The Front (18 page)

       
‘Straight up!’ Sam laughed, ducking quickly. ‘Ask Wendy!’

       
‘Oh, don’t mention her,’ Lee groaned. ‘I’m getting a hard-on!’

       
In the kitchen, Suzie laughed at their efforts to out-compliment each other. She’d never seen them on such a buzz. She only hoped it would last.

       
When she brought in the plate of fragrant bacon butties, they’d finished their lines of coke and had pushed the mirror over to the side to give them more room to play with their money. Remembering the lesson of the previous day, she waited until Mal cleared a space before putting the plate down. They immediately pounced on it, taking huge continuous bites out of the butties. She shook her head in amazement. They couldn’t even be tasting it, they were eating so fast.

       
Taking a cigarette from the open pack on the table, she went over to the couch for a lie-down. Turning the bloodied cushion over, she put her head down and sighed happily. The vibes in the flat were good this morning.

       
Then she remembered her news and pushed herself up onto her elbow to tell them. ‘Oh, by the way, guess what I heard when I was down the shops?’

       
‘What’s that, doll?’ Mal asked, tomato ketchup leaking down his chin.

       
‘Oh, it’s good, Mal,’ she smiled. ‘The police were there, loads of them. And guess what? The telly people were there, too!’

       
‘No way!’ Lee gasped. ‘Shit, man, we’re famous!’

       
‘Is that right?’ Sam asked, wide-eyed. ‘Who was doing it?’

       
‘That Liz Whatserface from the six o’clock news,’ Suzie told him. ‘She was right there in front of me, talking to a copper. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but there were loads of people there. Anyhow, that’s not the best bit,’ she said, bursting to tell them. ‘You’ll never guess what people are saying!’

       
‘What? What?’ the men chorused.

       
‘They’re only saying Pasha was battered to death by a load of guys with baseball bats!’ she told them, relishing her moment in the spotlight. ‘A woman in the shop told my mate Elaine – oh, she’ll be coming round sometime, by the way – anyhow, this woman said she’d seen them doing it! Can you believe it? Says she was in the phone box and watched the whole thing!’

       
‘Fuck me!’ Mal laughed, nudging Lee. ‘Couldn’t ask for better than that, could you, mate?’

       
‘What else?’ said Lee. ‘Did anyone mention me?’

       
‘No,’ Suzie smiled. ‘Not a single word. But they were saying plenty of stuff about Pasha that I thought might interest you.’

       
‘Like what?’ Sam asked.

       
‘Well . . . like he was dealing smack from under the counter, for a start. And that it was probably junkies who’d done him over, or his nephews.’

       
The men looked at each other and laughed.

       
‘What a beautiful world this is!’ Mal held his hand up for the others to slap palms.

       
‘Like a fucking rainbow,’ Lee said. ‘And we’ve got the pot of gold!’

       
Mal put an arm around Lee and Sam’s shoulders and smiled into their faces. ‘My brothers. I do believe we are home and dry. Let’s celebrate!’

       
Gathering the money together he put it to the side, then pulled the mirror back into the centre of the table and tipped another bag onto it.

       
Finishing her cigarette, Suzie settled back and closed her eyes. At last everything was going right – it must be if Sam was laughing. Always worrying about everything, he’d be the first to say if he had any doubts that they were in the clear.

       
Minutes later she was woken from her light doze by Lee tugging on her sleeve.

       
‘About this mate of yours who’s coming round. What’s she like, then?’

10

The Man had fallen asleep on the couch, and, rather than waking him when he got back, Jake had covered him with a quilt.

       
Waking up hot and sticky, The Man saw that it was light outside.

       
‘What time is it?’ he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

       
‘Going on nine,’ Jake said. ‘You feeling okay?’ he asked then, taking in the deep lines etched in The Man’s face.

       
‘Yeah, I’m cool,’ The Man said. Pushing the quilt aside, he sat up and stretched his legs out. His trousers were badly creased, and he could smell his own sweat from the restless few hours tossing and turning on the hot leather couch. ‘I need a shower!’ he muttered, wrinkling his nose.

