Wee Rockets (36 page)

"So, who's after me?"

"Stephen McVeigh."

Liam sniggered. "That prick? Sure he's nobody. I bet he doesn't even own a gun."

"He could pick you up and squish you like a grape."

"We'll see about that." He looked Joe up and down. "Thanks for the warning though."

"Aye, whatever."

Liam shifted his schoolbag from one shoulder to the other. Its weight reminded him of his new business venture. "Here. Do you want to buy some good shit?"

"What have you got?"

"E and Charlie."

"Charlie?"

Liam rolled his eyes. "
Cocaine
. I'll do you a cracker deal. For old time's sake."

"You're dealing now? What about the gang?"

"I'm an entrepreneur."

"A what?"

Liam sighed. "A business man, Joe. Jesus, you'd need some of this coke to shock your brain back into action. I'm expanding my horizons. I'll run the gang and sell a bit of chemical joy. No point standing still, you know?"

"You're going to get yourself killed, mate. That's some serious shite to be getting mixed up in."

"That was always your problem, Joe. You never wanted to take a chance. Since you and Wee Danny fucked off, we've been coining it in."

"Nobody ever got killed when I was the leader, though."

Liam bared his teeth. "Fuck you."

"Fuck yourself, fatso. I hope McVeigh takes you home with him and sticks his dick up your hole."

"Well, you may stop worrying about my back, you string of piss. Better start watching your own instead. Soon as I can get away with it..." Liam drew his thumb across his throat.

"Yeah, I'm real scared, Liam. You couldn't beat an egg."

Liam drew his fist back. But Joe moved like lightning. He shoved Liam with both hands. Liam just about kept his footing. Then Joe was right in his face. His breath warmed Liam's skin.

"Don't embarrass yourself, fatso."

Liam stepped back. "You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Why don't you show me, then? Right now."

"Suck my dick."

He turned on his heel and stormed away from Joe.

"You brought this on yourself, Liam. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Liam jammed the earphones back in, cutting Joe's tough guy act out. He added a knife to his shopping list. A big, sharp, dangerous fucker of a knife.

###

Stephen waved at the waiter and then shook a fist when the bastard walked in the opposite direction. Louise chuckled.

"Take it easy, Stephen. There's no rush."

"Sorry, I just like to order and then sit back and wait."

"But it's so lovely in here. The longer it takes them to serve us, the longer we get to sit here and people-watch."

"People-watch?"

"Yeah! God, have you never done that? Try watching people as they move, talk and don't talk. It's really interesting."

"I see. You might call that people-watching. I call it nosiness."

"Ach, you're no fun. It is gorgeous in here though, isn't it? I love all these beautiful Chinese statues and all the red curtains, carpet, tablecloth. It's just so rich and vibrant."

"Aye, red's a very powerful colour in Chinese culture. And the guys that own this place? They're some of the most rich and powerful restaurant owners in the industry. It's the best restaurant in the city. The original, before they expanded into a chain. I've always loved it here."

"I've never been anywhere as nice as this. Thanks so much for taking me."

Stephen beamed at Louise. He loved that she was so taken with The Red Panda, the busiest and most expensive Chinese restaurant in Belfast. A lot of its trade came before and after the shows playing at The Grand Opera House across the street, so the clientele was mostly dressed to the nines, even on a Thursday night. Stephen was of the mindset that if you were going to go out, you should make the effort and go out in style. And Louise had certainly made the effort.

She wore a classy black and white print dress. Cut high and long to leave it all to the imagination, but hugging her hips to guide it along just a little. It looked new, or unworn. She'd been to the hairdressers and her black roots had been taken care of. The hair itself was scooped and twirled into a stylish shape. Almost formal, but not quite. But the makeup had been self-applied, and the only thing that let the image down a jot. She'd been a mite stingy with the red lipstick and it made her lips look thinner than they really were. Stephen had a thing for good, full lips. She had them, but didn't know how to make the most of them. Maybe he'd pay to get her a makeup lesson for her birthday or Christmas. He still didn't know which would come first.

Finally, a stunning Chinese girl in a black skirt and red blouse, sporting a little red streak in her jet black hair, arrived at their table with a notepad.

"Are you ready to order?"

Louise looked at Stephen and nodded, signalling he should order for both of them. He loved those little old fashioned values that she allowed to surface from time to time.

"The first thing I'd like you to get for us is a couple more drinks. I'm on the Tiger beer and she'll have another glass of Chardonnay. You not going to write that down?"

"I have a good memory, sir."

"Okay, good. We'll have a mixed platter for starters and a chicken curry for my... um... date. And I'll have Peking duck."

"Very good. Rice or chips?"

"One of each, please."

Stephen thought he might have caught a little sneer at that, but he gave the pretty face the benefit of the doubt.

"I'll be back shortly with your drinks."

"Thank you."

Louise sighed. "Wasn't she just so beautiful?"

"Never really noticed."

