A Servant of the Company (13 page)

Six paces before the lay-by was an opening in the hedge through which Bill and Ben carried their victim. ‘Now young man, if you struggle you are going to get hurt, do you understand?’ He did understand, but he couldn’t respond, the tape covering his mouth was secure. Prudence overcame fear, and he remained still.

The large cast iron grill covering the huge drain which had in the past deposited water into the adjacent stream was fan shaped, and this was to be the victim’s resting place. ‘I know what we’ll do Bill.’ If Bill could have seen his brother’s eyes, they were shining as he put forward his idea. This was the time when he excelled. ‘Turn the bugger upside down, with his head almost touching the ground and tape him to the railings.’ It had taken him some time to get all the words out, but Bill was very patient. This was his brother’s time.

‘Great idea bro’ you take his legs and I’ll support the rest, if you do his legs first onto the thick bar, the rest will be easy.’ Between them they had swung the body into position leaving the victim bound with tape and tied to the grill.

Ben checked the bindings, and when he was satisfied with them he spoke to his prisoner. ‘Are you comfy?’ No response. ‘Of course you can’t tell me can you. Nod your head then.’ In the darkness, there was no way anyone could see if the head was moving or not. But Ben continued. ‘There you are, all comfy while we are slaving away doing all the work.’

Bill stood back checking that the tape held his prisoner securely then turning to his brother said, ‘I think we’ll have coffee before we go Ben.’

His hands were on his hips admiring the job they had almost finished. Another ten minutes and they would be on their way.

Ben looked at his brother as he moved towards the parked van. ‘Let me get it this time Bill, it’s my turn.’ He suddenly felt anxious and wanted to get the job finished. If Bill drove fast, he might be in time to see Lily. ‘Do you think we’ll be back in time to go to the Parlour?’ he asked eagerly.

‘Sorry Ben, not tonight, it could take us four hours to get back, and you know our instructions, never break the speed limit, even by 1 mile an hour.’

Ben was disappointed and it was this lad’s fault. He would let him know how he had spoiled his evening. He would make him pay, yes he would pay.

Opening the flask of sweetened coffee he poured it into paper cups, passing one to his brother. Ben stared at the figure on the grill. ‘Do you want a coffee?’ He paused, looking at the youth hanging upside down. ‘I said do you want a coffee?’ There was no response. ‘Of course, you can’t talk can you? Well I’ll tell you what it’s like standing here drinking it. It’s bloody marvellous, that’s what, bloody marvellous.’ He grinned malevolently at the prone figure. ‘And do you know what? There’s rats in that tunnel, and they are hungry. And they are going to come and eat you all up. What do you think of that?’ Ben rubbed his hands together in anticipation of some great entertainment, taking care not to spill his coffee. ‘Can you hear the little buggers squeaking? Can you? They are ready for a good meal, and you’re it.’ He burst out laughing, hardly able to control himself. ‘They like blood, and I’m going to make sure there’s lots of it. They’ll have a proper party.’ He grabbed the victim’s genitals, and said, ‘And you’re giving it, I wonder if they will say thank you for a lovely meal?’

Bill put his arm across his brother’s shoulders to support himself as he laughed uncontrollably. ‘You are a card sometimes Ben. I just love your humour. I can just see all the rats lined up after their dinner getting a carry out as well. Where do you reckon they’ll start?’

Ben suddenly looked serious, ‘It depends where I start cutting.’ He stood looking at his prisoner as a surgeon would survey his patient before inserting the scalpel.

The young man had been frightened by his experience and thought he was going to get a beating and let go. The fear had now turned to sheer terror, there was no way out, he was about to die. He could not bear to think of the method, he hated rats and he would have to feel them on his face, all over everywhere. His body shook in time with his silent sobs. If only he hadn’t cheated the Organisation. The warning he had been given had been ignored and he had to accept punishment, but this was just too awful.

