The Wolves of London Page 6

  I was over half an hour early. I took my drink to a nearby table and passed the time wishing he’d arrive, in order to get this thing over with. I wished I’d bought a newspaper too, so that I could appear to be sitting casually, leafing through it, when he walked in. I did consider popping out and getting one, but then I got a mental image of me leaving the pub just as he was coming in, and him maybe thinking I was chickening out – so I stayed put.

  The door opened a few times over the next half-hour, first to admit a gaggle of students – none of them mine, thank God – then a trio of brassy blondes, dolled up for a night out, one of whom gave me the eye, and then a couple of blokes who looked like they’d been working on a building site. Eventually, feeling like Johnny No-Mates, I took out my mobile and busied myself with it. I’d had a message from Candice asking if I’d had any further thoughts about our conversation last night, so I texted her back to say I was working on it. Then I logged on to the internet and looked at the news and sport headlines without taking anything in. I finished my wine, and at first decided not to get another until Benny turned up, then thought it’d look a bit pathetic if I was sitting there with nothing in front of me when he arrived. So I got up from my seat and went over to the bar, purposely ignoring the blonde who’d eyed me earlier and who I could see out of the corner of my eye was doing so again.

  I ordered another Merlot, and was rooting in my pocket for change when I sensed a presence behind me. Thinking it was the blonde, I turned, and suddenly there he was.

  ‘Hello, Alex,’ he said.

  He’d aged well. He had a few lines around his eyes and mouth, and his sandy hair, now cropped short, had turned grey at the temples, but otherwise he was tanned, slim and fit-looking. He was wearing a grey suit and a pale blue shirt with no tie – classy, but not too flash. Seeing him gave me a renewed and vertiginous realisation that I’d reached into the past and pulled it into the present despite my good intentions, and that there was now no turning back. I covered my apprehension by smiling and holding out my hand.

  ‘Benny. It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming.’

  His grip was firm and dry. I was surprised to find he was shorter than I’d remembered, certainly a good three or four inches shorter than my own six-two. In prison he had always seemed to dominate any room he was in, and I supposed in the intervening years I’d mistakenly linked the force of his personality with a physical presence more intimidating than he actually possessed.

  ‘Good to see you too, Alex. What are you drinking?’

  ‘My shout,’ I said. ‘It’s because of me that you’re here, after all.’

  His expression didn’t change, nor his stance. Yet suddenly I became aware that his pale blue eyes were fixed on me, and it was as if a chill had crept in from somewhere. I felt the muscles tighten in my cheeks.

  Pleasantly he said, ‘Take it from me, I never go anywhere unless I want to.’

  ‘Course not,’ I said, trying to keep my own voice light. ‘Which is why I’m so grateful you agreed to see me.’

  His ice-chip eyes regarded me a split second longer, and then flickered away to assess the array of bottles behind the bar. ‘I’ll have a Scotch and soda,’ he said. ‘No ice.’

  Rather than making small talk at the bar he turned and padded across to a table near the window. He moved confidently, almost daintily, like a dancer. He sat and turned his face to the last of the day’s meagre daylight dribbling in through the distorted glass, his hands folded in his lap. He didn’t move until I had placed our glasses on the table and sat down, and then he turned to me.

  ‘Suppose you’re good at reading people, picking up signals?’ he said without preamble. ‘Non-verbal communication and all that?’

  I shrugged, wondering whether I was being tested, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to psychoanalyse him. ‘Well, I know the theory. But practical application’s a different matter. What you become aware of more than anything, the further you read into the subject, is how many hang-ups you’ve got.’

  Benny chuckled. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, that blonde over there’s got the hots for you.’ He indicated where he meant with the slightest twitch of his head.

  I resisted the impulse to look over. ‘I’d have to have been blind not to have noticed that.’

  We laughed together, and I felt my tension slowly easing. Then Benny said, ‘You’ve been regretting ringing me all day, haven’t you, Alex? You’ve been wondering whether you made a mistake by picking up the phone this morning?’

  I’d half-raised my glass to my mouth, but now I froze and looked at him. ‘What makes you say that?’

