What a Country (eBook)

Paul Kirby (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
304 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-0983-8464-7 (ISBN)

Infos

Her Majesty's Government of the United Kingdom has put members of the British gangster society in charge of a terrorist initiative-mainly to protect their own interests. Their target? An ISIS cell built for one purpose only: chaos, death, and destruction. A Scotland Yard Inspector must now persuade Joey Dell and his West London boys that this proposal is their patriotic duty. However, it won't be easy. The two men have history, and they come from very different worlds. A thrilling story unfolds around a betting scam, drug deals, and the need for vengeance-and maybe a pint or two at a London suburban pub!

Textauszug

Chapter 1

On his release, having served three years of a five-year sentence, Joey Dell was determined he would never spend another day in prison. This one had felt like a ten stretch. What had really got to him this time was the ease with which Islamic extremists seemed able to convert cons to their ideology.

Dell was fifty-two and about five foot ten. He had dark brown hair with a very slight hint of grey and a scar to the side of his left eye that carried along down the side of his nose. He also had a scar in the middle of his forehead where he had been gashed with a broken bottle. He was well built, not fat, and menacing in appearance.

Waiting as Dell walked out of the prison gates was his longtime friend and local bookmaker Albert Kinsley, on hand to give Dell a ride home as he had done so many times before. Albert was a good few years older than Dell at sixty-nine, with grey hair. He had a big Chelsea smile of a scar that ran more or less from ear to ear and a big beer belly to match. But most people probably knew him by his distinguishable rough, gruff, booming voice.

Everyone knew when Albert was in the building. He and Dell had been friends since Dell was a youngster visiting one of Albert’s shops. Albert had a betting shop on the High Street just down the road from the pub the boys now frequented, which was owned by Dell’s old school pal, “Mucky” Mickey Staines. The pub was a favourite with Dell’s villainous mates and Albert’s punters alike, so it sat well with both men. However, for whatever reason, while Dell was inside Mickey had gotten a business partner named Bill Winters and that was going to complicate things in the future.

Dell had left a large amount of cash with Mickey, which had been kept in the safe. This was not uncommon, as Mickey was “safe as houses” and one of Joey’s most trusted pals. He had been looking after the gang’s money on and off for years.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries and greetings, Dell explained to Albert about the radicalisation going on in jail and how he had no intention of making any return visits of any kind. He was actually thinking of getting a real job and going completely straight. Albert didn’t believe a word of it and responded by telling Dell all about Mickey’s new partner and how he loved a punt on the nags and how much money he generally lost. Dell’s answer to that was, “Well, let’s drop into Mickey’s and have a couple and catch up with the news.”

“Also,” replied Albert, “there’s a right pair of idiots just started using the pub, Dick and Bart Durley.”

“Are they brothers?” asked Dell.

“No, worse! They’re a father and son double act. A right win double, You’ll spot ‘em quick enough, Joey, my son. You’ll smell the bullshit straight away.”

“No! No! I’ve had a bellyful of that over the last few years. So just make sure you keep the cunts away from me.”

“They’ll be all over you,” Albert laughed.

“Durley, eh? That name rings a bell. Well, are we having a few today, Big Burt?” Albert was commonly referred to as Burt, after his shop, Big Burt the Bookmaker’s (not to be mixed up with Bart).

“‘Course we are. Got Baz and Tel coming to meet us in the pub about one-ish with my son and whoever else decides to show their face,” said Albert with a big grin on his big scarred-up face.

“Good, ‘cause I need to go back to my flat and get cleaned up and get the horrible smell of prison off me for the last time,” Dell replied.

Back at his flat Dell quickly showered and got a fresh change of clothes and then off they headed toward Mickey’s for a meet-up with the “boys” for a beer or two and a quick catch-up— also to arrange a proper business meeting with his partners in crime, Barry Ronald Richards, known as “Ice Cold” and that’s not just because his initials were BRR, and Terry “Torrial” Funnel. Dell also wanted to make sure his money was still safe with Mickey and to start making plans to get it back out earning. Albert informed Dell he was also holding money in his safe at Big Burt’s for the boys, which he understood Dell also had a share of.

Waiting at the bar when they arrived were Ice Cold and Torrial with a greeting of “Flowery, how are ya?”

