Head of the Firm

‘So, you’re telling me three of our best men were ambushed by a nutter and three stoners?’ Jake barked.

‘We didn’t ambush them,’ Curly went on. ‘We thought this weed would just be lying there with no one guarding it. We weren’t waiting for anyone. When we saw it was a container full of coke, we thought that maybe something wasn’t adding up, but we were already in it up to our necks by then. We were just going to take some, but then your lads turned up and we panicked. Kenny shot one of them and then we ran.’

The lad beside him shook his head. ‘I fucking told you not to go along with Kenny the Melon,’ he wailed.

‘Where can we find this Kenny the Melon?’ Jake asked.

‘The Brass Balance pub. He’s always in there,’ Curly said.

‘Do you believe this pair of cretins?’ Connor asked.

Jake shook his head. ‘I don’t fucking know. I think someone will be paying Kenny the Melon a visit though, don’t you?’

‘And find out if anyone knows who this fella in the Hugo Boss top is. If he exists!’ Connor added and Paul and Jake nodded in agreement.

‘Exactly how old are you two?’ Jake asked.

‘Eighteen,’ Curly replied.

Connor shook his head and looked at Paul and Jake. ‘We weren’t this fucking green at eighteen, were we?’

‘God, I fucking hope not,’ Jake replied with a laugh.

‘Right then, lads,’ Connor said as he placed one hand on Jake’s shoulder and one on Paul’s. ‘I’m goosed. And I don’t think it’s very fair if all three of us give these two little pricks a kicking, do you?’

Paul shook his head. ‘Like using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut, mate. Yous can get off. I can handle these two.’

‘No, I’ll stay,’ Jake said with a smile. ‘I enjoy watching you work.’

Paul shrugged. ‘Sound.’

‘I’m getting off then. I’ll check on Vinnie, and tell Gary where he can find this Kenny prick.’

Ten minutes later, Curly and his mate stumbled out of the warehouse battered and bruised. They might have had a broken bone or two, but they had also had a very lucky escape. Jake, at least, was content that they would never try to take what was his again.

Chapter Four

Grace walked into the kitchen as Michael was serving up generous portions of scouse to their three older sons, Jake, Paul and Connor.

‘This smells fucking amazing,’ Paul said as he almost stuck his face into the bowl.

‘I haven’t had scouse for weeks,’ Jake said as he plunged his spoon into the hot stew. ‘Thanks, Michael.’

‘Not since the last time you all came for tea,’ Grace said with a smile. Every few weeks one of them would phone up at the arse crack of dawn and ask if they could pop round for tea. When they were reminded they didn’t need to ask, they followed up with a request for a pan of scouse. Grace had to admit, Michael made the best scouse she’d ever tasted. It was even better than her dad’s had been, and that was saying something.

Grace sat on a chair at the big oak table. ‘So, how are things boys? How is business?’

‘Brilliant,’ Paul and Jake said in unison as they stuffed their mouths.

‘All right,’ Connor replied with a shrug.

Grace noted the different responses but didn’t push further. The lads would inevitably tell them everything anyway as the evening wore on.

‘How is the new fella working out, Dad?’ Connor asked before biting off a chunk of crusty buttered bread.

Michael sat down at the table with them. ‘Carl? He’s all right. A bit wet behind the ears, but he’s up for a scrap. Sometimes a bit too up for it, but Murf and the lads will sort him out.’

‘Good,’ said Connor. ‘He can handle himself in the gym, can’t he, Paul?’

‘Yep. Nearly knocked Jake out last week, didn’t he, lad?’ he said as he gave Jake a playful shove.

Jake almost spat his food out of his mouth in his effort to respond. ‘No, he fucking didn’t. Knobhead.’

Grace smiled at their good-natured banter. She loved to see the three of them together. They were step-brothers now as a result of her marriage to Michael, but they acted more like blood brothers.

‘What about the trouble you had with those lads from Birkenhead?’ Grace asked. ‘Did you sort it out?’

‘Yeah. It was just a bunch of kids trying to chance their arm. They had no idea who they were robbing off,’ Jake answered.

‘They won’t be doing it again, anyway,’ Connor assured her.

‘Nope.’ Paul laughed and shook his head.

