The Wolves of London (8 page)

‘And when I called you today,’ I said, ‘what did you think?’

‘Like I said, I knew you must be desperate. I’m part of your old life, the one you were determined never to go back to, so I’m guessing that since putting the phone down this morning you’ve been regretting calling me, dreading this meeting, wondering what it’ll lead to. You’re trying to act like you’re pleased to see me, but you’re not really. You’re scared.’

It was disconcerting, having my layers stripped away so unceremoniously.

‘You’re very astute,’ I said, ‘and I have to admit that’s a pretty accurate assessment.’ I paused, then asked, ‘
Should
I be scared?’

Benny shrugged. ‘Probably. Not of me, though.’

‘Of what then?’

‘Of whatever it is that made you pick up that phone, and of what you might have to do to put it right.’

I sighed and took a gulp of wine. ‘Like I said, my daughter’s in trouble.’ Briefly I told him what Candice had told me last night.

After I’d finished Benny was silent for a moment. He sat there, staring at me. I tipped my head back, tilting my glass towards my lips to avoid meeting his eyes.

Then, almost callously, he said, ‘So what do you expect me to do about it?’

I shrugged, trying not to appear intimidated. ‘Like I said on the phone, I’d value your advice.’

‘No,’ he said.

I blinked, taken aback. ‘Sorry?’

‘I mean no, that’s not it. That’s not what you want me to do.’

For a moment I wasn’t sure how to respond, and then tentatively I said, ‘Isn’t it?’

He looked almost disappointed. ‘At least have the courtesy to be honest with me, Alex. What you really want is for me to deal with this scrote, don’t you? You want me to make your problem go away?’

I licked my lips, which had suddenly gone dry. ‘Well… I suppose I
was
hoping you’d suggest that,’ I mumbled.

‘So what’s in it for me?’

‘I… I don’t know. I suppose I thought…’

‘That I’d do you a favour? Old times and all that?’

I shrugged again. I felt two inches tall. And despite what Benny had said, I
was
scared of him.

‘I suppose so. Look, I’m sorry, Benny. Maybe this
was
a mistake. Maybe I should never have bothered you.’

Silence fell between us again. Then Benny sighed and stood up. I thought he was going to walk away without another word, and wretched though I felt, I was grateful that I was about to be let off so lightly.

Then he said, ‘Let’s have another drink,’ and walked across to the bar. I sat there in a daze until he came back.

‘Now,’ he said, putting the drinks on the table, ‘let’s talk about this thing. And no fucking about this time. Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ I said.

‘Right then. First off, I’m not your fucking pit bull. You don’t just let me off the chain and order me to kill. Understand?’

I swallowed. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

‘All right. Now, second thing, I sympathise about your daughter, and it’s clear that this cunt needs taking down a peg or two, but this is your fight, not mine, so if you want him sorted out you’re going to have to do it yourself.’

I grimaced, thought of the conversation I’d had with Candice last night. I’d been the tough guy then, enraged and vowing I’d take control of the situation. Now I felt nineteen again, floundering and out of my depth.

‘I hear what you’re saying,’ I said, ‘but… I’m not sure I can do that. It’s… well, it’s not really my forte.’

I winced at how feeble that sounded, but Benny took it in his stride – maybe he’d even been expecting it.

Spreading his hands, he said, ‘So your only alternative, it seems to me, is to pay this fucker off.’

‘Yeah, but how? The bank won’t lend me the money, and there’s no one I can borrow it from.’

Instead of answering, Benny reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a black leather wallet with a gold clasp. As he opened it, I thought for one horrifying moment that he was going to lend me the money; I even had an image of him handing over the thousands I needed in cash, right there in the pub. If there was one thing I definitely
didn’t
want, it was to be in debt to Benny Magee. However what Benny took from his wallet was a midnight-blue business card, which he placed on the table in front of me.

I picked it up. Embossed in silver across the middle of the card was the word ‘Incognito’. In the bottom left-hand corner, in smaller letters, was an address in Soho.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

‘Gentlemen’s club run by a friend of mine.’

I looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He took a sip of his Scotch and said, ‘My friend is looking for someone smart and reliable for a one-off job. Very easy work, very good money. If you’re interested, I can make a call on your behalf right now.’

