A Good Day For The Crows
Now a paperback and in the Kindle store
©? 2020. SAMUEL K PERKINS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
EspyFiction/Kaspapublications19
UK Registered 2020
For Kellie my lovely partner. My first book is dedicated to you. Thank you for your loving support, your encouragement and inspiration. I love you.
Thanks to Alex 'Xandir' Bird for help with the illustrations.
A Good Day
For The Crows
BY SAMUEL K PERKINS
.
PROLOGUE
The decision had already been made, and today was the day it was supposed to be all over. One final progression in a movement destined for no further evolution. One last big send off to the fortunate cocksuckers who worked so hard.
People were honoured to have their names on the guest list. All trustees. Friends of friends. Loyal employees would gather round, partying, drinking and mingling with each other all night. Celebrating each other's successes in a joined union, and for no other reason than showing their appreciation for being part of it.
An experience most people never get the chance to describe and often in life, you come across scenario's that are easier to experience than they are to explain.
It was the day of the big night, and someone had to be told exactly how it is. When two families become one without a ceremony, and the members already knew what side they were on. Their own side. Was it really a case of “their own side,” or your own side, or was it her side?
Tonight's plan had changed, and some people might not approve of the new arrangements. Honour amongst friends was now just a dim light waiting for a blackout. When there in that darkness, you're all too aware that anything can happen.
It all came down to business, it wasn't personal, just business, and in this business, the bottom line is, people were supposed to listen, people weren't used to other people not listening, so if you were told “it's what it is,” you had three choices.
You knew this was real, so you either bought yourself time, bought yourself more time or you bought yourself a little more time. On purchasing yourself one of these time durations you were actually investing in how much longer you're going to extend your life span, and therein, lies the true dilemma. It all rested on how you choose to go about it.
Everyone knows, if you're in this situation then opting for option one was never a sensible step, as it would make you a hell of a lot more enemies you didn't need. So thinking about fighting back wouldn't only start something you could never finish, but merely increase the trouble you were already in.
Which, possibly, got you considering going home to the wife and having her talk you into option two. Security. Bodyguards. Men of influence. Protection for everyone while you arrange a way to settle the issue in order to have the contract against you lifted.
If you were smart, you would make sure you had the wheels already in motion for this by the time you got home, to avoid further contest and maybe maintain the facade of having this under control.
First you would have to make a phone call and get some bodies around you right away, and if not instantly then definitely before nightfall. A few guys would be paid to stop some other guys from getting near you while you tried to straighten out what ever shit you had to straighten out, and more guys would be with your family too, because you knew they would be going after them if they couldn't get to you. This wasn't any peace mission for the guys who were going to come pay you a visit.
Once guarded, you were ready to respectfully go to the people who sent you the message, courteously, and talk with them personally in order to work the problem out.
As long as they didn't shut you down first.
You just had to work out what you were going to say, and If things couldn't be resolved that way, then the situation you were in was too serious. Either way, you were fucked and that left you with one final choice, and that was running. Running and hiding.
What happens if the message is skipped and you weren't told "it's what it is" People were about to find out the consequence for that lack of consideration for others. There was little room for rash decisions in this game.
Sometimes, letting go is as easy as a casual gesture, and as simple as releasing a fire lantern off into the night sky. A symbol of something you brought with you, that you didn't want to return with. Like casting sentimental possessions into the log fire to free yourself of emotions and memories you no longer wish to keep. Especially when those memories become a burden to live with. Ultimately, you have to sacrifice the things that hold you back, because no one wants any dead leaves clinging on to their branches. Usually, a decent shake off has them falling away, though one things for certain, - unlike dead leaves - people disguise themselves well.
As do lies.
Never the less, the truth always reveals itself sooner or later.
That's the rules.
And when you forget to follow your rules, you might as well choose to not trust your own instinct or intuition and if that happens you could misjudge what's true and what's false or what's real and what's not.
This was exactly how people were feeling. Once the inter'fear'ence was removed, some intuition was at an extremely high rate between deep love to the point of tears and high anticipation. Minds were extremely excited and powered up.
This was real.
People could actually now comprehend why yesterday was likely to be the greatest time on earth. Stay calm and centred. What was about to unfold was going to be fantastic in the end.
"The birth of our creation is
the chaos of our genius."
-Chapter One-
"So, where are you going? Anywhere nice?," the European cab driver said to his passenger, almost coughing and expecting some small talk.
"Good day for travelling huh?"
"Just drive," ordered the passenger in the back seat.
"Yeah sure," he said, looking ahead at the busy motorway and listening to Get Away, The final track on Ocean Colour Scenes album, Moseley Shoals, and with Simon Fowler's guitar fading out, the song finished leaving both men in silence.
Comfortably and carefree the driver switched over to the radio. A news reporter was giving a general update about Government bailouts.
"Can you believe the fucking actions of these people?" the driver asked, in response to the news reader, while taking his eyes off the road to look behind him at his passenger.
"Not really, and keep your eyes on the road," the passenger replied, his voice in a low monotone.
"Fucking criminals if you ask me, and if you want the truth, he should refuse bailout,"- the cab driver commented, while switching gear,
-"rewarding failure, lining their own pock-" he was broken off from finishing his sentence, slamming his foot down hard on the brake pedal of his black Volkswagen Passat.
In front, a dark midnight blue Nissan Jeep quickly came to a stop, causing alarm to the other road users who were travelling along the contraflow system towards their directed junctions that day.
The Jeeps breaks, squeezed, and by the sound of them, in need of fluid, screeched and squeaked from the friction of the brake pads clamping against the four metal wheel callipers. The Jeeps rear rose in the air like a whale surfacing to take a breath.
"Fucking asshole," screamed the driver, indicating left and shaking his head back and forth between both the left hand mirror and the rear mirror.
He checked the road was clear behind him, before swerving into the adjacent lane and picking up speed to overtake the Nissan.
"He's gonna cause a fucking accident sooner or later, I see it all the times, on roads. Always there is a prick trying to kill someone innocent you know? With their crazy driving,"- he said, in a thick Polish accent, as he looked into his middle rear-view mirror at his bearded, hard-faced passenger, -"not my fault if he causes accident, No?" asked the driver.
The passengers gimlet eyes were piercing into the reflection of the driver in the mirror.
"Just drive," repeated the passenger.
The man in the back seat was Frankie Garner. Frankie was thinking to himself that the chatty cabby should know the law on road accidents and it would be the cabbies fault if he was go into the back of someone else.
"Er, lovely start to the week, don't you think? A perfect Monday morning,"- the driver commented while taking his hand off the wheel to scratch his head, -"um, we should be arriving at Stansted in the next half an hour, depending on the traffic, it's been bumper to bumper all morning"- the driver said, scratching his head again -"thinking I'll take the M11, then Junction 8a. What do you think?" he asked his passenger.
"Just drive to the fucking airport and don't stop," said Frankie in the same monotone voice that was both direct and consistent with the way he feeling that day.
The driver looked over his shoulder momentarily at the guy in his back seat, when again, Frankie told him to keep his eyes on the road.
The day was warm. A bright summer Monday morning and pretty humid for early July. Frankie looked down at the smart phone in his hand. He was checking the time to make sure his punctuality wasn't tested by the busy road that morning. Frankie wouldn't let a busy road effect his time keeping, not today.
Not any day.
Being a serious, unassuming man, he wouldn't allow anything to keep him from being on time.
He looked out of the right side window and into the sky where a passenger plane was in flight and coming in, lowering towards the airport runway, preparing to land and he exhaled a sigh of acceptance, satisfied in the knowledge that he wasn't going to be late.
"Look at that plane," the driver whispered quietly, “be great to be leaving on one of th-" again he was cut short, slamming his foot hard on the brakes, but this time he drove into the back of the big truck in front and the truck had stopped.
The driver of the truck had been slowing down at the same time the cab driver had taken his eyes off the road for a third time to look up at the same plane Frankie had been looking at, but hadn't noticed the trucks brake lights, and so went up the trucks ass as a result of his possible incompetence. A small collision but still a collision never the less.
A crash with enough impact that led both drivers out their vehicles, checking the damages and exchanging details which left Frankie in the car sighing, displeased, and this time dissatisfied because the chance was now he was indeed going to be late.
A schedule so tight there was no room for error, and this fucking numskull Polak had thrown a big fucking spanner in that work of operation so bad, that Frankie had just about lost his calm.
His temper was now a red bull, hot and raging, he disembarked the Passat, stepping out 6'1" in height and headed towards the driver's like they were the red rags that had been waved in front of him, and clinging onto his back was a very uncomfortable matador that needed bucking off.
"Fucking fool," he whispered to himself as he was stopped in his tracks. He had noticed a black Sedan in the traffic. Frankie recognised the driver and they were looking at each other as Frankie approached the car.
The driver's side window was rolled down low and he is had stuck his bald head out in order to get a closer look at the accident he had just seen happen.
"Hey, Malone," said Frankie, "how's things? did you see this shit happen?" he asked.
"Stupid," said Malone, "looks like a bad time to not be driving yourself. I never trust someone else driving me around," Malone chuckled, looking up at Frankie who had now settled his lower right arm on the roof above Malone's driver's door.
"I told him to watch the road, the prick, now he's got us all in a jam," said Frankie.
"Yeah right, too early in the day for this, but if it's going to happen, then I guess it's best to get it out the way early huh, but anyway Frank, long time no speak," Malone said, smiling, as Frankie walked around to the passenger's side and got inside the car.
"Heard you been keeping it down man, the Webber family and the rest of the unit okay?" asked Frankie, who was honestly curious about how the guys family had been.
"Everyone's ok, Frank, yeah been keeping low, since..."- Malone paused for a second, -"ah, shit, never mind. How's the boss?" he asked, changing the subject.
The boss he was referring to wasn't Malone's boss, it was Frankie's long term employer and good friend, Joe 'Big Joe' Eagle.
Some people might question how comfortably a long term based business commitment with an old trusted friend could really last, but for Big Joe and Frankie, their relationship had spanned many years and counting.
The business worked, and did well by the employees having a loyal history with their employer, and vice versa.
Big Joe and Malone shared the same name, and in the past, some employees and associates of both men had gotten the two Joe's confused.
"Coincidence you should ask,"- Frankie said, while looking passed Malone, and out the driver's side window, to see what was happening with the accident, -"he asked if I could call you today, so it's another coincidence bumping into you here too. Fuck maybe that prick driver's some sort of psychic and crashed right here in front of you to save me making a fucking phone call,"- Frankie said, facetiously, and grinning for a second while looking at his friend.
-"Boss wanted me to tell you to bring everyone to his estate later tonight, you'll come along right? I mean sorry for the short notice and I don't mean it to sound like you have too, but we know you're gonna want to see Zed, and so will Lisa, those two are good for each ot-"
"Wait, Zed's out?" asked Malone, cutting Frankie off.
Frankie looked at him gently, and then looked back across the road to see what progress the cab driver was making with the owner of the truck. Then he looked back at Malone.
"Yeah, I'm on my way to the airport now. Kid's coming in early, fresh faced and with a brand new taste for Chinese cuisine," said Frankie almost laughing.
"I doubt it's much better than the stuff they shaft us here with," said Malone.
"It's hard labour," Frankie replied.
"So how did it come to you fetching him today Frank? Because me and Caroline haven't heard anything. What about Lisa?"
"Lisa's been working a lot over at the casino," said Frankie.
"Does she know he's back?"
"Lisa knows. Um, the boss has some errands he wants Zed to take care off. You know, tying up some loose ends sort of thing. But he doesn't want to cut you and your people out."
Malone went to speak when the cab driver called over to Frankie, letting him know they could continue on.
"Frankie, I'd take you, but I have to get over to a client in twenty minutes man."
"No drama pal. Listen, everything will be explained later. I'll see you there, don't miss it, and bring everyone. Hell, I even think Hernandez is coming, probably bringing with him those two meatballs that follow him around."
Both men laughed and shook hands, then Frankie turned and made his way over to the taxi. He opened the back door and got inside where the cab driver was waiting behind the wheel to offer his apologies for the delay.
"Sorry about that," said the driver.
Frankie glared at the man sourly. "Ok, prick, drive. Let's be hasty and quiet. I ain't got the time for this. Shit, I know how you guys like to talk your balls off, then charge for the conversation later,"- Frankie said, turning his head back towards Joe, then away again, facing front as the taxi pulled away resuming their course.
-"Eyes on the road now," said Frankie, seriously.
He wasn't in the mood for any further mistakes that day.
-Chapter Two-
Joe 'Malone' Webber
The man in the black Sedan was Joe 'Malone' Webber. He owned a few bookies and some classy pawn brokers. More up town than your average run-of-the-mill, pawn-your-t.v-for-a-few-quid-crack-stop-to-afford-your-next-fix, type of pawn shop. He had the creme de la creme of venues and locations and with even better clients, and Malone's purchases were nothing but quality top gear.
Even middle class honest johns in need of a pay day loan for an outstanding bill didn't use Malone's establishments. No, Joe Webbers places were for the more privileged and money comfortable.
People who happened to have the things that most others couldn't, and more importantly, wanting to find buyers for the very valuable rarities they might have in their possessions. Expensive jewellery, gold and diamond crested watches or brand name handbags and clothing might get a look at, however, rare antiques, sports cars and vintage specialties were more of what Malone was really interested in.
For a long time his merchandise had carried a premium price tag, remained some of the most sought-after among buyers, and it had kept a consistent number of sales as, his clients, were at the pinnacle of high-end home ownership within the capital.
He had celebrities and high rolling business executives, property investors,
professors, Hoodlums, politicians, stars and other wealthy influential affiliates from all across London's most expensive and luxurious boroughs.
These prestigious locations included Kensington, Chelsea, Belgravia and even higher echelons of the market.
Malone was more shorter in stature than Frankie, he was like a pit bull off the leash and very unpredictable.
He ran a small group of high interest cash loaners and launderers who had started working for him over the years and a couple of his relatives and employees had bonded together through blood and marriage.
Loan sharks on one hand and family on the other, which made his business just as important and personal to him as the next Joe, though for slightly different reasons.
Malone was married to a woman called Caroline Webber, who had moved in with her husband and his crew along with her daughter Margaret, who subsequently had married Dwayne, an employee of Malone's.
Some people joked that it was actually Caroline who wore the trousers, but if you knew Malone and Caroline personally, then you knew that Caroline and Malone equally represented the families business, and although Caroline was very much a calculative, clever woman, who indeed made wise moves, Malone just enjoyed to play those moves out. He liked doing what his wife thought was best.
Malone had a son everyone had begun calling 'Junior' a few years before. Not because he was Malone's son but because he looked identical to how his dad had looked thirty years previous.
If Malone was to wake up tomorrow thirty years younger, then him and his son could be mistaken for twins.
Junior.
Malone never really understood it.
What he did understand was, names might just be names but in certain businesses and places, some names you just don't fuck with, which made his nickname even more clear to people when they heard it.
Back in the day he had been one of those Bugsy type characters who dressed like the Italian Mafia figures you see in the movies, and his standards and etiquettes were just as similar. Organised crime and murder were two things Malone had never been a stranger to. In fact familiarity breeding contempt was a sentiment he held for both these days.
Dressing in expensive suits, his fashion sense had never really changed. Him and his boys would dress in their tailored apparel as young men and head out individually on jobs that were usually hits, paid for up front, by someone that needed someone else to disappear, and Malone always worked alone.
In those days Malone was like a young Bugsy, feared and revered, and like those small kids playing an adult roll as gangsters in a 1950s style era, it had quickly gotten him the same title as the main guy, 'Malone', and it was a fitting description of the man, and just like his attire did, the name suited the man well.
#
Recently Malone had been offered the rare opportunity to buy an old vintage automobile and he had told the owner to drive the car down to one of his more fancy pawn shops, Loaned Luxury's. The owner of the vehicle had told Malone the car was special, and that it had been in his family since the 1960's. The owner was unsure of his asking price, although he did know the value of the vehicle and had suggested that Malone approach this opportunity with an open mind.
Malone was used to the hard sell of a potential seller, that was Malone's business, as he also preferred to be severe when he went into negotiations before transactions of his own.
The owner turned up in the driver's seat of a customised dark blue, 63' Lincoln Continental convertible with white and red leather interior and in pristine condition with only 1008 miles on the clock. Malone had bought and sold many vintage muscle cars being in the business he was in. He had had Pontiac Firebirds and Cadillac’s to Mustangs, he even thought himself to be lucky enough to have gotten his hands on an Australian Pursuit Special Ford Falcon and then a classic red 1957, Plymouth Fury, but the Lincoln was one car Malone had never had the chance to own, and it brought back memories of old T.V shows and Frank Sinatra.
Unlike most people who remember the Lincoln for being the car on that famous day in history, back in the winter of 63’, when the 35th President of the USA, JFK had been assassinated while riding in the backseat, it was different for Malone. He knew this car as the car with the famous suicide doors, with the back doors that are hinged at the rear rather than the front.
That's how the problem with hitting the rear doors with your feet when examining the back seats after a drive by shooting was eventually solved by the Lincoln engineers. However, if the car was to roll while stood in front of the door, then it would probably kill you. The sort of doors that would open in the same way as originally seen on old horse-drawn carriages, only this was a vehicle that wasn't horse-drawn, this vehicle was horse powered.
With its HP, 430 cubic inch, V8 engine, the Continental was the ultimate car for mobsters back in the 60', and these days it's still a very fancy, very rare automobile, and for a car associated with assassins, organised crime and drive by shootings, there was nothing like cruising in an old Continental to make you feel alive.
So Malone wasn't going to let this car get away so he needed to buy it. He knew purchasing such a vehicle would be a great earner and it just happened that he knew a man who had the right business associates who would be interested, and after a considerable time umming and ahhing, the owners hesitance and indecisiveness wore off. Malone knew the owner wouldn't hold out, and Malone strongly defended his position that was very much to his own advantage when they reached an agreement.
When Malone rang Big Joe and explained that he had purchased a 63' Lincoln that Saturday morning, his friend was impressed and had referred to it as “the worm may have dug in but the early bird gets his success." Big Joe had told him he knew some guys who would definitely be interested in the vehicle, as according to Big Joe, “it’s ideal and certainly compatible with their interests, leave it with me,” and that he would get them on the blower to a potential buyer directly.
And it hadn't taken long.
Big Joe spoke with his contacts to the McBride organisation which was a relatively small self-organising British firm based in East London, that ran a sophisticated and large-scale firearm factory and had been connected with such activities as contract killings, art theft, jewellery and diamond robbery and bookmaking. Big Joe also stretched as far as keeping Malone's name out of the whole thing in order to keep the conversation simple.
The guy did have his uses when it came to such dealings, so when he finally struck a deal for the Lincoln, he had called Malone back to inform him on what he had successfully arranged and to tell him to take the car around to his estate where it could be easily and securely stored right away.
The Lincoln had a buyer and Big Joe made the arrangement for the car to be collected from his estate house in Hendon, that Tuesday at 3.30pm. He had Frankie picking up Zed from the airport Monday morning. Malone was expected to take his name of the insurance and instead put the car in Big Joe's name until the car was sold and then the V5 document would be given to the next owner at the time the car would change hands, and so, that left plenty of free time for a drive to feel the experience of an old classic car in all of its style before locking the car away in Big Joe's garage ready for collection.
There, the Lincoln waits.
Big Joe
Frankie's boss was a tall, muscular, bald man named Joe Eagle. On Joe's chest and crawling up the left side of his neck he had a black and fire orange tattoo of a Phoenix rising from its ashes.
He was a guy who was known by everyone as Big Joe because of his width. A white, rhino skinned, rich and eccentric business man and husband to an ex model almost half his age, named Amy Eagle.
Joe was a proud, wise cracking, hard edged man. His blue eyes had a twinkle that was arrestingly bright with a dashing sense of sex appeal.
Big Joe had a charm about him and his attitude displayed confidence, he looked like he knew himself.
Big Joe began his life born in the Stratford district in the East end of London's Newham. Newham, was a borough consumed by poverty and crime, and for him, time-honoured traditions that he kept with him throughout his life.
He had served in the marines before he had become a big time club owner back in the early 90s and subsequently had bought into the casino business that he ran from his estate house in the expensive upper class part of London's high society.
Other than his business interests, Big Joe had two hobbies he took pride in and enjoyed as much. Exteriorly he was a dedicated and committed West Ham United fan who followed every game, every season and never missed a match. He also bred Dobermans. In his time Big Joe had bred over fifty Doberman Pinschers. He loved football, he loved his Dobermans and he enjoyed being outdoors.
Yes, Big Joe was a proud man, he respected his position, and he did take the legality of his business very seriously, however, casinos have a way of bringing in gangsters and that in turn brought a grey area in on the side of Big Joe's lawful operations and Joe being Joe took pride, and was very particular about his criminal pursuits also that made him not a only a big man in stature, bigger than Joe Webber was, but a leading big man in the savage face of the criminal underworld too.
A place where laundering and extortion was a game that men like Big Joe, Malone and Frankie had turned into a lethal combination of organised rackets and murder.
-Chapter Three-
The cab pulled up and stopped at the collection point curb side, outside the airports entrance to the flight arrivals busy meet and greet. There were people in their dozens coming and going with bags and suitcases through the double glass sliding doors that led inside Stansted's exit portal.
After the taxis engine was off, Frankie again disembarked the car and reminded the driver that it was a wait and return journey. He then turned, and made his way through the sliding doors. The new arrivals and the people to meet them were everywhere and Frankie thought that the area couldn't have been as busy as inside the airports departure terminals where passengers would be purchasing tickets and transferring their luggage into the bag drop before presenting their boarding pass and moving on up the escalators to proceed through the main security checks. Those were brand new lanes, naturally lit and considerably improved to keep everyone single file as they lined up to pass through the electronic body scanners.
The voices and conversations of everyone
along with the overhead public address system was making Frankie hot and he knew right then he was still feeling frustrated by the lateness of his arrival.
Frankie looked around at everybody, checking to see if Zed was somewhere in the crowd and hadn't seen him, though Zed wasn't there yet.
"Fucking hell," Frankie said to himself. He was getting hotter and was wondering why the air conditioning felt as if it was on the lowest setting, if the air conditioning was even turned on that day.
He was sure it must be, as he would imagine it was done by a timer and therefore would be set to switch itself on and off at certain times of day. Likely to be, 8am and 10pm this time of year, Frankie thought.
He made his way through the crowds of people towards the flight screens. Best stay away from security he thought to himself, as he had his colt 45 pistol holstered underneath his suit jacket.
Frankie never left his house without it.
Almost knocking sixties door down at fifty seven, Frankie had seen a lot of things, almost everything. He had been there through the days of sus crime and had grown up in that environment.
Being one of the few white families in a predominantly black, poverty stricken part of South London during the seventies and eighties and an only child, Frankie had left home, leaving his mother alone to defend herself against his abusive father and from a young age, Frankie didn't think his dad loved him or his mother.
Being unemployed and alcoholic his old man had too much free time on his hands, and he had used that free time to drink, and his father had been an angry man who had grew up in Kent and whose father had had a bad drinking problem before him.
Frankie's earliest memory of his grandfather was when he had visited the house in South London and had spent the weekend getting pissed and picking on his son for whatever reason.
Frankie remembered his dad that weekend, taking a verbal beating and subsequently beating on his wife just an hour after his grandfather had left the Monday morning.
Frankie didn't go to school that Monday.
Frankie didn't go to school much after that at all.
His dad used to beat on his wife most days till she was a shell of lady, a frail shell and he would be awake upstairs wanting to help his mum and stop his dad hurting her.
Once, when he had tried, his dad had broken Frankie’s arm and cracked a few of his ribs for getting himself involved. His dad had beat on them both that day terribly.
He had beat Frankie for stepping in and had beat his wife for not controlling the boy.
The last time he had tried to help, it had been his mother who had turned and hit Frankie. He wasn't sure his mother loved him much either. He didn't think the woman felt anything any longer. As a man Frankie knew that his dad had most probably beaten any feelings she had out of her and knowing his grandfather had a drinking problem too made Frankie think drinking must run his family.
Like father like son.
Frankie wondered how many generations back this had gone. How far down the bloodline did this infliction go.
He knew one thing though, and that was no matter how far back it went, it wasn't going any further. It could go back and back and back and back but it was definitely stopping with him.
Frankie hadn't touched the drink in his life, he had never succumb to any other recreational substances either and considered his body and mind pure.
Sure his dad liked the booze but the booze didn't share the same enthusiasm for him. In fact the booze had eaten away at his old man's insides until the mid-nineties when he was hospitalized and diagnosed with drink related liver failure.
The guys skin had turned a shitty shade of green and yellow. Alcohol had finally and thoroughly caused putrefaction of the man's liver that had killed him two months later.
Frankie remembered receiving the call and Frankie didn't give a fuck. They say the man takes a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes the man.
The last time Frankie had seen his parents was just before he had enrolled in the British forces and back then Frankie had been an angry young man and had been needing some sort of therapy.
One day his mother had another busted eye so Frankie had gone into the garden and had dug a hole and waited for his dad to return home. He waited until he heard the harsh voice of his dad coming from the kitchen and had called him out.
His dad was drunk and when he saw the hole in the garden he had begun shouting, but this time Frankie wasn't keeping quiet. Frankie was still gripping the shovel in hands when his dad screamed, asking Frankie what the fuck he thought he was doing, "Digging your fucking grave," Frankie had said as he swung the shovel through the air and narrowly missing his intended target.
He swung again and this time his dad had taken a step in the wrong direction and put himself a step closer to where his son stood.
The shovel missed his dads head but caught him in the right shoulder and knocked him to the ground and as quickly as the shovel had moved through the air, Frankie had leapt forward and was on top of his dad. Both fists hitting him until his dad had cried for him to stop, so Frankie stopped.
The sound of his dad pleading for him to quit beating on him had made Frankie think of all the times his mother had cried for his dad to stop beating on her and suddenly Frankie felt pity for them both.
He realised then that both his mother and his father were weak people and he knew he couldn't put his dad in that hole. He had felt like killing him, he had thought about doing it, visualised it. He had planned and prepared for it, but back then, he hadn't killed anyone yet. He was young and innocent. He knew he could, and he never knew how easy it would become, and that was the last time he had seen his parents. He had joined the army less than a month later.
This was the early eighties and the Thatcher regime. A time when England had been at war with itself. Frankie had left the army sixteen years later and in that time he had seen the Falklands in eighty five, the Gulf war in ninety one, and had served the remaining part of his career plain clothed in Belfast against the Provo's in ninety five. The provisional I.R.A. was a paramilitary organisation that sought to end British rule in Northern Ireland.
It was in the army where Frankie had met Big Joe, they were around the same age and the two had hit it off right away and worked on different ventures on the side over the years. The two of them became a fatal attraction for anybody who underestimated the pair.
Frankie was a trained killer. He knew it and he was good at it. He had been hauled in, suspected of three counts of murder in ninety seven but due to insufficient evidence the charges were dropped, and unsupported by further action Frankie had walked. It had all been thanks to Big Joe. The man had done him a favour, and Frankie had been one of Joe's right hand men ever since.
The criminal underworld was home to men like Frankie, and in his time, Frankie had seen a lot of things.
#
The plane had landed at Stansted on time. It arrived at the airport at a quarter past midday and following leaving the plane, Zed made his way along the arrivals link bridge towards the passport control and after that he moved on to the UK border passport check, he then made his descent to the baggage hall. He collected his bag. A single holdall. Not many belongings as Zed had travelled light that day.
He had to locate the wayfinding system to exit the airport and after he had been through the orientation zone and customs, Zed took the mechanised auto-walk, -after he had chuckled at the sign for the trav-O-lator-, and found his way down to the arrival concourse that led to the meet and greet where he was expected to rendezvous with Frankie.
Zed stepped off the human conveyor belt at the end of the concourse and stopped.
He needed a drink.
It had been a long, dry flight which had made it impossible for Zed to have sated his thirst. He knew he couldn't stop to pick something up from the airports retail areas as he had decided against it. That and he was broke.
He had recently received a letter while inside. The letter had been signed with the name Lisa, however, Zed knew who had really sent it.
Lisa was Zed's girlfriend, he knew this letter wasn't from her. This was Big Joe. Zed didn't like Big Joe. He found the man to be arrogant. Zed knew that Big Joe didn't care whether Zed understood the letter was from him or not, but having Lisa's name attached to it suggested that Joe literally didn't want his own name associated with the letter. "Big 'Gutless' Joe" Zed had thought, while he sat waiting in the confined space of his detention cell.
The letter had given Zed peace of mind. Reading the letter two or three times and having memorised it's content, Zed wasn't going to disregard Big Joe's instructions, no matter what opinion he held for the guy.
The letter had told Zed to meet Frankie at the airport. It had also stated, that he had to meet Frankie sober.
So Zed needed a drink.
He looked around the meet and greet area of the airports arrival exit and saw Frankie in front of the large flight screen, apparently Frankie was looking at the flight timetable, so Zed made his way over.
He approached Frankie quickly, and snuck up behind him and heard Frankie talking to himself about the flight times, and by his tone, it was clear to Zed, that Frankie was pissed off.
Zed was about to make his presence known when Frankie spoke again.
"Come on, Zed, where the fuck are you"
"Right behind you, you piece of shit."
Frankie swung round and saw Zed standing in front of him.
"Fuck, Zed, you look like the sweaty pussy I saw last week. What's with the beard, don't they allow prisoners to shave over there?"
"No, screws over there aren't exactly friendly man."
"Friendly?" Frankie questioned, "No barber once a week, or a guy on your wing who cuts inmates hair?"
"No Frank. It's different. It's not like it is here man. Them bastards beat the hell out of you for coughing too loud man. You know them type of bastards Frank?"
"Yeah I know them kid,"- Frankie lied, as he looked down at his watch before continuing, -"Let's go man, taxi's waiting outside."
The two men made their way out to the orange car park outside Stansted's exit terminal. The taxi was there waiting and Frankie could hear the drivers music playing as they approached the car. Frankie wasn't impressed by this at all and was quite quickly beginning to really dislike the driver. How many more times would this guy cause him to stand out today?
Frankie wasn't an easily embarrassed type of guy but he was discreet and this fucking driver seemed to have absolutely no sense of discretion what so ever. When Frankie was near the taxi he opened the driver's door and told the man to turn off the music.
"Music calms the most savage of beasts," the driver said, reaching for the button on the cd player.
"Calm?" said Frankie, "you've had your fucking calm...., before the storm," he replied, angrily, slamming the car door closed again. He opened the back door and climbed inside while Zed walked around to use the other door. Zed got inside the taxi and sat in the back seat next to Frankie. He was starting to seem annoyed Frankie thought.
"Are you alright kid?" Frankie said, turning to look at Zed.
"Listen Frankie, let's get out of here man. I need a drink. The fucking plane was a dry flight."
"Aren’t you clean?" Frankie asked.
"I was, six months, then I found a guy in the choir who made his own."
"The rest is history huh?"
"Story of my life Frank," Zed replied looking at his friend. He could see in Frankie's eyes that the man was struggling with their transactions.
The car started up and the driver looked over his shoulder and asked if they were going back the same way. Frankie told him to take the M11/M25 down towards Harlow and then change to the M23 and onto Croydon where he wanted to get on the A237 route to Lions Green and B-road the rest of the journey.
Frankie knew the way and he wasn't happy about sitting in the taxi for a further ninety minutes and silently wished Zed's flight had landed at Gatwick instead. Though here he was, hot and angry, with a bad driver, and a friend who was only interested in getting himself drunk. "What a fun journey this is gonna be. Just not my fucking day," he thought, as the cab pulled out of the airports exit.
They headed north east and took the fourth exit off the roundabout onto the slip road of the A120.
Everything was quiet except for the faint drum of the wind blowing through the front and back windows on the driver's side.
Frankie was sat behind the driver thinking about Big Joe's requirements of him that morning, "Pick up Zed at the airport and deliver him to Big Joe's smaller casino, The Chips&Aces, in Kensington."
Frankie thought the way Big Joe had instructed him to deliver Zed sounded as if Zed was a package that Big Joe had ordered Frankie to collect and courier to him. Frankie also knew that the big party was a surprise for Zed, to welcome him home, and that the party was taking place at one of Big Joe's bigger and more fancier establishments, The Diamond Casino, further up Tottenham court in Soho on the West End. "Gonna be a long day," Frankie thought to himself, as Zed coughed into his hand and turned towards Frankie.
"You got any dough on you Frankie, I'm broke," he said.
Frankie turned to look at him.
"I do man, but no,"- he said, turning away from Zed, -"they'll be plenty when we stop man, just be cool. We won't be long."
Frankie's phone started vibrating in his jacket pocket.
It was a text.
Frankie retrieved his phone, pressed the side button and to himself, he read what it said. The text was from Big Joe, telling Frankie to meet at Joe's house rather than at the casino.
