Zodiac's toy, John Jones [nonfiction book recommendations .txt] 📗

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"Hang on," said Shane, "what if they go in Lee's flat? They might find his weapons and money and all that. 'Cos they'll tell the police won't they?"

"Yes, but why would they go in there? It's Victor they're coming for".

"But don't sometimes the police come with ambulances?" Ray looked slightly concerned.

"Er, I don't know. Possibly. Anyway, it's too late, I can hear sirens".

 

The Ferrari 360 Modena gleamed bright red, parked outside an office-block sandwiched between shops. The block held various businesses, and at the top of the five-storey glass eyesore, there was one small office for Keith Matthews, mortgage advisor.

"Beats me why people like this borrow money," said Lee. He was standing with Blotto on the other side of the road, who had parked the van around the corner because he didn't want Keith to know it belonged to him. It was just a white van parked up. Could be anyones. He was intending to drive the Ferrari back to Gary, but first he had to get the keys.

"So you're not going to just smash the window and hotwire it and drive off?" Lee asked.

"Fuck Lee," said Blotto, "how long were you inside for? I'm not scratching that. If it doesn't get claimed back I might have to try and persuade Gary if I can use it. Anyway, come on". They crossed the road and entered the building and took the lift to the fifth floor. They soon found the office with a make-shift sign in the window: ' Keith Matthews - mortgage advisor'. Blotto knocked hard on the door.

A few minutes later, him and Lee both had their arms folded, utilising their patience which was fairly shallow, Keith placing a flame beneath it as it burned away.

It was a fairly small office, probably the cheapest place to rent in the whole block, but the windows were large and sunlight slanted through them into the bland office with its coffee-stained carpet and sparse furnishings.

Keith looked like a banker, or a doctor, or somebody you could call a businessman. Somebody for whom their whole life revolved around their job. They seemed lost and alone when stepped outside of their work, and couldn't wait to step back in again. He was short and squat, probably early sixties but looked older, work taking its toll on him. White shirt black trousers, tufts of grey hair above his ears with a bald head that was slowly becoming more shiny as perspiration gathered as happened when his pulse quickened and his fear came out in the form of anger. His face was flushed red. He was pointing angrily at Blotto.

"...and can't Gary get it into his stupid head? I'll pay up. He knows I will. He doesn't need to send around his mindless thugs to remind me. Tell him he'll get his money".

"How many times have I heard that before? I'll pay I'll pay I'll pay," said Blotto. "Some people have poor memories though, and forget they have debts. We're just here for your car. If you want it back you'll have to pay what you owe. If not, it ours and that's all there is to it".

"Why would you want to borrow money anyway?" asked Lee. "Surely people like you are rich as fuck".

"Why spend your own when you can spend other people's?" put in Blotto. "It's cash in hand. No questions asked".

"Bloody right it's no questions asked," said Keith, "It's none of your business what I spend it on. Gary doesn't ask. He doesn't care, so I'm certainly not going to tell his thugs. Tell him he'll have his money soon".

"What the fuck is 'soon'?" asked Blotto. "Soon could next month for all I know".

"Just give us the keys to the car and we'll be out of here," said Lee.

"That's my company car, you can't have that".

"Better hurry up and pay what's owed," said Blotto, "The sooner you pay up, the sooner you can have it back. In fact I'd rather you didn't pay because I want it". He turned and stepped over to the coat hanging up behind the door. He started going through the pockets.

"Are the keys in here?" Keith stood up and angrily stormed across to stop Blotto.

"Stop tha..." but Blotto turned and shoved Keith back against the wall.

"Give me those fucking keys. I'm not leaving without them. I'll tear this place apart, then I'll start on you".

"Look I need tha..!"

"How much does it look like we care?" put in Lee. "Give us the keys and we'll fuck off". Blotto gripped Keith's throat and started to squeeze.

"Keys".

"O...kay". Blotto let him go, and Keith rummaged in his coat for the keys and then opened the door and threw them into the corridor like a child in a tantrum. Blotto just smiled and shook his head.

"Like I said. Pay what you owe. It's fucking simple. It's business. You should know that".

"Get out! pair of bloody thugs". Blotto shrugged and him and Lee left, the door slamming an inch behind Lee.

A few minutes later, Blotto was inserting the key into the ignition and revving the engine. He smiled. Lee sat next to him admiring the interior.

"Think I hope he doesn't pay up as well," he said. They pulled away from the kerb and were soon at red lights.

"What do you think he wants a grand for?" Lee asked.

"Rich businessman who could probably afford several cars like this, doesn't want suspicious activity in his bank, so comes to us for cash in hand. It's probably for some kinky shit. Escorts or something. He's probably one of those gimps that likes dressing up in rubber and locking himself in cages then getting humiliated. Spat at and slapped. That kind of thing".

"People pay money for that?" Blotto nodded.

"I've just spent two years locked up and it did fuck-all for me". Blotto smiled. The lights turned green.

