The Front (6 page)

       
‘Well! I don’t know what to say,’ Wendy said when she’d finished. ‘Oh, love . . . Come here.’ Pulling Suzie to her like a child, she rocked her gently. ‘How long has this been going on, then?’

       
‘He’s not normally this bad,’ Suzie gulped back her tears, soothed by the rocking. ‘And it’s my own fault. I wind him up. I don’t know why I do it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.’

       
Wendy nodded wisely, listening to Suzie in sympathetic silence as she sifted through the information. She prided herself on seeing both sides to a story – unless it was hers and Sam’s story, in which case there was only one side: hers. Still, despite how she felt about men hitting women, she knew it couldn’t all be Mal’s fault. He was always so nice to her. Anyway, Lee had been here – it was probably his fault!

       
‘I know it must be hard,’ she said, choosing her words carefully, ‘but only you can know if you’re pushing him too far. Can’t you just learn to shut up before it gets to this? I’m sure he doesn’t mean to do it. He’s a pretty good guy, really.’

       
‘I know . . . I know,’ Suzie wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘You’re right. He deserves better than me.’

       
Much as Wendy liked Suzie, she had to agree. The kid was way out of her league. What Mal needed was a strong woman – a real woman, like herself. Someone who’d give as good as she got. That’d sort him out. It had certainly sorted Sam out. He wouldn’t dare pull a stunt like this.

       
‘You know what,’ she said with a wicked smile. ‘If Sam ever tried any of this malarkey on me, I’d rip his balls off and force-feed them to him. I would – and, what’s more, he knows it! That’s how you’ve got to keep them, you know? On their knees – under your stiletto!’ She laughed suddenly. ‘I think I should be one of them wotsit women . . . Dominatrix! That’s it!’

       
Suzie giggled at this, and bled some more. ‘You wouldn’t!’

       
Pulling a tissue from her pocket, Wendy gently dabbed at Suzie’s lip. ‘Too right I bloody would! And I’d be good at it an’ all. Ooh, yeah! I could just fancy getting rigged up in rubber. That’d be a kick. A rubber basque, with cut-out titty bits. And a whip! God, that’d be fun. I’d skelp every one of the sad gits that walked through the door, whip the skin straight off of his sorry arse and get
paid
for doing it! And I’d laugh. My God, I’d laugh! Serve ’em right, the sorry bunch of bastards!’

       
Pausing, Wendy patted her stomach and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘I might just give it a go when I drop this little load. Get myself down to the gym to tone up first, then a quick trip to one of those naughty-knickers parties to sort out some horny gear, and Bob’s-yer-dominated-uncle! Tell you what, Sooze.’ She nudged her. ‘You can come and work with me if you want. I reckon we’d make a good team.’

       
Suzie blushed. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d be useless.’

       
Wendy drew her head back and snorted. ‘Don’t underestimate yourself, girl!’

       
Struggling to her feet, she rubbed at her back, then headed for the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, ‘Why don’t I make us a brew, eh? Coffee all right?’

       
‘Yeah, thanks.’ Suzie grinned as she wrapped the dressing gown tighter around herself. Wendy could be really funny sometimes. She could also be a terrifying bitch, but like this she was great.

       
Popping her head around the door a second later, Wendy grinned mischievously. ‘Tell you what. How’s about we sack the coffee and nip out for a bottle of wine. We can watch a vid, get pissed . . . and have a little smoke!’ She pulled the piece of draw she’d ‘confiscated’ from Sam out of her pocket and waved it triumphantly. ‘Got any skins?’

       
‘On the shelf.’ Suzie pointed. ‘Here, you
were
joking, weren’t you? About doing the . . . you know?’

       
‘No, I bloody wasn’t!’ Wendy exclaimed loudly as she waddled across to get the Rizla papers. ‘And you don’t need to look so shocked, Suzie. Women
are
allowed to like sex, you know. I might as well get paid for it, is all I’m saying. Here, start this off while I go to the loo.’ She threw the papers to Suzie and made her way out, moaning, ‘God, I can’t wait to drop this. It makes me leak like a bleeding tap!’

