Graven Image (7 page)

I just stared at him for a bit, bouncing from one eye to the other. ‘And Graven? What about Graven?’

‘Can’t help you there, Lee. Only you can sort that one. But do yourself a favour, eh? Do everyone a favour: when you find him, get it sorted. Once and for all, like. Maybe...’

‘Maybe what?’

‘Maybe you should finish him off.’

‘Eh?’

‘I meant... ah, nothing.’

Calming down now. Trying to slow my heartbeat, get on top of things. This was serious shit and I needed answers. I grabbed his jumper and posed a question:

‘How come you know all this?’

I knew he’d switched off from me now, said all he had to say. He was waiting for me to finish. Waiting to go home.

I had the BB gun in my pocket. I wasn’t sure why I remembered it at that moment but I did. I wanted to get it out and fire it in Darren’s face, punish him for... I swear I don’t know what.

‘Oi!’

It came from behind me, a female voice, quite young and carrying a lot of bolsh. For some reason I thought it was Kelly, and I turned. I couldn’t breathe. Some teenagers were up on the bank, hands in pockets, hoods up.

‘Oi!’ it came again.

You’d never have known from their outlines that one of them was female. How could I ever have thought a voice as harsh as that could be Kelly’s? It was more like her mum’s.

‘Are you hearing me or what?’ she said. ‘I want me money.’

‘Money?’

‘Half now, half later, you said.’

‘What for?’

‘Are you thick or summat? For ringing that number and saying all that “where’s Kerry?” shit to some bloke called Leon. So cough up, you fuckin’ mong!’

I got the BB Gun out and fired it at them, making them disappear. A minute or two later, after I’d chucked the gun in the canal, I remembered Darren in time to catch a glimpse of his back disappearing into the tunnel. I shouted his name as I went after him, but I knew I’d never catch him.

I couldn’t make sense of it. Birchwood? What was someone like Graven doing at Birchwood, let alone holding a girl there? There wasn’t even a building, unless he had keys to the very public one in the middle. And this is Graven we’re on about here.

We’re talking
influence
.

I was carrying on down the canal path, thinking this. I didn’t know where Darren had gone. Didn’t care.

Did care.

And there’s no point denying that. But friends end up betraying you, always. Even best ones. Especially best ones. I couldn’t worry about that. I had to think and breathe and walk. Towards Birchwood.

I was there in ten minutes. Or maybe two hours. My throat was parched but I ignored it, thirst wouldn’t hold me back. I walked along Birchwood Road, skirting the perimeter wall, looking through the trees. Could it be true? Or was Darren just feeding me bullshit? Why not? Carla had fed it me, saying Kelly was at Destiny. No one was at Destiny.

Not even
Destiny
was at Destiny.

Which meant Destiny had to be somewhere else.

‘Yo, Nigger!’

Sometimes you react before thinking. Quite often I did that, actually, but sometimes it’s like a taut wire snapping, a catapult fired. Before my next breath I had the kid in a headlock, face-down on the wet pavement. That’s how keyed up I was.

‘Oh cm om!’ he was trying to say, chewing concrete. I took my knee off his head. ‘Oh come on! I ain’t having this shit! They call each other niggers in films all the time! Ain’t you even seen
Pulp Fiction
?’

‘You call someone nigger, you are a nigger,’ I said, still sitting on him. His pal Gnash was a few yards off, stepping around like he needed a piss bad.

‘Yeah, and I told you - I got a bit of black blood! My great-granddad was a sailor from Liverpool and he was black like coal! I swear! That makes me a nigger, bro. And
that
means I can say it to other niggers.’

‘Well, I ain’t a nigger, so you can shut your white mouth!’

‘But...’

But bollocks. I was off down the road. There was less trees round the other side of and maybe I could get a better view. Of what? I still couldn’t see how Kelly could be here. Or if she was, she was well hidden. No way was I gonna find her without some more intelligence. There was no way around it:

I needed to find Graven.

‘Mate!’ the lad was shouting, running to catch up. He was heading for a kicking, this Sid character. Another time I’d give it freely. ‘Mate, just hold up a minute! I got summat for you.’

‘I got summat for you as well: free dental job, via my black fist.’

‘Look, I understand why you’re being like that.’ He was alongside me now, waving his arms around. His pal had more sense, being about ten paces behind. ‘It’s natural for black people to have a chip on their... Alright! Alright. I won’t say no more about the righteous struggle. I just wanted to let you know, well...’