‘The club’s doing okay too?’ Grace said. ‘I noticed when I looked at the books.’

Jake nodded. ‘Yep. It’s holding its own. It pays everyone’s wages.’

‘Did you sort out that problem I mentioned, Grace?’ Connor asked. ‘I couldn’t work out how to balance the incomings and outgoing last month with that extra money we got in.’

‘Yes. The books are straight now. Everything looks above board,’ she replied.

‘Brilliant. Thanks.’

Grace watched as the boys tucked into their food. It wasn’t long before the talk turned to football and their beloved clubs. Jake and Michael were staunch Evertonians while the twins were diehard Liverpool fans, and the clubs’ legendary rivalry never failed to spark some lively debates. She half listened to their conversation while her mind wandered to Connor’s earlier response to her question about the business. It was a subtle change in his demeanour that she doubted anyone else in the room had even registered. She hoped that it meant nothing, but her gut told her that it was something.

Grace was putting plates into the dishwasher when Connor came into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out four beers.

‘Everything okay, Con?’ Grace asked him.

‘Yeah. Why?’ he replied.

‘You just look like there’s something on your mind, that’s all. You didn’t seem as convinced as Jake and Paul that things were going well. I know you’re the one who does most of the boring paperwork stuff. Is something up?’

Connor placed the bottles on the worktop. ‘You know when you get that feeling something’s just not right, Grace?’ he asked. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but I just feel like something’s off.’

‘Any idea what?’

Connor shook his head. ‘No. On the surface, everything looks great. We’re doing better than ever. It’s just a gut feeling I have.’

‘Have you spoken to the other two about it?’ she asked.

‘Yeah. They just think I’m being paranoid. Maybe I am. There’s always gonna be someone out to take what’s ours, isn’t there? It just feels like a storm is coming.’ He picked up the beers and started to laugh. ‘God, I sound like fucking Mystic Meg, don’t I? Don’t tell them two I said anything. Any excuse to take the piss.’

Grace laughed. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Connor was walking out of the door when he stopped and turned around. ‘What do you think, Grace? You ever just get a feeling about something?’

‘All the time.’

‘And what do you do?’

‘In my experience, Connor, you should always trust your gut.’

‘Thought so,’ he said with a sigh. ‘You coming back in?’

‘Yes. Just clearing up a bit. I’ll be through in a minute.’

He disappeared through the doorway. Grace watched him leave the kitchen and leaned against the breakfast bar. On paper, at least, the boys’ business was doing better than ever. The Blue Rooms was thriving and from the money they were turning over on a monthly basis, all of their other businesses were too. But, much like Connor, she also had an uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was because things seemed to be going a little too well, and she never trusted that. The boys had plenty of enemies. It was a given in their line of work. But no one ever challenged them, at least not overtly, and that made Grace cautious. In her experience, when you were the head of the firm, there was always someone trying to take you down. If there was a rival faction trying to take over their turf, then they were doing it in secret, and that was always more worrying. After all, it was much easier to deal with your enemy when you knew who they were.

Chapter Five

Michael Carter leaned back in the leather chair in his office as one of his head doormen, Jack Murphy, or Murf, as he was more commonly known, sat opposite him relaying a tale about one of the new bouncers being caught shagging one of the barmaids in the disabled toilets the night before.

‘It’s not even like he was on his break, Boss. He was supposed to be watching the room.’

Murf had been a bouncer for over twenty years. He was a professional and he didn’t take kindly to young upstarts taking the piss. Michael was usually slightly more forgiving, but he trusted Murf and allowed him to run his door the way he wanted to.

‘So, what do you want to do about it?’ Michael asked, while suppressing a smile. He could imagine Murf’s face turning a violent shade of purple last night as he burst in on young Carl, with his pants around his ankles and a barmaid’s legs wrapped around his waist. ‘Was the barmaid on her break at least?’

Murf stared at him open-mouthed. ‘What? I don’t fucking know. What the fuck’s that got to do with it?’

Michael couldn’t hide his amusement any longer and burst out laughing.

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Murf said with a laugh. ‘You had me going there.’

‘You need to calm down, Murf. You’ll give yourself a stroke.’

‘It just pisses me off when these cheeky little pricks walk around like they’re God’s fucking gift. They don’t understand that we’re a team, Michael, and every single one of them has a part to play in making sure we all go home in one piece at the end of every night.’

