Criminally Insane (12 page)

Jinx dropped the bar onto the stand and sat up. That had been his last set of bench press for the day and his vest was soaked with sweat. He tensed his muscles in the mirror and they knotted beneath his black skin. He was in good shape. Jinx had opened the gym two years earlier for the unemployed kids on the estate to use. There were some paying customers, but the majority of members were non-profit clients. The gym was a real hardcore bodybuilders’ paradise. It was more like a scrap yard than a gymnasium. A dog-eared piece of A4 paper was pinned to the wall above the full-length mirror. It warned the clientele that spitting on the floor ‘would not be tolerated’. It was early in the morning and there was only one other member training. Jinx grabbed a towelling jacket and pulled it over his huge shoulders. The gym was on the first floor of a converted warehouse. Jinx could hear a single set of footsteps coming up the staircase. He was surprised when Jessie turned the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Jinx,” he said. He offered his hand. Jessie looked tired and worried.

“Alright, Jessie, I didn’t know you were into weightlifting.” Jinx squeezed his hand and smiled. “How’s the ears?” He wiped sweat from his brow with a white towel. It was a stupid question, but Jinx didn’t really know what to say.

“Don’t ask. I need to talk to you, Jinx.” Jessie lowered his voice despite the fact there was no one in earshot. “I’m in trouble.”

Jinx nodded his head slowly. He wasn’t sure what Jessie wanted from him, but he liked him enough to give him a listen. That couldn’t hurt. “Come into the office.” Jinx led the way down a narrow corridor which smelled of sweat and tiger balm. He opened the door with a Yale key. He pushed the door open and allowed Jessie in first. Jinx had manners. He was a tough man with a dark side, but he believed that manners and respect were priceless.

“Sit down. Do you want a drink?” Jinx asked. He opened a glass-fronted fridge and took out a tin of protein drink. He ripped of the ring-pull and took a mouthful.

“No thanks. I’m okay.” Jessie twisted uncomfortably in his seat. He had dark shadows beneath his eyes and the whites were bloodshot.

“How can I help?” Jinx sat opposite him and smiled again. Jessie looked nervous and frightened. The dark circles beneath his eyes made him look like he had been crying. Jinx looked at the clock on the wall and made a mental note of the time. He had a busy day ahead. There was no time to waste.

“The Turks have kidnapped Rose.” Jessie leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. His hands cradled his head. “They’ve taken her and I have forty-eight hours to return their drugs or they will kill us both.”

“Who told you this?”

“I don’t know his name, but he’s one of their family. He’s way above Sally.”

“Have you spoken to Sally?” Jinx knew they had a decent working relationship. They got on together.

“He’s disappeared,” Jessie shrugged. “I can’t track him down and he isn’t answering his phone.”

“Sounds to me like he was in on the robbery.” Jinx emptied his protein drink and tossed the tin into the bin with a clatter. He had people making enquiries into who could possibly have carried out the robbery, but no one was coming back with answers.

“I’m not so sure, Jinx,” Jessie shook his head. “They didn’t have the code for the safe under the ice machine. If Salim was in on it, why didn’t he let them take it when the club was empty? ”

“That could have been a blag, Jessie,” Jinx smiled. “Sally is a clever man. If they had had the code, then it had to be you or Sally that told them.”

“I agree, but he’s too clever to cross his family for a few kilos of gear. That kind of money is nothing to him.”

“Okay, he wasn’t involved if you say so.” Jinx was confused, but he couldn’t be bothered arguing about it. “What do you want from me?”

“You said you would help me with the Turks. They have taken my wife and I need help, Jinx.”

“Whoa, there!” Jinx held his hands up. “I said we would square it with the Turks. I said we would back up your story and confirm that it was a robbery. That’s all.”

“They have my wife, Jinx!”

“I’m sorry about that, Jessie, but what do you think I can do to help?”

“Could you lend me the money to cover the cost of the drugs?”

“You can’t pay that kind of money back, Jessie.”

“Please help me.”

“I can’t, Jessie.”

“They’ll kill her,” Jessie whined.

“I can’t help you.”

“Speak to them for me.”

“I can do that.” Jinx shrugged. He didn’t mind talking to them and explaining what had happened at the poker game, but that was all he was prepared to do. “Tell them to call me.”

Jessie was about to speak, but a mobile phone began ringing. They both had the same ringtone and they reached for their devices. Jinx looked at his screen. The number was unrecognised. He stabbed the green button and put the phone to his ear.

