Authors: Warren Slingsby
Carl and Dan steered well clear of Reaper after that. They also steered well clear of all his buddies who were liable to take a pop at them. Reaper blamed the pair of them. This was a problem. It made prison life much more stressful having to look out for yourself in the common areas and even in your own cell. They both knew it wasn’t uncommon for inmates to have ‘falls’ in their own cells. Their defence was to stay close to one another wherever possible. Not that Dan would have been much use against Reaper, he was all of nine and a half stone and Reaper was a muscular fifteen stone. He worked out in his cell for an hour or more every day without fail and his body was rock solid. Carl didn’t work out, but physically, he liked to think he would be able to handle himself in a fair fight.
Reaper had told his buddies those fags would come to regret what they had done. ‘Maybe not while they were in prison, but some day.’
Two hundred and seventeen days after
As they reached the drop off area at Heathrow airport, Yana’s taxi driver helped get her bags out of the boot of the car and placed them on a baggage trolley for her. Going the extra mile for her meant she gave him a five pound tip which went into his top pocket; separate from his fare which went in his back pocket. He confirmed the time he would be here for her return and wished her a pleasant flight. She found her check-in desk and joined the short queue. Almost immediately, a man joined the queue behind her and she gave him a friendly co-passenger smile, which he returned.
She was well travelled and knew the drill at the security area, she was wearing slip-on shoes in case they needed to come off, she had no belt to remove and all her documents and passport were in a clear plastic travel wallet. Yana had given herself plenty of time before her flight. She bought copies of The Daily Mail and Telegraph, a bag of wine gums, sparkling water and some chewing gum and then found the British Airways business class lounge with the help of a pretty young British Airways uniformed girl. Plenty of time to get a gin and tonic to sip while she read the papers. She had disliked the last few times she’d travelled as she’d been rushed. Both times flying with a budget airline and subsequently didn’t have use of a lounge with complimentary drinks and food. She saw the man who had been behind her in the queue sitting not far from her. He was looking in his duty free bag and ordering a pint of beer. She kept her eye on the departure boards, but there was no gate as yet. She was very early.
Once on the plane, which was barely half full, she was pleasantly surprised at just how much nicer this was than the last time she had flown. More complimentary food and drink. Very attentive staff. Lots of space. She was a little tipsy as the captain announced that they were starting their descent into Barcelona. By contrast, on her last flight, the only choice had been a tuna sandwich as everything else had sold out. She didn’t eat tuna as she didn’t agree with the way they were fished, so she went hungry. She had been unimpressed to say the very least.
At the baggage pickup and passport control in Barcelona Airport, she saw the young man again. They were efficient and she was through in no time at all and saw Janet waiting for her. She speeded up her luggage trolley toward her and gave her a big hug.
“Oh, so nice to see you mum!”
“You look so well sweetheart. I hope you’re taking care of your skin in the sun.” said Yana holding Janet’s face gently. “You don’t want to end up all wrinkly like Auntie Pat.”
“Don’t worry, I use a good sun screen mum. C’mon, we’re over here.”
She looked around to smile a co-passenger farewell smile at the young man but he had gone.
. . .
“Thanks Yana.” Charlie said. “You’ve been a very helpful lady today.” He sat outside what he assumed was now Janet’s house in the hills above Barcelona. Janet’s house that she had no doubt bought with cash that belonged to Charlie. He’d been met at the airport by a friend who’d gone out the day before and rented him a car. Charlie had paid him a hundred quid and his flights. As they had reached the house, the garage door had opened up, probably from a remote in the car, but possibly from someone in the house and Janet had driven her Porsche cabrio inside.
He accepted to himself at least that he had a little thing for her. She was cute. He got the look now, she was obviously of Russian heritage. The high cheek bone structure and the deep thoughtful eyes that probably came from a tougher than Western existence. As he’d followed her in his nondescript grey metallic Fiat Punto, he’d been intrigued by the back of her head. The wind rushing through the short, slightly curly locks. She occasionally turned to her mother and laughed. She looked so vibrant and alive and funny and pretty. But he had to remember she’d screwed him over. She was the enemy.
He waited outside for an hour but there was no further movement.
