by Kerry Kaya
He adjusted their little coats. The thin material would offer no protection from the bitter cold wind and rain. He stopped and looked back toward Tracey’s front door. He was in half a mind to knock there and see if they had hats, gloves and scarves they could put on. Instinctively, he knew they wouldn’t. Tracey wasn’t the type of parent who would have seen buying her kids thick coats for protection against the winter elements as a necessity. How could people like Tracey and his dad even call themselves parents?
He swiped away the tears that had begun to glisten his eyes, before they slipped down his cheeks. The unfairness of their lives made him want to cry once again. More than anything, he didn’t want the boys to see him upset. He didn’t want to scare them.
“Don’t cry, Matty,” Sam, the eldest of the two boys, said, his brown eyes wide with innocence. “We’ll be okay. We’ve got you to look after us, haven’t we, Jack?” Jack nodded his head. They liked Matty. He was always nice to them. Much nicer than their mum was.
Matty sobbed harder. Sam’s words broke his heart into a million little pieces. When he felt their arms go around him, he pulled them closer. He only wished he had enough money, so they could run away. He would give anything to be able to jump on a train with the two boys, to get as far away as they possibly could, from the horrors of a parent who didn’t care about what happened to them.
All three of them were victims. They’d been let down by the one system that should have been protecting them. If they did run away, then wherever they ended up, Matty would make sure the boys were looked after. No one would ever hurt them, not with him around to protect them. One day, they would really do it, he vowed. They had to. He’d already promised the boys they would.
* * *
Lee Hart couldn’t resist sneaking into the club to watch Moray Garner’s two sons as they worked. He’d supplied the pills to one of them earlier that day, when he’d been in The Spotted Dog, in Barking. He’d told the lad he was a supplier with connections in Amsterdam, and that there was plenty more where they came from. Aaron, he’d said his name was, cocky little bastard, he was and all, just like his father had been at the same age.
He drank deeply from his pint of lager, watching both boys over the rim of his glass. From his position, he could see everything that went on, and his beady little eyes missed nothing.
In actual fact, he couldn’t believe how easily the boy had fallen for it. They say money talks, and he’d grabbed the boy’s attention, by telling him how much profit there was to be made from the little white pills. Of course, the boy didn’t have that kind of cash to hand, so Lee kindly let him have them on tic. For anyone with a bit of savvy, that would have rang alarm bells, but not this little prick. All he was thinking about was the easy cash.
Lee kicked out his legs in front of him, making himself comfortable. Moray Garner’s cozy little world was about to shatter into pieces, right in front of his very eyes. He put his head down as he sniggered. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. It was just a shame he wouldn’t be there to see Garner’s face when it happened. That really would have been the icing on the cake.
* * *
Sipping on a mug of coffee, Ronnie Dellow stifled a yawn. This case had him working flat out. He couldn’t make head, nor tale of it. Not one iota of it made sense. Why would a respectable law student end up murdered and half buried on a scrap of wasteland?
There was no forensic evidence at all, not even a damn fingerprint, no eye witnesses, and no leads. Whoever was responsible, obviously knew what they were doing.
Ronnie rubbed at his tired eyes. It was time to call it a night. Glancing across to Josie, he spoke. “How are you getting on with the shooting? Have you dug anything up? Any connection to our victim?”
“Not that I can tell, guv,” she said and gave him a quick rundown. “Lewis Hart, brought up in care, shunted from one foster home to another, was released from the local authority at age sixteen. That’s where the trail goes cold.”
“What was he in care for?”
“Neglect, physical abuse, the list goes on. Mother was a crack addict, now deceased, OD’d.”
“Father?”
“I’m still trying to track him down. There’s no mention of him in the social services reports.”
Ronnie sighed. “Poor kid didn’t stand a chance, did he? Come on, time to head home. Enough for tonight.”
“Nope, he really didn’t stand a chance.” She felt sorry for the boy. Kids like Lewis were the hardest cases for her to deal with. She would never say it out loud, what with all of the political correctness and human rights activists out there, but if it was left to her, anyone who harmed a child, would be lined up against the wall and shot. She grabbed up her coat. “See you in the morning, guv. Night.”
“Night.” Ronnie took one last glance at his computer screen, before switching it off. He couldn’t shrug off the feeling that there was so much more to this case than met the eye. As of tomorrow, he would start again, and go right back to the beginning and piece everything together. There was more to come. He could feel it in his bones, and his hunches had never let him down before.
* * *
“See, what did I tell you? We’re fucking raking it in.” Aaron was grinning like a Cheshire cat at the almost five-hundred quid they’d made in one night. If they carried on at this rate, then by the end of the week, they would have made thousands.
They were sitting in Aaron’s car, and Colm watched, as his brother counted out the cash. “What if it it’s all on camera, though? You do realise there’s CCTV in there, don’t you?”
“And you know dad’s not going to sift through hours of CCTV, is he? He’d have no reason to. When have you ever known him to do that, eh? C’mon, stop putting a downer on it. We’re fast on our way to becoming rich, bruv.”