       
Jake handed him a freshly made cup of coffee. ‘I’ll go get some eggs and stuff while you’re in there,’ he said. ‘I’m starving.’

       
The Man groaned. ‘That all you ever think about?’

       
Jake grinned. ‘Among other things!’

       
‘Oh, yeah . . .’ The Man stretched his arms, grimacing at the stench from his underarm. ‘Did you drop her all right?’ He peered at Jake from beneath his brows. ‘Didn’t get too heavy?’

       
‘Nah, man,’ Jake assured him. ‘We had a bit of fun, that’s all.’

       
The Man nodded. ‘So long as that was all. We can do without any more shit right now.’ Standing, he put his cup on the table and headed for the bathroom. ‘I’ll be ten minutes.’

       
Knowing full well it would be more like half an hour before The Man had scrubbed and scoured every inch of his body, Jake relaxed back onto his chair to finish his smoke. When the phone rang, he leaned across and pressed the hands-free button, growling, ‘Yeah?’

       
‘Yo,’ said Max. ‘Where’s The Man?’

       
Jake took a long drag before answering. ‘Tekkin’ a shower. ’S up?’

       
‘Got something I think he should know,’ said Max. ‘I’ll come round.’

       
‘Leave it half an hour,’ Jake told him. ‘I’ll be back then to let you in.’

       
‘Half an hour, then,’ Max said, then hung up.

       
Stubbing out the part-smoked spliff and leaving it in the ashtray for The Man, Jake grabbed his coat and the car keys and went out.

Max put the phone down and finished polishing the sleek matt barrel of his latest find. Folding the duster, he put it and the tube of polish back in the cupboard under the sink. Then, with a last loving stroke, he wrapped the gun in a square of black cloth and carried it down to the cellar to stash in the strongbox with the others.

       
Guns were his passion. Ever since he could remember he’d longed for one of his own. And now he had six. Six little beauties, picked up from various sources. The two he’d been lucky enough to find last night were very nice. Both were special, but the matt black .35 Magnum Colt was a real beauty. And very unusual. There weren’t many like that knocking about.

       
All in all, it had been a profitable night. Now all he had to do was give The Man the information he had, and – with luck – get paid for it, which would cap it off nicely.

       
Half an hour, Jake had said. He’d better get a move on. Pushing the steel bar firmly across the cellar door into its reinforced socket, he clicked the heavy-duty padlock into place and gave the door’s handle a couple of good hard testing pulls. He couldn’t take any chances with security, not with the little arsenal he had down there. Satisfied that it was secure, he dusted his hands down and headed out.

       
The sunlight hit him straight between the eyes, but it didn’t bother him. Despite just a couple of hours’ sleep, and the early-morning debt-collecting run, he wasn’t tired. Forty minutes snatched here and there was enough to reinvigorate Max. He was lucky like that. Always active, always alert – and always out for what he could get.

       
He took great pride in being clear-headed, never touching anything stronger than weed drugs-wise and just the occasional bottle of Budweiser. There were too many gouchers out there already. Too many druggies who thought they had it taped but couldn’t see what was staring them in the face. People like that always ended up losing everything they had. Junkies were the worst. They were stupid. Ignorant, blind scum. Stupefied by the drug they held so dear. Max would never be that dumb.

       
Closing his front door with a heavy slam, he locked it with the mortise, then bounced the hundred yards to the single row of garages. His was on the end, fortified with huge steel bars and padlocks. No thief was ever gonna get their filthy hands on his things – least of all his gorgeous silver BMW 325i. His pride and joy. His face lit up when he saw her. Nestling snugly inside the confined space, she looked to Max like an untamed silver panther, waiting for the love of her life to arrive.

       
‘Here I am, darlin’,’ he crooned, stroking her smooth, still-warm body.

       
Sliding onto his seat, he felt the heat spread through his loins as it always did when he entered her. Better than any woman! Firing up the engine, he flicked the concealed cassette player on, then backed her carefully out. Pausing only to jump out and relock the garage, he headed for The Man’s flat, singing along soulfully to Sade.

