by M A Comley
When they arrived at the Tidy Gang’s hangout—the estate they ruled, at least—Hero and Julie found Trevor Munroe sitting alone, looking subdued, on one of the kids’ swings. He didn’t seem to hear Hero and Julie approach.
“Trevor Munroe?”
The man, who was in his early twenties, glanced up at them, shielding his eyes against the ray of sunlight angled at his face. “Who wants to know?” It was a far gentler enquiry than they’d been expecting from him.
Hero had a feeling the task they had been dreading on the journey over was going to be far easier than either of them had anticipated.
Hero flashed his warrant card then put it back in his jacket pocket. “DI Nelson and DS Shaw. We’d like to ask you a few questions down at the station.”
“About what happened the other day to little Ken?”
Is that why he appears subdued? Because of his mate being torched? Or is his mood something to do with Jez Barrett’s murder? Hero had an inkling that the man’s demeanour was to do with the former scenario rather than the latter.
Munroe scratched his shaven head and moved down to the stubble on his chin in thought before he stood up and followed them to Hero’s car. Julie held the back door open for the young man, and he got in.
As he drove back to the station, Hero constantly checked on Munroe in his rear-view mirror. Something about the man’s mood told him not to expect much when they got back to the interview room.
The desk sergeant acknowledged them when they arrived and pointed at Interview Room Two when Hero asked which room had been assigned to them.
“This is being noted down as an informal chat,” Hero told Munroe. “You can have a solicitor present if you want one.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Do you?”
“Then let’s get started.”
“All right if I tape the conversation?” Hero asked.
“No problem with me.”
“Mr. Munroe,” Hero began after he’d given the tape the usual information of who was attending the interview, the date, time, et cetera. “Is it right that you are recognised as being the leader of the Tidy Gang?”
Munroe nodded.
“Sorry, for the tape’s benefit, a nod isn’t sufficient. Please answer the question.”
“Yes, I’m the gang’s leader.”
“And your rivals are the Krull Gang. Is that correct?”
Munroe nodded before he realised his mistake. “Yeah, that’s right.” His lip turned up as he spoke.
“Maybe you can tell us how long this turf war has been going on between the two gangs?”
“Like forever.”
“Is it true to say that things have escalated recently?”
“Yeah, on their part, anyway.” He shook his head sorrowfully.
“I take it you’re referring to the incident which occurred last week, the one where one of your gang members unfortunately lost his life.”
“Little Ken did nothing to no one. Yeah, he had a big mouth on him, but you show me a little guy who doesn’t try to make up for his size. Every small guy I know has got a bigger mouth than the rest of us. He didn’t ask for that, though. They fuckin’ torched him. They’re sickos. That’s what they are.”
Hero nodded, “They are. This rivalry you have, if something like that happened to one of my friends, I’d want some kind of revenge. Is that what last night was about?”
Munroe’s gaze met his, and Hero could see by the confusion that settled in the other man’s eyes that he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“What?”
“Unfortunately, one of the Krull Gang members was killed last night. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
“Good, I hope he suffered as much as Ken did, but I know nothin’ about it. I swear I don’t.”
“Okay, what about these prostitutes who have been murdered over the last couple of weeks? What do you know about them?” Hero asked.
Munroe shook his head. “Nothin’. I wouldn’t put it past the Krulls to be killing off their own girls, you know, to get others in trouble like.”
Hero’s eyes creased up as he pondered the idea. Would they really do that? Wasn’t that cutting their own noses off? “I can’t see that happening. They’d lose money from the girls.”
Munroe shrugged. “I say it’s possible. They’re sick shits, and girls these days are easy to pick up and turn into hookers, once you get ’em hooked on drugs.”
“Thanks for that insight. Do you run any girls?”
“Nah, not worth the aggro. To be honest, after what happened to Ken, I’m pulling back a bit.”
“Really? You’re thinking of going straight?”
