Читать книгу The Young Gangsters - E.J.P Murphy - Страница 10

JIMMY WOKE UP JUST AFTER 10.30AM. HE GOT UP AND WASHED QUICKLY, GOT DRESSED AND WALKED OUT OF THE BEDROOM INTO THE KITCHEN.

His dad, as usual, was sat at the table, cigarette stuck in his mouth, reading the paper.

“Wanna cup of tea?” his dad asked, looking at him. He waited for a reply.

Jimmy looked at him, thinking to himself “he’s after something.”

“Yeah, please. Did Mark get off to school all right?”

“Yeah, I walked down with him, needed some sugar anyway, so nipped into the shop on the way back.”

His dad got up, poured his son a cup of tea, looked over to him and said, “Want toast or something?”

“No thanks.” He never called him ‘Dad’ and vowed he never would. He sat down at the table as his cup was put in front of him. He looked up at him and said, “Ta.”

“You out, today Jimmy?” his dad asked him.

“All day, so you’ll have to get Mark’s dinner for him. I’ll leave you some money, save you cooking, not that you can bloody cook anyway.”

“I can cook if I want to,” Billy Day said, looking at his son.

“Yeah, when you’re sober, so make do with a take-away. Mark likes Chinese, so get him that.”

Jimmy looked at his watch, it was just after 11.30am, he’d have to go soon.

He walked back into the bedroom, knelt down at the side of the bed and reached under. He pulled out his cut-down baseball bat. He stood up, went to the wardrobe, and picked out his long coat. Before he put it on, he rolled the elastic band which kept the bat concealed up on his arm and secured it. He put his coat on, picked up his baseball cap and put it on.

He looked in the full-length mirror, liked what he saw and walked back into the kitchen. His dad had his back to him, washing his cup.

Jimmy put his hand into his jeans, took out a wad of money, unrolled £30 and put it on the table. He walked out of the kitchen and over to the front door. As he opened it, he shouted out to his dad, “The money’s on the table for your teas. Keep the change.” Knowing that he would, he walked out and slammed the door.

Jimmy walked slowly down the Pancras Way, behind King’s Cross, thinking about why he was going there in the first place. His mind went back to last week when he had bumped into one of his many girlfriends’ mothers, Mrs James.

“Jimmy, Jimmy, over here” she had shouted to him as he was walking down Kentish Town Road.

“Oh God,” he had thought “I bet that bloody daughter of her’s is up the spout. She told me she was on the pill’.

Jimmy pretended he hadn’t heard her and made a bee-line for the post office. He went in and stood in the corner hoping that, if she came in, she wouldn’t see him. She did and came over to him. “Jimmy, am I glad to see you … I need to talk to you.”

“Mrs James, I can explain, if it’s me I’ll do good by her” he looked at her smiling.

She looked at him a bit bewildered. “What you on about, Jimmy. It’s not Linda.” She looked at him and burst out laughing.

“No, she ain’t pregnant, it’s about Mick, her brother.”

“Wow, that’s a relief Mrs James, I mean, we never really done anything, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, pull the other one, Jimmy. Come over to the red cafe, have a cuppa with me. I need a word with you.”

They sat down. Stirring her tea, Mrs James looked at him and said, “Someone down at Mick’s school has been trying to sell crack to the kids.”

“What?” Jimmy was really startled. “At Mick’s school, you’re having me on.”

“No I’m not, Jimmy, a white bloke and a black geezer, they’re about 25 years old. I’ve seen them a few times but thought they were picking up their kids, you know, you don’t think about things like that happening. They’re only five to fifteen year olds, kids, for God’s sake – what scumbags would do that?”

“Are you sure, Mrs James, I mean 100 percent sure?”

“Call me Janet. Yes I’m bloody sure.” She took out her fags. “Want one, luv?”

“No thanks, Mrs … er … Janet.”

Jimmy looked at her. “Look Janet, I’ll look into this OK? Leave it to me.”

She looked at him, a big smile on her face and said, “I knew you would Jim, I …”

“Jimmy, please, Janet, I hate the name Jim.”

“Sorry. As I was saying, I know you hate drugs and you have a young brother yourself and our Linda said you were a bit of a hard-nut, even though you’re only young. My old man’s a bloody wimp. We need a few young ones about.” A twinkle came into her eye. “Know what I mean, luv?” She laughed.

Jimmy got up, looked down at her and said smiling, “I’ll see what I can do. On a Tuesday they’re there, you said?”

“Thanks Jimmy, yeah Tuesdays. You’re always welcome at our house you know.”

As Jimmy walked back into the road, he thought to himself, “Yeah welcome in your house, but not to see Linda, I bet,” he smiled.