‘Mummy . . . mummy?’ The voice was insistent, creeping into Wendy’s brain like an invisible plague. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

       
‘All right, all right – I heard you!’ she snapped, shrugging off the nurse’s hand.

       
‘Baby’s awake and looking for food.’ The nurse – a simpering idiot, in Wendy’s immediate opinion – smiled down into her face.

       
‘Well, give it a bottle then!’ Wendy snarled. She winced as a stitch snagged on the sanitary towel. ‘Jeezus!’ she howled, turning her back on the nurse. ‘Have I died and gone to Hell, or what?’

       
The ever-helpful nurse, fresh from lessons about coping with post-natal mothers, wheeled the baby around to the other side of the bed. ‘Look. That’s your mummy.’ She simpered into the perspex cot. ‘If you’re a good girl, she might pick you up and give you breakfast and a lovely little cuddle. Mmmm?’ She looked at Wendy for confirmation.

       
Wendy gave her a filthy look and rolled onto her other side. ‘Look, Little Miss Muppet,’ she spat. ‘Take
baby
away and give me a break, will you? I’m knackered.’

       
‘Oh dear, Mummy seems a bit upset,’ the nurse cooed at the squalling baby. ‘Never mind. We’ll go and have some breakfast, and when we come back, Mummy will be in a much better mood, won’t she?’

       
‘Oh, will you piss off!’ Wendy moaned, pulling the pillow up around her ears.

       
The nurse wheeled the baby away down the ward. Wendy waited until the awful din had faded before rolling onto her back. God! What had she done? She didn’t want the child anywhere near her. Maybe it was something to do with the way it had been forced upon her last night. There had been none of the joy she’d felt with the others – just pain and anger. Anger at shit-head Lee for bringing it on. And anger at her wimp of a husband for— For what?

       
For just being!

       
Grabbing at the bedside cabinet, Wendy hauled it around and threw the little top door open. Fuming silently, she pushed roughly through her neatly folded clothes for her cigarettes. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep and forget she was alive – forget the baby. But that was impossible now.

       
She decided to call Louise while she was having a smoke – make sure she was coping okay on her own, because no doubt Sam would have gone straight back to Mal’s. Pulling her purse out, she pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed, grimacing as the stitches stretched tight. It hurt like hell. She hoped they’d done it properly, not left her scarred for life. She’d sue the bloody arse off the hospital if they had.

       
Stepping down gingerly, she hobbled slowly to the plug-in pay phone and dragged it into the day room. Making for the chair with the most padding, she dialled her home number and lit herself a much-needed cigarette.

       
Louise answered quickly, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears. Josh and Annette were fighting in the background.

       
‘Is Sam there?’ Wendy asked the distressed girl. ‘Huh! No, I didn’t think so. Well, has he rung you? Okay, that’s something, I suppose. Yes, I did. A girl. No, I’ve no idea. I was kind of banking on a boy, so I hadn’t thought of any girls’ ones. Still, plenty of time, eh? Right, love, I’m off. Can you cope for a while on your own? Oh, good. Well, I’ll make it up to you when I see you. Now, just make sure those little buggers don’t walk all over you. Tell them I said I’ll see to the pair of them when I get home if they don’t behave, all right? Yeah. Okay. Speak to you later, love. Bye.’

       
Pulling another couple of twenty-pence pieces out of her purse, she lit another cigarette from the butt of her last and dialled Mal’s number. Suzie answered.

       
‘Hello, Suzie,’ Wendy said. ‘Yeah, yeah . . . I’m fine, thanks. Yes. She’s fine too. Is Sam there, love?’

       
She pulled deeply on the cigarette as she waited for Sam to come on. When he finally did, she blasted him.

       
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Why is Louise still looking after your kids? Get your arse back home and let the poor girl go home. Never mind me! What do I want to see you for? It’s the kids that need to see your stupid face, not me! Yeah? Well, make sure you do as well, ’cos if I’m the only one in this ward tonight without flowers I’ll bloody kill you when I get my hands on you. And bring me some more cigs. Right, yeah . . . Well, I’m going. Yes. She’s fine – as far as I know. What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean as far as I know! No, I haven’t. A nurse is feeding her. I’m going. See you later.’