“I think you should give the bloke the money from what we’ve already sold, and then give him back the rest of the pills. I’m telling you, Aaron, there’s something fishy about all of this.” Colm couldn’t shake off the feeling that all of this was dodgy, and he didn’t mean the illegal side of selling drugs. The fact that his brother had got the pills off of some random geezer in a pub, didn’t sit right with him. What was that saying their dad had always said to them when they were young? Oh yeah, that was it. “Trust no one. Even the devil himself was an angel once.”
Blinded by the cash he was looking to earn, Aaron ignored his brother. Colm had always been cautious. It was in his nature. He took after their mum in that respect. She always found a negative in everything, too. Even if he won the lottery, she would find something bad to say about it. He could hear her voice now: “It’s too much money, Aaron. It’ll turn your head.” He wanted his head turned, though. That was the problem. He wanted respect, and he wanted people to come to him to buy their drugs. He wanted a reputation of his own, rather than just being Moray Garner’s son.
“Aaron, are you even listening to me? We should give the pills back.”
Aaron punched his brother on the arm. “I’m keeping them. You’re either with me or against me, Colm, but when I get rich and you’re still working the doors for dad, earning peanuts, don’t come running to me. It’ll be too late.”
Colm sighed. “I’m with you, bruv. I just don’t like it, that’s all.”
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to like all of that lovely dough we’re gonna make,” Aaron grinned.
* * *
“They’re taking the fucking piss now.” Moray was furious. “That’s the third attempted takeover this week. How many more are we going to let slide, before we take action?”
“We can’t take action. We’re stretched as it is. Where are we meant to get the muscle from? If we take them from the doors, then we’re leaving the venues wide open. It’s a vicious circle, Moray. We either just keep fighting them off, or we recruit more men, and that actually is something I was meant to talk to you about. One of Freddie’s men came to me looking for work. He’s getting on in years,
but still handy. So he was hoping we might have something a bit quieter for him. I was thinking of The Golden Lion, in Stratford. You know the lads always complain if we send them there.”
“Can you trust him?” Danny was right, every man on their payroll was accounted for. Maybe it was time they recruited a few more heavies, and have them floating around the venues, in case of trouble.
“Yeah, I trust him.”
“Okay, well send him to The Golden Lion then. That’ll save a few arguments when we allocate the doors.”
“I’ll give him a call tomorrow, and let him know when to start.”
“You know this George Christos, don’t you?” Moray asked, changing the subject.
“I’ve dealt with him, yeah,” Danny said, sitting forward in his seat. “I arranged the meeting between him and Freddie. Why, what are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering if it’s worth us arranging a meeting with him.” Now that they were pretty certain Lee wasn’t going to talk, Moray could see no risk in them meeting with George Christos.
Danny blew out his cheeks and flopped backwards in his seat. “It took a lot of negotiating to get him to agree to that meeting. He’s hard to get close to. You have to go through his brother first.”
“But it’s a possibility. He might agree to meet us.”
“Maybe, I couldn’t really say, mate. At the end of the day, there’s a lot of history between him and Freddie. I think that’s what swayed him in the end,” Danny answered, as he rubbed his hand across his jaw.
Moray thought through Danny’s words. “In Christos’s eyes, he might think of it as having a lot of history with you, too, then. You stayed with Freddie’s firm for a lot of years after I left. He would see you as being one of Freddie’s lot still, wouldn’t he? More so than he would me?”
“Maybe.”
“What we need, is something we can barter with.” Moray chewed on the inside of his cheek, as he tried to think of something, anything, they could use to get George Christos to meet with them.
“I think I might actually have something we can use as a bargaining tool. There’s some information I know of that would be of an interest to them.” Danny was pretty certain the information he had would get their attention. The problem he had, was if he would be able disclose it, without bringing risk to himself. If he knew the Greeks as well as he thought he did, then he had a feeling Christos would snap up the chance to hear what he had to say. He knew if he were in their shoes, then he would. “We need to get that meeting first. That’s gonna be the tricky part. As I said, he’s hard to get close to.”
“Can I leave it with you then, to arrange a meeting with just you, me and Christos present?”
“I’ll do my best, mate.” Danny wasn’t particularly hopeful. Christos rarely travelled anywhere alone.
* * *
“We have them worried,” George Christos grinned widely. “Your plan has obviously unnerved them, Alexandros. Well done for thinking it up.”
Alexandros took the compliment. It was rare for George to hand out any form of praise. “So, what shall I tell him?”
“Tell him no, there will be no meeting. The doors are not negotiable. For Adam and Nico. We will take them over.”
“Maybe we should hear them out, and listen to what they have to say. McKay said he has information that would be of particular interest to us,” Alexandros answered wearily.
He was tired, and growing older. All he wanted, was a quiet life. He and his wife had even talked about returning home to Greece to retire. He wanted to grow lemons and to feel the sun on his back once again. In fact, he’d already decided, once they had their revenge for his brother’s and nephew’s deaths, then he would sell up and leave England.