“Yeah, that’s right. The fun has gone out of it since those fuckers arrived on the scene. No one stands a chance against the likes of them. They’re insane, man. I bet if you asked the other gang leaders in the area, they’d say the same thing.”
“That’s what we intend to do. Congratulations if you do give up the gang. It’s going to make our lives much easier.”
Munroe snorted. “Yeah, but there’ll always be some sickos, like the Krulls, startin’ up, thinkin’ they can rule the town. Is that it? I’d like to get on with the rest of my life now, if that’s all right with you?”
“Yep, that’s it. It was just an informal chat. I’m sorry about Ken. We’re doing all we can to stop the Krull Gang. Look, if you need any help getting back into the swing of normal life, we’ve got people who can help you.” Hero handed him one of his cards. “Give me a call, and I’ll put you in touch with them.”
Munroe stood up, picked up the card off the desk, and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks, I doubt I’ll be needing it, though. My brother’s got a building firm. He said if I’m willing to put in the hours and some hard work, he’s willing to show me the ropes.”
“That’s great. Good luck with that.”
The three of them made their way out of the interview room. In the waiting area, a few of the other gang leaders had gathered. Hero cringed, expecting things to kick off, and was very surprised when each of them simply acknowledged the other with a wary glance. Hero showed Munroe out to the car park. “Need a lift back to the estate?”
“Nah, my brother’s working on a house not far from here. Think I’ll surprise him, see what’s goin’ on.”
“You take care, Trevor, and for what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right decision.”
He watched Trevor Munroe walk away, wondering if the man would live up to his word. He had a feeling he would.
Hero joined the rest of the team, and they compared notes on what the gang leaders had divulged during the informal interviews. The grand total amounted to a big fat zero. No one had even mentioned the girl whom they suspected of murdering the prostitutes. All the leaders said the same thing—the Krull Gang was in a league of its own. All the heinous crimes committed in the Manchester area could invariably be attributed to Paul “Crabbie” Crabtree and his gang. So who killed Jez Barrett?
The Audi drew up alongside Trevor Munroe as he neared the gates of the playground on his estate. Even before he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he knew whom the car belonged to. He carried on walking, ignoring the noise of the car door being slammed and the footsteps coming up behind him. He didn’t need long to work out that his fate lay in the hands of others.
“Oy, tosser! Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me.”
Munroe bowed his head, watching one foot step in front of the other, in a kind of daze until an arm grabbed his and yanked him around to face his aggressor.
Crabbie and two of his boys were standing before him, their arms firmly crossed over the chests. Anger emanated like forks of lightning from their beady eyes.
Munroe tapped his foot, hoping to give the aggressive pack the impression that he was bored—which he was. Like he’d told the inspector a couple of hours before, he was bored by all this gang-related shit, and he’d made plans with his brother to mend his ways starting at eight o’clock M
onday morning. All he had to do was convince the three dicks in front of him that he’d made a life-changing decision that would keep him out of their hair.
He spread his arms out to the side and slapped them against his thigh. “What’s up, Crabbie?”
Crabbie looked at his men and shook his head. “He’s a prick, ain’t he?”
The other two youths laughed for a brief second before their faces pulled straight back into an angry glare that said, “Don’t mess with us.”
Crabbie took a step toward him. Trevor tried not to flinch, but it was hard. He could feel the heat of the man’s anger radiating through his clothes.
“I hear you’ve been down the cop shop. What for?”
Not wanting to look the other man in the eye, Trevor let his gaze drift off to the left. “This and that.”
Crabbie lunged and smacked Trevor around the head. “Fuckin’ answer the question properly, or else…”
He swept his arm from left to right. “Take it. It’s all yours. I’m through with all this shit.”
“You’re giving me your territory?”
Trevor nodded, still avoiding Crabbie’s eyes. Why would anyone want to look into the devil’s son’s eyes, given the choice?