Frankie told the driver the new location, avoiding giving him the full address information. Frankie knew better than to give out Big Joe's home address to a stranger, or to anybody else for that matter. The same way Frankie knew not to save a targets whereabouts on his phone before he paid them visit.
Frankie wasn't stupid, experience had taught him an awful lot and he always remembered what he had learned. He had seen too many stupid mistakes made by smart people, but Frankie knew it didn't matter how smart or good at the job you were, it was your fault if you were to fuck things up.
So Frankie always wrote the addresses on his hand, in biro, he wouldn't save details on his phone and he didn't write them down on paper, so if the cops were too pull him over and have a reason to haul his ass down to the station, then he could rub the ink off of his skin before they knew it was there.
Discretion wasn't the only thing that benefited Frankie, he also took advantage of knowing that a wise man learns from others mistakes and a smart man learns from his own, so if you can't be wise then you have to be smart.
Unfortunately, Frankie was sitting on the ledge of a precipice that morning and he was just about to be pushed over the edge.
He was feeling tired.
His temper was raising by the minute. He would be pushed to the limit and find himself in a predicament.
Frankie just didn't know it yet.
-Chapter Four-
They arrived a short distance from Big Joe's place about an hour later. Frankie had the driver stop where he knew there were no cameras. Zed had been acting stressed, and now looked as tired and pissed off as Frankie felt, which had Frankie growing concern. "Does he know, we know," Frankie thought, knowing the man he was sat next to, yet taking into account that Zed had spent the last two years locked up inside a Chinese detention centre and had only stepped off the plane that morning after his release.
Was Zed still the same man?
Frankie knew only Zed and the prisons guard's knew exactly what those two years had entailed for Zed. Them and maybe there was a small possibility that God knew as well. “Na,” -Frankie thought, - “Not even God would have an insight into what mayhem occurs inside them places.” What Frankie had heard, is that those prisons were like hell on earth and Frankie didn't know if God had ever seen hell, but he presumed not.
One thing for sure was, Zed didn't seem happy at all and it suddenly occurred to Frankie that he hadn't seen Zed smile since he had picked him up. Frankie didn't like it one bit. He couldn't tell what Zed was feeling or thinking, but Frankie didn't have the patience or the temperament for it today.
All he knew was Zed was seeming different somehow. He was distant. He looked like a man with a lot on his mind, maybe "Fifty thousand things," Frankie thought, but Zed sure did look like a man who had had it tough for a while, Frankie knew that much.
But not knowing all the facts, Frankie chose to dismiss it.
The taxi driver turned around and told Frankie how much he had to give him for the journey. Distracted, Frankie sighed and with his left hand he reached into his right inside pocket of his jacket. As he did, the pistol he was carrying slightly protruded from his shirt and Zed saw it.
Frankie hadn't noticed Zed had turned and was watching him as Zed leapt across snatching the Colt from its holster. Frankie went to grab it, but Zed was too quick for him, and as fast as he had acquired the weapon, Zed had just as quickly flicked the safety catch off and was pointing the gun at the driver.
The driver held still.
He didn't need to be told to freeze, he was motionless.
Frankie was holding his wallet in his hand while looking at Zed. Zed was laughing but his eyes were terrified. Just like everything else about Zed, Frankie didn't recognise those eyes.
The driver began pleading with Zed. Telling him the journey was free and offering him money. "Please don't do this" and "please this and that," so Frankie spoke up.
"Listen," he said, "it would be wise to stay quiet. He's not gonna shoot you, paying you is top of my agenda."
Frankie was lying. Getting his gun back from Zed before Zed killed the guy was the top of Frankie's agenda, but he had to keep the guy calm. He first had to reassure the driver that he was going to walk away from this, and that Frankie would keep him safe.
Frankie really felt like killing Zed for taking his gun.
Zed kept the gun pointed at the driver when he spoke, "Fuck that shit Frankie, what's this guy's problem? You know?"
"No kid, what you thinking Zed?"
"Two years, two fucking years Frank, silence and screams man, now this fucking prick doesn't speak to us for ninety fucking minutes."
Frankie looked briefly at the finger Zed had over the trigger and saw how much pressure Zed held on it.
"Relax, Zed, it's over, you don't want this pal." Frankie spoke calmly and told Zed about the accident that had happened on his way to the airport and how he had told the driver to be quiet and to not speak. Zed chuckled and released his grip on the trigger slightly.
"Yeah, I told him to keep his fucking trap shut. The guys incompetent. He's a fucking liability."
Zed turned to look at Frankie, "For real Frank?"
"Yeah, for real kid."
The driver was terrified, the look in his eyes meant he was in fact scared to death. He was scared for his life but he stayed quiet. His bladder was full and in his fear he couldn't hold it in any longer.
Frankie continued talking to Zed. Zed held the gun firm on the driver. Frankie sniffed, realising he could smell piss and he sniffed again to confirm it actually was piss he was smelling. He turned to speak to the driver.
"Have you pissed yourself?" Frankie asked.
The driver began sniffling and started to cry. Frankie asked him again and Zed joined in with the questioning.
"Did you fucking piss yourself," asked Frankie.
"You did. You pissed your pants right?" said Zed.
Still crying, the driver looked at Frankie, then to Zed and admitted that he had pissed himself. Both men laughed and for the first time Frankie saw excitement and fun in Zed's eyes. Frankie was seeing the old Zed and knew then that he was just fooling around.
"I told him three fucking times to keep his eyes on the road man and he still fucked up,"- Frankie said, -"Ahh, fuck it shoot the cunt Zed."
"No, pleas-" the driver couldn't finish.
Adopting a baby tone of voice, Zed jeered the driver, "Is that right, he told you three times to watch the road and you still drove up someone's ass?" said Zed, "tell me your name?" he demanded.
"Uh, Kristos Bartosweshka," the driver replied.
"Kristos Bartosweshka,"- Zed repeated, as he looked to Frankie, -"Remember how we dealt with Old Priest Hanagan over in Catford for not paying his debt? You remember you had to cut off his fingers before he gave us what was owed?"
Frankie looked at him puzzled and confused. Actually Frankie didn't have a clue what Zed was talking about. Frankie couldn't remember any Priests, nor any debts him and Zed had ever collected together. Frankie went along with the taunt anyway because Zed still had his gun.
"Shit Zed, you need to watch what you're saying in front of people man."
"Fuck that," said Zed.
"Your just gonna have to shoot him," Frankie concluded.
"No sir, please. Don't worry about the fare, just please le-" the driver again couldn't finish his plea. Zed looked at him, then at the gun and back to the driver.
"Yeah I can't go back in," he said.
"You're right," Frankie agreed.
Zed lowered the gun to his lap. The driver made a sigh of relief, when to his shock horror, as instantly as had felt relief from not having a gun in face, it returned to the opposite just as fast as Zed whipped the pistol back up aiming the Colt at him once again.
"Bang," Zed shouted, making both the driver and Frankie jump, before lowering the pistol. Zed laughed and turned to Frankie and Frankie looked at Zed looking at him. Zed raised the pistol in hand his by this time it wasn’t a threatening manner, this time he was passing the Colt back to Frankie, gesturing for the man to take it. Frankie stared into Zed's eyes for a moment, trying to predict the mans next move but he couldn’t so thought that he better just take the gun. He flicked the safety catch down and slipped the gun back into his holster then straightened his jacket.
"I'd appreciate it if you chose to pretend this never happened, because either way you'll take it to the grave," Frankie warned the driver.
Frankie didn't like leaving loose ends but he couldn't just shoot the guy right here in broad daylight. Not up this part of town. Frankie knew his best bet was to try and pay the guy off. He opened his wallet and took out a thousand pounds in fifty sheet papers, each with a red queens head and reached over telling the driver to take it. The driver did.
"Count it, that should be a suffice amount to compensate for any harsh feelings you might have. Wouldn't you say," Frankie said, more telling him than asking. The driver nodded in agreement, then stuck the money in his glove compartment.
Frankie and Zed left the vehicle and without caution the Vauxhall Passat sped off down the road before both men were on the other side of the street. The Vauxhall's tyres screeched as he fled. The driver didn't look back. He knew he wouldn't allow himself to be put in that situation again. He'd have himself prepared next time. If there was a next time. He would make sure he was protected, he wouldn’t waist any time on that, he would be seeing a Romanian about an extra arm before the day was through.
Walking along beside Zed, Frankie felt untidy, he pressed his collar and tie back to precision and together, they walked off down the road. They had been dropped off within a mile of Big Joe's place.
Frankie was still confused as to what had just really happened in the car. He had realised that Zed was cranky. He understood that Zed had been out of town and been through a raw deal. Frankie could accept it, if perhaps Zed just needed to blow off some steam, but what was mostly perplexing for Frankie more than anything was, why? Why did Zed snatch his gun totally unexpectedly? Frankie hadn't seen it coming.
Zed's actions were so beyond logic Frankie found them difficult to comprehend, and at the same time, it had almost sent the situation way out of Frankie's control.
What if Zed hadn't been joking, and had actually lost his mind momentarily, with the full intention of shooting the driver. Would he have killed “him” too, Frankie thought. Frankie just couldn't make sense of any of it.
He was especially baffled about why Zed had chosen to act so wild and pull a stunt like this, so close to Big Joe's house. It was like Zed didn't give a fuck anymore. All Frankie could think was, maybe Zed knows the plan. Though how could he? Frankie needed to ask Zed about something that was said in the car.
Frankie knew that some actions have consequences, if it's not consequences then, there might be a ripple effect. If it doesn't have that then, the action will have a reaction. Frankie turned to Zed.
"Priest Hanagan?" Frankie said.
Zed chuckled.
"Hanagan,"- he laughed again, -"Yeah, Hanagan was a character in a book I read when I was a kid. He was the head teacher at this Catholic school. He used a slipper to discipline the kids," Zed told him.
"Yeah, what else?" asked Frankie,
"That's all I remember."
It was clear to Frankie that Zed had made up the comment about "Old Priest Hanagan losing his fingers," just to further scare the driver.
The idea that Zed had wanted to intimidate the guy, Frankie understood, but in doing so, "Why incriminate me,"- he thought, -"why make me out to be that particular person? Talk about painting a picture of somebody about something that never happened. Pure fabrication of a brutal crime that had been spontaneously born in Zed's imagination. A manifestation of an evil deed that had suggested I'm the affiliated assailant who had carried it out." Frankie was pissed.
"In all my knowledge and awareness I could never fully predict you," Frankie said, "what happened back there, Zed? This is gonna cause some trouble! I can see it coming!"
"Just fucking around, Frankie."
Frankie felt disappointed in this answer as much as he was feeling let down by Zed's actions. The man had clearly forgotten what it was that was expected of him. It didn't matter to Frankie, if Zed was cranky, or that possibly he had only done it to blow off some steam, or even if it was merely to amuse himself. He had still acted without consideration, even if he had thought about what he was doing. Deep down, Frankie knew, that at first, Zed had had full intention of pulling the trigger.
Frankie had no doubt about it.
He “was” going to shoot the driver.
He had the stomach for it definitely, and by snatching the pistol, it had given Zed the ability to do so too. If Frankie hadn't talked him down that is.
In that scenario, the driver would now be dead. So did that mean Zed would've killed "me to?" - Frankie thought again, -"Would Zed have shot me before, turning the gun on himself. Or would he have ran, and disappeared, knowing people were after him?"
However you determined it, the end result would have the same consequence. Now Frankie had to explain this to his boss, but how? Zed was under Frankie's watch. Frankie was temporarily responsible for the guys actions. How was he going to explain what had just occurred without sounding negligent himself, and while they were practically on the boss man's door step too.
Frankie couldn't help but wonder what Zed had been through. What had the man seen and done. From his years spent in the army he knew one shouldn't ask a war veteran about their experience of war and the same went for ex-convicts too. Never the less Frankie was curious about the man's trials and tribulations that went with the horrors of which Zed had been subjected too, as he had witnessed the harsh effects those horrors had had on the man.
Frankie had seen a lot of crazy things in his life, but he hadn't expected this from a guy only two hours after stepping off a plane from a Chinese prison system. Frankie was indeed still baffled by it all, and so, rapidly he made the choice to voluntarily give up his train of thought.
He decided what he mostly disliked about the situation was, if Zed had really just been fucking around, then the man had no remorse or shame for his actions, knowing how detrimental they could cause things to be for the others.
The man had not apologised.
Frankie thought it was about time for some friendly chit chat and tried to start up a conversation.
"Never mind kid, it's good to see you. I hope you're happy you'll get to see Lisa soon?"
"Yeah, I'm happy Frank," Zed stopped there. It was apparent to Frankie that the guy didn't want to talk much, nor was he happy. Zed turned to Frankie and spoke.
"Am I in danger Frankie?" he asked.
Frankie looked Zed straight in the eye.
"No kid, you're gonna be fine, and you're gonna be busy. I got a few things for you to do. I think a period of time to adjust, and settle back into work is what you need man, and that's all."
"So, I'm safe, Frank"
"You are Zed," Frankie lied.
Both men walked the rest of the way to Big Joe's house in silence. "Zed's gonna have an eventful day," Frankie thought to himself.
-Chapter Five-
Lisa was the niece of Malone's wife Caroline. She was also Zed's long term girlfriend. When Zed had told her that he needed some time to himself, and had bought a flight to Wuhan, China, on a six month tourist visa, Lisa hadn't been pleased and had asked him not to go. That was three years ago.
Zed didn't have any previous convictions. No charges, he had never even been given so much as a parking ticket, so when his application came back successful, that was it. Zed had packed his bags and left, leaving Lisa alone to figure out what she was going to do with herself while he was away. "You'll be fine, you'll figure something out," Zed had told her, "loves ya and I'll be home before ya know it," he had said.
He had never broken up with Lisa, in fact he was in love with her, and she him. It wasn't a case of Zed feeling stuck in the relationship, so he wasn't leaving the country to avoid having the decency to tell her the truth. He had no intention of running away from her. Zed just needed a break from the stress of his career. Being what he was, a thug for hire comes with its own risks that had caused Zed to merely need a holiday and to enjoy the sun, that, and some time away to assess his life, and what he wanted from it. That was what he had told Lisa.
She had understood his basic need for reassessing his career, but she didn't understand why it felt as if her boyfriend was abandoning her. Maybe because that was what he was doing, if only temporarily. How did Lisa know that he would sincerely return home in half a year. Why would she believe it?
Because a piece paper said he had to?
She didn't fully believe it. This had appeared out of the blue. For all Lisa knew, he might prefer being away, falling in love with a different culture and decide that he was never coming back. After all, Zeds decision to leave was random, and she could only presume there might be further unpredictable changes down the line. Never the less, she said she trusted him. She told him she would wait for him, and that she was his. "We're soulmates," Zed had replied, and she always remembered that.
Lisa kept faith, optimistic that this was indeed temporary, and that they would be together again in six months-time.
The morning he left they had kissed, they had said their goodbyes, and that was that. She knew the road ahead of her was going to be long. She didn't realise just how long, hard and winding that road would turn out to be. She especially couldn't imagine the full extent, of how horrible, and terrible life would become for the man she was in love with.
#
Zed had always been fascinated by the Chinese culture and he wanted to visit, he also had plenty on his mind after a conversation he had had with Lisa over breakfast one morning a few days before he had left. He was hoping it would have all been forgotten about by the time he returned home and so he was doing what he could to spend the time away enjoying the country, however things didn't go according to plan when he was attacked five months through his holiday while out browsing around the city.
He was out walking one night and had passed a rundown hotel when he was approached by a few native thugs who had attempted to mug him, though Zed had defended himself against his attackers and had sent the muggers running. All apart from one guy, who had remained unconscious on the pavement even after the police and paramedics had arrived at the scene.
They arrested Zed, and being a tourist, he was seen as an unwelcome guest. At first the Chinese authorities were wanting to have him deported as his visa validation was only a few weeks from expiring, so instead of deportation they had tried to put Zed on an attempted murder charge that could've put Zed inside for life, or worse, the death penalty.
The charge was quickly changed to grievous bodily harm, and so he was remanded for six months labour within the administration system before he was prosecuted and found guilty. The court had sentenced him to a fixed term of two years imprisonment, where they took away his freedom in accordance with the law.
China being a nation of laws, not a nation of the rule of law, meant Zed had ended up in China's penal systems judicial incarceration network. Zed had narrowly escaped a twenty year sentence with a two year reprieve period before his, would have been, execution date. After the court hearing he was escorted to Quinchen Prison, where he was to begin his sentence.
Zed was classed as a high ranking prisoner. He was fed three meals a day, given to him in his cell where he was detained twenty three hours a day. He wasn't allowed to keep any utensils or possessions in his cell, and his detention block held four levels of steel cages, that had a strict, 'no communication' rule. Inmates sat in their cells in silence all day and every day, fearing, that if they were to speak, it would result in further punishment.
For the first few months Zed had sat in his metal box going over his trial and the events that led to him being there, replaying the accounts over and over in his head.
It was early days for Zed, and he being all too aware of this, swore he could still smell the sweat from the judge on the day he was in court. He could still hear Lisa's voice too, asking him not to leave her. In his mind he could see her face, her auburn hair, her lips. He missed her touch, the way she felt. That all faded and was forgotten over the coming months.
Initially he had felt like crying though he couldn't bring himself to shed a tear because he knew if he did, he wouldn't stop. He couldn't let other inmates or the guards hear his upset or know of his pain and torment. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Other guys did, but not him. He felt alone. He couldn't speak the native language so when the guards would come to his cell he would get scared as he didn't understand the orders.
Zed was completely lost.
Sometimes at night the guards would come to his cell and taunt him, they would speak to him in non-threatening tones, without a raised voice, that would tempt Zed to speak, and he almost would, though even before a sound could leave his lips, one of the guards would backhand him across his face, "Anjing," they would say, which Zed later discovered meant "silence." He was thrown into a place where there was no sunlight and was deadly quiet where weekly beatings would become his new life.
There was two hundred men on Zed's block and no one spoke. He would hear them cough and urinate and that was it. The guards would come and go from the block while at random choosing different prisoners they would remove from their cells and drag down the corridor and take them outside.
Once outside the men were thrown into a bigger cage and made to fight. Usually the guards would choose two men that they already knew were enemies and have them go against each other while the guards placed bets on who would win. The loser of course was often hurt so bad none of the inmates would ever see him again and the injuries were always registered as unnatural or accidental and sometimes reported as suicide. The guards would then beat the man who won.
Often they would use wet bamboo sticks to whack against the prisoners bare feet. Being hit with wet bamboo can break bones but doesn't bruise the skin and so the guards would take advantage of that technique.
At the far end of the corridor there was a room the guards nicknamed, "Anquan Wu" which, when translated into English meant "safe room." That was where the guards would take the men they wanted to severely harm. There was nothing "safe" about that room.
Sometimes the screams were horrifying and were punished with a later beating for breaking the "silent" rule. Some of the guards hated the prisoners with an absolute passion without a cause. If the guards ever had a prisoner they had taken a personal dislike towards they would starve the man for a week, and it got worse, before feeding him they would take a shit in the prisoners food bucket. That had happened to Zed many times.
One day inside the "safe room" a prisoner had been beaten to death and his body was seen being removed by most inmates in their cells. An hour later someone started singing from up above.
From Zeds cell, which was located on the ground floor, he couldn't tell who it was or what cell the singer was in, but he could hear it coming from somewhere above him. He listened, thinking about who it must be, and why they were putting themselves at risk by breaking the no speaking rule.
Zed didn't understand the language and he had no idea what the prisoner was singing about but never the less, it was a beautiful song. Other inmates who had the balls to join in did until the sound of a guards footsteps running along the hallway to give them hell was heard and lured their silence, the singing stopped. It was silent once more. The guard had begun shouting in Chinese, probably trying to find out who the singer had been, Zed didn't know, but nobody said anything. The guard walked away, pissed off at his failure of not catching the guy, and as soon as he was gone, the singing started up again. Zed believed that the song was in respect for the dead man.
That was Zeds single peaceful moment.
Along with the beatings, other than that one time, Zed had lived for two years with only the screams to break up the silence. On his final night in the clink, Zed had cried. He had waited two years to cry.
-Chapter Six-
Big Joe could be a difficult man at times, he knew exactly how to get right under your skin when it suited him. He was the sort of guy who liked to watch gambler's losing their livelihoods around the roulette tables, equally as much as he enjoyed picking up on the outward tell-tale signs of the lies of a poker player and he considered it his business to know all the small details in all aspects of his job, no matter how tiny, because it's the little detail's that are the most vital. He believed that life's happiness and drama lives and hides in the small details.
Big Joe wasn't a gambler, instead, he preferred to be a profiteer, which he found pride in that legal side of his career, so Big Joe had a moto, and that moto represented his own personal thoughts about his work, “If you never start, you're always up," he was known to say, when asked why he himself didn't gamble.
His confident smirk and face full of quirky expressions made him an attractive man that to many, was only a little rough round the edges. His marriage to Amy, military training and business ventures, legal and illegal had all added texture to Big Joe's life.
#
Frankie stopped at the tall automated gates outside the drive way of Big Joe's house. There was a digital code lock keypad surface mounted on the stone gate pillar that activated the electronic system. The keypad had a built in camera and a buzzer that was wirelessly connected to a touch screen video intercom inside the house. The entire estate house was linked up with security cameras and the best wireless home security system that money could buy.
Frankie pressed the buzzer and a few seconds later a man's voice came out the speaker.
"Hey, hey, Frankie, come on up my man."
The gates began to open so then Frankie led Zed up the forty metre drive way. There was a black SUV Nissan Pathfinder parked beside the triple garage and one car parked outside the house and it was Big Joe's blue Audi TT.
"That Joe's?" Zed asked, nodding towards the car. Frankie confirmed this and then continued walking him up to the front door.
Frankie knocked twice.
A black man answered the door, greeted them and invited them inside. Zed knew this man well, it was Benny and they were friends. Usually Benny liked to talk, only this time Benny wasn't talking. They walked into the lobby and Benny took their jackets.
He was another employee of Big Joe's.
Benny was a big guy who liked a joke and a laugh although he could also be extremely volatile and dangerous. Zed wondered why Benny wasn't smiling or seem that happy to see him.
The man displayed an air of self-importance as he opened a closet and put the jackets inside before leading Frankie and Zed out of the lobby and down the hall.
Still not speaking.
Benny's face was full of marks and dents, he looked like the surface of the moon. His crater face looked old to Zed. The man had been a team member for years though to Zed, today he seemed separate. His eyes were the eyes of a man who holds no sympathy or empathy and Zed thought Benny's eyes looked like the man who wasn't really there.
Down the hall Benny stopped outside a closed door. He turned to Frankie and drew back his lips showing his white teeth slightly. A big grin stretched across his face as he opened the door to the reception room.
The room inside was dark and Benny stepped in. Frankie turned to Zed and gestured for him to follow Benny. Zed was worried all of a sudden. He thought the guys were acting strange. Something felt suspicious but he did as Frankie wanted and followed Benny in with Frankie entering the room behind him.
The room was too dark for Zed to see Benny in front of him and he turned to Frankie.
"He should roll his eyes or show us his teeth again so we can see him," Zed said, when all of a sudden somebody clicked the lights on.
"Surprise," everyone cheered.
Zed jumped. He couldn't believe it. To his amazement the room was filled with his friends and associates. It looked like everybody. There were at least half a dozen girls there who he didn't recognise but this didn't worry Zed. Girls were girls, he was more glad that he could see Junior, Blake and Hysum and wondered where Dwayne, Billy and the women were, maybe they'll stagger in later he thought. He wanted them all to be there, they were his pals who all worked for Malone's side of the business syndicate.
He realised he couldn't see Malone. Malone wasn't there yet. There was Larry, Amy, Ray and Steve, Louis, and Sarah, who were all part of Big Joe's crew. Mixed in with everybody he saw Carl, Lee and Jimmy Hernandez, who were a trio of business associates of Big Joe's.
Frankie was still stood behind him, and Benny had walked away in the direction of the bar. He saw Lisa standing next to Amy. Amy was Big Joe's pocket size wife, but despite her being vertically challenged and nonchalantly permeating from being sociable with a fear of missing out, you could always spot Amy in a crowd, by the way she would invariably have her hands placed on her hips, and the bracelets she wore up to her elbows that jangled along with her movements. Her long blonde hair was crimp cut and her blouse was loose. A stunning young thirty something, who held an undeniable amount of self interest.
Rumour had it she used to be the promiscuous type before she met Big Joe. A lewd woman who's flirtatious behaviour had sometimes gotten her into trouble, especially when she was drunk and it went too far, but Big Joe and Amy seemed in happy enough.
Zed smiled at Lisa as everyone was still cheering.
"Welcome home," someone yelled from the crowd.
"Let's get this party started," Carl shouted, from the P.A system on the on the other side of the room. He pressed play on a lap top and the speakers came to life playing a 50 Cents' song, In The Club.
Zed turned to look at Frankie.
"This is for you man. A welcome home thing. Let's make it a riot eh," Frankie said, raising his voice over the loud hip hop track.
Zed nodded in agreement and smiled.
"That's the first time his smile's been convincing", Frankie thought.
Zed began walking off towards Lisa who was in a hurry to get to him.
"This is great," he said, "somebody get me drink."
Benny put his hand on Zed's shoulder and Zed turned to him.
"Here," he said, passing a bottle of lager to Zed. Zed took the bottle and put it to his lips, gulping the beer down without taking a breath. Lisa ran towards him and grabbed him, throwing her arms around him and kissed his cheek. Zed hugged her back tightly.
"Babe," she said, "I've missed you."
"I've fucking missed you too," Zed said, as he looked around at the guests.
"I've fucking missed you all," he said, "I can't believe I'm home, this is mad."
A few of the guests came over, one by one they greeted him, shaking his hands, kissing his cheek. Except for some of the female guests,
-who Zed presumed must be random employees from Big Joe's casino's-. Other than the random girls, Zed knew everybody, all old faces and Zed felt safe. Safer than he had felt in a long time.
This felt right.
He felt like he was home.
He took another big gulp of beer and emptied the bottle as Big Joe approached him with another bottle. Zed smiled at him as the music track was changing into Coolios, It Takes A Thief.
"Good to have you home pal," said Joe, "I'm pleased you and Lisa are happy to see each other, it hasn't been easy on her pal. Not on any of us. It's been a very stressful time, as I'm sure it has been for you."
"Major understatement you gutless prick," Zed thought, although he gave a different reply.
"It was, Joe, every minute was pure stress," he said, ironically.
"I can imagine, no, I can relate," said Big Joe.
"Sure," Zed said, increasing his vocal effort so to be heard above the sound of the loud music.
He held his hand out to Big Joe and they shook hands. Zed thanked him for all he had done; - for the flight ticket home, for his collection from the airport, for giving Lisa the help and support she must have needed and finally, for the party. Big Joe told him he was welcome, and sensed a particular vibe that made him wonder if Zed was only being polite.
Big Joe believed that Zed didn't want to talk to him any longer and he was correct because Zed didn't. Zed had enough on his mind. He didn't have time for the arrogance of the conversation and had felt offended when Big Joe had used the word "relate" . Zed knew well enough that the man had never been in jail, how could he relate his experiences to the time that Zed had spent inside.
Zed knew better, he knew it wasn't worth being pedantic and although a small part of him wanted to confront Big Joe about it, and make the man look small while he was questioned on how he could relate to the trials and tribulations of a man who had been through what Zed had without ever being through any similar experience himself. Zed decided it was a waste of his time. "It wouldn't do any good," he thought. "It would be better to forget about it." He wanted to enjoy the party, after all, everyone had made an effort to attend.
Lisa wanted to dance, so they made their way into the centre of the room where people were boogieing to Chris Brown's song, Turn Up the Music.
Directly ahead was where the big French doors were that led out to the back garden where they had a gazebo with seating and music. There was food tables against the left side wall of the reception room where food had been prepared and laid out on silver buffet trays, for the guests to serve themselves from a variety of dishes provided by Big Joe's wife and Lisa.
Just like food at a wedding function there was a vast array of easy pickings like artichoke and cheese stuffed mushrooms and buffalo chicken wings. There was a whole assortment of luxury buffet style finger foods, hundreds of nacho stuffed potato skins and salmon salads, there was homemade buttermilk biscuits with honey ham. The variety seemed endless.
On the far right hand side of the room there was a marble fireplace that seemed as big as a sepulchre. In front the fireplace there was a bar that had been set up and was laden with different beverages. The music was coming from two, thousand watt P.A speakers that were wirelesy connected to a laptop inside and a further two speakers hey had set up in the back garden. A microphone was on the bar to amplify the voice of anyone who wanted to propose a toast and express their honour or goodwill. A projector was mounted on the right speaker that was pointing towards a white projection screen on the opposite side of the room.
Chairs and sofas were placed in designated areas inside and out near the gazebo. The lights were pretty dim and subtle for the time of day it was, and would have more of romantic feel on throughout the night. The atmosphere was good and relaxed. Everybody looked like they were having a good time and the music played on.
#
The hours passed like minutes and still no sign of Malone. Zed and Lisa were practicing the Lombard effect to enhance the audibility of their voices in order to hear each other over the dance music.
"Do you want to go up to my room babe, we can take a bath," Lisa yelled.
The music was pumping and Zed liked this idea. He was home. It had been a long time coming. He was horny and wasn't going to wait until after. "This is happening now," he thought.
In all the excitement he hadn't noticed Frankie and Big Joe had left the party. Lisa stood up and took Zed's hand and led the way upstairs into Lisa en-suite. Lisa had a big open room with a four poster bed against the wall, and a door that led into the bathroom on the far side.
"Looks the same," said Zed, observing his surroundings and looking around the room before he looked at Lisa. Her eyes were wide. "Your eyes are gorgeous," - he thought, -"Real bedroom eyes."
"I kept the room the way it was, I thought it would be weird for you if I changed it."
As Zed went to answer her, she put her finger up against his lips.
"Shuuush," she sounded.
She took him by the hand and walked him into her bathroom where she started to run them both a bath. "It's fucking quality," Zed thought.
For the past two years he had had nothing more than a quick and timed lukewarm wash in a men's shared shower block. He was heavily bearded which to Lisa made him look like a stranger compared to the man who had left for a holiday three years earlier.
She kissed him and they began hugging, touching each other's bodies like it was the first time they had ever been together. They were happy. He caressed her and in his embrace she felt wanted, she felt sexy. It was finally over. The wait, the panic, the upset. Every element of the last three years had come to an end. She finally had Zed back home. Back where she wanted him the most. Back in her loving arms. Back where he belonged. It was perfect. "This is heaven," she thought, as the bath was filling up. And as it did, Zed and Lisa undressed each other.
#
Big Joe and Frankie had vanished from the party while Zed and Lisa were still dancing. Inside, guests were enjoying themselves, mingling and tapping bottles, dancing to the music and congratulating each other on one another's successes and business ventures.
Big Joe and Frankie were outside in the garden office. A huge outdoor luxury insulated summer house that Big Joe had turned into his studio that doubled up as his office.
As he was finishing off a bottle of scotch to himself, him and Frankie discussed their business. Frankie was informing his boss all about the events of the day and how he was almost late to the airport because of a road accident.
He told Big Joe how frustrated he had been with the driver at the time. He touched on the subject of the airport, meeting Zed, the journey back and how Zed had seemed distant and untalkative the whole time. Frankie stopped when he reached the point of telling Joe about the last ten minutes in the taxi. He didn't know how to give an explanation that would achieve a degree of conscientiousness in his work as he didn't feel like his task had been performed thoroughly. Frankie sighed and began to give a brief account without allowing himself to be too vague.
"I had the taxi drop us off over by the tennis courts on Charlton Walk after you text me," Frankie said, "though Zed was acting funny, Umm...., Joe, he saw my pistol and fucking grabbed it, he-,"
"He did what?" Joe interrupted, sounding shocked.
"Yeah, he was scaring the driver with it and the guy seemed like someone else. Never seen him act that way. It was like he didn't think, but he knew what he was doing Joe."
"He didn't think last time either Frank, but he knew what he was doing then too. He didn't think I'd notice I was missing that money. He owes me, yet he thinks he can take the piss."
"You're right Joe," said Frankie, "Anyway, I talked him down. He gave it back, then we walked the rest of the way here. The guy acted like he had gone fucking crazy. Then outside here, he asked me if he was safe."
"And what was your answer Frank?" Joe said, slow and calm.
"What do you think. He's here ain't he?"
"Yeah, but let me get this straight, Zed took your weapon. Waved it around inside the taxi like a fucking madman, then gave it back and you brought him here?"
Frankie looked at his boss. He knew how dumb this sounded and he felt embarrassed.
"Yeah Joe, where else was I gonna take him huh?"
Big Joe sighed loudly.
"He used to be loyal, a slight embarrassment when drunk, but he was reliable, then he tried to humiliate me. He became a hwinassle."
"A fucking pain in the ass. Why'd you swap the location?"
