Assassin (32 page)

Mitchell was hit four times in the chest, flesh and shattered bone propelled from the wounds by the impact. He was catapulted back over the desk, crashing against a wall, his blood spurting from the holes.

Drake shouted in pain as the first of the bullets hit him in the left shoulder, powering through the scapula as it exited. The next caught him on the point of the chin, shattering his jaw and causing splintered teeth to fly into the air. Another shot took off most of the right side of his head and he was thrown backwards, slamming into the wall where he remained upright for several seconds as Ross pumped more shots into him. Then Drake slid down to the floor leaving several thick crimson trails on the paintwork behind him.

The smell of cordite filled the room and Ross stood motionless for a second, glancing at the two dead men. Then he jammed the Ingram into his belt and walked across to the twisted body of Drake, kneeling beside it.

Ross grabbed a handful of hair and lifted the man's head so that he was gazing into the blank eyes, tilting his pulverized skull backwards to expose the throat.

Then he slid the knife from his pocket.

As Carter brought the Daimler to a halt across the street from the casino he saw Billy Stripes come scuttling towards the vehicle.

`What the hell is going on?' asked Harrison, flinging open the door and clambering out. Tina followed him.

Carter walked behind, puzzled by the look on Billy's face, the concern in his voice.

'We don't know how it happened? Or who it was,' he blurted as Harrison strode towards the main entrance of the club. 'They'd been dead about half an hour when me and Joe found them ...'

'Who's dead?' snarled Harrison, grasping Billy by the lapels.

'Someone hit Drake and Mitchell. In your office,' Billy said, shaking loose of his boss's grip.

Harrison pushed past the younger man and ran into the club, past Joe Duggan and Martin McAuslan who were standing in the main games room of the club.

Carter pushed Tina back and sprinted after Harrison. She hesitated a second before following. Billy also tried to restrain her but she continued up the stairs.

Harrison reached his office and paused on the threshold. Even from there he could smell the stench of death, see the blood spattered on the carpet and walls. There were bullet holes in the far wall, the desk had been drilled full of the lethal projectiles. Carter and Tina caught up with him as he paused in the doorway, his face drained of colour. Then, slowly, he stepped inside.

'Who knows about this?' Harrison wanted to know.

'No one,' Billy told him. 'We haven't even called the law.'

'Well don't. Get rid of the bodies yourself.'

'Who could it have been?' Tina wanted to know, looking away after glancing at the bullet-torn corpse of Mitchell.

'Mitchell was supposed to have killed them all,' Carter added. 'There aren't any gangs left.'

'Then who the fuck did this?' snarled Harrison, his voice cracking. He looked down at Drake's body, at the bullet holes. At the savage gash which ran from ear to ear.

Blood had spread out in a thick dark pool around the dead man.

'We found this,' Billy said softly, reaching for the door. It had been pushed back on its hinges, hiding part of the wall but now, as he pushed it forward Harrison swallowed hard, felt his bowels loosen as he read the words, written in Drake's blood, which covered the wall:

SEPTEMBER 3
RD

IN MEMORIUM

CHARLES ROSS

The gang boss opened his mouth to speak but no words would come. He merely stepped back, eyes still fixed on the words, and perched on the edge of his desk, ignoring the spots of blood which spattered it.

Tina read the scrawl and glanced fast at Harrison then at Carter.

`Who's Charles Ross?' she wanted to know.

`You mean who
was
he?' Carter said softly, his own eyes also riveted to the wall. `He's dead. Him and his men. Dead for two years now. Two years to the day.' He nodded at the date scrawled in blood on the wall. `Ross and four of his boys were taken out on September 3rd two years ago.'

`The bastard was dangerous,' said Harrison quietly, as if he had difficulty speaking. 'He was always a mad fucker. Ran wild after I ordered a hit on his brother. He swore he'd kill me.' The gang boss's voice had mellowed and become almost reflective. 'There was a building development being stated in the East End, I forget the name of it now, something Towers I think.' His face was very pale as he spoke, his eyes never leaving the bloody letters. 'I called Ross, told him and his blokes to meet me at the building site, told him I wanted to make peace. The gang war was fucking up business for everyone, the law were down on us all. He turned up with four men. We were waiting for him. Me, Drake, Joule

and Pat Mendham. We took them all. Waited until they were lined up and then shot the fucking lot. We put the bodies in the foundations of one of the tower blocks, they were due to be filled in the next day. We figured no one would ever find them inside thousands of tons of concrete.' He smiled humourlessly. 'They disappeared. Like they'd never existed. The other gangs knew what had happened, and none of them bothered me after that. London was mine.'