The tapes cut into his arms and legs as he tried to free himself but they were unforgiving. As Ben finished off his coffee, the struggling had stopped and the inert figure hung there limply. ‘I think you’ve frightened the little bastard and he’s fainted Ben, I’ll just check his pulse.’ He moved over to the boy’s body checking first his wrist and then his neck. ‘You wouldn’t believe it, the little sod’s died of fright. No guts the young generation these days. We’ll hang on for a few minutes in case he changes his mind.’ Bill checked for a pulse, but he had been correct in his first diagnosis. He was well and truly dead.

‘I was just going to get my tools from the van to open him up a bit.’ Ben sounded like a spoiled child denied extra time to play, the game not yet completed. He also wanted to inflict pain, and had been cheated.

His brother humoured him, telling him what a good job he’d done tying the youth to the railing. ‘It was real professional bro.’ He could feel Ben beginning to relax. Seeing him in one of his moods was always a worry, and he did not want any slip ups on the job. By the time they headed back towards the van, they were laughing together at how well everything had gone. Bill however was still finely tuned to any noise or movement which might disclose their activities. They had not heard any traffic pass during their time by the stream, and there were no pedestrians about. ‘All clear I would say,’ said Bill. He opened the van door and passed Ben his shoes and a carrier bag. ‘Sit on the seat so you don’t get any mud on your socks while you change, we’ll dump the carrier bags in the Smoke somewhere. The Organisation must be run by MI5 or someone like that, they think of everything.’ The plastic sheet he would dispose of at a quiet spot nearer the motorway. At the same time he would remove the signs from the sides of the van and become anonymous, just another one of the thousands of white van men on the Queen’s highway.

That job had been some time ago, but it was one he would always remember because of the way it had affected Ben. He hadn’t wanted the boy to die as quickly as he did, he had wanted revenge for not being able to go to the Parlour. The boy was to blame and he had wanted revenge badly. Dying had denied him that pleasure. Bill had been amused at the time, but didn’t show it as he didn’t want to upset his brother whose moods could be unpredictable. This time there should not be a problem, he had spoken to Lily and asked her to keep the Parlour open until he and Ben got back. She had agreed, not wanting to either lose money or incite the brothers to seek retribution. They had another job up North, and there was to be a rendezvous with another member of the Organisation. This was a change to their usual operations, and Bill had been well briefed.

He would collect two parcels from his contact at 5 p.m. in a lay-by on a ‘B’ road off the M6. His instructions were to wait until approached. After an uneventful journey, Bill and Ben had reached the rendezvous point. The lay-by was deserted, little traffic passed by and the only sound came from the rain beating on the van roof. Fifteen minutes later, a small blue van with one occupant pulled up behind them.

A man got out, pulled his anorak hood over his head and walked towards Bill’s side of the van looking around as he did so, checking that his movements were unseen.

Bill wound down his window to check that this was the person he was expecting.

‘Are you waiting for a delivery?’ He was tall, thin and had a droopy moustache which was collecting rain drops as he tried to lean away from the torrential downpour.

‘And who would that be from,’ said Bill, in an aggressive response. He wanted to make sure this wasn’t some idiot wasting his time.

‘The Organisation gave me a description of your van, and where to meet you, so now I’m here.’ He didn’t like the tone of the driver, his mate looked far more agreeable. Perhaps he should have gone to the other door. At first sight, Ben might have looked affable, but a closer look might have warned him off. ‘Well do you want the packages or not?’ He growled to match Bill’s manner. He wasn’t keen on London types at the best of times, but this one he did not like at all. He had worked hard to put together a masterpiece of his art. It was enjoyable work, the most difficult part had been getting hold of two empty metal beer kegs without anyone knowing about it. He was not a trained thief and it had taken time to find a pub expecting a delivery and having kegs awaiting uplift. Parking beside the kegs he gave a display of ham acting that would not have deceived a baby in a pram. His every movement was suspicious and he was indeed fortunate that no-one saw what he was doing. Driving from the scene he had been covered in perspiration, a state he didn’t suffer when dealing with gelignite or plastic explosives. It had taken him less than an hour to assemble the bombs. He had stepped back to admire them, as an artist would view a completed painting. Now everything was ready and sitting in his van. Once he had passed them over, he would brief the driver on how to use them, and finally give him the handset.

