The Night the Rich Men Burned (16 page)

This would be better if he didn’t have to get out of the car. If he could drive it round the back of the building. No opening for a car. Even if there was, he doesn’t want to be seen driving round there. Raises eyebrows, if anyone’s watching. The only car in years to go round the back of that building. Do nothing that draws attention. So he’s parking on the street and getting out. The street curves in the middle, so he can’t actually see the end of it from here. Can see enough to reassure him. Nothing moving. Nothing grabbing his attention.

He has the money in his pocket. Tapping the pocket again, just to make sure. Feeling the shape of the envelope. Bowles has to be careful. He has to make sure that every penny finds its way to the seller. If he doesn’t pay, he loses a seller. Worse, word might get round that he doesn’t pay the agreed price. Then nobody sells to him. The seller has to trust the buyer as well, you know.

Peterkinney’s found a gate that leads round to the back of the building. Seems to be on the property next door. Might have to find a way over the fence between the two. Along the fence and, yes, he is in the wrong place. Bloody hell. Fence is high, but it’s easy to climb. Over it and dropping down into the yard behind the warehouse. Little jarring on the ankles, but not bad. Huh, weird layout. Big yard for lorries to collect stuff, but no way for them to get in or out. Obviously the land the fence is on used to be a part of this yard. People next door must have bought the strip of land from the warehouse owners. Or just taken it. Who really gives a shit?

He can see Lawson. There’s a short wall running along the other side of the yard and Lawson’s sitting on it. Wearing a dark hoodie, hood pulled up. That’s a great way to look conspicuous, genius. A dry day and you’re wrapped up like there’s a snowstorm. When you’re doing the pick-up on a gun, you need the seller to take the same precautions you do. You need them to have the same sense you do. To have some fucking sense, at least. Meeting outdoors at an unused location is not sensible. Sitting on the wall with your hood up in good weather is not sensible. At least he’s alone.

Peterkinney’s walking across to Lawson. Still keeping his eyes open. Don’t get complacent. Not until the gun has been in Bowles’s possession for at least eight hours. Then you can stop worrying about it. Then there’s no chance of someone in a uniform knocking on your door. Well, not no chance. Less chance. There’s never no chance. Not in this business.

‘Howie?’ Peterkinney’s asking. He knows the answer already. Stopping four feet in front of Lawson. Far enough away to make sure Lawson doesn’t do anything stupid. Because you never know that either. It was one of the first things Bowles taught him. With any new seller, you keep well back until you see the gun. They might be luring you there to take the money. Even after you see the gun, take nothing for granted. They might be planning to use it to take the money. Now Peterkinney’s starting to understand why Bowles was so nervous about this.

‘Yeah. You got the money?’

‘You got the gun?’

Lawson’s reaching under his top. Taking out a blue plastic bag. The bag is wrapped so tightly round the gun you can pretty much make out the outline of it. Not subtle. Lawson still has a lot to learn. Nervous, and making mistakes. He’ll get better. He has connections so he can get the weapons. If he keeps delivering, Bowles will make sure he gets plenty of practice. Practice makes perfect.

‘The money,’ Lawson’s saying.

Peterkinney’s taking the envelope from his pocket. That nervous moment when you have to swap. Money for gun. Who lets go first? Lawson at least has the sense to see that the seller lets go first. He’s handing the bag over. Peterkinney taking it in his left hand, now passing the envelope with his right. Pulling open the top of the bag and looking inside. He could tell from the weight already, but you check. A handgun, as advertised.

Now things are happening fast. Peterkinney’s about to look up and tell Lawson he’s done well, when he hears scuffing. Boots on the ground. Lawson is looking behind him. Suddenly he’s spinning over the wall and running. Off in the other direction. The direction of the single uniformed cop running towards them. Idiot. Trying to get out the way he came in, no matter the obstacles. Peterkinney’s thinking about the car. His escape. Turning and sprinting for the high fence.

But it’s harder this time. Struggling to get the footholds, but struggling more with his hands. The damn gun. Can’t drop it. Need to get out and need to get the gun out too. Can’t come away empty-handed. Can’t leave the gun for the cops to play with. But it’s slowing him. He’s looking behind him as he’s swinging his leg over the top of the fence. No cop. He must have gotten Lawson. That’s Lawson’s problem. He’ll only talk if he’s dead from the neck up. Even someone desperate and stupid knows that you don’t name the buyer. So the cop has Lawson to play with. Good, gives Peterkinney a better chance.