He looked left and right. Birchwood Road was deserted. When he turned his head I saw the five inch long slash, butterflied up on his cheek.

‘Where’d you get that?’ I said. Not that I gave a shit. ‘Cut yourself shaving? Give it a couple more goes and you’ll get the hang of it.’

‘I don’t mind it. I’ve adjusted to it already, see? Only got it stitched half an hour ago and I’m easy with it. That’s what I’m about. I adapt and react - that’s how I’m gonna take over here. People will call me Scarface from now on.’

‘People will call you wanker. Same as they do now.’

‘Whatever. I ain’t fuckin’ around here. You put in an order, I’ve come through for you.’

‘What order?’

‘You know what.’

‘A gun? You already gave me a gun. A shit one.’

‘This ain’t about the gun. I’m on about the other thing you wanted.’

‘
What?
’

He chewed his gum five times. ‘Graven.’

My balls tightened.

I was driving.

I insisted.

Even with all this shit going on, I still found it in me to enjoy the smooth handling of the Beamer. Even a knackered old 316i like this one. Kraut engineering stays the course, no matter how hard you thrash it.

I was thrashing it now.

‘Just tell me,’ I said. It was the second out of three times I was going to say it in a polite and patient manner. Three strikes and you’re out was being very generous, I thought. Next time, he was going to find out how it feels to be out.

I made sure he wasn’t strapped in, then looked across his lap at the passenger door handle. Seemed like an easy movement.

Reach. Open. Shove.

You’re out.

‘Just through the grapevine, you know,’ he said, touching his stitches. ‘Like Marvin Gaye.’

‘How did I know you’d mention Marvin Gaye?’ I said.

He gave me an innocent smile. ‘Do you think black minds think alike?’

‘What I think is that I’m gonna ask you one more time. How do you know Graven is at this address?’

The lights I was heading for turned red. Fuck it - no one was about. I bombed them, swerving easy around the cyclist coming over the junction just then. I looked in the rear-view and watched him wave a fist at me. Such misplaced rage. I slipped my eyes sideways and checked Gnash on the back seat. Maybe he’d give me some aggro when I dumped his cohort on the tarmac. I worked out a follow-through move to tag on the end of that without even taking my right hand off the wheel. Should be easy.

And it looked like it was gonna happen. I said:

‘Five.’

‘What?’

‘Four.’

‘What? Four what?’

‘Tell him, Sid!’

‘Three.’

‘Get off me, Gnash! Tell him what?’

‘Tell him how you know Boo... erm, Graven is where he is!’

‘Two.’

‘Tell him!’

‘One.’

‘Alright! Alright, I’ll tell you, if it means so much.’

‘Tell him, Sid!’

‘Fuck off, Gnash! You touch the back of my head again and I’ll
stripe
you!’

‘Come on, just tell the bloke.’

‘Alright, well... What I did, see, is I thought about what you said. Chain of command, you said. In any kind of organisation, you’re only dealing with the one above you. And that’s Booker. You try to get past him to the one higher up, you’re making Booker sort of like unemployed, know what I mean?’

‘Redundant.’

‘Yeah, that. You’re making him redundant, like my dad is. So he’s gotta protect his ass. He’s gotta make the one above him
invisible
, so you don’t even try to get to him.’

‘That’s very clever,’ I said. ‘You got initiative, son. I can see you climbing a ladder one day. Cleaning windows, perhaps.’

‘You asked, I’m telling, right? I did some asking around, sticking my nose where it weren’t wanted, and I turfed up the name Graven. From there, it was a piece of piss. The higher ranks, they don’t move in the same circles like us ones. You gotta go to different places to find ’em, different pubs.’

‘Graven don’t drink in pubs.’

‘Course he don’t. But his boys do. And...’

‘And his boys won’t talk. He’s a secret, pal. To plebs like you he don’t exist.’

‘Ah, but... do you know what I’ve found, mate? There’s always a weak link. No matter how loyal you think your homies are, there’s always one who’ll let you down. There’s always one...
cunt
who—’

‘You don’t know that, Sid,’ the lad in the back said.

‘Fuck off, Gnash! Dux grassed me and you fuckin’
knows
it!’

‘But you don’t—’

‘Dux?’ I said, getting confused here. ‘Isn’t he your other mate, the skinny one?’

