head.
He’d often joked about doing away with Edith to his mates, but could he really do it? Really get rid of her once and for all? Of course he’d killed loads of people and had had loads of people killed, it wasn’t the actual practicality of killing that bothered him. Once you’d done it once then the other times were never a big deal, not even when they begged and cried, wetting themselves like a baby. Business was business.
No, with Edith it was different. It was more about sweeping away any last bits of loyalty he still had for her. But it would be the solution. He could be with Bunny properly. More to the point, Bunny would give up work and he could get back to form, properly concentrate on the big deals he had coming up with the Russians. Not worry about Edith opening her big trap. He could feel like he was number one again.
Just as quickly as the idea began to form, it petered away again. He shook his head to himself. What the fuck was he thinking? Of course he couldn’t do it. Though it was a nice thought.
Turning his head at a sound, Del saw Milo walk into the empty club. He was tall and skinny with blonde, almost white hair, which looked startling against his dark brown eyes and olive skin.
Del nodded, raising his hand, but his mind was far from the business he had to attend to, it was on Edith – or rather, the disposal of her.
‘Del. My friend. I’m sorry I’m late. You know how things are. Have you been sitting here long?’ Milo Burkov spread his arms, embracing Del. His thick Russian accent cut mockingly through the air.
‘No, not really. I got here late. Only just arrived myself.’
Milo slapped Del on the back and laughed, fully aware, thanks to his informant sitting in the far corner of the club, that Del had been waiting for him for almost forty minutes.
‘Well, I’m pleased to hear it. I couldn’t have you waiting for a Russian peasant like me.’
Trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, Del spoke. ‘Can I get you a drink? Vodka perhaps?’
Milo grinned again. ‘Ah, the English stereotyping of the Russians. I’m good. I like to keep a clear head when I do business.’
As Milo pulled up a chair, Del began to talk.
‘Let’s get straight to it then. There’s been problems with your girls. They’ve been chasing some of the regular Toms away. People aren’t happy with it. There’s been a lot of unrest.’
Milo shrugged his shoulders. ‘And what would you like me to do about it? You know what women are like. Very territorial. I can’t control what the girls do.’
Del leaned in. ‘Bullshit Milo, you run those girls with an iron bar. We both know that. Don’t play games. I let you come onto this patch as a favour for supplying the powder, not to let your girls crawl all over the place like fucking cockroaches.’
‘I don’t think your memory’s serving you so well these days, my friend. You need to get your nose out of the pussy, too much can be bad for the old grey cells.’ Milo winked at Del who gritted his teeth, listening to what else Milo had to say. ‘The way I remember it, you didn’t have a choice.’
Del bit his lip. ‘You know that ain’t fucking true. I saw a good deal and decided to run with it. I cut Teddy Davies out of the picture so we could do business directly and now you’re mugging me off with the girls. Taking the piss. You need to back off Milo, or the powder deal’s off. I’ll find another supplier for both here and the Costa.’
Milo Burkov’s face scrunched up into a sneer. ‘Both you and I know there’s no backing out. The shipment’s already underway. Don’t bring trouble on yourself, Del, not for a few whores.’
‘Then don’t fucking play me for a mug mate. Get your girls to back off and there won’t be any problem.’
Milo shrugged his shoulders. ‘You need to relax. The girls are small fry; they’re not worth worrying about. But if it makes you happy, I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Don’t see. Just do it.’
Milo clicked his fingers, gesturing the barman to come over. ‘Fine. It’s not good for women to come between us, especially when they’re only whores. How is Bunny by the way?’
It was all too much for Del; he sprang up from his chair, knocking the barman who was standing nervously beside Milo out of the way. He bellowed, feeling the vein in his neck pulsate.
‘Don’t push it, Milo. If you don’t want to bang me up the wrong way, some things are well and truly off limits and Bunny is one of them.’
From the far corner Milo’s sidekick came running up. It was Del’s cue. From the inside of his jacket he quickly pulled out a knuckleduster, aiming it at the sidekick. It struck the man’s face – drawing blood immediately – and, as it did so, Del twisted it around, grinding the man’s eye almost out of its socket. Blood oozed from his face as he screamed, falling onto the floor in agony. Bringing back his boot, Del kicked the man hard in the ribs to finish him off.
Out of breath, Del turned to Milo, expecting more trouble. Without reacting, Milo spoke to the barman, his voice soft and even. ‘A double scotch and the same again for my friend.’ Turning back to Del, Milo gestured his hand to the man groaning on the floor, and smiled. ‘Forgive my men. As you see they’re very loyal and sometimes a little, how shall I say it? … A little too enthusiastic for their own good.’ With that, Milo kicked at the bloodied man who staggered up, stumbling and holding onto his face in an attempt to stop the blood flow.
Del watched Milo carefully as he signalled for him to sit back down. He was a cool character, he’d give him that much. Always playing his cards close to his chest. Milo was a nasty piece of work. He’d seen him in action. Cold, ruthless and calculating but he chose his fights carefully. And unlike Del, Milo was clearly able to think first and react afterwards.
He wasn’t sure if he could trust Milo, but that was the nature of the business they were both in. Always looking behind your back. Always trying to be one step ahead. And he’d rather deal with Milo than with Teddy.
Teddy had got greedy – both for money and in his liking for powder. He seemed to be on the edge, which made Del very nervous. The man was a loose cannon and in the business they were in you couldn’t afford to be one, or for that matter to be around one. Not if you valued your life.
Del knew he had to distance himself from Teddy if he wanted to stay on top. The man had been all right at first. Another bent copper looking for his cut of things, and Del, like some of his associates, had been happy to pay him his due to keep the law off his back and run out any toerags who thought they could come on the turf.
It’d made his life easier. One less thing to worry about, but that had been then. Del didn’t need the likes of Teddy now. He was too big for that. He had his own men watching his back. And so great was his reputation around the country, even his enemies weren’t fool enough to try and take him on.
The main problem was that, somewhere along the line, Teddy had decided he wanted to be bigger than him. It was clear the man had become dissatisfied with the wad of money, drugs and girls that had been placed freely in his hand each week by Del and the other faces and dealers of Soho. He’d wanted more and now he was going to get nothing. Greed would be Teddy’s downfall and Del for one wasn’t prepared to go down with him.
Putting
