Serious People (31 page)

“I’ve already got support. I got the brains already plugged in,” Billy replied.

Billy pointed the gun towards Leroy. Leroy could feel beads of sweat building on his forehead.

“Yeah, you might have the brains. But how you gonna stop Mickey. You’ll need a fucking army to stop him alone!” Leroy said, knowing this was his last chance.

“What about Mickey Dunne?” Billy asked.

Leroy could suddenly sense some interest from Billy Blake; he must have already had some contact with Mickey the Bag. Then he understood; he saw the battered and bruised faces that all three brothers wore.

Leroy laughed.

“You bwoys have already come across my bwoy Mickey!” Leroy laughed. And he felt some relief for the first time. “Yeah, so you bwoys got backing, you got some brains on how O’Neil’s runs stuff. But none of that counts for shit if Mickey the Bag comes and slits your throat! Yeah you little fuckers need me.”

For the first time Billy Blake looked uneasy. Leroy had something that he could bargain with. And Leroy started to recognise an opportunity. He might be able to get more from a deal with the Blakes than simply his life; he might be able to get a slice of the pie.

“I could deliver you Mickey, easy,” Leroy shrugged

“How?” Billy said, with a distrustful look.

“He trusts me, we’re mates.”

“You’d just kill your mate?” Billy asked.

“Ain’t no mates in business,” Leroy replied.

Billy nodded and looked across at Nick, who smiled in an agreement.

“Yeah, you know it makes sense,” Leroy smiled, seeing a deal become possible. “Mickey’s the baddest muther in O’Neil’s crew. I could just give him a call, and he’d be wherever I wanted.”

“What if you told him to come to our bar?” Billy asked, a grin growing on his face.

“That bitch be wherever I said—and on his own if you wanted,” Leroy replied. “You boys could jump him as soon as he walks in to the place.”

Billy smiled. “No. I want
you
to do him.”

Leroy’s stomach turned at this thought—Mickey the Bag was not someone you fuck with. He could get him to the Blake bar, for sure. But he’d certainly want a crew to take him down; he had no appetite for a one on one.

“OK. I’d need to make some calls, get some peeps here.”

“Billy…” John started.

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” Billy screamed back at John.

It was more than clear to Leroy that this other brother, John, wasn’t bought into this whole takeover of London thing. This was something to remember, maybe at some later point if he wanted to level the playing field with the Blakes. John would be easy to take down.

“This is what I want you to do,” Billy said, looking back at Leroy. “You tell Mickey to come here, and you get loads of your own boys down here at the same time. When he walks in, you will lock the door and tear Mickey apart.”

Leroy thought again about his options. Payne was dead and, without Mickey, what did O’Neil really have left to hold his empire together? It would just be his reputation alone holding all the crews underneath him together, and even the power of his rep wouldn’t be enough to keep control of the London streets.

“So what’s in it for me?” Leroy asked.

“You keep breathing?” Billy replied.

“Nah, nah, nah. You need me. I want to be part of this new company of yours. Get in at the ground floor, as they say,”

“I think my backers would understand that,” Billy said offering his hand.

Leroy grabbed the hand and shook it; he’d gone into business with worse people. True the Blakes were psychopathic, but that was all good. If he could get a taste of that Mexican dollar he could live with that. Money made the world go around.

“So what you be doing, while I’d be getting my hands dirty?” Leroy asked.

“We’ll be shooting dead Charlie O’Neil,” Billy replied calmly.

Leroy looked at Billy Blake and could not doubt his words. Charlie O’Neil was going down; he’d had his time. More importantly, Leroy could see an opportunity. The Blakes might be psycho enough to pull off the O’Neil hit, but they didn’t have what it took to take over the city, even with the Mexicans’ backing. They didn’t have the intellect—Leroy could see this.

But he did.

“Shit Nick,” Billy said with a smile. “Unlock the man; he’s our new associate now.”

Leroy began to relax as his restraints were released; he had almost forgotten he was just a few feet away from a dead copper. He spent the next hour having a drink with the three brothers, hearing Billy describe all of his plans.

Leroy just smiled and listened, only adding replies where he had to. He was now too busy, thinking about how the world had thrown him a new opportunity, and how he was going to take over London.

