The Life (36 page)

As his cousin Danny walked towards him with a tray of drinks, he smiled widely. He had good teeth; apparently he had inherited those from his granddad as well. If his nana was to be believed, his granddad had been a paragon of every virtue except, of course, loyalty to the woman he had knocked up. He had scarpered as soon as she had told him she was in the club. He had been Jamaican according to her, and Petey believed the man had been a fucking scoundrel. A user devoid of any kind of decency; he had fucked her and left her, end of, no matter how good a spin she might put on it.

Danny sat down opposite his cousin; they both smiled in greeting but there was a coolness between them of which they were both aware.

‘Well, well, well, what’s all this cloak-and-dagger about then?’ Petey’s voice was low, bordering on the sarcastic.

Danny didn’t answer him at first, sipping on his pint of beer instead. He was a real-ale fanatic, and he savoured the mouthful of Spitfire for a few seconds, before saying earnestly, ‘You know why I’m here, Pete, let’s not play games.’

Petey shrugged nonchalantly and, sipping his pint of lager, he said with mock innocence, ‘I’m all ears, cuz.’

Danny watched his cousin; he had loved him like a brother, but he didn’t trust him any more. He couldn’t bring his personal worries to the family without there being a major fucking incident, so he just intended to let Petey know he was aware of what was going on.

‘I wasn’t at the meet with the Allen brothers, as you well know . . .’ He let his words hang in the air for a few seconds, making his point, before adding nonchalantly, ‘Seems I was a bit worse for wear that night. How are the Allens adapting to their new situation?’

Petey felt relief wash over him. He guessed that he had been sussed but clearly his cousin was not going to make a big drama out of it – if that had been his intention, he would have done it well before now. He was impressed; he had not anticipated Danny working it out at all, let alone so quickly; it just proved that he could never underestimate his cousin. He had really thought that Danny was none the wiser, assuming that when his cousin finally surfaced from his drug-induced haze, he would just kick himself for being so foolhardy.

Petey had obviously misread the situation; a mistake he would not make again. He was suddenly contrite, his handsome
face a picture of worry and wide-eyed honesty – he was good at that.

‘They were all right, actually – not exactly thrilled with how it had panned out. But they ain’t idiots, they know that they stepped over the line. The thing is, though, Danny, I’ve had my own little earn going with them.’

He watched as Danny took in the enormity of what he was saying. He had learned many years ago that the best way to disguise any real fuckery was to openly admit to a lesser charge. You could disguise the true problem you were trying to hide with an element of truth. It was simple psychology.

‘I’m trusting you with this because I realise now I was a cunt to try and keep it on the down low. If you repeat this, Danny, you know I will be in fucking deep shit. I have been creaming off the Allens’ take since day one. You know what I’m like – I always have to take things to the extreme. I ain’t skanking off the family, though, just taking a percentage of the Allens’ earn. They acted so fucking flash, like
they
were doing
us
the favour, you know? So I strong-armed them. I should have told you, but I couldn’t.’

Danny Bailey was in a quandary; this was more complicated than he had anticipated. ‘If the old men were to find out about this . . .’

Petey nodded eagerly. ‘Precisely. But I have guaranteed the Allens’ silence. You see, I knew they needed to be replaced. They were getting too fucking lairy for their own good.
I
am the one who dealt with them on a daily basis, Danny, don’t forget that.’

Danny could see the fear in his cousin’s eyes, and he had every reason to feel scared. Petey was a natural-born con man – it was part of his charm. But Danny had never thought he would be fool enough to instigate a rob against his own family; that
was as outrageous as it was perilous. Petey’s own brother had been eliminated for less. What the fuck was he thinking?

Danny lost all his self-control in an instant, absolutely sickened by what his cousin was telling him. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Petey, are you on a death wish or what? I
know
that you slipped me a roofie to keep me away from the meeting with the Allens. You fucking caned me. Can you imagine how that makes me feel? Knowing you were willing to fucking disable me? And for what? Because you are a fucking thief? Because you wanted an outside fucking earn? This is fucking unbelievable! I guessed that you had some kind of fiddle going with the Allens. I ain’t a complete fucking moron, whatever you might think. And now you have dragged me into it. I
know
about it now – that makes me a part of it.’

