Howard Linskey - The Dead

‘Fair enough,’ I said, ‘then you will take the case?’

‘I will accommodate you,’ he answered, as if he was being extremely gracious. ‘For now you will have to excuse me,’ he added, ‘I am late for a meeting at my chambers. We will talk again in due course.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘you’ll need to discuss the case further with Mrs Fitch…’ but I was already talking to his back. I watched him walk from the coffee house and stride purposefully away across the quadrant.

‘Told you he was messianic,’ said Susan Fitch when he was gone.

‘And has a monstrous ego.’ I reminded her.

After the meeting with Aimes I went straight down to the prison where Henry Baxter was waiting for me. It was time for another cosy chat in the visiting room.

‘The prison chaplain loaned me a Bible,’ Baxter explained, ‘nice chap, someone you can have a conversation with. Not like everybody else in here. So, if you could place your hand on it, we can begin.’

‘I’m not remotely religious, Baxter.’

‘Humour me,’ he replied.

‘Why?’

‘Because I suspect that even an irreligious cut-throat like you might baulk at placing his hand on a Holy Bible, then swearing on the life of his infant daughter and going back on his oath. I think even you would be a little superstitious about that.’

He was right. I was. Baxter may have been a child-murdering sicko but he’d read me correctly. No way was I going to tempt fate with my little girl’s life by breaking an oath stacked against it, whether a Bible was involved or not.

‘Do you swear that you will do everything in your power to get me out of here in return for access to your money?’

I put my hand on the bible, ‘I swear.’

‘Do you further swear that, having secured my release, you will neither kill me nor order my death at the hands of anyone in your organisation, and I include contract killers in that equation obviously, or anyone else you might choose to hire.’

‘I swear.’

‘And do you also swear not to harm me nor allow anyone else in your organisation to torture or injure me in any way.’

I sighed, ‘I swear.’

‘Don’t take this lightly Blake,’ there was a flash of anger. ‘I’m not.’

‘Neither am I Baxter, believe me.’

‘And do you finally swear to release me within twenty-four hours of my acquittal, which as you know will be more than ample time to transfer the funds back to you?’

‘I swear.’

‘And do you swear all of this on the life of your infant daughter, Emma Blake?’

‘I do.’

‘Say it then.’

‘I swear all of it on the life of my infant daughter, Emma Blake.’

Baxter scrutinised me for a second, as if he feared I’d somehow fooled him, then he nodded.

‘Good,’ he concluded, ‘then we are back in business.’

I knew Joe Kinane would go loopy at the prospect of helping a nonce, and I wasn’t wrong about that, but I felt trapped by Henry Baxter’s blackmail and couldn’t see any way out of it.

‘I don’t understand!’ Kinane bellowed. ‘How are you somehow beholden to an oath you’ve made to a child killer? If he’s done this thing, and it sounds like he has, then get him off the charges, get your money back then kill the sick twat.’

‘I don’t understand either,’ admitted Palmer.

‘You’re not a father,’ I told him, and that shut him up, ‘and you are,’ I reminded Joe, ‘so let’s hear you take an oath on your sons’ lives and see how lightly you take it.’

Any further discussion was cut off by Fallon’s arrival. He’d called a meeting and I was hoping it wasn’t trouble — but that was exactly what I got.

‘Someone put one of my guys in the hospital yesterday.’

He was pacing the office floor in the Cauldron, looking like he wanted to rip somebody’s arms off. Fallon was one of those old-school Glasgow enforcers who looks like he came out of his mother’s womb fully formed, clutching an iron bar. We were allies these days, thankfully. We bankrolled Fallon in Glasgow when he took control of the city from the Gladwells and we shared responsibility for the Edinburgh drug trade jointly, taking over when there was a power vacuum after Dougie Reid was sent down for life.

‘Which guy?’ I asked.

‘Tommy Law.’

I knew Tommy, or I should say knew of him. Whoever gave him a beating must have been rock hard or mob handed, possibly both.

‘I fought the law and the law won,’ I offered, ‘but not this time.’

He didn’t look amused.

‘Was this about territory?’ I asked, because Tommy Law oversaw a good chunk of our Edinburgh operation.

‘Aye, he was warned off,’ confirmed Fallon, ‘while they were breaking both his arms and legs and smashing his jaw in.’

‘Jesus, who did it? Do we know that much at least?’ I couldn’t imagine who would have the sheer brass balls to come up to Fallon’s patch and beat the shit out of Tommy Law like that.

‘According to Tommy, they’re Eastern Europeans.’

‘Eastern Europeans? Could he not narrow it down a bit?’

‘Oh aye,’ he told me, flaring, ‘it was easy to narrow it down because Tommy speaks fluent Serbo-Croat and, from their accents alone, he could tell exactly where they were from. They’re either Russian, Polish, Czech, Serbian, Croatian, Ukrainian or Albanian. Basically, from what he was able to mumble through his broken jaw, I’m fairly certain they are from some place east of Newcastle, get my meaning?’

‘Alright, alright, I hear you,’ I replied, ‘it was a stupid question. The only thing we should really be discussing here is our response.’

‘Agreed,’ he said, ‘but I want to hang fire a wee while on that.’

I was impressed by this uncharacteristic restraint. ‘That’s unlike you Fallon.’

‘I’ve got my reasons.’

‘Which are?’

‘McGlenn’s disappeared.’

‘Oh.’

‘So has his stash and all of the money.’

McGlenn was a dealer who worked for Tommy Law, ‘and you think it’s the same guys but you’re not sure yet. You’re wondering if McGlenn is involved and put them up to it?’

‘I’ve not known McGlenn as long as my Glasgow crew. He’s an Edinburgh lad. Maybe he got greedy and stupid and flew off to Ibiza with it all. If he has then we’ll find him and deal with it separately.’

It didn’t much matter for McGlenn whether he had been killed by the Eastern Europeans, or cut a deal with them to take down Tommy Law, then done a runner with Fallon’s money. You didn’t steal from Fallon. Either way, McGlenn was a dead man. It mattered to Fallon though. He wanted to know exactly what had happened to his dealer, because he was wondering if we were already in an all-out war. Me? I couldn’t believe it. Things had been quiet for so long and now, all of a sudden, everything was erupting around me.

‘Keep me informed.’ I said. I needed Fallon to handle this one on his own. I had enough shit to juggle.

‘Of course.’

While Fallon was briefing me, Palmer had walked away to the window, his lack of attention irritating me.

‘What is it Palmer?’

‘It might be nothing,’ he said it so quietly I could barely hear him, ‘just a guy I’ve seen a couple of times now. He walked by the Mitre the other day when we were coming out and he went past here too as we were walking in.’

‘Can you remember everyone who walks by one of our places?’ This seemed barely credible.

‘Not everyone,’ he admitted, ‘but I remembered this one.’ His tone made me take him seriously.

‘What was he like?’

‘Tall, stocky, middle-aged, dark brown hair, dressed in one of those old green Army jackets that were popular years ago.’