in fear.
“Please, Dad, do as he says.”
Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “Well?” he asked. “You heard the boy.”
Gary remained silent. Jimmy wouldn’t dare hurt his son, would he?
“Tie him up,” Jimmy instructed Bethany, nodding his head toward the length of rope on the floor beside the empty dining chair.
“For fuck’s sake, Jimmy, let him go. You could hit a fucking artery.”
“Not until she’s tied you up.”
“Let him fucking go.”
Jimmy smiled. “What are you getting out of your pram for? It’s only a scratch. I haven’t even started on him yet.” He slammed his knee into the small of the Cameron’s back and brought the knife up to his cheek. “I’m warning you, Gal, I’m not playing games. Now do as I say.” He dug the knife into the boy’s cheek and slowly dragged it downwards through skin and flesh, leaving an open wound in its wake. The boy began to scream even louder.
“Please, Dad.”
“All right, stop.” Reluctantly, Gary nodded his head. He could see that his son was bleeding out profusely and he held up his hands in surrender. “All right, I’ll do what you want.” He sat down, held out his wrists, and glared at his brother. “Are you fucking happy now? Now do yourself a favour and get away from my son.”
Jimmy laughed off the threat; he was more than aware that he held all of the cards. Underneath his watchful eye, Bethany tied Gary’s wrists behind his back, then, using the second length of rope, she tied him to the chair. Once finished, she stood awkwardly, unsure of what she was expected to do next.
“Sit down,” Jimmy ordered her. He placed the knife between his teeth and moved forward, double checked that Gary would be unable to break free, then set about tying her to the chair.
“Right, that’s better.” He took a seat on the sofa, steepled his fingers in front of him, and took a few moments to bask in their discomfort.
“I thought that we could play a game.” His booming voice broke the silence, making them jump. He stabbed the knife forward and gave a wide grin. “And I know how much you three like playing games.”
Chapter 21
“Now the game is, and I think that you’re really gonna like this one, Gal, the game is called, ‘Where Were You?’” He leaned backwards on the sofa, not taking his eyes away from them. “So let’s start off nice and easy, shall we? So, where were you today?”
They remained silent.
Looking from one to the other, Jimmy’s voice rose. “Well, come on, it ain’t that difficult.” He turned his attention to Bethany. “Where were you today?”
She shook her head.
“No, you don’t wanna answer?” Jimmy shook his own head as if disappointed in her. “Okay, if that’s how you want it, I’ll start. Today, I travelled back from Liverpool, after collecting my niece, and believe me, she had quite a tale to tell.”
Gary narrowed his eyes, unsure of where his brother was going with all of this.
“So, I’ll ask again,” he said as he stabbed the knife toward Bethany, “where were you today?”
Bethany’s voice was husky as she answered, her throat dry. “Shopping, I went shopping.”
“See, it’s not so difficult, is it?” He turned to face his brother, barely able to stop himself from snarling. “And where were you?”
“At the fucking scrapyard.” Gary spat out the words.
“See, I knew you two would like this game.” He sat forward. “So how about we make it a bit more difficult?” He glared once more at his brother. “Where were you at the precise moment Tommy was shot?”
Gary remained silent.
“Come on, Gal, it ain’t that difficult. I can tell you exactly where I was.” He began turning the knife over in his hand, the contempt he felt for his brother clearly evident across his face. “Where were you?” he roared.
Still, Gary didn’t answer.
Jumping up from the sofa, Jimmy strode across the room toward his nephew. He grasped the boy’s hair in his fist and waved the knife dangerously close to the boy’s eye. “I asked you a question. Where were you?” he roared.
Bethany screamed. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to watch. Finally, her maternal instincts had rushed to the fore, only it was two decades too late for that.
“Okay,” Gary yelled. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Just come away from the boy.”
Throwing the boy’s head away from him, Jimmy moved back toward the sofa. Before he even had the chance to sit down, Gary began speaking.
“So, yeah, all right, Sherlock, you’ve sussed it all out, caught me bang to rights. I was there.”
Jimmy held his breath.
