by Anna Smith
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kerry listened as Billy Hill bleated about how he couldn’t do business with the Colombians any more. But she made sure she showed little reaction. She didn’t have a lot of sympathy for him. And she wasn’t about to welcome him into the fold with open arms. Because Hill, along with Pat Durkin, had been part of the cabal who had brought the bastard Pepe Rodriguez into their lives in the first place. She wanted to tell him that her memory wasn’t short lived. And she wanted to ask him if he could remember the last time they met – when he stood side by side with Rodriguez and Durkin, and the message to Kerry and the Casey organisation was that they were muscling in on her empire. To be fair, Hill had been the least menacing and slimy of the three of them that day they’d met in the Glasgow hotel, but Kerry had been in no doubt whose camp Hill was in. But now, he was coming here to her, offering his help. She was grateful for that, because right now, with the shit hitting the fan all over the place, she needed all the bodies she could get, and having the Hills and his mob in London onside with her, she just might be able to take the Colombians on. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easy. They were having lunch with Danny and Jack in La Rotunda restaurant on the ground floor of a famous Glasgow landmark on the banks of the River Clyde. The circular red-brick restaurant, which had once covered a deep tunnel across the river, had been a favourite of Kerry’s during visits to Glasgow from Spain as a teenager when her mother and Auntie Pat would take her dinner. She tried not to think of those cherished times now, as she concentrated on what Hill was saying. She watched as he spoke rapidly in his Cockney twang, laying it all out on the table for her.
‘So, the bottom line is, Kerry,’ he said, pushing back his shock of lush silver hair. ‘I’m out. I’m finished with those Colombian fuckers. I mean, after the way they took Pat out. That’s a fucking liberty, that is. Pat could be a bit of a cunt at times, but he didn’t deserve that.’
‘It’s how they do business, Billy,’ Kerry said, giving a little shrug. ‘I don’t know why you’re surprised about that. What did you expect from Rodriguez?’ She paused, seeing his face fall a little. He looked like he’d been expecting her to be more onside with him. She let it hang for a moment as Hill’s eyes darted from Danny to Jack. Kerry leaned forward. ‘For a start. Did you see what they did to John O’Driscoll? Did you know about that? They gouged his eyes out. Chopped him up like a piece of meat, for Christ’s sake. What did you say about that?’
Hill immediately put up his hands.
‘Absolutely fucking not. No way. On my grandson’s life, I knew fuck all about that. I promise you, Kerry. That’s the whole problem I had with them. I got the feeling from the first week that somehow I didn’t feature in Rodriguez’s grand plans for the future. To tell you the truth, I was suspicious that Durkin was double-crossing me, because I know he was capable of that. But before I get the chance to really pursue it, suddenly he’s history.’
Hill looked from one to the other around the table, his face flushed, and Kerry detected the whiff of desperation in his demeanour. This was one of London’s most hardened criminals, well used to bodies piling up, punishment beatings and executions. He’d been running drugs, guns and women from Europe for years and was powerful and feared in London and Spain. Yet here he was, a worried man, ready to throw in his lot with the Glasgow mobsters who he’d been told were out of their depth.
‘You didn’t know about O’Driscoll? Nothing at all? What about Marty Kane’s boy being kidnapped?’ She studied his face for lies.
‘Fuck all, Kerry! I promise you! All I was told by Durkin was that they were going to hit you hard. When I asked what was going on, I was told it was a kidnapping. The last thing I expected was for it to be a little kid. That’s just bang out of order.’
‘So why was the Colombian freezing you out?’ she said. ‘I’m curious. Seriously. I need you to tell me everything, Billy.’
He took a gulp of his wine and seemed to relax a little, his shoulders dropping as he sat back.