"Better to keep the casino's and clubs open. If anything gets heard from there, the CCTV are linked to the feds and other official databases, and have facial recognition that any suspicious behaviour puts us all in an identity parade."
"Fucking welcome to Metropolitan London."
"Hmm, make no mistake Frank, I'm really fucking looking forward to him being gone."
"That's why I brought him here Joe. I mean, if he wasn't already fucked then what happened today would've been good cause in itself, but is here really a good place?"
"We won't get this on the system Frank. I've switched the camera's off for the night. Um so, you're cool doing the speech?" Joe said, calmly. Joe always spoke slowly and calmly.
"Ok, yeah. I really gotta say I felt like taking care him today then and there." Frankie said, in the same deep, monotone voice that he always did.
"Yeah I get that. The whole point of using a taxi was for discretion. So my vehicles wouldn't be connected with the pick-up."
"Yeah Joe, all morning I felt like I was standing out and attracting attention. First that fucking cab driver, then Zed. Both really tested my fucking patience."
"Frankie, that's why people like that need to be eliminated, and with everything we've taken into consideration, I've given the keys to the club to Ray so he can take everyone there early hours, but you might have to come to Jimmy's with Benny and me."
"Sure, I'm not worried. Another thing though Joe. After what Zed pulled, I paid the driver a grand."
Big Joe sighed heavily.
"Okay Frank. Start again. Tell me again what happened in the taxi. This time don't miss anything out. I want to hear it all. Everything that happens around this town is my business."
For the next thirty minutes Frankie disclosed every little bit of information sharing a full description about what happened after Zed had taken his gun. Having an obligation to uphold as part of his job meant that he should inform his boss of the circumstances with his accustomed perspicuity. He told Big Joe everything, down to the smallest detail including the taxi drivers name, which he struggled to remember. After all, It's inside the detail where the devil dwells, and Big Joe listened intently.
While the guests partied and Frankie talked. Zed and Lisa were making love.
The missing money
Week's before Zed had left England he had stolen money from one of Big Joe's casino's. He was almost positive that he had gotten away with it until just before he had left. One morning during breakfast Lisa had told him that Big Joe was looking into his casino workers as he had reason to believe that he had a thief in his staff. Zed hadn't said anything to Lisa about his involvement with the missing money. All he had asked her was how much did Big Joe think it was that was missing as he only wanted to know how much she knew. Fifty thousand she had told him.
At the time Big Joe didn't suspect anybody in particular all he knew was that he was sure the numbers didn't add up. What Big Joe had presumed at first was that it must be one of the dealers he had employed. Maybe someone he'd appointed at a gambling table. Big Joe was so sure it had to be that or a croupier, especially as they were in charge of the distribution of bets and pay outs.
Over the next half a year of his investigations he knew it wasn't Lisa who had taken it, or anybody else in his close circle. He secretly had people looking into them and keeping their eyes on them like a hawk. It wasn't them who thought they could play that sort of game without consequence. Though someone did. Big Joe spent hours interviewing his staff members to find the culprit. He was offering a tidy payment for any information that would further his investigations.
It wasn't until a few months after Zed had been sentenced that Big Joe had discovered some vital information while interviewing a young lady who worked as a cleaner at his casino Chips&Aces. Her name was Gloria Moreaux. Gloria worked the early mornings, between 7am and 8.30am. It was during one of her shift's when she had bumped into Zed. The Chips&&Aces, ‘being one of Big Joe's smaller casino's, had an opening time of 9am through to 3am and Zed knew he would've had access any night.
Zed had taken Lisa's key's one night and after scoping the place out to make sure all the staff had gone home he had let himself in. Zed knew the security code and it was a simple little earner he had decided to take for himself. What he hadn't planned on was bumping into Gloria. He gave a false name but he was still on camera. When Gloria had asked the nature of his presence, he had come up with the explanation that he had returned to collect his phone that he had left behind. Gloria believed him, and just as simple as gaining access, Zed had made a quick exit, with fifty thousand pounds of Big Joe's money.
Big Joe couldn't believe what he was hearing. Zed was a good employee and had good employment. He didn't need the extra cash. However, Big Joe had Gloria do her best to remember when this had taken place and bless the lady, she had nailed the month and she had the date out by one day. So when Big Joe looked at the old security footage that had been saved in the memory data of the security system, it didn't take him long before he was shouting Bingo. He was watching Zed in all his glory, and all thanks to Gloria, Big Joe thought, and Gloria was paid. What Big Joe couldn't see in the footage was, was this the entire fifty thousand in one, or had Zed been making repeated visits withdrawing small amounts at a time.
Big Joe had chosen to stay quiet. Frankie and Benny knew the truth but they all agreed to sit on the discovery. This new information wouldn't be shared with the rest of the crew or Malone's guys. Lisa wasn't to know and his wife was kept in the dark too. As far as everyone concerned was told, was the money hadn't been found yet. As soon as Big Joe no longer continued to mention anything, it seemed that everyone else quickly forgot about it. It was as if the problem had just disappeared.
For the next two years Big Joe had kept everyone in the dark about Zed and the missing money. Big Joe waited, hoping Zed didn't die in jail. He wanted him for himself. Zed had bumped him off, he had double dipped and pocketed double payment at least once, and half of London knew not to steal from Big Joe.
#
Upstairs in Lisa's bedroom, Lisa gave Zed a gun. A small Kel-Tec P-11 semi-automatic, short recoil pistol, which Zed accepted and quickly stuck down the back of his trousers and hid it underneath the back of his Jacket. He was clean shaven for the first time in eighteen months and had changed into a suit jacket and a clean shirt. He thanked Lisa for the pistol and clothing before deciding that he wanted another drink. Both him and Lisa were already drunk, as were most of the guests at the party.
They came downstairs, to the sound of The Killers song Jenny was a friend of mine. Somebody had changed the style of music which they felt the diversity had offered the environment a much more chilled atmosphere.
"I love The Killers," said Lisa, "we should dance!" Everyone was smiling and laughing as Zed noticed Frankie at the bar speaking with Benny. He looked around for Blake and told Lisa he wanted to find Hysum, as, as far as he could tell, Malone was still yet to arrive. Junior was also over by the bar speaking to Carl and Lee, while Hernandez was with Ray, Sarah and Steve on one of the sofas. Most of the other guests were around either dancing or interacting with people elsewhere.
Lisa went to get Zed a drink from the bar as The Killers track faded out and Taylor Swift's, Bad Blood began playing. Zed went to look for his friends and approached some girls standing by the food tables. One of the girls told Zed that Hysum had gone outside for a piss and that Blake was in the garden with Carley having a cigarette. Zed turned around as Lisa came back holding a bottle of lager for him.
"Want to dance?" she asked.
They made their way to the dancefloor. Zed and Lisa were holding each other talking when Big Joe came back into the room and met Benny and Frankie at the bar. Joe looked across at Junior and nodded smiling. Junior nodded back at him, then Big Joe looked away and began talking to Frankie.
"Time for speeches isn't it Frank?" Joe said as Stereophonics, The Bartender And The Thief was coming to an end.
"I'm gonna do it," Benny declared.
"That's fine. Let's get this show on the road. Have you told Larry, Frank?"
"And Ray," Frankie replied.
While they were dancing Lisa could see Big Joe and the others at the bar and Ray had recently joined them, Junior seemed oblivious to how Big Joe's eyes had turned serious and Benny's body language was giving off a vibe that Lisa couldn't exactly describe, all she could think was something was off.
She surveyed the scene, something was wrong, she could tell, things didn't add up. She looked at the people, how they were behaving, trying to figure out what they were hiding and how they were going to give themselves away.
At the same time, as they were together on the dancefloor, the song Arsonists Lullaby began playing. Lisa moved in closer to Zed and hugged him tightly, both swaying to the music.
"This song's beautiful, I love his voice," Lisa told him, closely speaking into his ear.
"And then there's the title," he replied.
"What does it mean?"
"It's the perspective that excuses behaviour that destroys not only the world around him, but himself. The words justify destructive behaviour and the title calls out the lies.
"Why is it a lullaby babe?"
"Because it's how the arsonist gets himself to sleep at night."
"People are acting strange," she said, as she hugged him tighter, but Zed either didn't hear her say it or he was purposely not answering but either way, he didn't respond. The same way that he didn't mention about the lyrics in the song they were dancing to reminded him of himself
and also what he had experienced. "I heard voices, some would sing and some would scream, you soon learn you have few choices, I learned the voices died with me."
He knew that for the most of his life he had been ruled by his demons and he knew that his sins were his alone.
They didn't notice Benny had left Frankie and Big Joe at the bar, or move with a swagger of youth over to the P.A system, where he picked up the microphone. They stopped dancing when Benny tapped it a couple of the times.
The hum of the live feedback came through the speaker, and crackled with distortion to static that made everyone stop what they were doing and turn towards him. Zed looked up at him as Benny leaned across the speakers and lowered the volume of the music before he straightened up again. Hoziers song about angels and demons quietly and changed into Kaleo, Way Down We Go, as Benny brought the microphone to his lips.
"Ahem, 1, 2, 1, 2.”
Everyone was now looking up at him and smiling with excitement, all ready to hang on every word the man had to say. This was Benny after all. People listening to him and liking it was always what Benny expected.
"That got every one's attention," Benny said through the microphone as he stepped in front of the speaker.
"So, it's good to see we're all in good humour and looking young, it's shame about Frankie. I think he brought another wrinkle as his plus one," Benny joked, "and we couldn't find a decent barber for Big Eagle over there,"- he said, pointing over at his bald headed boss, -"I did suggest he put on one of Amy's wigs tonight but, she didn't have one big enough," he coughed, waiting, expecting to people laugh, and while listening, right on cue and as if on purpose the guests listened and laughed as Benny continued his speech.
"Me and Zeddy boy were at the airport one time to pick up a friend. This stewardess approached Zed and asked him for the time and do you know what his reply was? Ahem,” he coughed, “he said, “not yet,” but if you give me your number I'll find the time, and I swear his flirting skills aint getting any better, just ask Lisa. Anyway,” he continued, “the stewardess walked-he blushed and his face went redder than a post box with a period."
Lisa cringed at this while everyone else laughed again at Benny’s poor humour, although most thought Benny's jokes weren't that funny, but they knew Benny to be a man who was step more crazy than he was mad, and that was on a good day. The man was like a ticking time bomb or was comparable to a hand grenade with the pin half out. The guest's knew that going along with his humour would be better than for Benny to take it personally if they didn't. Benny switched off the microphone and turned around, he placed the mic on top the right speaker then turned back around so he was facing the crowd again.
"Ahem,” Benny coughed, clearing his throat, “it’s really is good to see everyone here having a good time. Thanks for coming. This was all done for you Zed," he stated, turning his head, and speaking to Zed.
Zed looked back at him for a moment, he then turned away, hoping he’d see Hysum or Blake but they still hadn't come back in from outside, Junior was still at the bar with Carl, Frankie and Big Joe. Zed could hear the faint accent of Jake Bugg's, I've Seen It All coming out the speaker as Benny looked at him and continued his show for the audience.
"Zed, we know the last two years have been a nightmare for you. I know about the food, the starvation, the beatings. I know people who's lived that torment. It's nasty and it changes you. That said, there were some investigations while you were away and we spent a lot of time having to interview our staff. Your kind of story doesn't stay quiet for long Zed. You get me?"- Benny said, pausing, -"We know about the money and the shit stunt you pulled earlier today with Frank near here. What the fuck were you thinking, man? It's unacceptable,"
"What the fuck do you know Benny?" Zed shouted.
"I know too much about your dumb ass antics Zed. You gotta lay low,"- again, Benny paused, -"Then stay led," he said, as he drew his pistol, aiming it Zed.
Zed started feeling along the side of his trousers towards his weapon. At the bar, Carl had pulled out his revolver too and had it pressed against Junior's chest. Frankie started to walk towards Zed with Larry and Ray tailing behind. Junior was stunned. It all happened way too fast for him to react. From his side of the bar he was unable to see exactly what it was that was happening beyond the guests near the dancefloor. Benny and the others had just surrounded the couple, that's all he could tell. Amy was just as surprised as most of the guests and she decided to make her way over to her husband at the bar. She also decided to keep her mouth shut for the time being and wait to see if anything should be said. Lisa turned towards Big Joe who was still standing at the bar.
"Joe, what the fuck, what's going on?" she screamed.
"Quiet Lisa," Big Joe said, shifting his eyes to look passed her at Zed, who was still slowly reaching for his weapon.
"Zed, this can't happen any other way. You're a liability and you stole from me. I hope you had a good flight."
"And a good party," Benny added.
Zed looked to Frankie for help.
"Frankie, man don't let this ha-,"
"You brought this on yourself kid," Frankie said, interrupting.
Lisa was crying but she didn't move. Zed looked at Big Joe but the man didn't want to listen to anything that Zed had to say and he turned away, walking off to leave the room, taking Amy by the hand and they both left together.
"Gutless Joe" Zed thought.
"So I'm guessing-" Zed said.
"I don't want to guess with you," Benny remarked, moving in front the laptop where he pressed play before reaching towards the projector that was on the other speaker and clicking the on switch. A beam of light shot across the room illuminating the projector screen.
To Zed's horror, the screen suddenly came to life projecting an image of a younger version of himself. It was the night he had been to the casino and the security footage was full size and in view of everyone to see. Zed knew then, that this was all a set-up. He knew he had been found out and his first reaction was to look at Lisa who's eyes had swivelled between the projection screen and her boyfriend she was standing next to.
"What's this?" she asked, clearly confused, "babe."
"This is Zed, stealing fifty thousand from us Lisa," Benny said, not allowing Zed to reply and answering for him, "He stole your keys."
"I didn't know anything," Lisa yelled.
"We know you didn't," said Benny.
"So, you see, Zed," Frankie added, "at least you're drunk eh," he exclaimed, "Why did you have to be so fucking useless?"
Lisa didn't like Frankie's accusation or his rhetorical question and turned towards him.
"He's not fucking useless," she countered, shouting at Frankie.
She didn't realise her boyfriend was reaching for the pistol she had given him.
"You said I was safe Frank," Zed yelled, "Fuck you."
He quickly reached behind him to grab his weapon from the back of his trousers but Frankie, Larry, Ray and Benny were faster. His adversaries whipped their firearms up with speed and had taken aim on the couple before Zed had gripped the handle of his gun. Lisa moved towards him and tried to grab him.
He heard a loud crack and felt a sharp sting to his body, but he couldn't detect exactly where the pain was coming from. Lisa dived towards him. He noticed his far field of vision quickly come into focus as he watched Blake and Hysum come running into the party in what Zed thought was slow motion.
He tried to raise the gun. He saw red as the rest of Big Joe's crew drew their weapons on his friends. He heard a few more cracks as his hand loosened, but he didn't realise he had dropped his gun. The back ground was clear, his friends were disarmed and just as quick as the background had come into focus, it rapidly changed to the opposite.
A sharp pain jolted up his chest and he knew his back hurt. He saw the four men in front of him disappear as his vision blurred.
He had fear.
He felt pain.
He heard another crack as he fell to the floor. He tried to get up. A thought that he'd survived went through his mind, -"I've survived', I better tell Lisa, when I'm home, she'll be worried'"- he thought as the feeling in his legs vanished. His right arm was numb. The pain of his wounds died off as his head bent to the side and saw Lisa lying there staring back at hin through her dead eyes.
Just as Zed was standing at the thresh hold of his death, his life had never been more clear. As he was laying there, Zed knew he had waited for this exact moment to truly appreciate who the love of his life had been. Then, there in a pool of his and Lisa's blood, Zed closed his eyes for the last time.
#
Carl took his gun off Junior and Junior punched him in the jaw. Hysum and Blake pushed their retainers to the side. All three men dashed towards Zed and Lisa's dead bodies. Once near the dancefloor, Junior turned to Frankie and said, "What is this Frank,"- he said, moving his eyes from Frankie to Benny, -"why'd you kill them?"
"Weren't you listening boy?" answered Benny.
"Don't you think we should've known about this Frank," said Junior, "or are you guys running all the fucking shots now?"
"You weren't told because you would've warned him."
"Too fucking right I would've warned him. Don't you realise...," Junior trailed off, "I mean, do you actually fucking understand what just happened here Frank?"
"Yes kid," said Frankie, in a loud and monotone voice.
"No, I don't think you fucking do understand Frank," Junior said, his voice high-pitched and effeminate, "I really doubt any of you actually understand what the fuck just happened. Do you know why?"
"For fuck sake Junior. Spit it the fuck out boy!"
"Because It's nothing to do with Zed you fucking idiot. It's Lisa. She's Caroline's niece. You know that."
"Oh, fuck Caroline," Benny uttered under his breath.
Junior stepped forward towards Benny at the same time as Ray picked up Zed's hand gun and went and sat at the bar, putting down the pistol and looked away towards junior.
Junior was still looking at Benny, "What was that," he asked, simply and expecting a straight answer. Benny moved towards him gripping his pistol, "I said fuck Caroline and fuck Lisa, fuck Malone and fuck you," he replied, fiercely while maintaining an air of arrogance, "So all three of you get the fuck out now,"
Junior stopped and looked at Hysum when Frankie grabbed Benny's arm.
"Joe want's business to resume as normal, Junior," Frankie reported, turning to face Junior.
"No Frank, it can't," Junior replied, "it's personal,"
"Oh, for fuck sake Junior, this ain't personal. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You don't fucking get it do you Frank, you've fucked with blood man," Junior responded, "there's a line you don't cross and you just crossed it. You've gone and started a war."
"Oh, fuck off Junior," Frankie declared.
Frankie was looking at Junior and snickered. He watched Junior move slowly backwards towards the door. Hysum and Blake did the same. They all met at the entrance to the reception room and quickly left, leaving Big Joe's crew to clean up the mess. They made their way to the front of the house and exited.
Junior wished they had parked closer to the house, but so the party could remain a surprise, he had been instructed to park outside the main gates and to leave the vehicle somewhere it wouldn't be seen by Zed upon his and Frankie's arrival.
The three of them made their way to Junior's white BMW 3 series, that was parked half a mile away. Once inside the vehicle, Junior started the engine then drove the nine mile journey back home where he hoped his father would be. He knew his dad's wife would be devastated by the death of her niece, though Caroline was a strong woman. She wouldn't show her emotions outwardly, not to the crew anyway. She would choose to remain calm and calculated while pursuing her decisions. She would want answers and she would expect someone to be held accountable for the tragedy that befell her niece.
Malone and Caroline had always had each other's backs, always supported one another's needs and understood the ideas of their significant other. It wouldn't be any different now than it had ever been and Junior was certain of it.
His father was a certain man also. Certain in himself, certain about his wife, and Caroline was certain in herself and about the same things as her husband. Caroline was indeed going to want someone to be held responsible for Lisa's death, and Malone would guarantee that is exactly what his wife would have.
-Chapter Seven-
Junior, Hysum and Blake arrived home not long after. They parked up outside the house and went inside. Malone and Caroline were sat in the dining room where they were eating up at the table. Malone was surprised to hear the door and to see the guys home earlier than he'd expected. By the look of shock and worry on his son's face, Malone knew right away that whatever had happened, he wasn't going to want to hear it.
"What's happened," he asked Junior directly, before his son could sit down. Both Malone and Caroline rested their cutlery on their plates.
"They killed Lisa, and Zed too," answered Junior.
"What,"- yelled Caroline, slamming her fist on the table, -"how?"
"They shot them both."
"Why?" asked Caroline.
"It seemed like a set-up," Hysum added, looking at her. Junior continued to tell them what had happened over at Big Joe's. He started by explaining to Caroline how he thought he'd seen Lisa jump in front of her boyfriend after the shooting had started. He told them how Benny had said about finding evidence that proved Zed was guilty of taking the fifty grand before he went to China, and how Benny had projected the security footage that placed Zed inside the 'Chips&Aces' on the night it was taken.
Blake told them how Benny and Frankie had also accused Zed of being a liability because of something that had happened with Frankie earlier on in the day. He explained to Malone about them blaming Zed for the missing money because they had spent months investigating it's disappearance and eventually, all angles had led back to Zed.
Junior told them everything he had heard and seen. He told them how Big Joe's crew had surrounded the pair, and how Big Joe had left the room after dismissing Lisa's pleas or not considering Lisa's safety as his men were allowed to gun them both down. Junior added that he thought Zed may have had a gun and had gone for it, but he couldn't be positive as it hadn't been the best view from where he was at the bar, especially while Carl was holding him at gun point.
Malone asked Hysum and Blake what they had seen, and they both confirmed that they were outside and were not present the entire time, and had rushed inside due to hearing gun fire. They said they also couldn't be sure if Zed had pulled a gun, however, the amount they could see was synonymous with what Junior had already told them.
Blake finished their account by informing Malone that Junior had announced that the actions of Big Joe and his guys had been an act of war and that business was not going to resume as normal. Caroline smiled at this. Malone had taken the news as well as he could. However, Caroline may have felt happy in her approval of her stepsons judgement, she was still far more angry. She told Junior that Billy and Dwayne were upstairs with the girls and asked him to go and tell them they were wanted downstairs. She wanted Junior to ask them all to come down.
#
Junior went upstairs and knocked Billy's door but there was no answer. Hysum had gone with him, leaving Blake with Malone and Caroline. Billy and Zoe were inside Billy's room making love. Junior was sure of it, he could hear the sound of what he believed to be Zoe's sexual moaning. Junior knocked again and Billy still didn't respond.
Zoe wasn't Billy's girlfriend. This was the first time they had been together. It was Dwayne and Margaret who were the love birds. Junior didn't understand what had happened that day for it to develop into what he knew was happening on the other side of the door, but he wasn't happy.
He liked Zoe, he just hadn't yet made the first move, though it seemed Billy had. What if Billy hadn't and it was actually Zoe who had acted on her own desire, Junior thought. He couldn't let this get to him right now, he just had to interrupt them and bring everyone downstairs. He knocked again and this time Hysum grabbed the door handle, and quietly he slowly pushed the door wide open.
Billy had a couch pushed up against the side wall of his room. On his couch, Zoe laid there naked with Billy on top of her. Zoe's legs were in the air and she moaned with pleasure each time Billy pushed against her. The heavy breathing and her sounds of, "Ooooh," "Aaahhh," and, "Yessss, oh god right there," seemed loud and a lot louder inside the room than they had been from the outside and Junior thought Zoe appeared to be a natural born moaner who had no worries that maybe she were a little too loud. Billy on the other hand was the more reserved lover and up until now probably swore people only made sounds in porn.
Billy had his arms around Zoe gripping her body tight. Billy thrust himself against her once more and said, "yess ,I'm gonna cum," as Hysum faked a cough. Billy jumped up.
"Oh, God," Zoe said, in a completely different tone of voice than the "oh god, yes," that Junior had heard from outside the room. Billy was stood by the couch looking at Junior and Hysum still stood in the doorway. Where Billy's dick had been hard the phallic was now beginning to loosen and a droplet of his semen fell on to the carpet.
"What the fuck," Billy said, looking at them both. Junior wasn't looking at Billy, instead he was looking at Zoe.
"How long have you been standing there Junior?" asked Billy.
"Long enough," replied Junior.
Zoe got up and looked at Junior who looked like he was admiring her naked body. Zoe liked the thought of him enjoying her body and walked towards Billy's bed where her clothes were scrambled on the floor.
Junior watched her every movement as Hysum turned around and walked towards Dwayne's room. Junior told Billy he was wanted downstairs and left the room. He went to meet Hysum in Dwayne's room. Billy and Zoe got dressed and they said very little to each other about the sex or anything else. Billy lit a cigarette and sat back down on the couch while Zoe sat on his bed and waited.
#
Hysum knocked Dwayne's door twice and Dwayne answered by asking who it was from inside the room.
"It's Hysum."
Dwayne told him to come in. Dwayne and Margaret were led on the bed watching a movie and relaxing so Hysum stepped in. A moment later Junior was there and told Dwayne that something had happened at the party and it wasn't good. He told them his dad and Caroline wanted a meeting down in the dining room and that they had asked him to come upstairs and get them.
Junior didn't mention anything about Billy and Zoe. He thought perhaps Dwayne already knew something or he and Margret may have heard them next door as their bedrooms were connected. Dwayne stretched his arms over his head and got up from the bed and Margaret did the same. He told Junior they would be right down. The couple put on their shoes as Junior and Hysum left them to it and headed back downstairs.
A few minutes later Billy, Dwayne, Margaret and Zoe were ready and made their way downstairs. Junior couldn't stop thinking about Zoe and how good she looked naked. He wanted her even more now than he had ever before. He sensed a hint of envy in his thoughts as he realised that for the first time ever, even only for a second that, he wished he was someone else, "Billy" Junior thought, "I'm not supposed to want to be you."
#
Malone, Caroline and Blake had been briefly discussing the situation while waiting for the others. Caroline was adamant she wanted Big Joe and Frankie to be held accountable for what had happened to Lisa. Through her determination she had made a good case and a lot of valid points to back up her reasoning.
It wasn't through upset, grief or anger why she wanted what she did and she didn't feel like her niece had been taken for a fool. She didn't feel contempt for the connection her family had with Big Joe either as the relationship up until now had always worked for both sides of the association.
She knew the link between the two groups was a strong bond and what that meant to her wasn't just a personal engagement. This wasn't only a formally recognised union between two groups, this was business and the principle of business to Caroline meant both groups were obligated to commit themselves to certain responsibilities.
Both sides had significant influence and had agreed to take part in the operations and decision making in every situation that involved both groups. After all, this was a business entity which herself, along with her husband and Big Joe, had built together and protected. It was their baby and it was supposed to have been looked after as such.
She didn't like thinking that the loyalty between Big Joe and her husband was in question, she wanted things to be resolved without further injury to lives or business, but Caroline was a realist and hand on heart, she knew she could no longer trust Big Joe. Her stomach and mind both agreed on that. He had crossed the line, he had gone too far and she was disappointed.
This personal matter of the principals of their business engagement meant no matter what proposals were made next, their business relationship was now terminated.
#
The nine of them sat around the dining room table and discussed their position in more in depth. They listened to Caroline's thoughts on the subject and all agreed that she was correct on her declarations. Malone's synopsis was a run down version of his wives, and the others were more than happy to comply with whatever Malone chose to do.
Caroline also agreed with Junior that Big Joe's decision to kill Lisa and Zed did indeed represent an initiation of war and therefore she felt it should be dealt with in a sternly and thorough manner. She would resolutely refuse to be anything but fierce when it came to putting an end to Big Joe's arrogant behaviour.
Zoe and Hysum thought Lisa to be too young to of had to witness her own mortality and they all concurred with Blake when he said "At least Big Joe and Frankie would be paying the high price for Lisa's destiny which they had created'." Hysum looked at Blake and told him he second that opinion and said "Those fuckers would die and even the bitches who lay in bed with them."
Caroline and her husband didn't want to put their friends in any danger but Dwayne reminded them that, not only were they their employees and friends, they were also family, even when Billy commented that his opinion was that he didn't share Hysum enthusiasm about, "The bitches who lay in bed them," "but, never the less, I'm with you," he had said.
The group sat at the table a while longer further discussing their thoughts to make sure everything was being taken into consideration. All what was left to do now was to devise a plan.
#
After the meeting most of the group had gone to their bedrooms. The events of the day had been exhausting for some and overwhelming for others. They needed their rest. The strategy had been planned. They knew what to do. It was now time to sleep.
Junior and Billy were still awake in the living room where the television was on playing old sitcoms neither were really interested in watching. Junior was still thinking about Zoe. He couldn't understand the connection between her and Billy.
Zoe was more outgoing than Billy, she was independently diverse, a strong self-reliant woman. For sure she could make up her own mind on the things she wanted to do, she had it all. The looks, the body, personality. She was intelligent and self-aware, she had a sense of humour and she had heart but Junior didn't know if she had feelings for Billy and vice versa, and not knowing had begun messing with his head.
When did the attraction start he wondered. To what extent was her feelings for Billy. Was it pure emotion or lust or both. How did Billy turn her on. Junior had so many questions for Billy, he didn't know where to start. It was clear their arousal was mutual just like their attraction was and Junior wondered if he could accept the relationship between the two.
Junior had never been the jealous type but right now he was feeling it. He couldn't trust himself around Billy if it turned out that Zoe was in love with him. He had to ask Billy something. He had to talk to the man if he wanted to find out the truth behind their desire for one another.
Junior looked at Billy, this was it, Billy was gonna shed some light upon Junior's unbearably intrusive thoughts.
"Hey, Bill, so was Zoe any good," Junior asked. His voice almost breaking up when the words came out.
"For an ex whore mate, I would think she should be."
Junior wasn't expecting this answer. He knew a bit about Zoe's past, but if Billy did have genuine feelings for her then by giving an answer as crude as that wasn't exactly respectful, he thought.
"Seriously!" stated Junior, "are you two together now or something?"
"Or something. Why, do you like her?"
"You two haven't seemed bothered with each other before!"
"Really Junior, you walk in on us fucking and now you're asking what she's like, and if there's more to it?"
Billy was staring at Junior like he was enjoying the man asking questions he wasn't to be given straight answers for.
"Listen man, it was fun yeah. She's an ex whore. She's had the practice!"
"That's not what I mean Bill."
"Yes, it is. You also want to know if we're together now. It's not just you being chatty Junior. You fucking like her don't you?"
"Kind of. I think sh-"
"Bullshit kind of," Billy interrupted, "You like her more than I do. Look, this is how it is. That girl has more baggage than Julia Roberts at an airport, so if you like her that way, then make a move and see what happens."
"See what happens?"
"I ain't spelling it out for you man. Ah, Fuck it. I'm going to bed. In the meantime, try not to worry."
Zoe
Zoe was the victim of childhood sexual abuse by her father and her uncle. Her mother had died after paranoid schizophrenia had seen her hospitalised where subsequently her disorder had led her to suicide when Zoe was still a child. After that she had been left alone with only her father to raise her. That is when her abuse began.
As a teenager she remembered the nights when she was too afraid to go to sleep as by then it had become a usual habit for her father to enter her room while she slept and would wake her up by climbing into her bed with her. She remembered his heavy breathing and the rotten smell of his breath. That went on for six months before he had started doing things during the day.
She had been too young at first to fully understand she was being abused. She had never heard the word, abuse. All she knew was that her father would call it "her duty," and she didn't know what that really meant either but how could it be bad, because after all, this was her dad? The man that was supposed to love and protect her.
It wasn't until her uncle started playing animals in the woods with her where they'd both remove their clothes and crawl around in the leaves naked before he would touch her in the same places her father would, that Zoe had started to think different. That and the fact he didn't call it her duty. Now it was "their secret." Zoe didn't like their secret. But she did understand what the word secret meant. It meant other people aren’t allowed to know.
Her father was expected to take weekly meetings with the local family welfare agency. So when he had failed to comply with these rules, the social services had removed Zoe from his parental rights and had placed her into care.
Zoe had run away from that accommodation where she found herself homeless. It was there on the streets where she had found drugs and it was the drugs why she had first needed to sell herself. The streets became her home, her drug habit was her escape and prostitution gave her the affordability.
Life became a viscous circle for Zoe and she carried her life's baggage around with her. She hadn't become anything yet. She was standing still, knee deep in a street trench, hollowed out and surrounded by darkness, until she had a chance meeting with Lisa that is.
It had been Lisa who had gotten her a job at the casino and club she worked in. Zoe happily accepted the job knowing it was the first break from street life she had ever had. She was desperate for something more and eventually Lisa had taken Zoe to her boyfriend Zed's.
It was there when Zoe had first met Junior who then introduced her to the rest of his family and given her a home. It was the only time in Zoe's life that she had ever felt welcome and part of something special, especially Junior, she always had a soft spot for Junior.
-Chapter Eight-
Amy Eagle and Mike Walters
Tall, handsome and rich was the way Amy liked her men and Mike was the good looking affluent type. A wealthy businessman with an expensive taste that meant where ever he was in the world he showed interest in cost worthy things such as clothes and shoes, home decorations and vehicles.
Mike was one of those individuals who appreciated the finer things in life. He liked money and money bought Mike his happiness. He also liked women. The type of women who like cars. He was the owner of a variety of independent luxury car dealerships in some excellent locations of London's upscale boroughs.
He had showrooms in Mayfair that offered a top range of the world's most prestige super cars. He had saloons in Westminster and Uxbridge where his facilities stocked premium marques such as Rolls Royce, Bentley's and McLaren’s. A few of his dealerships were some of the leading specialists in UK automobiles. That is how he had met Amy. She too had a taste for the better things, enjoying the comfort of high-end deluxe sports cars she was always a frequent client of men like Mike, and like Mike, Amy's taste was also expensive.
When Amy had visited one of his work shop's one morning in search of somewhere that specialised in desirable custom products, it wasn't only her Aston Martin that Mike wanted be underneath and he was inclined to make Amy fully appreciate the potential with a driving passion.
