Barking Boy Read online

  “I know.” Tommy looked up. “But if something goes wrong, it’s on my head. I started all of this.”

  “Nothing’s gonna go wrong, you know that. Everything’s been taken care of, you’ve said as much yourself. Am I right, or am I wrong?”

  Tommy nodded his head. He gave a small smile, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Jimmy paused. Now wasn’t really the time to give his brother his news. “It can wait. You know what you need, bruv? You need to get back in the gym. Either that, or have a tear up. It’ll do you the world of good.”

  Tommy laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right … it would.” He wiped his hand across his face. “C’mon spill the beans, I wanna know your news. It’ll take my mind off of all this other shit.”

  “I…” For the first time since he’d arrived, Jimmy looked away.

  “What?”

  “I bought a bar, in Spain.”

  “What?” Tommy’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean you bought a bar?”

  “Me and Aiden. We bought this bar, and we’re gonna run it together.”

  Tommy shook his head, trying to get his head around his brother’s words. “I don’t understand.” He paused. “Does this mean you’re leaving? You’re going to go and live in Spain? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  “Not exactly. I’m planning to spend a few weeks there, and a few weeks here.” He averted his eyes. “Or something like that.”

  “So, you are leaving?” Tommy felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. He couldn’t recall a time when Jimmy hadn’t been there. With only eleven months between them, it had always been the two of them together, until their younger brothers had started coming along.

  “Nothing’s final yet.”

  Looking his brother over, Tommy nodded his head. “Yes it is. You just don’t wanna tell me.” He threw up his hands in disbelief. “Just when I need you the most, you’re leaving.”

  “That’s not fair, bruv.”

  Deep down, Tommy knew he was being unreasonable. Jimmy was his own man, and he needed to do what was right for him, but knowing all of that, still didn’t make it any easier. He shook his head, unable to get his head around Jimmy’s news. He stood up. “I’m going down the pub. D’ya wanna come, or do you need to go home and pack for your new life?” There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  Jimmy shook his head sadly. “I’ll go and see Mum and Dad first, then I’ll come over there.”

  “Suit yourself.” Tommy shrugged his shoulders, and stormed out of the office.

  Sitting back in his seat, Jimmy blew out his cheeks. He’d fully expected his brother to be annoyed. He just hoped, once he’d calmed down, he’d see what a great opportunity the bar was.

  Pint after pint, Tommy had sunk. He stumbled around, unsteady on his feet. “Here he is, my brother.” His voice loud, Tommy shouted at the top of his lungs.

  Walking into the pub, Jimmy wiped his hand across his face, embarrassed. “Leave it out, Tommy.” He smiled, taking the edge off of his words.

  Tommy swayed toward him. He placed his hand on his brother’s arm to steady himself. “I’m sorry, okay? I was bang out of order for having a dig at you about your bar. It was a bit of a shock, that’s all.”

  Jimmy nodded his head. “Okay, apology accepted, and from what I’ve heard, you also need to apologise to your wife.” He watched Tommy’s reaction closely.

  “I know, and I will do. Come on, get the drinks in.”

  “One more drink, and then I’m taking you home, okay?”

  Tommy nodded his head. “Well, come on then, get to the bar.”

  Paying for the drinks, Jimmy slipped his change into his pocket. He took the filled glasses over to a corner table, placing the beer in front of his brother. “This needs to stop, Tommy. This isn’t you.”

  Taking a sip from his pint, Tommy nodded his head. “Yeah, I know, and I will.”

  Jimmy eyed his brother over the rim of his glass, not believing him. “Say something did happen. Say Smith came here right now. You’d be in no fit state to help anyone.”

  Jimmy’s words instantly sobered his brother up. Looking toward the door, Tommy could see Jimmy’s point. His brother was right. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone. He couldn’t even think straight.

  “Right, well, like I said, after this drink you’re going home, sleep it off, bruv. Tomorrow’s a new day. We’ll sort it all out.”

  Taking one look at her husband, Stacey rolled her eyes. “Look at the state of him,” she complained. “That’s the third time this week he’s come home like this, stinking of booze.”

  Jimmy smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Stace. Where shall I put him?”

  Shaking her head, Stacey motioned toward the living room. “Put him in there. He can sleep on the sofa tonight.” She watched as her brother-in-law half dragged Tommy toward the sofa. “What’s got into him?”

  Jimmy swung his brother’s legs up onto the sofa, then took a step backwards. “He’s got a lot on his mind, Stace.” He kept his voice low. “We’ll sort it out. I’ve already told him this has to stop.”

