R.I.P Robbie Silva (6 page)

I didn
'
t want to hear any more. I was tired and coming down from the day's antics. Jasper
'
s tales of woe would have to keep for another day. As I sipped my tea I suddenly took a start – a loud wrap on the door.

'
The fuck
'
s that?
'
My tea spilled down my jeans as I got up.

'
Calm down,
'
said Jasper.
'
Just cool the beans, eh?
'

I watched him walk towards the door. I looked out the window to see if there were any police cars pulling up in the street; he was back before I could register the scene.

'
Jed, it
'
s for you.
'

* * * *

I recognised him, and the suit, from the off.

He stood for a moment and looked at me, then back to Jasper. He was holding a carrier bag and as he opened it, leaned inside, Jasper got jumpy.

'Whoa, watch yourself there, mate.' He placed a hand on his arm, leaned over and peered into the bag. He seemed to be satisfied there was nothing dangerous inside and gave the nod.

The bloke in the suit smiled, said, 'Think I'd walk in here with a threat?'

Jasper shrugged.

'I'm long past that, not my style anymore.'

'That right?' Jasper was playing up; he
was
the type to duke it out.

The suit grinned; I spotted some gold in his teeth. 'If I wanted to do you over, my mate ... I wouldn't waste a good whistle.' The accent was London; I didn't like that. When he pulled my jacket out the carrier bag and threw it at me I knew at once how Gail's old man had found me.

'You ought to be careful, lad ... leaving a forwarding address behind.' He held up a crumpled piece of paper that I'd left in my pocket. It had Jasper's contact details on it.

'The fuck's going on here?' said Jasper.

The gadgie smiled, balled the paper and put it in his pocket. 'Looks like I'm in time for tea.' He moved over to my side of the room and picked up a Kit Kat. 'And biscuits too, lovely.'

I saw Jasper was ready to lamp the cunt, but I gave him the look, one that said I'd explain later and he retreated into the kitchen for another cup.

'Now, you must be wondering who the fucking hell I am, I shouldn't wonder.'

I knew he was Gail's old man. 'Go on, surprise me.'

He held out a hand. 'Robbie Silva. Pleased to meet you.'

I vaguely knew the name.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

He smiled. I caught sight of some more gold; it sparkled under the bare bulb above his head. As he leaned forward he tapped my arm. 'Call me Robbie.'

'If you say so.'

He laughed; a piranha smirk spread across his coupon.
'
I do, lad. I do. I mean, after your exploits with my daughter today, it should really be me offering you the tea and tiffin!
'

I wasn
'
t so sure about that.

Jasper returned with a mug of tea, set it down. Silva smiled again. I
'
d already grown tired of his grin. It was wearing.

I took up my own tea, took a sip, said,
'
Jasper, give us five minutes, eh?
'

He looked at me, frowned, then turned to the still smirking Silva. Jasper shook his head and left the room.

'
Thanks, my friend, much appreciated,
'
said Silva.
'
Now, we can have ourselves a nice old chat, eh? ... One old lag to another.
'

The mug of tea was hot; I placed it on the arm of the chair. I wondered where Silva was going with all this. I mean, I
'
d dragged his daughter – nah – let
'
s get this straight, she
'
d dragged me, into a daylight robbery situation. Either way, we
'
d had a close call. Silva was looking like a bit of a player; I couldn
'
t see him being happy about my involvement with his daughter. I could expect a good kicking ... if I was lucky.

I bolded it:
'
Look, what the fuck is this?
'

Silva leaned back, crossed his legs. I noticed he wore white sports socks with his suit; so you can take the crook out the east-end but not the other way about. Figured. He crossed his fingers, tried to look like he was starring in some fucking gangster movie or other. He might have been big time, but I
'
d seen it all before.

'
I hear you just got out of the shovel,
'
said Silva.

I hated the way these Londoners used that fucking rhyming-slang. But they were all the same.
'
And?
'

He uncrossed his legs, leaned over.
'
What
'
d you do?
'

'
Got caught.
'

He laughed, sat back. Christ, he was easily pleased. It unnerved me that I was getting on so well with him. He clearly wanted something; either that or he was very grateful I
'
d got his daughter out of a tight spot.

'
I
'
ve done my fair share of time in the shovel.
'

I saw where this was going; cue the macho-boasts. I played up to him.
'
Yeah?
'

'
I did a stretch in Albany on the Isle of White in the eighties, fucking hard stretch ... was stabbings every other day of the week back then. Not like these cushy fucking hotels they put you up in these days.
'

I looked out the window, toyed with the idea of sparking up a tab.

He went on,
'
So, what I
'
m saying is ... we
'
ve both been around.
'

I took out my snout, started to tap on the box. Silva got the message.