‘Sorry mate,’ Bill spoke softly to the anorak, ‘Can’t be too careful in our line of work. Let me get my gloves and I’ll give you a hand.’ Jumping out of the van, he joined the anorak at the rear of the blue van. He noticed that the man was also wearing gloves. Together they carefully carried the two kegs to the already open rear doors of their van.

‘You know where to put them don’t you?’ Anorak looked at both of them, expecting them to say, ‘No.’ But he was mistaken. The job had once again been planned down to the last detail. The water was now streaming down his face and all he wanted to do was get back into his van and be on his way, but he must be sure that his work was not going to be wasted. His instructions were brief but crystal clear to Bill. There were going to be no mistakes.

Once the back doors were secure, Bill headed back towards the motorway. There had been no good luck wishes from Anorak, and he was glad to see the back of him. Now he had to be very careful, a wrong move with the handset and they would never reach Manchester, or anywhere else in one piece.

They had time to spare, the kegs would stay in the van until 9.30 p.m. and they mustn’t let the van out of their sight. Bill had been told to use a transport café near Macclesfield, and stay there until 8.00 p.m. The parking area was well organised and they were able to leave the van where it could be seen from the café windows. Bill placed the handset carefully under his seat, then locking the van doors, together they headed for the biggest fry up on the menu.

‘There we are then Ben, how’s that for an all day breakfast.’ The plates were laden with bacon, eggs, sausages, black pudding, kidneys and fried bread. As they sat down a cheerful waitress brought them large mugs of tea.

‘Give me a shout if there’s anything else love,’ she said as she returned to help her husband behind the counter. She hadn’t seen this pair before, but with luck they would become good customers and keep the money rolling in.

‘Did you enjoy that my son?’ Bill softly patted Bens shoulder. ‘That’ll put hairs on your chest. That’s the best meal I’ve had for years. We’ll be back if there’s any more work up here don’t you think?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Just keep an eye on the van while I go to the bog, if anyone goes near it, get out there pronto. O.K?’

Ben was still finishing off a crust of bread so just grunted and nodded his head in Bill’s direction. He turned towards the window, and didn’t take his eyes off the van until Bill returned.

‘Your turn now. I’ll pay for this and see you in the van. Don’t be long, we’ll have to be on our way soon.’ He would feel better when he had complete control over the van and the contents. It was a dangerous cargo but if handled properly it would only harm those it was intended to harm.

They followed the route they had been given and avoided most of the CCTV cameras. If they had been caught on one or two it might not matter. Once the job was done and they had left the area, the van would acquire a nice logo on each side. It would not be the plain white van seen near the disaster area and they would drive across country for a while before rejoining the motorway en route for London.

Bill parked near the place advised by the Organisation, and had seen the targets leave the house and head for the pub. Grimshaw was instantly recognisable. He was as wide as he was tall, with hair cropped short showing most of his scalp, while the flesh at the back of his neck lay in folds. When he walked, his legs were spread apart and his arms stood away from his body. He was the nearest thing to a gorilla Bill had ever seen. The others were a mixed bunch, eager to be the ones walking next to their boss, jostling for position as they walked.

‘Christ Ben, did you get an eyeful of that. I wouldn’t like to get in a tangle with him.’ Bill was pleased the job did not require his physical skills this time. He would give them ten minutes to settle down with their drinks, say hello to their acquaintances and then he would act. The instructions he had been given allowed him on this occasion to decide on timing.

Inside the pub, Grimshaw accepted the homage that was paid to him by many of the customers. The barmaid brought a tray of drinks to his table which would not be paid for. He was home, this was his fiefdom, these were his people and he reigned supreme. Stretching himself to take up the space of three people in his reserved area, he looked about him to make sure everyone was aware of his presence. The acolyte nearest to him apologised for no apparent reason other than being too close as he sat down. Things were going to change for Grimshaw and his friends. Two men were going to earn five grand and another man’s daughter was going to be spared violation. It was going to be a good night all round for some.