Amy had taken a liking to Mike right away and following a lunch date to discuss business, pleasure began to replace the reason why they spent time together in the first place. That is how their affair had begun.
His money wasn't what she was interested in. She had money. It was Mike's beautiful machines that Amy liked at first. That and his charming personality that once she had gotten closer had made her fall in love with him.
Even though cheap wasn't his defining trait, it all started with Mike giving Amy the attention she craved by taking her out for special lunch dates at the best restaurants in London. His ability to listen to her, understanding her wants and needs and remembering what he had been told was something Amy had never before found in man and Mike found it important to take interest, considering many facets of communicating with Amy, that she found it extremely easy to talk to and confide in him.
If they weren't eating out they'd be enjoying the pleasures of scenery. Mike would take Amy drives out in the countryside, bringing with him Harrods picnic baskets with the best foods and champagne money could buy, and it on one of those dates where they had first kissed, a kiss Amy would never forget.
Then came the smaller inexpensive gifts. Mike would give Amy a single red rose each time they met and often a Cosmopolitan magazine for her to read at the times they couldn't meet. It was smaller things that counted to Amy. She thought Mike was a gentleman. She had fun spending time with him, it was a relationship she had never experienced, and then came the passionate love making.
Just the simple things, from secret rendezvous to small gestures of love to provide the consistency, and remain making the best of their secret dates.
Amy wasn't a stranger to secret dates, in fact Amy wasn't a stranger to secret anything. She liked having secrets from Big Joe.
She enjoyed the lies and the double life she could live by keeping certain truths hidden from her husband. She was addicted to the deceit and dishonesty, and the thrill of it gave her a rush. Cheating was her drug and Mike was her enabler who gave her the fix she required.
She had always wanted her own collection of fast and newly specialised vehicles. Nothing old, nothing standard. She liked the fact they were both superficial. She was a conceited woman and it would be her vanity that would get her in the end.
-Chapter Nine-
The party was over and some of the guests had dispersed. Now, two corpses needed to be disposed of, and the people who were still at Big Joe's place were the best people for the job, and they were working on it. Louis, Steve and Ray had begun to wrap the bodies in thick plastic sheeting, along with Carly and Sarah, while Amy and Larry were clearing the food off the tables. Hernandez, Frankie and Big Joe were sat inside the garden office discussing the body disposal while Carl and Lee went to collect their truck which was parked out of sight of the house.
They drove up the drive way and reversed the truck into the double garage that was integrated on to the side of the house. From inside, Benny had pressed the button on the small remote control unit that had been installed on the interior wall, that when pressed, operated the electrical mechanism that automatically opened the garage doors, ready for the truck, so all they had to do was drive in. Once they had parked the truck, Benny electronically closed the doors again.
Louis and Steve were ready with the bodies and quickly carried the corpse's through the person door into the garage where they put the bodies in the cargo bed of Hernandez' silver double cab Fiat Fullback and then pulled across the tonneau cover so that the bodies were concealed.
Hernandez, Frankie and Big Joe returned to the reception room after they had finished discussing their ideas. Big Joe had decided earlier that he should leave with Hernandez and take Frankie and Benny along with him. He told Amy he would be out most of the night and usually when her husband told her this, it meant she wouldn't see him until the next day.
Before leaving, Big Joe wanted a last minute talk with his crew about what he wanted them to do while he was out. He told Carley and Sarah they could stay to keep Amy company, before everyone went to the club that he had given Ray the keys to open, however, Amy didn't feel like hanging with the girls that night, she said she was tired and wanted to go straight to bed. Besides, Amy had her own plans for the night.
Next Big Joe spoke to Ray and Larry who were sat at the bar having a drink next to where Zed's Kel-Tec pistol was still positioned. They stood up and gave Joe their full attention as Carley came over to clean the bar with Amy and without thinking Carley had picked up the Kel-Tec and put it onto the shelf underneath the bar where it was safe and out of sight.
Big Joe instructed Ray and Larry to clean things up and take care of the mess while he was gone. Along with Louis and Steve, who were still in the garage with Lee and Carl, their job's, in the order of which their boss had asked, were to first put away the tables and chairs back into the garden room with the P.A equipment. The garden room was an extravagant version of a garden shed for the rich and elegant, - which was attached to Big Joe's insulated garden office.
Then when that was done they were to clean the blood off the wooden floor, retrieve the scattered bullet casings and generally sanitise the entire area, and if needed, they were to replace the flooring first thing in the morning as it was probably going to be a case that the wooden flooring would remain stained indefinitely. They could leave Big Joe's when it didn't fully look like a crime scene any longer.
Big Joe hadn't thought there would be as much gun fire as there had been. It was supposed to have gone a lot smoother than it had, although he hadn't planned for Zed to be armed. He hadn't accounted for that. That was how Lisa had been killed. Accidental collateral damage. A victim of her boyfriend's eager attempt to prolong the inevitable. Though a casualty of innocence is still a casualty. Now it was a double homicide to clear up. Good job Hernandez had his connections with the local scrap yards and auto crushers, along with the basement he had at his place.
The plan was to closely follow behind Hernandez' truck that Carl would be driving and make their way to Hernandez' where they'd remove the bodies from the pick-up and carry them down to the basement where they'd stay overnight, so that tomorrow Lee and Carl could transport them across town to be crushed inside a scrap vehicle, then buried somewhere off site.
The latter part of the plan wasn't need to know information, which Big Joe and Hernandez weren't only familiar with, but also they preferred it that way. Once the car and the bodies had been through the crusher the companies could go the separate ways. Until the next time they needed their exclusive service.
Big Joe, Frankie and Benny left the house at the same time as Hernandez and his boys. They followed the truck in Big Joe's black four seater BMW i8 and drove to Hernandez' place that was located near the Camden border with South London.
The journey there was quiet and uneventful. It wasn't the first time these guys had made this type of journey across town, and unfortunately for some sorry assholes, neither would it be the last.
#
Once the six of them had arrived at Hernandez' Carl pulled up along the side of the house and Benny pulled up behind them in the BMW. Both drivers switched off their engines. They all sat in silence, listening to their surroundings and occasionally checking their mirrors while they allowed a few seconds to pass by.
The street was quiet, save for the odd vehicle that happened to drive by them irregularly and the sound of some car horns beeping somewhere far off in the distance.
The night was warm, the midnight blue sky was starless and cloudless. The only light was the glimmer haze of club and casino lights that combined with a few thousand vehicles and street light's throughout the cities suburbs, that shone their yellowish amber rays upwards semi illuminating the darkness.
Benny was the first to leave the car. He got out and walked around to the truck where he lent himself on the rear of the pick-up. Big Joe was feeling drunk after the scotch he had finished earlier on that night. Out of the six of them it was only Frankie and Carl who remained sober.
Hernandez stepped out from his truck and walked up to his front door while Carl and Lee exited the truck closing both doors quietly by using the door handles. They stood by Benny, all three of them casually kept their eyes on the streets, they knew that, even at night, with low visibility and after a few drinks, they'd have the vigilance to spot any movement close by.
Big Joe and Frankie were the last to move. They disembarked the car and followed Hernandez in to his house, leaving the other three outside. Benny looked at Carl and nodded, indicating that now was a good time to roll back the tonneau cover and get on with the job. The three of them worked fast with swift efficiency and had finished the task within a few minutes of arriving. Big Joe and Hernandez were in the kitchen. Hernandez offered Big Joe a whiskey which the boss man accepted, he wasn't heading home any time soon, he wanted to relax and have a few drinks with his buddies before he returned. He knew he wasn't going to be out all night as he needed Hernandez's boys awake early as they had work to do, so Big Joe thought a few drinks and then head home in a few hours.
They sat there for the next few hours laughing and joking and not once did any one mention Malone or the other crew. No feuds were talked about and nobody brought up anything about Zed. It was like what was going on wasn't really happening at all. The guys were talking among themselves when Big Joe realised the time was getting on. It was almost 3am and he was feeling tired. He told the others he was calling it a night and Frankie and Benny agreed and got ready to go.
They finished their drinks before Big Joe looked at Hernandez. He told him he would speak to him tomorrow and to let him know when their business was completed. That last statement concluded their business for the day. Or that's what they thought. Then Big Joe headed home.
#
Amy had watched her husband drive away from their house that night following Hernandez' pick-up truck. She knew what they were doing as he had taken Benny and Frankie with him. The rest of the crew was still downstairs in the party room taking care of whatever it was that Big Joe had left them there to do. Probably cleaning up his mess she presumed. The crew being left in the house didn't worry Amy, after all this was her home and it was a big house. The girls had already left, so other than the guys working in the party room, Amy had the rest of the house to herself.
#
Located on a sought after private road, in Hendon their property was a beautiful seven thousand square foot family house, originally built in 1908, culminating a stunning 'country' home feel. The house had seven bedrooms spread over the first and second floors. The first floor had the master suite with dressing room and a luxuriously fitted bathroom, two additional bedrooms both with en- suite bathrooms, and a home office that Joe had turned into another closet/wardrobe for Amy's vast collection of shoes and clothes.
On the second floor there was a another sitting room, two further en-suites and a shower room.
The lower ground floor benefited from a home gym, shower room and a wine cellar.
The spacious entrance hall, led past a spectacular bespoke staircase custom-made in a Dickensian foundry where every spindle was cast individually. At the bottom of the staircase there was the large hallway that began on the right. The hallway housed the entrances into the kitchen and dining/reception room and a study room.
Their cosy living room was next door to the reception room with a walk through entrance, Amy and Big Joe used to sit and relax together in the sitting room at night on the sofa's, watching the big screen television that Big Joe had bought home two years earlier. The living room wasn't used much these days, now that Amy and Big Joe's relationship didn't feel the same to her any longer. Big Joe didn't show many signs that he knew his wife felt that way. Although he did. With business and work consuming all hours and his schedule being as tight as it was, taking up so much of his time, the two of them had grown distant pretty fast.
The reception room was also attached to the kitchen. It was supposed to be the dining room however it worked better as a decent size hall where the couple held gatherings and social events such as Zed's return party. Usually it would have their dining room table and chairs in there. Not that they really ever ate together any more.
In addition the kitchen had been designed with a walk in fridge that was easily big enough for more than a family. If they wanted to, they could hire kitchen staff to work the days preparing meals and serving the finest of menu's but they never wanted their own chef or servants.
On the far end of the hallway was where the person door stood. A solid oak fire door that dead bolted and was alarmed from the inside that gave access from the house into their integral double garage.
There was the utility room along the hallway closer to the front door that the couple used as a sort of closet for theirs and their guests foot wear and coats. From the front door the utility room was located on the left hand side.
The principal reception room and living area had French doors that were carefully designed so that the light open plan space of both rooms connected perfectly with the rear garden where Big Joe's office was. The garden was gigantic and that's also where Big Joe's Dobermans kennels were. The Doberman kennels were six feet high, twenty metre by twenty metre timber and galvanized steel panel constructions they had built for housing and runs. Joe's devoted guard dogs were the pride and joy of his hobbies. He had a soft spot and a kind nature for dogs. He was as an assured dog breeder, and Doberman Pinschers were his breed of choice.
#
Amy's Husband's guard dogs were well-trained, intelligently alert and loyal companions. Far more loyal than she was. Amy didn't care about her husband's dogs or crew or what they were doing downstairs any more than she cared about her husband's other operations. To her, his dogs were mutts, and his crew were a bunch of imbeciles. She didn't think the men were dopey or plain knuckleheads, but to Amy, they were just employed thugs and idiots who worked for her moron husband. That is why Amy had watched them drive away.
Usually when her husband left with his right and left hand men, meant one thing, and that was, he was going to be out all night drinking, or on a business trip that wasn't going to be just a 'there and back' quick journey. She had presumed he wasn't going to be returning home until morning.
That gave Amy the rest of the night to see Mike. She had text him before Big Joe had left and wanted him to go over to the house. Mike had agreed and was on his way. No time like the present Amy thought to herself while she waited with anticipation for Mike to text her, telling her he was parked up somewhere close.
Amy's plan was for Mike to walk up to the house and straight through the front door. She knew all she had to do was open and close the gates then erase the security footage the next day, and no one would ever find out. She didn't know that her husband had turned the cameras off for the night.
She would tell her husband that it was her initiative to delete the recordings of the previous night, as the footage could be used as evidence against them if any questions were asked about the disappearance of either Zed or Lisa.
She wasn't stupid, lies were her life, and really she knew full well, that nothing would be traced back to the house and link their involvement to any crime. That's just what she would tell her husband, and that's what would've happened.
When Mike arrived at the house. Amy had left the front door unlocked. In the party room Larry, Ray, Louis and Steve were hard at work and if they knew that Amy was sneaking her boyfriend into the house they gave no indication. There weren't any eyes pinned on Amy. Everything seemed so calm and smooth, Amy thought the plan was right on track, she controlled this situation, though she didn't realise it was so fucked up.
She was drunk and definitely not thinking wisely. She didn't know how close she was to losing it all. She would say it was because of a simple love story, but in the end love is a good enough reason for everything to full apart.
#
Frankie pulled up at the gates outside Big Joe's. There wasn't much point in pressing the buzzer, or using the keypad. Using the buzzer would only create unnecessary noise in the house and wake Amy up, and he didn't want to disturb her. He didn't need to activate the gates using the keypad as Big Joe had the remote key, so they unlocked the gates from the car and drove on up to the house.
From the master bedroom Amy didn't hear the garage doors open or close, nor did she hear Frankie park the car, or hear her husband, Frankie and Benny enter the house through the integral door. She was with Mike, and they were only paying attention to each other and ignoring what was happening downstairs. They hadn't even heard the clean-up crew finish their jobs and leave the house. As far as Amy was aware, was the crew were still hard at work and making their own noise downstairs in the reception room that they would remain oblivious to anything that could be going on through the rest of the house. She didn't realise that the only sound in the house at the time her husband returned was Mike's and her own.
The three men entered the house quietly realising there wasn't any lights on downstairs and it was dark, that meant the crew must have finished what they stayed to do and had turned everything off before leaving for the club.
No one spoke, and Big Joe noticed that there was a dim light coming from the top of the staircase, he assumed that Amy must have forgotten to switch off one of the landing lights before settling down in bed. He flicked on the hallway light before moving forward towards the bottom of the stairs to switch off the upstairs light.
At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and looked up to the first floor. He thought he could hear something faint coming from somewhere upstairs. The sound was unusual to him although familiar. Frankie looked at him oddly and approached alongside him and heard the noise too. Both men stood there and looked at each other listening to the suspicious sounds from above. Still no one spoke, and in the downstairs silence of the hallway, they suddenly heard some banging, and then the obvious sound of a man's grunting came from an upstairs bedroom.
That told Big Joe everything as he launched forward and ran up the stairs taking three steps at a time. He reached the top and looked around, his head jerked quickly from left to right, his nostrils flared and his face was red and angry. Frankie and Benny arrived on the first floor behind him. Benny could see that his boss was extremely angry, and Frankie tried to grab his shoulder but missed as Big Joe took another step closer to the door. He looked at his closed bedroom door through his crazy eyes. The sound of whispers came from the room and he heard the sound of scuttling movement from behind the door. He heard a smash, something had fallen. He knew what he was going to find in there, though nothing was stopping Big Joe as he burst through the door into his bedroom.
#
Amy was bent over her dressing table being fucked from behind by Mike. They were naked, the bed sheets were in a mess, and the duvet was hanging half over the side of the bed and resting on the floor. It had only been a few minutes since she had led on the bed biting down on her pillow after telling Mike to fuck her. He had done exactly that before he had flipped her over on to all fours and began taking her from behind. Amy had loved it, and that's why she had quickly crawled off the end of the bed, grabbing Mike by the hand, and led him across the room where she had bent over the table, clearly wanting Mike to fuck her hard in the same way as he had done on the bed, only stood up. That's what had happened. It was then when they heard the heavy footsteps stamping up the stairs.
Shocked and stunned, Amy and Mike stood in the bedroom motionless, unable to move or act, looking at each other before looking at the door. Amy looked down at her night-dress which was near the bed and next to Mike's clothes that were laying on the floor. Mike's eyes followed the direction which Amy's head had moved, and then, at the same time, they both made a dash towards their clothes.
"It's Joe," Amy whispered.
"Where's my pants?" Mike whispered back.
"Fuck, what are we gonna do, he'll kill us!"
They both jumped, as one of Amy's perfume bottles rolled off the side of her dressing table and smashed when it landed on top of another bottle. The smash scared Amy, her reaction was to look towards the smash, then, just as quick, she looked away and looked back towards the bedroom door at the right moment to see it swing open.
Her husband hadn't stopped at the open door, instead, Big Joe had charged through the entrance, and before Amy could think, her husband had taken hold of Mike by the throat.
"I'll kill you!" he said, roaring at Mike while he held him with his big, thick-skinned hands. He was squeezing Mike's neck as Frankie ran into the room with Benny behind him. Both men were fast but Big Joe out done them. They looked almost dumbfound at their bosses speed and their facial expressions spelt worry. It was crucial to prevent Big Joe's reactions if they could.
Amy ran towards her husband shouting.
"Joe, don't," -she shrieked, as she started to scratch and claw at her husband's arms in a feeble attempt to break him off Mike, -"Let go of him," she yelled in her husband's ear.
Big Joe took his right hand off Mike while still holding the guy's throat with his left.
"Joe plea-"
Amy couldn't finish. Joe back-handed her across the face with his right hand without turning to look at her.
Amy flew backwards across the room. She quickly took two steps backwards before losing her balance and tripped over. She felt terrified, certain that her husband was going to seriously hurt Mike, or worse, she felt scared that he was going to kill him. She looked at her husband who again had both hands around Mike's neck.
Mike was choking as Big Joe let go of him and punched him in the face, then, again in the nose. Mike's nose burst wide open. The bone split, and pierced through the bridge, leaving his nose as a flap of skin. Big Joe lent over him. He opened his mouth and bit down on Mike's broken nose. He clenched his teeth, and shook his head like a wild beast before bringing his head back up, tearing the nose from Mike's face.
Big Joe grabbed him again with both hands, as Amy was beginning to stand up. Her husband looked at her through his crazy, animalistic eyes, as he spat out Mike's nose towards her.
The nose landed at her feet, and she shrieked again, taking a step back. Big Joe started to force Mike backwards on to the bed, as Frankie and Benny grabbed hold of him, and tried to pull him off his wife's boyfriend.
"Boss stop," Benny urged. His voice deep and fierce.
"Not here Joe," Frankie shouted, trying to convince his boss that his home wasn't the best place for murder. Big Joe was livid, he had seen red, and that mist was nowhere near ready to ascend to a place where it would allow Big Joe to see sense. Not that trying to convince someone that murder in their own home was a bad idea would actually have the required effect after the double homicide they had all participated in, in the same house only a few hours before.
Frankie tried again to tell Joe to let go of the man, while Benny was using all of his strength to break his bosses grip. Amy charged forward and grabbed her husband's right arm as Frankie did the same and grabbed Big Joe around the waist. Big Joe was now almost on top of Mike, who was now led on the bed being strangled. Joe squeezed tighter. Frankie, Benny and Amy tried to pull him away, but he was stronger than all three of them. His grip was tight. Amy screamed in his ear once more.
"Let go of him you fucking bastard," she screamed. This made Big Joe's grimace grow even more dark and removed his right hand again to back hand his wife for the second time.
His hand hit her in the right eye hard and heavy. Amy's vision blurred and her head felt hazy as she flew across the room backwards, crashing into her dressing table. The table slammed against the wall as Amy slid off the surface and banged her head on the floor. That was it, all off a sudden she felt faint, she touched her head and saw her blood on her fingers. She didn't think about Mike as she passed out. Her husband had knocked her out.
Frankie and Benny thought they could use it to their advantage when Big Joe had let go to slap his wife. They were both shouting at him as they tried their hardest to force the man to let go.
They had been in this position before, when Big Joe and other men needed to be separated or restrained, but never like this. The man seemed to possess unstoppable, sub-human strength, and maybe possession is what it was. Big Joe hadn't only seen red and gone wild, releasing his aggression and anger upon the man. No, Big Joe was a man possessed by his own natural demon that lived within him, and that automatic, instinctive, evil spirit had a violent nature that could never be mistaken for a bad temper. The only thing missing was red irises.
It was the sort of subconscious violence you only see from a man wounded by the hateful injustice brought upon him by love. The nervous circuit of the brain that's responsible for the acts of vengeance only caused by betrayal, or transgressions only motivated by deception. Big Joe was the vision of a deranged psychopath pursuing a true crime of passion. Or a monster who's lost control of his mental faculties.
As Frankie and Benny continued their attempts to pry their bosses devilish grasp away from Mike, Mike had almost stopped breathing. "This is beginning to feel futile," Frankie thought, as both Benny and himself used everything they had trying to pull Big Joe away. Mike's eyes had already began to bulge from their sockets as Big Joe's strong grip grew tighter.
"That's it. Die you cunt," Big Joe growled to Mike while staring down at him.
Endangering Mike's life was something Big Joe didn't have concern for. Killing the man was an action that didn't worry him. His emotions were where he wanted them to be, and that was keeping them right beside his intentions.
Benny and Frankie were struggling to meet their own intentions, and the harder Big Joe squeezed, the more he could feel his friends grip becoming weaker. Big Joe was finally reaching his goal. He was literally squeezing the life out of the man who had slept with his wife.
There was no time for talk or later punishment. This was the punishment. Death upon the man may have been a simple retribution, though it was one penalty that Big Joe wished to inflict personally by strangling the man to death with his bare hands.
#
"Urgh" Amy groaned as she woke up. Her head hurt and she felt dizzy, hung over and confused. She had only been passed out fifteen minutes but to Amy it seemed longer. The sort of time-lapse you feel after having vivid dreams during the day.
The events of the last hour rapidly shot back into her mind as reality rushed in, hammering down on her like a sledge-hammer over a tent. Blunt and heavy. Her brain was thumping and her skull felt like it had been batted like a Piñata that was unwilling to break. Her thoughts still peeling themselves off the interior walls of her cranium.
She could hear the familiar voices of Frankie and her husband talking about the thing she had been scared of before her husband had knocked her out. She then heard Frankie mentioning something about Benny letting Hernandez know they're on their way. She realised she was still led on the floor by her dressing table as she looked across the room.
"Ehrm, urgh" she groaned again, and this time the talking stopped. Big Joe and Frankie turned towards her but remained quiet. Both men were sat on the floor. Frankie was up against the back wall while her husband had his back against the bed. Then she saw the legs, those bare, naked legs hanging over the side of the bed next to where her husband was sitting. They were still, lifeless and belonged to Mike.
"Mi, mi..Mike," she stuttered, barely able to speak. Her jaw felt broken and her swollen eye was pulsating like the sensation of an aortic aneurysm.
"Mmmike," she managed to say, but Mike didn't respond, now Amy knew that the thing which scared her before passing out had definitely happened. It was real. Her husband had killed him.
Big Joe stood up and walked over to his wife. He grabbed her hair and pulled her up from the floor.
"Look,"- he said, dragging Amy over towards the bed, -"Look at your boyfriend now," he spat.
Amy had started to cry, her hands clutching her husband's hands trying to break his grip on her hair.
Big Joe walked her closer to the bed and pushed her on to Mike's body. He was naked and bloody, his eyes remained open and he was still warm. Blood still running from the hole where his nose used to be.
Big Joe stepped towards her, the look on his face was one of hurt and disappointment. He was glad Mike was dead and even more pleased that his wife had to live with what she had made him do. Big Joe didn't say anything, he was more enjoying watching his wife desperately crawling away her from boyfriends corpse. He looked at her swollen eye and grinned.
Frankie stood up as Amy got off the bed. She looked at him and stepped closer to grab him. She wanted to feel safe and thought perhaps Frankie would be okay with it if she tried to hug him, showing him she was scared and wanted his protection.
Frankie stepped back and held out his hand at arms-length.
"No Amy," -he said, as he turned to Big Joe, -"I'm gonna go help Benny with the sheets."
Frankie turned and left the room. Amy fell back down to the floor and cried some more as Joe walked over to the window. Amy looked towards the bedside table that had been knocked around during the fight, and to her surprise she could see Mike's phone had fallen down the side and was almost under the bed on the floor between the bed and side table.
"They've not seen the phone," she thought. She looked at her husband who was stood with his back to her looking out the window and Amy saw her chance. She moved closer to the phone and reached out pushing it further under bed before her husband turned around.
A few minutes later Benny and Frankie returned to the bedroom. Benny looked at Joe and said.
"That's done man, we'll leave soon."
Big Joe came away from the window and looked at Benny holding a sheet of plastic, and a roll of black bags. He slung the plastic to the floor, opened it up, then opened a black bag and passed it to Frankie. Frankie took the bag, he walked past Amy and stopped at the side of the bed, he bent down and took hold of Mike's legs.
He pulled the body round so that Mike was lying flat on the bed. Big Joe turned around facing the window. He walked over and stood there gazing down at the garden grounds coolly surveying the area where the Dobermans kennels were. He could hear his dogs pining and expected they had been disturbed by the commotion from inside the house.
Joe had three Dobermann's he had raised and trained from pups and he had named them 'Lancelot, Merlin and Whoo'. Whoo was pronounced like the word who that Big Joe had elongated for the dog's name, because that was the sound the dog would make when he howled.
Whoo was Big Joe's favourite as he had died at birth and Big Joe had given him mouth to mouth with soft and gentle chest compressions using his fingers and pumped Whoo's lungs that had brought the dog back to life.
Joe could still taste the metallic copper flavour of Mike's blood and it reminded him of the taste you get from sucking on an old coin. The blood was on still on his face too, it looked similar to the claret colour of a French red wine.
Benny walked round to the end of the bed and took Mike's legs and straightened them up after Frankie had led the body flat. He took the bottom corner of bed sheet and put it over Mike's body. Frankie picked up the pillows and stuffed in to the black bag, then just as Benny had done with the bottom corner of bed sheet, Frankie done the same with the top, then they folded Mike up in the sheet.
Amy was still on the floor crying in horror as they picked up Mike's body, carried him across the room and placed him on the plastic sheeting where they began to wrap him up before setting about tackling their next job of the night.
Benny opened another black bag and threw it towards Amy.
"Duvet cover," he said.
Amy got up slowly and picked up the bag. She knew what he meant and she done it quickly.
Frankie bagged up the duvet and took the black bags downstairs.
Benny looked at Joe who had stopped looking out the window and was now sat on the end of the bed.
"We'll get this done now," Benny said.
After Benny and Frankie had put the body in the car, the two of them left the house.
#
"For fuck sake" Hernandez thought, slightly opening his eyes when he heard his phone ring. For a moment he considered just letting it ring and closed his eyes. The phone stopped then immediately started to ring again. Hernandez reached for the phone and looked at the screen. It was Benny.
"What's Benny wanting at 5.30am," he thought, as his phone went to its answering machine, record a message option.
Benny didn't leave a message, instead Benny rang straight back again. This time Hernandez took the call.
"Benny man, it's late. What's up?" he asked. He was tired, groggy and still semi intoxicated. Benny could tell by his voice.
"Yeah sorry to wake you Jimmy," said Benny, "we got an issue over here. I need to stop by on the way to work."
Hernandez sighed. He didn't know why the man was on the phone this early. He led there still horizontal and looking up at the ceiling.
"Ok. Where are you," he asked.
"Still with the boss," Benny said, "I'm gonna drop in a used tyre. Some trouble came up with the car."
Hernandez didn't need to use any cryptography to solve this code. He was able to decipher and understood Benny's meaning without thinking.
He sighed again.
"Okay," he consented.
"We're on our way," Benny told him, "we won't be long
Hernandez wasn't impressed by what Benny had told him and he didn't want to get out of bed.
He was feeling weak and tired.
It had been a long night. Carl and Lee were asleep downstairs on the sofa beds and they all hadn't called it a night until an hour before.
Hernandez felt like he was still drunk, the booze hadn't fully worn off and he knew that the hang-over was still yet to kick in.
"Shit. I'm not looking forward to today," he said to himself.
He got out of bed and put his clothes back on before he walked in to the bathroom and over to the sink basin where he splashed a few handfuls of cold water over his face.
"Rughr"- he spluttered, before splashing another handful of water on his face, -"That feels better," he said, still waking up.
He left the bathroom and went downstairs to get the boys up.
He knew they'd take this early wake call just as frustrating as he had.
"Big Joe and his throne of blood," Hernandez whispered to himself while opening the curtains and letting the dawns first light fill the room and abruptly disturbing Lee and Carl who were fast asleep on the sofa beds
"What the fuck Jim," Carl hissed.
Lee pulled his cover over his face and turned on his front.
"Benny's on his way here. Somethings come up," Hernandez said.
"This fucking early?"- Carl said groggily, his voice almost breaking, -"What's so important?"
"Must be serious, whatever it is," Lee determined. He was still buried under the cover and his voice sounded as rough and harsh as Carl's from the late night and the early rude awakening.
Hernandez knew how they felt.
"We'll know soon," he said, "I'm not able to explain anymore."
He wasn't the type to assume anything either but really he knew what the trouble with the car was. It had a dead body in the boot, that was the trouble. He just didn't who's.
He didn't want to be thinking about it this early in the day, he had a headache. He didn't need this from Big Joe this morning. He especially didn't need a third cadaver in his basement but when had he ever let Big Joe down.
He hadn't, and he knew he wasn't going to start. After all he had never questioned Big Joe's actions or judgements.
He knew that whatever had taken place over there was something that must have been out of the man's control. It must've been a serious matter if someone was now brown bread and being brought to him from Big Joe's, when Big Joe had only been home an hour. "I'll get the full story when they arrive," Hernandez thought.
He went into his kitchen and waited for Benny to arrive. Hernandez' only concern was that, the guys at the scrap yard were expecting two bodies and now there was a third. Although he had driven in with corpses, unannounced before, once or twice, and they hadn't asked questions and done their job.
This was business after all.
-Chapter Ten-
Dwayne rolled over in bed to block the daylight from his eyes. The morning sun was hot and even with the window open and with the faint breeze that was coming through, he couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened the day before. He didn't know how to tell Margret that he was worried for them all, and was trying to think of a way the feud could possibly be resolved without further violence.
Dwayne was a sensible man, and in his life he had managed to avoid situations that most people who hadn't managed to keep away from, would tell you, usually resulted in bloodshed, and as far as Dwayne was concerned, there had been too much blood spilt already.
He knew the night before he would wake up thinking of nothing else and that was why his performance with Margaret when they went to bed had ended prematurely. It wasn't anything other than stress, but to him, it still mattered.
He had gone to bed wanting nothing more than a good fuck before they slept and he hadn't even managed five minutes, and it had pissed him off.
Margret hadn't cared. She didn't mind, he knew that. He knew their relationship wasn't based on sex, it had stronger foundations than having to last a lengthy time during intercourse. He was naturally a good performer in the bedroom and because he felt stressed and had finished early he hadn't disappointed her, he had disappointed himself.
He looked at Margaret and admired her beauty. She wasn't the most attractive of women on the scale but to him she was. Just like Margret when she would tell him that he wasn't the most handsome of men, with one nostril bigger than the other and his haired lip, but to her, Dwayne was sexy as hell.
Margaret opened her eyes as he was still watching her sleep and she jolted a little from surprise.
"Morning," she said, as she settled back comfortably.
"Good morning."
"Why, what's good about it babe?" Margaret said humorously. She raised her arm and rested it on her forehead to shield her eyes from the sunlight.
"Well I'm sorry, did you not wake up this sexy on purpose," Dwayne said.
Margaret looked at him smiling and took hold of the duvet and quickly raised it looking down at his penis.
"So if I'm this sexy,"- she said, giggling then dropped the cover back over them, -"is that why you couldn't stay hard for more than a few minutes huh?"
"Marg, what the hell," Dwayne replied, sounding slightly belittled and looking embarrassed.
"Err, sorry babe, I don't mean to make it personal. You know what I always say...., It's better out than in," said Margaret.
As they were both laughing there was a knock on the door and before either of them could ask who it was, Hysum had let himself in. The man's face was a mild look of having no interest or care that he had just walked in on them.
"Guy's, it's nine forty five. Are you getting up?" Hysum asked, straight-faced.
"Christ Hysum, can you not wait?" Margaret said, in an angry and confronting tone that made Hysum's expressionless glaze turn slightly quizzical.
"Leave it out Marg, you're burning fucking sunlight," he said, bluntly as he turned around and left room leaving the door open.
"Asshole," Margaret said, slyly.
As he left they heard Junior downstairs raising his voice. No one could hear what it was he was saying or who he was talking too but they knew he was arguing with someone.
Dwayne turned around and kissed Margaret
on the cheek, then checking that Hysum had gone, he flipped away the duvet covers and stood up, stretching his arms and back. Margaret pulled the duvet back over her.
"Well babe, let's get this bullshit over and done with then," Dwayne said, jokingly.
