he would never have made a potentially controversial move without discussing it with his number two first. It would have been difficult for any of them to tackle Wild Bill on his own, but to tackle him and Lennie Trueman together would be suicide.
Billy Boy is riding his luck, McCracken thought.
But perhaps, on further consideration, Trueman, a cooler head who saw the bigger picture quickly, had decided that the very least they could do in these trying circumstances was put business before pleasure. So, though he remained taut, he awaited his Chairman’s response politely.
‘Of course,’ Pentecost said, walking again. ‘We’re all equals in here.’ He paused at the other end of the table. ‘Any objectors raise their right hands.’
He swept them with his gaze as they each struggled with the matter.
One by one, with many a truculent stare directed downward, they folded their hands on the table in front of them, until it was unanimous.
‘I think the motion is carried,’ Pentecost said. ‘Which concludes our business for today.’
The meeting didn’t break up as amicably as usual.
The Chairman saw them out in his usual fashion, accompanying them into the penthouse lobby, where Benny B and his men restored their guns to them.
Pentecost spoke fake fond words as they departed. But when he went back into the boardroom, he found that they hadn’t all left. Frank McCracken stood by the main window, taking in its panoramic view of the city.
‘Still here, Frank?’ Pentecost approached. ‘I thought after that pep talk, we’d all consider we had rather a lot of business to attend to.’
‘Just wondering if I could have a little private chat?’ McCracken replied. ‘For old times’ sake, if nothing else.’
Pentecost mulled it over. ‘Suppose I can spare a minute for one of my oldest muckers.’
‘If a minute’s all I’ve got, I’ll get straight to it,’ McCracken said. ‘I wonder if you’d consider reversing that decision about slashing the skim?’
Pentecost looked sad. ‘How disappointingly predictable of you.’
‘Bill, come on …’ McCracken allowed a conspiratorial note to creep into his voice. ‘Look, these guys are on your side. Since you put the Crew together, they’ve never made as much dosh. Okay, they have to pay three quarters of it into central funds, but they’re well rewarded for that, plus they recognise it’s working. That’s why they’re happy to go along with it.’
‘Go along with it, Frank? You make it sound like they have a choice.’
‘Bill, you put this outfit together on the understanding everyone would have a certain degree of autonomy. We all sit at the same boardroom table, we all have the same ambition, but it’s always been the case that each one of these guys is a gaffer in his own right, too.’
Pentecost affected a puzzled expression. ‘Are you lecturing me about something I invented?’
‘What I’m trying to say is they’re loyal. But that we can’t take that loyalty for granted.’
Pentecost headed for the door in the frosted glass wall partitioning the boardroom from his own office. He went through, leaving the door open for McCracken to follow.
The Chairman’s office, or the Head Office as it was usually referred to, wasn’t used a great deal, hence it existed in a permanent near-pristine state, its blocks of shelving lined with books, mostly legal and business tomes (which, from time to time, Pentecost actually read), but everything else hinting more at luxury: it had a plush carpet, expensive artwork on its wood-panelled walls, a seventy-inch hi-def television, a row of carved Italian chairs and, in the very centre, dominating everything, a huge, leather-topped desk with a neat stack of phoney paperwork at one end and a desktop computer at the other.
Pentecost strode to the drinks cabinet in the corner, where he filled two large tumblers with ice cubes and poured malt whisky from a crystal decanter.
‘You know what I’m talking about, Bill,’ McCracken said from the doorway. ‘Lennie could close the entire Port of Liverpool to us. So how would Terry Underwood bring in his knock-off Italian dresses and shoes? You think the Camorra would be happy to put business on hold for as long as it takes us to buy another port? What about the Triads when it comes to knock-off tech from China? Aside from that, we get a cut of everything that comes through the docks. The merchants are happy to pay, the shipping lines are happy to pay – anything for a smooth operation. And when we don’t get it, we steal it. What happens if all that dries up? And how would it impact on the narcotraffic? Toni would need to find a completely new way to import his product. Most likely, he’d go off and do his own thing. That’d be half our most lucrative operations down the toilet at the same time. Plus, if Lennie and Toni walk, it’ll cost us the streets … we’ll lose our eyes, our ears, our noses. Meanwhile, Nicky and his vice girls are worth ten million to us each year alone. What if that cashflow dries up too?’
‘And when will all this happen, do you think?’ The Chairman offered McCracken his drink.
‘I’m not saying it will.’ McCracken took the glass. ‘I’ve not heard a sniff of rebel talk. But it could happen. That’s just common sense, isn’t it? And look, Bill … I wouldn’t be saying all this if me and you didn’t go right back. You’ve got my firm promise, my solemn guarantee that whatever happens, I’ll stand with you. You know you can always rely on me. But if it was two of us against the rest …’
Pentecost regarded him coolly. ‘You seriously think I haven’t considered this possibility, Frank? You think I haven’t got contingency plans?’
On reflection, McCracken didn’t think that for one minute, and had a fairly good idea what any such plans would entail. Bill Pentecost was nothing if not a forward thinker, especially where supporters whose loyalty might be suspect were concerned. For all the Crew’s underbosses knew, any one of them could be sleeping in a house that might, at the touch of a match, become an escape-proof crematorium, or driving cars that could blow themselves to smithereens at the flick of a switch.
‘We just don’t want a civil war,’ McCracken said, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. ‘Not with everything else that’s happening. Let the lads keep the skim. It helps them to pay their soldiers and runners in cash. And it gives them a bit extra to play with.’
‘I think that’s the real issue, don’t you, Frank?’ The Chairman sipped his malt. ‘A bit of personal belt-tightening never goes down well.’
‘Why should they do that? They’ve earned these extras.’
‘They’ll be earning nothing if these foreign nuisances continue to encroach on our territory.’
‘I’m not pretending that isn’t an issue, Bill. But why take it out on the lads?’
‘Because the lads, as you call them, are not pulling their weight.’
McCracken pointed at the window. ‘The enemy’s out there, not in here.’
‘The enemy won’t meet us in open battle. Instead, he strikes us here, there, everywhere … whenever we aren’t looking. But we need to be looking, Frank.
