The Front (38 page)

       
‘Don’t be such a drama queen!’ Suzie snapped, grabbing her coat and walking out as Mal stared open-mouthed at her retreating back.

Suzie took her time strolling to the shop. When she got there, she walked slowly down the first aisle, picking up items here and there and studying their labels intently. She was determined not to hurry back. She wanted Mal, Lee and Elaine to suffer for a bit longer. She walked up and down each aisle several times, stopping to look at everything, picking up a few bits and pieces along the way. Shampoo, toothpaste, toilet rolls!

       
She smiled as she popped this into the basket, enjoying the small revenge. Just part payment for what they’d done to her. She only hoped Sam wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag while she was out, or Mal would be doubly bad when he recovered.

       
After fifteen minutes she had circled the shop three times and was bored. She made her way to the counter, where all three of the Singh brothers were now standing watching her. She felt distinctly uneasy as she approached with her basket. Why were they staring at her so intently? Did they know she was involved in the robbery? Her palms were slippery with sweat as she put the basket down, and she realized her hands were shaking. She just hoped the brothers hadn’t noticed.

       
Ranjit tilled the items up, while Raj put them into a bag. ‘Anything else?’ he asked when he’d finished.

       
Suzie was relieved to see that he was smiling, and scolded herself for being paranoid. ‘Er, yes,’ she said. ‘Do you have anything for diarrhoea?’

       
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Diocalm’s very good.’

       
‘I’ll have a box, please,’ she said, then: ‘In fact, you’d better make that two.’

       
Ranjit raised an eyebrow. ‘Someone got a gippy tummy?’

       
‘Something like that.’ Suzie grinned, casting a nervous glance at Guptar, who was still staring at her very oddly.

       
Ranjit put the boxes into the bag and said, ‘That’s eleven pounds seventy-six, please.’

       
Suzie pulled one of the twenties Mal had given her from her pocket and handed it to him, casting another nervous glance at Guptar.

       
She took her change and left the shop quickly. But before she had taken ten steps she heard Ranjit shouting at her.

       
‘Suzanne! Suzanne!’

       
She turned back and saw him waving to her from the shop door. She glanced around nervously to see if there was anyone about who could help her if anything kicked off. But, for once, the area was deserted. Looking back at Ranjit, she saw that he was smiling and relaxed a little. Maybe he’d just forgotten to put something in the bag?

       
‘What’s up?’ she asked, walking towards him. ‘Did I leave something?’

       
As she reached the door a hand shot out and grabbed her, dragging her inside. She started to scream, but it was too late – they had locked the door behind her, and now they were advancing on her, their faces twisted with anger and suspicion.

22

Millie wasn’t in when The Man and Jake called at his flat. But they decided to wait for a while, watching the entrance to his stairwell from the car.

       
They’d been there for almost an hour before the taxi pulled up. Instantly alert, they both sat forward to watch as the passenger got out. He was a small, thin, nervous-looking man, with a long straggly ponytail and scruffy clothes. They knew it was their man as soon as he turned around and they saw the line of bumpy black stitches adorning his left cheek – Max’s handiwork. They gave him a minute to get to his flat before they followed him.

Milton Payne had barely closed the door and dropped his bags of shopping when he heard the knock. Without thinking, he leaned back and opened it again. As soon as he saw the two vicious-looking men he knew he’d made a mistake, but it was too late to do anything. He made a half-hearted attempt to throw his weight against the door, but Jake effortlessly knocked him flying, and they came in, pushing him across the hallway until his back was against the far wall. He cowered there, hunching his body over in preparation for the kicking he knew would come.

       
‘I h-haven’t g-got anything,’ he whimpered.

       
‘That’s not what I heard!’ The Man said, reaching a massive hand out to pin Millie’s neck to the wall.

       
Jake grinned.
Action at last
! ‘You want me to start searching?’ he asked.

       
The Man nodded. ‘Yeah, sure.’ And, turning to Millie, he said, ‘And you’re gonna help by telling us where to start, aren’t you? Or do we have to tear the whole place to pieces, and you into the bargain?’

       
‘I don’t know what you’re looking for!’ Millie squealed. ‘I’ve got no drugs!’

       
The Man laughed, a cruel barking sound that filled Millie with dread. ‘Drugs? I ain’t interested in drugs, you skanky smack-head! It’s my fucking
money
I want – and you’d better tell me where you stashed it, or I’ll rip your fucking head off your neck – slowly!’ To emphasize this, he threw his other hand across Millie’s face, pressing down on the raw stitches and hooping his fingers into the jawbone, digging in and applying pressure – hard and slow.

       
Millie felt as though his skin were ripping, and he felt his jawbone bend beneath the huge fingers as his face began to distort.

       
‘Pleeashhh . . .’ he moaned as tears dribbled from his eyes. ‘Don’t hurt me, pleeashhh!’

       
As suddenly as he’d begun, The Man stopped squeezing and let go, slapping the swollen stitched cheek none too gently. ‘Just tell me where you stashed it, batty bwoy?’

       
Millie began to sob as he felt the blood trickle down from his burst stitches. ‘I – I honestly don’t k-know what you m-mean! Someone came a few d-days ago asking the same thing, but I don’t know anything. I s-swear on my life!’

       
Jake tutted. ‘Let’s waste him!’ he said. ‘Stop his whingeing!’

       
‘Nah!’ The Man shook his head. ‘I want to talk to the guy.’

       
‘Talk!’ Jake spat furiously. ‘What’s with all dis talkin’ shit? It’s all you ever wanna do these days. I don’t understand you, man! You should be whackin’ these dickheads, not chattin’! What’s wrong wi’ choo, man!’