  He took a sip from his own glass, as if encouraging me to do the same. ‘Relax, son. I’m not gonna bite your head off. It’s just that I’m a bit of a psychologist myself. Purely amateur, of course. You have to be to survive as long as I have in my world. You have to know how people tick. You have to understand their motives and needs.’

  ‘In order to manipulate them?’ I asked, feeling suddenly bold.

  He shrugged. ‘Sometimes. Sometimes just so that you know who you can trust and who’s likely to stab you in the back.’

  I sipped my wine, trying not to rush it. ‘So you know how I tick, then?’

  ‘I know what a tough decision it must have been for you to ring me, and how you’ve been feeling since.’

  ‘Oh?’

  He smiled. ‘No disrespect, but it’s not exactly rocket science. Soon as you did what you did to land in Pentonville you knew it was a mistake. You decided then and there to put it behind you, to better yourself, and I admire you for that. Most of the kids inside, they’re ignorant and lazy and they don’t know any better. They think being a criminal makes them tough and independent, and that going straight, abiding by the law, means they’re soft, that they can’t hack it.

  ‘But they’re wrong. Because it takes a lot more guts to do what you did. For young kids the pressure inside to be meaner and badder than everyone else is immense. If the government don’t want inmates to re-offend then they shouldn’t put them together in the first place. Criminality feeds off criminality. Stands to reason.’

  ‘So where should you put them?’ I said. ‘You can’t build individual prisons for people. There aren’t the resources to remove offenders from the environments that make them what they are.’

  Benny gave me a crooked smile. ‘Now that’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it?’

  ‘And what about you?’ I ventured. ‘Aren’t you putting yourself down by saying what you’re saying?’

  ‘I am what I am,’ Benny said. ‘I am what society made me. I’m not saying I’m proud of it, and I’m not saying I’m ashamed of it. It’s just the way it is.’

  ‘You seem to have done okay for yourself, though.’

  ‘Well, that’s because I was brought up right. I listened to my elders and respected what they told me. I kept my eyes and ears open and was encouraged to think for myself. I didn’t rush into things and I didn’t run before I could walk. It’s all about planning. Using a bit of this.’ He tapped the side of his head.

  ‘But this isn’t about me,’ he continued. ‘It’s about you. When I gave you my number and told you to call if you needed anything, I thought the odds were I’d never hear from you again. And to be honest, I hoped I never would hear from you again. If I did, I knew it’d mean that you were in trouble, or that you’d somehow slipped off the straight and narrow. I knew you’d keep my number, though, and not throw it away. Even back then you were a smart boy, and a careful one, and I knew you’d keep it as something to fall back on, just in case.’

  ‘And when I called you today,’ I said, ‘what did you think?’

  ‘Like I said, I knew you must be desperate. I’m part of your old life, the one you were determined never to go back to, so I’m guessing that since putting the phone down this morning you’ve been regretting calling me, dreading this meeting, wondering what it’ll lead to. You’re trying to act like you’re pleased
to see me, but you’re not really. You’re scared.’

  It was disconcerting, having my layers stripped away so unceremoniously.

  ‘You’re very astute,’ I said, ‘and I have to admit that’s a pretty accurate assessment.’ I paused, then asked, ‘Should I be scared?’

  Benny shrugged. ‘Probably. Not of me, though.’

  ‘Of what then?’

  ‘Of whatever it is that made you pick up that phone, and of what you might have to do to put it right.’

  I sighed and took a gulp of wine. ‘Like I said, my daughter’s in trouble.’ Briefly I told him what Candice had told me last night.

  After I’d finished Benny was silent for a moment. He sat there, staring at me. I tipped my head back, tilting my glass towards my lips to avoid meeting his eyes.

  Then, almost callously, he said, ‘So what do you expect me to do about it?’

  I shrugged, trying not to appear intimidated. ‘Like I said on the phone, I’d value your advice.’

  ‘No,’ he said.

  I blinked, taken aback. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I mean no, that’s not it. That’s not what you want me to do.’

  For a moment I wasn’t sure how to respond, and then tentatively I said, ‘Isn’t it?’

