by Anna Smith
‘Okay. I think it’s best, as you say, to play it by ear.’ She paused, glanced around at everyone. ‘The little boy is the most important thing of all in this operation. I know we’re all placing ourselves in danger, but that’s what we do when our backs are to the wall. But there’s an innocent little boy in the middle of this who is all that matters. I want all of you to keep that at the forefront of your mind, no matter what decisions you make at every single stage.’ She spread her hands a little. ‘Look, I’m not preaching or anything, but I cannot emphasise this enough. We have to bring this boy back alive and well. This is our only chance.’
There was a long moment of silence in the room and Kerry hoped it was sinking in to every single person how important this operation was. Then Danny turned to her.
‘Now, Kerry. In the restaurant it will be very much a play-it-by-ear situation as well. Rodriguez and his thugs may already be there when you arrive, so you go in, and no doubt you’ll be searched. You just sit down, whatever, make the greeting and wait. It’s all over to you then, how you deal with this bastard. I know you hate him with a vengeance, and that he has brought all this down upon us, but I’m sure you know how to handle him. Just take it easy. You are there under pressure, to hand over the rights to everything your family has ever owned to a complete bastard, so he’ll not be expecting you to want to hug him.’
‘I know,’ Kerry said, feeling she should take over. ‘I’ll know what to say and what to do when I’m in the situation, Danny. I’ll be fine. Businesslike and cooperative.’
‘Good.’ He turned to the boys at the end of the table. ‘They’ll give you a nod when the action will start. Probably once you sign the papers. But again, we have to wait and see what happens. We have to be prepared just in case this bastard has got other plans up his sleeve.’
For a moment, Kerry remembered the organisation of Knuckles Boyle and the drugs bust where he was caught red-handed, and how it was a little more comforting to know that there was a raft of armed policemen in the vicinity as well as her own men. It had niggled her from the start that perhaps she should have brought Vinny and the cops into this. But she was too afraid they would take over and it would be out of her hands. They were on their own on this, and the moment she stepped into that restaurant, even though she knew the barmen and the manager and the guests were probably armed to the teeth, she would still feel on her own.
‘Okay,’ Kerry said. ‘And what about little Finbar? Once we get him, where are we going to take him? It’s not as though we can turn up at Marty’s house.’
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘We’re working on that. But we’ll transfer him to the car that’s following the lads, and then we’ll have to work out where to leave him so he will be found immediately. Obviously we can’t just leave him in the street. We’re looking at taking him to the supermarket up on Maryhill Road as a possibility. But it’s going to depend on how it all unfolds at the time.’
‘Fine,’ Kerry said. ‘I want to be phoned the moment he is safe, so I can call Marty.’
‘Of course,’ Jack said.
Danny looked around the table.
‘All right everyone, any questions?’
Nobody spoke.
‘Okay, then good luck, everyone. Look after each other.’ He gestured to the back of the room where there were guns on the table, rifles and ammunition. ‘Go along and talk to Danny who will tool everyone up. Make sure your weapon is ready to use when you need it. Be decisive and accurate. You might only get one shot.’ He turned to Tahir and Cal. ‘And you lads do everything Jake tells you to do. Be ready and be safe.’ He stood up. ‘Right. Off you go. There’s breakfast for you in the kitchen. Everyone stay around here and get organised until it’s time to go.’
Chapter Sixteen
Kerry sat in the back of the Merc as it cruised along Great Western Road and out of the city. Earlier she’d watched from her bedroom as the various cars left with men tooled and booted. It was like a small army going out on an operation, and she had never seen anything like this in the years when her father or Mickey ran the organisation. Perhaps there had been more of this with Mickey, but she had been away for so long, and she had never seen any evidence of it on her visits home. It was a comfort to know that so many of them were like family and all pulling in the one direction, but she was not under any illusion of how dangerous the next couple of hours of her life were going to be. She’d felt a little nauseated earlier and could only risk eating a couple of slices of toast. But now that she was in the car and on her way, she was beginning to feel stronger. She spotted the restaurant in the distance as the car slowed down, and she turned around to see their other car that was following them. When they turned into the restaurant car park, the other car also slowed down but drove on. She knew it would be nearby and primed.