       
The backhander caught Jake totally by surprise. His hand flew to his cheek where The Man’s ring had scored the flesh. He touched the thin, oozing stripe and looked at the blood on his fingers disbelievingly.

       
‘You ever talk to me like that again,’ The Man hissed, ‘I’ll do more than slap you back into line! You’re heading for a big fall, star!’

       
Jake pulled his head back angrily. ‘Wha’ you do that fe?’

       
The Man’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Like I said, you’re heading for a fall. Now you take one step too many and I’ll push you right over! You’re supposed to be my spar and I should be able to trust you, but something in you is going turncoat and that bothers me. If I can’t trust you, dread, then I got no use for you! And I’ll tell you, man: you make me reach that decision and you’ll have to go – for real!’

       
Millie watched the exchange in petrified silence. These two were friends, but if they could threaten each other like this – what would they do to
him
? The air was so thick with malice, he felt his stomach churn. If he survived this day, he was moving out of this place for ever! He didn’t care if he had to live in a box in the drains at the back of the abattoir! Anywhere would be better than this!

       
Satisfied that Jake didn’t want to press him any further, The Man turned his attention back to Millie. Seizing his lank ponytail, he pulled him away from the wall and hauled him through the doorway into the living room. Jake followed sulkily, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame as The Man threw Millie down onto a chair.

       
Everywhere around them were the signs of Max’s recent visit. The smashed TV lay on its side, against the wall now where Millie had shoved it to clear up the shattered glass. The furniture had been slashed from corner to corner, the material hanging in thin strips – the beige inner foam scored like an uncooked pork roast. The worn carpet still glittered with embedded shards of broken glass and pottery, although Millie had brushed and hoovered many times. In fact, he’d gone over the place like a maniac after getting home from the hospital that night, determined to wipe out the awful memory of the man who’d violated his space.

       
And now it was happening again – and he still didn’t know anything about this money they kept going on about.

       
The Man pulled a twenty-pound note from his pocket and snapped it open in front of Millie’s face. ‘What you know about this? he demanded.

       
Millie looked from the note to The Man in utter confusion. ‘N-nothing. What d’y’ mean?’

       
‘You saying you never seen this before?’

       
‘I don’t understand!’ Millie squeaked, flinching as The Man snapped the note again. ‘It’s just money.’

       
‘What about them marks?’ The Man jabbed a finger at the eyes.

       
Millie peered at the eyes, but without his glasses he couldn’t see any details. He shrugged nervously. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

       
‘That’s part of my money that was ripped off when Pasha got smoked!’ The Man snapped. ‘You telling me you don’t know nothing about that?’

       
‘No, honest I don’t!’

       
Mercifully, The Man’s mobile began to ring. He reached into his jacket and pulled it free, his face a mask of irritation at the interruption.

       
‘What?’ he barked. He listened for a moment, then slapped the phone shut. Marching towards the door, he motioned Jake to follow. ‘C’mon. We’ve got something!’

       
Jake caught the undertone of excitement in his voice and followed without question, leaving Millie wondering what on earth was happening.

       
He couldn’t believe it when he heard the front door slam behind them. He waited a minute, trying not to breathe as he strained to hear sounds that would tell him it was just another part of the game. Would he open the living-room door and find them waiting for him? Finally he decided to brave it. He opened the door an inch at a time until there was enough room to peep through. The flat was empty. With jelly legs he ran to the front door and threw both bolts into place, then the chain and, finally, the mortise.

       
Then he went to pack.

‘Where we going?’ Jake asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

       
‘The shop,’ The Man told him, jumping in the other side and slamming the door. ‘And get a move on.’

       
‘Why? What’s going on?’

       
‘Some girl just turned up with some of the money,’ The Man explained, grinning. ‘They’ve got her locked up in there, waiting for us!’

Suzie had been crying. Her nose was glowing red like a beacon, her eyes were puffy and sore-looking. She’d been strip-searched by Guptar, and had received a few hard slaps for struggling. She instinctively knew not to carry on fighting. These men were not like Mal. Mal hurt her when he beat her, but he always stopped at that. These men were capable of much worse.

       
She’d realized immediately what was going on when the doors had slammed shut behind her and Guptar had thrust the twenty-pound note into her face, demanding to know where she’d got it from. She’d tried to deny knowing anything, but they’d crowded around her, pushing and shoving, all screaming into her face at once.

       
‘My uncle made those marks!’ Guptar had screeched at her, pointing wildly at the smudged marks in the Queen’s eyes.

       
Suzie was shocked, and very, very frightened. None of Mal’s crew had noticed the marks. The only indication they’d had that night that the separate bundle was somehow different from the rest had been on the bag itself. It had borne the initials ‘S. M.’

       
‘You murdered our uncle!’ the brothers had accused her angrily.

       
‘I didn’t!’ she’d protested. ‘I swear to God, I didn’t!’

       
But they hadn’t believed her. How else would she have the money, unless she’d done it – or knew who had? And why else would the police have been in here with her photograph? Either way, the brothers were going to find out. And if that meant beating her until she told them what she knew – then so be it.

       
They had dragged her kicking and screaming into the stock room where Guptar had conducted his strip-search. When they had found the other marked twenty in her pocket, they had decided it was time to call in The Man.

       
Ranjit waited at the back door as Guptar tied Suzie’s hands behind her back. He saw the Jag turn onto the road and held the door open as The Man and Jake pulled into the yard, hissing at them to hurry up.

       
The Man came in first, striding into the small room like a boxer going into the ring. ‘This her?’ he asked, looking down on the terrified girl perched on the desk with her hands tied behind her back.

       
‘Murdering bitch!’ Guptar snarled, handing the two twenties to The Man. ‘She had these!’