  He looked almost disappointed. ‘At least have the courtesy to be honest with me, Alex. What you really want is for me to deal with this scrote, don’t you? You want me to make your problem go away?’

  I licked my lips, which had suddenly gone dry. ‘Well… I suppose I was hoping you’d suggest that,’ I mumbled.

  ‘So what’s in it for me?’

  ‘I… I don’t know. I suppose I thought…’

  ‘That I’d do you a favour? Old times and all that?’

  I shrugged again. I felt two inches tall. And despite what Benny had said, I was scared of him.

  ‘I suppose so. Look, I’m sorry, Benny. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should never have bothered you.’

  Silence fell between us again. Then Benny sighed and stood up. I thought he was going to walk away without another word, and wretched though I felt, I was grateful that I was about to be let off so lightly.

  Then he said, ‘Let’s have another drink,’ and walked across to the bar. I sat there in a daze until he came back.

  ‘Now,’ he said, putting the drinks on the table, ‘let’s talk about this thing. And no fucking about this time. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ I said.

  ‘Right then. First off, I’m not your fucking pit bull. You don’t just let me off the chain and order me to kill. Understand?’

  I swallowed. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘All right. Now, second thing, I sympathise about your daughter, and it’s clear that this cunt needs taking down a peg or two, but this is your fight, not mine, so if you want him sorted out you’re going to have to do it yourself.’

  I grimaced, thought of the conversation I’d had with Candice last night. I’d been the tough guy then, enraged and vowing I’d take control of the situation. Now I felt nineteen again, floundering and out of my depth.

  ‘I hear what you’re saying,’ I said, ‘but… I’m not sure I can do that. It’s… well, it’s not really my forte.’

  I winced at how feeble that sounded, but Benny took it in his stride – maybe he’d even been expecting it.

  Spreading his hands, he said, ‘So your only alternative, it seems to me, is to pay this fucker off.’

  ‘Yeah, but how? The bank won’t lend me the money, and there’s no one I can borrow it from.’

  Instead of answering, Benny reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a black leather wallet with a gold clasp. As he opened it, I thought for one horrifying moment that he was going to lend me the money; I even had an image of him handing over the thousands I needed in cash, right there in the pub. If there was one thing I definitely didn’t want, it was to be in debt to Benny Magee. However what Benny took from his wallet was a midnight-blue business card, which he placed on the table in front of me.

  I picked it up. Embossed in silver across the middle of the card was the word ‘Incognito’. In the bottom left-hand corner, in smaller letters, was an address in Soho.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked.

  ‘Gentlemen’s club run by a friend of mine.’

  I looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He took a sip of his Scotch and said, ‘My friend is looking for someone smart and reliable for a one-off job. Very easy work, very good money. If you’re interested, I can make a call on your behalf right now.’

  Despite the wine my mouth was dry. I had the sudden feeling that I was stepping into quicksand.

  ‘Am I allowed to ask what kind of work it is?’

  ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you,’ Benny said, his face deadpan. He held the expression for a little longer than was comfortable, then suddenly grinned. ‘Seriously, Alex, it’s nothing too heavy. It’s the easiest twenty-five grand you’ll ever make. You’ll be able to pay off your daughter’s debts and have enough left over for a nice holiday.’

  ‘Twenty-five grand,’ I repeated slowly.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘You’re wondering if I’m setting you up to be the fall guy in some dodgy deal.’

  ‘I don’t—’ I said, but Benny held up a hand, stemming my protestations.

  ‘I don’t blame you. That’s how I’d feel. Look, why don’t you just go and talk to my friend, find out what the job entails? No strings attached, and if you decide it isn’t for you, you can walk away.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Why not? Makes no odds to me. I’m not going to lose out, so I won’t hold it against you.’

  ‘But won’t it put me in a compromising position, knowing things I shouldn’t?’

  Benny chuckled. ‘This isn’t James Bond, Alex.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said.

  Benny shrugged. ‘Up to you. Look, I’ll go for a piss, give you a couple of minutes to think about it.’