  “It’s all right telling him to stop, but is he gonna listen? This is Tommy we’re taking about, don’t forget.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Yeah, he’ll listen all right. He has to.”

  They walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. Wandering through to the kitchen, Stacey walked toward the sink, leaning her back against it, as she faced Jimmy. As always, the kitchen was pristine. Not a cup out of place, she opened the cupboard and took out two mugs, before flicking the switch on the kettle. “Tea?” she asked, as an afterthought, unsure if Jimmy wanted to get straight off or stick around for a bit.

  “Yeah, go on.” He watched Stacey closely. He could see that his brother’s behaviour was taking its toll on her. She didn’t look her usual happy self, and had dark circles underneath her eyes. He watched as her shoulders began to heave, and it was only when she brought her hands up to her face, that he realised she was crying. “Hey, what’s all this?” Alarmed, he stood up and walked toward her.

  Stacey wiped at her eyes. “Him,” she spat, before breaking down for a second time.

  Jimmy led Stacey across to a chair, kneeling down beside her. “It’ll be okay, Stace.”

  “Will it?” She sniffed back her tears. “I’m scared, Jimmy. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his anymore. He doesn’t talk to me. He isn’t even interested in the kids. All he wants to do, is go out and get pissed.”

  Jimmy closed his eyes, unsure of what he was meant to say to her. “I know.” He wanted to curse Tommy for putting him in this position. “Look, it’s nothing personal, Stace. He really does have a lot on his mind, and I’m not making excuses for him. Some stuff happened at work, and he’s trying to deal with it, albeit he’s going about it the wrong way, admittedly.” He gave a half smile, trying to lighten the mood. “He’ll fight back, he has to, and I’ve given him a right bollocking tonight. I think I’ve knocked some sense into him. You just wait and see. Everything will be okay.”

  The next morning, Tommy woke early. He rolled over, and immediately clutched at his head. Never again was he going to drink. The fact that he’d already thought that to himself three times that week alone, was erased from his mind. Sheepishly, he wandered through to the kitchen. “Sorry, Stace.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, waiting for a backlash from his wife.

  Turning to face her husband, Stacey sighed. “I suppose you want some painkillers?”

  Tommy nodded his head. “Yes, please.” He sat down at the table and placed his aching head into his hands.

  “Here.” Stacey held out two paracetamol and a tumbler of water.

  Taking the painkillers, Tommy quickly swallowed them down. “I mean it. I am sorry. I’ve been a bastard to live with, I know that.”

  Stacey nodded her head. “Jimmy t
old me you had problems.” She pulled out a chair, easing her body down onto the seat. “Just don’t block us out, Tommy. We need you, too.”

  “I know and I won’t. I’m gonna take care of it, Stace, and I’m gonna sort myself out while I’m at it.” He groaned, as he clutched at his head. “Just as soon as this hangover has gone.” He gave a small smile and was relieved to see his wife smile along with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dean Johnson took a bite of his toast. He chewed slowly, before swallowing. He was sat on a high-backed stool at the breakfast bar in his kitchen. He popped the last piece into his mouth and chewed, while brushing the crumbs scattered across the bar onto his plate, then walked across to the sink. Quickly, he washed up the plate and rinsed off the soapy suds underneath the running tap. Placing the plate on the drainer to dry, Dean dried his hands on a tea towel, all the while, his mind was going into overdrive.

  From what he could puzzle together, Mark had collected the gold, slipped out of the Barking Assembly Hall, and then disappeared into the night. An idea popped into his head. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Mark’s old mum still lived in Forest Gate, East London. There was no way he would have left the country without saying goodbye to her. Knowing just how close the two were, he wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Mark was, in actual fact, hiding out there at her house.

  Dean pulled out his mobile phone. He dialled a number, then brought the phone up toward his ear. “I need you to drive me somewhere, now.” He waited for the man to answer, then switched off the phone. If anyone knew where Hopper was, it would be his old mum.

  Shirley Hopper was a frail woman, with greying hair and a hooked bent nose, which had been broken more than once by the heavy fists of her ex-husband, Mark’s dad. She’d had a hard life, and had worked two to three jobs at a time when Mark had been a young boy, just to make ends meet. She opened the front door and peered out. “Yes, can I help you?”

  Dean Johnson smiled. “Mrs. Hopper, I’m a friend of Mark’s. May I come in?”