"Another day, another mess to clean up," she said, sarcastically, "guess I'll get on with some housework while you do your books babe."
Margaret yawned and closed her eyes.
Dwayne got dressed and left the room at the same time Billy was leaving his. Both men walked downstairs. Hysum was in the living room. He had his pistol dismantled on the coffee table and was cleaning the individual parts.
The arguing from the kitchen was continuing and it was clear to Dwayne that it was Junior and Blake who were quarrelling.
#
Junior and Blake had begun a mythological debate they couldn't agree on that had quickly turned into an argument.
It had risen when Blake had asked Junior his thoughts on whether Chaos had been born or had merely just came into existence. Junior believed that Chaos only came about when men walked the earth and Blake believed that the earth or Gaia was actually born from Chaos.
Blake didn't like Junior thinking that Chaos was not the origin of everything and couldn't understand why Junior wouldn't see that it was the same as saying that something else had created God.
Blake lost his temper and pulled his gun, aiming at Junior when Billy walked into the kitchen.
"What, you're gonna shoot me now Blake?"
"One of these fucking days."
"Put the fuckin-"
"Fuck you Junior," Blake said, interrupting aggressively. He took a step forward still aiming the gun at Junior.
He didn't move. His feet were firm in position and he was ready to take on Blake, gun or no gun.
"Stop aiming the fucking gun at me so I can kick you in the balls," Junior provoked, fiercely as Billy walked through the middle of the tension and stood between them.
"Look guys, no one's gonna shoot no one," he said, calmly as Dwayne entered the room.
"Don't you think there's enough bullshit going on without you two fucking idiots setting on each other?" asked Dwayne, standing in the doorway like a doorman, ready to tackle a drunk punter.
"Stay out of this Dwayne." Blake spoke angrily, his nostrils flaring.
"For fuck sake Blake," Dwayne said, jokingly, "this feuds a real pain in the ass,"- he remarked, scratching his head, -"I feel like going over there myself and ending this thing today."
Billy turned to Dwayne sceptically but with an agreeable look on his face.
"Yeah that's what I'm doing man. I'm gonna go have a word with them and find out what's going on," Billy exclaimed with a sudden vehement, unmistakable seriousness that alarmed the group.
"You can't be serious Bill?" asked Dwayne.
Blake lowered the gun and went across to the kitchen table. He sat down and looked up and Billy.
"Well I ain't going," he said
"No one's asking you too. Shit everyone thinks we're at war because fucking Junior went and got emotional.
"If you had been with us Bill, you'd have had the same reaction. The whole seriousness of this situation is because it was set-up so no one saw it coming," said Junior.
"He's right man they could be planning anything. We just don't know, but the point is they can't be trusted," Dwayne said.
"And shut down. Not allowed to move on us before we act ourselves. Together. You heard Caroline last night," said Blake.
"Fuck..., They ain't got nothing against me. What's the worst that can happen?" Billy replied.
"They'll kill you. They didn't have anything against Lisa either," answered Blake.
Billy left the kitchen and went back upstairs. He was worried too, but he had to do something. He felt like they were waiting around for Big Joe's crew to come storming through the front door with guns blazing. He didn't want to sit and wait to see what happened next. He saw them all as sitting ducks and it was making him feel uncomfortable.
Dwayne just wanted to beguile the time before it all kicked off, but Billy thought Dwayne would avoid a confrontation if he could, not because Dwayne was married to Caroline's daughter but for the simple reason he thought Dwayne was a pussy. Blake and Hysum on the other hand could handle themselves and would wait until they knew the plan was in motion before they acted.
Neither Billy or Blake gave the financial limitations of people a thought when they were recklessly supplying them with a loan and expecting to repossess more than they could ever afford to pay back without borrowing more money.
Blake was a handy fella to have on side, he was smart, tough and hadn't shied away from anything in his life. The guy was a ticking time bomb. Blake was an excellent businessman, he would give most people a loan providing they agreed to the highest interest rates they had ever seen. He would trust anyone once, but cross him, let him down or break your word, and he wasn't very forgiving. He often would ask a guy how they perceive themselves by inquiring whether they think they'll die being the unforgiven or the unforgiving. Blake thought he could best figure a guy out that way.
He didn't work by contract he would take your word. Break that, you break your reputation and a good rep is one that's long and hard to build and quick and easy to destroy. It's hard keeping a good reputation when living on high interest pay-loans and Blake didn't offer credit. He took pride in his punctuality and the fact he was always there when was he was needed. He was reliable and he'd support his people in any serious situation.
Hysum was just fucking crazy, never on time and would take on the world single handed if you told him he couldn't. Christ that guy would arrive late to his own funeral. He didn't give a shit. Hysum was an ex Junkie who spent years fucking with old lady heroin and then became a son of a bitch narcissistic charmer, obsessed with his own appearance physically and mentally after he kicked the habit. The only things Hysum was good at was waking up drunk and being shot at, "but he's cool under fire," Billy thought. Hysum had silver plated teeth reconstructed after his real teeth had been knocked out when he swung a diablo up in the air that had come down missing the rope and landed on his mouth. Junior on the other hand was a daddy's boy.
The Plan
Xandir was at his gym when he heard the phone ring that morning. He was the coach for some semi pro boxers who had the skill and potential to one day make it big in professional fights. As a middle aged professional himself he knew the dedication and commitment that was needed to be noticed and gain the essential acclamation a trainee of the sport would need to acquire before they were ready to enter into any competitions. Xandir had a tournament coming up and the lads he was considering entering already had what it takes to be permitted and taken seriously by the SPBF.
The phone rang again.
"Hold it there lads," said Xandir.
Ethan, a.k.a Cobra and Scott, a.k.a Python stopped sparring. They were friends of Xandir's and the trio were muscle for hire.
Xandir removed his pads and took out his gum shield before climbing under the top rope and leaving the ring. He went to his office and lifted the handset. Someone had left a message so he wrote the number down on a note pad he had on the table and listened to the voicemail.
It was Malone.
Xandir rang straight back and Malone answered. During the phone call Malone asked Xandir for help. He knew he was outnumbered and he wanted to hire the trio for support. Xandir was good in a fight and he worked well with his two buddies, together they were considered excellent back up. For a price.
Malone wanted to work together. He explained the situation over the phone and Xandir was more than happy to accommodate to Malone's requirements.
Xandir told him they'd arrive at Malone's for 1pm that afternoon.
-Chapter Eleven-
Big Joe and Amy hadn't slept, it was clear that they had a lot to talk about. Joe was as devastated about coming home and catching his wife in her unfaithful act just as much as Amy was feeling the same way about the brutal repercussions her husband had imposed upon the man she had been having an affair with.
Amy was no stranger to her husband's tendencies, she knew his principles and what he stood for, so she knew that violence was his go to response when something deserved extreme measures. She kept thinking to herself that it hadn't been just her boyfriend who had felt her husband's wrath that day, even if he hadn't murdered Zed himself, it was still all down to his choices and his reaction towards the people he considered to have taken things too far. Joe was known to come down on those he thought had taken liberty.
Amy felt a hint of comfort that it wasn't just Mike, and wondered for a moment how Lisa had felt at the moment she realised that Zed had been set-up and knowing that he was being held accountable for his actions against her husband. "Actions that were punishable by death," Amy thought. She considered, that if Lisa hadn't been in the line of fire, and wasn't now dead, then how would she feel. Amy decided that no matter how Big Joe would have later explained it to Lisa, Lisa would have been feeling hatred towards Joe as well, and pretty much exactly the same as she herself was feeling.
Her and her husband had tried to talk however, it wasn't any use. How could she begin to excuse herself from her infidelity. Trying to do that would just make her seem much more of a bitch in Joe's eyes. She knew he preferred it when people owned their mistakes even if it meant destroying something in the process. They both knew that by ordering Zed's death made him just as responsible for it as the men who pulled trigger. They were all guilty. Guilty by association if nothing more. Though in many cases that's just as bad.
They had stayed in the bedroom a long time after Benny and Frankie had left to take Mike's body away, and in that time there hadn't been much conversation. Big Joe had dealt with it by showing Amy the consequence of her actions. He didn't have much to further expand on that matter. He was sure she knew, so all they could do now was wait until one of them knew what to say about the position they were now in.
Joe had never hit his wife before. He wasn't a bully, and domestic abuse wasn't in his character.
He looked across the room at his wife and saw her swollen eye, his gaze followed from her eyes down to her jaw which was now looking more busted and bruised. "I almost killed her," he thought to himself, as he caught Amy looking at him as he was checking out the damage he had caused her.
The look of hatred and disgust he saw in her expression made him think it was either the beginning or the end, and now they had come to this how could things ever go back to how they were before. "Maybe we're at the point of no return," he thought, as he tried to see if could detect any sign of warmth or respect in his wife's eyes, but the only thing he recognised was the scornful look of contempt and scathing he had seen in many eyes before, but never in the eyes of his wife's.
Now he knew that these were the real eyes she viewed him with, the eyes that held her true feelings for him, the feelings she had been secretly hiding for all this time, and now he knew her secret she didn't have to pretend any longer. She didn't have to force her innocent, loving eyes that told him things were okay, the big brown comforting eyes of the woman who loved him and would never betray. That old look of loyalty and security in honest eyes had gone, because she didn't have to keep up the facade of a false reality any longer. A reality where as long as he remained blind to the truth then she could continue to lie to him. He knew then that he could no longer look his wife in the eyes, and for Amy, that feeling was mutual.
#
Big Joe had prior engagements that morning. He had work to take care of, besides his wanting to leave the house just to be away from his wife, he also needed to finalise some business elsewhere.
It had just gone 09.45 am when Carl and Lee left Hernandez' and set off on their way to the scrap yard carrying three deceased victims in the back of Hernandez' Fiat pick-up truck.
Hernandez had arranged the meeting time for them to make the drop for 10.30 am but the time was getting on for 11.00 am and he still hadn't heard from them.
Frankie and Benny had explained to Hernandez the reasons behind Mike's death and he was concerned for Big Joe. He respected Big Joe and wouldn't have put Amy down to such foolishness.
He knew Frankie and Benny would look after business if Joe wanted time to himself and he felt better when they told him they were meeting him over at his Diamond Casino.
He wondered whether Big Joe was beginning to get cranky over at the Casino waiting for his call.
#
Frankie and Benny arrived at the Diamond Casino a little after 10am that morning, the same time as Hernandez had arranged for the guys at the scrap yard to expect Carl and Lee. Joe was thinking about Zed and Lisa but he wasn't thinking about what Frankie had told him earlier about the thing's Junior had said about their deaths having started a war. Big Joe wasn't fretting over Malone or anyone else in regard to the specific reasons and circumstances that had led to both Zed and Lisa being killed during the party the day before.
All he wanted to know was confirmation that Carl and Lee had completed their task. He wanted to know that all three cadavers were gone. He just needed that call from Hernandez and it would be one less thing for him to think about. He wasn't bothered about a feud or a war or any sort of conflict with Malone. Usually he would've spoken to the man by now and had arranged to meet him. He would need to explain to him and Caroline at some point that he hadn't planned, nor intended to hold Lisa accountable as well as Zed.
It was just a misunderstanding and he never meant to offend either Malone or Caroline. Accidents happen, and so does shit but Joe didn't know just how much the shit would be getting stirred, and it was a great big mixing paddle that was about do the stirring.
He was a man who took pride in detail and he was confused. He couldn't understand how Amy had pulled the wool over his eyes and managed to keep her activities this undetected for however long she had been. He hadn't picked up or homed in on her repetitive act of sinful behaviour. He wasn't bound to religious rules but no matter how disconnected he was from religious principle, he knew that his secular tradition didn't declare him against matters of his belief, and he believed adultery was wrong.
Society plays down any individual responsibility for sin or vice. So deep is the fear of being labelled judgemental that society has attributed a multitude of sinful behaviors to extraneous excuses, which have virtually exonerated the doer of any personal guilt. He knew his wife was guilty, but was she ashamed? Did she feel shame for her actions or was she codependent on the feeling of shame so much that her addiction to lying meant that she didn't care about his hurt or the embarrassment he felt.
He considered whether she had merely just fallen out of love with him. Joe didn't know. He understood that Amy was a private woman. The more questions he answered himself the more questions he had that were remaining unanswered.
He was a man confused by his own attempts to try and make sense of it all. He was aware that his wife was a flirtatious woman and he knew she had a tendency to lie to the point where he knew that she knew that he knew it was a compulsive disorder that Amy couldn't control. That and the fact that she had become addicted to her own deceptions. "I must be blind," he thought, "How could I fail to see the signs of her dominant control over our relationship."
How did he let his career and her addictions overshadow them both to the point where he didn't see this coming. Lying, secret keeping, promiscuity, they're all bad traits he now recognized in his wife. "They're all bad habits," Joe thought.
He considered his wife to be a stealth bomber who had flown under radar and left a path of destruction in her wake. He had plenty on his mind and mostly due to Amy. He was hurting but he didn't show it. Continuing operation was the key to moving past this he thought. Amy was on his mind. Their relationship was damaged. It was at stake, Amy had risked losing him and everything they had built together for a man he knew nothing about, and he was torn between thinking whether she had come very close to losing it all, or whether she was successful. He didn't know, and felt it best to give it some time.
#
While at the Casino Benny was feeling like taking a few hours off now that he had finished dealing with the previous problem of transporting Mike's stiff across town. He was tired, however Big Joe had one more job for him to do. He wanted Benny to go back to the house and to keep an eye on Amy.
After considering whether to call in the guys and deciding that if they had been up at the club all night and hadn't been there to see what had happened then maybe it would be better to send someone who knew the situation.
He didn't know what was going through his wife's mind or how much of a rash pay back plan she could've already devised. There was enough happening already and the last thing he needed was for Amy fucking his head up any further. One thing at a time he thought to himself. Step by step.
Benny agreed and checked the time on his phone. He yawned. It was 11.17 and it would take him at least half an hour to drive across town. Frankie told him to use the Audi R8 they had used earlier on that day and he would drive back with Joe later.
Even though Frankie had examined the car's interior for any blood stains that may have leaked through the bedding, and then through the plastic sheeting he remained uncertain why they had chosen to use the Audi in the first place, especially when there was Big Joe's Pathfinder parked next to the garage.
Usually Big Joe would have had his BMW in the garage along with both of their Audi's, the TT and the R8. The R8 was Amy's car and was parked in the garage and why it was used to take Mike's body across town. The TT was parked outside the house so that the 63' Lincoln could be stored in the garage and the Lincoln was the last thing on people's minds that day.
Benny wasn't feeling like sticking around for any casual conversation as far as he was concerned there wasn't any time for shooting the breeze. He thought checking on Amy and being there to make sure she didn't create a situation that might become a pain to handle wasn't a bad idea. Adding more pressure to this circumstance wouldn't only force people to a breaking point, it would also increase friction by an excessive amount. And who needs that Benny thought. Enough was happening already.
#
Billy arrived at Big Joe's and rang the intercom on the wall beside the gates. He looked at the car radio and checked the time. The small digital clock said it was a 11.36 am. He looked in the rear mirror and looked himself in the eye.
"This is real," he thought.
He reached out the window and rang the intercom once more. Amy answered and asked Billy what he wanted. He told her his reason for coming over, and unannounced, was to speak with her husband and the nature was innocent.
Amy told him that her husband was out but she allowed him up to the house under the impression that Big Joe would be back soon. She had a different idea altogether. She wanted to plant some seeds in Billy's head and she had chosen the Judas tree. The bane, fast growing tree of which Judas from the bible is said to have hanged himself from after betraying Jesus with a kiss.
Her intention was to poison Billy's mind with true accounts and false information so he would return to Malone armed with toxic tales and lies in order to sabotage her husband with her psychological manipulation.
She told Billy to park his car in front the garage outside the house. Billy did, and met Amy at the front door. He always liked Amy, he thought she was an attractive lady, and many times before, he thought he had fancied her.
He was invited inside and Billy stepped in smiling, looking at Amy standing in the lobby, her long blonde hair, shaggy and crimped seemed almost too heavy for such a woman of Amy's size, that was what Billy thought before his surprise when he caught sight of her battered face. He could tell something wasn't right with her right eye, even behind the large lensed sunglasses she was wearing, and in doors for a start.
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened to you?" he asked, as Amy took a step towards the hallway.
"He went crazy after the party," Amy told him, distressingly, "he killed Zed and Lisa, then he left but he came home later and hit me," she said, purposely avoiding telling Billy why.
"No way, what, just walked in and started smacking you up? What, was he drunk?" Billy said, curiously in a benevolent manner.
"Yeah, he was out of his head and I was so scared. He left after, when I was unconscious," she lied.
"So, where's Joe currently?"
"Um, probably with his girlfriend," she replied spitefully, sounding aggrieved, "and the people that really matter."
"Right, when do expect him back?"
"I don't know Billy, I'll call him in a minute and tell him you're here."
At first Billy didn't question her story, it was all bullshit to Billy. Just a countable story of disputable facts and as far as he was concerned, shit happens to the best of us and shit doesn't discriminate. His second thought was more of an interesting distraction that he preferred on his mind. It was the way Amy was dressed and as he looked her up and down he could see that she had tried her best to cosmetically cover up her swollen eye.
The thick black mascara behind the lenses he could see each time she readjusted her sunglasses was obvious and she had clearly attempted to use make-up to conceal the injury to her jaw, but that's where Billy's concerns stopped as he found himself distracted by how short and tight her denim shorts were that she had on with her bandage sided high-heeled long sandaled boots that almost reached her thighs. The type of boots you would expect to see on a fetish girl in a rock band who was going for the comfy feel.
From there his eyes gazed upon her camo drawstring cropped hoody pullover that Billy thought did well to support Amy's plump breasts and he felt aroused. He looked her up and down again, noticing a bulge in her hoody pocket, "probably her phone," he thought, momentarily, before continuing to enjoy how good she was looking. He felt a mild need to tell her how sexy she looked but he didn't have to. Amy could see it written on his face. It was the look of guy who wants what he can't have. His mischievous grin said it all. She had seen it on many faces of many people before and it was an expression she had grown used to.
"Look but don't touch," she said, humorously and light-heartedly while, knowing her flirtation would only tease the man.
"This isn't seduction this is manipulation," she thought to herself.
For an ex model Amy did have sex appeal, she had the looks and the body. She was a vision of exquisite physical condition. Billy thought she had the looks you only see from someone who is born with a natural beauty and he regarded that beauty to be inside and out. A combination of qualities that seemed just as indestructible as they were captivating and in a short time Billy had assured himself that even Amy's imperfections must be prefect.
Being a petite woman, Amy seemed like she was delicate. Not short and weak but, as if she was meant to be taller and had stopped for that she possessed a tight and firm, larger than average, rounded and globe like perfectly formed ass that complimented her slim body.
Billy would often describe a woman of such size and beauty as one who's physical appearance exceeded the usual standards of locality or country while using her as an example of what he found personally beautiful.
His impression of her was complimentary and presumed she was a lady who never took life too seriously, and knew the value of having a good time. Above all else, he thought of
growing early. She was gorgeous and had almost everything in proportion, accept
Amy as a person who had her shit together.
Amy was enjoying the way she was being looked at, with Billy's mouth about to become a waterfall, she felt powerful and for an instant she forgot about the pain she was feeling. Usually she would be annoyed by the obvious lust she could see in him and would regard it to be more than unwelcome, but today, Amy didn't give fuck. She had a score to settle. Her sense of loss and upset was consuming her and all she wanted to do was create mischief and mayhem.
She took him through to the dining room where the party had been held the night before. Her bracelets jingled and Billy admired her casual sense of style that was somewhere between street fashion and rocker trend. She walked to the right hand side of the room where the bar was set up and opened the mini fridge, taking out two bottles, popping the caps, and handing a beer to Billy. She stood at the bar and took her smart phone out of her hoody pocket, switched it off and put the phone down on the bar before looking at back at her guest. The house was dark and quiet. Amy was expecting Billy to ask again about her face and when he did she wasn't planning on completely driving his attention away from the truth, but she was going to purposely not tell him the full truth in her version of the story.
In her report the occurrences would be a fabricated description of the previous night. She wanted Billy to hear again that it was Joe who had hit her but that was all. She was intending to twist her take on the night before and feed Billy her adaptation. This was because of a broken heart. Her mind was on fire. She was hurting from loss and she thought her abnormal behaviour of someone seeking revenge could only be explained as grief. Grief is to blame she told herself.
She convinced herself that her pursuits of making her husband regret his actions were different from what she normally experienced but it didn't matter, as she was now being sincere to herself. She began by repeating the truth she had already told him about Joe hitting her twice. She then moved on through her list of misleading mistruths and her convoluted thoughtful instances as this was a personal exercise she could singly design from the ground up.
It was one of those times that some extra additions and skipping over certain information in your account of events can have a beneficial result, if what your implying or skipping over happens to work in your favour, then it didn't matter how accurately you told it, and Amy had been looking forward to having a promising scapegoat. One who would spread her lies of the forgotten truths she would conveniently leave out.
She told Billy her husband had hit her in the bedroom as one incident, leaving out the co-occurrence that he had caught her with another man. She completely left out Mike and their affair and implied that it was Joe who had been cheating on her, and for a moment making Billy think that she had refused to have sex with her husband because he was drunk after she discovered his affair.
Now that Billy was taking the conversation more seriously he did have some questions. He knew he didn't believe what she was telling him, yes Joe may have been drunk and although Billy had always known Big Joe was a violent man, Billy also knew him to be fair and usually would consider his impression of the man to be a trustworthy conviction.
Billy thought twice, he had a fair assumption of the guy but what if he was wrong. He had a good idea that Big Joe had never hit Amy before but, then again, his hunch was just that. For all he really knew Joe was a home bully and had been disguising it very well. After all he had held close to his chest the information for however long about the fifty thousand Zed had taken from him. He had also secretively arranged and executed a set up plan against Zed, so how much did he really know about the man. All he really knew was that Amy was deliberately leaving the lights off and Billy could tell. It did look like someone had violently assaulted her but Billy had never seen her like this, she was almost mumbling her words but that could be her busted jaw he thought. He didn't like to see her all beaten up and wondered if perhaps Joe had done it but was he capable, did he have it in him to actually physically beat his wife?
Possibly Billy thought.
If not, maybe she had been attacked while out? Is that why Big Joe was nowhere to be seen. Was he out dealing with some woman beating thugs?
"He sounds like an asshole. Have you been out for some air today? Billy asked, fishing for a hint of something that resembled the smell of bullshit.
"No, not looking like this."
Billy felt ambivalent because if Joe wasn't out dealing with the thugs and he hadn't been the one who had hit her then why would they want to point the finger at him?
They wouldn't.
Billy knew for sure she had made up certain parts of her story but to what part, one thing Billy was now certain of was, it was obvious that Amy had been hit by Big Joe.
But why?
Billy knew she wouldn't have refused Big Joe sex because he had been drunk, and Billy also knew that Amy hadn't left the house. Which suggested again that Amy was definitely covering something up, but Billy couldn't make out what it was she was hiding.
Billy knew something wasn't right. Besides his initial, shit happens attitude he had become suspicious very quickly and had decided that both her story and injuries were in fact superficial.
What Amy trying to achieve or hoping to gain from distracting him from unlocking her bars of reality and stepping through into the unknown?
And then she said it.
"He's planning something against Malone for tomorrow,"- she said, manipulatively, biting the inside of her lip, -"He has people ready to pay a visit,"- she grabbed Billy's arm in a way to show urgency, -"he said it's what it is Billy, we can't let him get away with it."
"More twisted than a barrel full of snakes,"- Billy thought suddenly, -"maybe she isn't as attractive on the inside as she is on the outside."
Other than the clear inane and flippant body of work, all Billy could see was an extremely hot exterior, yet just a surface on top of layers that now to him seemed algid because Amy had begun to seem very cold on the inside and he didn't feel like sticking around any longer.
All of sudden he felt chilly as if all the warmth of his preconceived notions along with the heat in the house had just disappeared. His temperature dropped fast and his body was losing heat faster than it could produce it. He had heard enough, and thought it would be a good idea to leave Amy and Joe to deal with their domestic issues without interference and besides, letting Malone and the others know that Joe and Amy had their own trials and tribulations whatever they were, couldn't do any harm. It had just gone mid-day and Billy was about to tell Amy he was leaving when they heard footsteps walking down the hallway. Billy's temperature had decreased but now he was frozen.
-Chapter Twelve-
The crusher is hungry, it must be fed. It's hardened steel maw opened to accommodate an old Estate. The jaws began to close, and the crusher rocked softly side to side as it brought it's full force to bear. The car emitted a high-pitched grinding noise and then, -pop!- the windshield blew. Then -pop! pop!- the headlights exploded. In a matter of seconds, the Estate was less than two ft square and the crusher yawned to accept another rust-bitten victim.
It's all part of a highly efficient salvage industry that ensured that, after death, any car is reduced to its basic elements and reborn, to be used over and over again. Not the Estate. The Estate was lifted by crane, rotated and placed into the dark ground where it would stay. Some car parts may live to be recycled and could become a part of a plane or food container. Not this car. So the three hidden carrion components within it could meet their graves, this car would be buried.
#
Jimmy Hernandez was checking the time again, it was 12.06 pm when he received the call and he answered his phone the first time it rang. It was Carl.
"We're good," he told Hernandez without hesitating and we're good meant one thing, and that was, the journey, the delivery and the final disposition of the recently deceased had all been completed successfully without a hitch. Well, save for a a tiny issue of being in the possession of an extra cadaver that the guys at the scrap yard were not expecting, but after Carl had explained to them that whether it be two or three, didn't make a difference to the crusher. That, and the fact that Hernandez was paying double for the third corpse soon brought the arrangement to an effective and approved quick closure.
They say it's pointless to argue with people you can't reason with, and so, attempting to persuade a scrap yard automobile crusher on his own turf, to do you a favour he isn't interested in doing, is as dangerous or plain stupid as rowing with some gypsy travellers on a caravan site. As dangerous as playing with fire, or as dangerous as a true knot in a babies umbilical cord.
That's another reason why money is the known source of all bad things, because by having it does make one influential, but it certainly has its advantages without greed being the problem to everything.
Their services were appreciated and the cargo had been left to be crushed to a pulp, liquidised into nothing more than a smudge of brackish red stain on the inside of whatever vehicle they surrendered for crushing that day.
"We're on our way to you, about twenty minutes," Carl told Hernanadez, as he yawned, the sound of the man yawning brought a new sense of fatigue for Hernandez that his eyes filled with water as he felt his head become heavy. He was a fit man for forty seven. Never the less, he needed sleep.
Hernandez hung up the phone and immediately tried to ring Big Joe. The phone went directly to the man's answer phone. Joe was engaged.
#
Billy looked at the doorway that led out of the reception room and into the hallway. He didn't know why he felt cold and motionless as if he was frozen to floorboards, and he was unsure why being where he was felt like he was doing something wrong, but listening to the footsteps coming down the hall fired up some anxiety and he realised that he was nervous. Is it Joe? he thought, perhaps home to apologise and make it up with Amy.
He looked at Amy and mouthed the words who. Billy looked scared. Like a young boy who knows they've been caught up to no good.
Amy shrugged, as suddenly Benny called out from the hallway.
"Amy, you here? Joe sent me."
"Yeah, I'm in here," she said, in a frustrated tone of voice.
"Are you with Billy boy Amy? I saw his wheels parked out front!" Benny said, deeply. His deep, raspy voice seemed deeper to Billy than it had ever sounded before.
"Yeah, I'm with her Ben," confirmed Billy, nervously.
Amy started walking towards the door, but Billy stayed where he was. He thought about moving to the bar but his legs still didn't want to move, he felt heavy. He was beginning to wish he had listened to Junior and Blake and stayed with them back at home. Home now seemed like it was a more safer place to be unlike the predicament he was now in. Earlier he had felt like a target in his own room, without any means of escape. Trapped on his own territory and now he was the fool who had walked into the lion's den and fraternising with the enemy on some heroic peace plan. He was sure Benny would see him as nothing less than a trespasser on deadly ground, that or a raving lunatic who didn't know where he was better off.
Billy started to feel nauseous. He had felt okay before, but after talking with Amy, and now Benny turning up, randomly, apparently sent by Joe seemed strange. The only sense Billy could make of it was that Benny was here to keep his eye on Amy. He knew right away that this, whatever it was, Billy didn't know, had gone way beyond a Zed and Lisa situation, and seeing Amy's facial injuries and Benny's arrival, Billy knew he shouldn't be there.
He'd be silly to stick around any longer.
Amy reached the door at the same time as Benny did. His wide muscular physique filled the entrance. He looked down, overshadowing her. Up against men as big as Joe and Benny, Amy looked smaller, Billy noticed. Benny was standing in the door looking powerful. The alpha male.
Amy looked up at him.
"Another errand for my bastard husband," she said, sarcastically, as she lightly pushed passed Benny and left the room leaving the two men alone together.
She had to think. Benny turning up had really fucked things up for her. All the lies she had told Billy now seemed a major mistake. "What if he says something to Benny and Benny puts him straight? "she thought. She had almost succeeded in planting the necessary seeds in Billy's head that would allow her Judas tree to begin growth. Her vindictive poison was flowing in Billy's mind, however, had he absorbed enough of it so that he would set forth her exploitations. Benny's arrival was inconvenient. He had interrupted her dirty work and by all accounts, his presence had foiled her plan and now she needed a new plan.
She was also hoping Billy didn't find out through Benny that she had been lying to him to string him along. Plus, if Benny found out what she was doing, he would tell Joe. She was fucked. "How am I going to solve this?" she thought to herself, as she decided that she had one last chance to convince Malone that his family were in trouble. She would have to do it herself.
She could hear the men talking to each other from the kitchen. Her original reaction was to leave them to it and run away, hoping they'd fall out or create reasons to go toe to toe right then and there, that could quite possibly lead to Benny blowing a fuse and becoming enraged enough that he'd kill Billy, she knew he would, but on the other hand, It wouldn't even take for Benny to be that mad, she had seen him take on tough men and not break a sweat, Benny was the only guy she knew who could commit some horrific acts while remaining absolutely calm. However, minor disagreements often escalate into something much worse, largely because we don’t know how to keep our temper and remain calm. Either way, she needed to move fast if she wanted to pull off plan B.
She was scared but she was angry and on top of that, more importantly, she was determined. There was no time to panic she thought, as she made her way out of the kitchen and along the hall. She reached the bottom of the staircase and didn't stop, she continued on to the closet next to the front door. Inside the closet there was the winter jackets, the summer shoes, the wellies. She rummaged through the whole years inventory of their belongings, bags, some mini suitcases, storage baskets and shoe boxes. She searched a chest of draws and on the shelves. She rifled through everything. She knew it was there somewhere unless Joe had moved it.
But where?
She knew Joe wouldn't have moved it into the bedroom. As long as she'd known him he hadn't kept any in the bedroom. In his office perhaps, but she didn't have the key. She couldn't go breaking into his office because that would only draw attention to her scheme, and raising Benny's suspicion was the last thing she wanted to do.
Her thoughts raced thinking of anywhere else her husband may have moved it as she hunted through the closet as fast and as quiet as she could. Billy would walk out with Benny any minute she was sure of it. She started to break a sweat. She could feel the beads raising on her forehead and down her back. Her heart beat increased with her stress and anxiety. "Where is it?" Amy thought.
She opened the top draw again and rummaged through.
Nothing.
She opened the second draw. Still nothing, "it's not here, it's not here," she thought, in a panic. She stepped backwards almost tripping over a pair of wellies that were stood up against the side wall of the closet. The wellies fell sideways and she heard, 'clink', "what's that?" she thought, as she turned and looked down. Her eyes widened with surprise, her unexpected amazement lit up her eyes. There it was, Joe's old Revolver. Amy picked up the gun and checked the cylinder, hoping it had ammunition, but to her dismay the revolver was empty.
She felt like crying, she had come so close to taking control of her situation and now it seemed she was no further to her goal than she had been hours before. She felt confused and hopeless, all she wanted was for something to make sense, and then she remembered the gun Zed had had at the party. Ray had picked it up and had had it at the bar when he was drinking with Larry. "The Kel-Tec semi auto should still be behind the bar," she thought. She remembered Carley putting it away next to the glasses. Frankie and Benny had left with Joe and the others did the clean-up before they left for the club, but none of them knew that Carley had put the gun on the bar shelf out of sight.
Amy quickly made her way down the hall and made a right into the reception room. Benny turned to look at her. "Billy's gonna shoot off," he said, his gristly voice no less imposing as ever.
"Aren’t you two boys getting along? I expect my husband would want you playing nice," Amy proclaimed, while slowing her pace and walking passed them casually. She seemed normal, and the men didn't suspect anything was afoot.
"It's fine," Billy said, "but Benny's busy, and I shouldn't be here anyway," he announced, as Amy reached the bar and picked up her phone along with some shot glasses.