Jimmy thought about the future. He had walked all this way thinking about what Janet James had told him. As he came into Pancras Way, he saw the rest of the boys sat around, but not all together.

“Good thinking,” he thought to himself. Bertie must have split them up.

As Bertie came into view, Jimmy saw that he was sat on a low wall talking to Dave Smith and Paul White. They saw him coming and, as usual, Bertie got up and made his way towards him.

“Watcha, mate,” he looked over his shoulder, “all here, Jimmy except Pete, he couldn’t make it, had to go out with his dad to fetch a cooker they’d bought on the cheap.”

That’s OK, don’t think we’ll need him.” He glanced at his watch – 12.15pm.

“Right, the kids come out for lunch about 12.50, right?” He looked at his mate.

“Yeah, right mate. I asked my mum’s friend Mrs Brady, she’s a dinner lady here. She said the kids usually run out into the yard about 12.55” Bertie said, looking at his friend. “Why?”

“Well, Janet James reckons them geezers come round about 1 and talk to the kids through the railings, but today they’re in for a bit of a surprise, ain’t they?”

“They bloody well are, old son.”

“Less of the old, Bertie. Come on, let’s get the boys together. I’ve got a nice little plan.”

They were all sat around on the wall, waiting for Jimmy to talk to them.

“Dave, did you get hold of Lenny Mason?”

“Yep, Jimmy, he should be here soon.”

“OK, now listen up. I’ve asked Lenny to come and give us a hand; he’s a bit of a villain and will do anything for money. This is what we’re going to do.”

“Janet says them geezers stand over the back of the school near those railings. See ’em over there?” he said, pointing over to the school. “They stand there ’cos the school teachers or caretaker can’t see them, it’s on an angle, you see. Anyway, when we see them we are gonna rush them, suprise and all that. Bundle them in the back of the van and go from there.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be that easy, ain’t it” Micky the Ferret, said to Jimmy laughing.

“It will be, believe me. Have you seen the size of Lenny? He stands 6ft 3in, weighs about 20st. He’ll get them, you wait and see.”

As he finished talking, a white transit van pulled up across the road.

“Hi, Jimmy,” a voice boomed across the road.

“Shush, keep your voice down, Lenny. Do you want the whole world hanging around here?”

Jimmy walked across the road to the van. He waited until Lenny got out. Long hair, scruffy beard and boy, was he big.

“Hello, mate,” Jimmy said to him, “dead on time. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the boys.”

“Hang on, hang on, Jimmy, money up front, remember.”

“Oh, sorry, Lenny.” Jimmy dipped into his back pocket, bringing out a white envelope. “Here, 500 wasn’t it? Did you bring the tape and rope?”

“Yeah, everything’s in there, Jimmy, don’t worry. Where are them bastards? Anything to do with kids makes my bloody blood boil.”

“Jimmy, Jimmy, they’re here,” Dave said as he ran across to him and Lenny. “They’re doing exactly as Janet James said they would.”

“Right, Lenny, get the van as near to them as you can. Me and the boys will just pretend we’re going by and we’ll make the switch, but, Lenny, I want you with me, Dave and Bertie, OK?”

“OK, Jimmy, leave it to me.”

Lenny got in the van and drove it around to the school which was on the corner.

“Come on, boys, half with me. Dave, Bertie, Sammy, you lot get over the other side of the road. Only come over if we need you. Micky, you keep watch, let us know when the road is clear, OK?”

They split up; Jimmy and his half going off first, Micky and the rest following on the other side.

As Jimmy rounded the corner of the school, he said to his mates “Dave, get your knife, stick it under the black man’s throat. Bertie, get your club out, me and you will go for their legs, right?”

“With you, Jimmy,” they both said together.

The two men were leaning on the fence, their backs to Jimmy’s gang, oblivious to what was going on.

Lenny’s van was parked 2ft away, the back doors open. Lenny was stood on the pavement pretending he was waiting for someone. As they came abreast of Lenny, Jimmy shouted, “Now, get on with it.”

Dave’s knife came out so fast, he said later it was quicker than a gun draw. He put the knife under the geezer’s chin and said, “Move it you arsehole, in the van … one false move and you’re dead.”

Bertie and Jimmy had the other guy off the pavement before he knew what was happening and they were both thrown in the back of the van. Lenny jumped in after them. They had their arms tied and mouths gagged before they knew what had hit them. They didn’t have time to struggle.

The rest of the gang jumped in the back.

“OK, Lenny, let’s go to the lock-up.”

Lenny got up, jumped out of the van and walked to the front, climbed in, started up the motor and drove up and down Pancras Way, around Royal College Street, backwards and forwards for about half-an-hour to fool them.