‘So? Are you giving him the boot?’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here. What do you think?’

‘I assume you gave him a good kick up the arse last night and docked his pay?’

‘I gave him more than a kick up the arse,’ Murf replied.

Michael shrugged. ‘Personally, I’d give him another chance and see if he learns his lesson. But it’s your door, Murf. It’s your call. It’s you and the lads he’d be letting down if he fucked up when you needed him, not me.’

Murf shook his head and smiled. ‘You’re just a big softie, really, aren’t ya, Boss?’

Before he could reply, Michael looked up to see Grace walking through the open office doorway.

‘There’s not many people who would have the balls to call my husband a big softie, Murf,’ she said good-naturedly as she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

‘Grace,’ he said, standing up to hug her. ‘I didn’t know you were coming in.’

‘Neither did I,’ Michael said with a smile as he stood up too. She walked over to him and he put an arm around her waist. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’

‘Your dad and Sue wanted to take the kids for a few hours, so I thought I’d drop by and see what was going on,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Can’t bear to be away from the place, eh, Grace?’ Murf said.

‘Nah. She can’t bear to be away from me, that’s all, can you, love?’ Michael said with a wink, before giving her a kiss and offering her his seat.

Grace sat down at the desk. ‘So what on earth has happened to make Murf think that you’re a big softie then?’

Grace listened as Murf relayed the story of Carl the bouncer and the barmaid from the previous night and soon the three of them were laughing so hard, Murf almost fell off his chair.

‘Oh, I do miss this,’ Grace said when they regained their ability to speak. ‘No one can tell a tale quite like you, Murf.’

‘You know you can come back any time you like. Don’t think I don’t know you’re always keeping an eye on me anyway,’ Michael said with a smile.

‘But Oscar—’

‘Oscar would be fine. Try a day or two and see how you feel.’

‘It would be great to have you back, Boss,’ Murf added. ‘Someone to keep this fella on his toes.’ He nodded towards Michael.

‘Maybe I’ll think about it,’ she replied. The truth was Grace was torn over her decision to return to work. As difficult as it was at times to be the one who always had to make the tough decisions, it was a role that she had made her own, and one that she had found harder to let go of than she’d expected. There was no escaping the fact that this was her world and she belonged here, but she was also a mum to two young children whom she adored and wanted to protect from all of the potential dangers in the world. She and Michael had chosen the lives they led, and they had acquired more enemies over the years than she cared to admit. There was no one better equipped to protect her children from harm than she was. But being back at the helm and keeping a watchful eye on Jake and the twins was good for all of their sakes. ‘Maybe in a couple of weeks,’ she added with a faint smile.

‘Whenever you’re ready, love,’ Michael said and kissed the top of her head.

Murf was looking at them both with a smile on his face.

‘What are you fucking grinning at?’ Michael said to him.

‘I’m just glad you two finally came to your senses and got together, that’s all,’ he said.

‘And I’m the big softie? You soppy old bastard,’ Michael said to him good-naturedly.

‘You know me, I’m all heart really, Boss,’ Murf said as he stood up. ‘I’ll give that Carl kid one more chance then. If he fucks up again, he’s had it.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Michael replied.

‘I’ll be off then. I need to sort the lads’ wages. Leave you two lovebirds in peace.’

‘It’s nice to see you, Murf,’ Grace said to him.

‘It’s nice to be seen,’ he replied.

‘Close the door on your way out,’ Michael said.

Murf gave a mock bow as he walked out of the office and closed the door as instructed.

As soon as they were alone, Michael sat on the desk beside Grace and pulled her up into his arms. ‘This is a very nice surprise,’ he said as he brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘I thought the most exciting part of my day today was going to be listening to Murf’s sordid tales of bouncers and barmaids.’

‘Well, I’m happy to be of assistance,’ Grace whispered in his ear. ‘Just what exactly were Carl and that barmaid caught doing again?’

‘Murf already told you,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Weren’t you paying attention?’

‘Obviously not. I was too distracted by how good you look in that suit.’

‘Well, maybe I should give you a practical demonstration?’ he growled in her ear.