He found a hotel nearby which wasn’t too expensive and checked in with his one bag. He had a sleep for the afternoon and set his alarm for 8pm. He wanted to go back when it was dark and have a good look around. It had crossed his mind that this might be a friend’s house, but then who would have the automatic garage door remote control for their friends’ house? No this was more than likely where Janet was living now. He knew he needed to alert Carl as soon as possible. He would take a dim view of Charlie messing around when there was so much at stake, but he needed to make sure he was giving him accurate information. He set back out at nine o’clock. It was getting dark now by the time he got to Janet’s house, it would be dark enough to get a good look at the set up.
He assessed the neighbourhood. It was a quiet little street. Detached houses which was quite unusual. No one was around but he could hear conversations in houses. Some had Spanish TV programmes on loud enough for him to hear and some Spanish music. As he approached Janet’s house, he realised it was going to be difficult to get a good look in. On the street side, there were no windows at ground level just the garage door. He went around the side of the house which dropped away over the hill down toward Barcelona. The window at his level was a large patio which was open. He could hear them talking. Ice cubes clinking in glasses. There were seats on the terrace and some stuff on a table; a mobile phone, ashtray and a magazine. He guessed they would be getting more drinks and would no doubt be coming back out shortly. He shifted himself down past the side of the terrace where there was a little cut out in the rock.
They came back out and were chatting non stop. He didn’t really know what he was expecting to hear them saying. If they had said anything interesting, then they’d got it all out. All they were speaking about now was Janet’s sisters and brother. Her Auntie Natalia was also a big topic of conversation, apparently she had been having an affair with her personal trainer and it had all come out when her Uncle Alan had found some ‘sexts’ that she had sent him. All very interesting but this was not getting him anything useful. He guessed they’d already chatted about how she ended up with this house and a Porsche before he got here. It was time to call in Carl. This was going to get messy no doubt. The house was pretty secure apart from the fact that she obviously liked to sit out on the terrace overlooking the city. This would probably be how Carl and Dan would go in. He would leave them to do the nasty work. They would probably enjoy it.
Once away from the house, he called Carl and let him know he had indeed found her. She was currently with her mother but she was going back to London on Tuesday. So in terms of keeping this as clean as possible, Carl said he would come out on the Wednesday or Thursday depending upon when there were flights they could get on. He gave Carl her house number and street name and spoke about how the house was very secure, that the most viable entry point would be the terrace when she was in. Carl wrote it all down on his desktop pad. Charlie also gave him his hotel name and room number. Then they discussed the money and Charlie informed him he’d not seen any sign of the cash bag. There were signs she’d spent some of the money on the house and the old Porsche. Charlie guessed it totalled about a quarter of a million. Carl said that was a relief considering she was blasting about in a Lamborghini in the past and guessed it left probably just upwards of two mill. They would have to write off anything she’d spent to far. He scribbled
£¼M
spent
over
£2.5M
leaves
£2¼M
. Still more than worth chasing the bitch for. He wrote
bitch
underneath the figures.
Once they were off the phone, Charlie reflected on Carl’s tone on the phone. It bothered him. It was just a little short. A little too... he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Like he was working
for
Carl rather than
with
Carl. It had also bothered him when he’d seen him at Carl’s house too. When he’d been there with Dan. He knew they had been friends for a long time and something had happened in prison which had bonded them together. A fight where Dan had saved his bacon or some shit. Either way, it just didn’t feel right. He maybe just needed to keep an eye on the two of them and make sure they didn’t take a chance to do one with the cash once they got it. Assuming they would get it. That was still unclear where the actual cash was. It was still not 100% guaranteed that she had the cash. It could be some crazy co-incidence where she was in that same hotel and with that same bag. A long shot, but crazy shit happened in this world sometimes.
Two hundred and eighteen days after
Reaper, dressed in grey jeans and black jumper, stood behind Carl’s desk and read with interest the notes scrawled across it. An address and a hotel, both in Barcelona and some figures. One which was particularly interesting to him.