“Flowery” was a slang term for cell, a friendly reminder of Dell’s time spent in one. Handshakes, back slapping, smiles, jokes, stories, and everything else were in abundance that day as the boys were reunited. The whole mob filed in over the course of the afternoon and when he got the chance, “Flowery” mentioned the money in the safe. Mickey assured him that it was safe and well and that he hadn’t laid a finger on it. Happy days!

The Durleys were standing on their own at the other end of the bar and could see that a bit of a gangland gathering had emerged in their new local. They wanted to be a part of it. They had heard loads of stories from others about this little firm and Dell in particular and were chomping at the bit to get acquainted with him. “Yeah, this could be a life-changer for me and my son,” Dick muttered to himself.

Age sixty-five, Dick was nearly bald with darkish greying hair that was very thin and wispy. He had a medium build with a proper beer gut and a vacant look about his slightly pockmarked face. He also had a distinct, annoyingly high-pitched voice that had earned him the name “Squeaky” and had contributed to his unpopularity with just about everyone who had ever met him.

“You what?” Bart asked his dad.

“Ah, nothing, just thinking to myself. Another drink, son.”

“‘Another drink, son?’ Thought we were going.”

“Well, see that lot over there? I think we should hang about a bit and see what happens. ‘Cause if we play our cards right, we could be on a nice little earner,” Dick stated in his most irritating voice. He meant well, but just couldn’t put it into effect. In reality, he was a no-good, cheating, lying nonce who had spent his whole life trying to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes!

Dick and Bart moved along the bar and tried to listen in on what was being said, partly to see if there might be a business opportunity, and partly to see if they might get to find out something incriminating that they could use to their own advantage should such an occasion arise.

Bart was slimly built with thinning wispy ginger hair very similar to his father’s. He was also slightly pockmarked around his nose, a result of mild acne as a teenager. Along his left eyebrow ran a small scar caused by a friend with a golf club in an innocent accident during secondary school, although Bart liked to brag that he got it in a fight during the football violence years. He was soft-spoken with a face that had thinned due to drug abuse. He was six feet tall.

As the Durleys manoeuvred themselves into a good position, in walked Gerry Funnel, the twin brother of Terry. He joined the Durleys at the bar. Gerry used to work for Dell and company, but Dell wasn’t keen on him at all and had never trusted him in the slightest. Flowery was a bit of a homophobe, to say the least, and as Gerry was a regular crack cocaine user and a user of every other narcotic for that matter, Dell felt he was neither reliable nor to be trusted in stressful situations. He also talked too much. This was probably why he had gotten friendly with Bart Durley recently as Bart was also a regular user and very convincing with his bullshit stories. They seemed a good match. When Dell spotted Gerry, he was not pleased to see him. He leaned over to whisper into Big Burt’s ear: “What’s that cunt doing here? And who are those smarmy-looking twats with him?”

Albert looked along the bar and said, “Fucking hell, Joe, that’s them Durley pricks I was telling you about this morning and they were at the other end of the bar twenty minutes ago.”

“So what are they doing with that batty boy?” asked Dell.

“Dunno. Didn’t even know they knew each other. Best watch what we say from now on—that’s a win treble there that is of no effing good to us at all.”

Now seemed a perfect opportunity for Dell to say he was looking to get back into work. Dick Durley’s ears pricked up when he heard Dell say he was looking for a job, although Dick didn’t know at that precise moment the man who had said it was the infamous Joey “Flowery” Dell. Dick paused and thought to himself that when the opportunity arose, he would introduce himself to the man. The Durleys had heard the odd story and rumour here and there, but neither one of them knew who Dell was. That was until Gerry told them. Now both were even more eager to introduce themselves and to offer Dell some work, perhaps cleaning people’s homes, offices, or even windows.

For the rest of the day, Dell managed to avoid the dreaded Durleys, who eventually both sloped off home, thinking there was always tomorrow. As they exited the pub, in walked a very stressed-looking Bill Winters, Mickey’s new partner. He was a wiry individual with big ears, a long nose, a sallow complexion, and drawn cheekbones. He seemed to have a permanent downtrodden look about him that said, “Nobody loves me.” Bill and Mickey had worked...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 28.6.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-10: 1-0983-8464-4 / 1098384644
• ISBN-13: 978-1-0983-8464-7 / 9781098384647