‘As far as I can see, and based on what I hear from my boys and connections over in Spain, Rodriguez and his gang are basically just muscling in on everyone. There are plenty of players on the Costa who are small potatoes when it comes to cocaine trafficking. They either work for the big boys, or they have their own smaller operations. Rodriguez is hoovering them all up. I hear he’s offering big bucks to people he’s picked out to join forces with him. Don’t get me wrong, the Colombians are already big in Spain and across Europe – of course. But with the Russians and Albanians putting themselves about a lot more these days, they need to make sure they hang onto their turf, and the end game is about being top dog so that everyone from London, Manchester to Dublin to here in Scotland buys from them. The middlemen are all theirs. I’m told he wants to take charge of the women, the gun running – the fucking lot. It’s me who’s taken the risk bringing in the guns over the years and I’ve got it down to a fine art – same with my cocaine importing. Sure, I’d have been up for buying some coke from him, but not exclusively. I’m not a fucking Commie where we all have to deal with some single regime running the show. I’m my own man. When your Mickey was alive, him and Frankie worked with us, with Knuckles Boyle, and we all traded with Durkin’s mob. I have contacts across Europe and so did they to an extent. But I have the most. I’m not about to chuck all that in the fire to team up with some cunt who kidnaps little kids to prove a point. No way.’
Kerry glanced at Danny and Jack who had been silent during Hill’s rant. He sounded to Kerry like a defence counsel trying to convince the jury that his client was a good guy, despite the pile of evidence to the contrary. But she was satisfied that he was rattled enough to have come to them, and sounded indignant and sincere enough in what he was saying. She hoped to Christ she wasn’t being taken in. But people like Danny had known him years ago, and though he was a slippery bastard in his day, Hill was older now. He had grandchildren, and he was rich. He wanted to keep it that way, maintain his lifestyle, and avoid having his eyes gouged out.
‘Okay,’ Kerry finally said, looking at Jack and Danny. ‘I think we can do business together, Billy. For the moment anyway. As a self-preservation move. Let’s call it that. Rodriguez is going to come after us. He was coming after me anyway, after what happened to him here. But once he gets wind that you’ve come over to our side, then we can expect an avalanche. So we have to be prepared for that.’
She looked at Danny, expecting him to come up with the logistics.
‘Yeah,’ Danny said. ‘We need to be able to trust each other, Billy. I told you that when we spoke the other day. I mean a hundred per cent. But we also need to know that your boys are on our side. Completely. You need to be sure who you are bringing to this fight, and the last thing we need is someone who can be got at. So you be clear about that.’ He glanced at Jack. ‘It won’t end well for any spies in the camp who betray us. You make sure they know that.’
Hill narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m bringing my best men. I’ve already beefed up my security on my businesses down the road, so I’ve freed up the very top guys to come on board if Rodriguez brings the fight to us.’
‘Oh I don’t think there is any “if” Rodriguez brings the fight to us, Billy,’ Danny said. ‘It’s a case of how, and when.’
Jack nodded slowly, and they sat for a long moment saying nothing. Kerry looked at all three of the men in front of her, and a little shiver ran through her that – apart from Sharon in Spain – these were the only people she could trust her life with at the moment. She thought of Vinny, and his proposal for them to help the cops bring Rodriguez down. That conversation was for another day.
*
Cal and Tahir were playing pool in the public bar of the Norseman up on Maryhill Road, which allowed them in despite them being under eighteen. The pub was owned by the Caseys, but big Paddy O’Hare ran it for them, and it wasn’t the kind of bar the cops would routinely pop into for an age check on the clientele. It was a rough
shop, and most of the customers were either connected to the Casey organisation – working for the various businesses they ran as a front to launder dirty money – or just locals who didn’t want to wander all the way down to the town for a drink. And it was unlikely that any of the shiny, upwardly mobile punters from the city would drop in for a cocktail. Neither would enemies of the Caseys venture in if they had any sense. The beer cellar at the back of the Norseman had been the scene of a few punishment beatings over the years, and one fatal shooting, for people who had grassed to the cops. Much as Cal and Tahir liked to go out on the town if they had a weekend off, this was the place they hung out during the week. It was close to the tenement flat Tahir shared with a couple of other immigrants. Plus, they felt a bit safer there, because the shit they’d been involved in in getting the Kane boy away from the kidnappers had made them feel a bit exposed. But tonight they were both a little restless, because they had stepped out of line when Jack had expressly told them not to.
