Die Tryin' (30 page)

Read Die Tryin' Online

Authors: Stavro Yianni

Tags: #Greek Cypriot, Supernatural Crime Thriller, Bling, Horror, Drugs, London, Revenge

Fucking junkie…
Tony thought to himself and spat on the ground in disgust.

He then began to mull it over.
If the crackhead didn’t lay into Mario, then who did? And more to the point, why?

Then, before he could come up with a logical answer, Charlie appeared out of nowhere. He was storming towards the garage, his head bowed, looking from side to side and behind him all nervous like he was being chased (or more likely
thought
he was being chased).

Christ, from one headcase to another,
Tony reflected to himself with mild annoyance. ‘What’s up, Charlie?’ he asked without much enthusiasm once Charlie was close enough to hear him.

Charlie didn’t answer straight away. He stopped in front of Tony, still looking around him in that nervy way. ‘I’ve got something to tell you, Tony,’ he then said. ‘I just can’t keep it bottled up inside me any more.’

Tony glanced down to see Charlie nursing bruised fists and the odd split knuckle. ‘How did you hurt your hands,
re
?’ he asked him.

Charlie looked down at them and shook his head. ‘It’s nothing,’ he replied.

Then things began to form in Tony’s mind; jigsaw pieces slotting together smoothly.
‘Re
, you haven’t just come the Olive Tree café, have you?’ he asked.

Charlie met his stare for a brief second, then looked up at the sky, his Adam’s apple sticking out of his neck like a shark’s fin jutting from the sea. He groaned, and for a split second, Tony thought he was going to cry.

‘Re
. What did you do?’ Tony asked in a serious voice. Charlie lowered his head and just stared up at Tony, not saying a word. ‘Charlie!’ Tony shouted. ‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘I did what I had to,’ Charlie replied and his head twitched. ‘I did what I did because I love her, Tony. I love her like my own. She’s one of us, and I can’t stand by and watch some bastard treat her like that.’

Tony grabbed the sides of his own head, Charlie’s words now unravelling the mystery in its entirety. He stared down at him with a strange mix of confusion and admiration. On the one hand, he didn’t like Charlie saying that he loved his sister (cos that was a step away from saying he wants to fuck her), he had no right. But on the other, he admired him for standing up for her against her bullies, even if it wasn’t his place to do so.

But ultimately it was foolish of Charlie to do that because it could land them both in the shit.

‘Did anyone see you?’ Tony asked, addressing that very concern. Charlie didn’t answer, but just stared down at his trainers.
‘Re
! Did
he
recognise you?’ Charlie still didn’t answer. ‘Tell me!’ Tony snapped.

‘I-I don’t know. Maybe. Yes,’ Charlie stammered and looked away like a naughty school kid sent to the headmaster to explain himself.

Tony’s eyes darted from side to side as the consequences played out in his mind. If Mario could name the person who laid into him (and exactly how much damage had Charlie done? The prick could be in intensive care right now for all they knew), then he could have Old Bill knocking on his door by this evening, and then when Maria finds out, she’ll put two and two together and get five, thinking Tony had sent Charlie to do the job. At least with the phantom he could pass it off as a random crackhead doing what random crackheads do—that he decided to take his drug rage out on Mario. He could worm his way out of that one,
but Charlie?

That was a toughie.

‘I’ll
take the hit,’ Charlie then said, and Tony locked eyes with his; he was staring back at him with sincerity. His head then twitched and he carried on speaking. ‘You took one for us, so I’ll take this one for you,’ he added.

Tony felt a frown come onto his face, and he now found himself staring at Charlie for the first time ever with something sweet and overwhelming swelling in his heart that at first he couldn’t identify because it had been so long since he felt it, but after a few seconds finally recognising it. It was love. Unadulterated brotherly love.

He reached out and grabbed Charlie by the arm.
‘Come here, man!’
he said as he pulled him into his chest and gave him a tight bear hug. ‘You’re my brother!’ Tony told him as he patted him heartily on the back. ‘My brother, you hear!’

Charlie mumbled something, which was probably just a smothered groan, but Tony just kept on hugging him, not wanting to let go. He couldn’t remember anyone offering a gesture like Charlie had just offered him, couldn’t remember anyone doing anything for him like that, and it made him feel good. Very fucking good.

He planted a sloppy kiss on the top of Charlie’s head before finally letting go of him, allowing him to breathe again. Tony then slapped him on the shoulder, almost knocking him over like he was a ten pin, Charlie’s skinny, skeletal frame like a feather in the wind compared to Tony’s might.

