Brutal Retribution Read online

  At that the phone went dead, Demaci had hung up.

  Hamiti, went into the bedroom and dressed. Light blue jeans and a dark blue polo shirt were the order of the day. On his feet were his white Reebok trainers, very eighties looking, but we all know, some fashions never die.

  He then went downstairs to where the Range Rover was parked and headed to the Westernside council estate to have a visit with Mrs Sally Oldham and her family.

  Sally was the first to wake. For the second morning in a row, she’d woken to find that she’d shared the bed with little Charlie and Georgia. In fact, last night it had been her that had put them both into the big bed so that Paul and Mike could use the kids bunks to sleep on.

  She put on her bathrobe and quietly crept barefoot downstairs to put the kettle on, surprised to find it had already boiled and Paul was sat there with a big mug of steaming tea and not the slightest sign of a hangover.

  ‘What you doin up so early?’ Sally asked the big lad.

  ‘Hey, I’m always up early sis, you know that. Usually awake by half six at the latest. There’s tea in the pot, ah, but your one of them posh mornin’ coffee drinkers in’t yeh? Anyway, water in the kettle should still be hot.’

  Sally made herself a Nescafe in her ‘MAM’ mug and sat opposite her big brother.

  ‘Who do you think it was came in the house last night then if it wasn’t a mate of Oggy’s?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not a hundred percent Sal, but I got a really bad feelin’ it could be someone that works for a man called Demaci and if that’s the case, then Charlie’s in the best bloody place. Oggy musta fucked up big time if Demaci the Albanian’s become involved.’

  Paul took the time to carefully explain to his little sister the pyramid of power that evolved around the underworld trade in the Seaborough area, with Demaci up at the pointy bit and Oggy way down at the bottom somewhere. He further explained how much more serious it had all become and why he believed Charlie might now have had the better option.

  ‘It’s all to do wi’ them drugs and money int it?’ Sally asked.

  ‘It’s the only thing I can think of, unless that useless fat twat of a husband of yours has been up to more naughty stuff that he shouldn’t a been doin’. I’ll be honest wi’ yeh Sal, I never thought the fat fuck had that much energy in ‘im, he’s well fuckin’ impressed me.’

  Mike surfaced half an hour later, looking like death.

  ‘I don’t know why I try to keep up with ‘im pint for pint, he’s got hollow fuckin’ legs, an’ look at ‘im, ready to start the fuckin’ day an’ here I am totally fuckin’ knackered.’

  Sally and Paul laughed, then Sally put a brew in front of Mike and not long after he started to come around.

  ‘Right then folks, wha’ we doin t’day then?’ said Paul.

  ‘Well I’m goin to go ‘ome for a shower, shave an’ a whatsit, then to our Mams for a nice Sunday roast. What yeh think? are yeh comin?’

  Sally and Mike thought it was just what the doctor ordered. Sally being the elected spokesperson phoned their Mam and told her to expect company. Mam was over the moon to have her family coming over for lunch and couldn’t wait to see them all. Mike and Paul left to get ready and they all agreed to be there at Mam and Dads house for one in the afternoon.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Mad Arrie woke with the sunrise. He’d spent last night in the old barn of a derelict farmhouse on the outskirts of town and a most peaceful and comfortable night it was.

  Before settling down, he’d managed to rustle up some cooked chicken pieces and fried vegetables with noodles found in a used food bin outside the back of a Chinese restaurant. He’d crammed it all into his new bag, which, since obtaining it the morning before had not been taken off his shoulder or even used.

  ‘I knew this would be useful,’ he said out loud to nobody in particular.

  As it was breakfast time and he should be on his way soon, he opened the bag and removed the food morsels. Licking his fingers clean of any remaining grease or food particles. Then he happened upon the original contents of the bag.

  Oh, my goodness. Having been an accountant, he couldn’t help himself and he counted the money with no interest at all in the little white plastic parcels which were left remaining in the bottom of the bag. No, it was only the money that interested Mad Arrie this sunny Sunday morning, all twenty four thousand seven hundred and sixty five pounds of it.