"Well, don't rush off on my behalf," she said, "besides I want to get you both a drink, I don't want to drink alone, so Benny, be cool, you must be tired and one drink can't do any harm..., and Billy, you're gonna join us, don't even think about running off just yet!" she said in a softer, yet still authoritative tone of voice in order to persuade them.
"Just the one whisky," Billy agreed, as Benny took a step towards the bar.
"I'll bring them over," Amy said, abruptly, while stood behind the bar with the pistol on the lower shelf in front of her. She reached forward and placed her phone on the shelf next to the gun, and at the same time she quickly repositioned the pistol, so it would be easier to grab, she looked for a safety and noticed there was no catch, "ready to go," she thought.
"So Benny, what time are we expecting my husband home?" She asked, as she picked up a bottle of tequila and poured the shots.
"I wanted Whisky," Billy said, at the same time Benny answered.
"I'll ring him soon, Amy."
"And where is he?" she asked, while taking the shots over to them, and leaving hers on the bar. She handed the guys their shots and told them to wait until she had her drink and quickly walked back to the bar. She picked up her shot glass and looked out the patio sliding doors where she espied six crows pecking at the grass foraging for beetles and other insect grubs.
"The birds are out," she said, gently, her nervousness dissipating and becoming more relaxed.
"That's funny," Billy observed, "a group of crows are called a murder."
"Is that a fact, Billy boy?" Benny jeered.
"Yeah,"- he replied, counting the crows, -"and six are associated with bad omens."
"No crows, no murders," Benny said, humorously.
Amy looked at them, still holding her shot glass.
"Cheers," she said, raising her glass.
"What are we toasting?" Benny asked.
Amy looked at him and laughed.
"Um, the crows," she said, still chuckling, "it looks like it’s a good day for them!"
"To the crows," Benny said, in a raised voice. They all raised their drinks.
"To the crows," Billy and Amy repeated together.
They all downed their shots. Amy dropped her glass and quickly grabbed the pistol. She was pointing the weapon at Benny before the glass hit the floor.
Amy fired a shot.
The pistol jumped in her hands. Benny's first reaction was his instinctive defence response to anyone aiming a gun at him, he reached to pull his pistol from underneath his jacket. His eyes wide with shock and disbelieve. Amy fired a another round. Her hands were shaking but her aim was straight and the bullets reached their intended target, both hitting Benny in the chest, the force of impact knocked him backwards and he fell. She re-aimed at Billy who was reaching for his weapon and she pulled the trigger twice more. Again the rounds struck home. The left side of Billy's head exploded and he had a puncture wound in his chest.
The Dobermans began to bark from their kennels. Billy hit the floor dead. She aimed at Benny who was still moving. He had rolled onto all fours. She fired one more shot into Benny's back and the man dropped flat. Amy took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the bar and walked over to where they led still aiming at Benny, she knew she didn't have to worry about Billy, half of the man's head was missing so she pushed Benny's body with her foot. The man was dead. She reached into his jacket and pulled out his Glock 9mm the man always carried and walked back to the bar where she returned the Kel-Tec to the lower shelf before pouring herself a shot of tequila and quickly drinking it before going to the patio doors. She fired two rounds in to the air and then returned to Benny. She put the Glock in his hand, then she did the same with Billy's. Only firing two rounds before placing the weapon in the dead man's fist. She wanted to do the best she could to make it look like the two men had fought and killed each other before she left.
The dogs were still barking.
#
Big Joe and Frankie were at the Diamond Casino waiting for Hernandez' call. Frankie looked at his watch. "Time's getting on," he said, to Joe who was looking agitated.
"Benny, should be there by now."
It had been almost an hour since Benny had left the casino and he hadn't been in touch since. On top of that they still hadn't heard from Hernandez.
Joe picked up his smart phone and dialed Benny's number. He switch it onto loud speaker and they listened to the phone dialing, Joe was wondering why Benny wasn't picking up. The phone rang out and went to answer phone. Big Joe rang again leaving no time between the calls. Benny didn't answer so Joe rang again.
"He's not picking up the fucking phone," Joe said angrily, "I've left him a voicemail and text him three fucking times."
"I'll try on mine," Frankie suggested.
Frankie took out his phone and dialed the number hoping Benny would've heard his phone and would now answer, but Benny still didn't pick up. Frankie rang again as Big Joe tried to ring his wife but Amy's phone didn't ring. It was switched off. Frankie listened to the phone ringing as he was trying to get hold of Benny when Big Joe's phone started ringing.
"It's Hernandez," Joe told Frankie, as he quickly answered the call.
"It's done," Hernandez said.
"Right, Jimmy listen, go to mine place yeah, you okay doing that?"
"Why," Hernandez said. Always a man of few words Joe thought.
"I've got a feeling that something's not right over there."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Benny should be there already. Tell him to stay there and to call the boys. Get them over to mine You can grab Amy and bring her fucking ass down here!"
"What's going on man?"
"Not sure. Do that for me Jim and ring me when you get there."
Joe hung up the phone and looked at Frankie with a serious expression on his face.
"No answer," Frankie said.
#
With the two men dead, Amy was alone in the house, all she had to do was buy herself some time, but how? she didn't know. She had executed the first part of her plan pretty well, but she hadn't thought about her next move. It had all happened too fast for her to have definitively worked out every inch of her new scheme. She knew she was going to Malone's, but what was to stop Joe coming home to find Benny and Billy and then turning up at Malone's before she would have chance to convince anyone that they needed to come to Joe.
She didn't know for sure how Malone or Caroline had even responded to the news from Junior about what had happened to Lisa. "What if he had told them that I hadn't tried to stop it," she thought. Amy pondered on her failure of not resorting to any kind of prevention, may make her look just as accountable for it as her husband was. Maybe she was guilty in some way, perhaps everyone who didn’t step in to help were. She hadn't thought about that. She decided to continue with her plan anyway. After all she was a good liar and knew how to use it to her advantage to get what she wanted. It was then she realised the Dobermans were barking.
"That's it," Amy thought, "the dogs."
She fetched the remote key for the main gates, then ran upstairs where she grabbed the Pathfinders key from the master bedroom and at the same time retrieving Mike's smart phone that she had pushed under the bed. She knew Mike's passcode and after making sure the phone was switched on and had battery life, thinking to her herself she also might as well delete the history on her phone and leave it behind to further distant her husband. After she was finished, she made her way downstairs and out into the garden. Once there, she bee lined straight for the kennels. The dogs fell silent as she approached, they recognised her and began wagging their tails, happy to see her walking towards them. She greeted the dogs by name as she unbolted their kennels, and just as quickly as she had come, she left, and proceeded on towards the garden gate.
She was now ready to go.
The Dobermans watched her leave the garden. Lancelot and Merlin's nose started twitching as they sniffed the air. They could smell blood and wanted to hunt, but Whoo didn't, Whoo just followed Amy who had purposely left the gate wide open and had already stepped out onto the drive way. She ignored Billy's Primera and quickly, in a straight direct course, made her way around to the garages where the Pathfinder was parked. Amy beeped the central locking and climbed inside the car where she put the key in the ignition and turned on the engine, then, just as always, the second thing she did, was push the cd into the drawer. It was a habit that Amy had once realised she did each time she was preparing to begin a journey. The speakers came to life and filled the car with the jazzy sound of the fifties rhythm and blues doo wop.
Amy pulled off, listening to Little Richard singing about Long Tall Sally and she felt righteous. At the automotive gates she opened them using the remote key, but she didn't close them after her. She left the grounds, and didn't notice that Whoo was trying to follow her, as the dog watched the car driving away he didn't understand the busy road was a dangerous place to be for an animal. Amy hadn't intended to not close the main gate. She hadn't locked the house or taken her smart phone either, and as she drove around the corner at the end of her street passing a silver Fiat Fullback, she remained unsure as to what was going to happen next.
The reaction of the Fiats driver was quick, but not fast enough to break in time when Joe's favourite Doberman ran out into the road. The driver and his two passengers gasped at the collision. They had been speeding up the street and through the windshield, the driver couldn't tell what had ran out into the road. Whoo didn't know what had hit him as he flew backwards fifteen feet and landed on the road outside his house, immediately trying to get back on his feet after the impact. Realising it was a dog they had hit, and hearing it crying, the driver of the Fiat truck stopped to help. Whoo was flopping around on the road before he collapsed when something ruptured inside of him from his internal injuries, then Whoo bled to death within minutes. If Amy had had more options, it wouldn't have been her first choice to make her situation perilous for the dogs, however, just like it had been with Lisa, innocence is often the casualty of war.
She spent the most part of the journey to Malone's working out what she was going to say when she arrived, and by the time she pulled up outside the three story semi-detached property in Enfield listening to Little Richard sing about Miss Molly, Amy was thinking about her own lavish and extravagant lifestyle, and her and Mike sure did like to ball. As she exited the Pathfinder and made her way up Malone's drive, she didn't pay attention to the graphic designed, orange and white advertisement for, -Xandir Hughes -TUF-Personal Trainer, that was branded on the sides of a black Mercedes Vito van that was parked outside the house, because as Amy knocked Malone's front door she only had one thing on her mind, and that was, how ready she was to continue spinning her unforgiving web.
#
Carl looked at his watch as him, Lee and Hernandez drove round the corner onto Big Joe's street. "It's ten past one," he told Hernandez. Carl and Hernandez hadn't recognised the Nissan Pathfinder that had passed them as they turned the corner moments before, and if they did, they gave no indication. Lee looked into the rear view as he changed up a gear and sped up the road, he thought the vehicle they had just passed looked familiar, however that's when a black blur had stepped out from between two cars.
There was a huge crash, and everyone in the car gasped as Lee slammed onto the brake pedal.
"What the fuck was that, what did we hit?" Shouted Carl.
They were almost outside Big Joe's, but Lee couldn't stop the truck in time to avoid hitting the black dust cloud. Only it wasn't dust. The brakes screeched as the car slid along before slowing to a halt, and from inside, they watched as a Dobermann flew through the air and crash landed on the asphalt road surface outside Joe's front gates. That's when Lee forgot about the SUV that had been heading in the opposite direction.
The Doberman looked like he was trying to walk it off as they slowly drove up to him. Hernandez knew who owned the dog even before it had landed. Hernandez and Carl disembarked the truck as the Doberman collapsed panting. Hernandez could tell the dog wasn't in good shape and Carl was hoping that Whoo's condition could still be stabilized.
Lee was shaking, he felt sorry for the dog and it was hard for him to accept his mistake. It was then when Hernandez noticed the gates to Joe's had been left wide open.
"Go up to the house and get Amy," Hernandez shouted, to Lee who was still behind the wheel, "bring a blanket down here,"
Lee started up truck and pulled away before taking the first right and drove up the drive way. Carl waited with Hernanadez.
Lee stopped the truck behind the R8 and the Nissan and got out. He hurried up to the front door and knocked. When no one came to the door he knocked again. Then again louder. He took a step backwards and removed his smart phone from his pocket and dialled Hernanadez number.
"No one's answering the door," he said, calmly down the phone.
"Knock again."
"I did, and it's dark inside, like no one's home."
"Joe reckons Benny's already here!"
"The R8 is here! The TT as well, but there's a blue Nissan Primera up here too. Someone forgot to shut the garden gate also," Lee told him, "Try the intercom next to the gate Jimmy."
"Guess we know how the dog escaped," Hernandez replied, as he walked up to the intercom and pressed the call button.
"Most likely." said Lee.
"Go through the garden," Hernandez suggested.
"I ain't going through the garden, what about the other dogs."
"Just go have a peak round the side."
"I ain't going through the fucking garden, Jim," Lee said, his tone of voice was serious and he was adamant he wasn't going near Joe's guard dogs.
From where Lee was stood, he could hear the intercom ringing inside the house.
"No answer," Hernandez said, down the phone.
"I'm telling you, it's dead up here pal."
"What the fuck is going on?" Hernandez said, in a concerned and almost worried tone of voice.
Lee walked up to the front door and tried the handle and the door opened.
"I'm in," he said, "someone left the fucking door unlocked."
"Call Benny from the door," Hernandez told him.
"Benny," Lee shouted, "Benny..., Amy..., it's Lee."
"Anything?"
"Nothing, it's dark and silent in here."
Over the phone Lee heard Carl tell Hernandez the dog had died.
"Shit, dog's just died," Hernanadez informed Lee, "we're on way to you. Have a look around," Hernandez said before hanging up the phone.
Lee walked into the lobby. The first thing he noticed was that it looked like someone had ransacked the closet. He peered round the side of the hallway and towards the staircase. It was dark and quiet inside the house. He moved on towards the bottom of the stairs and looked up the landing towards the first floor. It was dark up there too. He called out Benny's name up the stairs and down the hallway, but his efforts returned fruitless. He turned the lights on for the lobby and hallway from the switch at the bottom of the stairs.
"Like someone in the Bible once said," he thought to himself, as light filled the downstairs
"Let there be light," he said, as he started down the hall. He was almost outside the reception when he stopped, listening.
He could hear something that sounded like soft drinking. He held his breath and listened. The sound was coming from the reception room and reminded Lee of a baby suckling from a bottle, or a slobbering dog, he thought.
He stepped closer to the door quietly and peered round the corner. To his shock he saw Benny and someone else lying on the floor. The second body didn't have long blonde hair so he was sure it wasn't Amy.
There was blood around the bodies, and there in the room licking up the blood were Joe's other Dobermans. Lee was still looking to see if he could see Amy in the room when Hernanadez called out from the front door.
Lee jumped at Hernanadez's voice and the Dobermans looked up at him. The dogs began growling and stood up, tall and alert, with their heads looking towards Lee with a fixed stare. Their tails stiffened and shook side to side. Lee was froze as Hernandez called out again.
"Shut up," Lee shouted back. An impulsive response but a silly reaction. The Dobermans began snarling, baring their teeth at the trespasser in their home and slowly they started stepping towards him.
Human blood was dripping off their snouts, Lee couldn't decide if it was Benny's blood or from the body that was there in the room. The taste of blood and their training had activated their primal instinct to kill their prey on sight.
The dogs hadn't eaten and the corporeal form of the stranger in the doorway had interrupted their meal. "The dogs look rabid," Lee thought. He could see the aggression and predatory stare that the Dobermanns had while staring him straight in the eyes, he was sure that it was about to be accompanied by an intrusion into his personal space so Lee didn't hesitate to run from it. He turned his back to the canines and ran down the hall with the dogs behind him giving chase.
Hernandez was stood in the lobby and could see Lee running towards him, his first thought was "what the fuck is he running from?" and then he saw the Dobermans come round the corner of the door. Hernandez's thoughts turned from curiosity to fear and he turned and ran back outside where he stopped and waited by the front door, gripping hold of the door handle. Lee reached the lobby in enough time to get out of the house as Hernandez slammed the door closed, shutting both dogs inside.
Lee was out of breath, he had barely made it out and he had his hands on his knees as Carl ran over to them after inspecting Billy's blue Nissan.
"We got two dead in there," Lee announced. Breathing heavily.
"What about Amy?" asked Hernanadez. The man was clearly worried.
"Na, I couldn't see her, but definitely Benny and, my guess is, whoever that Nissan belongs to," Lee said.
"Carl, shut the garden gate," Hernandez instructed, "last thing we need is the dogs getting out here," he said, "I'm gonna call Joe." He looked at Lee. "Get hold of everyone and get them over here asap."
Lee still looked shocked, "The dogs were licking up the blood," he said.
"Well that's what dogs do," said Carl, as he returned from shutting the garden gate, "and go the road and bring the dead one up here. It can't be left on the side of the fucking road!"
Lee didn't argue nor did he ask questions, instead, he got in the Fiat and was back ten minutes later with the dead Doberman.
"This one's Whoo,"- he said, while getting out of the truck, -"It says it on his collar." Lee walked over to Hernanadez who was talking on the phone.
"Yeah Joe, it's bad news, we shouldn't speak over the phone. you need to get home fast man."
"What's happened?"
"Benny's hurt, ther.., there's..., the dogs are out!" he said, with reticence and not knowing where to start.
"Jimmy, tell me what the fuck is happening there, where's Amy?"
"She's not here Joe. Benny's dead and the place was wide open."
Down the phone Hernandez heard as Joe sighed and take a deep breath.
"Get everyone round to mine, yesterday," said Joe, "me and Frankie are on our way now."
"Already on it."
Joe hung up the phone. Carl and Lee were looking at Hernanadez waiting for orders. Hernanadez shrugged.
"We're waiting right here until he arrives. We ain't doing nothing while them dogs are roaming," he said.
-Chapter Thirteen-
That morning Malone had woken up with zero regret. The house was quiet, and Malone had left home early, he had some business errands to run before making a phone call to an old acquaintance he knew he could count on in a crisis.
Malone was in a cheerful mood, despite the growing weariness of the exertion his mental faculties had been exposed to while managing certain requirements in order to get something done.
The night before had been full of debate but Malone hadn't said a lot. He was a man who knew saying too much before you had chance to fully assess a situation was always a fools error, and he was no fool.
He had been concentrating on the urgency and considered all aspects of the current state of affairs and decided that, they should act fast if they didn't want it all to be for nothing.
That was important.
They wouldn't expect that.
He had set his alarm for 7am that day and had been out of the house by the time Caroline had woken up to the noise Hysum was making downstairs.
Malone had first made the nine mile journey to Islington and stopped by his office at his main pawn shop Loaned Luxury, before heading further south.
He arrived at his smaller shop around 9.45am and headed into the stock room in the back, where he stored lesser merchandise he considered unwanted items. Hidden in the stock room was where he had had a secret floor safe installed a few years earlier, and inside that safe is where he kept his cache.
Malone had an empty bag on the shelf. One of those large duffel bag holdalls that he used to use for a travel kit back in the days when he would take Junior away down South for long trips spent outdoors travelling, camping and generally seeing how the South of England was like compared to the busy streets of the concrete jungle they were used to.
The bag had served him well in those days and he had kept the bag on the shelf next to the safe ready for a situation like this one as the holdall had a 120 litre capacity, and today he thought he might need it.
He took the duffel bag over to the floor safe where he began loading up the bag with the inventory. Once done, he zipped the bag, locked the safe and went into his office to make his phone call.
#
Xandir had agreed to help, and Malone was on his way home. He had been in the car twenty minutes when he remembered the appointment Big Joe had arranged with the East Ender's McBride firm, which was set to happen that afternoon at 3.30pm.
He had bought the Lincoln for a tidy sum and the profit he was looking to make on it was even tidier, though what was he supposed to do in order to secure that profit?
He wondered if he should drive to Joe's and work this out, Malone was in this for a shit load of money, and he wouldn't let cash like that remain at stake.
Malone was sure Big Joe wouldn't have killed Lisa on purpose, it was more likely to do with what Junior had said about Lisa getting in the way, although his wife had looked at it from a different perspective and Caroline's point of view was simple.
It was clear to Caroline that Big Joe had not given Lisa the chance to remove herself out of the line of fire, and Caroline had a distinct image in mind of Big Joe keeping her niece in harm's way while allowing the others to gun the couple down.
Caroline wanted results, and Malone wasn't going to let her down. One way or another he would appease his wife's anger, but still, there had to be something he could do to protect his money as well.
He continued on his journey that morning reflecting on Big Joe's reasons, and the logic behind Joe's actions. Malone concluded them to be irresponsible, and that the man had acted unreasonably.
Xandir was coming to merely even the numbers. Malone hadn't mentioned that on the phone, but that's how was, he was outnumbered and needed that equalised so that the levels were evenly matched.
When he arrived home, Malone pulled up his drive way and switched off the engine. He sat there for a moment thinking whether the plan he was devising was worth it?
Taking the fight to Joe?
Of course it was risky. Then it hit him.
An idea struck Malone's mind and he was instantly convinced it would work. He had a scheme to develop, and there in the car, construct it he would.
The plan was simple, rather than retaliating to Joe's unfair business practices himself, he would instead have Xandir steal the Lincoln. Not before the deal, but after. "That way, I can keep hold of the Lincoln while keeping my family out of it," Malone thought, "have a plan, keep it simple. Effortless."
It didn't have to be complicated.
That will do.
He would have Xandir watch the car leave Big Joe's drive after the exchange and follow them until they could make their move. He would leave that part up to Xandir.
It would be that easy.
However, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
After Xandir and his boys would commandeer the Lincoln, they could then hide the car and make it all lead back to Big Joe, so it would appear as if Joe had double-crossed them. The firm would hold Big Joe responsible for the heist and deal with him in their own way.
The firm who were buying the car were well known, and Malone was sure they would launch an arranged attack on Joe's own turf, and in the process, killing everyone involved.
There was nothing to worry about, Malone thought he had covered all the possibilities, and he knew that his name hadn't even been brought into the deal.
He wasn't attached.
He was a silent partner for all intents and purposes. The Lincoln was even insured in Joe's name, just like Joe had asked. Malone had this under control. He just wouldn't tell Caroline what he was doing.
Other than the hired help, he wouldn't tell anyone.
They'd tell him it would be suicide.
#
The house was busy when Malone came in, everyone was up getting on with whatever seemed important to them. Most days would have relevant work tasks that needed addressing.
Margaret was going about her usual, running around making sure the house wasn't looking a mess. Not that it ever was, considering how many people were always treating it like their own, and Margaret would take full credit for the tidy environment.
"Cleanliness is Godliness," she would say, while clicking the on switch on the two washing machines before getting on with the mountain of washing that still needed to be done.
Caroline and Zoe were sat in the mid-day sun on the patio, and occasionally Blake who was in the study next to the kitchen, thought he could hear the women talking about him.
Was it just an ego rush. He couldn't tell.
Most people seemed relaxed.
Others were worried.
Dwayne and Junior were sat in the dining room discussing Billy's whereabouts while Hysum was still in the living room cleaning another weapon. The guy had ammunition scattered all over the room.
The rounds were everywhere.
There were 45's, 9mm's 42's, 7.62's, 5.56's, he had shotgun shells and even a box of 3.57's.
This was ridiculous, Malone thought, as he walked past the living room on his way to the dining room. He looked at his watch and the time was 12.55pm. That's when a Mercedes Vito personal trainer van pulled up outside.
#
Hysum saw the van pull up outside and he sighed, questioningly, he didn't know Malone was expecting company. He sat back on the couch waiting for whoever it was to knock on the door when he heard Malone's phone begin to ring from the dining room, where Junior and Dwayne were sat with Malone around the table.
Hysum signed again.
This time, he reached forward for the pistol he had on the table, he didn't know who was in the van or ringing Malone, and he thought he would be safer if the gun was in his hand rather than on the table.
He sat and listened to Malone's voice when Junior came to the dining room door way and called through to him to answer the front door.
He stood up, still holding the pistol, his eyes swiveled left to right as he looked around him at the collection of small arsenal he was amongst and remembered a quote he knew, he didn't know who had said it, but the quote had always interested him, "I learnt to play the instruments of war, and paint in blood," he said, to himself, as he shoved the pistol down the back of his trousers before making his way to the front door and closing the living room door behind him.
Hysum let them in, he stood in the hallway looking at Xandir, there was something about the guy that Hysum thought he recognized, he just couldn't pin point what it was or where from. He was about to ask what it was the three visitors did for work, to hopefully jolt his memory when Malone called out from the other room telling him to bring their guests through to the dining room.
Hysum did as he was asked.
Malone was sat around the table with his son and Dwayne, then stood up to shake Xandir's hand.
"We'll make these introductions quick," he said, to Xandir "we've a lot to talk about."
He called Blake to come and join them and at the same time Caroline came in from outside. Malone introduced Xandir to his wife and everybody else followed suit.
Zoe came in and stood behind Junior as Margaret sat next to Dwayne.
Everyone was there apart from Billy, and that had already been causing Dwayne and Junior to be concerned. Dwayne asked Malone if he knew where the guy had got to; if he had spoken to him at all that morning and Junior filled his dad in on the situation that the other members of the group already knew; that Billy was last seen in the dining room with them, earlier that day, telling them he was going round to Joe's, only adding further concern than defusing any worry.
Billy's phone was dead. They didn't know the man was too. Junior explained how that morning Billy had been determined to go over to Big Joe's but none of them believed he would've put himself in that situation, why would he do something that stupid Dwayne thought for the tenth time and moments before Caroline put the same feelings into words.
Why would Billy do something as crazy as sneak over to Joe's, feud or no feud. Billy wouldn't have any reason to be there any other time, so what caused the man to make what was already going on, his personal business. No one could understand, especially when all he had to do was wait a few hours.
Malone suggested they keep trying to call him and the more they tried only for it to keep going to voicemail, the more Malone and the rest of the group feared the worst.
Malone tried to ring Joe's phone but he wouldn't answer, the phone kept ringing out and it was giving Malone the impression that Joe just didn't care and Malone couldn't help but assume he was being ignored and for many reasons.
Joe obviously didn't want to talk to him about Lisa and Zed, nor the Lincoln and now it seemed like Billy had been added to the short list. Malone was pissed, he didn't understand why Frankie had tried to convince him to come to the party and then act as if he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. "Maybe it was better that I was late," Malone had said to his wife after they had gone to bed the night before.
He would have turned up to the party at some point, taken Dwayne and Margaret, Billy would have accompanied them. Zoe would've wanted to attend and even Caroline had been interested. It was only that Junior and the other two who were there from the start had nothing to do that previous afternoon, that Malone had told them to go in his name and represent the family before he got there.
After the initial introductions were out of the way with Xandir, Malone announced that he knew exactly how they were going to approach the position they were in and he asked Xandir, Ethan and Scott to join him in the study as he wanted to speak to them privately about the job they were being hired to do.
"This part don't concern the rest of you," he told the others.
No one questioned Malone's reasons why he wasn't bringing the gang in on this or involving them in the strategy discussion, most assumed it was to do with Xandir and his boys, and perhaps that personal discretion was usually how they operated.
Junior, Blake Dwayne left the room and went into the garden where they sat and cracked open some cans. Margaret and Zoe followed.
Zoe had had enough of listening about Billy, she didn't fancy the guy, but she didn't like to think he might have gotten himself into trouble, and she felt that if Billy was mad enough to go over to Joe's alone, then she must be twice as crazy feeling like she wanted to go and help him, but she knew if she did, then they'd both be missing and it wouldn't be helping things at all.
Caroline stood up and told her husband she was going for a shower while Hysum returned to the living room. Xandir and his boys followed Malone into the study where they sat and listened to Malone explain the plan ,which to Xandir, constituted as nothing more than merely a car theft, and really, to the new recruits at least, that's exactly what is was.
They were being payed to commandeer a vehicle.
A specific one.
All they had to do would be to keep surveillance on the vehicle and watch it leaving the estate, then follow it, steal it, then hide it, and all while framing Big Joe for the whole thing.
It was set.
Xandir knew what they to do. He took out his smart phone to check the time. It was almost 2pm. Malone told him where they had to go and Xandir wrote down the address. It was better that Xandir didn't use his own van and he asked Malone for a car, which was agreed, and Malone handed him the keys for silver Peurgeot he had parked near-by. The Peurgeot wasn't known as it hadn't been involved with any crimes. No one knew Malone had it. It was in Caroline's name and it could be destroyed after the job was done. Malone would report it stolen if he had too. It was perfect.
They had the address.
They had guns. All what was needed now were their gloves and balaclavas, and they had them in the van.
As simple as that.
What could go wrong?
And then came a knock at the door.
#
It was just after 2pm when Big Joe and Frankie arrived at the house. Joe sped up the drive and stopped his BMW beside Hernanadez' truck and could see them all waiting for him outside.
Joe madly jumped out the car and hurried to his front door forgetting his smart phone which he had put in the drink holder behind the clutch. He looked at Hernanadez who was approaching him alongside Lee and Carl.
"Where's Amy?" Joe asked promptly. His expression told Hernanadez that the man wasn't haven't a good day, and it was about to become a lot more unpleasant. Hernanadez was not looking forward to explaining to him why his favourite Doberman was dead and chose to let Joe go about this ordeal in his own way for the moment.
"Doesn't look like she's here mate, Hernanadez said, "But two of the dogs are in the house and Benny's dead in there,"
"How?" Joe asked.
Frankie met them all at front door.
"How's it going Jimmy? he said, "Joe give me the keys, I need the gate fob."
Joe passed Frankie the car keys and turned towards Hernandez.
"Er, we got to get the dogs to the kennels before anything else. They fucking almost attacked Lee," Hernandez pointed out.
"They're guard dogs," Joe reminded him.
"More like attack dogs Joe. Besides, Lee saw them licking the blood," Hernandez replied.
"Benny and Billy both dead?" Frankie asked.
"Billy?" Carl said, sounding confused.
"That's his Nissan," Frankie replied, gesturing towards the blue Nissan.
"Wait here, Joe told them, "I'm gonna see to my dogs."
Frankie left and went to close the main gates while Big Joe walked around to the garden gate and looked over the fence. He put his middle finger and thumb in his mouth and whistled trying to get the Dobermans attention. The garden was empty. Joe whistled again louder and called his dogs. The men at the front door heard a bark from inside the house and then another. Big Joe whistled again.
"Here boys," Joe shouted.
This time the barking came from the garden as the Dobermans came running over to the gate. The dogs were different than before. Their tails were high and wagging, their posture was more relaxed and their shoulders were loose. They recognized their owner and respected him like a pack animal respects their alpha. The Dobermans didn't have a fixed gaze on Joe like they had with Lee, their eyes were softer.
Lancelot wiggled and flopped to the floor then rolled onto his back. The dogs seemed chilled and playful and happy to see Joe.
"Sit down boys," Joe commanded, in a firm tone of voice.
His Dobermans did as he said. He opened the gates and walked into his garden. He called for Whoo, who was nowhere to be seen. Joe hadn't seen his dog in the cargo bed of the truck and Hernandez was yet to inform his friend of the bad news. He called for Whoo again as he led his other dogs into the kennels and closed the gates, he then pushed the bolt across and locked the dogs away. He called Whoo's name a third time. This time Hernandez and Frankie walked into the garden to meet him.
"Um, boss," Frankie said, "there's more you should know, and I told the others to go on in the front way."
Hernanadez walked over to Joe.
"Joe Whoo's dead," he told him.
Joe looked directly into his eyes. He sighed and questioned Hernandez on how it had happened and where the dogs body was. Hernandez explained to him exactly what had happened to the dog, but avoiding telling him the fact they had been speeding up the road. He had just finished explaining that it was an accident and that the Doberman was in the back of his pick-up, when Lee and Carl came out on to the patio in the back garden through the reception room and stood by the sliding doors outside.
"It looks like they shot each other," Carl said, in a raised voiced.
Hernandez looked at Frankie and Frankie gestured for Hernandez to follow him over to the reception room.
"It's about time we dealt with what's inside," Frankie suggested.
Big Joe left the others and made his way through the garden and around to the front of the house where the truck was parked. He went over and peered at the Doberman inside. He felt angry and almost flustered, "she's really done a number on me," he thought.
It was on his mind what Hernandez had told him about the main gate being left open. He turned his head towards the garages and couldn't see the Pathfinder. He knew then that it had been Amy.
This was his wife's doing.
She wanted to hurt him and it was clear to him that it was her fault his dog was dead.
He couldn't help feeling like Amy was trying to destroy his capacity for collected thought or any decisive action and he couldn't even get hold of her. He reached into the cargo bed of the truck and popped the lock open, he pulled down the tailgate hatch and picked up his dog.
Whoo was heavy and he was soft. His legs flopped down through Joe's arms as he carried the Doberman into the house.
Joe stepped in to the reception room carrying his dog in both arms using one arm to support Whoo's chest and reaching over with his other arm, looping it beneath the dogs abdomen, just in front his hind legs.
Carl and Hernanadez were over at the bar. They had taken the guns out of the dead men's hand and we're checking them over. As Joe walked over to the dining room table that had been pushed up against the wall, they all looked at him and watched him lay the Doberman down on the table. Joe then turned to Lee.
"Thanks," he said.
Lee apologised and was sincere. Joe understood and he didn't mention anything else. He knew the accident wasn't Lee's fault and after what Hernandez had told him, by all account he knew that the accident couldn't have been avoided either. Frankie was still knelt down over Benny's body that they had already rolled over.
"What's your thoughts Frank?" Joe asked, walking over to where the bodies were.
"Shot three times. Twice in the front, once in the back."
"And Billy?"
It was clear that the side of Billy's head was missing, it wouldn't take a post mortem to determine the cause of Billy's death.
Or Benny's for that matter.
"Shot twice, Frankie said, "but what's strange about it, is Benny was lying on his front."
"What you getting at Frank?"
"Well, who shot him in the back if Billy was already shot in the face? Seems to me like he was hit twice and tried to crawl away, then hit again."
"Yeah but it could be tha-."
"He's right Joe," Carl interrupted, "we got two rounds fired from each gun, but they've been hit five times between them."
There was pause in the group.