Petey was genuinely nervous now; Danny had suddenly become his Achilles’ heel, and he didn’t like it. If he wasn’t careful, he was well and truly fucked. This had suddenly got completely out of control. He had underestimated this cousin of his, believing strongly that he was shrewd enough to pull the proverbial wool over Danny’s eyes, but Danny was much more astute than he had ever given him credit for. He could hear the terror in his own voice, could feel the genuine panic as it washed over him.

‘Listen to me, Danny. I have sorted it, OK? I’m only telling you all this
because
you’re my cousin, because I
trust
you. I need you to stand by me on this. I swear I will never step outside of the family again.’

Danny felt sick; knowing what his cousin was capable of was not something he felt comfortable with. He finished his pint slowly, unsure how to play this. It was far too personal for him; he was not capable of such skulduggery – it just wasn’t in his nature. His own cousin had spiked his drink, and left him
incapacitated, without even the wits to take himself to the toilet. He had been completely disoriented for nearly two days, simply because this man had not wanted anyone to know he was skimming off the family. It was the sheer treachery he couldn’t get to grips with. Knowing that Petey had been capable of something so heinous was bad enough, but what was worse was that Petey now expected him to overlook it. Now that Petey had admitted his sin, admitted what he was capable of, Danny would never be able to trust the bastard again. ‘You are fucking out of order, Petey, and if you weren’t my cousin, I would cheerfully see you demolished over this.’

Petey sighed with obvious relief. ‘I swear, Danny, I still can’t believe I did it. But it must prove to you how fucking desperate I was! I couldn’t hurt you, you must know that. I just saw my chance – I wasn’t really thinking, you know?’

Danny didn’t answer him for long moments, and when he did he said sadly, ‘All I know, Petey, is that I will never trust you again. I won’t broadcast this; you’re my cousin, and you have painted yourself into the proverbial corner. But it hurts that you didn’t think that I had the sense to work out what you’d done to me – you actually thought I was that thick. Well, for your information, Einstein, you’re not as fucking clever as you think you are.’

He left him then; Danny knew if he stayed any longer he would physically harm his cousin, so he walked away.

As he watched him go, Petey Bailey knew he had just lost the best friend he would ever have. He felt almost tearful, because he had made himself a serious enemy – one who was far too close for comfort, and far more intelligent than he had ever given him credit for.

Danny had always accepted that Petey liked to be in charge, and had been more than willing to listen to his opinions and,
more to the point, respect them. Now all those years of familial friendship and camaraderie were gone. Like their fathers before them, years of love and affection had been wiped out in minutes.

Petey Bailey also knew, though, that he didn’t have the loyalty which came naturally to Danny and the others.
He
was quite capable of removing his cousin should the need arise. He knew too much and that, unfortunately for Danny, meant that Petey would be looking for any excuse now.

‘Do you really believe that Michael O’Toole can keep this up for the duration?’

Peter Bailey sighed. ‘He knows the score, Daniel, he knows he’s just a fucking front.
Everyone
knows he’s just a front. But it keeps everything on an even keel. He’s so grateful it’s pitiful to see really, and we can trust him.’

Daniel looked out of the window at the scrapyard. Unlike his brother Peter, he felt much more secure here than in their new offices. He liked the scrapyard and the whole feel of the place. It was surrounded by a big metal fence, and the night watchman kept his Dobermans here day and night; no one was coming in here without his knowledge. Peter believed they were past all of that now, but Daniel would never feel that way. He still had the gutter in his bones, and he was proud of that.

‘I think the Allens could benefit from a personal appearance.’

Peter laughed. ‘They don’t need that, Dan.’

Daniel could see their reflections in the windows of the Portakabin. Even though they were different races, there was a distinct resemblance. It was their build more than anything, and the shape of their heads. He had missed his brother when they had been at odds, and he was glad they had patched up their differences.