'So who's done this?' Carter demanded. 'Barbieri's dead, so are Cleary, Sullivan and Hayes.'

'Someone trying to put the frighteners on you, Frank?' Billy offered.

'Like who?' Tina asked, but her question went unanswered.

'There's something else, Frank,' Carter observed. 'You said that you, Drake, Joule and Mendham did the killing that day, right? Well, the other three have already been murdered.'

'One of Ross's gang?' Billy offered.

Harrison shook his head.

'After he was killed the others left London. Besides, why wait two years? If any of them had been left, they'd have come after us sooner.'

'I know that place you're on about, there was something about it in the paper,' said Carter. 'Langley Towers it was called. It's being demolished.'

'So?' Harrison said.

'Maybe they found the bodies,' Billy suggested.

'I told you, no one would know who they were, there's no way of linking the deaths of Ross and his men with me,' Harrison muttered.

'Well somebody knew Charlie Ross,' Carter added. 'Someone with a grudge against you, Frank. My bet is you're next on the list.'

The gang boss glared at Carter.

He was about to say something when the phone rang.

Harrison hesitated before picking it up.

'Yeah,' he barked.

Silence.

'Hello, who is this?'

There was a soft, gurgling sound at the other end and then a liquid rattle.

'Harrison,' the voice said and the gang boss almost dropped the phone. 'Did you see my message? Did you see it; you fucker?'

'I saw it,' he replied. 'Who is this?'

'Who do you think?' There was anger in the words but something more. Triumph? 'You're going to die, Harrison. Soon. You won't know when but I want you to look into my face before I kill you, something you never had the guts to do before. Do you hear me?'

The gang boss gripped the receiver hard, his knuckles turning white.

'Now listen to me, you cunt, if you think you can scare me...'

He was cut short.

'I'm not trying to scare you,' the voice rasped. 'I just want to kill you. I've waited long enough.'

The line went dead.

Harrison slammed the receiver down, his hand shaking.

His face was deathly white and he was forced to lean against the desk for support. Tina stood watching as he spun round to face Carter and Billy.

'Carter, you and Billy, you go to Langley Towers, under- stand?' he hissed. 'You search it. Search every fucking inch of it. Take Duggan with you.' His breath was coming in low, quick gasps. 'Find those bodies.'

Carter frowned.

'Frank, what the hell are you talking about?' he asked, irritably. 'Ross is dead. That message is from someone trying to wind you up.' He pointed at the blood-drawn words on the wall.

'Find the bodies,' Harrison bellowed. 'I have to see them. I have to know he's dead.'

'You killed him yourself,' Carter roared back. 'Charlie Ross is dead and buried.'

'Check that site, got it?' Harrison snarled. 'I'll be at my flat with Tina. You report back there.'

'This is fucking crazy,' snapped Carter.

Harrison lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar, but Carter gripped his boss's wrists and threw him backwards.

Even as he staggered two or three paces, Harrison slid his right hand inside his jacket and pulled out the.357. He aimed it at Carter's head and thumbed back the hammer.

'You check that fucking site or so help me I'll kill you,' the gang boss said.

Tina looked anxiously at Carter and at the gaping barrel of the revolver.

'So, we go looking for dead men?' Carter mused.

Harrison didn't speak, he merely lowered the gun slowly and then carefully released the hammer, disarming the.357.

He slid it back into its holster. The gang boss grabbed Tina by the arm and pulled her towards the door.

'Clean this fucking place up. Then do what I told you,' Harrison snapped. Then he was gone.

Carter looked at Billy Stripes and shrugged.

'He's fucking mad,' said Carter, shaking his head.

'So, who do you think it is, Ray?' Billy wanted to know.

Carter crossed to the body of Drake and looked down at it.