“I was there. Are you happy now?” A grin spread across his face. “And do you wanna know something? I relive that day over and over in my mind, savouring every single second of it.” He began to laugh. “Honestly, Jimmy, you should have been there. It was out of this fucking world, bruv. Honest to God, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. The big I am, Tommy, begging me not to end his sorry life.”
Jimmy turned his back on his brother. He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to listen; he didn’t think he had the strength to hear the intricate details.
Gary began to laugh hysterically; his voice took on a sing-song tone as he mimicked Tommy’s voice. “Don’t kill me. Please, Gal. Think of Mum. Think of Stacey. Think of my kids.” His head rolled to the side as he laughed, barely able to catch his breath.
“Will you shut up,” Bethany hissed. “You’re making it worse.”
Finally, he became serious. “I don’t recall hearing your name being mentioned though.” He gave his brother a sad smile and stuck out his bottom lip. “But I’m sure, given time, he would have done.” He began to laugh once more. “I can hear it now, ‘Think of Jimmy.’”
Slowly, Jimmy turned around; his face was a mask of hatred. The words Gary spoke both shocked and repulsed him. Not taking his eyes off of his brother, he strode across the room.
“Jimmy.”
Still, Jimmy continued walking.
Gary bucked his body, desperately trying to get out of the ropes that confined him. His face turned red with rage. “I said, don’t,” he screamed.
“Now it’s your fucking turn. You beg for your son’s life.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Nah, I can’t hear you, Gal.” He pressed his hand to his ear as though he couldn’t hear him, and tilted his head to one side.
“Don’t hurt my fucking boy!” Gary cried. He wriggled underneath the ropes and swayed his body from side to side in an attempt to move the chair.
“Too fucking late for that.” Without pausing, Jimmy thrust the knife into the boy’s stomach.
In shock, Cameron’s mouth fell open. He looked up at his dad with a pained expression and tried to speak. Tiny frothy air bubbles filled his mouth and airway.
“What have you done?” Gary roared.
The boy began to gurgle, and a trickle of blood fell from his nose. Finally, he slumped forwards, becoming still.
Bethany howled.
Screwing up his nose, Jimmy crouched beside her. He used the knife to lift a lock of hair away from her face, and he cocked his head to one side to look at her. “Don’t worry,” he whispered i
n her ear, “you’re next.”
She howled even louder.
* * *
“So what’s the big emergency?” Janet looked toward her granddaughter and daughter-in-law.
“No emergency.” Karen gave them a nervous smile. “There’s just something I want to tell you both.” She led the way through to the lounge and gestured for her mother and grandmother to sit down.
Taking a seat on the leather chesterfield sofa, Stacey shrugged her shoulders. “Well, come on out with it, what’s going on?”
“Well, Mum … Nan.” She slipped her hand into her shirt pocket and pulled out a scan photo that she thrust it into her mother’s hands. “I’m … I’m having a baby.”
“A baby?” Stacey’s mouth fell open. She glanced at the photo and turned to look at her mother-in-law, seeing the same shock she herself felt etched across the older woman’s face. “What do you mean a baby? Whose baby?
“You know full well whose baby.”
“Oh, I see.” Stacey raised her eyebrows and sat up straight. “Well, I’m not so sure that’s even allowed.” She lowered her voice. “He’s your cousin.”
“Yes, I know that, Mum.” She turned to look at Janet. “What do you think, Nan?”
“Well?” Feeling just as flabbergasted as her daughter-in-law, Janet shook her head. “What your mum said. Is it even legal?”
“Yes, it is legal, Nan.”
“And will it be all right?” She nodded her head toward her granddaughter’s still flat stomach. “I mean will it be normal?”
“Janet?!” Stacey’s mouth fell open.
“Well, I don’t know, do I?” She shrugged her shoulders. “You hear about things like this, and well, the babies don’t always come out quite right, do they?”
“It won’t have two heads, if that’s what you mean.” Karen tilted her chin in the air, a steely defiance in her voice.
“Of course I didn’t bleeding well mean that.” She grasped hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweetheart, that’s all.”