“This was your plan. Are you having doubts that we can’t pull it off?” George eyed his brother suspiciously.
Alexandros shook his head. “I’m going home, George. I want all of this tied up, so I’m free to leave. Enough blood has been spilt … Adam senior, Nico, both of them dead. They would still be here, if we hadn’t wanted to make our family the most feared in London.”
“We have waited almost twenty years for this day to come, and now you want to leave?” George was astounded.
“Twenty years ago, we were younger, stronger and full of hate for Freddie Smith and his firm. Now, we are old, George. Look how your own health has suffered. Let us put it to rest. Arrange the meeting, and negotiate for our family to live in peace. We’ve already lost Adam, by forcing him to do things he didn’t want to do. And he lost a father and cousin, because of this war. Our sister lost a son. Don’t allow them to lose anyone else, because of us and our need for power.”
“But …”
“Do the right thing,” Alexandros urged. “Swallow your pride, brother, and let me go home, knowing we did the right thing for our family.”
George reluctantly nodded his head. He knew if he didn’t agree, then he would lose his last remaining brother, and Alexandros was right. His own health was suffering. Still, the panic attacks plagued him. He had a feeling they always would. “Arrange the meeting then, and we will put our affairs to bed.”
* * *
Matty was in a lot of trouble. Freddie was definitely going to kill him over this. Instead of taking the boys up to London, so he could scout for runaways, as he’d been ordered to do, Matty had hid with them in McDonald’s. Sitting in a corner booth, out of sight from the main doors, he’d fed the boys cheeseburgers, fries and strawberry milkshakes. To see their little faces light up at their first trip to the fast food restaurant, had made the trouble he was in now, worthwhile.
He’d taken the boys home, just before midnight, satisfied that their little bellies were full for once. They’d even made him laugh, by referring to the restaurant as Donald’s, instead of its full name, and had told him it was the best night they’d ever had. He recalled smiling sadly when they had said that. The fact that hiding out with him, eating burgers, was one of their happiest memories, said a lot about their home life with Tracey.
He’d then crept around to his gran’s house, and let himself in through the dodgy bathroom window. He’d been on at his gran for months, to get onto the council to get the latch fixed. Luckily for him, she must have forgotten. He’d needed somewhere to kip, and he knew without a doubt, he couldn’t go to his own home. That was the first place Freddie would have gone to search for him.
He’d resigned himself to the fact that he was going to die. In fact, he’d known this day had been coming for a long time. That afternoon, he’d said goodbye to his gran. He’d hugged her tight, knowing this was the last time he would ever see her. His gran had been the only woman who’d ever been kind to him, and for that alone, he loved her.
He stood outside The Hope Public House, just waiting. He knew it wouldn’t take Freddie long to find him. And he wouldn’t run away, not this time. He was going to stop being a coward. He was going to do what he should have done a long time ago. He was going to break away from Freddie and his firm. In fact, death would be a welcome release for him—a release from all of the pain and torment he’d suffered in his short life.
He had just one last thing to say to the man he despised, and that was, if he chose to kill him, then he would never find out who it really was, who’d tried to shoot and kill him, that fateful day in Christos’s restaurant. No matter what Freddie did to him, and he knew, instinctively, it would be harsh and painful, he would take the secret to his grave.
He was going to leave the ball in Freddie’s court. If he let him live and get away, then he would tell him who was responsible for the shooting. Or he could choose to kill him, and then he would never know.
Chapter 17
Sophie Nolan was excited. She’d taken extra care with her outfit for this evening. She needed to make a good impression with Moray’s sons, not to mention his best mate, Danny.
They were going to Ritzy’s Nightclub for the evening, and Moray had told her that the VIP section was exclusively the
irs for the night. His boys would be working, though, so she would only see them at fleeting intervals, but Danny had the night off. She couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, too. What if they didn’t like her? Even though Moray had told her they would all love her, she couldn’t help but feel worried. Tonight was a big night for them as a couple. It could make or break their relationship.
She sprayed a light mist of perfume over her. It was an expensive fragrance and Moray had bought it for her as a gift. She knew he loved the scent as much as she did. She had butterflies in her tummy. Just be you, she told herself, as she studied her reflection in the mirror. Other than that, there really wasn’t much else she could do.
* * *
Moray had warned Danny, over and over, to be on his best behaviour. In the end, Danny had felt like a little kid about to go and meet the queen.
“I’m gonna behave. Stop worrying,” Danny laughed. “I’ll even bow down to her, and keep schtum the whole night, if that’ll stop you from worrying.”
“See, you’re already starting.”
“What have I done now?” Danny couldn’t help but burst out laughing. This woman had obviously got underneath Moray’s skin.
“Just be yourself, but a nice, calm, friendly and polite version of yourself.”
“Give over, Moray, fucking hell. What do you take me for? And before you even say it, I’ll mind my language in front of her, too.” There was a hint of humour in his voice, and Moray couldn’t help but laugh along.
“Sorry, mate. I just want this to be perfect for her, that’s all.”