In the car park there were three cars: two Mercedes and one Range Rover. Instinctively she looked over her shoulder and watched as Jack got out, his eyes sweeping the area. The cars had blacked-out windows, so they had no idea how many people were inside or what they were doing. She wondered how many guns were trained on her right now.
‘Should we just go in?’ she asked Jack, as she pulled her bag onto her shoulder.
‘Yeah. I think that’s best. He might already be in there. But we’ve got a couple of cars arriving shortly, so they’ll just sit in the wings and wait.’ He took a breath. ‘Let’s go, Kerry. You all right?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and meant it. ‘I’m fine. I’m ready.’
‘Okay. You’ll be all right. Just keep calm and know that we’re all around. Nothing’s going to happen to you.’
‘I wonder how it’s going down at the house where they’re holding the wee man.’
‘Don’t concern yourself with that just now. Just focus on reeling this fucker in. He has to believe you mean business here today.’
They walked towards the door where a burly minder in shades stood in their way. He moved to the side and opened the door. Kerry walked in first to the dimly lit restaurant, full of dark shadowy corners and empty tables. She glanced around quickly and clocked her boy Tom behind the bar, and then Paul coming up to greet her. At the far end of the restaurant, just beyond the bar, three men sat around a table. They had golf clubs stacked at the side as though they were either on their way or returning from a round. They didn’t look up when she came in but continued chatting. She hoped they were her men, but she hadn’t seen them before.
She glanced around to the other side of the restaurant and then she saw him. Pepe Rodriguez. The bastard was really here. He’d come all this way to take from her everything she had, everything her father had built up: the pubs, the taxis, the property. Yes, the drugs too, and that was part of who she was, the part she hated. But this thug had come here to take it all, and he had used a frightened little boy as a means of negotiation. She stared hard at him, but he kept his eyes front and didn’t look up, even though she knew he would be aware of her arrival. A tall, skinny, sallow-skinned man came forward from the bar along with a squat little man. They both looked South American.
‘Mees Casey. You permit if we search. Sorry. But is necessary,’ the small guy said, putting his hand out for her bag. She handed it to him. Then the tall, skinny guy stepped forward. He raised his arms in a gesture that would mean he could search. She did the same and put her arms out. He briefly ran a hand beneath her coat, across her back and briefly down her legs. He didn’t linger on her thighs or the waist of her trousers. But he still gave her the creeps. Then he turned and did the same to Jack who stood giving him the cold stare while he performed his search. Jack pulled up the stool at the bar, sat and ordered a drink.
‘Follow me, please,’ the squat man said.
She walked behind him, her heart picking up speed, and she took a long breath and held it for a few seconds to keep herself calm. Only when she was almost at the table did Rodriguez turn around to face her. Then he got to his feet, something resembling a smile breaking across his handsome
face.
‘Ah!’ He stretched out a hand. ‘The beautiful Kerry Casey. I have been waiting for this moment.’ He smiled, flashing strong white teeth. ‘You are just as I remember you. Beautiful, but with the fire in your eye.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Come. Sit. We can talk.’
Kerry kept her eyes on him, locking his gaze as she sat down and, as planned, slipping her jacket off and putting it over the back of the chair. She didn’t know what to say, but she felt she should say something, because this bastard was already acting like she was some member of fucking staff.
‘I’m here, Pepe,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘because you leave me with no option.’ She glared at him, her hatred burning her gut. Then she tried to soften her expression. ‘But yes. I hope we can talk.’
‘Of course.’ He leaned forward. ‘And please understand, Kerry, that we do business a little differently in my country. If we want something, then we have to find a way to take it. That is all that has happened here.’