Hawkins hated this part of his job but he never shirked it. The dirty stuff came with the pay grade. The nature of what his team did would always put them at far greater danger than the average copper; when you go after the proper bad guys things can happen.

None of this made a difference though when going around to see the family who had been left behind. And It wasn’t helped when he—rarely—knew the officers on a personal basis, which left him little to say beyond the usual. They were a top officer, a credit to the force, and you should be very proud. At least in his time in the role, he’d only had to do this three times; but it was three times too many.

He had been called to the a quiet part of South London’s riverbank, where he now stood, less than an hour before, purely on a shout from the plods who had first responded at the site. They’d raised the alarm after finding a half submerged car. It must have had a real shoddy attempt by some amateurs to conceal the body; it would have been easier to sink it entirely at some different part of the river.

Apparently the PC’s had run a quick PNC check on the car and it had turned out to have SOCA plates; his mobile had started ringing within ten minutes of the results. Hawkins had one last hope. Perhaps some other unit had borrowed one of his team’s vehicles—that sort of thing happened all the time. It was barely six am and far too early for him to conduct any kind of roll call to make sure all his guys were accounted for.

A young uniformed officer approached him; Hawkins could tell at once by the man’s face that he was the one who had been first on the scene, and that this was his first DOA.

Hawkins nodded, “Constable.”

“Sir,” the young constable replied. “I was first on-site; I thought I should be the one who spoke to you.”

“Son, you should get yourself off home,” Hawkins said, seeing the young man was looking broken.

“She was just floating there when I pulled up,” the constable continued. “I thought I could save her…”

Hawkins put his hand on the man’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion. He had been hoping it wouldn’t be a female officer. It was always worse when it was a woman.

“I got her out the water sir,” the man said, his eyes starting to well. “I had been doing mouth to mouth for five minutes before I saw the hole in her forehead…”

Hawkins shook his head. Please God don’t be one of mine.

“The water you see,” the man now had tears running down his cheeks. “It washed off all the blood; I didn’t even notice the back of her head was missing.”

Hawkins gripped the young man’s shoulder. If you serve in the Police Force it’s just a matter of time before you come across death; but you’re never the same person after it.

“You’ve done well, Constable; there was nothing more you could do,” he replied, no sign of emotion in his voice.

If there was something years of service had given him, it was a familiarity with death. He had seen it all, from young to old; those who had got what they deserved to the tragic ones, who merited something better. For the first couple, he had been just as affected as the young PC, stood in front of him. But after a few, it became routine—just death.

A man in medical overalls approached Hawkins and the young PC. He stopped short of them, when he saw the constable in tears and gave Hawkins a nod to indicate he was ready.

The man was Dr. Valance, a police coroner. Hawkins had encountered him more than a few times over the years, but they still remained barely acquaintances. Hawkins put this down to the circumstances they always met in. In his own way, Hawkins liked the man; Valance was good at his job and he rated him. Valance knew how to achieve the balance between ascertaining the facts police detectives needed to know about the case, whilst still showing the departed some respect.

“Dr. Valance,” Hawkins nodded.

“DCI Hawkins, thank you for coming down,” Valance replied.

Hawkins looked back at the young police office and patted his shoulder. “Get yourself off son.”

The constable dried his face and nodded to Hawkins before hurrying away. Hawkins watched him get back into his car before turning back to the coroner.

“She’s not one of mine is she?” Hawkins said, still hopeful.

“She's one of yours,” the doctor confirmed grimly.

Hawkins’ heart sunk as he let the doctor lead him into the back of the ambulance; Valance unzipped the top of a body bag and revealed the face of a young Asian woman.

At the sight of DI Khan, Hawkins felt his legs start to give; he had to steady himself on the side of the vehicle. Not Kahn—anybody but Khan.

“Killed instantly by a shot to the head,” Valance said, now switching to his cold coroner style. “She wouldn’t have suffered.”

“The bullet’s trajectory was rather odd,” he continued. “It seems the shooter either hit the lady by mistake, or it was just a pure lucky shot, from someone with a very poor aim or technique.”

Hawkins looked at the young woman’s face; DI Khan had been so honest, so true. Hawkins had thought she was simply career hungry, just another female ethnic making her way up the ladder. All she’d wanted to do was go after the real villains.

