The Drop

you did to Bobby and Finney. I’m going to take my time and it’s going to hurt you like you can’t imagine.’ I shoved the point of the machete’s blade right up under his chin. ‘And when I’m done, I’m going to cut your fucking head off, then I’m going to chuck your bodies in with the pigs and they’re going to eat you. There’ll be no fancy funeral for you two.’
    And he started to beg, ‘you can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,’ Who was he to start giving orders, the state he was in? ‘I let you live. I let you live!’
    ‘Yeah you did, and that was your second mistake,’ I told him, ‘your first was trying to take over our city. I’m not going to let you live, you sick piece of shit. Begging and pleading is just a waste of breath but you can do it if you want to,’ he was shaking his head, ‘now I’m going to get started and I’m not going to stop no matter how hard you scream,’ he was screaming already. I’d never seen a man so shit-scared in all my life and he had good cause, because I meant every word. ‘Bobby Mahoney said he’d see you down in hell - so let’s not keep him waiting too long.’
    I got started with the machete then and wee Tommy Gladwell screamed and screamed like you wouldn’t believe.

THIRTY-SIX
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    W e didn’t talk much after that. There was nothing to be said. It was over and we were done - well, almost.
    I called ahead and we got Hunter and Kinane to meet us just south of the border. We took the four bodies out of the boots of our cars. They’d been wrapped in thick, plastic sheeting and we quickly transferred them to the back of Hunter’s old van.
    ‘Just make sure you don’t get stopped for speeding,’ I told Hunter.
    ‘No danger,’ he said, ‘do I know them?’ before adding, ‘just curious like?’
    ‘You know one of them,’ I said. ‘It’s Arthur Gladwell’s eldest, Tommy.’
    ‘Fucking hell.’
    ‘Which is why you are going to make bloody sure they disappear for good.’
    ‘I’ll take them up to the pig farm.’
    It was the obvious destination. Pigs can eat anything. If you need to get rid of flesh and bone, pigs are the best thing when you don’t want to leave a trace.
    ‘There is one other thing I want from you,’ I said. ‘It’s messy though.’
    ‘Right,’
    I told him and he looked a bit sick but he nodded anyway, ‘I guess you know what you are doing. Jesus, how come we are at war with the Gladwells all of a sudden?’
    It was time to tell Hunter what was going on, now that security was no longer an issue. He deserved to know it all if he was going to get rid of the bodies for me. When I’d finished the story he looked like everybody else who’d suddenly learned that Bobby and Finney had been killed; stunned, like the sky had somehow fallen in and nothing would ever be the same again.
    ‘So, are we in the clear now then?’ he sounded doubtful.
    ‘There’ll be no more bother from Tommy or his Russian muscle,’ I assured him, ‘I’ll handle Arthur Gladwell.’
    ‘Christ, he’ll be on the warpath.’
    ‘You let me worry about that.’
    Before he got behind the wheel of his van, Mickey Hunter did a strange thing. He turned back, came towards me and shook my hand respectfully then he said, ‘well done,’ he looked a little surprised like he wanted to add, ‘I never knew you had it in you,’ and that would have been fair enough because neither did I.
    ‘When you’re rid of the bodies go home and wait for me to contact you,’ I told him.
    Seeing Hunter shake my hand, Kinane came over and did it too, ‘it was a good job,’ he said then he glanced towards his sons, giving them their cue. They came over and, one by one, they shook my hand too. Danny walked by and patted me on the back, as if I had just seen off the school bully all by myself and he was proud of me. Palmer watched all the handshakes from some way off. He leaned back against his car and started whistling the theme tune to The Godfather .
    Hunter left first, taking the lorry, with the four bodies in the back, off to the pig farm like he’d promised. Kinane and his lads took a car and followed, to give him a hand and make sure he did what he was told. Palmer, Danny and me headed off in the other one. As we climbed in Palmer started whistling again. This time it was ‘Hail to the chief ’.
    ‘Knock it off,’ I told him.
    We were nearly back in Newcastle when Our-young-’un said,