Payback Time 9 ( Temper)

Frank McGinley knew that by now, Paul Fletcher would know he was looking after Terry Murphy; he decided it was time he made contact. He called Paul.

“Good evening Paul, it’s Frank here, sorry to call so late, but it’s about Terry Murphy.”

“Hello Frank, yes I heard he came to see you today.”

There was always a tension when the two of them spoke, they hated each other with a passion but neither, up until now, wanted to get involved in a postcode war.

“ I just wanted to set the record straight Paul, I’ve known Terry for a long time and quite understandably he was a bit anxious when he came out, he’s asked me to try and sort out a deal between the two of you so we can all live happily ever after.”

Frank laughed as he said the last few words. Paul didn’t.

“My brief is talking to his brief and we’re trying to sort something out, I thought he could have a couple of the shops or launderettes just to get him started, with the assurance that he doesn’t try to take things over, if he does Frank, then of course all bets are off”

“Totally understand Paul, that’s very fair and generous of you, I’ll talk to him as well and try to persuade him to do the sensible thing, everything’s going splendid at the moment for all of us so we don’t want anything to upset the apple cart now do we?”

“That’s exactly how I see it Frank, goodnight.”

Paul hung up, and immediately threw his crystal glass whiskey tumbler against the wall of the snooker room; it shattered into hundreds of small pieces.

Paul’s temper got the better of him, he started shouting.

“Does he think I am some kind of cunt? Strike a deal my arse, he wants the fucking lot always has, I know what you’re up to you Irish fucker, if it’s a war you want then you’ve got one, you and your fucking leprechaun pikey sons, you should all be in the fucking circus, I never wanted North London but you know what, fuck it, I’ll take it, just like I took East”

He called Ross.

“Be at my gaff at nine o’clock tomorrow morning; bring a list of all the boys that we can rely on, good boys, no wankers”

“What’s happening Paul, why the urgency?”

“I’ve decided it’s time we expanded the business, branched out, took over some new turf, understand?”

“Ok, I’ll be there”

Paul hung up.

He was aware of another mobile ringing from behind the bar in the snooker room, he answered it.

“Yeh?”

“Look Paul, I’ve never refused a job before, never, especially from you, but Murphy’s with the Irish, there’s no way I can get to him and even if I did I’d be signing my own death warrant”

“You spineless cunt, after everything I’ve done for you, if it’s the money, I’ll double it.”

“Paul it’s not the money not this time, but the word is out, anyone touches Murphy then it’s goodnight Vienna.”

Paul launched the mobile across the room; it hit the snooker scoreboard and fell to the floor in pieces.

He needed to calm down but his heart was racing, his head was throbbing, no one refused him, no one, all of this because of Terry Murphy, he needed to make a statement and make it fast let everyone know who was boss, fucking Irish saying no one could touch Murphy who the fuck did they think they were, this was his patch and Murphy was in his area.

He called Ross again.

“Find out where Terry Murphy’s brother is and take him out, I want it done by the morning”

“Whooah, Paul, think about it, not a good move that would be like…”

Paul interrupted, he was shouting and Ross decided not to say anything else.

“Don’t argue with me on this Ross, get one of the scag heads to do it, promise them as much gear as their scum bag body can take, but do it tonight, I want him gone by the morning”

Paul hung up. He took a small container from his trouser pocket, flicked out two small tablets, crunched and swallowed. He sat back in his leather chair and closed his eyes, he needed some shut eye, the whiskey had started to kick in and within a few seconds he was in a deep sleep.

He was woken by the sound of his mobile ringing; he looked at his watch, two forty five. It was Ross.

“It’s done”

“Where?”

“He stayed in the Oporto till two then decided to walk home, he was pissed, just a mugging that went too far”

“Who was the scag?”

“A nobody, we’ll sort him later, overdose probably, he’ll be found with Murphy’s watch and wallet”

“We had to show them Ross, had to be done”

“You’re the boss”

Paul hung up, smiled to himself then nodded off again.

He woke at eight o’clock, his mobile was ringing and the buzzer for the electric gates outside was driving him mad.

He answered the mobile first. It was Tony from the Range Rover keeping watch opposite the house.

“Paul it’s Tone, there’s two old bill ringing your buzzer”

“Ok, no worries, it’s fine”

Paul knew this would be routine, they would have to ask him some questions about Terry’s brother, he was at home all evening, he could produce witnesses if necessary, not that he would need to, Cornwell would sort everything out, he always did.

He answered the buzzer and spoke on the intercom.

“OK, OK, come on in boys, I’ll put the kettle on”

He went to the bathroom, splashed some water onto his face and through his hair. There was a knock on the door.

“Ok, I’m coming, for fuck’s sake, hang on”

He loved these challenges, they knew he couldn’t be touched and so did he, but they had to go through the procedure. He opened the door.

“Mister Fletcher?”

Two young fresh faced coppers stood before him.

“Come in lads, what can I do for you, always happy to help my local police force”

His house phone rang, that was unusual, everyone rang him on one of his mobiles.

“Hold on lads, let me get this first”

He answered the call.

“Hello Mister Fletcher, DCI Cornwell here, sorry to call you so early”

Paul knew something was wrong, Cornwell never called his house phone, then he saw the smashed mobile on the floor of the snooker room and realised why; Cornwell was being formal just in case the phone was tapped.

“Yes DCI Cornwell how can I help?”

“It’s about a friend of yours, Miss Kathy Martin, she’s been involved in a burglary, I have sent two officers over to you to explain, they should be there anytime”

For the first time in years Paul wasn’t sure what to say, the only words he could utter were.

“Is she ok?”

“I’m afraid she’s in a bad way Mister Fletcher, she’s been raped and beaten and she’s in Queens Hospital in Romford”

Paul dropped the phone.