The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) (6 page)

‘
It’s a steak on legs, Leon, not a big deal,’ he replied, giving an even louder more convincing moo to show his lack of fear. The bullocks responded to his enticing sound and started to charge towards him. I had already removed myself to a safe distance, so was free to watch as three randy bullocks started to chase Boom-Boom, trying to mount him.

‘
Shit!’ Boom-Boom said realising his blunder while

dashing in the opposite direction. ‘Shoot them, Leon!’

‘
Can’t do that. These are organic. No chemicals,’ Leon replied laughing. Boom-Boom was running wildly round the field desperately trying to dodge 1,000lbs of horny hamburger.

‘
Wolfy!’ Boom-Boom bellowed at me. ‘Do something’

‘
I am,’ I replied. ‘I’m laughing. Why don’t you say ‘moo’ again?’

‘
Fuck you, Wolfy. Do something!’ He dodged left and right. The mud was damp and Boom-Boom was skidding wildly around. The bullocks weren’t giving up easy though.

‘
Wolfy, open the back of the van, Boom can lead them in.’ Leon said, spoiling the fun.

‘
Don’t you want to see whether the bullocks get some action?’ I returned, laughing even harder.

‘
We have to get back. The clock’s ticking.’ He tapped his watch. Leon was being professional, which I had to respect.

‘
I’ll open the van and you lead them in,’ I shouted at Boom-Boom, who had slipped and fallen so many times he looked like the Swamp Thing. He nodded manically in compliance. I ran back towards the van and pulled open the back, laughing so hard my eyes were watering. ‘Lead them this way, Boom.’

Boom-Boom charged towards me, mud-soaked, with fear in his eyes. Leon ran behind the bullocks, making sure they followed Boom-Boom, shouting encouragement at them.

‘
You’ll have to jump in the back, Boom, or they won’t go in. Wolfy get out the way or you’ll spook them.’ I moved round to the side giving Boom a clear run with his amorous bovines. Boom-Boom leapt into the van and in to the back of the trailer, immediately dashing into one of the stalls and closing the stall gate behind him. The bullocks leapt into the back, as keen as ever to get to know Boom-Boom, and made a beeline for where he was hiding. Once the last bullock had leapt in, Leon pulled down the shutter locking the Bullocks and Boom-Boom inside.

‘
Oi, Leon. What are you doing?’ Boom-Boom shouted from inside the trailer.

‘
You’re gonna have to stay there, Boom. I can’t get you out without letting them out, and we’re on a schedule. Just stay in the stall and you’ll be alright.’

‘
Oi, Leon. Let me out!’ Boom-Boom bellowed.

Leon ignored his pleading and jumped in the cab. I followed Leon’s lead. Boom-Boom banged on the sides.

‘
If you keep shouting you’re just going to excite them. Keep calm and we’ll be back soon,’ Leon replied.

‘
MOOOOOoo!’ I shouted through at Boom-Boom.

‘
Fuck you, Wolfy!’

‘
What, Boom? It’s just steak on legs, nothing to worry about.’ I was laughing so hard my sides hurt. Leon started the van and waving at Tom we drove off.

‘
Home time, Leon, eh.’ I said, glad it was over.

‘
Nope. One more quick one ... Best one of the lot.’

‘
I thought we were done.’

‘
Don't worry. Easy one. Won't take a mo,’ Leon grinned.

I knew it was a mistake as soon as he said
easy one
, but Leon was insistent, and as he was driving, his insistence overrode my apprehension. Even Boom-Boom was against it. It was cold and quiet and I think we both had a feeling that we were pushing our luck; tempting Fate’s hand too much. We had a good haul it was a good night’s work. Nice profit all round, but Leon was adamant. This last job, he said, was worth as much as everything we already had put together and, like gamblers who instead of collecting their winnings bet again, in the hope that they can win once more, we rolled the dice.

Leon couldn’t miss the opportunity to make money. The spectre of his past still haunted him: his past failures and miseries hung above his head like an executioner’s axe waiting to fall. Poverty and the drudgery it entailed shadowed his every footstep. He knew what it was like to go without, knew what it was to want, without hope of ever getting.

He didn’t want to return to the time when he and Kelly had scrimped and scraped their way through life, stretching every penny so they could pay the bills. Poverty was a scar that no amount of money could heal.

Before Leon acquired the club, or started up his illegitimate butcher’s, he only had his little butcher’s shop. It was meant to be a job for life, something that could be built around, something he could leave to his children. But as the business started to deteriorate, Leon realised that the ropes he was tethered by weren’t so secure, that all his dreams and aspirations would disappear with the shop. Which is why, even though he had a successful club and successful illegitimate butchers, he never missed any opportunity to make money. He was saving a nest egg to insure against future disasters.

Leon stopped the van on a country lane in front of a large metal gate that led into an open field.

Boom-Boom had managed to manoeuvre the bullocks into the stalls. He had a face like thunder when we let him out of the back. I was tempted to do a couple more mooos, but I had a bad feeling about this last job and restrained myself, with difficulty.

Boom-Boom and I grabbed the trolley. The gate was flanked either side by large overgrown hedgerows. Leon lifted the catch and opened the gate and the three of us went through, Leon leading the way.

The field which had been left uncultivated had a dark border running along the far edge of it. I think it was a hedge but because it was so far away it was hard to tell. I thought I saw a small flicker of light coming from it, glimmering briefly in the distance. I alerted Leon, but he dismissed it as my paranoia.

