The Damage (David Blake 2) (35 page)

‘I’ve got to get back. Stuff to attend to.’

‘You’ll need to see the Gladwell brothers.’

‘I’ll have a word,’ he assured me.

I knew then that the Gladwells were finished.

‘That was some deal you got us there,’ said Kinane when Fallon had gone, ‘when this goes through we’ll be untouchable.’ From the look on his face, I could see he couldn’t believe that our problems had instantly come to an end, all because of a quick chat in a hotel bar on the Quayside. I was happy about that. I knew there had been times lately when Kinane had privately and publicly questioned my judgement. I needed a coup like this to get Palmer, Kinane and everyone else I employed remembering I could do deals none of them were capable of. They were all as hard as nails, but not one of them could handle Amrein or negotiate an agreement like this one with a Glasgow firm.

Palmer drove me back to my apartment. ‘I’ll have a word,’ he said, when we were in the car.

‘What?’

‘That’s what Fallon said when you told him he’d need to see the Gladwell brothers.’

‘So?’

‘It’s what you say,’ he reminded me, ‘just before something bad happens to someone. I’ll have a word,’ he repeated.

‘Coincidence,’ I said.

‘And it was all tied up real quick, wasn’t it – your deal with Fallon? Smooth as you like.’

‘Meaning what?’

‘You knew he was coming down tonight, didn’t you?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘That’s why we got such a good deal. You’d worked it all out beforehand?’

‘Most of it,’ I admitted, ‘but I needed him to come here, to make sure he was serious about it. What else is a man like Ray Fallon going to do with himself? With a whole city of enemies just waiting for retribution, he won’t last long if he’s not protected by a large firm.’

‘Is that why you invited him down here?’

‘What makes you think I instigated it?’

‘He wouldn’t have the nerve to chance his arm like that, not after all the things he has said,’ Palmer told me, ‘not without clearing it with you first.’

‘Let’s just say I sent up a flare so he could see it. I put myself in his shoes and I didn’t think he had many options. The Gladwells are history, with or without our intervention, but with them gone we’d have the same old problem. Someone new running Glasgow and Edinburgh, right on our doorstep.’

‘Better the devil you know,’ he said, ‘but can you trust Fallon?’

‘No,’ I admitted, ‘we can’t trust anyone, ever, which is why I employ you.’

‘So why the cloak and dagger?’ he asked me, ‘why not just tell us he was coming?’

‘Kinane.’

‘You think he would have blocked it?’

‘Blocked it?’ I asked him, ‘since when does he get to block a decision I make? No, I just didn’t want to listen to him moaning about it all year.’

Three days later, Ray Fallon drove his car into the underground car park of the same hotel and left it there. He made sure the boot was unlocked. He knew that when he returned later there would be two large holdalls in there containing his start-up cash. All he had to do was assure me the situation in Glasgow was back under control. It didn’t take long.

‘The brothers are gone,’ he explained simply. He didn’t need to elaborate further. I wondered if the Gladwell brothers had retained the sense to tell him what he needed to know about the money they’d spirited away. I doubted it though. They wouldn’t have believed their eyes when their father’s old crew turned against them. Whatever their answer, it would take him months to free up all the cash. Much of it would have been lost to him forever without the relevant passwords, documents, signatures and passports needed to drain the accounts. That suited me fine. It meant he needed me.

‘Good,’ I told him, ‘then we can make a new start. Glasgow is well rid of the Gladwell boys. Here’s to a new era.’ We clinked our glasses together and sipped our whisky. We were drinking in the cocktail bar again but this time the place was half full. We had to be discreet so we spoke softly. I had not bothered to bring Kinane with me this time but I did have Palmer at my side. I wasn’t going to sit down with a man like Ray Fallon on my own.

‘Cheers,’ he told me and he looked relaxed.

‘The money will be in your car by the time you’ve finished your drink. There’ll be more when you need it. I’ll take care of your first three payments to Amrein so you’ll have enough working capital to get by,’ I meant he could pay his suppliers, dealers and muscle without any of them kicking up a fuss.

‘Thanks,’ he said simply.

‘There is one last thing, before you go.’

‘Aye, I thought as much.’

‘I want his name,’ I told Fallon.

Fallon was obviously expecting this and he came right out with it. Palmer and I heard the name of the man who had been betraying us to Alan Gladwell in silence.

Fallon drained his drink and said, ‘I’ll be away then,’ leaving us to digest the information he had given us. We looked at each other but didn’t bother to say anything. I knew Palmer would be feeling as sick as I was. Even after everything we had been through, I was still shocked rigid by it; of all the people.

Eventually a waiter walked by and Palmer nodded at him to gain his attention and summon the bill. ‘What’s the damage?’ he asked.

I’ve read a lot about the Cold War over the years. Spies and traitors always fascinated me. When I was young I thought agents were like James Bond, tough guys who could always beat the villains. Then, when I got older, I realised they were usually squalid little men who took big risks to give secrets away to the other side, sometimes for money, sometimes for women and sometimes for the so-called glory of their cause. Often these guys would end up dead or serving long prison sentences, but sometimes they would get away with it and live to a ripe old age. It seemed to be almost entirely down to luck. Often they only got caught because a defector came over from the other side and brought their names with them. It wouldn’t matter how clever or resourceful you thought you were, if the man who was handling you defected to the other side you were finished.

Ray Fallon had done just that. He was with us now and the price of our friendship was the name of the man who had been handing the Gladwells all their information on us, including Hunter’s address, the location of my town house and the bar where Danny did his regular pick-up the night he was shot. I couldn’t allow that to go unpunished. He’d have to be dealt with and people would have to know why. We couldn’t let this happen again. I gave the order that night.

