Brotherhood of Blades (16 page)

Stephanie balanced her coffee on the papers and dug in her vast shoulder bag for her phone. ‘I haven’t got a friend in forensics, but I have got one in TIU, luckily for you,’ she said with a cheeky smile.

Georgia looked doubtfully at the precarious coffee cup. She moved it off the papers on to the desk, then, catching Georgia’s eye, she slid it on to a used brown envelope. ‘You wait till you’ve got kids,’ she grinned, rubbing at the coffee ring on the desk and making it worse.

Georgia grinned back. Stephanie had everything, she thought, except a top for her pen and a button on her jacket. And she wasn’t to know that having a child wasn’t an option for Georgia. She smoothed her hands over her perfectly gelled hair, checking that the clip was secure, and fought the urge to un-stick the loose strand that now clung to the top of Stephanie’s mouth as she waited for someone to answer her call.

‘Will you be able to cope with an affair with Dawes?’ she teased her.

‘You bet! He’s got sensitive hands.’

‘How did you work that out?’

Someone picked up the phone so Stephanie didn’t answer. A few seconds went by, then Stephanie raised her head. ‘They’ve got a trace. He’s somewhere around the shopping centre at the Elephant and Castle. They don’t know the exact location, but they think he’s in a vehicle, on the move.’

‘Get Hank Peacock to ring Oyster, and say a prayer he’s using one,’ Georgia told her, tossing her coffee cup in the bin. ‘He could be on his way back to the estate. That means someone has tipped him off about Chantelle. Alert all patrol cars to keep a lookout. We’ve circulated a description, haven’t we?’

‘Done.’ Stephanie aimed her empty coffee cup at the waste bin. It missed. Georgia stooped to pick it up. ‘It’s probably Sally Young. Or does he have any other known associates on that estate?’

Casualty was busy and Sally was anxious. She hated hospitals, had spent far too many days and nights in them. She wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for those bastard dogs, she thought angrily. A few cuts she could deal with, but not a disease from those flea-bitten creatures.

It was time someone stood up to those yobs that thought they ran the estate. She decided she would tell the police everything she knew; she could even tell them who shot that young cop. After this morning Yo-Yo Reilly’s mob deserved all they got. She’d let the police know what really went on down the Aviary, and when she did maybe they’d stay away from her Jason. That boy was going to get the chance he deserved.

She walked outside for a fag, and the first people she saw hanging about were Dwayne Ripley and Michael Delahaye. She took out her phone and pretended to dial a number, then spoke into the phone as if someone had answered.

When she clicked off Dwayne and Michael walked up to her. Dwayne spat on the ground next to her. ‘Your face looks rough,’ he said. ‘Walk into a door, did you, Sals?’

‘My Jason is coming back to sort you lot,’ she said, determined not to show she was scared. ‘We ain’t afraid of your bullying. I’m having a tetanus cos of your dogs attacking me, and if you don’t pay me for what you broke on my stall this morning, I’m going to the Feds to make this official.’

‘Christ, I’m so scared. I think I’ve pissed me pants, innit.’ That was Delahaye.

Sals sniffed loudly. ‘I’ve got friends where I got me stall, and they all witnessed what you done. You’d better pay my breakages or I’ll go to the law.’

Dwayne looked at Michael. ‘Better get her money then,’ he said.

Michael nodded. ‘Yeah, better get her paid up, innit.’

‘Just put notes through me door, and extra for the pain,’ she told him. ‘I’ll say nothing this time, but try it again and I’ll go to the Feds and get you all locked up.’

‘You’ll get paid,’ Dwayne said flatly.

She nodded, dropped her Silk Cut and ground it under her sensible flat walking shoes, then limped back into the hospital.

It didn’t take long. They patched her up, gave her two stitches over her eye and a large dressing to cover them, then injected her with anti-tetanus. She had to admit she felt a bit better, but that was more to do with what had happened outside than with the injection. She could take a couple of days off now they were paying for the breakages. It was cold out in the wind, so it would be nice to watch some daytime telly and keep warm. In a day or two she’d buy new stock and get back to the market. She wouldn’t in a million years have let Jason know what had gone on; he’d have come back and given that Dwayne Ripley what for, and that would hardly help him rebuild his life. But she’d sorted it herself now.