“I believe the gun was probably held almost sideways, and from above her, as if it was fired by some youth who I imagine, learned how a firearm should be held by watching movies. She also has wounds consistent with someone who has been restrained using cable ties, I would assume possibly held captive for a period of time before her murder.”

Held captive then shot dead; how could this happen to one of his officers? How could it happen to Khan?

“There is a slight abrasion to the back of the head, just under the exit wound. I believe it was likely she was knocked unconscious, judging by the injury, and then probably taken captive for a period of time before the fatal shot,” Valance continued.

Hawkins was barely listening. He could barely move his eyes from Khan’s innocent face. You stupid girl, how could you put yourself in harm’s way like this? I deliberately put you on an easy case, something safe, to give you a chance to learn the reigns. What on earth were you up to that led to this?

“It’s always worse when they’re young,” Valance concluded.

Hawkins wasn’t listening. Where was DS Early? He was meant to be looking after her, helping her learn the ropes and keeping her from harm.

A tear rolled down the side of his face.

“Why do I need to wait down here?” Dawn asked, looking disappointedly around the hospital cafe.

“I told you before,” Mickey replied. “Jackie hasn’t seen a group of people for a while now, so we need to just break her in slowly.”

Dawn looked toward Seamus. “So why doesn’t
he
stay downstairs?”

“I don’t mind Mick,” Seamus shrugged.

Mickie bit his lip. How on God’s green earth, he wondered, had Robert thought Seamus would have anything near to the kind of smarts needed in their game? The thing was, there were a lot of things he did which he liked to hide from Dawn, grim stuff, dark things he had to do, and this was one of them. He needed Dawn to believe that Jackie was being released by the hospital for the weekend, and Charlie wanted Jackie to be thinking the same. The only way this could be achieved was by keeping both ladies in the dark about the exact nature of this release.

Mickey worried that if Dawn knew that Jackie shouldn’t be leaving hospital, she’d not want any part of the party, for fear of the effect on her friend’s long term health. Mickey had a colder view on this. There was no long term health opportunity for Jackie; all that was left was to live in the moment.

“I’m going up there with you Mickey!” Dawn said, grabbing his arm.

He took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Darling please could you wait here? Charlie wants her to have a really calm time when she leaves her room. You know what the two of you are like, you’ll be giving each other hugs and shit. Give her a few minutes to adjust, then when she gets down here you can make a fuss of her.”

Dawn made a face to show her disappointment. “Well, at least give me some change so I can get myself a cuppa.”

“Of course,” Mickey replied. “Give her some change, Seamus.”

Seamus looked like he was about to argue this point, but then sensibly decided against it. He dutifully passed Dawn a handful of change.

“Come on,” Mickey said, beckoning for Seamus to follow him up the stairs.

He waited until Dawn was out of earshot and punched Seamus on the arm. “Why the bleeding hell did you say you’d wait downstairs?”

Seamus grabbed his arm in pain. “Sorry Mickey. It seemed Dawn wanted to go to see her more than me.”

Mickey glanced back at Seamus in disgust. “You know we’re breaking Jackie out of here and you also know we want them both to think the hospital has released her.”

“It’s a good job she stayed downstairs then,” Seamus replied.

Jesus Christ, Mickey thought, maybe they should stop in the brain clinic to get Seamus a quick scan.

Moments later, Mickey was creeping into Jackie’s room; he had told Seamus to stay outside. Jackie didn’t know Seamus and he wasn’t sure what type of state she would be in. But he was sure she’d want to keep her pride.

Despite preparing himself for Jackie not looking good, he still wasn’t ready for the amount of machines she was plugged into. Aside from how distressing it was to see Jackie like his, it also presented a more pressing issue; Mickey had no type of medical knowledge and didn’t know where to start when it came to unplugging her from these things. There was then the problem that she might actually
need
to stay hooked to some of these machines; she might collapse the moment she stood up.

Whatever was the case, Mickey knew that he needed a doctor here. This was a real pain in the arse; it wasn’t the original plan. That involved sneaking her out and then back again the following day, potentially passing a few notes to a couple of nurses to keep them stum—job done. Worst case scenario, he planned to get his personal chemist, Ricky the Rat, to boost her up for the weekend with some of his more private prescription type items.