"Aye, dead on. God, so elegant and pretty and doll-like. Fucking bitch." She laughed at that, but not very sincerely.

"Well, tonight I've all I want to look at in you. You look fantastic, babe."

"Ach, thanks love. You're not so bad yourself, in that shirt and tie. Don't be drinking too much. I want to take my time undressing you tonight."

He reached under the table and stroked her calf. "That's an invitation I won't pass up."

"Yeah, you'd be wise not to. I'm going to make your toes curl."

His pulse sped up and he got a little hot under the collar. She always knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

The waitress plonked their drinks on the table and interrupted his hungry stare. Stephen raised his beer bottle and Louise tapped it with her wine glass.

"Cheers, beautiful."

"Same to you, big lad."

Taking her at her word, he sipped slowly on the imported beer. She winked at him over her glass. He decided it was the best time to break his news to her.

"Louise, I have to talk to you about something. Well, someone. Joe told me a very fucked up story about Dermot."

The cheer faded from Louise's face. Her too thin lips disappeared. "
Joe
told you? When did you two get so close?"

"We swapped numbers at the funeral. Remember?"

"And what? Now you guys spend your time talking about me?"

"What? I'm talking about Dermot. What are you talking about?"

Louise blinked and her face softened. A dimple creased on cheek as she half-grimaced. "Sorry, ignore me. I got the wrong end of the stick."

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "So do you want to hear about Dermot's behaviour or what?"

"Aye, sorry. Go ahead."

Stephen talked about Joe and Dermot breaking into his house first. Louise sat and listened in stunned silence. As he relayed the tale of the armed robbery disaster she visibly fumed. One of her hands latched onto a lump of linen tablecloth with a white-knuckle grip. The other hand never strayed far from her glass of wine. Stephen stopped there and waited for her to vent some anger. Then he would offer to sort things out for her.

"I can't believe that anyone, not even Dermot, could be so stupid," Louise said. "Either you've been fed the wrong information or you're making it up. If you want to have a go at Dermot for embarrassing you with a sly dig, then be a man and admit it. I could respect that."

"Could you lower your voice? People are staring."

"So?"

"So your Beechmount is showing. This is a classy place, you know."

"Ach, fuck them." She stood up. "And fuck you too, you fucking snob."

Stephen sat back, bowled over, and watched Louise leave. She zigzagged between the tables of curious diners. As her tense form disappeared out the door, Stephen reached across the table and picked up her glass of wine.
Thank fuck the crazy bitch didn't completely let herself down and throw her drink at me,
he thought as he gulped down her leftovers. He was about to get up and leave when the starter arrived. He looked up at his waitress.

"Is it too late to cancel the main course?"

Poker-faced, she shook her head.

"Great. Bring me a couple of beers to go with this platter and then come back in twenty minute with the bill, please."

The waitress scurried off and Stephen drew his mobile from his inside jacket pocket.

"Hiya, Paul. You ready to do something about this Kelly cunt? Good. I'll see you later."

###

Danny opened his eyes. Joe sat on the wee bench at the side of his bed. He looked bored.

"All right, mate?" Danny said. His voice sounded croaky to his own ears. He cleared his throat and immediately regretted it. Pain flared in his head and black dots swam across his vision.

"Aye. I was just waiting for you to wake up. You snore."

He blinked away the dots. "Everybody snores. How long have you been here?"

"About an hour. They told me not to wake you. Even though it's visiting time, like."

"Well, this isn't the zoo, mate. I'm not lying in this scratcher to entertain people, you know?"

Joe chuckled. "Fuck me. Same old Danny. Nothing would get you down, would it?"

"Not for long mate, no." He shook his head to emphasise the point then stopped when it felt like he'd bounced his brain off the inside of his skull. "Fuck, is this headache ever going to shift?"

"Have you tried to get morphine off them yet?"

"Aye, but they're having none of it."

"Want me to ask?"

"Nah. I'll charm them around. There's one wee nurse who keeps saying she wants to bring me home. I'd go too. She's fit as fuck."

"Could be worse then, eh?"

"Fucking right. So what's the craic?"

"Got something on Liam."

"Oh, aye?"

"Yeah. I found out he's trying to break into dealing. And not just blow. He offered me coke and E tabs yesterday. That's serious shit."

Danny smiled wryly. "Fat fucker just wants to be 50 Cent or something. It's all good in the hood, what?"

"True. Anyway, we should be able to use this against him. Tell some fucking dissident dickhead about him and see if he gets snatched up and trailed off to the forest."

"Do you know any dissidents?"

Joe sagged. "No. I was hoping you or your Paul would."

"No, mate. My family's Provo all the way. What big Gerry says goes. Anyway, so far as I can tell, all the dissident shit is happening in Newry and South Armagh. Probably amounts to just a couple of farmers with a spud gun making threatening phone calls at this stage."

"Well, can you see an angle?"

Danny fought to keep his eyes open as a fuzzy wave of exhaustion washed over him. He yawned then winced as the effort intensified his headache. Then an idea sparked.