‘Hmm, now there’s an idea,’ she replied with a grin as he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Chapter Six

Half an hour later, Grace had said goodbye to Michael and was walking through the offices of Cartel Securities, looking for Murf. She found him in his usual spot in the break room, chatting to Edna the cleaner over a mug of coffee. They both looked up as she walked into the room.

‘Hello, Grace, love,’ Edna said as she approached her and pulled her into a warm hug. ‘Murf mentioned you’d popped in. It’s lovely to see you.’

Grace returned Edna’s hug. ‘Thanks, Edna. It’s good to see you too. How’s things?’

‘Oh, I can’t complain, girl,’ she said with a grin. ‘I’d better get on and finish cleaning this place though. I’m meeting our Marg in the Bingo at two. This fella would keep me gassing for hours.’ She gave Murf a nudge in the ribs.

‘Behave yourself. It’s you can’t stop your nattering, Ed,’ he replied good-naturedly.

Edna giggled like a schoolgirl before fluttering her eyelashes and disappearing in a waft of Chanel N°5.

‘You’re such a bloody flirt, Murf,’ Grace said with a smile.

‘Me? It’s all Edna,’ he protested with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I swear if she were twenty years younger, my Carol would have a fight on her hands.’

Grace sat down at the table opposite him.

‘So, how’s things been, Murf? Other than your bouncers getting caught with their pants round their ankles?’

‘It’s all good, Grace. Business is great. But, you already know that.’ He eyed her suspiciously over the rim of his coffee mug as he took a swig.

Grace nodded. ‘You’ve been working The Blue Rooms?’

‘Yep. I always do.’

‘Anything unusual happened there lately?’

‘It’s a nightclub. Unusual stuff happens there all the time. Are you thinking of anything in particular?’ he replied with a frown.

‘No. I’ve just got a feeling, that’s all. Everything seems to be going a little too well, and you know that makes me twitchy.’

‘I can understand that. But things are ticking along nicely, Boss. And there’s been no bother at the club. Well, nothing out of the ordinary anyway.’

‘Okay. But keep your eye out for anything fishy going on, would you?’ she said as she stood up.

‘Of course, Grace. Always,’ Murf assured her.

‘Thanks.’

Grace said her goodbyes for the second time and left the office. As she climbed into her car, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Was it simply that she was such a stranger to happiness that she couldn’t trust it to last? Or had her conversation with Connor the night before caused the growing uneasiness she was suddenly experiencing? No, she’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. An occasional shiver down the spine as though someone had walked over her grave, or a sudden sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, with no idea where it had come from. At first, she’d put it down to the tiredness of looking after a new-born and a toddler. But her chat with Connor had brought it the fore again. Perhaps she wasn’t just tired? Or perhaps both she and Connor were paranoid for no reason?

Whatever the truth of it, her returning to work was now looking more imminent than she’d expected.

Chapter Seven

Connor Carter sat back in his seat and closed his eyes as his brother Paul drove the two of them home. They each had their own apartment on the same landing of a block on Liverpool’s waterfront.

‘What’s the matter with you tonight, face-ache?’ Paul asked him.

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘You’ve been moody for weeks, Con. I thought a pan of scouse at Grace and Dad’s last night would snap you out of it.’

‘I’m fine,’ Connor said with a sigh.

‘You’re not. Is it this bird you’ve been seeing? Is she giving you grief? Coz if she is, bin her off, lad. She’s fucking married anyway.’

Connor glared at his brother. ‘It’s nothing to do with Jazz.’

‘So, there is something then?’

‘Just fucking leave it, will you, Paul?’

‘Con. It’s me, Bro. You can tell me anything. And you usually do. What’s up?’

They stopped at some traffic lights and Connor felt his twin brother’s gaze burning into him.

‘This had better not be about Isla. Is it?’ Paul asked.

Connor glared at him. ‘Course it’s fucking not. Why would it be?’ he snapped.

‘All right. Keep your fucking hair on.’

‘If you must know, I can’t shake this feeling that something’s about to go down. Something just feels off. I know you and Jake think it’s fucking hilarious when I mention it, but I can feel it, Paul. Someone, somewhere, is fucking us over.’

‘Well, if you think that, let’s do some housekeeping then.’

‘What?’

‘It’s about time we did the rounds and made sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. Might as well start now. It’s only half eight. Phone Jake and tell him to meet us at Eric’s gym.’