.......................

T
oddy could at least be philosophical about one thing. There were some perks that came from being a member of Bobby Mahoney’s firm. No one messed with you for starters. The freaks, the queens and the nut jobs all left you alone. Men who would normally have been keen to extort money or cigarettes, to bully and assault you, steered clear of you and picked on other, weaker men.

There were also small privileges that Toddy enjoyed. They might be scant consolation right now but, as the memory of his freedom began to recede over time, he knew they would take on an increased significance. Perhaps the best perk was some time alone in the shower. Everyone else had to queue up in line to use it. Then they shuffled forwards in groups, were given a few minutes to wash themselves, which was a nervous time for all concerned; the last thing you wanted to be in a prison was naked. Then they shuffled out and had to wait days to use the facilities again. But it had been fixed for Toddy to go in before all of the other men. The prison guard, Hinds, had been paid to fetch him from the recreation area early, then escort him to the shower and leave him there while he took his time. Toddy would often stay under the water for twenty minutes or more, until Hinds got nervy, and told him he had to come out because the others were on their way.

Toddy took full advantage of his perks. He was serving a long stretch because he had kept his mouth shut. The least David Blake could do was provide the basics; money to his girlfriend, groceries to his mum and her bills paid, some money for Toddy to get the stuff you needed when you were on the inside; books, cigarettes and of course the drugs, which were necessary to numb the boredom. It wasn’t much though, not compared to everything Toddy had lost and the resentment burned in him. He tried not to think of the life he should be leading on the outside. He especially tried not to worry about Kathy and who she was with right now. How long would it take her to give him up as a bad lot?

This was all David Blake’s fault. Toddy blamed the man for all of the time he had spent on remand and every day he would have to do between now and the completion of his sentence. Toddy was just a foot soldier and the time he was doing should have been Blake’s, which is why Toddy felt no guilt over what he had done. One day he would finally be free of this place and, if he was ever going to be able to pick up his life again, which included persuading Kathy to take up with him once more, he was going to need money; a lot of money. Of course the deal he had struck with Alan Gladwell had not been without risk, but he didn’t think Blake would ever suspect. He had played fair right through the court case, not that he had any choice but to keep schtum and take the full rap. Blake would have given him a lot of credit for that but, once Toddy was tucked away inside Durham jail, he would be out of sight, out of mind.

One of Gladwell’s guys had approached him while he was on remand and done the deal right there and then. Toddy wasn’t an idiot. He had been caught with kilos of H and knew he would be made an example of. The money the Gladwells offered him would be the right level of compensation for losing so many years of his life. They promised him protection too, and a bonus once they effectively seized control of Newcastle. All he had to do was talk to them about Blake’s business; his safe houses, routines and the main men in his organisation, guys like Palmer, Kinane, Hunter and Danny and what they did for Blake. If any of this led to the death of David Blake, well that was the price that would just have to be paid if Toddy was going to win back his life. He no longer cared what happened to his former associates, or the city he’d lived in. Toddy was pretty sure they had all forgotten him by now and Blake was probably already trying to get Kathy into his bed.

So Toddy spilled it all. He laid out everything on Blake’s organisation, up to, and including, minor players who held grudges against the Top Boy, like Billy Warren and Peter Dean. He told Gladwell’s firm what they wanted to hear, which was everything.

Toddy heard a noise behind him but it was nothing to be alarmed about. It was just the sound of the gate swinging shut at the other end of the corridor. The rest of the guys must have been on their way to the showers already. Toddy reasoned he’d better finish off and dry himself. Everyone knew he got special privileges because he was one of Blake’s men but he didn’t want to rub their noses in it. Better to be out of the shower by the time they were lining up.

Toddy grabbed the rough towel and gave himself a quick dry then hastily wrapped it round his waist and left the shower. He had been right, the guys were lining up. There were a couple of familiar faces; Don Watts, who was doing a life stretch for accidentally killing someone he beat up during an armed robbery, Harry Harris who was employed as muscle by a London-based firm, with a side line in torturing people, and finally, Henderson, a complete headcase, doing life with little prospect of parole, for a series of gangland killings all over the north of England. These guys would have intimidated most men, but Toddy always held his head up high when he walked by them because he was protected.

Strange that there were only three of them though? Come to think of it, where was Hinds? He was usually at the rear of the queue, ensuring the blokes kept moving, but today he was nowhere to be seen. Seeing him, Watts turned and walked back the way he had come. At the exact moment that Toddy started to realise something was wrong, Harris stepped out in front of him, blocking his path with his huge presence. Toddy opened his mouth to say something and that was when Henderson stepped out and grabbed him from behind, slamming both of Toddy’s arms together and pinning them behind his back. Toddy tried to struggle free, but he couldn’t budge. He was terrified, his first thought that they were trying to rape him. Had they forgotten he was a protected guy? The fact that vicious retribution would fall on them all afterwards would be little consolation to Toddy if he ended up gang-raped by them. He struggled to break free again but Henderson merely tightened his grip.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he demanded.

It was then that Harris looked him calmly in the eye. ‘He knows you betrayed him,’ he said simply. Harris was careful not to mention Blake’s name but Toddy didn’t need to hear it to understand. Before Toddy could utter a word in his defence, Harris brought his hand out from behind his back. In it was a shank, a toothbrush sharpened into a vicious point until it could cut through flesh easily. Toddy pushed back with all of his might, fighting against Henderson’s grip. It worked, and Henderson was propelled back a few feet, but he grunted and pushed hard against Toddy, holding him now in a grip he couldn’t escape from, no matter how he struggled. Harris advanced towards him, the sharpened shank at his side.

Toddy struggled desperately but the more he fought, the tighter Henderson’s grip became.