‘Forget Dux,’ said Sid, touching his stitches again. ‘Dux is just a cunt. He’s history now anyway, good as. I’m on about the one who betrayed Graven. Up in the Chequers. Big feller with a footy top on, tats all over on his—’

‘What team?’

‘Eh? Who cares what—?’

‘Come on, convince me. Spread some detail. Who’s name was on the back?’

‘Well, it was, erm... blue. Everton, I think. And it was that striker... what’s his name?’

‘Rooney?’ I said.

‘Rooney? Mate, you’re a bit out of date there. Rooney got sold to Man Utd years ago.’

‘What? Oh...’

‘You feelin’ alright?’

‘Shut up. Go on... what about this bloke in the Chequers?’

‘All I had to do was bung him some skunk. Got him talking and within ten minutes I got an address.’

‘So that’s all you got? An unconfirmed address?’

‘No, mate,’ he said, ‘it ain’t about the whether or not Graven’s there. It’s about what he showed me. It’s about what he offered me in exchange for a block of skunk.’

‘Sid.’

‘Shut up, Gnash, I know what I’m doing. I gotta tell him.’

‘Tell me what?’

Sid just looked at me, licking his lips. Looking for the words.

‘
What?
’

‘He... the bloke showed me pics on his phone. Of a bird. A young bird, too young.’

‘What? Who? What did she look like?’

‘Well, you couldn’t really see but, you know, she wasn’t white.’

‘You dunno for sure.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Gnash! I’m helpin’ the man. You think I’m enjoying this? The man needs to know!’

‘But...’ I didn’t know what to say, what to ask. My fingers kept squeezing the wheel and letting go. I gripped again, hard, not letting go. Deep breathing, firm chin. Common sense. Perspective. ‘You dunno it’s her,’ I said. ‘Could be any black girl.’

‘You’d best pull in a minute, mate.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘Just for a sec. Trust me.’

I didn’t even notice doing it. One minute I’m going sixty in a thirty zone. Next I’m tucked in between an Astra and a Mondeo.

‘I got this for you,’ said Sid, opening his jacket. Street light wasn’t coming in from this angle but no mistaking what he had in there. The dark metal found a bit of light from somewhere and made it shine a bit, like sweat oozing out of a sick person.

No way was this one a BB gun.

‘It’s heavy. You takin’ it or what?’

‘How much you want for it?’

‘It’s a gift.’

‘A gift? Fuck off.’

‘I swear. This is an offering, from brother to brother.’

I sighed. ‘That all you wanted me to pull in for?’

‘No, that’s cos of what I’m gonna tell you next. This feller in the, erm... Liverpool top, he said the girl’s name was Kelly.’

You bring them up with such hopes, dreams of what they’ll be when they grow up. Prime ministers, athletes, scientists... whatever. None of that matters, really. All you want is for them to grow up safe.

And for nothing bad to happen to them.

‘It’s just in this next road.’

I was following Gnash. Sid had stayed with the car because he didn’t want to bring it too close, he’d said. Gnash was showing me the way to Graven’s new place.

The new Destiny.

‘I been thinkin’,’ he said, spying round a corner before stepping out. ‘I remember where I seen a brothel bouncer recently. Remember I said I seen one? Yeah, it was a thing on telly.’

Destiny. After all your hopes and dreams and wishes, this is where they end up. Cross out scientist, put down prostitute. Slag. Whore.

‘Feller cuts up a hooker and the bouncer beats him up bad, then has to go on the run from the local crime boss.’

Only it wasn’t her, was it? She hadn’t
chosen
this path. She’d had it thrust on her.

‘I think it was Denzel Washington.’

I’d had it thrust on
me
.

‘Playing the bouncer, not the crime boss. The crime boss was Joe Pesci, I’m sure of it. You know him? He’s brilliant in
Goodfellas
. Hey, d’you like pizza?’

Kelly. Sapphires in the desert. Blue crystals, glinting in the sand. You’re paying for my sins.
You’re
paying because
I
fucked up. He’s making you pay.

Graven.

‘No? I could
murder
one meself. Anchovies, I likes. Hate pineapples on a pizza, though. What’s all that about?’

Graven.

‘Anyway, look, it’s in there. Number 33 - the blue door there. See it?’

I’m walking.

Lights on upstairs but none down. That’s because the windows are boarded up. Front door’s out of commission too - no way I’m getting in there. I slip round the side. Got to be an entry somewhere. How do the punters come and go? But there’s nothing in the back yard. Windows boarded up here too and the back door’s made of breezeblock.