Little Men - The E Book (14 page)

Kyla snatched the hairbrush from Stacey and ran into the toilet, locking the door behind her. Slam! had yet more footage to trail the show on the various cable channels.

The public’s view of Kyla was almost unanimous. While they sympathised with her, as it was clear some of the other housemates had ganged up on her, they still didn’t like her. She was over-the-top. She wasn’t clever enough to hide her deviousness. It was transparent. Some of the other girls had tried to make friends with her, but she had shunned them. She’d dug her own grave.

The audience of the series was largely female and they would be the ones doing the voting. They sort of understood the need to be devious and selfish on the show, but most felt Kyla had gone about it the wrong way. She alienated everyone too early on.

And they were happy to spend twelve pence on a text message to contribute to her demise. After just ten days in the house, Kyla Andretti was voted off after a majority vote of seventy-seven percent.

Chapter Eleven

Sean Philips glanced over his shoulder as the car exploded. He sprinted through the field, just pausing to make sure the Ford was completely ablaze. He was not disappointed. The flames now completely engulfed the shell of the vehicle and reached high into the air, illuminating the night sky.

Sean abandoned the vehicle at approximately 9 o'clock on Thursday morning. It had been a long and difficult night, and the new day did not bring any relief. He knew he had to destroy the car, but he couldn’t do it in the morning as it was broad daylight and there were people around. He had to wait until nightfall, but was unable to leave the drugs in the car in case it was discovered in the meantime. The only option was to find a quiet field, remove the bags and stay with them until it got dark. Then torch the car and travel on foot to find Tony’s boat.

And so Sean spent fifteen long and uncomfortable hours lying in a lonely field with a holdall full of illegal drugs, keeping vigil to the stolen Ford. Eventually, as midnight approached, he deemed it safe enough to remove some of the petrol from the vehicle’s tank and set fire to it, thus destroying any evidence that he’d ever touched it. Sean had stolen enough cars in his time to know exactly how to get rid of any traces he may have left.

Now Sean once again ran through the cold night, the long damp grass soaked his feet and legs. He felt like a fugitive carrying the heavy bag with its illicit contents. He had already seen where he was to meet the boat. It was a tiny beach in the middle of nowhere, which did have the advantage of being surrounded by many deserted fields – easy to dispose of the car. If Sean timed it right, he should reach the beach about the same time as the boat which had been sent to collect him.

It was an indescribable relief to Sean as he stared into the inky blackness to hear the outboard motor of the vessel and see its light growing bigger as it approached the desolate beach. At last he felt vaguely optimistic that he would make it home safely and evade capture.

Sean waded into the sea to meet the boat. It suddenly crossed his mind that it could be undercover police, but he had no way of checking and it was too late anyway. His fears were quickly allayed when he was pulled into the boat by the two men Tony had sent to make the pickup.

The men introduced themselves as Roger and Gary, and described themselves as ‘friends of Tony’. The men were cagey about the capacity in which they were involved with Tony’s operation, but it was fairly clear to Sean that they held similar status to himself, drug-runners. In any case, Gary and Roger had been briefed by Tony about Sean and his predicament, and they knew about the bag he was carrying.

It was a very different Sean to the one that people usually encountered as he went about his business. He was bruised and bloodied, delirious from several days of very limited sleep. His clothes were ripped and dirtied, and he was weak from lack of food and water. His usual fearsome demeanour was replaced by something rather dishevelled and pathetic. Normally he would have refused the offer of food, drink and blankets, but tonight he was desperate.

The boat moved fairly quickly through the night, although Sean could see very little through the porthole of the cabin beneath deck. He allowed himself to doze, the first time he’d been comfortable for days. Again, he knew he was vulnerable, but this time he didn’t care. He had got the drugs back for Tony. If he was ripped off now it was Tony’s fault, and he could go and fuck himself anyway after all this.

Sean awoke after a very long and deep sleep. It was broad daylight in the cabin and the sun was shining. Sean stood and lifted his head above the deck of the boat. He saw Gary at the bow, steering the vessel. Gary heard Sean get up and turned to greet him.

“Good morning!” he exclaimed cheerily.

