The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) (12 page)

I listened in silence as he spoke, watched every word he uttered, scanning him for even a flicker of a lie. He was doing well; extremely convincing. Hate’s a hard emotion to fake and he had it in spades. I still wasn’t sure, still didn’t trust him, but some bits he had me believing. He was definitely an underling. He definitely hated his boss. Every statement concerning his employer was tinged with bile, laced with grievance. Hatred and wrath bubbled behind his piercing blue eyes.

‘
You understand it has to be cut four ways?’ I said, cutting him off in another boss rant.

‘
I understand. I want revenge. I want her to be punished.’ Venom spewed from his every utterance.

‘
Her?’

‘
What ...?’ he flustered.

‘
You said
her.
Your boss is a woman?’ I queried. I’d presumed it was a man. He’d never said so, but he’d never said otherwise.

‘
Yes.’ He looked shifty. It was a slip. ‘Is it a problem?’ He was regaining his temporarily lost composure.

‘
No ...’ I said making a mental note that it was what he didn’t say you had to watch for, not what he did.

‘
Good,’ he sneered. ‘I want the bitch to suffer.’ The hate was real, that was for sure.

‘
Well, I want the money,’ I returned.

‘
So do I, Mr Wolf,’ he replied. There was greed there. I was glad to see it. Greed’s a more trustworthy emotion than revenge, but it was clear which one dominated. ‘Miss Lane says you can convert the stones. I take it this is true?’

‘
I know someone. It won’t be instant, take a week minimum, possibly two, but I can do it.’ I was lying. I could have done it in a day. A guy in Golders Green named Soly would have bitten my hand off for them, but I wanted to see his reaction.

‘
That will have to be acceptable then.’ An odd reply; aggrieved yet concessionary.

‘
If it’s done any faster than that we won’t get a fair price,’ I continued, lying.

With the hate this guy had I doubted he’d continue
butling
with a mill in the bank. The pay-out needed to be delayed. Him running off the day after his boss was robbed would be suspicious to say the least. All I needed was for this nutcase to get nicked and squeal out the rest of us.

He’d made the big speech about how his boss couldn’t report it, which if I knew for sure was true might have changed things a tad. But I was trying to minimise my risks. It was bad enough I was involved, but four mill is four mill. I’ve never heard anybody let that slide.

I told Colin I’d speak to him again tomorrow as I had to get some more info off him. I needed a conflab with Curtis. I knew we needed the layout, alarms and the household routines, but this was his speciality not mine so I thought it best to check his needs before I got Colin to do anything. I knew we needed to do a stake-out. Run a little recon operation. This was too big to just wing it. It had to be done right. I took his number and said I’d call him later.

I still hadn’t fully committed to it. Okay I was in deeper than I’d intended. I thought meeting him would have given me an excuse. But, in truth, I didn’t really have a reason. Okay my hackles were up, but I was broke, hackles or no hackles.

Plus, Tabatha was doing it, whether I liked it or not. So really my only choice was to try and control the situation as best as I could and try and keep all our arses safe.

I gave her a quick ring.

‘
Tabs?’ I said once she picked up.

‘
Wolfy. Did you see Colin?’

‘
Yeah. Look Tabs, I don’t like him. I don’t trust him and think this is all going to go arse over elbow. Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘
Wolfy, I’m doing this with or without you. I want them stones.’

‘
Fine. I’m in then. I’m going to see Curtis. We’ll speak later.’

‘
We’re gonna be rich, babes, you’ll see.’

‘
Maybe. Later, Tabs. I gotta keep this moving.’

‘
Later,’ she hung up.

I jumped into Betsy and headed to see Curtis: my ace in the hole, my master burglar. This job was big, too big. Even Tabatha knew it, which is why she knew I’d want Curtis. Knew we needed him.

Curtis lived in Hammersmith. He had a small terraced flat just behind Ravenscourt Park that used to be his mother’s. She’d gone back to Jamaica and he’d taken it over. I’d known him for ages. It had started as business but over the years had turned into friendship.

Curtis had originally been a Communist stealing for the cause, filling the war chest for the revolution. He became disheartened though when he saw his superiors driving round in Mercs while he was trying to flog his bus pass for food.

He left the Communists and became a Social-Capitalist; exploiting people but feeling guilty about it later. He was an idealist; a left-wing liberal who would leap at the chance of redistributing some of the wealth. He was also an extremely seasoned burglar and trustworthy, which I thought were two qualities I was going to need for this venture.

‘
Yes, Curt,’ I said as he opened the door.

Curtis was average height and average build. His dreadlocks were thick like rope and hung below his shoulders.

‘
Wolfy.’ Curtis had his left top canine capped and when he smiled it glinted at you. ‘Come in.’ I followed him into the front room.

Curtis’ flat was cramped. It was a single bedroom apartment that he was slowly turning into a second-hand bookshop. Books lay everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. All you could see were books. They lined every wall, covered nearly every piece of floor. Curtis had created a small path between the hundreds of towers of books that led into his front room. I followed him through. The front room was equally packed. I sidestepped through this paperback city until I reached his settee. I felt like Godzilla stomping through Tokyo.

