Gordon Brown - 59 Minutes

‘But you were my number two in Glasgow. I called you down to London and you came.’

‘Like a lapdog. I might have hated your guts but the money was bloody good. When you said to go south, I knew I could swing it to my advantage. It was easy. You were losing it. You were starting to believe in your own hype — all that Riko crap. People were laughing at you behind your back. It was the easiest thing on the planet to convince everyone that you were becoming a liability. Once you took over the whole gaff you went off the deep end and people started to talk seriously about moving you on. The old man might have been a bastard but he was fair. You were acting like a tit.’

‘So who was Dupree?’

‘An out of work actor who owed me thirty grand and had a drug habit to support. Good wasn’t he? Me and Spencer simply sat in the background and pulled the strings.’

My head was getting sore with this.

‘Spencer as well? Shit. So why didn’t you just off me and have done with it?’

He began to pace the room.

‘I wasn’t going to let you off that easy. No fucking way. I wanted to see you suffer. I so wanted to see you suffer. And I also wanted what you had. So when you pulled me down to London after topping the old man, Spencer and I went into overdrive. We set you up like a turkey at Christmas. You played along like a gem. You went nuts over the Dupree stuff. You became obsessed. We couldn’t have dreamed you’d be so stupid. All we had to do was dump anything that had our name on it and then hand over everything else to the police.’

‘You told me that you had no choice in the witness box.’

‘I didn’t. I needed to do it to make sure you went down. By then you were so hated that I thought someone might take you out. Prison saved you. I had a few guys on the inside watch your back for the first few years.’

‘Look after me? I took a kicking every second day at the start.’

‘And you would have been on the morgue slab after a week if my guys hadn’t stepped in.’

‘Fourteen years Martin. Fourteen fucking years.’

‘Not long enough. If it was down to me you would have rotted in there.’

‘What happened with Spencer?’

‘Got greedy so I sent him home. He really did die in a car crash near Oban.’

I tried to stay in front of it all, but my head was boiling up a stormer of a headache.

‘What the hell was all that Stevie, the key and Spain stuff. What in the fuck was all that about?’

He sat back down again and took a sip of whisky.

‘I couldn’t resist. You made it so easy. When I knew you were getting out I sent in Rachel with the letter. I thought you were getting out sooner than you did but I got it wrong. It didn’t matter — you were like a rat down a drainpipe once you started on the trail. I laid down the breadcrumbs and like a bird you followed along.’

‘The code, the safety deposit boxes. What about Mallorca Security?’

‘Mallorca Security is part owned by me and Ryder. It was easy to set it all up. Maria was in on it from the outset.’

‘You’re wrong. If she was then why did she hit the alarm and save me from your goons?’

‘Stupid cow panicked. It was meant to end there and then. I’d had enough fun and wanted you back home. I thought the whole photo and code thing a laugh but enough was enough, and people were beginning to look at me in the same way they looked at you when you obsessed on Dupree. At least I recognised the signs of obsession. It was more than you did with Dupree. By the way you did well getting out of Mallorca. How did you do it?’

I ignored him.

‘Charlie Wiggs?’

‘Charlie owes me big time. I’ve kept him on as my accountant since our days. He’s into me for an arm and a leg and it wasn’t hard for me to get him to play along. ‘

‘Charlie’s friend in Mallorca?’

‘Ryder’s son or rather his stepson. How else do you think he would have got a copy of the blueprints so easily?’

‘So why let me get this close to you?’

‘I had no choice. You slipped my guys in Spain. You did it again at my house. I was in London trying to sort out the mess in Mallorca at the time. I still thought you were on the island. When you didn’t turn up on the return flight I figured you must have got home somehow so I sent some muscle to my house with orders to pick you up if you were there. You did well. Very well. But I knew you wanted to front up to Dupree. So I waited for you to reappear and reappear you did. I had lost you right up until you phoned Giles.’

‘He is in it as well?’

My voice rose a shade.

‘Of course. Once you skipped on us at Rachel’s house I figured you would come after Dupree so I put the word out to all the old gang that there was cash in it for anyone that let me know where you were. When Giles phoned I set up our little meeting. You know that all you had to do was press the downstairs buzzer. The cloak and dagger stuff was a little OTT.’

I had a million other questions.

‘So everything — prison, the warnings, Mallorca — the whole fucking lot was for your amusement?’

His grin was back big style.

‘Absolutely. And tonight is the money shot. I needed to see your face when you realised who had been behind it all. This is my special moment.’

A silence blew into the room and he downed the last of the whisky in his glass. His grin vanished and I could see his eyes glaze over.

‘But somehow it’s all a bit hollow. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this. I thought I would feel vindicated but I don’t. I feel, well sort of empty.’

His grin had been replaced with a small grimace and a weary look crossed his face.

‘This feels all wrong.’

Damn right it felt wrong. I stood up fast and was half way across the table when the door burst open and I was grabbed mid air before being thrown to the floor.

‘All wrong,’ he said. ‘All wrong.’

He walked up to me as the attacker picked me up and slammed me back into the chair.

‘Did Giles tell you his stupid Sainsbury’s story. The one to do with the Chelsea/Millwall game? Did he?’

I said nothing and the attacker wrapped his arm around my throat.

‘He’s told me it on more than one occasion. I always thought it a bit of a crap tale. I mean what is it supposed to mean, but you know what? I think I might know what that face looking out the window was thinking. I think that face belonged to someone that knew exactly what was going on but chose to stay in the safety of the hostel. He wasn’t a little innocent. That face had been, seen, done and bought the t-shirt and knew he was in the right place that night. Well you’re in the wrong place. I’m sorry old friend that it has to end like this. I need to get on with life and that’s not going to happen with you around.’

I tried to say something but the attacker flipped me from the chair and suddenly my mouth was full of carpet. Martin bent down.

‘If you wanted Dupree this badly then you’ll want me with sugar on. I can’t have that. So I’ll say my goodbyes.’

The bastard kissed the tips of his fingers, reached down and patted me on the head. I looked up and saw the smile leave his face.

‘So different. It should have all been so different.’

I struggled to get up but my attacker and the man from the Spanish photo were good for the game and I was pinned to the floor. The first fist caught me behind the ear — the knuckleduster slicing open my skull. Snap, crackle and pop and the second fist mashed my nose to mince.

Just the beginning. I tried to curl into a ball. Just the beginning.

The door to the room closed as the bastard left and it was time for more pain. The attacker reached between my legs and grabbed at my balls. The squeeze was so hard it felt like one of them burst. A thumb searched for my left eye socket and a forefinger for my right — fluid spurted and darkness fell.