Cal chalked the tip of his cue as Tahir leaned over the table to take the shot. Then, quick as a flash, he stuck the black ball in the pocket and raised his head, a smug look on his face.
‘Game over, my friend.’
Cal looked at his watch. He’d been a bit jumpy all day after he and Tahir had gone up to the flats last night where Tahir’s girlfriend, Elia, lived with her family. After Elia had told Tahir about the thugs using the young girls for sex and selling them in the blocks of flats to men, they had told Jack about it, and he said they had to wait until things died down after the last few days, and they would do something about it. But the previous night, when they’d gone up to see if Elia was all right, they’d seen her getting out of a car driven by a man. When Tahir confronted her, she broke down in tears, and told him the thugs had been around again and they’d threatened to firebomb their houses if they didn’t play the game. Tahir dragged the driver out of the car and started beating the shit out of him. Cal was waiting for a mob to appear at any moment but they didn’t. It was then that Tahir pulled out his gun and shot the guy in both kneecaps, leaving him screeching in agony. Elia, hysterical, ran off towards her house, and Cal dragged Tahir away and they ran like hell back to the main road and jumped into a black hackney cab, then headed to the city.
‘What the fuck did you do that for?’ Cal rasped to him when they got into the car. ‘There will be all sorts of shit flying now. Fucking hell, Tahir. Jack told us to hang fire.’
Tahir’s face was white with rage, but he kept his voice low. ‘Did you not hear what she said? They are selling the little girls to every pervert who comes around. I told you. I have to stop it.’
‘But Jack said—’
‘I couldn’t wait for Jack, Cal. Not when I heard her. Not when I see she gets out of the car with some . . . with some bastard who has touched her. Raped her.’
Cal had watched as his friend shook his head and stared out of the side window, tears of anger in his eyes.
They hadn’t told Jack what happened, and hoped it would go away. But Cal knew deep down there would be consequences. As they were pulling on their jackets to leave the Norseman, Tahir’s mobile rang and he pushed it to his ear. Cal knew by the look on his face that it was trouble.
‘Wait!’ Tahir was saying. ‘Slow down. Just tell me, Elia. What happened? Who is there now? What?’
Then his phone seemed to go dead and he looked at Cal, his face a mix of rage and panic.
‘It is Elia. These bastards have her. They said to come and get her. They said they want to talk to me. Fuck, Cal!’
‘Hold on, Tahir,’ Cal said. ‘We can’t just go up there. They’ll fucking shoot us! We can’t!’
‘We have to, Cal! They have taken her. They will harm her. Maybe they will be raping her – all of them.’
His voice was raised and Cal glanced over his shoulder to where big Paddy behind the bar was watching them intently. A couple of other punters at the bar looked at them, then at Paddy.
‘You all right, lads? Is there a problem?’
‘No,’ Cal said. ‘It’s all right, man.’
But by the time he turned around, Tahir was already out of the door. He glanced again at Paddy, then ran after him.
As he got outside, he saw Tahir opening the rear door of a taxi that had just let someone out.
‘Wait for me,’ Cal said, as he jumped in beside him. ‘Fucking hell, Tahir! This is crazy!’
Tahir didn’t answer. He stared straight ahead, and Cal could see the driver give them a look in the rear-view mirror.
‘Keppochill Road, mate,’ Tahir said. ‘Can you hurry?’
Cal felt his mouth go dry with fear. The last time he’d been this scared was in the middle of the shoot-out to get little Finbar Kane away. But he had had Jake Cahill covering his back then, and he was also armed. He’d felt safe and secure with a gun in his hand. This time he had nothing in his pocket but a few quid and his mobile. He wanted to phone Jack, but he knew if he did there would be serious consequences for disobeying an order. From the corner of his eye, he could see Tahir lift up his fleece, and the glint of the pistol in his waistband. This was not going to end well, whatever happened. The taxi pulled up close to the flats, and Tahir handed the driver a tenner. They didn’t even wait for the change as they jumped out.