£2¼M
. Reaper had followed Carl and Dan out of the house, they were currently drinking in town with some other guys. All about Carl’s age, all quite a bit older than the scrawny little runt - Dan - AKA, the pain in Reaper’s backside, literally, since he’d stuck that penknife deep into it. He’d said he wouldn’t forgive or forget and that he’d eventually get his revenge and tonight was that night. But this might just throw a different light on the situation. What was this money? Who was at this address in Barcelona and what was this hotel? His initial thoughts were that this amount of cash could be at this location, probably something to do with drugs. But then
bitch
was scrawled beneath the figure. Women as a general rule weren’t stupid enough to get into dealing drugs. Who was this BITCH? Seemed she’d got Carl’s back up something bad.
He’d been staking out Carl and Dan for a few days now and he knew the layout of the house. He also knew that Carl had some old school security. Two dobermans. Fucking cliché. Well if Carl liked clichés, then Reaper would use one to disable them. He’d chucked them both half a steak which they’d greedily gobbled up. Unfortunately for them, both steaks had pockets cut into them which contained crushed sleeping tablets. They would either sleep for a long time or forever, he wasn’t sure which and hadn’t really cared. They were either breathing very shallowly. Or not at all. He still didn’t want to take any chances, so their collars were now fastened together with a washing line and the washing line was looped to fasten them to the door handle of the utility room Reaper had gained access through. The last thing he wanted was to get attacked by two dogs.
He decided to have a look around the house, they’d be a while going by their usual routine of three or four pints at the local boozer. Might even be quiz night. Woo hoo. He hated the style of the house, all a bit too showroom. A little too pristine. Totally characterless. It could easily have been one of those furnished show homes that you just buy and move into. Which men would put up dado rails and curtain pelmets? It just didn’t seem right to Reaper. Walking around the house, he was filled with even more hate for Carl and Dan that they would live in a house like this. This wasn’t the house of two ex cons. There were IKEA picture frames on the shelves which still had the IKEA pictures in. That was weird. He’d planned how he would get into the house, but not really much further ahead than that. He wasn’t sure whether he would jump them as they arrived back or wait until they were asleep. Asleep would be better, but, no he couldn’t do that because of the dogs. They would find the dogs on their return unless they awoke before they got back. If they did, they’d be woozy and they would probably think they were ill and whisk them off to the vet. It would have to be as they arrived back. He had a gun with him. It would be unlikely they would have a gun on them as they came back from a pub. But he would need to be very strong with them so that things remained in his control. Dan wasn’t much to deal with physically and he’d taken Carl before, albeit with the aid of a pool cue.
. . .
Yana had just loved her first full day with her daughter in over a year. She didn’t get this kind of ‘access’ any more. Janet was so busy with her work, so this was a real treat. It was usually a snatched phone call here or there or she’d pop in unannounced. When she did, it was never for very long as she always had some place she
had
to get to after; a party, a meal or the gym. But they had really talked last night and today. She felt they’d ‘connected’ as young people say.
Today her daughter had taken her on an open top tour of Barcelona in her car. It had been hot but so long as the car was moving, there was a lovely breeze. If they did get stuck in any traffic, Janet blasted them with air conditioning. They had seen the Olympic stadium and the Nou Camp football ground, the cathedral (still unfinished) and a few of the buildings designed by Gaudi, then they had gone to the port and then driven to the beach out of Barcelona where they had a picnic and sunbathed in the afternoon sun. She’d even taken a dip in the sea and it was a long time since that had happened. The sea wasn’t warm but it was a temperature that once you were in, it became very pleasant. They’d paddled together although Yana couldn’t stop worrying about her daughter’s car which she’d insisted upon leaving with the top down. She’d asked her about work and how it was possible for her to take such a long break from her job. Janet had explained that she’d saved up enough to take a year out and that her boss was keen to keep her on, so would save her job for her for when she was ready to go back. Yana had asked outright if she had had depression and if this was why she needed time off but Janet insisted she didn’t
need
to take time off but she
wanted
to. Lots of people took a year out and travelled the world, but she just wanted to take a year out to live in the sun and explore a city she’d visited once and fallen in love with. She may stay longer she hinted. If she was to get her Spanish going well, she may stay and get a job out here. Although Yana couldn’t really understand the reasons why this could or should be, she consoled herself rather selfishly by thinking it would be rather lovely to have a daughter who lived in Barcelona who she could visit every few months.