After Connor had phoned Jake, he spent the rest of the drive looking out of the window. It was true he did have a bad feeling about something. Maybe it was all the sneaking around with Jazz? The guilt of seeing a married woman? Nope, definitely not that, he decided. He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse or regret about his relationship with Jazz.

As much as he would never admit it to Paul, he had been thinking about Isla a lot. His niece. The daughter of his best mate – Jake. At least that was what everyone thought. But shortly before Isla’s conception, Connor had made an incredibly stupid mistake and screwed Jake’s then girlfriend, Siobhan. She’d announced she was up the duff a few weeks later, and then Jake had married her shortly after. Connor had stood by and let it all play out, knowing there was every chance Siobhan’s baby was his, but unable to say anything because of the huge fallout it would cause in his family. He’d watched one of his best mates marry a woman he didn’t love because he thought it was the right thing to do. Connor had tried to forget about it all, and had convinced himself that the child was Jake’s. He’d only been with Siobhan once – surely the odds were in Jake’s favour.

Then Isla had been born and as soon as he’d seen her, Connor had been convinced that she was his own flesh and blood. He saw her every week at his dad and Grace’s house, and each week he thought about how she was starting to look more and more like him. He wondered how nobody else had noticed the resemblance and lived in constant fear of someone picking up on it and asking awkward questions. He’d tried staying away for a few weeks, but everyone had given him so much grief about missing family Sunday dinners that he’d given up soon after. The guilt of that was what was eating away at him. He was sure it was only a matter of time before someone found out. There was no one he could talk to about it. The possibility that he might be Isla’s father was a secret so explosive he could never let it out. Paul knew about his encounter with Siobhan – he and Connor told each other everything – but it wasn’t a topic that was usually up for discussion. On the odd occasion Connor had brought it up, Paul had shut him down, probably because it made him feel disloyal to Jake, and Connor could understand that, so he’d stopped mentioning it altogether. But keeping it all to himself was killing him. The one person who would know exactly what to do, the one person, apart from his dad, whose advice he sought on almost everything, was Grace. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he could ever risk her finding out.

Chapter Eight

‘Come on, Jake, stop dicking about on your phone and get out here. It’s fucking freezing,’ Connor shouted from the garden of Nipper Jackson’s semi-detached house in West Derby. ‘You said this cunt would be in.’

Jake Conlon grinned as he put his phone into his coat pocket and slammed the car door shut. ‘He is. Trust me. He’s just not expecting a visit tonight, that’s all. He’ll have taken one look at your ugly mugs and barricaded himself in.’

‘Well, it’s definitely about time that we met the elusive Nipper then, isn’t it?’ Connor snapped as he shuffled his feet in the cold. ‘Let’s get in there and tell him to get the fucking kettle on.’

Jake laughed as he walked past Connor and Paul Carter. Using his fist, he banged loudly on the front door. ‘Nipper. It’s Jake,’ he shouted. ‘Let us in, it’s fucking Baltic out here.’

A few seconds later, the sound of heavy bolts being drawn back signalled Nipper had heard Jake’s request. He popped his head around the door and eyed the three of them warily. ‘Sorry, Jake, I didn’t know who it was,’ he mumbled.

‘Not a problem, Nipper,’ Jake said as he pushed past him through the doorway and into the warm house.

Paul and Connor followed him inside while Nipper watched silently.

‘Any chance of a brew, lad?’ Jake asked.

‘Yeah, we nearly froze our nuts off waiting for you to answer the fucking door,’ Connor snapped.

‘Sorry, lads,’ Nipper said again. ‘Course I’ll make a brew. Come through.’ He signalled for them to follow him through to the kitchen as he walked past them.

Nipper filled the kettle and put it on to boil. He looked at the three men sitting in his kitchen. He knew now that the two men he’d never seen before were the Carter twins, and they were as terrifying a sight as their reputation suggested. Nipper only usually dealt with Jake, although he’d been working for all three of them for the past three months. He was their counter – responsible for collecting, counting and distributing all of their considerable cash. They had it coming in from everywhere. Some days he could barely keep on top of it. But he did and he could account for every single penny. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever leave himself open to being accused of robbing from this lot.