The Rules. Kerry Barnes

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      ‘What’s up, Mikey? Everything okay?’

      Mike surveyed who was in the room and then looked back at Willie. ‘Yeah, of course.’

      Willie knew then that it was serious. Between the lads, they understood every wink, nod, and expression – it was like an unspoken code. Growing up together from babies, they were as close as brothers.

      ***

      An hour later, they were gathered inside Mike and Ricky’s cell. Ted Stafford and Lou Baker sat on Ricky’s bed, while Willie and Ricky sat on Mike’s. Mike shut the door and remained standing as if he was about to give a lecture. They all waited for the announcement.

      ‘So, I had a visit from the Police Commissioner, no fucking less.’

      Willie licked his fag paper and raised his brow. ‘Oh yeah? What the ’ell’s that all about, then?’

      ‘Well, lads, he wants our help—’

      Lou jumped in. ‘Since when do we ’elp the Filth?’ It was unusual for Lou to interrupt; he was usually the quieter one, who generally chose his words carefully. He was the man who could pull off acting like royalty, if need be.

      ‘My thoughts exactly, Lou, but here’s the thing. They have been overrun with crimes that not even the likes of us would condone, and it’s rife out there. The police haven’t got the manpower they used to have. It’s to do with politics and cuts or something like that, so there ain’t enough of the Ol’ Bill to bring these gangs to their knees.’

      Staffie, who was Mike’s closest friend, scratched his bald head. ‘I dunno, I don’t get it, Mike. What’s it got to do with us, anyway?’

      ‘Listen up. We’ll be released early, all of us, in return for throwing our weight around and looking like we’re helping them, when, really, we ain’t. I don’t know the exact details. The Commissioner will be back to visit me in a few days to discuss it a bit further. But, whatever, I ain’t said yeah to it. You know me. No fucking way would I help the Filth. But what if we agree to their deal, and then, once we’re out, we treat it like a game to our advantage? What d’ya say if we rough up a few scallies that we would anyway, and, in the meantime, we use their blind eye to make a fucking mint?’

      Willie puffed on the end of his roll-up, and then he let out a smoke ring. ‘We ain’t grasses, and we ain’t the Ol’ Bill.’

      Mike nodded in agreement. He’d expected this reaction. It was who they were. Grassing to the Filth was a no-no in their line of work. ‘Yep, mate, you’re right, but these little firms have not only been mugging pensioners but they’re into killing kids as well. A twelve-year-old boy was murdered on his way home from school. And, oh yeah, they’ve been gang raping young girls.’

      Staffie sat up straight. ‘Shit! Fucking bastards.’

      ‘Yep. So, they may be villains, but, really, they ain’t like us, or like the real Faces in London. If these two-bit gangs think they can muscle in on my manor, then they’ll get a shock, and whatever happens, we won’t get nicked. See what I’m saying? We won’t be helping the law, we’ll be helping ourselves to take back our turf and run the little shites out of town. Let’s face it, we would do that anyway. I’ve been away a long time, and I wanna get back out there and take back what’s mine, as ya know.’

      ‘If we were to agree, how far will they let us go? And what’s really in it for us? I mean, what about our own business? Are they gonna turn a blind eye, or, after they get what they want, will we find ourselves back in the slammer?’ asked Lou.

      Mike shrugged his shoulders. ‘The finer details, I don’t know, but, before I get another visit, I need to know what you guys want. Let’s face it, we could make a lot of money out of this. Think about it. We ain’t being informants, are we? And besides, we won’t be working for the Filth, ’cos if we’re clever enough about it, they’ll be working for us. They’ll give us tip-offs, and if I push ’em, they could give us information that’d work in our favour.’

      Willie chuckled. ‘Sounds like a fucking plan, mate.’

      Staffie’s face was loaded with disapproval. ‘I don’t know about this. It ain’t what we’re about, is it? And what do we really have that’ll guarantee we’ll stay outta jail?’

      ‘Fuck off, Staffie, you’re always unsure these bleedin’ days,’ spat Willie.

      ‘No, Willie, Staffie has as much say as any of us.’

      Staffie’s narrowed eyes widened. ‘Are you sure you’re gonna be one step ahead of the law?’

      Mike grinned. ‘Haven’t I always been – well, in the past, before I was banged up?’

      Staffie chewed his top lip and sighed. ‘S’pose so.’

      Mike grinned. ‘If we’re all in agreement, I’ll need to work out how to guarantee our continued liberty.’

      Ricky watched the dynamics and how the men looked up to his father, hanging on his every word. He felt proud, but, also, he wanted to be a part of the firm and not just ‘Mikey’s son’. Although he and his dad had been apart for twelve years, it didn’t matter. He wanted to be by his side, no matter what that looked like.

      ‘Can I say something?’

      Mike’s stern face lit up when he looked at his son. ‘Of course you can, my boy.’

      Ricky nervously looked at the other men. ‘Um, your lawyer. Couldn’t he have a contract drawn up, or, better still, be present as a witness when the judge signs your release papers?’

      Willie patted Ricky on the back. ‘Good idea, Ricky. See, up there for thinking, down there for dancing.’

      Mike nodded, encouraging his son. ‘Yep, he may well be the brains of the outfit,’ he laughed, as he looked over at Willie.

      Staffie jumped in. ‘And the fucking brawn. Ya should’ve seen him bash the fuck outta Tit and Tat.’

      All four men laughed while Ricky blushed.

CHAPTER TWO

      With Tatum and her son in prison, Jackie had to get off her arse and make her own money. She’d syphoned off a very healthy amount from Mike before she’d done a runner. The house near Ely was the first to be flogged off. Cash was king as far as she was concerned and what was the point in keeping the place on? She’d dwindled the proceeds away to the point that now she was nearly skint. And the regular poke she’d received from Tatum for using her son on the burglaries had now gone. Having pissed off half the site with her temper tantrums, she was down to no friends, with just herself and a bottle of Grey Goose for company. But even that had recently been replaced with a cheaper bottle of vodka.

      She looked out of the window and watched as Cora, Tatum’s wife, stood gossiping with two other women. Holding bags of knocked-off T-shirts, Cora was now confident enough to have the women running around for her. It was once Jackie’s job: she had the contacts and the suppliers and could make a few bob. However, one supplier got a bit cheeky, so Jackie slapped her. Word spread what a bitch Jackie could be, and hence, slowly but surely, the СКАЧАТЬ