Tony grinned broadly at him, his whole perception of Charlie now permanently altered. ‘You done good, Charlie,’ he declared. ‘I’m proud of you.’

Charlie stared at the ground shyly.

‘And you were saying the other day that
I
always solve things with violence,’ Tony said. ‘Then you pull off shit like this.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Sometimes violence
is
the only answer, but not
always,’
he replied.

Tony laughed and pointed a finger at him. ‘Very good.’

Then the reason why Charlie was there, a more pressing concern came back into his mind. He looked sharply up at Tony with serious eyes. ‘Look, there’s something I’ve gotta tell you, Tone,’ he said.

Tony stopped laughing and looked at Charlie with a faint smile still on his face. ‘What? What is it that’s so important?’ he asked.

Charlie stared at him darkly, his face shadows, his head twitching. ‘Marco’s back,’ he said, and Tony’s face changed. One second he was smiling, but that smile swiftly transformed into a grimace, and his eyes flashed with fear. He went to speak but no words came out of his mouth, and suddenly Costa popped up in his mind.
‘Marco’s gonna kill you,’
the little shit said.

‘I-I-I’ve been seeing him everywhere. Fucking everywhere,’ Charlie continued in his intense, maniacal way. ‘He-he-he was gone for a while, but now he’s back, and that means some bad shit is gonna happen. You understand? Something fucking bad is gonna happen!’

And now Charlie was grabbing handfuls of Tony’s overalls, pulling him in towards him, their faces now inches apart. When Tony looked into those two big saucer like eyes, into those pupils that were so dilated they were like black holes
(Marco’s gonna kill you)
, a shiver juddered up his spine.

They remained that way, eyes locked, for a few seconds that felt like hours to Tony, his mind going—

‘Tony!’
Vernon called from the entrance of the garage, making both their heads spin to the side in sync. When Vernon saw them as close up to each other as they were, flinching as if they had just been caught doing something they shouldn’t, he stared at them sideways. ‘You got a call,’ he said, a cordless phone in his hand.

Tony glanced from him to Charlie, before pushing him away. Charlie went like a beach ball.

Tony cleared his throat, straightened his overalls, and headed for Vernon. ‘Fucking popular today ain’t I?’ he said as he snatched up the phone.

‘With the male population, yeah,’ Vernon replied.

‘Ain’t you got work to do?’ Tony said, cocking his thumb behind him. Vernon gave him the Nescafe shake and then went back inside.

Prick
, Tony thought to himself and put the phone up to his ear. ‘Hello?’ he answered gruffly.

‘Tony. Listen re, we’ve got a problem…’

‘Nick? What problem? What you on about?’

Charlie ran up beside him. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, his voice laced with anxiety. ‘What’s he saying?’

‘Well, if you let me listen, I might fucking hear!’ Tony said, and put the phone to his ear again.

‘It’s Nick Black, re. He’s run off with the bling.’

Tony frowned. ‘He done what?’ he bellowed.

‘Who
done
what
?’ Charlie asked, eagerly.

‘Nick’s run off with the bling,’ Tony informed him.

Charlie’s mind worked. ‘Nick XR2’s run off with the bling?’

Tony’s eyes rolled involuntarily. ‘No, you prick. Not Nick XR2. Nick Black. The Mavro. He’s run off with the jewels. Told you he was a fucking traitor!’

Charlie looked away again, his mind working.

‘Is that Charlie?’
Nick XR2 asked.

‘Yeah, Charlie’s here,’ Tony replied.

‘Good. I’m coming to pick you both up, and we’re gonna sort this out.’

‘What’s he saying?’ Charlie asked.

‘He’s gonna come and pick us up, and we’re gonna go find the Mavro.’

Charlie raised his hands in the air, exasperated. He pulled Tony’s arm down and covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand. ‘Those fucking things are cursed, Tone,’ Charlie said slowly and clearly. ‘Listen to me. They’re cursed. Let him have them! Don’t go after him, let him have them! Going after him will just cause more problems.’

Tony just stared at Charlie like he was crazy. He was talking about the gold that they went through all that shit for—potentially half a fucking mil, who knew, maybe more. He turned round to be faced with White Rose Motors and could virtually see the stink of oil, dust, rust, and petrol; could taste the bucket loads of sweat that would pour from his skin over the next God knew how many years he would have to work there. He then balanced it against the money in that bag the Mavro nicked; could taste the freedom; the lifestyle; the choices; the sun; the sea; and when it came down to such a simple choice as White Rose Motors or freedom, there was no choice.

