The Boss

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Tommy nodded. ‘Yeah. He’ll be fine. Have you seen the lad in a scrap? He can look after himself, Ken. Plus, he’s got balls of solid iron.’

‘I know that, it’s just …’

‘Just what?’ Tommy snapped.

Kenny swallowed. ‘Well, Terry’s no mug. And Nathan’s just a kid. I could have gone with him, that’s all.’

‘Listen, Kenny. Nathan is more than capable of handling Terry fucking Barnes. The lad is an animal. And he wanted to sort this himself. He won’t have anyone threatening Grace, or her pub.’

Kenny frowned. ‘But Terry would never threaten Grace. He’s not that stupid. He knows the score.’

‘Yeah. But Nathan doesn’t need to know that. So, Terry never actually threatened her. I embellished a little.’

‘But …’ Kenny started but one look from his boss obviously made him think again and he stopped mid-sentence.

‘Look, this is the perfect opportunity for the kid. Give him a chance to show us what he’s made of. And if Terry Barnes should be wiped off the face of the earth as a result – then all the better. He’s been getting right on my tits lately. Save me topping him myself. He’s been taking far too many liberties and I can’t have it, Ken.’

‘You think Nathan will finish him off then?’ Kenny raised an eyebrow.

Tommy shrugged. ‘Possibly. There’s no saying what that crazy bastard will do. Especially if he thinks Grace is in trouble.’

‘Well I suppose it makes sense, boss.’

‘Of course it makes fucking sense. In a few hours, my Terry problem will be sorted, and I’ll have the true measure of Nathan Conlon.’ Tommy smiled as he downed the last of his Scotch.

Chapter Fifteen (#ulink_22f0cc7e-63db-5a6a-9b6c-49a3b9d9092b)

Nathan slid down the wall of Terry Barnes’s flat as if in slow motion, until he was seated on the floor, legs outstretched in front of him. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst through his ribcage. Holding out his hands in front of him, he blinked as he surveyed the damage. The skin of his knuckles so broken and red he couldn’t tell which blood was his and which was Terry’s. The blood. It was everywhere. Covering his hands. His forearms. A glance down at his clothes confirmed his suspicion that it didn’t stop there – his T-shirt and jeans streaked with violent splashes of red.

Three feet to the left of him lay Terry’s lifeless body. His face unrecognizable from the man who’d opened the door less than half an hour ago. Nathan hadn’t meant to kill him. Things had just got out of control.

Tommy had phoned him earlier; told him it was urgent. Like the dutiful soldier, Nathan had obeyed, thinking it would be his chance to tell Tommy about his plans to manage the Rose and Crown full-time. But then Tommy had told him about Terry.

Terry Barnes was a low-life coke dealer who liked to shout his mouth off and make threats to anyone who’d listen when he’d had a few too many. The fact that he was the nephew of a well-connected city councillor made him think he had a free pass to piss off anyone he fancied, although he was usually smart enough not to mess with people like Tommy – people who didn’t give a flying fuck about his uncle, because they had far more important people in their pockets. But anyone who’d ever had cause to have any dealings with Terry would happily toss him into the Mersey with a pair of concrete wellies if they thought they could get away with it.

He’d been in the pub a few nights earlier, pissed as a fart, making threats to anyone who’d listen and giving Grace a hard time. Nathan had thrown him out and given him a slap for his trouble and thought no more of it, but Terry had other ideas. According to Tommy, he’d been telling anyone who’d listen that the Rose and Crown and its owner were in big trouble. Specifically, he would give that stuck-up bitch who owned the place a good hiding. That revelation had made Nathan’s head almost explode. The thought of Terry fucking Barnes with his hands on Grace – his Grace.

Tommy told Nathan to ‘have a word’and make sure that Terry never darkened the door of the Rose and Crown again. Threatening Grace was personal as far as Tommy was concerned, and he was trusting Nathan to deal with it.

So, Nathan had gone around there straight away, with the intention of giving Terry a good kicking. Maybe breaking some bones. And he would have done just that. But Terry made a fatal mistake. He laughed at him. Called Nathan a nobody. Then he offered to show Grace what a ‘real man’ was.

Nathan had felt a rage like he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He punched a still laughing Terry full force in the face. There was a sickening crunch before Terry dropped to the floor like a sack of spanners. Nathan kept punching him. Over and over. Pummelling the unconscious Terry’s head and face. Releasing all of his pent-up rage. He didn’t stop until his arms ached.