“This is Jinx,” he said. He looked at Jessie as he spoke. The call was a welcome respite from the conversation he was having. It would give him time to think. The Turks were in a league of their own. They had more soldiers than any other outfit he could think of, and they were all prepared to die for their family interests. They had a reputation unrivalled by any other crime family. If you crossed them, then you died, and so did your family, simple. Everyone knew the score. Jinx was a tough man, but he was just one man. He didn’t want to get involved in their business.

“Listen to me. I will not repeat this,” the voice on the telephone said.

“Who is this?” Jinx growled. He looked at the phone as if it had offended him.

“Shut up and listen. There is a hit out on you.”

“Go on.” Jinx stopped frowning. He could hear his heart beating in his chest.

“Leon Tanner has put a hit on you. He is paying forty thousand pounds, twenty to Jackson Walker and twenty to Dean Hines. Leon has a shipment of crack landing at Liverpool docks tomorrow, which gives you time to react. They are planning to take you out in the next few days.” The Gecko hung up. He had a few more calls to make to muddy the waters of the underworld. If he could turn all the sharks against each other, then a feeding frenzy would ensue. The more gangsters died, the happier he would be.

The line went dead. Jinx looked at the screen. He pressed recall and dialed the last number. It was dead. It had probably been a prepaid SIM.

“Look, I know you’re busy, Jinx, but I don’t have much time. I need your help.”

Jinx stood up and opened the office door. “I’m sorry, Jessie, something urgent has come up. If I were you, I would talk to the police. It’s the only chance you have.”

“Please, Jinx, I have only forty-eight hours.”

“I don’t think I’ve got that long. Sorry, Jessie, but I need you to leave now.”

Jessie nodded his head, resigned to the fact he was on his own. He couldn’t expect anyone to take on the Turks on his behalf. It would be suicide.

“Go to the police, Jessie.” Jinx shook his hand. “Tell them everything, its the only chance you have. Nobody else can help you.” Jinx closed the office door. He felt sorry for Jessie, but the call he had received changed everything. His own safety was his priority. He wasn’t surprised. He had been on a collision course with Leon for years. Leon despised the people Jinx tried to help. Leon abused the teenagers Jinx tried to protect. The city wasn’t big enough for them both, and it was obvious Leon felt the same way. Jinx knew both the men who were coming for him. Jackson was a maverick, but Deano was a family man. Jinx had no choice but to take all three of them out. Dean’s kids would be orphaned, but he couldn’t risk leaving their father alive. He would make a few calls, cash in some favours and hit them before they hit him.

The day after his mother had hit him, Nate junior went to school as normal. His mother was crashed out in bed and he didn’t see her before he left. The revelation that his mother was taking hard drugs had shocked him deeply. He was horrified. His father’s reaction was equally shocking. After taking his mother upstairs, his father hadn’t said a word to him and Nate had been so shocked that he didn’t know how to ask him about his mother’s drug taking. His father had seemed ice cold and unapproachable.

Nate walked to school as normal that morning. A double lesson of mathematics before lunchtime was more of a drag than usual. He couldn’t concentrate. All he could think about was his mother. How could his mother have developed a heroin habit, for God’s sake? She watched Jeremy Kyle and Big Brother and wore Levis jeans and other yesterday brands. It was too much to take in one go. The bell was a welcome break and he met up with some friends on the way to buy his dinner. He knew some of the lads at school had dabbled with drugs. He chatted to them about the effects of heroin. One of his close friends told him the signs, explaining how to tell that someone was using and what to look for. When he asked him why he wanted to know, Nate clammed up and blushed.

“You’re not thinking of trying that crap, are you?” his friend Carl Lewis asked him. They were walking toward the chip shop to buy their dinner. Chips, mushy peas and gravy today, Nate thought. He hadn’t eaten the night before as his mother had been smashed out her skull on smack. How embarrassing could a parent be? Talking to his friend was helping, but he didn’t want to tell him the real reason why he was asking about drugs.

“No,” Nate replied. He kicked a stone and it clattered down the road before rattling off a lamp post. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“E is okay and I’ve done a bit of weed, but smack is for dickheads, Nate.” His mate sounded like a man of the world. Nate had been sheltered by his parents. He was quiet and didn’t have many friends. Listening to his friend made him feel stupid, as if he had missed out. The other kids seemed to know all about drugs and girls and Nate knew nothing about either.