Peterkinney’s dropping to the other side of the fence. Jarring his ankles again. This time worse, but in a hurry. Ignore it and move. Something else Bowles told him. A uniformed cop is never alone. Always in pairs. And if they know there’s a gun involved, there will be at least one detective as well. So there could be two more, and they could be close. Could be at his car. Play this careful.

But careful just took a jump out the broken window. There’s a cop stepping inside the gate. Closing it behind him. Moving casually. Peterkinney’s stopped. Back the way he came? Maybe run round the other side of this building and see how his luck holds. No idea what’s there, but it’s still an option. But he’s not moving. He’s standing, watching the cop come towards him. The cop’s smiling.

‘Well, young man, what have you got there?’

So smug. Happy as a pig in shit, as they say. And Peterkinney knows him. Learned this little lesson from one of Marty’s boys. A guy he once did a collection job with pointed this cop out in a pub they went to. PC Paul Greig. Bent, the fellow told him. A fucking nightmare though. So bent he takes your money and still arrests you. You just can’t rely on him at all. But bent. That’s the important thing to remember here. It’s Peterkinney, a gun and a bent copper. Now his mind’s racing. Coming up with a new option.

Things are starting to make sense. Lawson was nervous about it. Bowles was worried that it might be a set-up. One cop came running after them. One, on his own. A situation with a gun, and only one cop came round the other way. Now Greig turns up. Nah, that doesn’t add up to an honest situation. This is a stitch-up. Lawson probably in on it. They set up the sale to catch Peterkinney. Or any employee of Bowles. But that’s not how they do things. Not when they’re honest. One cop confronting Peterkinney, all on his own. Doesn’t need to worry about the gun, the cop knows more about it than Peterkinney does. The cop will know there are no bullets to fear. But he shouldn’t be here alone.

So Peterkinney’s starting to talk. He’s not going to fight his way out of this. Whatever Greig is, he’s still a cop. Can’t run. Doesn’t know for sure what he’s up against, although he’s willing to bet now that there are only the two cops. Greig wouldn’t be on his own if there were more. Best way out is talking.

‘Can I help you, officer?’ Pausing as Greig smiles a little. ‘I’m sure I can do something to help you.’

Greig walking a little closer, standing a few feet away. ‘You think so, huh? I think if I opened that bag you’re carrying I’d find a gun. I think I could arrest you. Get you locked up for a few years. Very serious crime, carrying a gun.’

‘You could do that. But what’s the point? Another gun will replace it. Someone else will replace me. I’m sure you and me can come to a better arrangement than that. One that’ll last. One that we can all benefit from.’ His heart’s beating fast. This, talking to a cop, is far more nerve-racking than collecting a gun or money. But his mind is still sharp. It’s the good kind of nerves. Inspiring.

Greig’s looking at him. ‘So, what? You and me set up some scheme, huh? You and me take a cut of money away from the seller, that sort of thing? That your big idea?’ Looking sharply at Peterkinney. Speaking sharp too.

This is where you pick your words carefully. What do you know about Greig? How do you judge what he just said? ‘That sort of set-up wouldn’t work,’ Peterkinney’s saying honestly. ‘People would never sell to my boss if they heard people were being ripped off. But there could be another way. My boss would pay for protection. He would pay for . . .’

‘Please,’ Greig is saying, waving a dismissive hand. This isn’t what he wants to hear. He needs to hear something convincing, and this ain’t it. Roy Bowles will not pay a uniformed officer good money for limited protection.

Peterkinney’s thinking. Remembering that conversation he had with one of Marty’s boys. Greig still arrests you. He still does his job. He’s still a cop who acts like one. That’s why you don’t trust him, apparently. But if you know he’s still a proper cop, you can use that. Use it to get yourself out of this situation. Not like Greig’s told him to shut up. They’ve both essentially accepted that a deal can happen. Now they’re just negotiating.

‘You keep the money from this sale, fine,’ Peterkinney is saying. ‘Maybe there’s a way of sorting out other payments, maybe not. I’m sure we can come up with something. But look at it this way. You know there are much worse people than my boss moving guns in this city. Much worse. Much less careful. People like Mark Garvey. People like Robby Draper. You heard about this new kid Spikey?’

‘I heard. So what?’

