The Graft Page 23
Why the hell hadn’t her son addressed his problems years before? But then, as she knew from bitter experience, some problems were hard to face up to, let alone resolve.
She opened her little safe and took out the photos. As she gazed at them again she felt tears threaten but sniffed them back. She was harder than Tammy, had had to be.
As she looked around the spacious annexe her son had built for her and saw the beautiful furnishings Tammy had helped her choose, Angela wanted to cry so badly but all the years of keeping her feelings below the surface made it impossible.
When her husband had been at his worst she had been stoical. No matter what happened you never let the outside world know about it. Years ago that had meant the neighbours. Now, though, their nearest neighbour was so far away, you’d need a bus to get to them.
But Tammy’s crying had affected Angela more than she would ever have thought possible. As she had heard her sobbing it was as if a steel trap had been lifted off her own emotions and she had been forced to face up to the fact that her daughter-in-law was terribly unhappy through no fault of her own. The long talk they had had together had changed Angela’s perspective. That and the contents of her safe.
She had known for a long time that things weren’t right between them, and had blamed Tammy and her tantrums and her spending. But inside she’d always known it couldn’t have been that one-sided. Nick wasn’t his father’s son in name only, she reflected bitterly.
Tammy wanted love as well as sex. As the years had gone by and there had been neither from Nick it had twisted and almost destroyed her. Angela knew how that felt only too well which was why, for the moment, she would keep her own counsel about the photographs she’d found in her son’s coat pocket just ten minutes after Tammy had left.
Not for his sake - she was done with worrying about her son the moment she discovered them - but for the sake of Tammy, the daughter-in-law she’d never even liked before and now wanted only to love and protect.
Book Two
Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.
- Galatians, 6:7
He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.
- William Shakespeare King Lear (Act III, scene vi)
Chapter Fourteen
Nick watched his wife as she drank her wine. Actually gulped her wine would have been more like it. But if he could at least get her round to his way of thinking then at seventy quid a throw the bottle would have been worth it. This was an expensive and select restaurant and only Nick could have got the prime table here at such short notice. It was a place to be seen and he knew that would appeal to his wife. She loved being seen with him, and the fact he had brought her here would really please her. All her friends would hear about it and for poor Tams that was what was really important.
He had to set her mind straight on what had happened to Gary. It was important to get her on board.
Nick filled his wife’s glass once more.
‘Get that down you, Tams.’
She smiled, she was half-cut already. If it was any other man she was having lunch with she would be expecting them to put the hit on her in the next few minutes. But as it was Nick, she did not hold out much hope, though it had been known in the dim and distant past. She could always hope.
‘So who do you think did that to Gary then?’
He shrugged nonchalantly.
‘Fucked if I know, Tammy.’
She watched him closely. He was lying through his teeth, she knew that much. But she also knew that to anyone else he would look honest, baffled even. Nick Leary was a great actor. In many ways he’d missed his true vocation.
‘So your best mate and business partner is found crisply fried in a lock-up and you don’t think it’s a bit strange like? You don’t even want to know who did it?’
He shook his head again.
‘That’s right.’
Tammy looked at him a few seconds longer before saying brightly, ‘I’ll ask round the wives then. Between us we can usually get to the bottom of any skulduggery round here.’
He stared at her, aware that other diners were watching the exchange but unable to hear what they were talking about.
‘Oh, no, you won’t, lady.’
He grabbed her wrist tightly, causing her to wince.
‘Look at me, Tams, and read my lips. He was doing a dolly behind me back and he had a capture, all right?’
She nodded, a little bit worried now by the tone of his voice.
Nick looked troubled too, but then that was nothing new. He had looked like that since the burglary. He was going greyer by the day and the frown lines on his face were quickly replacing the laughter lines.
As usual she felt sorry for him. That was another knack he had. Any problem of his had always evoked her pity. Knowing the macho man front he put on, it had to be hard for him living this lie.
She also knew a lot of people including the police would think he had something to do with Gary’s accident or that he knew who was behind it.
They were too closely linked for him not to.
But thanks to the unfortunate affair of the burglar, he would be looked upon kindly. It was how their world worked and they both knew that.
Nick carried on eating as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but then in their world front was everything. And no one could front it out like her and Nick. They were expert at it, had had to be considering the life they lived.
Just like Nick Junior, she either wanted to kick him or kiss him, there was never a happy medium. His oldest friend was half dead, had been horrifically attacked, and Nick looked crushed, yet there was still something not right about any of it.