Mal and Lee were high as kites by the time they set off. It was only eleven-thirty, but Lee insisted they needed the extra time to suss everything out. Reaching Hulme ten minutes later, Lee slowed down and turned onto City Road.

       
Turf of the posse that was out for Sam’s blood, City Road was the only main road running through the estate. There were many minor roads leading off it, but they just provided access to the various mazes that made up the different parts of the estate, and they all led back to City Road. The one they wanted was the last on the right. Cornbrook Road – a short, narrow road with just a single dim street light at its corner.

       
On their right as they turned onto Cornbrook Road were the rear yards of the shops – each separated from its neighbour by a low wall, with just enough room for a couple of vehicles. On the left, stretching the entire length of the shops, was St Ignatius’s Residential Home for the Elderly. And straight ahead, at the end, sat a hulking twenty-storey high-rise, the car park of which overlooked both the Home and the shops, as well as providing a clear view of the City Road entrance. It was here that Lee had spent the past four Sunday nights – just out of sight of the flats’ security camera as it slowly scanned the area.

       
Slowly making his way into the car park, he reversed into the familiar shadows and cut the engine. Killing the lights, he peered out through the windows for any signs of movement in the surrounding darkness. As he’d expected, there were none. The area was deserted – anyone going out was already long gone, and would probably not be back until much later. The Home was also in complete darkness, each of its residents soundly asleep by now, and probably too deaf or short-sighted to notice any irregularity even if they had been awake.

       
Now Lee and his mates just had to get on with the wait as best they could.

It was exactly twelve-fifteen when the three figures emerged from the shadows at the side of the supermarket. Pasha’s nephews – or ‘The Goons’, as Lee called them. They were illuminated for a split second by the street lamp before disappearing around the gate into the rear yard.

       
‘And they’re off,’ hissed Lee excitedly. Slouching down in his seat, he pulled his mask over his head.

       
A jolt of electricity charged the air in the car. The windows fogged over as the men’s body heat surged, and adrenalin flooded their veins.

       
Mal rubbed a small hole in the condensation to watch the van drive away. ‘Let’s go!’ he yelled as soon as it disappeared around the corner. Grinning, he pulled his mask on and reached for the door handle.

       
Lee grabbed his arm and held him back. ‘Hang about, speedy bollocks! We’ve got to wait while he bags up.’

       
Mal slumped back, a petulant pout pushing up through his mouth-hole. ‘So what do we do now? Sit here with our masks on like a load of bleeding terrorists?’

       
‘We’ve just gotta time it right,’ Lee explained. ‘If we go too soon he’ll see us on the cameras. Too late, and he’ll be off in a flash.’

       
‘Don’t you think we’d better leave the masks off till we get over there?’ Ged suggested quietly. ‘We don’t want to look too suss, do we?’

       
‘Good thinking, Batman,’ Mal agreed. Ripping his mask off, he angled the mirror to smooth his hair.

       
‘You vain shite!’ Lee laughed. ‘All right, leave ’em off, but keep your heads down, yeah?’

       
Sam felt a trickle of sweat run down his back as he pulled his mask off. He felt safer covered up, especially knowing that one of the posse’s girlfriends lived in the flats behind them. Even behind the car’s blacked-out windows he’d felt exposed, visible from every angle. Stepping out unmasked, he really would be. But he had to agree that it wouldn’t be too smart to walk the fifty or so exposed yards in a mask.

       
Another ten minutes passed before Lee turned and gave them the nod. Climbing out of the car as quietly as possible, they darted across the road, keeping tight to the shadows until they reached the supermarket wall. Crouching low in the bushes beside it, they had a further agonizing five-minute wait before they heard the back door creak open and footsteps shuffle out onto the concrete step.

       
Lee let out a nervous giggle, earning himself a fierce jab in the ribs from Mal who was hyped beyond belief – eaten up with the thrill of the hunt. A commando waiting to strike the enemy.

       
Squatting beside Mal, Ged could smell the urge to wreak havoc pouring from the man’s glands. It didn’t bode well, and again he silently cursed himself. If he had any sense at all he’d be a thousand miles away from this raving coke-head right now.