The police car was waiting for her when she came out. She was grateful; she had to admit she wasn’t as young as she used to be, and her legs were feeling a bit wobbly. She told the driver she was going to give the police a statement about Jason, but first, she said, she had to go back and get the clothes he had worn last night, so she could bring them to the station. She actually had no intention of getting those clothes; she’d dump them later, and bring some other clothes of his, then there would be no way he could be implicated in Haley’s murder.

With luck those lowlifes would have left the money in her door when she got back. She’d go to the station and make her statement, tell about them as well as Jason, then once the Feds picked up Ripley, Delahaye and the whole bloody lot of them and threw them all in jail, she could buy her stock and live in peace.

The police car pulled into the estate. Sally asked them to wait by the entrance; it wouldn’t do her any good to be seen in a Feds’ car. Haley Gulati had lost her life through talking to the Feds. Sally needed to be more careful.

Jason stepped off the bus and walked stealthily around the perimeter of the Aviary estate. No point going to look for Alysha, he reckoned; she was a smart kid, too smart to hide around the estate, the Brotherhood knew all the Youngers’ hiding places. Besides, as Luanne had warned, there were Fed cars everywhere. He had to be quick, do the business he’d come to do, then see Chantelle.

He walked toward the Romney where the gun would be waiting for him. Luanne wouldn’t let him down, he was sure of that.

He turned quickly into the small slip road which joined the two roads, one on to the Aviary, the other on to the Romney. As he crossed into Romney territory he stopped in his tracks. Coming toward him were Dwayne the Boot and Michael the Mince. Dwayne held a pit bull terrier on the end of a thick leather and gilt lead. He kicked the dog in the balls when he saw Young, making it snarl. Jason was terrified of dogs, but he had kept his fear under wraps since he was a kid. Right now fear was the last thing on his mind; he was too busy working out what to do next. He reckoned he might be able to take the dog out with his knife, but the odds weren’t in his favour. He needed the gun and it was now only just yards away.

He had a bottle in his leg pocket. He could knock the neck off it in a second, and there’d be eyes and skin on the ground in another. But there were two of them as well as the dog. Another few minutes and the gun and the poppers would be in his hands, then the job would take seconds. But at the moment he was in a no-win situation. If he took them on they’d let the dog loose and he’d be savaged.

At that moment he was so angry he couldn’t have cared less about dancing, or even living. What he did care about was that they didn’t get away with what they had done to Chantelle and Luanne and Alysha. He knew he had to play for time.

‘I ain’t on your territory,’ he said flatly as they approached. ‘This is Romney territory. I live here. I ain’t trespassing. So let me pass, OK?’

Boot looked at Mince and they both pretended to laugh. Boot scratched his arse. ‘This is your postcode now is it?’ Boot said, kicking the dog again. The dog snarled and lifted its lips, revealing froth and sharp teeth.

A few years ago Jason would have lost it, but prison had taught him a thing or two. Being neither black nor white, he’d been picked on by both sides, and he’d learned to choose his battles carefully. If he went down here, his chance to even out what they’d done to the girls would disappear forever. The gun was only minutes from his grasp; once he had it he would blow their brains to hell. He kept his cool, and played a smart game.

‘I don’t run nothing no more,’ he said evenly. ‘And I don’t run nowhere, neither. I ain’t on your territory. You let me be.’

Boot and Mince stared at him. Neither said a word.

‘I ain’t spoiling for a fight,’ he carried on. ‘If you see me on your soil, that’s when I’ll put my hands up. Till then back off. Let me go see me gran.’

‘I hear she’s not too well, innit?’ Mince said. He looked at Boot and they both laughed.

‘Well, ain’t that a shame?’ Boot kicked the dog in the balls for a third time, and it tried to leap at Jason. He jumped back and Mince burst out laughing again.

‘Stay off our patch,’ Boot warned him.

Jason bowed his head in a limp salute. It took all his willpower not to pull the knife and slice the bastard there and then.

‘Can I pass?’ he asked.

For a single second they all held eye contact, then Boot and Mince pulled at the dog and walked on by.

Jason gave himself a few seconds to let the tension flow out of his body, then he made his way into the alleyway leading to the Romney. He punched Luanne’s number into his mobile. She picked up. She was waiting at the hospital, and couldn’t talk for long.