Mickey had to get a doctor. Shit!

“Mickey?” Jackie said, slowly waking. “Mickey is that you?”

Mickey turned to look at Jackie. He had been completely distracted by the machines and the importance they seemed to carry; he hadn’t even looked at Jackie. She looked awful. She had always been pretty and still had her looks. But where she once had a thin face, that showed off her high cheek bones and jaw line, she now looked more gaunt than thin and her skin barely had any colour.

Mickey thought of all the talk about Charlie having lost his edge, which he had stamped out on every occasion he’d heard it. However, now that he could see Jackie O’Neil in person he couldn’t believe this wouldn’t have affected Charlie.

Mickey managed a smile, “Hey babes how you doing?”

Jackie smiled back, “Good, where’s Dawn. Is she with you?”

“Yeah she’s downstairs,” Mickey said, taking a seat in the chair by her bed.

“Is she not coming up?” Jackie asked.

“No,” Mickey smiled. “You’re going downstairs.”

Jackie’s face brightened, “Am I being released?”

Mickey could see the excitement in her face at the potential good news. He wished he could simply and honestly nod and confirm this, but he couldn’t.

“Yeah apparently things are looking up,” Mickey said. “And it’s perfect timing, cause it’s your party is tonight.”

“Is it Friday already? I must have spent days sleeping. Poor Charlie must have been sat by my bed with me just asleep,” she said, still seeming drowsy. “I don’t feel as if I’ve seen him for days.”

“Who’s your doctor Jackie? I need to speak to him before we get you out of here,” Mickey said, wanting to steer the conversation a bit. He wasn’t sure if Charlie had been at the hospital at all over the last few days.

“It’s a nice man called Doctor Haig,” Jackie said, starting to look as if she was drifting off to sleep again. “I’m not sure where his office is though.”

Mickey put his hand on hers. “It’s alright, Jackie, you get some shut eye, you’ll need it. I'll find the doctor, and be back in a mo.”

It didn’t take Mickey and Seamus long to find Haig’s office; there was a large oak door at the end of the corridor on with his name on a plaque outside. Mickey knocked on the door and a man wearing a white medical coat opened it.

“Yes.”

“Doctor Haig?” Mickey answered.

“Yes?” Haig replied.

“We need some of your time,” Mickey said, trying to peer inside the doctor’s office.

The doctor now looked at the two men nervously. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”

“No,” Mickey said, kicking the door open.

The force of the kick knocked the doctor off his feet and onto the floor; he was just getting to his feet in time to see Seamus follow Mickey into the room and lock the office door behind him.

“Is this some kind of robbery?” Haig asked nervously.

Mickey looked across at the large leather chair, behind the doctor’s expensive looking desk. “Do you mind if I,” Mickey said, gesturing towards the seat.

The doctor shrugged, not sure how to respond.

“Thanks,” Mickey said sitting down in the chair. He tried the different buttons on the leather seat and reclined to a position he found most comfortable. “This is a damn good chair, Doc.”

“Oh my God! This is a robbery?” asked Dr Haig, looking at the former champion boxer, who was now stood with his arms folded in front of the door. “I have a Range Rover outside it’s got to be worth at least…”

“I got one too. What’s your model?” Seamus asked keenly.

The doctor stared in surprise at Seamus. “Err… The Vogue, four point four litre,” he stammered.

“Really,” Seamus looking disappointed. “I got a Sport.”

“They’re largely the same cars these days.” The doctor said, sweating. “One’s just got a body kit on.”

“I told you to get the fucking Vogue,” Mickey said, chipping in. “I tried to tell him Doc; one suggests class the other no bloody class.”

“But, I like the body kit,” Seamus shrugged.

“Titt. Now doctor take a seat; time is of the essence for us,” Mickey said, inviting Haig to take a seat in front of the desk that he had commandeered.

The doctor glanced at the door. He couldn’t hide concern on his face as he took a seat in front of Mickey.

“We’re here to make a withdrawal,” Mickey said.

“A withdrawal?” Haig asked.

“Yes, I’m here representing Charlie O'Neil, and he needs his wife out for the weekend, so she can go to her party,” Mickey said, adjusting his seat backwards again. “It’s only for the weekend, but of course I need to unplug all those wires and shit for us.”