“I’ve got news for you, Trev. I’m taking your territory from you. It ain’t yours to fuckin’ give, moron. Now, what did the coppers want?”
Trevor huffed out a sigh. “Nothing really. Wanted to know about the turf wars, that was it.”
Crabbie clobbered him again, this time with a clenched fist to the jaw.
Trevor winced and shouted, “What the fuck was that for? It’s the truth.”
“Once a tosser, always a tosser. Why did you do it?” Crabbie leaned in closer to him.
“Do what, man? I ain’t got the foggiest what you’re on about?”
“Kill him. Why did you kill Jez?”
Munroe’s eyes widened as fear shot through him. Holding his hands up in front of himself, he said, “Now wait a goddamn fuckin’ minute. I didn’t kill him. Why the fuck would you think that?”
“That’s bullshit. You got your revenge for what we did to your runt last week. Well bring it on, big man. Take a pop at me if you have the balls.”
Trevor backed up a few steps, but Crabbie refused to let him out of his reach and followed him. “I swear, I didn’t do Jez over.”
Crabbie mimicked Trevor’s whiny voice, “Are you sure you didn’t do Jez over?”
“Fuckin’ positive. Neither me nor my boys went near him.”
Crabbie glanced over his shoulder at the two youths. “Do we believe his bullshit?”
The youths both shook their heads. Then Crabbie lunged at Trevor and grabbed him around the throat. “What the fuck? Get off me, you twat.”
“Yeah, and who’s goin’ to make me? Where are your boys when you need ’em, eh? Fuckin’ cowards, the lot of you. Mess with one of my boys, and you’re gonna suffer the consequences. Get the towrope out of the car, Stuart.”
Trevor tried to swallow, but Crabbie’s hold on his throat was too tight. He started convulsing, fighting for breath.
Crabbie released his grip slightly and laughed as Trevor sucked a huge gulp of air into his lungs. Stuart came towards them, throwing the thick rope tauntingly between his hands. Then, between them, the three of them tied the rope around Trevor’s body, which had started to tremble violently. He had the ominous feeling that he wasn’t going to get out of this tangled mess alive. Crabbie pushed Trevor forward in the direction of the Audi. Crabbie turned Trevor around and threw him on the ground at the back of the vehicle. Trevor’s bowels loosened as Stuart tied the ends of the rope to the Audi’s tow bar.
Crabbie pointed down at Trevor and laughed riotously. “The fuckin’ coward just shit himself.”
“Don’t do this. I’ll beg for my life if that’s what you want. Please… don’t do this.” Trevor’s pleading went unnoticed as the three Krull Gang members got in the vehicle. The engine started up, and the car took up the slack in the rope. He closed his eyes and reluctantly gave up the will to fight the inevitable. Determined that he wasn’t going to scream his way to death, he bit down hard on his tongue until the iron taste of blood filled his mouth.
The car roared along the road and reached sixty miles an hour before it hit the first corner. It screeched around one bend, then the next, and the next before it returned to where the Krull Gang had picked up Trevor.
Crabbie got out of the vehicle and sliced through the rope, releasing Trevor’s dead, battered body. He spat on him before he got back in the car and drove away as if nothing had happened.
Chapter 20
When the phone on his desk rang, Hero was in the middle of going through the interview notes the team had given him after their meetings with the other gang leaders.
“Hello, DI Nelson.”
“Jesus, have I got a story for you.”
“Wheeler, is that you?”
“Too right, it is. Are you sitting down?”
“I am indeed. What are you so excited about?” Hero asked, his interest going off the scale.
“I had a call from one of the other reporters who has a brother living in one of the roads next to the Shorley Estate…” Wheeler paused for a second.
“Go on, you’re holding my interest so far.”
“Well, he heard a noise outside his house and went to see what was going on. When he looked out the window, he saw that three men had tied up another man—”
“Do you have any names for me?” Hero interrupted him.
“The man tied up was the leader of the Tidy Gang.”