Daniel was of the opinion that the Allens needed to be watched, especially Terry. Billy Allen was basically a fucking
moron – a thought in his head would die of loneliness. But Terry Allen was a man whose disposition guaranteed his need for revenge.

If it was left to Daniel he would just take the fucker out; it wasn’t like anyone would miss him. But Peter felt differently. Daniel thought his brother was making a big mistake, was becoming far too lenient for his own good. But he kept his own counsel.

‘You still on for tomorrow?’

Peter stretched noisily, and said, ‘Fucking right I am! The girls are out buying new outfits as we speak!’

Daniel was pleased. It was good to have his brother back in his life.

The whole Bailey clan were together, and they were proving to be a noisy bunch.

Bernadette O’Toole was loving it; they were in the VIP enclosure of the new club in Romilly Street in Soho. Her whole life had been leading up to this moment – she was finally where she was destined to be. She was the main attraction in a nightclub her husband-to-be’s family owned, and that meant so would she soon! The icing on the cake was that everyone was staring at her; she had made damn sure she looked good.

Imelda had remarked earlier, in her usual catty way, that soon her name would be Bernie Bailey, as if that was a bad thing. She had pointedly overlooked the barely veiled insult; until she had that wedding band on her finger she daren’t start any fights. But once she was married she would cause fucking murders, and enjoy every second of it. Imelda Bailey was a bitch, that was the truth. She seemed to get her kicks from trying to get a rise out of Bernadette, but she was too shrewd to fall for that.

Her dad was on a good earn guaranteeing that he was in a jovial state of mind, which was a bonus. He was usually such a miserable ponce. Her mum was, for the first time in years, in possession of a decent wage too. All in all, Bernadette had a lot to be grateful for.

The only fly in her ointment was that Petey, her intended, was obviously worried about something. Christ Himself knew
that he wasn’t the most affectionate of men at the best of times, but tonight he had basically blanked her.

She was not about to cause ructions about it, even if she felt like it. She had to keep everything on an even keel; Petey was a man with fickle tastes.

When she saw him, a few minutes later, looking longingly down the cleavage of a young blonde waitress, she vowed that, when they were finally married, she would take the fucker apart piece by piece. He would finally see that she was not a woman who took kindly to being sidelined, humiliated or ignored. He had a big shock coming to him, and she was already relishing the day when she could finally make her feelings known. Petey Bailey was due a fucking wake-up call, and she was just the woman to give it to him.

Petey and Danny were studiously ignoring each other. Liam now knew the truth of the situation, having forced it out of Petey. He wasn’t worried that Danny would betray Petey – it seemed that this silence between them was as bad as it was going to get for the time being – but it still made him uneasy.

He glanced around the club. It was so packed no one would notice that the cousins were not really engaging anyway. He was still reeling from the revelations. Petey had always been a man of few morals, but until now he could never have been accused of being a complete fucking shithead. But Liam had to admit his brother had really earned that epithet.

The big fear was that the two patriarchs of the Bailey family would find out the
real
reason for the lads’ falling out. The boys had had their disagreements over the years – that was human nature – but this time the reason for this latest disagreement was known only to the younger members of the family.

Petey came over to him, and Liam forced a smile; he knew his reaction was going to be noted by everyone in the room. It was not the best smile, and he was aware of that. Personally, he would happily punch his brother out; as much as he loved him, even
he
could see that this time it had all gone too far. Liam was in a quandary. Petey was at fault here, but he was still his brother, and that was the real bugbear. Danny had every reason to be
fucked off and if this latest escapade came out it would not be readily overlooked by his father or his uncle.

‘You all right, Liam?’

It sounded like a challenge. Petey was drunk, and that was the last thing they needed; a drunk Petey was a troublesome Petey.

‘I’m fine, Pete, I’m
always
fine, I just go with the fucking flow. Now why don’t you use your fucking loaf, and sober up a bit. This is not the time or the place for you to be getting irate.’