'I'm not paid to think, Billy,' he said quietly.

Drake's eyes gazed at him blindly.

They called McAuslan and began their task.

The words of blood on the wall remained in plain view.

An accusation.

A challenge.

2.49 p.m.

Harrison looked across at the wall clock and muttered under his breath. He downed what was left in the glass, crossed to the cabinet and poured himself another large measure of Haig.

Tina sat on the sofa, one leg drawn up beneath her, watching as the gang boss paced agitatedly back and forth pausing occasionally to glance at the phone.

'What the hell's taking them so long?' he hissed. 'They should have been there by now.'

'Give them time, Frank,' Tina said, her own nerves frayed after the events of the past few days. 'Why don't you just sit down and...’

'Sit down,' he snarled, turning on her. 'Sit down and what? Relax?' He took another large gulp of whisky. He'd already got through half a bottle since they'd arrived at the fiat two hours earlier and now, as he paced up and down, his steps weren't so assured. Once or twice he almost stumbled, cursing when he spilled the whisky.

'You're getting yourself worked up,' she told him.

'Somebody's trying to kill me,' he said. 'What the fuck do you expect me to do, have a sing-song?' He finished what was left in the glass and hurriedly poured himself some more.

'Drinking isn't going to help,' Tina protested.

'Button it,' Harrison growled. 'Just shut up.' The bottle cracked hard against the glass, almost chipping the delicate crystal. He could smell the drink on his own breath.

Tina got to her feet, tired of Harrison's abuse.

'Where are you going?' he demanded.

'Into the kitchen,' she told him.

He snaked out a hand and gripped her arm, squeezing hard. Tina tried to shake free but Harrison held on, finally pushing her back on to the sofa.

'You stay with me,' he said, lurching over to the sofa and slumping down beside her.

She slid to one end, anxious to get away from his whisky smelling breath.

'What's wrong with you, Frank?' she wanted to know.

'Somebody's trying to kill me, have you forgotten that? If I'd been in the casino this morning the bastards would have had me then.' He rubbed his forehead with a thumbnail.

'That fucking Charlie Ross, he always was a devious sod.'

'Ross is dead. Ray said that the message was from someone trying to scare you ...'

'Ray. Ray. Ray said. I don't give a fuck what Carter said,' Harrison growled. 'So, you believe
him
and not
me
do you? Why? What makes him so fucking special?' He gripped a handful of her hair in his fist and pulled her towards him.

Tina recoiled both from the pain and also from the stink of liquor on Harrison's breath. He finally pushed her aside.

'Why should Carter be right?' the gang boss wanted to know.

'Frank, be sensible about it,' she said, irritably. 'If Ross is dead ...'

'Yeah,
if
he's dead,' Harrison interrupted.

'But you said you killed him yourself, and buried his body. How could it be Ross who's after you now? Be logical for Christ's sake.'

He glared at her.

'You weren't like this after the restaurant attack,' she told him. 'You were angry not scared.'

Harrison chuckled humourlessly.

'And you think that when they come for me they're going to leave you alone, is that it?' he asked. 'Is it?'

'When who comes for you?'

'Ross,' he bellowed, jumping to his feet.

'Ross is dead. For the last time, he's dead.'

'I won't believe that until I see his fucking body.'

Ray Carter took a long draw on the cigarette and held the smoke in his mouth for a moment before blowing it out in a long bluish stream.

He watched as the JCB's and the bulldozers rumbled over the piles of rubble which had once been Langley Towers, crushing stone beneath their huge caterpillar tracks, scooping debris up in their buckets, dumping it into the huge Scania lorries which waited obediently on the site.

Beside him Billy Stripes looked at his watch and sighed.

'How much longer do you think they're going to work?' he mused.

'A couple of hours,' Carter said, scanning the ruins.

Most of the first block and at least half of the second had been demolished. The third stood as a last defiant monument to the idiocy of modem planning, the late afternoon sunshine reflecting off its windows as if it were bouncing off so many blind eyes. The buildings which surrounded the three blocks were also still intact. Carter glanced at the supermarket, watching it for a moment before taking a last drag on his cigarette and tossing the butt out of the window.