“Shit! What happened?” Hero leaned back in his reclining office chair and bounced back and forth as Wheeler ran through his story.
“You know this guy? You don’t sound too surprised that something has happened to him.”
“Go on. I’ll fill you in later. Wait, has your friend’s brother informed our guys?”
“Yep, he placed the call before he rang me. Not sure if anyone has attended the scene yet, though. Anyway, the three guys tied this other bloke to the tow bar of their Audi and drove off with him. Apparently, they only drove round the block and reappeared a few minutes later. Then they cut the bloke’s lifeless body free. My friend’s brother thought he recognised a couple of the other guys as being members of the Krull Gang. I thought you should know right away.”
“Thanks, Wheeler. I brought Trevor Munroe, the leader of the Tidy Gang in for an informal chat earlier on today. The Krull Gang must have got wind of it and presumed he grassed them up. Damn, the guy was just about to go straight. He was pissed off with all the turf wars shit. Bloody hell! I better get over there. Thanks for the tipoff. This will be another nail in the Krulls’ coffin. Would your friend’s brother be a witness in court against these guys? Without viable witnesses, we’re not going to be able to touch them, and they’re going to keep on killing people willy-nilly.”
“Ah, I’m not sure about that, Inspector. All I can do is ask the question for you.”
“Thanks for asking the question and for making me aware of the situation. I appreciate it.”
“Just remember where the information came from. I’d like an exclusive if you ever bang the gang up.”
“That’s a given, Dave. Thanks for the call.”
Hero glanced at his watch. It was almost five o’clock. “Shaw,” he called out.
Julie appeared in the doorway of his office a minute later. “Yes, sir?”
“Ring the desk sergeant. See if he knows anything about an incident out on the Shorley Estate, will you?”
Frowning, she nodded and left the room. Hero was lost in thought when she returned. “Yep, the incident was a bad one apparently, sir. Do you want to head over there?”
He rose from his seat. “I think we should. Let me just make some notes on the board before we go.”
He added Trevor Munroe’s name to the board alongside the other victims, shaking his head as he did so. Then he and Julie set off
for the crime scene.
The area had been cordoned off with crime scene tape, and the gathering crowd looked stunned by what they’d seen. The body was no longer at the scene. Just inside the playground stood a group of youths, whom Hero presumed were the remaining members of the Tidy Gang. Some of them were staring at the blood patch in the road, while others wiped their damp eyes on the sleeves of their jumpers.
Hero walked up to two uniformed policemen, one of whom was Julie’s boyfriend, Rob. “Have you started getting statements down? Did anyone see anything? Are they connected to Trevor Munroe?”
“No, we haven’t started getting statements down yet. We were waiting for instructions. One person actually saw what happened, but he’s being a little cagey about what he tells us, and yes, that group over there are the Tidy Gang,” Rob Bryce told him in an offhand manner.
Get a life, dickhead! Hero nodded a thank you and walked over to the small group of youths. “Did anyone see the incident?”
Six sets of shocked eyes gazed up at him, and they all shook their heads slowly. Hero felt sorry for the group. Young people shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of shit. He had to remind himself that they had chosen to be part of the gang culture—no one had forced them. “Does anyone need to see a doctor?”
One of the older youths spoke. “Why did they have to kill him? What the fuck is wrong with them? Trev didn’t ask for that.”
“We’ll get them. I’ll promise you that. Why don’t you go back to your homes after my men take a statement from each of you. Are you up to that?”
As if he’d just told the group they were going to be sectioned in a mental hospital, the youths started to back away from him.
“We’ll go back to our hangout, but we ain’t making no statements.” The same youth who had spoken before shook his head vehemently as he spoke.
Hero raised a hand. “All right. I totally understand where you’re coming from. I don’t like it, but I understand, nevertheless. If we manage to get a few witnesses together who are willing to speak out against the Krulls, can I count on your support? For Trev’s sake, maybe?”