  Then Mad Arrie had a ponder.

  ‘I’ve got no possible use for the drugs and as for the money, I left all that behind me five years ago and I’ve been so much happier since. I have no real use for the money either to be fair.’

  And so Mad Arrie decided that he should get rid of it all. He could either give it away, bury it, or even put it all back where he got it from, minus the bag of course, but he definitely didn’t want it.

  After much thought and consideration, Mad Arrie was of the opinion he was not a thief as such. Yes, to take the bag might be considered stealing, but if he was to give the contents back, then surely that would be an honourable thing to do. Based on that early morning ponder and supplied with an alternative to being classified a thief, Mad Arrie collected his items and packed up, preparing to return the borrowed goods back to the rightful owner.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  After lunch, Sally helped Mam clear the table and wash the dishes, while all the men folk sat in the front room finishing their cans of lager, watching rugby league highlights on the television. The kids had gone outside to play in the back garden, Sally felt as though it was safe enough to let them out at her mam’s house.

  Mam asked if everything was going alright and had Charlie been in touch, but Sally wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted more than anything to tell her mam the whole truth but knew at this stage it wasn’t possible. Mam and Dad would want to wrap them all up to protect her and the kids, but big brothers Paul and Mike were already doing that, so she just said.

  ‘I don’t think Charlie’s gonna be coming back Mam. I think he’s maybe got hiself into big trouble with some really bad lads and gone on the run somewhere. I’ve had that Oggy round lookin’ for him a few times and he’s not answering his phone or owt, but I think he may ‘ave done a runner wi’ whatever he took from him.’

  ‘Well that’s the best news I’ve heard all day our Sally and good riddance I say. I expect your dad will agree wi’ me as well.’

  ‘I know Mam, but what about the kids, it is their dad at the end of the day.’

  ‘The kids’ll be fine, you’ll see pet. Believe me they’re resilient and a lot better off wi’ out a father the likes of ‘im and you’re much better off by a thousand percent wi’ out ‘im as an ‘usband. He were a fat useless bag of tripe that lad and I’ll be glad to see the back of ‘im, good riddance I say.’

  Sally felt much better having sort of told Mam what had gone on. The whole story would have been far too disturbing for both her parents to comprehend and she didn’t feel at this time there was any need for the whole truth, hopefully there never would be.

  Sally and her mam had a pot of tea in the kitchen while the lads were watching the end of the game, then she gathered the kids up and said it was time to be going home.

  There were big hugs and kisses all round and Sally said she would call in the next day once she got the bairns to school. She told Paul and Mike to call in when they were passing and headed out the door to go home two roads away.

  The kids were in a great mood and when Sally thought about it, they had been since their dad had left. Maybe Mam was right, they were better off without him.

  As she came into Frazer Avenue Sally noticed the white van that had been parked there for some time now. She knew it didn’t belong to any of the neighbours, everyone knew everybody else’s business in Westernside. As she turned to walk up the path, she noticed the big man in the passenger seat was the same one that had been found in her house and she shuddered, hurrying the kids straight in the front door, slamming it
hard behind her.

  She then immediately called Paul on her mobile,

  ‘Hya pet, yeh can’t be missing us already, you’ve only been gone ten minutes, what’s up?’

  ‘Paul, we just come up our path and that big man we found in the house last night, is parked in a white van with another man over the road watchin’ us.’

  ‘Right Sal, Mike and me’ll be straight round, pet.’

  Within two minutes the brothers arrived running and out of breath with the exertion of a big roast dinner, two cans of lager each and a jog. They didn’t knock but came straight in the door and looked secretly like nosey neighbours through the front blinds.

  As they were looking a black Range Rover pulled up behind the white van and a very nondescript man wearing pale blue jeans and white trainers got out and spoke to the driver. After several minutes of conversation, the man in the jeans pointed to Sally’s house and then approached the front door.

  Sally and her brothers heard the knock and after Paul nodded for her to answer, Sally cautiously pulled the door open.

  ‘Yes, can I help you?’ Sally said formally,

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Oldfield, yes?’