'
Anyway, my point is, I hear you done good today. You got my girl out a tight spot. You
'
re obviously not some ten-bob blagger.
'

I put the tab in my mouth, lit it. The smoke escaped in a long thin trail towards the ceiling. I watched it for a second or two then turned back to Silva.
'
And ... let me guess, you might be able to put a bit of work my way?
'

He leaned back again, crossed fingers. He had a bit of a gut on show as he spoke,
'
Well, likely as not I can put some work your way and it
'
d be good work. I
'
m stone ginger on that.
'

'
Y
'
wha–
?
'

'
What I
'
m saying is it would be proper work. Not just bread and butter.
'

I played him.
'
No thanks.
'

'
Now, hold on, don
'
t be hasty. Be a good few shekels in it for you. I
'
m known on this manor, ask about.
'

I huffed, said,
'
No thanks.
'

His eyes widened; the rims were red.
'
Are you fucking mugging me off?
'

I took another drag on my tab, exhaled.
'
Fact of the matter is, mate, I
'
ve seen how your daughter operates, and you know what they say ... the apple doesn
'
t fall far from the tree.
'

I
'
d given Silva a choice: he could go postal, put a heavy threat on me, or put a lid on that temper of his. I didn
'
t think he had it in him. I watched as he took breath, narrowed his eyes and looked out into the street.
'
Is that a fact, Jed Collins? See, I did a bit of research into your background and I
'
m sure you wouldn
'
t like to be punting a similar philosophy there.
'

I got out my seat, had the arm hooked ready to land one in his puss; he rose fast, fronted me. The smile was back.
'
Have a think about what I said, lad.
'

I eyeballed him. He kept a stare on me too as he dipped in his pocket and removed a card with his number on it.

I took the card but my mind was awash with old images, thoughts. I wanted to smart-mouth him back. But, he had me.

As Silva walked through the door he touched his brow.
'
Thanks for the cuppa.
'

* * * *

I was still standing in the middle of the living room floor with my heart pounding when Jasper returned. He faced me for a few moments, then ran fingers through his hair. His expression told me he was searching for the right words.

'
The fuck is going on here, Jed?
'
he said.

My mind was still all over the shop; my blood was racing.
'
What?
'

'
Have you turned my flat into a fucking flop? ... Have you just come from a fucking job?
'

I didn
'
t have the marbles to answer him. I shook my head. I knew Jasper had picked up on Silva
'
s comments about the jacket. Shit, he
'
d find out soon enough, soon as he turned on the TV news.

'
Look, I got roped in ...
'

Jasper slouched, then slumped in the chair.
'
Fucking hell,
fucking
hell.
'

'
It was supposed to be a nothing job ... it just got out of hand. I didn
'
t think it was going to amount to anything, but ...
'

'
Yeah, but what?
'

'
Jesus Christ, it was this mad bit, she lost it on me and, well, that was that.
'

Jasper stood up and paced the room.
'
This is out of order ... totally out of order, flopping at my fucking residence, after pulling a job.
'

I tried to stop him pacing; he shook off my hands.
'
What if the filth run you down?
'

'
They won
'
t ... I
'
m in the clear. Man, I wouldn
'
t have come here if I thought ...
'

'
Aw, thanks a fucking bunch, mate. Nice of you to think of me.
'

I let Jasper rant and rave for ten minutes; he silenced himself, seemed to get over the initial outburst.

I was off on one myself though, broke the silence.
'
The cunt!
'
I said.

'
Eh?
'

I nodded to the door.
'
Our visitor.
'

'
Who the fuck was he anyway?
'

I drew breath, felt my hand reach up to my mouth; I wiped away with the back of my hand, prepared for Jasper to go scripto once again.
'
Robbie Silva.
'

'
Fucking hell ... Long Dong Silva.
'

'
Wha–
?
'

'
That was Long Dong Silva? ... In my flat! Holy shit!
'

I'd heard of him but I'd been off the grid for so long I hadn't heard this handle before.
'
Why do they call him that?
'

'
He
'
s a top fucking man now, that
'
s why. Came from nowhere to be one of
the
swinging dicks in the last few years. He
'
s big time, Jed.
'

I turned away from him, went to look out the window. I saw Silva crossing the road and getting into a black Audi. The car sped off.

'
So what
'
s his angle?
'

A huff.
'
Fuck knows. Used to run porn rings a few years back – everyone said he'd road-tested the slags himself. He
'
s got a big crew around him now though, I
'
d say he
'
s into everything.
'

I moved back towards my chair, sat.
'
So what
'
s he want with me?
'

Jasper squinted, tilted his head. He lifted a palm, waved it in my direction.
'
He offered you a bit of work, eh?
'

'
Something like that.
'

'
Think he knows you?
'

'
Dunno ... knows of me, maybe.
'

'
Well, if he
'
s been asking about he
'
ll know you
'
re a good jump man.
'