"Amy," Joe said.
"Sorry Joe, but yeah, it's obvious," Frankie confirmed.
It was clear to him what Amy had tried to do. Only, in the heat of it all, she had only fired Billy's gun twice.
"Frankie, call my wife."
"I'm gonna get a drink," said Lee, "anyone else?"
Lee stepped behind the bar and stopped still, looking down towards the shelf where Amy had left the gun.
"Uh Joe, I think her phone's here on the bar," he said.
Big Joe walked over to the bar, and there on the lower shelf was Amy's phone, and it was next to the Kel-Tec, semi-automatic pistol. He picked up the pistol and removed the magazine. He examined the clip and then checked the chamber of the gun.
"Five rounds missing," he said, looking at Lee.
The five of them stood in silence for a moment looking at the gun in Joe's Hand, before he switched the phone on to check the phones history for any clues as to what she was doing and where she had gone, but he didn’t find anything. The history was empty.
"I wonder what Billy wan-" Hernanadez said, interrupted by the sound of the intercom system. Frankie walked off into the hallway. He answered the intercom, then came back into the reception room.
"The guys are here," Frankie said, "I'll get the door, and should I switched the cameras back on?”
“Leave them off Frank, I’ll do it later. I think we’ll sort this mess out first.” Joe said.
Frankie left the room once more and returned a few minutes later with the rest of the crew. "Drive's getting jammed out there with all the cars," Frankie said.
Ray and Steve walked in behind him looking fresh and sober, as did Louis and Sarah. "Shit, what the fuck happened to Benny?" Steve said, "that's gross," Sarah said, looking like she was going to throw up, "is that Billy?"
Carley and Larry were last to enter and they weren't as sober as the others. "Aww no, Joe," Carley said softly, clearly upset, "what happened to your dog and fuck me no way,"- she added, pointing at the bodies, -"And where's Amy?"
Although usually when there wasn't much work to do, Big Joe wouldn't care if they had been drinking in the day, however, today something had occurred. Something had come up which would need people's full attention and Big Joe didn't appreciate them being inebriated, even if they had been given the keys to the club the night before.
Today needed their complete focus and he could smell the booze wafting from their clothes. He turned to Carley and Larry and told them to go make everyone some coffee. More for them to sober up than for anybody else. "Sarah, go help them with the coffee, and make sure it is a coffee they have," he said.
Sarah looked across at Joe and looking at his face she knew that he was really pissed off with Larry and Carley. Joe turned to Steve and Louis and asked them to bring in a sofa and some chairs from the sitting room next door, "And Ray," he said, "take everyone's keys and go outside and move the cars, make it look less hectic out there, fuck I'm surprised no one’s called the fucking police," he said, as Frankie turned to him, looking tired.
"We better do something with these," he said, pointing to the bodies on the floor, "It's now ten to three."
Big Joe looked at his own watch in such a way to confirm what Frankie had just told him. He looked up and turned towards Carl.
"Can you park the truck in the garage?" he asked, more telling rather than asking and Carl knew that's exactly what it was, "Frankie will open the doors for you. We'll put the bodies in the cargo bed for now."
Both Carl and Frankie left the room. Carley and Larry came back in, both carrying two cups of black coffee each. They put the cups on the bar and went back to the kitchen, passing Sarah on the way who was carrying milk and sugar on a tray. Joe turned to Steve who was on his way back with another chair.
"Why aren't we sitting in the other room boss?" Steve asked.
"I've particular work habits Steve, and we've never done business in there," Big Joe said, looking at Steve dolefully.
Steve nodded at him respectfully and continued on with the chair. Big Joe turned to Lee who was still at the bar.
"Lee, you'll find some sheets of plastic in the garage, go meet Carl and do that for me."
Just as Steve had done, Lee nodded in the same manner and made his way towards the hallway as Carley, Larry and Sarah were coming back in with more coffees. Joe turned to Hernandez.
"What a fucking bitch, Jimmy," said Joe.
"Pretty damn reckless, if you ask me!" Hernandez exclaimed, "the guys at the yard ain’t gonna want to see us again this soon!"
"Well, they're gonna have to, and that guy I caught Amy with, his car's parked somewhere close by, and that needs to go too," said Joe.
Steve and Louis came back in, helping each other carry a sofa. They put it down next to the bar and Hernandez sat down. The other two went into the garden with Larry, and the girls followed behind moments later. Big Joe sat down opposite Hernandez and was no longer paying attention to his dead Doberman.
Whoo was still on the table and although there was no sound sometimes after brain death has occurred the spinal cord will fire neurons causing minor muscle contractions, and Joe hadn't been watching Whoo's body when it spasmed for a few seconds giving the illusion of life.
A cadaveric spasm.
Nobody noticed the Doberman twitching on the table, as Frankie and Carl came back in with Lee carrying half a dozen sheets of thick plastic. They dropped the plastic down next to Billy's and Benny's bodies but they had also forgotten about the dead dog.
Frankie told Louis and Steve to give them a hand with the recently deceased that were still lying on the floor and asked Larry to make some more coffee. Big Joe had his back to the men at work and he had his head in his hands. Hernandez clicked his fingers in front of Joe's face which got the guys attention and told him he'd ring the scrap yard immediately.
"Sure," said Joe, "Jim, this was the first time she's killed anyone."
"She just put her hand in cold water," said Hernandez, "She's a woman scorned."
"No, Jim, she betrayed me, I'm the one who's scorned,"
"I mean she's disappointed and it's turned her against you."
"Fuck me, Jim, don't you think I'm disappointed in her? Locked in a love triangle with my wife and her boyfriend. She doesn't know what she's doing."
"Sounds like an article in a newspaper," said Hernandez, "and I think it's us who don't know what she's doing mate."
"I used to think the companionship between my wife and I was the same as the relationship I have with my casinos, both being unsinkable, but today I see them falling away on a titanic scale. They seem un-unsinkable."
"I think you mean sinkable Joe."
"Yeah that too. I'm gonna kill her Jim."
"We're almost done here man," Frankie called out, after the men had finished wrapping the bodies in the plastic sheeting.
Big Joe looked over in the men's direction.
"You know what to do then Frank,"- Joe said, while standing up and taking a few steps towards the door, -"I'm going upstairs, other than her phone and the pistol she left down here, maybe upstairs she left a clue as to where she's gone."
"Sure, the boys will put the bodies in the truck," Frankie said, "we'll take care of it."
"Jim, make that call while I'm upstairs," said Joe.
With that, Joe left the room, passing Ray on his way along the hallway.
"That's done boss," Ray told him.
"Okay, go wait with the others, and put a sheet over Whoo, I'll be down in a minute."
"Ahem," Ray coughed, "sure thing."
Ray cleared his throat again, he could see it in Joe, how much losing his dog was eating the man, and he didn't like to see his boss like it, "fucking bitch, Amy," he thought to himself, as he made his way to find a sheet.
Joe reached his bedroom feeling drained, he had a lot to think about and couldn't do it in the reception room. There was too much happening in there already. He just wanted some time to himself, even just a few minutes. With everything that had been happening so fast in the last twenty four hours and without any sleep, he felt exhausted and found himself becoming slightly dysfunctional trying to adequately operate his social relations.
He was beginning to feel unable to think clearly and if he was going to figure out where Amy had gone, before she brought anything else crazy to his life, then he needed to have his wits about him. It was important he remained compos mentis, or at least giving the appearance of a man who is completely sane.
While sat on the bed, memories of the night before returned to Joe's mind, and with a mind as occupied as his had been over the last day, he had genuinely forgotten about the Lincoln that was parked in his garage. The meeting was the last thing on his mind, and with that being the case, nothing in the house, or in his life for that matter, was prepared for the two affiliates of the McBride firm who were about to pull up at the main gates.
Every wall clock, digital time device, wrist watch and smart phone in the residence at the time said the current time was 3.27pm and as Big Joe led back on the bed and covered his face with his hands the men at the gates rang the intercom.
Big Joe quickly sat back up, he didn't know who was ringing the bell at the front gates, everyone was here apart from his wife and his first thought was that it was Amy, coming home. He stood up quickly and made his way to the top of the stairs. Simultaneously, downstairs, Frankie and Hernandez had also reacted with surprise at the buzzing intercom and Frankie had already made the decision to go and answer it, thinking maybe it was the police and how he was going to distract them.
The men at the gates told Frankie who they were and instantly the reminder was one of concern as the crew in the reception room hadn't yet moved the bodies. Frankie paused for a second when he heard Joe on the stairs and then called out to him to let him know who had arrived. "Better let them in then Frank," said Joe, as he reached the bottom stair and stepped into the lobby by the front door.
Frankie granted the McBride members access and activated the main gates. He quickly turned to Joe and said, "we gotta get those bodies to the truck."
"I'll tell Hernandez to move them now Frank, you answer the door and bring them through."
"Sure."
Joe left Frankie in the lobby, who turned and opened the front door. The firm members were just pulling up alongside Big Joe's TT. Ray had done a decent job of spreading out the vehicles in the forecourt so that it looked "pretty damn organized outside," Frankie thought.
Big Joe had already reached the reception room and was spitting out orders just like an army drill sergeant, and he was on top form with his supervision as his boys all worked fast moving the bodies from the reception room through to the garage and loaded them onto the truck.
First Louis and Lee carried Billy as the they were smaller than the rest of the crew and Billy didn't weigh much more than either of them. Carl and Steve were next with Benny who weighed heavier than either of them, but both of them being physically big built men found the task relatively easy, and as Frankie was shaking hands at the front door, Carl was pulling across the tonneau cover on the cargo bed of Hernanadez's Fiat pick-up truck.
Everyone made their way back into the reception room where Hernandez and Carl sat on the sofa next to the bar, the others made their way into the garden, except for Lee who went behind the bar and made himself a drink. Big Joe stood there waiting next to the bar as Frankie returned, bringing with him the two McBride henchmen, who walked in casually, not noticing the sheet that covered the dead dog lying on the table as they moved directly towards where Hernandez was sitting.
They knew Joe by face and reputation alone, but to Joe, these men were strangers. He held out his hand to the first McBride and introduced himself, then he did the same with the second man. The first McBride came in empty handed but the second man had entered carrying with him a black briefcase.
Hernandez stood up to formally present himself as the second McBride asked where the Lincoln was.
"It's in the garage," replied Joe.
"Can we see it?" said the first McBride, looking Joe square in the eyes, "we have the pictures but obviously we need to see the car in person before making the deal."
Joe agreed and he needed his phone in case he needed further information about the Continental and had to ring Malone, he remembered it was still in the car so he sent Ray back outside to get it while he took the McBride's through to the garage, operating the garage door on his way in. The installed boom above the garage door squeaked as the electric motor retracted the door up and over, then Joe watched patiently as the McBride's inspected the Lincoln.
When they had finished and were happy with their inspection with no faults discovered, the three men returned to the reception room to finalize the trade, Big Joe offered the men a drink in which they accepted and asked Lee to do the honors.
Ray handed him his phone.
Everyone was relaxed.
Except for Big Joe, and things were about to get more crazy, this was just the beginning.
And then Whoo twitches....
-Chapter fourteen-
"He has Billy, they're holding him there," Amy said, as soon as the door was opened.
Caroline's eyes rose in surprise, the prominent lines on her forehead creased, suggesting that, according to her aging process, she had spent more of her life surprised with her eyebrows raised than in any other facial expression.
"Joe has people there, they're ready to come here and kill everyone, I need to speak to your husband," Amy continued, her voice was serious and high-ranking.
She still had her sunglasses hiding her swelling eye, however, her busted jaw stood out conspicuously, and from the frightening announcement that Amy had made on the doorstep had made Caroline extremely concerned.
Caroline peered over Amy's shoulders, before looking left and right, checking to see if Amy was alone, and when there was no sign that Amy had company, she hesitantly invited her inside. Caroline felt solicitude for how Amy looked and what she had told her at the door, and although she was apprehensive, it didn't stop her acting in her usual manner towards the woman at her door.
"You'd better come in," Caroline said, conscientiously, "and what do you mean, people are coming and Joe's holding Billy there, is he okay?"
Amy stepped in, and Caroline closed the front door. She didn't want to take Amy through to the dining room right away as her husband hadn't finished in his study.
"Joe and Frankie..., and the others have him at the house, they were talking about killing him before I left," she said, nervously, "sorry for turning up like this, I didn't know what else to do, and Joe took my phone."
Caroline looked at her curiously for a moment. Her complexion seemed unhealthy and was clear to Caroline that Amy was scared of something, whether it was her husband or the fact that they had Billy or just being there at Malone's house. Caroline couldn't tell which.
"Who did this to you Amy?" asked Caroline, gesturing towards Amy's upper lip.
"Um, Joe did it, last night." Amy said, stiltedly looking at Caroline.
A click, click, click noise came from the front room next to where they were stood, and both Caroline and Amy turned their attention towards the cause of the sound.
Hysum was sat on the sofa, looking at Amy and listening to their conversation, in his hand was a small revolver, just like the one Amy had been searching for in the closet. The gun was empty of ammunition and the click, click they could hear was from the guns hammer hitting against the firing pin as Hysum was dry firing the pistol.
"Billy's in trouble, and who are coming here?" asked Hysum, with his eyes burning into Amy's as he stared at her critically, trying to determine the genuine existence of her story.
"He's in danger, um, if not already dead," Amy told Hysum, in a further attempt to force across her story.
"Well, we should go Caroline, we don't want people turning up here with our pants down."
Hysum stood up and walked towards the girls, he didn't know what to believe, but he definitely wasn't ready to bite. First he needed everyone else to hear Amy's tale, as far as he was concerned it was all speculation. He walked passed the girls and entered the dining room where he called for Junior and the others to come inside.
"Junior, I think you all need to come listen to this," he said urgently.
Malone was still in the study with the three new recruits. They had just about finished discussing their business and Xandir was almost ready to head out.
He had a job to take care of.
Hysum sat at the table still holding the revolver when Junior and the others came inside. Caroline entered the dining room followed by Amy, who Hysum thought, had begun to seem more nervous than she was before, in the hall.
"Sit down Amy," Hysum advised, "people need to hear what you told Caroline," he asserted.
Amy took the seat opposite him.
The look on Hysum's face was serious and firm. He for one was saving his sympathy for Amy's injuries, he didn't want to hear about her husband's marital injustices straight away, he just needed Amy to reiterate her account on Billy's whereabouts and big Joe's intentions to everybody else.
One by one, Junior and the others stepped into the dining room and surrounded the table, all looking surprised to see Amy. Margaret was the first to voice her concern about Amy's busted lip. Caroline pulled out a chair next to Hysum and sat down, she put her elbows on the table surface and folded her arms.
"Tell them, Amy, tell them who did that to your lip and tell us why?" Caroline pursued, wanting Amy to explain more about the state of her face. She couldn't believe Big Joe would have ever done this to his wife, and she was interested in hearing the reasons.
Amy looked up at Caroline as if to protest and quickly thought better of it, after all she was here to spread gossip and rumor in order to manipulate them, even if Malone wasn't yet present. She could still get the rest of the crew on board, she thought, as she swiveled her eyes from person to person and began charming her way through this difficult situation, after all she was a strong woman who knew what she wanted and how she wants it, she was there with the ability to be clever and out wit, and right now she knew exactly what she wanted from life, and that was making her husband pay for his mistake.
"My husband did it to me last night," she proclaimed, "he's having an affair, he come home drunk, and he beat me, because I told him I want a divorce," she said, scornfully, with a look of hurt in her eyes and a sense of self-worth.
"Ok, Princess innocent knickers, if Joe's hit you then it says more about United fans than anything," Hysum mocked.
Amy looked at him and sneered.
Junior looked at Hysum who was looking pissed off. Being told about Amy's feelings was the last thing Hysum wanted to be hearing.
"Amy, can you take off the shades?" Junior asked, politely, wanting a better look at her injuries.
Amy did as she was asked and removed her shades, placing them on the table top in front of her. Everyone looked at her purposely and seeing her swollen eye and busted lip, they all sounded their own version of interjections. A whole spectrum of "aw's," "ooh's," and "ahh's," filled the room, along with a few exclamations of "Christ's," "Oh my god's," and "Fucking hells," that expressed some of the groups disbelief of what they were seeing.
Hysum didn't have any patience left, he had had enough. He slammed the revolver down on the table and shouted, "And what about fucking Billy, and who's ready to burst through our fucking door?" he roared, "what are they doing with him, and when are they coming?"
With that everyone turned towards Hysum and then to Amy.
They wanted answers and fast.
"Where's Billy, Amy?" Dwayne asked.
"What, they're coming here. How long do we have?" Junior yelled worryingly.
All of a sudden the room went wild with concern, everyone started yelling questions at Amy.
Malone's study door opened and he stepped into the dining room, with Xandir, Ethan and Scott following close behind. Everyone turned towards the man and Junior could tell his dad wasn't happy and Caroline knew the look he had on his face, although it wasn't a look she recognized on her husband. It wasn't a look of anger, or disappointment, and it wasn't apprehension or fear that Malone was showing on his face, it was the look of someone who's been set-back or derailed by an unpredicted circumstance that has left them distraught where they've become unable to facilitate the actualization of a goal. It was the look of failure. Caroline just didn't know why.
Amy sat there in silence for a moment looking at Malone before he spoke.
"Hello Amy, are you going to explain to me very quickly why you're here?" Malone asked calmly, in his own way. He didn't want to scare the woman, if he did, she might refuse to talk and then he'd have to get firm and that would only slow things down. He was already feeling pressured by her just being there, as Xandir was about to leave and get on with the job he was being paid to do, until they heard this commotion kicking off in his dining room.
What did this bitch think she was doing, coming to his house with these stories and foiling his plans. He didn't know, but it sounded serious, as he had heard the urgency in Hysum's voice, so, perhaps it was more than serious, especially if Big Joe had people ready to pay a visit, that would be life-threatening and a tremendous amount of unnecessary chaos.
"I came to warn you all of my husband's plans," she said, "he's over there now, preparing to pay you a visit."
"But Amy, I've spoken to Joe," Malone lied, trying to use reverse phycology in an attempt to make her falter.
Amy almost cracked.
For a second she believed him.
She hadn't expected Malone to try and trick her in that way. "Fair play Malone, good try, nicely played," Amy thought.
She knew this was a crafty trick, because if Malone and Joe had talked, then Malone would already know that Billy was dead, and Benny. She knew Malone hadn't spoken to her husband because if he had she wouldn't have made it this far into her own dirty tricks.
"That's not true, is it Malone?" Amy disputed, countering Malone's statement and staring at him forcefully, "you're trying to trick me!" she remarked.
"What makes you think that's the case?"
"Well it doesn't matter if you had spoken to him. We both know if he was coming for you, he wouldn't be stupid enough to tell you."
"What the hell is going on you nitty cunt," Zoe yelled from the back, "Is Billy okay?"
"I don't think I like your tone, Zoe," Amy said.
"I don't like your fucking hair," said Zoe, "just answer me!"
"Okay, I think so," Amy replied, she didn't like Zoe's retort about her hair, "I mean, he was alive when I left, Benny was holding me upstairs and Billy was tied up in the reception room," Amy declared, "I managed to jump out the window and get away," she responded, almost whimpering with upset. Just then she felt herself welling up on demand and a tear formed in her left eye.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Blake jeered, "pull yourself together and get a handle on it."
Hysum looked at Blake and then back to Amy as Xandir and his boys moved around the side of the table.
"For what it's worth, I think you're as fake as a tranny's fanny," said Hysum.
"I'm not lying," Amy protested, as she watched Xandir and his boys move in front of her. Amy didn't recognize the three new members who were in front of her looking at her like they wanted to pick her up and throw her about. She looked at Ethan and thought he looked sexy the way his muscles were tense and firm. Amy liked that, and the look in his brown eyes suggestion he fancied her. "Any other time," Amy thought to herself, "another time, another place, perhaps." Amy always did crave a little attention, and most men bit.
"He's right," Hysum stated, "pull yourself together, you clearly came here for a reason, now what is it?"
"I told you, I had nowhere to go, I don't want Joe coming here after you, but he's gone mad after Zed and Lisa yesterday, and then me finding out he's been cheating, he's flipped. Then Billy turning up and he saw it as an advantage."
"How did you find out he was cheating" Caroline asked.
"I heard him on the phone before he went out, then he left his phone on the bar when he was with Jimmy Hernández, in the office."
Caroline raised her eyebrows. She looked over at her husband as Junior pulled out a chair and sat down, looking across to Amy.
"So, let me get this straight Amy," he said, "if we don't go over there and try in some way to defuse this whole thing and help Billy in the process, they're coming here to kill us, is that right?"
Malone looked down at his son, listening.
"That's right," Amy declared, "If you don't go to him first, he'll turn up here and he's ready."
Blake and Junior looked across at Malone. Everyone else kept their focus on Amy.
"We've got no reason to disbelieve her," said Malone, "as far as I know she's not a liar."
"She’s betraying her husband, just being here!" said Margaret. "That's right," said Zoe. "But he's betraying me," said Amy," all speaking together.
"Look what he did to her face," said Blake, "I'm not surprised she's here, she didn't fuck herself up like that."
"I don't want anymore mindless violence or innocent people killed," Amy shouted, "I just want it all to end, you have to trust me and protect yourselves from him, like I'm doing."
Zoe looked across at Malone and mouthed the word. "Liar."
"I'm not a liar Zoe, I saw that..., I swear once you're there, you can fix all this." Amy said.
"Let's not lose our obligation to the truth guys." said Hysum.
"I'm telling you the truth! Why would I lie?
"To confuse us and set us up." Hysum said, "like you're doing to Joe."
"It's not a set up, he doesn't deserve to get away with these things, cheating, hitting, me, murder. It's all wrong, it's been wrong a long time"
"Feels strangely like a set up to me."
"It’s not, this is real," said Amy. "I'm just trying to help. He said “it’s what it is.”
“It definitely ain’t what it ain’t,” said Junior.
"You're unbelievable Amy, you clearly have no interest in telling us the truth." Hysum said.
"It is the truth, just because the truth sounds unbelievable doesn't make it not true."
"I don't distrust her," said Malone, "she obviously feels helpless. It takes guts coming here."
"I don't know man, my guts telling me different....," said Hysum.
"I need your word Amy," said Malone, "I have to rely on it."
"You have it, you have my word."
Blake looked up at Malone.
"We had better do something then, and fast," Blake proposed, willingly and feeling the urge to act right away.
"I'm with Blake on this," Hysum restated.
Junior turned to Dwayne.
"What about you, he asked, "what do you think,"
"I'm inclined to agree with them, I think we'd better go over and see what this is about," surmised Dwayne, "and you man, what are you thinking?" he asked Junior curiously.
"We've all heard what she has to say, if my dad thinks we should mov-."
"You're going, thinking about not going is madness," Zoe yelled, interjecting Junior while pushing passed Xandir and pounding her hands on the table in front of them.
"No more talk, Zoe's right," ordered Caroline, respectfully, "you're all going so get yourselves ready," she concluded, looking across at her husband.
Malone looked his wife in the eye and nodded in an agreeing manner. Caroline took her eyes away from her husband and turned towards Amy.
"Let me ask you one last thing, Amy," Caroline demanded, "when Lisa was shot, why didn't you step in and prevent it?"
Amy had known this was coming and was prepared for the question more than any other question she could be asked.
"Because I wasn't in the room," she replied, "Joe had taken my hand and led me out of the room before it happened," she said, "I would have stopped it otherwise."
Caroline paused, still looking straight at Amy trying to see the lies hidden behind those blue eyes, but she couldn't. "The evil behind blue eyes," Caroline thought to herself as something clicked, but it wasn't the realization of the lies Amy was telling.
It was a hammer hitting against a firing pin as Hysum again dry fired his revolver.
Xandir stepped back next to Malone.
"So where does this leave us," he asked, "I guess we ain't taking the Lincoln."
Everyone looked at Malone, they were surprised to hear Xandir divulge the previous plan so easily.
"Plans change, you're coming with us," Malone told him. "At least my money will be there," Malone thought.
Amy's eyes widened when she heard mention of the car that was stored in her garage back at home and instantly she had worked out what Malone had been planning to do and what these three men who she hadn't met before were doing there. "I got here just in time," she thought to herself, that's why Malone was in the study, he was planning on stealing the Lincoln back for himself.
Amy liked it.
"Dark horse," she thought.
"Zoe," Malone said, "take Amy into the garden til I call you," he asked, "the rest of you wait here," he said, "I'll be back in a second,"
As he left the dining room, Zoe did what he had asked and took Amy out into the back garden. A few minutes later he returned carrying the duffel bag holdall from his car and dropped it in the center of the table.
"What's in the bag?"
"What's in there?" Junior and Caroline asked together. Malone looked across at Hysum.
"That ammo you got next door, it might come in handy," he said, unzipping the duffle bag, "hopefully we won't need it."
Everyone peered inside the bag and inside were Malone's own inventory.
"Take your pick," Malone said.
Everyone dipped into the bag and began emptying out the hand guns, and a couple of shotguns that had been specially sawn down to make the projectiles scatter faster. Blake picked up a shotgun.
"What's the advantages of one of these?" he asked Malone.
"For starters, they're easier to conceal," he replied, "but you'll never use this for hunting, so that leaves intimidation and tactical movement."
Hysum turned to Blake and interjected.
"If you're gonna use it, try to be in close range of the target," Hysum advised, "those things ain't accurate for wide fire lethality, you could miss altogether, and it takes time to reload, giving the target chance to return fire," he added.
"Is that the disadvantages in a game or in real life?" Blake said.
"That's the disadvantages in real life," Hysum replied, "with a sawed off shotgun, there ain't no disadvantages in fiction!"
Xandir turned to Malone.
"Talking about hunting, I've my hunting rifle in the van." Xandir said.
Malone looked surprised at this and another idea struck his mind.
"Go bring it in," he said.
And Xandir did.
Xandir returned from his van bringing with him a rifle wrapped in a small blanket. He unwrapped his .308 Winchester, Mossberg Patriot Combo, Bolt action. With its 20 inch barrel, the rifle wasn't very long but being a sporter suggested that it could pack a punch, and with a 3-9x40 scope, it would pack a very heavy punch from a good distance.
Malone liked it right away.
Dwayne reached out with both hands looking at Xandir and gesturing to him to pass over the rifle. Xandir looked at him and smiled before handing him the Winchester.
Dwayne took it and examined every inch of the rifle and checking it wasn't loaded before holding it up and looking through the scope.
"You fired it mate?" Dwayne asked Xandir, "what's it zeroed in at?"
"Yeah, a few times. Zeroed in at fifty yards."
"That should do, powerful huh, produces a good amount of recoil don't it," Dwayne said.
Junior stepped closer.
"How do you know, you ain't no hunter!" Junior mocked.
"Me and my old man used to go out deer stalking when I was kid," Dwayne said, "many a time I fired one of these bad boys,"
Malone was shocked by Dwayne's testament and asked Dwayne to join him in his study, he then turned to Hysum and told him to clean up the ammunition that was loose in the next room.
"Everyone sort out the correct rounds for the weapons," Malone said, as he led Dwayne into his office. He closed the door behind them and told Dwayne to take a seat.
"Dwayne, I want you on the rifle," Malone declared, while the two men were talking in his office, "I want you to position yourself on the roof of Joe's office and I don't want you to be seen. You'll have a clear line of fire. If Joe tries anything funny, I want you to shoot him."
"This is because I used to shoot deer ain't it."
"That's right, your experience with a rifle will be a great benefit to us. I'll get him in front the window," said Malone, "Keep your eye on him and if the prick goes for his gun, you'll be able to get a clean shot first."
"Yeah, I get you, I'll have to adjust the scope, but it should be fine."
"Good, what's the time?"
Dwayne looked at his phone.
"Um, it's almost half three."
Dwayne had agreed to take the rifle, there was no way he was going to decline this offer, this was a one-time offer he couldn't refuse and Dwayne felt privileged. He didn't want to stand with the others inside the house during an argument that could lead to a possible gun fight. He wanted to be outside, hidden and safe. If he had to be involved in it then he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
Malone led him back into the dining room where everyone was waiting to leave. Xandir and his boys were as ready as ever, as were Junior and Hysum. Blake was still loading up a clip with rounds. He quickly finished and looked up.
"You done Blake?" asked Malone.
"Yep, done," Blake answered, standing up and inserting the clip into his pistol, "last one," he said, pushing a final clip into his pocket, "let's go."
Hysum picked up the sawed off shotgun and handed it to him.
"Don't forget this," he said.
Caroline stood up from the table and walked over to Malone, she touched his chest, then hugged him and kissed his cheek.
"Be careful Mr Webber," she told him, "I'll keep Amy here with us."
All the weapons were concealed.
Everyone was ready.
Malone called Zoe in from the garden and Dwayne was hugging Margaret.
"Amy," Malone said, "do you want us to take you home?"
"I'm scared what will happen," she said, "I'll just head off I think."
Caroline turned to her.
"You're not going Anywhere, Amy, not till everyone's home safe," Caroline told her, "I'd prefer it if they didn't go, but going by what you've told us, they have to."
Amy turned to Malone.
"How do you plan on getting passed the electronic gates?" she asked, "are you planning on ringing the intercom?"
"Good point," said Malone, "is it a bad idea to the hop the fence?" he said, jokingly, turning to the crew.
"Then you might need this,"- Amy said, innocently, holding out the remote fob key for the automated gates. -"Let yourself in with this, it won't raise the alarm."
She suddenly realized while handing over her key that she had mixed feelings. Was it nerves? Or shame? Regret? Or loyalty? She didn't know. All she was certain of was her plan had worked.
She had convinced them.
And as she watched the men pull away in Malone's black Sedan and Junior's white BMW 3 Series, Amy became scared. What if they get there and they don't argue? What if the two groups discuss this situation and see eye to eye? What if her husband and Malone actually talk things out and resolve their differences?
It wouldn't be impossible.
Everything would lead back to her.
Amy had decided that there wasn't much she could do but wait and see. That's why she was scared, she needed to head deeper into her scheme, but how? And that's when she remembered she had Mike's phone.
She would go to the toilet and while in there, use the phone to text her husband and report Malone's intention to steal the Lincoln. Joe will be frantic when Malone turns up.
He should keep in mind there's nothing I do better than revenge.
Privacy and secrecy.
"Privacy is locking the door when I use the toilet," she thought, "secrecy is what I do in there when I don't need to go."
Amy had one last trick to pull out.
She asked Caroline if she could use the bathroom.
-Chapter fifteen-
Reiteration was essential, everything was set and it had to be clear. There wasn't any room for mistake or misunderstanding, clarification was the sole purpose of the discussion if things were going to work out the way they needed to happen. People were out to pay a visit and this wasn't any peace mission. How much of their time did they want to extend, and how were they going to go about it?
Was this a sensible step or was it a rash decision manipulated by an unfaithful liar to compromise, and ensnare themselves in an elaborate deadly trap? What went through Daniels mind when he realised he was condemned to the lion's den, cast to the pit and a fate that cannot be altered?
They were all loyal trustees, friends of friends, but Big Joe wasn't expecting any more loyalty from his wife, and so when his phone received a message from Amy telling him how Malone had hired people to steal the Lincoln, Joe had just laughed at the thought of his wife's planned path of destruction.
They were trusting the wrong person and the person they were trusting was the one person who was against them, so it would have to be the people they should be trusting who would be the ones to teach them the lesson they needed to learn.
Their sins were theirs alone.
#
"I've forgotten my fucking shades," Hysum declared, upon noticing Junior in the front seat stick on his sunglasses.
"Shouldn't need them inside," Junior replied, looking across towards Malone in the front seat of the car next to them, "you just want to pretend to perpetuate your explosive image," he sniggered.
"All right, all right, you win, it's what it is," Blake conceded, after hearing why Dwayne was in possession of the rifle.
The two cars pulled up at the gates of Big Joe's estate house and using the remote key fob, Malone activated the electronic system. The gates opened inwards without alarm and both cars continued up the drive way towards the house. The forecourt outside the house was busy with vehicles and for a moment, going by the number of parked cars, it seemed as if there could be thirty people inside the house.
"That's Billy's Nissan," Junior stated, on their approach towards the house.
"Yeah, and there's Joe's Audi's and his Bimmer," Malone added, "we got Hernanadez's truck in the garage and, those two there...,"- he said, pointing at a black Renault Scenic and a red Volvo V60, -"they're Ray's and Steve's."
"What about that one?" Junior asked, pointing at a silver Lexus IS.
"That must belong to whoever's here to buy the Lincoln,"- Malone surmised, at the same time looking towards the Lincoln, -"there it is in the garage next to the truck.”
"They're still here then."
"Apparently so, son,"- Malone confirmed, -"but on better one, that's our way in," he said, pointing across to the open garage doors.