I placed the goggles on and started scanning the vicinity. I lagged behind the other two. Leon was marching onwards, towards an old cobbled wall. The wall ran across the centre of the field parallel to the gate we’d parked in front of, and up to the hedge where I’d thought I’d seen the light. It was about six foot high and had little bits of moss sparsely scattered across it. It was cold, wet and slippery, the stones still dripping from the earlier downpour.

We followed the wall along for a bit until Leon decided to stop. The place he’d chosen was identical to the part of the wall we’d first encountered. It was still six foot, wet cold, and slippery. The only difference was that it was nearer to our objective. I pulled myself up on to the wall following Leon and Boom-Boom’s example.

In the distance was a large manor house. We were obviously knocking off some country estate. It was too far away to get a proper look at. All that could really be told was that it was big and the lights were off.

‘
That’s what we’re after!’ Leon said pointing to a small enclosure about 200 feet inside the wall.

‘
What is it?’ Boom-Boom asked.

‘
Ostriches,’ Leon replied, jumping down from the wall into the estate.

‘
Ostriches?’ Boom-Boom and I both said, following him down.

‘
Yeah, ostriches. Some geezer I know is willing to pay some serious cash for one of those birds.’ Leon was all excited. He was making money and wearing night-vision goggles. He was in paradise.

We walked across towards the fenced enclosure, my wellies squelching in the mud. I still kept scanning everything. I thought I’d heard a noise. My mind was running away with me. Every shadow was a potential danger, every sound a possible threat. We trudged slowly to the enclosure.

It was about twenty feet round, bordered by a four-foot high wooden fence, with a large wooden shed at the far side. We opened the gate and the three of us skulked in. I pulled out the tranq gun from the bag and popped one of the ugly birds. As soon as we were sure it was out, the three of us grabbed it. I had its feet. Its claws were sharp and got tangled in my woolly jumper. I’d never imagined it could weigh so much: it was fifty per cent legs and neck.

We lugged it back out of the enclosure and back towards the wall when an alarm screeched through the air. Spotlights blasted on, drenching the estate in a blinding light. I staggered back struggling to rip the goggles from my face.

‘
Leg it!’ Leon cried. We dashed towards the wall heaving the giant turkey. Boom-Boom and I wanted to dump it, but Leon wouldn’t let us. We reached the wall. I could hear shouting at the rear. All I cared about was getting over the wall. The three of us heaved the ostrich over and into the trolley. A gunshot fired.

‘
They’re fucking shooting at us,’ I squealed, stating the obvious.

‘
Did they hit the bird?’ Leon replied.

‘
Fuck the bird, Leon!’

‘
Don't you dare dump it, Wolfy,’ Leon pleaded.

The trolley, although it had tractor tread tyres, was behaving like a normal shopping trolley, with the wheels displaying an unwillingness to go in the direction we wanted. It had reverted, under pressure, to its original incarnation.

Running, while carrying a converted shopping trolley with an unconscious ostrich inside, we dashed across the field, the wet mud causing us to slip and slide our way across, pursued by a bunch of irate farmers.

They were shooting at us. Buck shot was pinging past.

We ran back through the gate and towards the van. Frantically, we opened the back and shoved the ostrich inside, slamming the back down.

I jumped into the driver’s seat.

‘
Give us the keys!’ I screamed. Leon threw them at me and I started the engine. It spluttered into life, but at least it was alive. I slammed it into gear and smashed down on the accelerator so hard it felt like my foot was going to burst through the floor.

Buckshot bounced off the side of the van.

The tyres screamed as we pulled away, spitting mud into the air. The bloody window wipers had turned on by themselves and their whining noise added to the cacophony of chaos engulfing us.

Our pursuers were close behind almost in touching distance. I could see them in the wing mirror. Somehow one of them had got in front us; a burly wild-eyed brute of a man. He stood in the centre of the road and raised his shotgun.

‘
Shitttt!’ we cried as we ducked under the windscreen and I aimed the van straight at the farmer. The glass shattered. He'd killed the wipers (there was a god). I rose back up to see the farmer dive out of the way. Our pursuers were still chasing us, running along the road cursing us with many expletives.

Leon looked well pleased with himself. I was shaking. I'd been shot at too many times that day and wasn't stopping till I was home in bed, or under it … whichever was safer.

The rain was back and with no windscreen we were getting drenched, but at least the windscreen wipers were dead so I didn't have to listen to that incessant squeaking; the only plus of the day .

We were back in London within an hour. Leaving Leon and Boom-Boom to sort the beasties I trundled home in Betsy, determined to find out what had happened to Longy, and curious as to what was in the trunk he'd left me … the one he told me to burn.

Thursday 11:00 a.m.

The next day was a lot less eventful. Not that I was going to complain. I awoke early, sleep was easy because of fatigue, but was troubled. Alongside the cowboy hat and Longy, there were now ostriches and irate farmers. I was going to meet Tabatha. She still had some scheme to discuss, and although I was nervous about her plan, (even before I'd heard it), the thought of seeing her cheered me up.

Tabatha was sitting on a small bench near the Peace Pagoda in Battersea Park; one of those strangely odd but strangely appropriate London places, created by a Japanese Buddhist sect, a foreign shrine that London had embraced and incorporated into her fabric.