  ‘That’s right, what can I do for yeh.’

  ‘Good, good, yes you can please tell me your husband Charlie Oldfield’s whereabouts?’

  ‘I’m sorry but who are yeh?’

  ‘It’s not really important who I am, suffice to say I wish to speak to your husband.’

  ‘Well he’s not here and I don’t know when he’ll be back, are you a friend of that Oggy? Cos, I already told him all of this.’

  ‘No, I am no friend of Oggy’s, in fact you could say the opposite and I can assure you, he will not be bothering you at all in the future. The problem I have is that Oggy entrusted your husband Charlie Oldfield with something that belongs to my employer and my employer is keen to have his property returned immediately. So as you might understand, I’m rather keen to speak with your husband.’

  ‘Well then, I really can’t help yeh ‘cause like I keep telling everyone that asks, I don’t fuckin’ know where he is. So now do you understand me?’

  The back hander came out of nowhere and landed right in the middle of Sally’s face knocking her back into the kitchen. Paul was the first to react with Mike right behind him.

  Hamiti wasn’t expecting Paul to be as big and sturdy as he was, but it really didn’t pose such a great threat. Paul came rushing out of the front door totally unprepared. Hamiti on the other hand was well prepared and relaxed, breaking Pauls nose first, then landing several rabbit punches to the kidneys dropping him on his knees like a sack of potatoes. Mike flew out the door and after several taps, punches and kicks was laid alongside his big brother.

  Hamiti then walked to the front door and called back in to Sally,

  ‘Please Mrs Oldham, consider this the one and only warning I will ever give to you and your family. Get a message to your husband, we want our property back immediately. He has twenty four hours and please, have a very pleasant day.’

  Hamiti then turned and walked away, without a hair out of place.

  Sally ran outside to try and help her brothers to their feet whilst holding her own nose from bleeding. They all managed to get inside and shut the door going straight into the kitchen where Sally handed out tea towels to staunch the bleeding from Pauls nose. Mike didn’t appear to be bleeding, but seemed to be in a lot of pain.

  ‘What the fuck happened there? I dunno who the fuck that was but he broke at least two of my fuckin’ ribs, I can ‘ardly breath.’

  ‘Fuckin’ Albanians, well I’m gonna be breathing out me fuckin’ mouth for a while, God that fuckin’ hurts,’ said Paul, straightening his nose.

  Sally who was sat with her head tipped back to stop the bleeding from her own nose just muttered, ‘I’m used to it, just like bein’ back wi’ Charlie.’ They all looked at each other and laughed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘So, Bashkim, have you found our lost friend Charlie Oldham or is he still missing?’

  ‘No Mr Demaci, he was not at the address of his wife and

  family. To be honest sir, I don’t believe he’s been there for some time and according to his wife, he went off somewhere, to stay with a friend. Personally, I would bet good money that he may have left the area.’

  ‘Well this is most unfortunate and upsetting, I’d hoped this episode would have been completed by now. What are we to do?’

  ‘I explained to his wife that I would allow her twenty four hours. Then I expected his whereabouts to be confirmed.’

  ‘Yes, yes, Bashkim, but what are we to do if he has done a runner and his good wife has no idea where he is?’

  ‘Then sir, I suggest we leave him a message. One that might guarantee his attention.’

  ‘Okay, what is it you suggest then?’

  ‘It would have to be something that affects his wife, because if anyone would know how to get in touch with him, it will probably be her. I would rather not touch the children yet as that would only ensure police involvement, but it must be someone close to her to make her understand we are not playing some trifling game.’

  ‘Okay, Bashkim, I’ll leave this to you, please get it resolved as soon as possible, we’ve already spent far too much time and effort on it.’

  ‘Yes sir, I understand.’

  Mr Demaci hung up the telephone and turned to his new toy boy Simon, lying naked across the king size bed in Donika Demaci’s apartment, his hand gently stroking his full erection.