 

For the first time in years, Lee felt something he had not known for a long time. Apprehension, or slight fear. Even the post-office job after two years created less anxiety. At least he knew where he was with that. As for talking to a member of the opposite sex, well that was where you tread into the unknown. Especially if that person was a stranger.

When Lee had returned, he had decided to get the others to go to the pub, but then the thought of ringing Sandie and asking her instead was of more appeal. He could only but try, and stood in the kitchen of his flat with the number Ray had given him, phone in hand.

He tapped out the number and pressed the green call button. Only to be greeted with a computerised voice:

'Sorry this number is not recognised...sorry this number is not recognised...sorry thi', Lee cut the call and felt that fear turn to frustration.

Fucking Ray, he thought, giving me a false number. He felt like marching into Ray's and confronting him, which he intended to do, but his frustration subsided slightly. He went into his bedroom and lifted the mattress and retrieved the shotgun. He went to leave, but then remembered there were still bullets in it.

Nearly would have took Ray's head off, he thought, emptying the chambers. He walked out and found Ray and Shane watching television in Shane's flat. He strode in and pressed the gun against Ray's head.

"Lee what the fuck..?" shouted Ray. Shane jumped up quickly and backed away.

"You gave me a false number for Sandie you cunt," He pulled the trigger, then laughed.

"I don't think any brains would have come out then. Your head will just be fucking empty. What the fuck Ray..?"

"She's got a boyfriend, she's got a boyfriend. Caroline said she's got a boyfriend".

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I forgot okay. I forgot, my head was all over the place". Lee smiled.

"Was it? well, don't let it fucking happen again" he said, and Ray knew he meant it.

"Victor's in hospital," Shane put in.

"What for?"

"He felt sick and he was trying to get that crab off his chest. He was bleeding and everything. So we called an ambulance".

"An ambulance? You brought fucking paramedics in here. So close to my gear. Couldn't you all have walked there?"

"No, he'd collapsed and..."

"You could have carried him. The hospitals only down the road. Or got a taxi. Honestly, why do I put up with you fuckwits?"

"They're keeping him in for tests," said Ray.

"What, like exams and that. He'll be fine. He's a fucking trooper is Vic. Come on then, you comin?"

"What, to see him?"

"No, down the boozer". Shane and Ray both looked at each other and nodded. Lee put his shotgun back and they all left for their local.

Chapter 21

 

"I mentioned Blackpool but he just pulled a face," said Sandie on the phone to Caroline, taking a break from her part-time work in Caldway Equestrian Centre where they would organise horse-rides around the fields and pathways on the outskirts of the town.

"I think I'm inclined to agree with him there. I want something quieter. Blackpool would be hectic". They had not yet finalised the hen-night. All suggested ideas, and Caroline, although had final choice, had yet to pick one. She was tempted by Leanne's idea of strippers, but then that would be a night akin to one in Blackpool, and if they were going to do that then they might as well go there.

Maybe one stripper, she thought, who didn't go all the way.

"What about strippers?" Sandie said.

"That's a possibility. Maybe one. I can't organise my own though," she thought. "It's like buying your own birthday cake".

"Well somebody will have to arrange it," Sandie said, "What about a silent disco?"

"What on earth's that?"

"We go on some sort of tour around the town with headphones dancing to music, so I believe".

"Could be, er, fun," said Caroline. "Not sure Declan would approve. What's his idea of fun? A picnic in the park, or would that be too much for him?"

"Honestly," said Sandie, "he gets worse. I don't know what happened to the man I fell in love with all those years ago. He could bore for England. Last night I fancied a bit of nookie, but all he wanted to do was watch golf. I grabbed the remote and turned it off and threw the covers back and he was flaccid. I mean he always is. The last time we had sex was last week, and even then he was knackered. He's quickly turning into an old man..."

"Hang on Sandie, my work phone is going, and I can hear voices outside my office. I can't be caught taking personal phonecalls. I'll ring you tonight". Sandie nodded.

"Ok, bye," Two brown cob horses trotted past with riders all geared up. Sandie recognised one of them but not the other. She nodded in acknowledgement and made her way back to the stable.

It was half tempting to carry on straight out, get a taxi, head for the airport, get on the next flight to somewhere sunny, where she could dance to her heart's content, meet a handsome man who will make her feel like a diamond princess, and enjoy the good times she had missed out on during her teenage years and twenties, where hedonistic behaviour is a kind of rite of passage. It's the thing to be seen doing at that age. Although downing shot after shot and dancing till all hours and throwing up in a swimming pool wasn't her idea of fun, it was nonetheless, fun if you cut out the excess drinking, the fighting, the feeling sick. Instead focus on the music, the moderate drinking. Having a good time with good friends. 'That' was her idea of fun. Not sitting in night after night with her boyfriend of twelve years Declan, to whom she had born one child, Toby.

Declan was content with his job at a bank as a customer service advisor. It was practically all he had known since leaving college. He went from there to work experience in a charity shop before finding work in the bank, and he knew he had found