‘Yeah. Sure.’ She glanced over his shoulder at one of his minders sitting a few tables away, his eyes everywhere. ‘Tell that to the family of little Finbar Kane who you’ve been keeping for several days now. A terrified little boy. It’s a cruel way you do business in your country, Pepe.’ She spread her hands. ‘But that is where we are. So let’s get on with it.’
He snapped his fingers and the waiter came over. He ordered a glass of red wine, while Kerry asked for mineral water.
‘No wine to seal our partnership, then, Kerry?’ He said it with a hint of a snarl.
‘What partnership? I didn’t realise we were partners, if you forgive me. You came here to steal my business.’
‘But it doesn’t have to be like that, my cariño. We can be partners.’
This was news to Kerry. Being partners with a scumbag like him was never on the table at any stage, apart from something Frankie had mentioned on the phone and she thought he was just trying to wind her up. She had papers in here to sign everything over to him, but hopefully if their plan worked out she wouldn’t have to. ‘Partners?’
‘Yes, yes. I want to work with you,’ he continued quickly. ‘I think you are smart and intelligent as well as beautiful. We can build something together in our enterprise. We can give to each other – my organisation and money and yours too.’ He leaned forward. ‘I talked to Durkin. He’s a smart enough man, even if he doesn’t look it. But we have talked about everything about where the business could go. He knows Spain very well. He suggests we all work together. We can make an agreement here. I don’t want to take your livelihood, all that your family built. I want to make it bigger, more successful. This hotel is only the start.’
She listened in disbelief. She had to think on her feet how to handle this.
‘I had not been under any impression you seriously wanted to go into business with me. When your message boy Frankie mentioned it I assumed he was joking.’
‘But I do. I want that very much.’
‘So why prepare papers for me to hand everything over?’
‘Because on paper I will own everything. But you will work with me.’
‘You mean I will work for you.’
‘Well,’ he shrugged, ‘if you want to put it like that, but I don’t see it that way. You will make a lot of money. But I will be the person who is head of the business. The hotel will be in the name of my company – and you can operate it for me. I have much money to invest in this, and also in the property around Costa del Sol and even in the north of Spain. Not forgetting my shipments, of course. I have big plans. We can make huge amounts of money if we all work together.’
The very sound of his voice was irritating her, and it was all that she could do to contain her simmering rage. The waiter came across with the menus and stood reeling off the specials, and then there was a sudden noise as something crashed on the stone floor at the other side of the room. She turned automatically in the direction of the noise, as did Pepe, and while they were distracted, the waiter slipped something into her pocket. She kept her eyes on the source of the noise.
‘Golfers,’ she said. ‘I think they are having a day out.’ She forced a smile.
‘See how beautiful you look when you relax, Kerry. I am very much looking forward to many times like this with you.’ He picked up the menu. ‘So, let’s choose something to eat.’
She picked up the menu and the waiter came across from the bar and they both ordered.
‘So do you have the papers with you?’ Rodriguez asked.
‘Yes. I had my lawyer prepare them. I understand you have papers too?’
‘Yes, and they are translated.’ He clicked his fingers and one of his flunkies came across with a folder with ribbon around it. He handed it to Rodriguez who then gave it over to Kerry. She glanced through it, but didn’t get much further than the part where it said, ‘I, Kerry Casey, hereby sign everything . . .’ She flicked to the next page and the following pages, reading quickly.
‘Where is the boy?’ She placed the papers on the table and looked directly at him.
‘The boy is fine.’
‘Where is he? When will I see him?’
‘In good time. Of course. We eat. We have lunch and then I will have him brought to you.’
‘What, here? You’ll bring him here?’
Kerry said it loud enough so that Jack could hear, and she hoped he would take action. The last place they wanted the boy to be brought was here, where it could all kick off and he could be caught in the crossfire. She saw him slip out his mobile. Kerry began to feel a little sweat stinging her back. She took a gulp of water.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. I’m fine. I just want to see the boy. I have been so worried about him.’ She took a breath. ‘Can you show me a picture of him? All I’ve had so far are calls from Frankie Martin, and nothing solid to show me that Finbar is alive. You must have something.’