Despite the wine my mouth was dry. I had the sudden feeling that I was stepping into quicksand.

‘Am I allowed to ask what kind of work it is?’

‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you,’ Benny said, his face deadpan. He held the expression for a little longer than was comfortable, then suddenly grinned. ‘Seriously, Alex, it’s nothing too heavy. It’s the easiest twenty-five grand you’ll ever make. You’ll be able to pay off your daughter’s debts and have enough left over for a nice holiday.’

‘Twenty-five grand,’ I repeated slowly.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘You’re wondering if I’m setting you up to be the fall guy in some dodgy deal.’

‘I don’t—’ I said, but Benny held up a hand, stemming my protestations.

‘I don’t blame you. That’s how
I’d
feel. Look, why don’t you just go and talk to my friend, find out what the job entails? No strings attached, and if you decide it isn’t for you, you can walk away.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Why not? Makes no odds to me. I’m not going to lose out, so I won’t hold it against you.’

‘But won’t it put me in a compromising position, knowing things I shouldn’t?’

Benny chuckled. ‘This isn’t James Bond, Alex.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said.

Benny shrugged. ‘Up to you. Look, I’ll go for a piss, give you a couple of minutes to think about it.’

He stood up and walked away from the table. There was a part of me that wanted to stand up too and run out of the door before he came back. On the other hand I knew that if I did I’d be forever wondering what kind of opportunity I’d turned down. I couldn’t imagine the job would be legal, not for that sort of money, but on the other hand Benny was right. It would easily pay off Candice’s debts and leave me with a nice little nest egg. But could I risk everything I’d built up, my life with Kate, my career? Then again, what was my career worth compared to Candice’s safety? And it wasn’t as if I couldn’t turn the job down if I decided it was too risky, or if I was asked to do something I wasn’t comfortable with. I wasn’t a kid any more. I couldn’t be intimidated into doing something I didn’t want to do.

‘All right,’ I said to Benny when he came back. ‘Tell your friend I’ll go in for a chat. But please make it clear that that doesn’t mean I’ll take the job.’

If Benny had gone off somewhere else to make the call I might have been suspicious, but he did it right in front of me. He produced an iPhone from his pocket and tapped in a number.

‘Monroe?’ he said. ‘It’s Benny. Listen, I might have someone for that job you want doing.’ He listened a moment, then looked at me. ‘Can you get over there right away?’

My instinct was to say no, that I needed time to think, time to arrange childcare for Kate, but even as these responses popped into my mind I knew they were nothing but excuses, and that if I didn’t act immediately I’d talk myself out of grabbing for the branch that Benny had held out for me. I licked my lips, then gave a brief nod.

‘He’ll be there in an hour or so,’ Benny said. ‘His name’s Alex. But listen, Monroe, he’s just coming for a chat, okay? No obligation… What? Yeah, I’ll tell him… Right, I’ll speak to you soon. Bye.’

Benny cut the connection and put the phone back in his pocket. ‘It’s all fixed up,’ he said. ‘Knock on the door and when someone answers, ask for Monroe.’ He drained his glass and nodded at mine. ‘You’d better drink up and get going.’

I gulped at the remainder of the wine in my glass, trying not to feel flustered. This was all happening with indecent haste, and no matter how much I told myself I could walk away from it at any time, I couldn’t help feeling like an insect in the already closing jaws of a carnivorous plant. I stood up, bumping my knees on the table, and held out my hand.

‘It was good to see you again, Benny,’ I said. ‘And thanks.’

He shook my hand and looked me in the eye, his gaze as pale and fathomless as ever.

‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he said drily.

F
rom the business card that Benny had given me, I expected Incognito to be one of those exclusive little places located within a Victorian town house. I expected white pillars, stone steps, perhaps a polished brass plaque beside a glossy black door. What struck me when I arrived, though, was that the snazzy card in my hand was nothing but the equivalent of a silver-plated fish hook. No doubt management strategy was based on the hope that once potential customers had gone to the trouble of finding the chipped grey entry door tucked down a side alley off one of Soho’s less populated thoroughfares, few would turn away without at least satisfying their curiosity.

Maybe they were right, but I hesitated a long time before knocking. It wasn’t simply the appearance of the club – which was stuck between a grotty dry cleaner’s and a driving school called ‘L’ To Pay, with the dirtiest windows I’d ever seen – that put me off, but the inkling I’d had since punching in Benny’s number that morning that I was venturing into dark and dangerous territory.