“Mornin’,” said Sean, back to his usual prickly self.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“Er, yeah, ta.” Sean looked around. They were still on open water, but he could make out the silhouette of land on his left-hand side.

“Where are we, Gary?” Sean enquired.

“Just off the east coast of Scotland. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Sean thought for a moment that he was still asleep and dreaming.

“Scotland? What are we doing here?” The desperation and disbelief was audible as he spoke.

“You know Tony, he likes to cover his tracks. We need to land somewhere remote. He leaves his boats off the coast of Peterhead. He pays the local coastguards to keep schtum, and they keep an eye on things. They let us in and out without a problem. We couldn’t do that down south, there’s nowhere quiet enough. Peterhead Bay is perfect. You’ll see why. As long as the seagulls don’t grass us up, it’s watertight!”

Sean took a moment to digest what he was being told. He surveyed the landscape through the late morning mist. It was rocky, rugged and deserted, the perfect place to secretly bring in illegal shipments. Sean knew Tony regularly used boats for smuggling, but he’d never paid much attention to the details. He had certainly been to Scotland on several occasions to move packages around.

Sean suddenly had a greater understanding of the scale of Tony’s operation. He constantly brought drugs in through routes across the sea. He also had people shifting parcels around overland, through Europe. It made sense. If there was a problem with one method, like what had happened to Sean, it still meant there was plenty coming in from other directions to make up any shortfall. It was an efficient and streamlined way of doing business, and Sean was taking it all in, even though he was now contemplating a new problem of how to get home from Scotland.

“Why didn’t Tony say we were going to Scotland?” Sean asked Gary.

“I don’t know. I’m just doing what he told me. I would’ve thought he’d explained to you properly what’s going on.”

“No, he didn’t. I live in fucking Kent. I’ve gotta get back. I can’t be stuck up here in the middle of fucking nowhere!”

“You’d better give him a ring.”

Once again Sean angrily called Tony’s number. Tony did concede this time that he had been far too vague with the details of Sean’s escape. “Oh yeah, okay. Sorry, that was my fault, I should’ve mentioned it.”

“Bloody right you should’ve mentioned it. I’ve got to get back to Dartford!”

“It’s taken care of. There’ll be a strawberry waiting for you when the boat docks. It’ll be driven by a guy called Austin. He’ll drive you home. You’ll be home by tonight.”

Sean was too tired to protest, and he knew it was pointless. It was the only way to get home. He couldn’t risk taking a plane or a train. He would take it up with Tony at a later date.

It was nearly three o’clock on Saturday morning when Sean eventually opened his front door. He’d met Austin okay, and the first part of the journey had gone smoothly. But about an hour after they’d joined the southbound M1 they had run into heavy traffic. A serious accident had brought the motorway and surrounding roads to a standstill, the problem compounded by the extra traffic on the road heading south for the weekend.

Sean slumped on his bed, beyond furious.

Sean slept heavily. Three days of broken sleep had caught up with him. A few times he heard his phone ringing, but ignored it. He needed to rest.

At the other end, Sam was panicking. Why was Sean not picking up? He was
always
around at the weekend. That’s when he did most of his business. Sam needed to get through to explain to Sean that he didn’t have his money, but he should have it by Monday. Sam knew it was best not to have Sean Philips chase you for money, and even though it was only £100, Sam was desperate to make contact. And the fact that it was now Saturday afternoon was making him feel more than a little concerned.

He decided to go round there. It might annoy Sean, but at least he wouldn’t be able to accuse him of avoiding him. Sam would tackle the problem head-on. A horrible thought crossed Sam’s mind. Maybe Sean was on the way round to see
him.
Panic-stricken, Sam quickly got ready and set off on the short journey across town to Sean’s estate.

Sam looked for Sean’s van as he arrived in the car park. He couldn’t see it. Again, this was unusual for a weekend. Sam knew Sean did some sort of work during the week, but he had no idea as to the nature of it and indeed if it was legitimate or not. Sam knew that Sean was a major dealer to the whole area, which meant he needed to be at home pretty much all weekend.