‘So you know how my boss does his work. He’s strict. He only sells to people in the business. Everything he sells is for use in the industry. None end up in civilian cases. You know that. Can’t say that for the rest of them. Garvey will sell to anyone. Draper’s been getting desperate. Losing business and selling to anyone who’ll pay. This Spikey is a kid, selling to other kids. Street gangs. You want to keep these guns away from civilians, you need someone like my boss controlling the flow. Can’t wipe out the trade, you know that. That’s naive. If you can’t wipe it out, next best thing is controlling it. There might be money in it for you, but what I’m talking about is worth more than that. I’m talking about taking charge of who does and who doesn’t get guns in this city.’

Damn, that sounded good to Peterkinney. Can’t believe how easily it all spilled out. Almost casual. The nerves are dropping too, because he knows he’s right. Knows he sounds convincing. Knows that this is what Greig wants to hear.

Greig is looking at him. Not saying no, which is a start. Looking back towards the gate. Looking thoughtful. ‘What’s your name, kid?’

‘Peterkinney. Oliver Peterkinney.’

‘Huh. Well, Peterkinney, you may have stumbled onto something worthwhile. Your boss doesn’t get a free ride. He steps out of line and I’ll be on him. And I’ll be watching you too. We’ll be having regular meetings. You and me are going to get to know each other, you understand?’

Peterkinney’s nodding. He means that Peterkinney’s going to have to pay him regularly. The control thing might matter most, but don’t forget the money. ‘I’m sure it’ll be a profitable relationship,’ Peterkinney’s saying.

Greig’s nodding. Nice to meet a kid who gets it. Who understands the ways of the industry. He’ll do okay, this one. Greig’s nodding for the kid to leave. Watching him walk to the gate and out. Walking comfortable. Not running, not stiff. Walking like he’s just done a perfectly normal thing.

10

Arnie’s never quick to answer the door these days. More often than not bad news. Why rush? Just be someone he doesn’t want to talk to. So the person is knocking a second time when he opens it. A young fellow. Takes him a couple of seconds to recognize. It’s Alex Glass. Oliver’s wee mate. Or he was. Don’t see nearly so much of him round here any more. Which is a good thing, in Arnie’s book.

‘Hi, is Oliver about?’

The kid looks a mess. He was always a rogue, but at least he was a well-turned-out rogue. Now he looks tired. Looks like he hasn’t had a shower after a long night. Looks nervy.

‘No, he’s out. You want to leave a message or something?’ Kids these days. Don’t need to leave messages. They got about a hundred different ways of getting in touch with each other. If you can’t get through to someone it’s because they don’t want you to.

‘No, no,’ Glass is saying. Doesn’t sound convinced though. Still standing there. Seems like a boy with something to say.

Arnie’s about to close the door when the kid pipes up. ‘Actually yeah, I do. Look, tell him to call me, yeah. Home or mobile, whatever. I really need to talk to him about work. It’s important.’

That’s got Arnie pausing. ‘What work?’ he’s asking. The only work Arnie knows Oliver does is for Roy Bowles. Roy would not hire this unreliable moron. And he would not be happy to hear that one of his men has been passing work on to him. Or even talking about it, for that matter. This could be a sackable offence.

Glass is nodding, because he thinks he understands. Peterkinney has two jobs, and his grandfather wants to know which one he’s talking about. The old man might be able to put in a good word for him. This could be a chance. ‘Working for Marty, I mean. I know Oliver’s been getting loads of work from him. I haven’t been getting any. It’s a struggle, you know. Trying to make ends meet. I was hoping he might be able to help me out, get some work.’

Arnie’s nodding. His face has gone hard, but Glass is too wrapped up in his own problems to notice. ‘Why don’t you come in and wait,’ Arnie’s saying. ‘Have a cup of tea. He’s only gone out for a wee while. He won’t be long.’

Glass has nowhere else to go, so he’s stepping inside. Into the cramped kitchen. Taking a seat and a cup. Arnie sitting opposite him. Wanting to know about this Marty business, but not wanting to push it. He knows Glass will clam up if he thinks he’s dropping his mate in it. So he has to pretend that he already knows. Pretend that Oliver doesn’t mind him knowing. Even though Oliver’s obviously been keeping it from him for a while. If he’s been working for Marty since the first time Arnie heard mention of Marty’s name then this has been going on for months. The boy lying to him.