I plonked down on his sofa.

‘
What the ...?’ I said standing back up. I’d sat on a book (what else).
‘Advanced Knitting Patterns and Crochet?
Okay, Curt, this is interesting,’ I smirked.

‘
There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with that book. Tha’s a good book,’ he said with all seriousness.

Curtis was a man that read everything; any book on any subject. As long as it was on paper he’d read it.

‘
Advanced knitting?’ I said still laughing. ‘I take it you’ve already read
Basic Knitting and Crochet?’

‘
Don’t knock knitting. It’s very therapeutic.’

‘
I’m sure it is.’ My side was starting to hurt from holding in the laughter. ‘Is that one of yours?’ I said noticing he was wearing a baggy mohair jumper.

‘
No. I got this from the Oxfam shop in Sloane Square. It’s designer. Anyway wha’ ya want? You didn’t come here to talk about my knitting.’

‘
That’s for sure.’ I could feel my eyes starting to water. A big Dread Rasta knitting a scarf. I had to pass Curtis again to just to catch him in the act.

‘
So, wha’ you want?’

‘
What …? Can’t I just pass and say hello?’

‘
You can. Course you can ... but you don’t.’

‘
That’s not very nice, Curt.’

‘
So you’re just passing are ya?’

‘
Well … no.’

‘
See! So wha’ ya want?’

‘
I want to make you rich,’ I replied in all seriousness.

‘
Really?’

‘
I’m serious. Something’s come across my path that needs your particular skill set.’

‘
You mean burglary.’

‘
Well, I certainly don’t mean doilies … You don’t do doilies, do you, Curt?’

He didn’t respond. He just looked down. ‘Shit, Curt! That shit ain’t right. A big man sitting here alone making doilies. You need to get out more.’

‘
There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with handicraft,’ he said defensively pulling out a crochet needle and some cotton from behind him.

‘
You need to get out of your yard more. But don’t worry I’ve got just the thing; a million quid in diamonds.’ His eyes popped out. He edged closer. ‘Careful, Curt, you’ll drop a stitch.’

He grimaced. ‘Stop fucking about, Wolfy. Tell me wha’ blow. You serious?’

‘
Why else am I here? Like you said, I don’t do social calls. Although after what I’ve just seen …’ I said pointing at his stitching, ‘I’d better start. I think you need a visit every now and again. I think you left to your own devices is a bit disturbing.’ I was laughing again. I couldn’t help it.

‘
Tell me wha’ blow or come out me yard. I ain’t got no time to waste.’ He was getting annoyed.

‘
Emergency cable stitch situation is it?’ I was breaking up.

‘
Get out me yard. GET OUT ME YARD,’ Curt said, rising.

‘
Sorry, Curt.’ I was still giggling. ‘Sorry. Look, I’m really sorry. I’ll be serious. Just give me a minute, and maybe hide the filigree so I can concentrate.’ He reluctantly put it behind him. ‘Thanks thanks.’

‘
Well?’ he pressed.

‘
Gimme a minute. Hold on.’ I was finding it extremely difficult. I hadn’t laughed in a while and was enjoying this respite. ‘Okay, I’m ready.’

‘
You’re a fucking piss-taker, Wolfy, you know that?’

‘
I know ... I know. Okay, I’m ready.’ I composed myself. ‘There’s a job, £4 million in uncut diamonds, split four ways. One million each.’ I said it all without taking a breath. If I paused I was going to start laughing again.

‘
This real talk?’ He was sceptical and rightly so.

‘
Looks like it.’

‘
Wha’ you mean looks like it? It either is or it ain’t.’

‘
Well gimme a drag on that spliff and I’ll fill you in.’

He passed it across. I took a couple of drags and handed it back

I explained to Curtis exactly what was going on with Colin, emphasising my lack of trust in the crafty Colin. He was interested though; money always interests a poor man.

He didn’t ask why I was doing it when I didn’t trust Colin. He was well aware of the situation concerning Tabatha. He understood even more when I told him about Longy.

‘
Get the address and I'll scope the place.’ He said when I’d given him the rundown. ‘After that I’ll know what we need.’

‘
We need to move fast, Curt. I want to use Adriano’s stag night as a cover.’ Adriano was the groom in the Puglia wedding saga. A nice enough bloke from what I knew of him. I’d only met him a few times; seemed pleasant enough. He was Muzzi’s friend really which was why Muzzi was hosting the stag night; a three-day bender, a classic Muzzi party.

‘
As soon as you get the address I’m ready,’ Curtis said.

‘
Cool, I’ll shout you soon,’ I replied, getting up. ‘I gotta keep this moving. Later Curt.’

‘
Later.’

I tiptoed back out through Book City and headed to Betsy. It was Sunday and the stag do was Tuesday. We were cutting it fine. If we were going to do this we needed to hit it by Wednesday; midway through the party. I had three days.

My mobile was vibrating. Answering it I heard Marisol’s voice on the other end. The coroner’s hearing for Longy had finished. They recorded his death as ‘suspicious’. He’d suffocated from the plastic bag, but the coroner had found a large quantity of a mind-altering drug in his system.