Jimmy shouted to him from the back “OK, mate, in we go.”

Lenny went down the side of St Pancras Station. All along Midland Road there were lock-up garages. Jimmy had already rented one over the phone a week earlier, and the key was sent to a different address. It was just the job.

Lenny got out, unlocked the sliding door, opened it, jumped back in behind the wheel and drove inside. He got out again, pulled the main door down and banged on the back of the van.

“Out you come, boys,” he said.

When they were out, Jimmy looked at them. “OK, boys,” let’s see what our packages have to say.”

They pulled the two men out and dumped them on an old mattress on the floor. Jimmy ripped the tape off their mouths. He sat down in an old chair opposite them.

“Now, lads, what’s this I hear about you two trying to sell drugs to our kids? Got something to tell us?”

The black one spat on the side of the mattress. He spluttered, eyes blazing.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing whitey?” he glared at Jimmy “a bunch of fucking kids, what’s fucking going on?”

Jimmy stood up, took his club out from his coat, walked over to the man and smacked him right across the cheek with it. Blood spurted out, followed by a few teeth.

“You bastard, you’re fucking dead, you motherfucker.”

Jimmy hit him again, this time across the legs, but not too hard.

“Are you going to answer the question or not?” Jimmy said to him.

“No chance, you prick,” he spat his blood and saliva all over Jimmy’s boots and coat.

Jimmy stepped back, looked down at his boots, and saw the blood dripping off his coat. He looked up again and turned to Dave.

“Put his gag back on …”

Jimmy put his hand in his pocket and took out a pair of leather gloves. He slowly put them on, cracking his knuckles as he did so.

When Dave had put the tape gag back on the black guy, Jimmy turned to Micky the Ferret and said “Gimme your club, it’s longer than mine.”

“Sure, Jimmy.” Micky passed it over and stood back. So did the others. They knew what was coming, they’d seen it before.

Jimmy put the baseball bat above his head, looked down at the black guy and said, “Nobody calls me ‘whitey’ you fucking scumbag,” and brought the club down so hard on the black man’s legs it brought tears to Micky’s eyes.

A muffled groan came from the drug-dealer as Jimmy brought the club down again and again until he couldn’t lift the club anymore.

As cool as ever, he gave the club back to Micky and said to him smiling, “Burn that down the tip, I’ll get another one.”

He bent down and pulled the white man’s tape off. As he did, terror came into the man’s eyes.

Jimmy said to him, “What’s your name, mate?” as if nothing had happened.

“John Bates … please, let me go.”

“I’m going to, Johnny,” he said as he patted his cheek. “You get the message … don’t ever fucking sell drugs to kids again. I’ll find out and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” The man was shaking. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Jimmy looked across at Lenny. “Take him out, mate.” He looked down at the man again.

“Where you live, Johnny boy?”

“Birmingham, we come down twice a week and …”

Jimmy cut him short. “Don’t fucking come down again. You thicko’s stay in your own rubbish tip, got it.”

“Yes, mate … yes mate … don’t worry, I will.”

“Empty your pockets.” Jimmy said to him. Looking at Dave, he said, “Cut them ropes off him.”

Dave cut the ropes and helped the man up.

When he had emptied his pockets, Jimmy counted £300 in notes and two bags of crack, which he stamped on.

“Here,” he gave the man back £40. “Your lucky day. Now fuck off and don’t come back. And if I see you back in London …”

“OK, you lot in the van. Take this bag of shit back to Euston, make sure he gets on the train.”

He gave the money he had left to Dave to share out with the boys.

“Bertie, you stay with me. The rest of you, I’ll see you Thursday over at the pub.”

When they had all gone, Bertie turned to Jimmy and pointed to the black guy lying unconscious. “What about him Jimmy?”

“Watch and learn, Bertie.”

He picked up an old iron pole lying on the floor, walked over to the man on the mattress, looked down at him and smiled. He then smashed the pole down on the man’s head until Bertie pulled him off.

“For fuck’s sake, Jimmy, that’s enough, let’s fuck off.”

Jimmy laughed, threw the pole down and picked up the crushed drugs. He sprinkled it all over the now dead man and said laughing wildly, “Ashes to ashes. You won’t be selling drugs to kids again, mate. Come on, Bertie, let’s go.”

“What about his pockets, Jimmy, you gonna go through ‘em? Might have a lot of dough on him.”

“Na, leave it, the cops will think it’s a gangland killing,” Jimmy replied. “And wrap that pole up. We’ll take it with us. I’ll get rid of it down Tony Murphy’s scrapyard later tonight.”