  He stood up and walked away from the table. There was a part of me that wanted to stand up too and run out of the door before he came back. On the other hand I knew that if I did I’d be forever wondering what kind of opportunity I’d turned down. I couldn’t imagine the job would be legal, not for that sort of money, but on the other hand Benny was right. It would easily pay off Candice’s debts and leave me with a nice little nest egg. But could I risk everything I’d built up, my life with Kate, my career? Then again, what was my career worth compared to Candice’s safety? And it wasn’t as if I couldn’t turn the job down if I decided it was too risky, or if I was asked to do something I wasn’t comfortable with. I wasn’t a kid any more. I couldn’t be intimidated into doing something I didn’t want to do.

  ‘All right,’ I said to Benny when he came back. ‘Tell your friend I’ll go in for a chat. But please make it clear that that doesn’t mean I’ll take the job.’

  If Benny had gone off somewhere else to make the call I might have been suspicious, but he did it right in front of me. He produced an iPhone from his pocket and tapped in a number.

  ‘Monroe?’ he said. ‘It’s Benny. Listen, I might have someone for that job you want doing.’ He listened a moment, then looked at me. ‘Can you get over there right away?’

  My instinct was to say no, that I needed time to think, time to arrange childcare for Kate, but even as these responses popped into my mind I knew they were nothing but excuses, and that if I didn’t act immediately I’d talk myself out of grabbing for the branch that Benny had held out for me. I licked my lips, then gave a brief nod.

  ‘He’ll be there in an hour or so,’ Benny said. ‘His name’s Alex. But listen, Monroe, he’s just coming for a chat, okay? No obligation… What? Yeah, I’ll tell him… Right, I’ll speak to you soon. Bye.’

  Benny cut the connection and put the phone back in his pocket. ‘It’s all fixed up,’ he said. ‘Knock on the door and when someone answers, ask for Monroe.’ He
drained his glass and nodded at mine. ‘You’d better drink up and get going.’

  I gulped at the remainder of the wine in my glass, trying not to feel flustered. This was all happening with indecent haste, and no matter how much I told myself I could walk away from it at any time, I couldn’t help feeling like an insect in the already closing jaws of a carnivorous plant. I stood up, bumping my knees on the table, and held out my hand.

  ‘It was good to see you again, Benny,’ I said. ‘And thanks.’

  He shook my hand and looked me in the eye, his gaze as pale and fathomless as ever.

  ‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he said drily.

  FIVE

  INCOGNITO

  From the business card that Benny had given me, I expected Incognito to be one of those exclusive little places located within a Victorian town house. I expected white pillars, stone steps, perhaps a polished brass plaque beside a glossy black door. What struck me when I arrived, though, was that the snazzy card in my hand was nothing but the equivalent of a silver-plated fish hook. No doubt management strategy was based on the hope that once potential customers had gone to the trouble of finding the chipped grey entry door tucked down a side alley off one of Soho’s less populated thoroughfares, few would turn away without at least satisfying their curiosity.

  Maybe they were right, but I hesitated a long time before knocking. It wasn’t simply the appearance of the club – which was stuck between a grotty dry cleaner’s and a driving school called ‘L’ To Pay, with the dirtiest windows I’d ever seen – that put me off, but the inkling I’d had since punching in Benny’s number that morning that I was venturing into dark and dangerous territory.

  More than anything, what being in prison had taught me was how precious and wonderful it is to have your freedom. That might sound trite, but it’s not until the things that you take for granted are denied you that you realise how much you relish them. Simple things like spending time with your kids, walking to the corner shop for a paper, a quiet pint in the pub on a Sunday lunchtime, watching a late-night film on the telly – was I prepared to put all of that at risk? I knew this job that Benny had lined up would be dodgy, but sitting on the tube the question I’d been asking myself was: how dodgy? Maybe this Monroe bloke would want me to be a getaway driver, or courier, or drug mule? Maybe he’d want me to provide an alibi for one of his mates in a court case, or add a note of respectability to a scam he was running? What would I be prepared to do to get Candice out of trouble? How far would I go? If you had asked me yesterday I might have glibly said I’d do anything to help my kids. But if it really came down to it, would I break the law? Would I be prepared to risk everything I’d striven to achieve – my position, my reputation, most crucially my life with Kate – to protect my eldest daughter?