Terry hadn’t stood a chance. No one would underestimate Nathan Conlon ever again.

Wiping his hands on his jeans to remove some of the sticky, congealing liquid, Nathan took the mobile phone from his back pocket and dialled Tommy’s number. His boss answered after three rings.

‘Yeah, kid?’

Nathan didn’t answer. What could he say? He’d fucked up big time. He was supposed to warn Terry off, not turn his face into a plate of chilli con carne. Terry was connected. How the hell was he going to get away with this?

‘Nathan,’ Tommy snapped.

‘I’ve killed him, boss,’ Nathan said quietly.

There was a moment’s silence that felt like it lasted for hours before Tommy laughed. ‘Fucking hell, lad. You don’t mess about, do you?’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, kid. You did good. Stay put and I’ll send some people to sort it out.’

‘Thanks, Tommy. I owe you.’

‘You certainly fucking do.’ Tommy laughed again and hung up the phone.

Nathan sat in the hallway of Terry’s flat. He was no stranger to violence. He’d been around it all of his life. But he’d never killed anyone before. He supposed he should have felt bad somehow. Should have been begging whatever God there was out there for forgiveness. But he didn’t. He felt relief. He’d just beaten a man to death with his bare hands and it felt good. At that moment, he knew he’d never be satisfied just being the manager of a pub. A normal job would never be enough for him. He had a gift. He’d been told that before but now he believed it. And he would use it to make sure no one would dare laugh at him ever again.

Chapter Sixteen (#ulink_faadad0c-c188-58bf-b374-cb32026c84ed)

Present Day

Grace could see the blonde head bobbing up and down in the crowd as Sandra Redman, one-time barmaid of the Rose and Crown, made her way towards her. Sandra was late as usual and she was almost running. Her face broke into a smile when she spotted Grace through the crowd.

‘Grace,’ she beamed and pulled her into a hug. ‘You look lovely – as always.’

‘As do you, Sandra. Married life must suit you.’

Sandra shrugged her shoulders and the two women went inside the busy restaurant. As they were seated by their waiter, Grace could see him eyeing Sandra’s legs as she slid into the booth. Sandra had always been fond of her short skirts. She certainly had the legs for them.

‘How’s Jake?’ Sandra asked.

Grace told her all about his plans for university and how she was hoping he’d get the exam results he needed. ‘And how’s Eddie?’

Sandra rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, his usual charming self. I despair with him, Grace, I really do. He’s nineteen going on forty. He won’t get a job. Treats me like his skivvy. I swear he becomes angrier every day.’

Grace shook her head in sympathy. ‘I’m sure he’ll sort himself out soon, Sandra,’ she tried to reassure her. ‘He’s probably just trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. And at least now he has Richie to look up to.’

Sandra shook her head. ‘Eddie and Richie don’t seem to be getting on at all. They rub each other up the wrong way. Richie just wants a quiet life, but Eddie seems to want to cause World War Three every time he comes through the door. You’re so lucky Jake has his head screwed on.’

‘Jake has just found something he likes to do. I’m sure Eddie will soon, and then he’s bound to settle down a bit.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ she sighed. ‘I’m just afraid of what he will discover he likes doing!’

Jake and Eddie had met a few times when they were younger, but they didn’t get on at all; they were as different as day and night. Sandra and Grace, on the other hand, had a lot in common and were good friends.

They made small talk and caught up on what had been going on in each other’s lives, but Grace knew there was something else on Sandra’s mind. There was a nervousness about her; she fidgeted more than usual and constantly looked at the door.

‘Have you seen him then?’ she asked Grace eventually.

Grace nodded in response. She’d seen him almost every bloody day for the past six weeks. It was maddening, never knowing when he was going to turn up. No doubt it was part of his ploy to remind her exactly who was boss. He had no bloody idea! It would be funny if it wasn’t so annoying.

‘How did it go?’ Sandra asked.

‘Fine,’ she replied nonchalantly. ‘He’s got a new girlfriend now. She seems nice.’ Grace knew Sandra wouldn’t ask her what she really wanted to know, so she told her. ‘Don’t worry, Sandra. I would never tell him about you and Eddie. He doesn’t know. I swear.’

Sandra blushed. ‘I know you wouldn’t tell him. Thanks, Grace, it’s just that he terrifies me.’