That evening as they ate on Janet’s balcony high above Barcelona, Yana asked if she was seeing anyone.
“Not at the moment mum.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend.” Yana commented.
“Yes, it has mum.” she said looking up from her grilled chicken salad and patatas bravas, “not sure what you want me to say here mum.”
“I don’t know, just I thought you would have lots of men after you. You’re a catch for any man. With your career and you’re young and attractive.”
“Yes, I’d like to think I am and will be for the foreseeable future. I’m just not too bothered at the moment. There's plenty of time for men.” She raised her eyebrows as if in preparation for more inquisition. No more came. Then she felt like she’d told her off a little. “Besides I did meet someone recently who I really thought I liked but they turned out to be a total shit. Well more than that really, they were really bad to me but let’s not talk about it. I’m happy as I am and I want you to be happy with me as I am.”
“Oh I am, of course, I am.” she said. “Who was this total shit anyway?”
“MUM, you’re a nightmare. There’s nothing to talk about really. I met him and he tried to take advantage of me, but I got the better of him. Full stop.” She stuck another fork full of potatoes into her mouth. “Now eat up and don’t be so nosey.”
“Janet! How can you say that, I’m just looking out for my daughter,” after a short pause, “just remember there are plenty more fish in the sea and lots of them are very nice and not out to get one over on you.”
“What is this mother’s obsession with getting their daughters and sons married off? Is it just that you want grand kids?” she asked raising her eyebrows. “It is isn’t it?”
“Well maybe a little...” she conceded and they laughed at the stupidness of their conversation. “So this boy is totally off the scene now?” she asked, knowing this was the last question she’d get in.
“He is totally OFF the scene. He doesn’t even know I’m in Barcelona,” she said a little smugly, “that off the scene enough for you?”
. . .
Reaper had scoured the house and apart from a big stash of cash in Carl’s drawer, he couldn’t find any more. There was a safe in the bedroom behind a picture. Yet another
cliché
. He was no safe cracker so he’d discounted that. He had, he guessed, ten grand from the desk drawer, which was a decent night’s work in itself. Did he want to be content with that or did he want more? He did but he just wasn’t sure if wanted the hassle. Those fags could bring some other people back and then he’d definitely have a problem. Might it be better to cut out now with ten grand and no hassle? He also had an address in Barcelona which seemed to have a very large amount of cash attached to it. The Barcelona address was a risk, he could stake it out and figure the deal with it, but equally, he could get the lowdown from Carl in an hour if he decided to stick around. This was tough.
Reaper sat and rocked side to side in the executive leather office chair. A fancy one with a head rest. The rocking helped him to relax and clear his mind. He thought on it for another five minutes. The quick and dirty way to get his revenge with these two would be to lay in wait and take them down when they got back from the pub. They’d probably be slightly drunk. He’d be clear headed. It would be easy. A few years ago, that would definitely be the route he would take. He had mellowed though, he was a little wiser now and the best revenge he could take would be to use the information he’d found here to grab whatever that money was out from under their noses. He covered his tracks. He took a snap of the address with his phone. He exited out the back door. They’d have no idea that it had been him. They’d just think any old thief had been in and relieved them of their cash. Dumb asses.
Reaper was a thug. He knew that, as did everyone else who’d come across him in his life. His name had been his self fulfilling prophecy since school. But he was also clever. He was well versed in technology. He actually enjoyed reading and read quite a bit, not that he’d let any of his acquaintances know that. He’d grown up a lot as well. He actually wanted to move along with his life. He knew he needed to leave Reaper behind in order to do that. He knew that would be difficult. It would probably mean he would have to drop the people who knew him as that, but he was fine with that. He was a loner at heart. Perhaps whatever it was that was that awaited him at the address in Barcelona was his new start. He may have to be ruthless. That wasn’t a problem. Within ten minutes of leaving Carl’s house, he’d figured out how he could be in Barcelona for the 11.30 am the next morning. He’d also viewed the house on Google Maps with the satellite view and had a good idea of its exterior layout.