the area. She hated this sort of crap. Marcus, on the other hand, was good at this. Maybe she could get him to have a word with Listerhills’ answer to Titanic. She scowled, wishing she’d opted for a simile that didn’t involve the male lead losing his life. Mind you, Michelle’s analogy to Romeo and Juliet was no more promising.
Using every reserve of patience she had, and channelling a little of her memory of the feelings she’d once had for her deceased husband, Nikki smiled. When the girl took a step closer to Haqib and grabbed his arm, angling herself slightly behind him, Nikki realized her ‘smile’ was less reassuring than she’d hoped. ‘Look. I can’t be all warm and fuzzy about this. Your brother is a racist scumbag.’ Oops, should’ve toned that down a little. But when Nikki looked at Michelle, the girl was nodding, a slight smile on her face.
‘He is, Adam’s a racist. He’s a thug. But … I’m not. I don’t mind Pakis. Anyway, Haqib’s not pure Paki. He’s a half-caste.’ The girl’s smile widened as if she was expecting a pat on the back for her enlightened views.
Flinching at the ‘P’ word that had so glibly dropped from Chelle’s mouth, followed as quickly by the equally offensive ‘half-caste’, Nikki was amazed that her nephew didn’t even seem to register it. ‘Eh. I think you mean Pakistani, not Paki and we don’t use half-caste either. It’s a racist term. Mixed race or dual heritage are better.’
Chelle wafted her hand in a ‘whatever’ gesture and continued. ‘Anyway, what I’m saying is, my brother in’t here any more, so Haqib and I can be together properly.’
Haqib blushed again and Nikki decided not to wonder what ‘properly’ entailed for the two kids but she made a mental note to ask Marcus to get in a supply of condoms and do the ‘dad’ chat with Haqib. She was more concerned with wondering where Adam Glass was going and for how long. She liked to keep an eye on idiots like Glass and it was always useful to know where they were. As for the racist crap – she’d have a word with Haqib later about appropriate use of language and not falling into the ‘you’re not like the others’ trap that white racists often used to justify their own prejudice. ‘Heading off somewhere, is he? Your brother?’
Haqib stepped forward, fingers linked through his girlfriend’s, tone eager. ‘He’s been demoted like. No longer head honcho of Albion First.’
Eyes narrowed, Nikki studied Haqib. Why wasn’t this common knowledge? Why hadn’t her snitches told her this? This was big, with widespread implications for Bradford and beyond. ‘You sure?’
It was Michelle who answered. ‘They came for him in the middle of the night two nights ago, dragged him from his bed. Me and my mum were bricking it, but they just told us to keep schtum. She won’t say it, but Mum’s as glad as I am to see the back of him. Couldn’t stand the idiots he brought round to the house. Hated them.’
‘Who came for him?’
‘Albion First. They all had masks on, but who else could it be? They said summat about laundry and that if he didn’t spill the codes, he’d be a goner.’
Laundry … Could that be laundering? Was Glass laundering money? She hadn’t had him down for that and Joe Drummond, her eyes and ears in vice, hadn’t alerted her to that either. Maybe he was doing it for someone further up the chain? Albion First had little cells all over the region and they were being funded somehow. Perhaps Glass was doing more than just being a henchman. Possibly he was involved in ensuring their economic viability. If she was heading up an extreme right-wing party, she’d use someone like him as her patsy. ‘And you’ve not seen him since then?’
‘Nope, but he texted. Said he had to leave the country.’
‘Why would his own thugs come and take him away? That doesn’t make sense.’ Nikki was talking more to herself than the two kids, but Haqib answered like he thought she was losing it.
‘Duh, because he was double dealing, everyone knew that. On the one hand he’s heading up that Albion First shit and on the other he’s cutting deals with that new guy from Wakefield that’s taken over from Franco. Word is he’s into some bad stuff, but nobody knows his name.’
This was all news to Nikki and she didn’t like it. She always kept her finger on the pulse of Bradford and on her estate in particular. The fact that this had escaped her notice vexed her. Had Drummond kept her out of the loop? Surely not. They’d done favours for each other for years now and he’d always kept her informed. Well, she’d soon find out. She turned to love’s young dreamers, trying to ignore the fact that they had their tongues down each other’s throats and coughed loudly. When she had their attention, she tried out a friendly grin. ‘You two need to skip off home, right now. Listerhills isn’t safe till we suss out what’s going on.’ Nikki took out her mobile and as the kids sidled away in opposite directions, she phoned Joe.
The phone rang for ages, before it was answered by an annoyed voice, ‘Yeah, Parekh. Bad timing, as per usual.’
Nikki could hear the sounds of a disgruntled female voice complaining in the background and choosing to ignore Joe’s words, jumped straight in. ‘Did you know about this mysterious guy from Wakefield?’
The silence on the end of the phone told her all she needed to know. ‘You bastard. You knew there was someone new on my streets and you didn’t tell me?’
The unmistakable sounds of someone getting out of bed reached Nikki’s ears. ‘Look love, all we know is this boss is well under the radar. Seems like the fucker wears a damn invisibility cloak. We’ve no idea if he’s from Wakefield. None of our snitches are spilling, we’ve got reports of human-trafficking, rumours of huge weapons stashes, lorry loads of heroin dispersing throughout the district.
‘What about Glass – where does he fit in?’
‘Glass?’ Joe sounded surprised, so Nikki continued.
‘Word is he was picked up from his house and has gone AWOL.’
‘Shit! Glass has been picked up from his house? Things are unstable in Bradford … really unstable and we can’t seem to get a handle on it. Thanks for passing on your intel. It’s useful, but you need to focus on that Springer case, yeah?’
Nikki frowned. What wasn’t Joe sharing? ‘You will keep—’
But he’d hung up and Nikki wanted to throw her phone at the wall. Who the hell was Joe Drummond to hang up on her! Okay, so what if it was a Sunday evening and he was with his latest girlfriend? He owed her. Stamping her feet, causing slush to drench her jeans, before spinning on her heel, she trudged back to her vehicle, got in and resumed her nightly rounds. Something was off in this area and, even if it killed her, she’d find out what it was. An invisible kingpin was worrisome. She much preferred the ones that she could see. The ones that were in the open. It was the insidious ones that caused more damage.
A half-hour later, shoulders aching with being hunched over her steering wheel, Nikki turned into her own street and parked up in the only space she could find which was just outside her mother’s house. Her sister’s and Nikki’s homes were half a dozen doors further down on the opposite side of the road. Since everything that had happened before, Nikki had got into the habit of sitting in her car for a few minutes to clear some of her work from her mind before entering the house. That way she was able to be present in Marcus’s company. He appreciated it and it was working for them now they’d moved in together.
The kids too were happier. So what if on occasion she resented not having her own space, resented not being able