       
But it was too late to back out now.

Like a prison door slamming home, the shutters came down to the concrete with a loud metallic clang. Clicking the padlock firmly into place, Pasha Singh straightened up slowly. Wincing at the sharp protesting pops of his kneecaps, he arched his stiff back and rubbed a hand around his aching neck. He was getting too old for these late nights. It was time to start delegating responsibilities to his nephews. He’d have to do it sooner or later, or he’d never get back home. And that had been his intention all along. The sole reason he’d spent every waking hour in this stinking country working his fingers to the bone, building his empire. Because when he eventually did go back home, it would be as a success – or not at all.

       
Picking up the heavy money bag, he yawned long and hard. A quick trip to Moss Side to drop The Man’s money off, then home to his own plump, accommodating wife and his nice warm bed. He couldn’t wait.

       
He’d just stepped out into the pitch-dark yard, heading for his beautiful new jeep, when a noise stopped him in his tracks. Narrowing his eyes, he held his breath and tried to make out what it was and where it was coming from. Whispering, shuffling sounds. Close by.

       
A cat?

       
No way – cats didn’t whisper.

       
His nephews, then? Maybe they’d forgotten something and come back?

       
Peering around the dark yard for the van, he saw that it was gone and knew it couldn’t be them.

       
It had to be trouble, then – which was surprising, given his backer. But, luckily, he was prepared.

       
Holding his breath, he eased himself down in the dark and crouched beside the huge wheelie bin to the side of the shuttered door. Sliding his hand between its wheels, he tapped his fingers silently along the ground until he reached the gun – tucked at the back, tight against the wall behind a brick. Pulling it out slowly, he pushed the money bag under the bin. If he was being done over, they weren’t getting their hands on that. Most of it wasn’t even on the books. He’d have a hell of a time explaining it to the police – and an even harder one explaining it to The Man.

       
He couldn’t afford to lose The Man’s money. That was more than his life was worth.

       
‘What’s he doing?’ Mal hissed impatiently, straining to see into the pitch-dark yard.

       
‘Probably having a piss!’ Lee sniggered.

       
Sam was growing more nervous by the second. ‘Let’s just get it over with,’ he said. ‘Take him by surprise.’

       
‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ Ged urged cautiously.

       
‘Fuck that!’ Mal scoffed, his manic grin hidden by the mask. He was going in – alone if he had to. He was invincible. Untouchable. ‘Give us the gun, Lee!’ he demanded, holding his hand out.

       
Lee shook his head, pulling the gun tighter to his chest. ‘No way, José! This baby’s stayin’ with Papa!’ Ignoring Mal’s protestations, he snaked over the wall and rolled himself into the yard.

       
Mal was close behind, cursing through gritted teeth. So it was Lee’s gun? So fucking what? Lee wouldn’t know what to do with it, but he would.

       
‘Hang about,’ Ged hissed, gripping Sam’s arm as he made to follow. ‘No one mentioned guns to me!’

       
Sam hesitated. He trusted Ged, but they’d come this far – and he needed that money. Shaking off the restraining hand, he cocked his leg over the wall. ‘Come on, Ged. It’ll only be for show. You know what Lee’s li—’

       
He was cut short as a thunderous roar shattered the silence, followed almost instantly by a second. As the reports echoed through the darkness, he was knocked totally off balance. Falling back, he landed heavily on Ged, his eyes bulging wildly through the mask.

       
‘What the . . .? What was that?’

       
‘Shooting, man!’ gasped Ged, scrambling to his feet and hauling Sam up roughly by his collar. ‘They’re bloody shooting! We’ve got to get out of here!’

       
Just then, Mal dived over the wall, dragging a heavy cloth bag behind him. Leaping frantically to his feet, he tore his mask off and hurled it aside, yelling, ‘MOVE! MOVE!’ as he kicked his way through the bushes.

       
Colliding in their panic, Sam and Ged half-pushed, half-pulled each other out of the undergrowth and followed Mal, who was already some way ahead, running hell-for-leather across the road.