‘So what now, Tahir? We don’t even know where they are.’
Tahir was already bringing up Elia’s number into the mobile.
‘We call her. Maybe they’ll answer.’
‘Then what? They tell us to come and meet them? Jesus! What do you think is going to happen then, Tahir?’
Tahir glared at him. ‘Someone is going to die tonight. But it won’t be us.’
‘Christ almighty!’ Cal said.
Then he heard Tahir speak. ‘Is okay, is okay,’ his voice consoling. ‘I’m coming. Let me speak to the prick.’
Tahir glanced at Cal whose bowels were churning. Jesus! He didn’t even have a knife. He glanced around him, waiting for some mob to jump out of the shadows and batter them to death. He couldn’t even see a brick or a bottle he could pick up for protection.
‘I am here. Tell me where you are. What you want? Let her go. I give you what you want. Is it money? I have money.’
Cal stood close to him and he could hear the voice on the other side of the phone mocking him.
‘You have money, you wee cunt? You got fifty grand? Then bring it now.’
‘I haven’t got the money now,’ Tahir said. ‘But I can get it.’
Cal’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He spread his hands and mouthed, ‘What the fuck!’
He glanced over Tahir’s shoulder, and in the darkness of the dimly lit street saw a row of lock-up garages, one of which had its door pulled up. Out of it piled at least half a dozen thugs, armed with baseball bats and sticks. And they were striding towards them. He looked at Tahir whose face was chalk white, but eyes wild with rage.
‘Shit, Tahir!’
‘Let her go,’ Tahir said again into the phone. ‘I’ll get the money for you.’
But there was no voice at the other end. Just the sound of people running towards them, roaring, tribal. And Cal stood frozen with fear. Then he saw Tahir take out his gun. Christ! He thought of his mum. Then a shot rang out and one of the men heading towards them fell to the ground. But it didn’t stop the others rampaging towards them. Tahir fired again, and another was hit, but by this time they were upon them, and Cal braced himself as two burly thugs came at him with a baseball bat. He felt the wind go out of him as one of them hit him in the stomach, then as he bent over, he could feel the force of two bats on his back.
‘Tahir! Oh fuck!’
He was losing consciousness, as boots and bats laid into him on the ground. But as he opened one eye, he saw Tahir being dragged away, and one of the thugs had his gun. He curled into a ball, pretending to be unconscious or dead, as the boots rained on him, and then they stopped. He watched, barely conscious, and through blood and blurred vis
ion he saw the naked figure of Elia being thrown out of the garage. As she stumbled and fell to the ground, one of the thugs poured petrol from a can over her. Tahir was being dragged, his face bloody and beaten, towards her. They were going to die tonight. All three of them, Cal thought.
‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ he whispered as he lay, tears in his eyes, waiting for the onslaught.
Then, suddenly, there came the screech of tyres. Cal eased himself up on his elbow, and he saw two four-by-fours scream to a halt and four guys jump out of each of them. Then the shots started. What the fuck! Some kind of assassination squad, he thought. Then he saw one, two, three of the thugs fall as they were hit by gunfire. Then another. Then the rest of them scamper for cover. He crawled over and got onto all fours, then tried to get to his feet. But the pain was agony and he spat blood. Then he saw one of the guys coming towards him. It was Archie, one of the Casey crew. Was it Archie? He wasn’t sure and thought he was going to pass out. He felt his arm on him.
‘You all right, Cal? Can you stand up? The cavalry’s here.’ He grinned.
Cal got up on shaky legs. He looked at Archie, bewildered.
‘Big Paddy phoned Jack.’ He shook his head. ‘If you think this is trouble, wait till big Jack gets his fucking hands on you.’ He put his arm around him and supported him as Cal staggered alongside him.