“You’ve tried E? Wow,” Nate said, impressed. Carl was one of the cool set in his year. He always had the newest trainers and the trendiest clothes. Nate liked him, but he made himself scarce when Carl’s other friends were around. They teased Nate about his boring haircut and dated fashion. His mother always bought him branded gear just as everyone else had stopped wearing it. She had a knack of buying un-cool trainers.

“Yes, of course I have,” Carl laughed. “You should come out with us sometime and drop one, great fun, you’ll be buzzing off your tits, mate.”

“Yes, I might,” Nate laughed too and doubted that he ever would. “Where do you get them from?”

“Got a mate who does a bit of dealing, know what I mean?” Carl tapped his nose with his index finger.

“I see,” Nate nodded. He didn’t have a clue, but he pretended he did.

“Hey, Carl,” a voice interrupted them.

“Hey, Grebby,” Carl shouted and threw his hand high into the air. His friend jumped up and slapped it with his own. “This is my friend, Nate.”

“Alright, Nate,” Grebby put his hand up to be slapped and Nate obliged. He felt embarrassed but welcome at the same time.

“Hi,” Nate replied meekly.

“Where are you going?” Grebby asked his friend.

“Chippy,” Carl laughed. “Starvin Marvin am I,” he said imitating Yoda from the Star Wars films.

“Nice one, I’ll join you,” Grebby slapped him on the back.

Grebby looked like a bit of a hippy. His hair was long and greasy and he was definitely not a fashion victim. Nate thought he was in the year group above them.

“I was just telling Nate here about E,” Carl chuckled and tapped his nose again.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Grebby laughed and tapped his own substantial conk. Nate noticed he had blackheads all over his nose and chin and his skin looked greasy.

“He was asking about smack before, weren’t you, mate,” Carl patted Nate on the back.

Grebby looked at Nate and then looked away quickly. Nate got the feeling he was not comfortable with the subject.

“Yes, I was just asking, that’s all,” Nate looked at his shoes as he walked. He was worried about his mother, and the look in Grebby’s eyes when they had mentioned heroin made him more concerned.

“It’s best to stay away from that shit,” Grebby said seriously. “It gets a grip on people and fucks them up, Nate.”

“I need to shoot home for a minute,” Nate blurted. He felt sick inside. “Catch you later, I’ve forgotten something important.” He turned on his heels and ran toward his house. It was a half mile away down a cul-de-sac and he never broke his stride once. The roads were quiet when he reached his street and he chose to run on the road instead of the pavement. He was hot and sweating when he turned the last corner and his breath was coming in deep gulps. Blood pumped loudly through his brain and the air he sucked into his lungs felt scorched. He had a stitch when he reached his road. As he cleared the corner house, he saw an ambulance parked on his driveway.

Nate stopped in his tracks. He was breathing heavily as a police car screamed past him with its siren blaring. His father stood on the driveway with his head in his hands. Nate sprinted as fast as he could toward the house.

“Dad, what’s happened?” He shouted as he approached. The policemen were climbing out of their car as he reached the driveway.

“Why aren’t you at school?” His father looked shocked to see him. He positioned himself between Nate and the front door.

“What’s happened?” Nate was panicking. Somehow he knew it was his mother. “Where’s Mum?”

“Nate, she’s not good, son,” his father replied.

Nate was running at full pelt and he used his sporting prowess to sidestep his dad with ease.

“Nate!” He shouted as his son bounded through the front door and cleared the first three stairs, heading for the upstairs. Nate took the stairs two at a time and then stopped suddenly.

There was a paramedic kneeling next to his mother’s body on the bathroom floor. She had a needle hanging from her arm and there was dried vomit down her chest and around her mouth and nostrils. Her skin was grey and blue veins stood out around her eyelids.

The next few hours were a blur as the police and ambulance crew inspected his mother’s dead body.

The inquest declared it was death by misadventure, heroin overdose. There were no other needle marks on her body, but there were opiates in her hair and fingernails, which indicated she had been using for months.

Nate couldn’t help but think his father had something to do with his mother’s death, but their relationship was so estranged he couldn’t talk to him about college, let alone his concerns. He felt isolated and alone. He loved his mother. She was the only real parent he’d had. His memories of his father were waving goodnight at the study door on the few occasions he came home.

The funeral was a blur. A handful of family showed up, then disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. His college friends rallied around and tried to console him with an ecstasy tablet and tequila shots. Nate collapsed in his friend’s bedroom. After two weeks in high dependency care his kidneys failed, and the Gecko organised his second funeral in a month.