Rodriguez looked at her with his black eyes, then raised a hand and clicked his fingers. One of his flunkies came up to the table, and he spoke softly to him in Spanish. Kerry could understand that he was asking for him to get the photo up on his mobile. She watched, her mouth dry. Then the flunkey brought up a photo and thrust it in front of her. She felt her heart stop. She hadn’t met Finbar, but had seen pictures of him in the newspapers, and photos that Marty had shown her of a sunny, happy little boy. This was definitely his image, and that was today’s newspaper next to him. But it was the face of a little boy with big watery eyes, frightened, his little mouth turned down as though he was about to burst into tears. Kerry swallowed her emotion and her chest ached. She nodded. The flunkey closed the picture and went back to his table.
‘Now you see him. Okay?’
‘It will never be okay, Pepe.’ She glared at him.
He shrugged. ‘But trust me. He will be here. So all you have to do is sign the papers and I make the call.’
Kerry got to the last page and took her pen from her bag. Then she glanced up at Jack at the bar who made the tiniest gesture with his hands that she took to mean stall things a little. Maybe he was waiting on word from the guys about Finbar. Fine. She steeled herself. She’d have to improvise. She flicked through the pages again, conscious that Rodriguez was watching her, and she pushed her hair back with one hand and massaged her neck, giving the Colombian a look that she knew he would think was a slight come-on.
‘Look, Pepe,’ she said, glancing at the papers. ‘Before I sign this, I have to say that it’s a surprise to me you suddenly saying you want to be working with me. I don’t see how that’s going to work if I don’t have a stake on paper.’ She shrugged and held out her hands. ‘What you’re doing here, Pepe, is taking my business, and asking me to work with you. For you, in effect. So can we not talk about a little wriggle room here?’
‘Wriggle room? What is this? I don’t understand.’
‘Wriggle room,’ she repeated. ‘It means a bit of room for manoeuvre, for movement. Surely we can come to some kind
of arrangement?’ Kerry moistened her lips a little and knew she had his full attention. But Christ. She didn’t know how long she could keep this up.
Chapter Seventeen
Cal and Tahir sat in the back seat of the blacked-out Merc as they drove towards the house in Maryhill Road. Jake Cahill had told them on the way that the guy they were going to pick up was Sinc, another piece of shit who had been used by the kidnappers to move Finbar around. Sinc sat between them now, clutching his mobile phone as though it were a lifeline, and Cal could almost smell the fear coming off him. They had only met him moments before as he was brought out of the Portakabin at the scrapyard where he was being held, and marched to the Merc by two of the guys Cal had seen from time to time working security for the Caseys. They were hard-looking bastards, and Cal was surprised that Sinc didn’t have a mark on him, but his face was deathly pale. Cal knew there was another car behind them as backup, and right now he didn’t even know what the plan was. Sinc’s mobile suddenly pinged with a text, and Cal could feel him go rigid. He eyed the line. Then he listened as Sinc read it out to Jake.
‘That’s them,’ he said. ‘The text says, “We’ll be ready. Ten minutes. Ring the bell twice. One of us will go with you to the next address.”’
‘Fine,’ Jake said. He nudged the driver to slow down a little. Then he took out his mobile and made a call. ‘Lads.’ His voice was soft, gentle, in control. ‘They’re ready. I want you to drive past the house a couple of times and tell me what you see.’ Then he hung up.
A few minutes later, as they continued towards Maryhill Road, Jake’s mobile rang and he answered it.
‘Okay. Fine. I see.’
He turned around so he was facing the back seat. ‘Right, boys. Before we get there, we’re going to stop up the road and I’m going to get out of this car and go with the car behind us. Okay?’ He looked at Cal. ‘You, son, will stay in the car with Sinc, so it’s only the two of you who go to the door. You got that?’ He looked at Tahir. ‘You will come with me. You understand?’