The doctor looked disgusted. “You’re joking?”

Mickey adjusted the seat and leant forward onto the desk, trying to give himself a more formal posture. When he had already asked for something the first time, he was not used to having to ask again.

“Now doctor, I’m going to let that last comment slide, because Mr. O’Neil said you’re the best money can get. I mean, I wouldn’t want to hurt those delicate hands of yours. I’ll tell you something though, I didn’t come here to tell jokes, and I’m going to try and not be offended by the suggestion.”

Haig moved nervously in his seat and wiped some sweat away for his brow. “Sir, I don’t know who you are…” he began.

“I tell ya, he tells jokes,” Mickey said nodding towards Seamus. “But they’re all fucking shit. Now let’s start again. I’m Mickey.”

“Right well, Mickey, Mrs. O’Neil is seriously ill. You can’t just take the lady out of here on my say so, as if that will make it ok.”

“Sure we can,” Mickey replied.

“No you can’t!” Haig snapped, his professional integrity overtaking his fear. “Mrs. O’Neil needs every machine that her body is currently connected to. If you are here representing Mr. O’Neil you can tell him that. And maybe if he actually returned my calls, I’d be able to tell him every detail about Mrs. O’Neil’s illness myself. If he had done this before now, he would not send some heavies down to break her out as if she was in a prison!”

Mickey didn’t react to this outburst. He was well used to provoking emotional reactions in people; he understood the best way to stay in control was to ignore the emotion and keep calm. 

Mickey coolly looked back at Haig. Emotion was human nature’s way of influencing people in the most dire of situations; even the most hardened influencers can be moved by the tactic. This was why Mickey trained himself to switch off when he heard the familiar vocal change that signalled a charge of emotion.

“I mean really,” Haig said begin to calm. “If you took Mrs. O’Neil out of hospital today, she would need a highly skilled doctor to accompany her at all times to keep her under observation.”

Mickey smiled—bang! Every time, you let the emotion dry out, listen to the words and look for your hook. “A highly skilled doctor like you?”

“Yes exactly,” Haig snapped, thinking he’d made his point.

Mickey reached into his pocket, took out a wad of notes and flicked through them—about five grand. He tossed the notes onto the desk.

“That’ll buy you for the weekend, wouldn’t it?” Mickey asked.

The doctor scowled at the pound notes on his desk and shook his head. “I wasn’t being serious.”

“I was,” Mickey replied coldly.

“What you’re asking is ridiculous,” Haig said, finding it hard not to glance at the notes.

“Of course, a fella like me always looks for the best option, so to speak, when I’m looking to convince someone to do something,” Mickey said, looking right into Haig’s eyes, showing his strength of character. “And I’m thinking, you’re far too clever a chap to find out what another option to convince you might involve.”

“You’re serious?” the doctor replied.

Mickey’s face hardened. The doctor looked back at the notes on the desk. His brow was now wet with sweat again.

“This is ridiculous!" Haig shouted. “Fine! But I’m going to need access to some very particular medication for Mrs O’Neil; otherwise even with me accompanying her, she’d be in a very bad way.”

“I can get access to whatever you think will be best to return her to some form of normal for a couple of days,” Mickey replied. “And you should know one last thing; as far as anyone else is concerned, including Jackie herself, she’s been allowed out for the weekend, cause she’s medically able to.”

“You want me to break my medical oaths and lie as well?”

“It would save Seamus, over there, from breaking your medical bones.”

“Hey Mick,” Seamus said. “Maybe we could take the doctor’s car back to Mr. O’Neil’s? I’d be interested to see how it handles.”

Mickey looked back at the younger man. “I don’t think so Seamus.”

Within the hour, Mickey was walking down the stairs, with his arms open and a proud smile, towards his wife. Dawn was stood at the bottom of the stairs, with her hands on her hips, angry due to the wait.

“She’s just coming baby.”

Dawn glared up at him. “You’ve been ages Mickey, and I’ve been waiting down here for bloody hours!”

Mickey gave her hug and a kiss. “Your friend’s just coming, then you can have a nice girly day, with a good party at the end of it.”

“Don’t try your stupid psychologist talk on me, Mickey. It won’t work. I’ve been down here all this time surrounded by all these sick people; I have been subjected to some dreadful images!”