  ‘So, Simon, I understand you managed to get your name on our list of escorts. Congratulations, now let’s see if we can work on your promotion and maybe get you a bigger rise, here let me do that, you must be exhausted by now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The bleeding from Sally’s nose had stopped. It wasn’t broken, just very sore. Her eyes had also stopped watering, so she went over to make sure Paul was okay. He’d reset his nose as best he could, it wasn’t the first time he’d had to do it and it probably wasn’t going to be the last. Mike was in pain but could breathe much easier now he’d relaxed.

  ‘So, who was that then? Funny way of introducing yourself if yeh ask me,’ Sally said whilst filling the kettle.

  ‘I think I know who it was, but I wish I didn’t cos he’s a tough little fucker. Apparently, the big boss Albanian Donika Demaci uses him. He’s ex military and you really don’t wanna fuck with ‘im, cos he looks like fuck all, but he’s hard as nails and doesn’t take prisoners. If he’s involved then this has just jumped up an almighty bunch of notches and we really need to consider what we’re gonna fuckin’ do.’

  Paul was trying to talk whilst holding his nose together and the speech coming out of his mouth was like that of a geriatric BBC radio announcer.

  ‘Well one things for fuckin’ certain, we can’t get Charlie to bail us out, can we? That fat fucks never there when yeh fuckin’ need ‘im is he?’

  Mike laughed at his own stupid joke, then coughed and had to hold his arms around his chest to try and stifle the pain.

  ‘Right so we know, or at least we think we know who that was, but what do we do now? I think I could’ve handled Oggy, but it would seem it’s in the hands of a totally different foreign gentleman who isn’t as easily handled.’

  Sally had finished making the tea and was getting the mugs out of the cupboard as she spoke.

  ‘Nay lass, this has just gone from an amateur bottom of the league five a side, into the Premier division. We gotta get that fuckin’ stuff back and pay those bastards off or there’s gonna be a fuckin’ blood bath and rock all left of us after, I can promise yeh that.’

  ‘Ya, but are you and Mike in any fit state to go and get it?’

  ‘Mikey can stay ‘ere with you Sal. I can go by me self, won’t take but ‘alf an ‘our. The way he looks right now, I’ll be faster on me own anyway.’

  They all finished their tea’s and while Mike went into the living room and l
aid on the settee to watch cartoons with the kids, Paul went out to get the bag back from the boatyard.

  His nose had stopped bleeding but the start of two beautiful black eyes were well on their way and his head was resonating like a blacksmiths anvil, what a mess.

  He had to walk back around to Mam and Dads house to collect the Mondeo from where he’d parked it before lunch, keeping an eye out to see if he was being followed, but there was no sign of anyone.

  Paul parked the Mondeo outside the boatyard and unlocked the gate. The Bonny Doris was laid by over on the far side of the yard, but he was up the ladder with the engine cover open within a few short minutes. Then he just stared into the open hatch not comprehending the message his eyes were trying to convey back to his brain.

  ‘Oh fuckin’ no!’

  He looked inside the engine box, poking his hand around the sides and any other orifice that he could get his great paws into. He searched the whole boat but could find nothing.

  ‘We are in so much shit,’ he said out loud, ‘what the fuck do I tell our Sal and Mike, they’re relyin’ on me, we’re all gonna fuckin die, and that’s only if we’re fuckin’ lucky.’

  ‘Everything all right up there, mate?’

  Paul looked down and there stood the same policeman that was talking to Mike the night they’d butchered Charlie beside the boat.

  ‘No, it bloody isn’t. Some bastards nicked me tool bag off the boat,’ replied Paul in his most perturbed manner.

  ‘Was it all locked up? Anything been broken into?’

  ‘No, you know what mate, some bastards probably borrowed it and just not returned it yet, ‘ang on a mo’ I’m coming down.’

  ‘Ooh! That looks sore, how’d you manage to do that then.’

  ‘Me nose yeh mean? Bloody Sunday league, got bloody nutted didn’t I. That was another bastard, yeh know what? The worlds fuckin’ full of ‘em officer, I blame the parents.’

  Dave Riley laughed.

  ‘So, you must be Mike Vickers brother then, Paul, is it?’