Название: Strangers: The unforgettable crime thriller from the #1 bestseller
Автор: Paul Finch
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9780007551323
isbn:
Lucy looked in fascination at the image of Bill Pentecost, the north-west’s legendary boss of bosses. At first glance there was nothing immediately brutal about him, but on closer inspection something wasn’t quite right. He was weasel-faced, with a shock of greying ‘wire-wool’ hair. His features were lean and sharp-edged, and he wore steel-framed, rectangular-lensed glasses over a pair of narrow, ice-blue eyes.
‘Pentecost started his career as a council estate money-lender,’ Slater said. ‘His trademark was extreme terror; he would punish those who failed to pay up by crucifying them on doors. But he built his larger empire on drugs and extortion, finally coming to occupy a position as one of Manchester’s top godfathers. As such, his vision gradually broadened. He decided that he’d rather make deals than engage in crazy violence, and so arranged a meeting of all the heads of the region’s main gangs, at which he proposed the set-up of a kind of overarching north-west crime faction, in which they’d all participate and which in due course would become known as “the Crew”. Members would have an equal partnership and an equal say in all major decisions affecting the governance and protection of crime in this region, the endgame being to establish permanent peace and prosperity.
‘And guess what … with a few minor exceptions, it worked. Harmony wasn’t just restored to the north-west crime network, all these years later the Crew is still the leading underworld power in this region. It’s got a controlling interest in just about every racket you can think of, and Bill Pentecost, now in his mid-fifties, is firmly cemented in place as top dog.’
He paused to take a breath, and for the first time smiled – a rather tired smile, Lucy thought, the smile of a guy so used to thinking how unfair it was that these killers were all millionaires while the average copper spent so much of his time worried about his pension that if he didn’t laugh about it he’d cry.
‘As I say, you’re unlikely to meet him,’ Slater said. ‘He never gets his own hands dirty anymore. He’s got umpteen layers of fall-guys between him and the streets, but it’s important you know who he is, because quite a few of these girls are likely to be on his pay-roll, albeit indirectly. Which brings us to the second name you need to know, and this is someone it’s just conceivable you might meet up with.’
He indicated the left-hand image. This one portrayed a younger man, perhaps only his mid-forties, but again lean and feral of feature, an impression enhanced by a vaguely insane smile. His head was completely shaved, and his eyes sunk into pits. Lucy had the notion that if some Photoshop genius added a goatee beard and a pair of antlers, it would be a perfect spit for the Devil.
‘As I say, the Crew have many rackets,’ Slater said, ‘and one of the most lucrative is the sex trade. So this is their pimp-in-chief, the ludicrously named Nick Merryweather, more accurately known as “Necktie Nicky” thanks to his preferred method of despatching those he doesn’t like. For the record, Serious Crimes Division has two unsolved murders on its books wherein the APs, both of them underworld players, were found with their throats cut and their tongues pulled out through the wound. They’re suspected to be Crew hits, and Necktie Nicky, though a Crew lieutenant rather than a soldier, was almost certainly the assassin. So this is someone to be especially wary of, though most likely, if you do your job properly, you’ll be a flyspeck beneath his notice. That’s assuming he bothers coming out to check on business. He has lots of madams and under-pimps to do that for him.’
He moved along to the third and final mugshot.
‘Now … prostitution being what it is in the age of Internet-fuelled home industry, not even a terror like Necktie Nicky can exert ownership over the entire field. He doesn’t actually run any brothels – he protects them, in other words he takes a big share of all their profits. That’s the way the Crew work, which makes it hard if not impossible to hit them with any real criminal charges. But as I said, there’s so much sex-for-sale out there now that even Nick Merryweather can’t cover the entire spectrum. So to help him, he relies on this charmer, fellow Crew lieutenant Frank McCracken.’
McCracken’s face was in some ways the scariest on show, because it was the most normal. There was a hardness about it, for sure, but he was also a handsome man, square-jawed, dark-eyed, his lightly greying hair worn in a sharp crew-cut. His eyes were chips of glass – there was no doubt that this character would kick you to death if you said a word out of place. But he too was in his fifties, and if you weren’t on the look-out for villainy, it was possible you could pass him in the street without giving him another glance.
‘Anyone know what McCracken’s official role in the Crew is?’ Slater asked.
Another girl put her hand up. ‘The Shakedown.’
‘Correct again,’ Slater replied. ‘And you even use the underworld terminology, so ten out of ten. Frank McCracken’s role in the Crew, ladies and gentlemen, is what they call “the Shakedown”. If ever a lucrative theft is committed in the north-west area, like a robbery, a high-end burglary or fraud, or if pimps, dealers and bookies are active who aren’t “officially approved”, it’s McCracken’s job to ensure the Crew gets its cut. And trust me, he’s very good at it. Some of his methods, at least those reported to us as hearsay, are beyond imagining. On the upside, McCracken is another who only comes out to play if the opposition gets serious. It’s unlikely that small-time operators like you will actually encounter him.’
He paused to look them over. Everyone was maintaining a suitably serious aspect, but quite a few of the girls, again mainly the young ones, had noticeably paled.
‘I’d imagine none of you are feeling any the less nervous after what I’ve just told you,’ Slater said. ‘Sorry about that, but how would it help if I lied? This just underlines the importance of the front you put out when you hit those streets. As I said, the Crew don’t control all the sex-for-sale in the north-west. It’s too diverse, involves too many people and is too technology-driven. From your POV it’s a good thing that you won’t be the only freelancers out there. But it’s important that each one of you gets a good cover story and gets it right – who you are, where you live, why you’re on the game, etc. In the first instance, you won’t be going out there cold. Vice have loaned us one or two working girls who also happen to be snitches – but only the most trustworthy, so that means there’s no more than a handful of them. They won’t be able to hold all your hands all the time – and at some point you are going to be asked questions. It’ll happen less out there on the fringes of town, where everything’s a bit wild and woolly, than it would on the backstreets around Piccadilly and Whalley Range, but it’s going to happen and you’re going to have to be ready for it. Now you’ll all have protectors, you know that … but some crap you’ll just have to deal with. Any questions so far?’
‘Most punters would be surprised to learn there’s any kind of prostitution out on the road networks,’ one of the girls said. ‘People drive around all day and never see anything.’
‘That’s true,’ Slater replied. ‘We’re going to train you up on that as well. Because you start openly touting at some service stations and you’ll be locked up by Traffic before you can say “Cynthia Payne”. It’s the quieter spots the girls tend to work from: lay-bys, lorry parks, picnic areas – especially at night, when they’re deep in shadow. Again … sorry not to sweeten this for you, but it’s in those shadows where you’ll need to be. And it isn’t going to be nice.’
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