He didn’t look crushed enough.
She was convinced he was in on it all, that there was something more going on than Gary doing a dolly. She ran the facts around her head for a few moments and then said quietly, ‘Has this got anything to do with Stevie Daly?’
It was a shot in the dark and she only said the name from instinct. Years of throwing names at Nick to get a reaction had made her adept at it.
She was rewarded by seeing his face pale even more.
‘You missed your vocation, Tams, you should have been a filth.’
She laughed then, pleased to have been proved right as he knew she would be. He could always work her and she still hadn’t sussed that fact out.
‘I’m too short.’
He studied his wife. She was tiny really. It had always been part of the attraction for him, especially when she was cooperating like this. She looked vulnerable, but he knew it wouldn’t last because he could see the way her eyes were beginning to change colour. It was so minute only someone who knew her really well would notice it. She was about to start fighting him and he wasn’t sure he was able for it.
‘So what did Gary do then? It must have been bad. Stevie’s a bank robber, not a murderer, there’s a big difference.’
Nick sighed.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Tammy. You been watching too many soaps.’
She knew he wouldn’t say anything more but there was more to this and it did have something to do with Stevie, so at least that settled her mind a bit.
‘This wasn’t you, was it?’ she said, just checking.
He shook his head.
She wondered what to say next. The drink was taking hold and she was a little bit frightened. She decided to believe him; it was all she could do really. She had to protect herself, her home and her kids, they both knew that.
‘Fair enough. But can we expect a knock at the door?’
‘If plod asks, I was with you all night, OK?’
She smirked, her blue eyes almost grey now, a steely grey as she realised this was what all the chatting up was for. He’d let her get it out of him. She was learning how he operated but wouldn’t let him know that.
Knowledge was power, as he was a
lways saying.
‘I see. You need me to corroborate your pack of lies, hence this lunch. I should have guessed.’
‘You always were quick on the uptake, Tams, it’s why I married you.’
She smiled then.
‘So that was the reason, was it?’
The hurt was back in her voice and he wondered how long it would be before she got drunk, started a fight, and he could in all conscience take her home. One thing with Tams, though, a message once received was well understood. Whatever happened he had his alibi, they both knew that.
Louis Clarke was drinking a large iced vodka in a drinking club in Clerkenwell, and filling his brothers in on the new information about Tyrell’s son. The other men were all amazed by this turn of events and could tell how embarrassed Louis was even to be talking about it to them.
‘I feel like a fucking gossip!’
They all laughed nervously.
‘Well, you are in a way, aren’t you?’
Terry Clarke was red in the face with anger and embarrassment.
‘If that was one of my boys, I’d go mad.’
They all nodded, agreeing.
Tyrell was a good bloke, respected and liked. For this to befall him was upsetting for all the men at the table. It was like any disaster when it was too close to home, it made them feel the same could happen in their families. You tried to protect your kids, but whether or not you managed it was another thing entirely these days. The goalposts had been moved and the world was changing by the hour.
‘It weren’t him, it was that piece of shit that bred him. That Jude. Fucking animal she is.’
‘How did he take it?’
This from Colin, the eldest of the brothers.
‘How do you think! How would you take it?’
‘Definitely not up the arse.’
Terry’s voice was laced with innuendo and his brothers all laughed even as they felt guilty about it.
Louis sighed.
‘Look, are we going to give him a hand or not? I think he has a point about there being more to it all than meets the eye.’
Colin nodded then said, ‘I know Nick Leary, though, and he is as sound as a pound. No way he was involved.’
His tone of voice dismissed any hint of disagreement.
‘But who might be up for robbing him? I know he had a bit of trouble with Leo Green a while back. But Leo’s not a gas meter bandit. He’s just give him a slap and be done with it.’
Terry frowned. Leo Green was a gun and drug dealer. Neither was Nick Leary’s forte. He was strictly clubs and raves, fronted by his building business which even on its own kept him quids in.
‘What did they fall out over?’
‘Leo was dealing out in his clubs. You know the score - get a few youngsters to take in the gear. From what I gather it was shit and one of the kids nearly died. Fucking Es and Rohypnol - date raping, for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with getting birds drunk or giving them a bit of coke? Young people today have no fucking class! Anyway, Nick Leary had a word and it all fell out of bed, but Nick ain’t someone to mug off, he can handle himself.’