‘Have you seen Alysha?’ she asked.

‘I’m looking. I’ll call you when I hear something. How’s Chantelle?’

There was silence for a few seconds, and something cold clutched at Jason’s chest. Then Luanne said, ‘She’s with the doctors. There are Feds all over. Jason, you’d better not come here. I think they’re looking for you. They’re going to fit you up for Haley’s murder.’

Somehow that wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Chantelle was still alive. He asked Luanne about the gun. It was waiting where they’d agreed, she said: in a bag in the bin by the shed, and she’d put poppers in the shed.

‘You want to hurry up and get the hell out of there,’ she told him. ‘Don’t worry about Chantelle; I’ll look out for her. Call me if you find Alysha, yeah? And keep her away from the shooting.’ She didn’t need to mention Yo-Yo and the rest of the Brotherhood; they both knew what she was talking about.

He clicked his phone shut and kicked a lamppost, nearly breaking his toe. Why didn’t he take Chantelle with him last night when he had a chance? He couldn’t even go and see her now. He pulled himself together; too much to do to waste time on might-have-beens. He’d lose his scholarship, and any chance of a life away from here, but nothing,
nothing
meant more to him than Chantelle.

It was true what they said, he thought wryly; estate boys never got away. They died from drugs or guns, or rotted in prison. Right now he was too angry to care.

A police car drew up at the edge of the estate. He moved back, pulled his cap down and his hood up and pressed his body against the broad tree trunk at the end of the alley.

He stayed there a couple of minutes, keeping perfectly still. When he looked up the car was parked, and the two Feds sat talking to each other. Neither of them was looking in his direction. He seized his chance and sauntered casually towards the shed.

Georgia and Stephanie had joined Dawes and Peacock at Luanne’s flat on the thirteenth floor of the Aviary. Uniformed officers were out in force, knocking on doors and asking neighbours for a description of anyone they’d seen earlier. No one had seen anything. All they had gathered so far was a lot of abuse.

Forensic officers were busy scraping scattered particles of dried blood and skin that were stuck to the door and hallway. Hairs and bloodstained mud from inside and outside the flat went into labelled phials, which were pocketed in evidence bags ready for the lab.

‘This is my fault,’ Stephanie said. ‘I told uniform to search for the weapon that killed Haley Gulati. That left the girls vulnerable.’

Georgia felt just as responsible. ‘If we find the weapon, it will help us send Jason Young back to prison,’ she pointed out.

‘There are more weapons to look for now.’ Dawes was tight-lipped with anger. ‘I saw the damage. It looked as if Chantelle had been attacked with a bat or a hammer. Her head was broken open.’

Georgia and Stephanie exchanged a glance, but before Dawes could make them feel any worse, Stephanie’s phone bleeped into life. As she pulled it from her pocket, sweet papers and a chewed biro top came with it.

‘TIU,’ she mouthed to Georgia. ‘They’ve picked up another signal.’ She gave a thumbs-up. ‘Yesss! Jason Young’s just used his phone again. He’s moved from the Elephant. He’s around here!’

ELEVEN

S
ally’s legs felt as if they were made of lead as she trudged slowly up the three flights of stairs. It had been a long night and an even longer morning, and her head was thumping like a set of bongo drums. She wanted nothing more than to put her feet up and have a nice cup of tea. Still, she consoled herself, after this all died down she could take a few days off the market without having to worry; at least they were paying up for what they’d done to her crockery. She’d still go to the station and tell on the Brotherhood though. It would distract the police’s attention from Jason, and give him time to get well away. She only hoped the blood on that sweatshirt was too faint to point the finger. She wasn’t going to let that gang of bullying crooks get one over her; she was going to stand up to them and get them locked away. And when she’d done that, the police would drive her home, she’d make a whole pot of tea, drink the lot, then go to bed for that hard-earned rest.

As she reached her front door and put her key in the lock a shot rang through the air. Sally heard it at the same moment as the explosion inside her head. Her forehead hit her door and white stars gently bobbed around the edge of her vision. Then her body slid heavily to the floor, and she watched those same stars diminish and fade to black. She couldn’t see the blood pumping from the hole in her neck and she didn’t hear her elderly Jamaican neighbour call her name. Everything went dark and still.