Payback Time 11 ( Goodbye Terry)

The car park was busy at Asda at seven o’clock, but not by the re-cycling bins. They were in the corner as far away as possible from the entrance, no one parked there.

Ross and Paul were parked up in the Range Rover waiting for DCI Cornwell.

“He’s late, I pay the cunt a fortune and he’s late.”

“It’s only just seven Paul, give him a break.”

“I’ll give him a break alright; I’ll break his fucking nose if he doesn’t hurry up.”

A black Mondeo pulled up alongside. Cornwell got out and opened the back door of the Range Rover and made himself comfortable on the back seat.

“So Paul, what’s the plan, why the meet?”

As with all these situations, there was a procedure, Paul said nothing. Ross took charge.

“Did you find the scag head?”

“Yeh, he was brown bread, overdosed but had all the evidence on him, so the case will be closed within a day or so, no need to look any further, job done.”

“And what about Murphy?”

Cornwell laughed.

“What the dead one or the other one?”

Now Paul turned round and looked at Cornwell.

“Don’t be smart you cunt, Terry Murphy, what’s happening with him?”

Cornwell felt as though his bowels were about to explode, he knew the look; he’d seen it before with Fletcher, normally just before he went berserk.

“No, Paul, I meant nothing by it, just wondered what Murphy you were talking about, anyway, Terry is in the Radisson on the island, Frank’s son Malachi is looking after him, they’re keeping him safe just in case.”

“Case of what?”

Again Cornwell wasn’t sure what to say.

“Err I suppose in case someone tries to get at him?”

“Like me?”

There was a silence. Ross broke it.

“Make sure we know everything that happens with Terry Murphy, as soon as he’s on the move, you let us know, you understand?”

“Yeh sure Ross, we’ve got two guys watching the hotel, so as soon as we know, you’ll know.”

Paul leaned over to Cornwell; his face was now only inches away.

“Don’t fuck this up, if you do, I’ll fuck you up, badly. Now fuck off.”

Cornwell got out of the car. Ross and Paul drove away.

Paul looked at Ross.

“He is such a cunt.”

“Yeh but he’s a useful cunt sometimes!”

The two of them laughed.

Paul went back to the Hospital, Kathy was still no better but no worse. He stayed the night and fell asleep in the waiting room. Ross went home to his house in Upminster to see his wife and Kathy’s son Billy.

At five forty five the next morning Terry Murphy made his way down the back stairs of the Radisson Hotel and into a waiting car, beside him was Malachi McGinley.

“Soon have this sorted out Mister Murphy, then we can all get back to normal, but just in case.”

He handed Terry a gun and smiled.

“Just in case, we all have to be prepared.”

“Thanks Mal, we all know what a slippery cunt that Fletcher is, where we meeting him?”

“At the old Spillers Building in Silvertown, it will be empty this time of the morning and we’ve slipped the night security a few bob so there’s no one about, but it’s just the two of you that was the deal, we’ll drop you and wait.”

“What about your Dad, will he be there?”

“Yes Mister Murphy but he won’t get involved, it’s between you and Fletcher, don’t worry, Dad won’t allow it to get out of hand.”

Terry felt relieved; he knew that no one fucked with Frank McGinley, not even Paul Fletcher.

The car pulled into the old Spillers yard at the disused dockyard in Silvertown. Terry Murphy got out of the car and walked towards the old Warehouse. The car drove away.

A single shot hit him in the face, his cheekbone tore apart and the whole left side of his face collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Three hundred yards away a small middle aged man put a rifle into the boot of his car and drove away.