He put the phone back up to his ear. ‘Come and get us,
re,’
he said to Nick. ‘And we’ll get our shit back off that prick.’

‘You sure you can get out of work?’
Nick asked.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make some shit up and get that prick Vernon to cover for me.’

‘Good.
See you soon,’
Nick said, and the line went dead.

Tony looked down at Charlie, whose eyes were brimming with fear. ‘What can I do,
re
?’ Tony said and shrugged. ‘It’s either I work in this gaff forever, or I take the only chance I’ve got to get out. Marco or no fucking Marco, the choice is easy.’

Charlie’s eyes grew smaller for the first time that day, and he gave Tony a philosophical nod. ‘I understand,’ he said and then sighed. ‘Well, we better find him, take the jewels back, and sort it all out from there.’

‘Ain’t nothing
to
sort out, Charlie. The Mavro’s going down for this treachery. Fucking Judas. That’s exactly what it’s like,
re
. Judas betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. Now the Mavro has betrayed us for a bag full of bling and a black
putana
!’

‘What are you gonna do to him, Tony?’ Charlie asked in a concerned voice, hoping that he didn’t already know the answer.

Tony glared back at him with dark eyes and a look so serious etched into his face it unnerved Charlie to his core. ‘He’s going down, Charlie,’ he replied coldly.

Charlie looked away, negative vibes suddenly racing through him.

Then, he suddenly remembered the words of Snow White just before they raided the tomb.
You have to keep an eye on them, Charlie…

He realised that still held true. Even now at this stage they would need him to keep a watch out for them. He failed last time, but this time he might be the difference between life and death. It was his duty.

He sighed, and then looked up at Tony and asked: ‘How long did Nick say he’s gonna be then?’

*****

Nick wasn’t long at all. In no time that infamous Ford XR2 came steaming along, and skidded to a halt outside White Rose Motors where Tony and Charlie were waiting. They jumped in straight away.

‘He’s a couple of hours ahead of us,’ Nick told them as they got in. ‘I don’t know where he’s going.’

‘How are we gonna find him?’ asked Tony, shrugging his shoulders. ‘We don’t even know where he is!’

‘He could be anywhere by now,’ Charlie added from the back seat. ‘Especially if he’s travelling by car.’

Tony nodded in agreement.

Nick glanced coolly from Tony to Charlie, back to Tony again. ‘I know exactly where the prick is,’ he told them, continuing to stare seriously at them one at a time.

After a few seconds of silence, Tony asked: ‘How?’

‘Yeah. How?’ Charlie echoed, intrigued to know.

‘Oh ye of little faith,’ Nick replied, and put his hand inside his leather jacket. He pulled out a small device from his inside pocket that resembled a mobile phone, and clicked a button on its face. A screen flashed on, reflecting blue and red in his irises. Charlie craned his neck forwards to get a better look; Tony just watched on with a confused frown on his face.

‘He’s heading towards…
Birmingham,’
Nick said, and looked up at Tony and Charlie.

‘What the fuck?’ Tony exclaimed. ‘Birmingham?’

‘What is that thing?’ Charlie asked.

Nick spun it round to face them, and they leant in closer to see what it was. On the screen was an image of a map—like an A-Z or Google Maps—where a red dot was edging along a motorway.

‘Is that dot Nick Mavro?’ Charlie asked. Nick nodded, a smug look emerging on his face. ‘I-I don’t get it,’ Charlie said, shaking his head.

‘GPS tracking device, Charlie,’ Nick informed him, that smug expression deepening.

Tony began smiling a smile that quickly developed into a wide grin.

Charlie just remained confused. ‘No,’ was all he said in reply, as if it was all he
could
say.

‘It’s pretty simple, Charlie,’ Nick told him. ‘Wherever Nick Mavro goes, this thing will track him, meaning we can follow him. It’s all done with satellites.’

Charlie’s mouth became a perfect ‘O’ and his head twitched. ‘Like a Sat Nav system,’ he stated.

‘Exactly,’ Nick confirmed, that smug look now permanently tattooed on his face.

Tony began laughing in his seat like a maniac, making the whole car bounce up and down like it had just come alive. When he eventually calmed down, he reached out and took Nick’s hand and shook it with plenty of vim. ‘You are the fucking man!’ he said in a jovial voice.

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