Sam tentatively knocked on Sean’s door. Nothing. Sam knocked again. This time he heard distant banging and a man’s muffled swearing. Eventually the door opened. Sam was shocked by the sight that greeted him. It was Sean, but not as Sam had ever seen him before. Sean squinted at the bright sunlight in the manner of a man who had just awoken from a deep slumber. He was naked apart for a pair of long shorts. Cuts and open gashes were visible all over his body that had not been cleaned properly and were still caked in dry blood. Sam noticed that Sean’s knees were especially lacerated. He had bruises to his face, his squinting eyes were bloodshot. Sam immediately knew it been a mistake to disturb Sean.

“What do you fucking want?” Sean spoke slowly and groggily.

“I, er, owe you some money and, I er…” Sam felt his mouth go dry and his voice became wobbly.

“Well, hand it over and fuck off!” Sean replied curtly. It crossed Sam’s mind to just turn and run, then try to sort it out with Sean another time. He had clearly called at the worst possible moment. The money Sam owed was obviously the least of Sean’s problems. Sam’s legs wobbled in terror. He was about to annoy Sean even more.

“It’s just that I, er, don’t have it at the moment and…” Sam’s voice was very quiet, but it was suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing in the hallway behind Sean.

“Fuck! Why can’t you just leave me alone! Go in and sit down while I get that.” To Sam’s dismay, Sean gestured for him to go inside the flat and sit down while Sean took the phone call. Sam, still rigid with fear, did what he was told and entered the scruffily-decorated lounge and sat on the sofa. Sam could hear Sean’s muffled voice as he took the cordless phone into the adjacent kitchen.

“Yeah?” came Sean’s terse reply. “Yeah, I’ve got them.”

Sam felt awkward listening to Sean’s conversation. It was clearly something he had no business being party to. There was a long silence. If Sam had been in the room he would have noticed Sean’s face scowling with rage as, once again, Tony was expecting him to run around, with little regard as to what Sean had been through during the previous few days.

Sam certainly heard the anger in Sean’s voice when he spoke next.

“So you expect me to bring them to a fucking club in the middle of London. Have you any idea what I’ve been through? You take the…” Sean stopped in his tracks, an idea occurred to him. His tone of voice changed to something far more friendly.

“Actually, I’ve got someone I can send… Of course he’s reliable. Give me the details…”

As Sean finished his conversation, Sam suddenly had an overwhelming sense of foreboding. He knew whatever Sean had agreed involved him. Sean returned to the living room.

“I’ve got a job for you.” Sam looked at Sean with wide-eyed terror.

“Do this, and you can forget about the ton you owe me.” Sean’s manner and tone told Sam that he absolutely could not even try to refuse what Sean was proposing.

“My, er, colleague needs some pills bringing to him. He’ll be at a club in London. Sounds like it’s right up your alley. You can keep some for yourself. You’ll have a free night out and, as I said, I’ll forget about the money you owe me.”

“Right, erm, how many we talking about?” Sam was shaking now.

“Not that many. About two hundred. He’s going to some private party, y’see. He needs ’em for his bum-bandit mates. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just tell ‘em you’re a friend of Tony’s and they’ll let you in. Give the pills to Tony, then you’re free to do what you like. It should be a good night, Tony reckons there’ll be all celebrities there and shit like that.”

Sam didn’t hear anything after Sean said the figure. Two hundred. This was big time. Out of Sam’s league. The most he had ever bought in one go before was twenty. That was risky enough, now he was being asked, no,
told
,
to take a huge amount into a London club. They couldn’t be stashed in socks or hidden in pants. Sam tried to comprehend what was happening.

“So the bouncers will let me straight in?”

“Of course. They’ll be expecting you. You’re not a normal punter. They’ll know what you’ve got on you, so you’ll get a safe passage into the club. It couldn’t be easier.” Sean’s tone again told Sam that any sort of protest would be pointless and stupid. Sean proceeded to give Sam the details he’d received from Tony, before leaving the house then returning with a small brown padded envelope.

“Here you go. They’re all there, I’ve just counted ‘em. Good luck.”

Again, Sam detected from Sean’s abrupt tone that he should not attempt to argue or question, just simply take the package and leave. By now Sam had worked out that Tony was Sean’s boss, and relations between them were strained for some reason, but probably had something to do with why Sean was in such an unkempt state.