The Drop

sent there, not with all the atrocities the rebels were prepared to commit but my boys here? Well, it was manna from heaven to them. They loved it. When they caught one of those rebels they’d cut off his ears, his nose, his dick, while he was still alive’ and he laughed. ‘I’m not kidding you,’ I believed him, ‘then they’d leave him somewhere his mates would find him - because they knew that the greatest weapon you can have is fear. You’re going to understand that by the time you leave here.’
    By now I was starting to hope I’d end up like Northam and not Finney. That seemed my best option; to tell Tommy Gladwell whatever it was he wanted to know and hope they’d had enough of inflicting pain for one day. Then it would all be over.
    Gladwell wasn’t finished showing off. I guess he’d been waiting a long time to show the world how clever he was. ‘They were just the right people to help me take over a city. My dad wouldn’t have the stomach for it. He’s too old and has no ambition any more. I’m different. I’m expanding our business and you lot, well, you’re in the way. My boys have been watching Bobby and his whole crew for months but we had one big problem; Finney. If we took out Bobby’s enforcer and left Bobby around he’d be well on his guard wouldn’t he? But we couldn’t get rid of Bobby and leave Finney on the streets. No way. That would be far too dangerous. I couldn’t imagine Finney seeing sense and throwing his lot in with us. No, he was too stupid for that. Trouble was, you rarely saw them together these days, Finney and Bobby. But then, lo and behold, a miracle; Finney moved into Bobby’s house,’ his smile was broad, ‘can you imagine how we felt when we heard that? Was it your idea? I bet it was. It would have been a good one too, if your enemy was a couple of hard knocks from Glasgow but I’ve got five heavily-armed former members of the Spetsnaz on my payroll.’
    Five? I’d seen four. I wondered where the fifth was hiding.
    ‘What do you want from me?’
    ‘What can you give me? Go on, convince me, tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you. You might be begging me to kill you in an hour when I let these lads at you. You see, they really enjoy their work.’
    I shook my head. I didn’t know what the hell he wanted and I had no idea what information I could give him that he didn’t already have.
    ‘That cunt Mahoney,’ he hissed it angrily, ‘wouldn’t even shake my hand when he came to see my father. No respect,’ he told me, ‘well I think he respects me now don’t you?’
    Tommy was pacing up and down now, tight lipped, like the memory of the humiliation was fresh in his mind, ‘you shook my hand. I remember that. You were the only one who did and that is the reason you are still alive, for now.’
    That gave me an insight into the man we were up against. A forty year old with the chronic lack of self-esteem you get from living your whole life in the shadow of your old man. Tommy Gladwell hadn’t been allowed to order a cab without running it passed his daddy first and now he was going to take us all down. Yet I was still alive, for now, because of a handshake.
    ‘Where’s Bobby,’ I asked him again, ‘what have you done with him?’
    ‘He’s in there,’ said Gladwell and he jerked his head towards the next room. Vitaly shoved me out of the room we were in and up against the door of the next one.
    ‘Open it,’ he ordered.
    I pushed the heavy wooden door and it creaked open. I was peering into the darkness of a gloomy store room but I couldn’t see anything, ‘Bobby?’ I called.
    Silence.
    Vitaly pushed me into the room and turned on the light. At first I thought the figure in the chair was dead or unconscious, the body slumped, the silver hair streaked with blood from a blow to the skull. ‘Bobby?’ I called again and the head slowly came up.
    Bobby Mahoney had been tied to his chair just like the others. I reckoned that was the only thing keeping him upright. His head lolled back again, he looked drugged or maybe it was just the effect of the beating they’d given him.
    ‘Bobby,’ I said it again, quieter this time, willing him to say something back to me but it was all he could manage just to return my gaze.
    Gladwell was at my side, ‘I’m going to give you a chance boy,’ he told me, ‘just one, so think fast.’ Vitaly gave an order in Russian and one of his men handed Gladwell his Makarov, the Soviet era military pistol