More than anything, what being in prison had taught me was how precious and wonderful it is to have your freedom. That might sound trite, but it’s not until the things that you take for granted are denied you that you realise how much you relish them. Simple things like spending time with your kids, walking to the corner shop for a paper, a quiet pint in the pub on a Sunday lunchtime, watching a late-night film on the telly – was I prepared to put all of that at risk? I knew this job that Benny had lined up would be dodgy, but sitting on the tube the question I’d been asking myself was:
how
dodgy? Maybe this Monroe bloke would want me to be a getaway driver, or courier, or drug mule? Maybe he’d want me to provide an alibi for one of his mates in a court case, or add a note of respectability to a scam he was running? What would I be prepared to do to get Candice out of trouble? How far would I go? If you had asked me yesterday I might have glibly said I’d do anything to help my kids. But if it really came down to it, would I break the law? Would I be prepared to risk everything I’d striven to achieve – my position, my reputation, most crucially my life with Kate – to protect my eldest daughter?

Well, yes, I probably would, if that turned out to be the
only
way. But what would it take to convince me that that was the case? In all honesty I couldn’t believe that a chat with this friend of Benny’s would be enough at this early stage to knock me off the straight and narrow, certainly not when there were other potential avenues to explore, other possible solutions (even though I couldn’t see what they might be yet) to ponder.

Which rather begged the question: why was I here at all?

Up close I realised that Incognito’s dented, chipped door was only grey because it was plated with steel. And it wasn’t
just
dented; it looked as though a mob had gone at it with pickaxes, hammers and baseball bats. I gave a deep sigh, raised my hand, and after hesitating for a few seconds longer, finally knocked. It was dark and cold by this time, and the alleyway smelled of garbage. An oily streak that must have been a cat slipped through the shadows beside an overturned bin. Rusty light bleeding in from the street lamps beyond the alley’s entrance glinted on broken glass outside an abandoned barber’s shop whose windows were patched with sagging sheets of brown paper.

There was a grind and a clank that reminded me of my old cell door opening at slopping-out time, and then a black line appeared between door and frame.

‘Help you?’ The voice was female but smoke-roughened. It came from a face that was hardly more than a pale glimmer cratered with shadows.

‘I’m here to see Monroe,’ I said.

‘We’re not open till eight.’

‘I’m not a punter. I’ve got an appointment. I’m a friend of Benny Magee’s.’

The face hovered a moment, the eyes black pits. ‘Hang on.’ Then the door slammed in my face.

I waited so long I thought I’d been rejected on sight. I was contemplating thumbing the ‘Menu’ button on my mobile to call Benny and tell him it was a no go when the door opened again.

‘Come in,’ said the same voice as before, the woman who had spoken shuffling backwards as she hauled the door open.

I stepped into a widening wedge of light. As soon as I was inside, the door banged shut behind me. The woman peering at me suspiciously was around fifty. She was fat and red-cheeked, her black hair scraped into a tight bun. Her heavy eye make-up and dark lipstick made her face look like it had been painted on a balloon by a little kid. Her evening gown was a glittery black tent, and rings and bracelets clinked and jangled on her pudgy hands and wrists.

‘Follow me,’ she said, and swept off down the corridor, massive buttocks swaying under her black dress. The effect should have been comical, but she gave off the vibe of someone you really didn’t want to mess with. I followed her along a corridor covered floor to ceiling in red leather panels, like a padded cell or a kinky sex dungeon. At the end of the corridor was another door, this one black. The woman opened it and bustled through, making no attempt to hold it for me. I caught it as it began to swing shut and followed her out on to a balconied walkway.

We were overlooking a high-ceilinged room with a bar running the full length of the left-hand wall. A square stage in the middle of the room was surrounded on three sides by rows of empty seats. From up here the stage looked to be made of semi-transparent Perspex, and was lit from below, so that it glowed like ice. Three poles extended from the ceiling, as if pinning the stage into place. A red-haired girl in a leotard was entwined around one of the poles, going through what were presumably some of her moves for later with a bored look on her face. Apart from the glowing stage, the lighting in the room was subdued – which no doubt hid a multitude of sins.