Billy Clarke intervened then.
‘But so can Leo. They must have traded off somehow if there was no blood.’
None of them answered and Louis went up to the bar and ordered more drinks. Billy glanced around at his brothers. They looked like clones of one another, and all of them together at one table was an intimidating sight. That was their strength, and they all knew it. No one messed with the Clarkes who always took each other’s part. It was a useful business arrangement as well as a good front before the general public.
‘What about Leary, though? Do you think Leo Green might have set that up in retribution like?’
Louis shook his head.
‘I can’t see it meself, but I will mention it to Tyrell. He’s in a right state since he found out about his boy being gay.’
Billy sighed.
‘Was he though? I remember seeing a documentary about rent boys and a lot of them only do it for money, they don’t enjoy it. They ain’t benders as such.’
Terry and Colin laughed.
‘When have you ever watched a fucking documentary?’
Billy flushed.
‘You know what Caroline’s like, she watches all that crap.’ The other brothers all looked at one another and laughed once more. Caroline was a tall leggy brunette with wide-spaced blue eyes, a body like a supermodel’s and a mind like a steel trap. Billy adored her and she adored him and all the brothers had a crush on her in one way or another. After three kids and twelve years of marriage she still looked like a teenager.
Billy took the joking in good part as they knew he would, whereas Terry on the other hand would have kicked off.
‘I don’t like Leo Green, a fucking tosser he is!’ grouched Colin.
‘Who’s rattled your cage?’
He was the quiet one of the boys, the thinker. Though he often came over like a rambling buffoon he was in fact the brains of the outfit in many respects. They listened to him when he did speak because it was unusual.
Colin gulped at his pint of lager before wiping his mouth noisily and saying, ‘Years ago, Leo had a tear up with a geezer who was bringing in dirty films from Amsterdam. Real near the mark they were, couldn’t get nothing like it here them days. Anyway the geezer had him over, and do you know what Leo did? This is how snidey that cunt can be - he arranged a holiday in a caravan with his wife and kids, packed up the car, even had the dog with him, then he cut the geezer up in his lorry. The geezer got out by Dartford tunnel, right, and Leo did him with a crowbar. Fucking crunched him, in front of his wife and kids and all.
‘When plod came Leo give them this big sob story about how the lorry had nearly run them off the road, how he was an innocent bloke going on holiday with his wife and kids, just grabbed the crowbar because the bloke was going to do his motor with the kids in it. Fucking plod nearly put him up for a bravery award! Well, the bloke couldn’t tell the filth what it was really about, could he? Got a capture, went to court and got banged up for threatening behaviour, ABH, you name it! Leo thought it was hilarious. That scum actually used his own kids to get even. Suppose it had all fell out of bed and the bloke had done him and then wrecked his car? His kids were babies, he put them and his wife and dog at risk to make a fucking point! Personally, I think he is capable of anything. I have never dealt with him because of it.’
‘So you think he could be involved in Sonny Boy creeping round Leary’s house?’
Colin shrugged.
‘I don’t know. All I’m saying is, he deals with young boys through his drug peddling, so it’s sensible to think he might at least have known Sonny. He deals in guns and all, which is what Tyrell was interested in, weren’t it? Where the boy got the iron from in the first place. Leo might not be personally involved, but he might put us all on the right track there.’
‘What do you mean, he deals in guns?’
This from Louis who sounded surprised.
Colin said slowly and as if he was talking to a five year old, ‘You go to his house and he sells you a gun, that is what dealing means.’
They all laughed once more.
‘Very funny. I thought he only dealt in drugs?’
Colin shrugged.
‘One of my blokes got a lovely bit of iron off him, he’s cheaper than most and all. But knowing Leo, there’s a catch to it, has to be. He’s a user.’
‘Where’s Tyrell now?’
Louis shrugged.
‘Stoned out of his fucking box. Since he left Sally he’s changed. Can’t seem to get Sonny Boy out of his mind. But that’s natural, I suppose, considering.’
‘I don’t like that Sally,’ Billy put in. ‘Caroline said to me that she’s cold, and you know my old woman - she’s rarely got a bad word to say about anyone.’
They all nodded. It was a measure of the respect they felt for Caroline that the men at the table would listen to her opinion withou
t a second’s thought. Unlike their own wives and girlfriends whose opinions were definitely never sought and never really listened to unless they were about the home or the kids.
Their territory as it were.
‘I like old Tyrell.’