Grace smiled at her. ‘Well I know that feeling,’ and they both laughed.

After they ordered their meal from the waiter, Sandra slipped a small envelope across the table to Grace. ‘Here’s that information you asked for,’ she said quietly.

Placing the envelope in her handbag, Grace smiled at her companion. ‘Thanks, Sandra. I really appreciate it.’

‘Any time, Grace. I’m glad I can help.’

‘I wish you’d let me pay you for your trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble, honestly. I’m happy to help you out. I told you, no one questions anything I do. I’ve been there longer than everyone else so I’m pretty much given free rein. And our IT systems are so antiquated there’s no way to tell what information is accessed.’

‘Well at least let me treat you to dinner,’ Grace said.

‘Deal,’ Sandra smiled.

Grace watched her friend as she tucked into her prawn linguine and felt a brief pang of guilt. She knew Sandra would do anything for her. Their history was a complicated one and it was one which allowed Grace to call in a favour whenever she needed to. It made Grace wonder at the woman she’d become. Manipulating her friendship with Sandra for her own ends. There was a time she’d never have even contemplated such a thing. But that was before Nathan. Before he’d taught her how to be just like him.

Sandra was a receptionist in a doctor’s office and had access to a wealth of NHS data. She’d provided Grace with information before and she was under the impression Grace used it to thoroughly vet her employees. But in fact, Grace used it as a means to gain an advantage over her rivals – whether it be an address to trace someone who’d gone on the missing list or finding out someone’s health or personal issues, to manipulate a weak spot. The possibilities were endless once you knew what to look for.

The envelope in Grace’s handbag was going to help Patrick negotiate a new business deal with an old rival of Nathan’s, Kevin Mitchell. Kevin was as arrogant and as ruthless as Nathan, but he’d never quite been able to reach the top of his game like Nathan had. With Nathan sniffing around wanting to know who had the monopoly on supplying drugs to the vast majority of clubs in Liverpool, Grace had realized it might be helpful to bring in a business partner. Someone who could be the face of the operation. If Nathan wanted to go to war over it, then he could go to war with Kevin, who had a small army of hired thugs at his disposal. The outcome of which wouldn’t matter much to Grace. Kevin’s and Nathan’s firms could battle it out to the death as far as she was concerned. But she’d get the lion’s share of the profits with none of the aggravation.

Grace didn’t like to use the term blackmail, but the fact she had evidence that Kevin’s mistress had recently aborted his child, would certainly make the negotiations with Kevin much smoother. If his wife, Mel, ever found out about his extramarital dalliances, she’d string him up in Liverpool city centre by his balls, for the whole world to see.

Chapter Seventeen (#ulink_e3421b8e-8930-5640-b40b-8b7afd77bdd6)

Squinting in the evening sunlight, Nathan pulled his sunglasses from the glovebox of his car. He was parked on a side road, with a clear view of Antonelli’s restaurant on the high street, hoping to catch Grace when she came out. He’d called at the Rose and Crown to look for her earlier and had tried his best to hide his disappointment when Jake told him where she’d gone. She was meeting a friend apparently. With nothing else to do, Nathan decided it wouldn’t hurt to find out just who this friend was.

He’d never been to Antonelli’s. It was a new Italian, owned by Sean Carter of all people. Nathan frowned as he realized it was probably no coincidence Grace was choosing to eat at Sean’s place. She seemed to have some connection to the Carter family that he couldn’t quite get to the bottom of.

It looked like a nice place. All chrome and glass and fancy signage. Apparently, it was a new Liverpool hotspot. Nathan had no idea how Sean had managed to walk away from his former life and open a string of restaurants, but he was seemingly squeaky clean these days. Where had he found the capital for his business venture? He must have had a backer, but who?

Sean and his brother Michael had been arrested as part of the operation that saw Nathan doing twelve years inside. He knew that the brothers had lost everything, just as he had. Their houses, cars, money. Proceeds of crime, apparently. Not that Nathan’s losses could be explained away so easily. Over a million he’d had stashed in his lock-up from the job they’d been working on, had mysteriously disappeared – apparently. Nathan knew exactly who’d taken it. The thieving, scumbag, bizzies. There was no way they couldn’t have found that in his lock-up. They put on a good show though. For all outward appearances, they appeared to be scratching their heads looking for it, and he could hardly say anything, could he? The money he’d paid that shower of cunts over the years and they still saw fit to rob him blind.