Both vehicles parked up and the eight men made their way to the garage and stopped. Malone listened, checking what he could hear from inside. Faint voices were coming from the reception room and Malone saw their chance to make their move. He looked at Dwayne who had the rifle strap slung over his shoulder, and told him to wait until he could get across the garden without being seen. Everyone was crouched down ready to go. Hysum had his revolver in one hand and reached underneath his jacket and drew a Glock 17 with the other. Blake pulled out the shotgun that he had concealed underneath his coat as Junior racked the slide of his Sauer P250. The plan was for them to enter the house first with Xandir, Ethan and Scott bringing up the rear.
Malone led them through the garage where they passed the Lincoln and Hernandez’ truck. The integral door into the house was on their right and it was open. When they reached the door, they didn't stop. One by one and with cautious speed they quickly entered the hallway, then into the reception room and took everybody by surprise.
The actions were simultaneous as instantly everybody began shouting at each other. Except for the McBride's who remained silent next to Big Joe, who was stood at the bar next to Hernandez. Malone could see the documents for the Lincoln on the bar and wondered why the McBride’s hadn’t taken them as his eyes swivelled from the V5, to a briefcase on the floor, then back to Joe.
Carl and Steve were on the other side of the room over by the dead Doberman. Frankie and Larry were sat in the chairs near the centre of the room and had responded just as fast as Hernanadez, as they stood up ready to pull out their weapons. Lee was behind the bar, and Louis was with Ray and the girls at the patio doors.
In his surprise, Big Joe took a step backwards at the unexpected guests he was seeing, storming the room. He had his mini Smith and Wesson 442 tucked in the back of his jeans. At first he didn't know what was happening as eight armed men walked into his house. “What the fuck, what do you thinking you're doing coming into my fucking house,” he shouted, "and I didn't even hear them coming," he thought. An expression of sheer shock and horror had already set across the men's faces as they tried to figure out what was happening, and if they had been any lesser of men than themselves, there would have been the stench of shit in the air.
Hernandez was first to draw his weapon, and then the McBride's, before everybody else did the same and aimed their pistols in the direction of the intruders. Everyone reacted fast and voices were raised as the two groups all began shouting orders over the top of everyone else. Malone was aiming his pistol at Joe, telling him to remain calm over the uncontrolled torrent of voices and outbursts flowing left and right.
The Dobermans in the kennels were barking, trying to inform their owner of the presence of a further intruder out in the garden, though in all the panic inside the house, no one paid them any notice.
Hysum took a step further into the room, holding both his revolver and Glock at arms-length with Frankie and Larry on the receiving end. Junior aimed back at the McBride's with Xandir covering him, keeping his pistol still with the McBride's in his view. Carl and Steve had their weapons pointing towards Xandir's boys, Ethan and Scott, who also had their guns fixed on them. Blake stood firm in the middle of the group with the sawn off held over arm and pumped ready, just in case Ray, Louis or the girls made any sudden movements. And while that was happening in the reception room, Dwayne had made his way through the garden and onto the office roof where he had his sight on everyone.
He had waited out by the garage while the rest of his group had entered the house and only moved when he heard the shouting. He hurried across to the garden gate, that to his surprise he found unlocked. He had peered round the side making sure that part of the garden was empty and then darted over to the side of the house and again peered round the edge of the wall. He found the garden to be empty on the patio side too. He could hear the commotion inside the house where his friends had taking the room by surprise and when he was certain the coast was clear, he had crouched down then ran past the kennels and had hidden behind Joe's office.
Dwayne removed the rifle from his shoulder and had reached up to put the rifle on the roof before climbing up himself. Although he was anxious, Dwayne also felt excitement flowing through his veins before bringing the rifle up along-side him, doing his best to remain out of sight as he crawled into position. Then he brought the rifle up to his dominant eye and adjusted the scope.
#
The commotion inside the reception room and quieted down once Big Joe had ordered his crew to remain calm. The once tumultuous panic, disorder and slagging matches had turned into a quiet scene where everyone had everyone in a predicament of who was going to lower their weapons first. Neither Malone or Big Joe had given that order so the position was a serious example of a confrontation where no strategy really existed that would help either group to have victory. It was a standard case where any party who initiated belligerence could trigger their own ruin while at the same time being unable to remove themselves without suffering a loss.
While Malone stood aiming his weapon at Big Joe, his eyes moved to the right. He didn't recognise the two McBride's who were aiming their weapons at him and his son, although he knew who they were. Malone was also aware that nobody had motioned towards the briefcase on the floor in front of the bar.
"Is that my money?" Malone asked, tilting his head towards the briefcase.
"Is that the meaning of this visit, Malone?" Joe said, answering Malone's question with a question of his own, "I thought there would be more to it."
"The money's a start," Malone stated, "I thought these two would be gone by now," he said, tilting his head to the right, where the two McBride's where stood, "now where's Billy."
A moment of pause spread through Big Joe's crew at hearing Malone ask about Billy. Though everyone in the room stood firm and kept their stance, no one wanted to step down from the clear Mexican standoff they had found themselves part of and risk precipitating the situation they were in. Eyes stayed fixed on the man who was aiming at them and vice versa.
"Take your fucking aim off me before I put my foot up your ass," Frankie said, to Hysum.
"No Frank, you done Zed," Hysum replied.
"For fuck sake, Hysum," said Larry.
"Back off Larry," Hysum said, wincing with the sun his eyes, "it's nothing personal man, I just don't fucking like you."
One of the McBride's coughed and cleared his throat. "It seems we're witnessing the extremes of a tense partnership here," he remarked.
"You don't know the half of it," Hysum spat, "now shut the fuck up."
"Don't know the half of it. He means me and Amy," Joe thought.
Ray went to take a step forward.
"Freeze Ray," Blake said, "don't make things difficult for Steve now, I could blast you all away with this at this distance. So stay out my crazy way."
"Shall we just leave them to it?" The second McBride said to his friend.
"Stay put," Joe interjected, while keeping his gaze fixed on Malone, "you're both here for the long haul."
"Don't fucking move," Malone advised.
He looked back towards Joe.
"Where's Billy," Malone repeated, more firmly than before, "I won't ask again."
"You won't need to," Joe said, "Amy killed him."
There was no falter or hesitation in Joe's answer. His voice remained strong and firm.
He looked at Malone who was just about to reply. "But I was under the impression you were planning on stealing the Lincoln," he said, before Malone could talk, and gesturing towards Xandir, Ethan and Scott who still had Joe's men and the McBride's at gun point, "my only guess is, it was because you thought I was cutting you out of the deal."
Malone looked straight ahead at Joe as confusion filled his mind.
"Amy told you?" he said, "and you're telling me she killed Billy?"
"And Benny," Joe replied, "where is Amy, Malone? At yours with Caroline, I'm guessing?"
"That's right."
"Thought so," Joe said, "and that's how you gained access. She gave you the fob key, right?"
"Yes she did."
Joe moved to the left of the bar when Junior readjusted his aim.
"Not so fast, big man," Junior warned, with a serious and fierce look in his eye.
"It's fine, everyone keep your guns up, nothings been solved yet," Joe said, facetiously, looking around the room, "boys, boys, boys, ain't we got an issue to deal with?" he said, "there's your money Malone,"- Joe confirmed, pointing down at the briefcase, -"Now I think it'll be a good idea if we went to yours and fetched my wife, this is her party, and things can be resolved when she's here."
"One thing Joe, why Lisa? How did she get dragged into all this?" Malone asked, “Caroline wants answers, you’re the last person she’ll want to see.”
"We’ll be going to get my wife,” Joe said, “and Lisa, she wasn't part of the plan, it was unintentional, but she gave Zed a gun and he went to use it,” he said, raising his tone, “my guys did what they were supposed to do and unfortunately she was happened to be too close. Zed should've thought about that."
"And what happens when we get Amy?"
"I caught her upstairs last night with some punk, in my fucking house Malone, I think I'll deal with Amy."
"She told it differently, according to her, you're having an affair."
"Well why doesn't that surprise me. Listen Malone, I come home and catch her sleeping with a man upstairs and I reacted. She defended him and I threw her off me, Frankie and Benny tried stopping me. Today, she shoots Benny, shoots Billy, let's my dogs out to get killed, runs to you playing victim and spinning the truth. Then when you're on your way here, I receive a text telling me you're planning on double crossing me with the Lincoln,” “ahem,” he coughed, clearing his throat, “I knew it was her.”
"She told us you were planning on paying us a visit, Joe." Malone said.
"See, Malone, it's not hard to figure out what's going on here, and in case of any doubt, let me show you what she did to my fucking dog."
Joe stepped away from the bar and walked across the room towards the table where Whoo was led under the blanket. Malone followed Joe's advance and they both stopped a few feet away from the table. Joe reached forward and removed the blanket. The Doberman lay cold and still.
"See Malone. This was Amy's doing too."
Joe turned to face Malone and had his back to the open patio doors when suddenly Whoo twitched and took both men by surprise.
The women screamed.
Joe reacted by pulling his pistol from his jeans and a deafening crack of thunder filled the room as Dwayne pulled the trigger of the rifle once, dropping Big Joe to the ground.
-Chapter Sixteen-
Dwayne moved the cross hair across to Hysum, he was the one who's lips were moving at the time. Dwayne was trying to interpret the mood in the reception room by the man's facial expressions, "this would be a good time to be able to read lips," he thought to himself, while led there looking through the eyepiece of the rifle scope. He couldn't hear decisively what anyone was saying, all the voices and sounds coming from the house were less than muffled, all he could hear distinctly were the dogs barking. He had to rely on his vision. All he knew was people were shouting.
He could see Ray and Louis by the patio doors, they were stood with the girls. He knew Carl and Larry were next to a table that had some sort of sheet covering something pretty large, but he wasn't worried about whatever it was underneath. He needed to know where Big Joe was stood, and from his position he couldn't see where Malone was either.
Dwayne waited.
He couldn't hear, all he had was visuals, he was hot, he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead and wanted to brush them away, the sun was beating down on the roof, the feeling was intense. He hadn't been in a situation like this before. It felt nothing like stalking deer. These were people he had in the cross hairs of his scope and he could only read the situation by visuals of facial expressions and body movement.
He stayed there looking through the scope, keeping his eye on the people he could see, trying to read their faces, listening as closely as he could trying to determine the atmosphere. Taking the cross hair from person to person to person. Larry to Ray, Ray to Carley, Carley to Carl, Carl to Louis, Louis to Sarah, Sarah to Larry, then repeating the sequence. He kept his focus clear, checking their movements, their stances, even zeroing in on their trigger fingers once or twice to try to see how much pressure the triggers were under.
Hysum's lips began moving again and Dwayne watched for a moment. Big Joe walked out from the blind spot on the left side of the room closely followed by Malone. They both stopped next to the table.
Dwayne had his intended target.
Through the scope, Big Joe's tattoo stood out clear. The head of the phoenix was large and bright, dominating the left side of the Big man's neck. Dwayne aimed at the phoenix and held the trigger tight as he watched big Joe pull the sheet away from the table. Underneath the sheet Dwayne could see one of Joe's Dobermans. "It's dead, Joe's showing him his dead dog," Dwayne thought.
Then Joe quickly drew his pistol so Dwayne pulled the trigger.
He didn't see the dog twitch.
#
It had all happened so fast when the shooting began, as like an explosion, the reception room burst into a crazy uproar of chaos. What was happening one second was like daylight compared to the darkness of the next. Where in that darkness, only death could see back. Louis was the first to shoot after Big Joe saw the darkness, and it had been the missing shades and the sunlight that was shining in Hysum's eyes that saved his life. As the sun moved position, Hysum was having a tough time seeing his targets. That's why he had instinctively repositioned his head sideways, in a lateral direction, a half rotation and half flexion. Only a few centimetres, but that's all that was needed for Louis' bullet to miss his head. After that Hysum had returned fire, and by that point everyone in the room was shooting at everyone else.
What commenced beyond Dwayne's rifle shot, ended with most people dead within seconds. Most had jumped at the rifle blast, others ducked for cover. Those who had been thunder stunned were the first hit by the fusillade. The McBride's, Sarah, Steve, Scott and Ethan had bought their tickets first.
Uncontrolled and impassionate thunder cracks dominated every corner in a fray of discordance and unruly conflict. Propellant smoke rose from the gun barrels, filling the room with a subtle acrid biting smell of gunpowder as each bullet was fired from its cartridge. Expelled shell casings littered the floor like a brass carpet. Nostrils twitched from the smell and the smoke impaired their vision and stung their eyes while blood sprayed the walls and pooled the floor.
In the heat of it all, Frankie flipped his arm chair and scrambled to take cover as Blake fired off two shots, before holding the shotgun by its slide, he waved it in the air, allowing the weapons own weight to do the chambering. Ray heard the sound of the chambering round and returned fire, hitting Blake in the chest.
Hernandez leapt behind the sofa moments before Blake went down, he looked across to Malone on the other side of the room and saw Lee ducking behind the bar. Everybody felt the same fear and desire as everybody else involved. The fear was their mortality and being subject to death. Their desire was the common interest of not wanting to die.
Xandir was knelt over Ethan applying pressure to his chest while the blood from his wounds leaked through Xandir's fingers. There wasn't much Xandir could do as his face cringed at the heavy bleeding. He looked towards Malone who had flipped the Dobermans table on its side and had taken cover next to the dead dog. The actions of all in the room were rapid and insensitive, uncompassionate and focused.
From his advantage point outside, Dwayne could see Louis was wounded and crawling towards Malone. The rifle hopped back from the recoil as the .308 discharged it's round. Louis's left shoulder exploded and he flopped down over Sarah's body. Larry and Carl ran for the kitchen as it was the nearest exit to them. Junior had jumped into the living room.
Hysum held his weapons out at arms-length, firing off rounds into the smoke that engulfed the room, the hammer on his revolver click clicked as it hit the firing pin while dry of ammo. He dashed it aside and the revolver hit the floor. He aimed at Larry and pulled the trigger of his Glock 17, hitting Larry in the back, before the chamber of the pistol flicked back empty, Larry flew into the wall beside the kitchen door as Carl ran passed and hid around the other side of the doorway. He peered out at Hysum who threw his empty Glock at him before Carl could take aim. Hysum turned to Blake's corpse and dived on top the body and in one move he had clasped his hands around the shotguns handle and fired at Carl who had again taken cover.
Hysum then quickly retreated to the hallway where he also took cover beside the door.
Malone was firing over the table side as Lee fired a few rounds back at him. The gun fire echoed out above the other shots as the lead connected with Malone's hand. He yanked his arm back slightly, revelling his upper body, as Lee fired again. This time hitting Malone in the side of his head. Junior peered round the corner free shooting without a target as Hernanadez drew a bead on Xandir who was still crouched beside his dying friend. Hernanadez pulled the trigger and watched the explosion as Xandir's jaw dynamited into a thick and viscous red eruption, as Junior swung himself back into the living room.
Through the scope of his rifle, Dwayne could see Carley reaching for Louis firearm and positioned the cross hairs just below her armpit before taking a deep breath. He exhaled, inhaled and held it in as he closed his eyes and fired a shot. Again the rifle hopped and recoiled into his shoulder as the bullet left the gun. Carley flew sideways landing behind Frankie who was shooting at Junior. Dwayne pulled the rifle bolt rearward ejecting the spent cartridge, then pushed the bolt forward loading another round and then pulled the trigger. Ray flew backwards and landed in a sitting position up against the flipped table. Dwayne again pulled the bolt back and forward loading another round. He fired into the reception room before working the bolt and loading another round.
Blood ran down Ray's chin as he gasped for help, he was looking at Frankie holding out his limp arm, Ray was weak and needed assistance but Frankie was preoccupied keeping Hysum back behind the doorway when Junior peered back into the room and shot Frankie in the shoulder. The force knocked the man back and immediately he took cover curling up behind the arm chair, biding his time.
Junior again slipped back into cover.
Hernandez was still behind the sofa hearing Hysum and Carl exchange gun fire. They continued to hold each other back, firing at one another from their separate doorways. Simultaneously both guns ran dry. They charged each other and collided. They wrestled on the floor until Carl managed a lucky punch to Hysum's jaw. He kicked Hysum backwards and he tripped over a chair landing on a table that sent another chair flying. Carl stepped towards him as another rifle shot echoed. A bullet tore into the wall behind where Carl was stood. Without hesitation Carl ran through the kitchen door and disappeared from the scene.
Hysum led there in pain, the room went quiet. Hernanadez peeped over the top of the sofa, he breathed deeply and stood up and began making his way over to Hysum. He looked down at him and pointed his weapon when his back snapped with the impact of one of Juniors .45 calibre rounds and he fell on top of Hysum who passed out under the weight.
The action stopped.
#
Dwayne watched the room through the rifle scope. He was hot and the adrenaline had begun to make his hands shake. Beads of sweat ran down his face from his forehead and the sweat was running down his back soaking his shirt. His shoulder hurt from the heavy reaction of the recoil. He wanted it to be over. He wasn't used to this sort of work and he especially never had to kill anybody before, "I think they call it, putting your hand in cold water," he thought to himself, as he stared at the magnified focal point that was the bloodbath in front of him. That's what they say when you first kill a person."
The dogs were still barking from their kennels and Dwayne knew the police would be arriving soon. There wasn't any movement in the house and time felt like it was standing still. Dwayne led there wanting to move, he wanted to leave and return to Margaret, but he wasn't going anywhere before checking on his friends. A few moments later he heard Junior calling out. "Junior’s alive," he thought. Dwayne didn't answer to Junior’s calling, he remained quiet and carefully climbed down from his vantage point. His legs felt like Jelly as he made his way across the garden and approached the patio doors.
He didn't stop there.
The office roof had offered Dwayne a fantastic viewpoint, but now, here by the French doors his perspective had changed. He was no longer looking down on the situation from a superior height, here he was amongst the carnage. He was still carrying the rifle when he stepped into the house, the dead were lying everywhere, as was the toppled furniture,
"Whatever wasn't tied down's upside down," he thought, as he found it impossible to determine the directionality or trajectory of the bloodstains and bullet holes on the walls.
Dwayne slung the rifle strap over his shoulder and took out his pistol. He called Junior.
Junior called back from the living room.
"I'm in here," Junior called.
Dwayne steadily stepped over Carley, and then Frankie who was still moving.
"Frankie's aliv-," he tried to say, as thunder cracked through his rib cage and stealing Dwayne's breath away from finishing his last words.
At the sound of the gun shot Junior leaned around the side of the living room doorway and saw Ray still holding his weapon at arms-length. It had been him who had shot Dwayne. The gun shot had also stirred Hysum who was led by the reception room door stuck under the dead weight of Hernanadez. He stayed quiet. Junior aimed at Ray without asking questions and blew the side of the man's face away. "That should do it," Junior said. He sat down against the wall as the arm chair moved and Frankie
stood up running towards the patio door. Surprised, Junior stood just as Frankie reached the exit. At the same time Lee hopped up from behind the bar and took a shot at Junior and missed. Junior returned fire and gunned the man down.
The action stopped again.
#
Over by the reception room door Hysum murmured and began to move. He pushed Hernanadez, a difficult task for a man of Hysum's size as Hernanadez was over a stone heavier. Junior went to him and offered his help. Hysum needed it, then Junior helped him to his feet. Together they looked around the room. Hysum saw bullet holes, Junior saw the people around the bullets.
"I knew it man, I knew Amy was fucking lying,"- Hysum said, declaring his earlier suspicion while looking around the room, -"is it just us?" Hysum asked, "Where's Dwayne?" he inquired, as he retrieved both his firearms from the floor.
"Dead, except Frankie, he got away," Junior clarified. He looked grave and angry. He walked over to the flipped table where Malone was lying. A single bullet hole centred the man's forehead. His eyes hadn't closed and were staring back at Junior. Hysum approached him and knelt down beside Malone.
"Sorry man," he said quietly, his voice almost becoming a whisper, "she's responsible, you know that right?" he claimed, as he closed Malone's eyes.
"I know, but it was the old man who told Dwayne to shoot Joe though, that's how this shit storm started, tryna be smart with a fucking sniper," Junior avowed, convincingly, looking at Hysum.
"Sure, but we can't let it tare the sails of our raft."
"Yeah, anyway come on man, police can't be far off!" Junior said, urgently, then slightly changing his tone, "Margaret and Caroline ain't gonna want to hear what's happened here, this is fucked man!"
"Shit, Margaret's just the cleaner to me,"- said Hysum, jeeringly, in a groggy tone, while wiping his prints off the shotgun and Blake's pistol, -"fucking Carl got out too!"
The Dobermans in the kennel were still crying out loudly as Junior went to the bar and picked up the briefcase, he then turned and rummaged through the McBride's pockets until he found the key to the Lincoln,
"Fucking dogs man," Hysum said, as they were just about to leave the house, "the fucking police will have to deal with them man."
Junior and Hysum quickly got their shit together as they heard the sound of sirens close by. In a rush, they didn’t remember the change of ownership documentation for the Lincoln that was still in full display on the bar when they left the house, taking Junior’s BMW and the Lincoln with them.
They didn't notice Hernandez's truck was missing.
#
The loud, high-pitched wail of the police sirens grew louder with every unsteady step Frankie took, and as he stumbled down the road, he felt like every police car in the world was chasing him. Movement was difficult, his shoulder was throbbing and the pain was extreme, unlike when Junior had opened fire and the bullet first struck him. At that point surprisingly it hadn't hurt.
Frankie was more surprised than feeling any pain. He compared the impact to being punched or having a big stone thrown at him, a stone big enough to knock him back, the way him and his friends used to do in the parks when he we as kid.
Considering the chaos of the gunfight around him, with people shouting and stumbling, rifle fire echoing outside, errant bullets crashing into or ricocheting off the walls, there was no reason to think a thrown stone, some random fragment of concrete wall would be the cause of his surprise, so he reluctantly accepted that he must have been shot.
The bullet entered his shoulder just above his chest and to start with, it didn't hurt, there was no pain, just burning from the hot metal, an irritating pulsating sensation that travelled outwards from where the bullet was buried.
He had passed out in the foetal position behind the turned arm chair after that and had woken up when the pain got worse, then as he escaped from the house and begun making his way down the street, the pain had gradually grown more and more painful to the point where it had almost become excruciatingly unbearable.
Now he was feeling the onset of shock. His blood pressure had dropped, his skin felt clammy and he believed he was coming close to passing out. He couldn't do that, that would only draw more unwanted attention and he'd be picked up and thrown into jail after the paramedics had rushed him to the hospital for emergency surgery to extract the bullet from his right shoulder. "Wouldn't need surgery if the bullet had exited," he thought. He couldn't let himself pass out. He wouldn't allow that to happen, so surrendering himself to an inevitable unconscious state would have to wait.
Armed response units whipped past him at high speed and Frankie tried the best he could to be inconspicuous, just another member of the general public, when to his horror a police car stopped up the road behind him. He turned to look then quickly turned away, the sirens yelped and flashed in his rear as he was approaching a crossword. His right arm had gone numb and limp and his stomach had begun cramping from nerves.
The shoulder holster concealing his pistol was tight and it crossed his mind to unfasten the strap lock and discard it, but he thought better of it. Frankie just needed a way off the street. he was too anxious to look back, but he was sure he wasn't being chased. He couldn't run, his legs were shaking and they felt like giving up underneath him, no way would he allow his own body to let him down now, not after he had gotten this far.
Bullet wound or no wound.
He forced himself forward.
Frankie reached the end of the road and turned the corner, his need to get out of the area had turned into desperation, dizziness had set in and he thought he was about to pass out.
The next street was quiet. Not many houses and Frankie knew he stood out like a sore thumb. This wasn't the first time this week Frankie had felt overly noticeable out in public. He wasn't only literally standing out, stumbling along in broad daylight, he was also heavily wounded and right then Frankie would've been unmistakably obvious as a particular person if he was in a busy crowd of people.
Grimacing from the pain he continued to force himself on, one foot after the other. Sirens wailed and yelped in his ears from neighbouring streets, it was only a matter of time before a flashing Battenberg, yellow and blue would come his way.
Frankie felt like jumping into a back alley or nearby bush as sirens approached the crossroad behind him, the police cars reached the turning to his street and continued on past, on their way towards Big Joe's. Frankie took a deep breath and sighed in relief.
As he stumbled along, the bullet in his shoulder muscle felt agonising as if his tendons had pulled everything out of place. He was praying for somewhere to pass out. He needed an escape. He felt sticky and wet, his shirt and jacket was soaked in blood, and the blood had ran down the inside of his arm and had began to drip off the tips of his fingers.
He was tired, near exhaustion, the pain had travelled up his neck though he managed to look behind him again, the street was still quiet but he noticed he had been leaving a trail of blood droplet's on the pavement in his wake.
Coming from down the road in front of him he heard an engine, then moments later he could see a black vehicle coming towards him. He couldn't see a siren attached to the roof and he hoped it wasn't an unmarked police car. Frankie risked it, he took his chance, stepping from the pavement and stumbling into the middle of the road.
Frankie had become less of a risk taker as he got older and he had become more wise and set in his ways, but Frankie had created a predicament for himself, and the course of his life had changed when Zed had asked if he were in danger. Now Frankie knew what it was like to tell the first lie. That lie that once believed was extremely difficult to undo and changed everything.
As the approaching vehicle got closer it began to slow down and Frankie took out his Colt. He aimed at the car and realised it was a taxi but Frankie didn't care. He raised the pistol and aimed at the windscreen as the taxi got closer.
"Stop," Frankie shouted, "stop, stop the car."
The driver of the taxi recognised Frankie.
Frankie didn't yet recognise the driver. In his desperation and distraction Frankie hadn't recognised or remembered the black Volkswagen Passat from the previous day.
The driver of the taxi didn't hesitate as he quickly reached under his seat where he had recently hidden a .22 snub nose revolver that he had bought using Frankie’s money.
Frankie had gripped hold of the door handle and was opening Kristos Bartosweshka's door, but this time the Eastern European was ready, and as the door opened, Frankie found himself face to face with a snub nosed .22.
Frankie froze, and peering into the eyes of the London taxi driver, Frankie said the first thing that entered his mind, before the bullet, "In all of fucking London" Frankie said.
-Chapter seventeen-
He wasn't prepared for what he was about to encounter, and as Junior drove up the road towards the Malone residents, noticing a silver Fiat Fullback parked outside, he broke into a cold sweat. Seeing the truck present at his house told him one thing and he knew right away that this thing wasn't over.
Sickness descended upon him as he begun to worry, back and forth his eyes swivelled from the truck to the house and although he couldn't see any activity, he began to fear the worst. He knew Carl was around somewhere, he wouldn't have parked his car outside, failed to get inside the property and had just taken off on foot, leaving the truck behind, and as both cars rolled up outside the house he noticed the front door was slightly open. He parked his car next to the truck and switched off the ignition as the Lincoln pulled up beside him with Hysum behind the wheel.
Junior hopped out the Bimmer fast without hesitation, his weapon was already in his hand.
Hysum followed in suit and together they hurried up the driveway and barged through the front door.
Fear had taken over and replaced his worry with an emotion far more alerting. He felt dread as he perceived the threat and sheer presence of the danger that was somewhere inside the house. Hysum didn't ask questions, he was aware of the severity of the situation. It wasn't themselves they were scared for. It was the women that had been home alone.
Caroline could protect herself, but up against a man line Carl, Junior was sure she wouldn't have been able to protect herself for long, and by Amy's recent actions that had left both Billy and Benny recently departed, Junior thought she might have a fighting chance too, especially if the four of them had worked together.
Junior and Hysum walked further into the house, closer to dining room. The door was closed and Hysum checked the living room.
"Clear," he said, confirming the room was empty, with his back to Junior, he turned towards the dining room with his weapon raised.
The house was silent.
Junior could feel sweat on his forehead as he approached the dining room, he reached for the door handle as Hysum still aimed at the door.
He worked the handle.
Slowly he opened the door, then pushing it open the rest of the way, still aiming inside the room.
"Nothing," he said, when there wasn't anyone directly ahead, "after you."
"Famous last words," said Hysum, as he entered the room with the open door on his left hand side.
A single gun shot rang out, and the bullet broke off a piece of the door above the handle and went tearing into Hysum's stomach above his navel. He returned fire, then stood there looking forward before looking down at his stomach. Blood seeped from the wound and his eyes watered.
"Clear," he said, confidently, as his legs gave out.
Shocked, Junior stepped forward, catching the man as he fell. He knelt down looking at Hysum and holding him in his arms while he led there on the kitchen floor. He didn't writhe or fidget from his discomfort, or display any distress from his physical pain. He lay there not moving, his body still, while looking straight ahead.
"Bitch, got me," he said.
Junior looked forward, the door to Malone's study was closed and there laying on the floor in front the study door was Amy and Carl, but it was Amy who was holding the gun. Carl had been stabbed. A long bladed kitchen knife remained in situ, impaled into the left side of his posterior chest where the handle protruded.
Junior looked back at Amy.
A small, single entrance hole about the size of pencil ferrule from Hysum's .38 special was imprinted on her forehead. It was a clean shot, there was hardly any presence of blood where the heat of the bullet had cauterized the wound upon entry, and Junior thought, if he didn't know she was dead, he could have mistaken her for being asleep.
Hysum started to shake, as Junior heard faint murmurs and knocking from inside the study. Hysum heard it too, and he tried to move.
"Just lay here," Junior advised.
Hysum's body shook all over and he was getting cold.
"Go to them," he said, "I'll wait here, I'll be fine."
As carefully as he could, Junior slid himself out from under him and gently rested the man down, he removed his jumper and gave to Hysum.
"You need to keep pressure on it," he said, putting the jumper over the stomach wound and pressing Hysum's hand down on top.
He stood up and went to the study door. Even though he was satisfied there was no more threat in the house, he remembered that Frankie had also managed to escape from Big Joe's, and keeping that in mind he slowly and precariously opened the door, still keeping his index finger bent around the trigger of his pistol.
Inside the study it was dark, someone had switched off the light and closed the blinds, the murmurs were louder inside the study and it occurred to Junior that his friends were trapped. He aimed into the darkness, it made him feel safer. He raised his left hand and clicked the light switch. The instant light penetrated the darkness, illuminating the study and to his delight he found Caroline, Margaret and Zoe, huddled together behind Malone's desk.
They had been restricted and confined to the darkness of the study with their hands bound behind their backs with tape, and they were gagged. Caroline's eyes widened, and popped from her head the second she saw Junior, and Zoe's eyes did the same. Margaret had a glazed appearance about her like someone who had retreated inside themselves. They all looked desperate and terrified, their faces were red flushed like someone who has over heated due to an extreme work out or heavy drinking. The muffled sounds of their moans and whines increased as they desperately urged to be set free from their restraints.
Junior didn't hesitate. As soon as the lights shined upon the captives, he acted fast and efficiently by unbinding his friends. He first helped Margaret who soon became aware of his presence and began helping him with other two.
"Where's Amy? Is she dead?" Margaret asked, the glazed look she had a minute before had disappeared and she was more calm.
"Next door," Junior confirmed.
"There was two shots, are you ok?" said Caroline, as soon she could talk.
They heard a groan from the other room and Zoe looked at Junior as to say who's that, when Hysum groaned again.
"She got Hysum," Junior told them, "he's in a bad way, I gotta get him to the hospital.
"Margaret go to him," Junior ordered.
He finished untying Zoe and she hugged him right away.
"Thank God you're safe," she said, standing up, "I knew Amy was a liar, you and Hysum knew it."
"So did you, you were right all along,"- Junior said, leading the way back to the kitchen, "She got everyone killed,"- he said, pointing at Amy.
"We know," said Caroline," Carl stormed in, shouting at her about it.
Junior went to help Margaret who was knelt beside Hysum applying pressure to the wound.
"He's not good, Junior," she said, looking at Hysum, "I don't think he's gonna make it."
"He won't if we don't get him help and fast," Zoe said.
"Ring an ambulance, Zoe." Junior told her.
"Amy took the phones," she said, "they’re not in here,"
"Use mine," he said, passing her his mobile. Junior turned to Caroline. "What happened here?"
"Carl burst in going mad at Amy, dragging her by the hair towards the study, he threw her against the side, that's when she grabbed the knife. He didn't know what had happened, but she then she grabbed his gun, took us hostage and locked us in there," Caroline summarized.
They all looked down at Amy and then to Carl. It was the first time that day things seemed calm and threat free, despite the deaths that they had all been involved in. Junior stood up and took a deep breath, he leaned forward and put his arm around Zoe.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too," Zoe replied.
Caroline walked over and put her arms around them both as Junior looked down at Margaret and Hysum.
That's when they heard the yelp, yelp of a siren.
"Ambulance got here quick," Margaret said, standing up. She quickly went to the front door and then returned a few seconds later with a look of horror on her face.
"There's loads of armed police out there," she said.
Junior looked at her in disbelief.
"How'd they find us?" he said, as Hysum closed his eyes and answered the question with his last words.
"We should have left the Lincoln," he groaned, for the last time.
The End
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