  In that instant, at the mention of her son’s name, Shirley’s eyes lit up. “Yes, dear, come on through.” She walked ahead of Dean, leaving a wake of flowery perfume. “Come in.” She smiled, gesturing for Dean to walk through to the lounge.

  Dean walked through, and was instantly taken aback. Aside from the overly stuffed armchairs, two sideboards, and a small television set sitting proudly in the corner of the room, every visible surface held a photograph of Mark, Shirley’s only child.

  “Please, take a seat.”

  Dean did as the woman bade and smiled, wondering briefly how such a mild mannered, polite woman could have birthed someone like Mark Hopper.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  Her words broke Dean’s thoughts, and he shook his head declining the offer. “Mrs. Hopper,” he began.

  Shirley held up her hand. “Please, call me Shirley. I don’t like to be called Mrs. Hopper, even though by rights, that is my name. Brings back too many memories of Mark’s father, you see. Awful, wicked man.”

  Dean smiled gently and began again. “Shirley, have you seen much of Mark lately?”

  “Oh yes,” she gave a wide smile.

  “And when did you last see him?”

  Shirley screwed up her face as she tried to think. “Well, it must have been Tuesday.”

  “You mean yesterday?” There was hope in Dean’s voice.

  “Oh no, dear, I mean last Tuesday. It was definitely over a week ago. I know that, because Mark was here when the man came to clean the windows, and he comes fortnightly.”

  Dean’s heart sank. “Do you know where he went, or where he’s been living?”

  “No,” she paused for a moment. “He said he was going to go on holiday and visit his friend.” She put her fingers to her lips as she tried to think. “Dean that was his name. He’s got such a lovely house in Spain, and Mark was going to stay there for a few weeks. I think he’s taken a shining to a young lady over there.” She gave a little giggle. “I do hope it works out for him. That’s what he needs … a nice lady friend, maybe even get married and have a couple of children.”

  Dean nodded his head. Well, Mark definitely hadn’t turned up at his villa. “Thank you.” He stood up. “If you hear from Mark, could you give him my telephone number. It’s important I speak to him.”

  “Of course!” She lifted up her handbag and looked inside for a scrap of paper. “There you go, dear. You’ll find a pen on the sideboard beside you.”

  Dean wrote down his telephone number and passed the paper back across. He smiled as he watched her tuck it away safely in the zipped compartment of her bag. “Well, thank you for your time. Please don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.”

  Outside on the street, Dean blew out his cheeks. He’d been dead certain that he’d find Mark at his mum’s address, and the fact that she hadn’t heard from him in over a week, despite their closeness, was somewhat disturbing. He looked back toward the house, and wondered briefly if Mark had stashed the gold there, and was just lying low elsewhere for a bit. No, Mark wouldn’t put his old mum at risk, he loved the bones of her. He walked toward the car, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

  “No joy, boss.”

  Dean shook his head. It just didn’t make sense to him. Why would Mark just disappear? It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t have got enough from his share of the gold.

  “So where to now, boss?” Frankie asked.

  “Take me to Ripple Road Cemetery.” He wanted to go and lay some flowers on his brother Chrissy’s grave. He hadn’t been for a long time, and felt the need to pay his respects. He still missed his brother, even after all these years. He supposed that he always would.

  Within the hour, they were at the cemetery. On the way in, Dean bought a bunch of flowers from the flower stall outside the gates—mainly carnations, with a couple of roses, and some green foliage thrown in. He instructed Frankie to wait in the car, while he visited the grave. Walking across the grass, he reached Chrissy’s burial plot. Laying down the flowers, he tidied up the grave, emptying out the dead flowers from a vase beside the headstone.

  “Hello, mate.” He always spoke to his brother when he came. It made him feel as though Chrissy was still around. “Brought you some flowers,” he continued, telling his brother his news, before filling the vase with the fresh flowers. He bent down to kiss the headstone, then straightened up. “See you soon, Chrissy. I’ll come and visit you before I go back to Spain.” Dean began to walk back toward the car, before slowing down his pace. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, stopping beside Davey’s graveside. “Hello, you old bastard, bet you didn’t expect me to pay you a visit.” He smiled to himself. Knowing Davey, he would probably turn in his grave. Dean read out the inscription on the headstone and sighed, before shoving his hands into his coat pockets and walking away. Unbeknownst to him, he’d stood just feet away from the missing gold he’d been searching for.

  * * *

  Tommy had rounded his brothers up and summoned them to the scrap yard office for a meeting. With just three chairs, it was standing room only, and so they lined the walls of the cramped space, talking amongst themselves, while they waited for Tommy to begin. Despite being reluctant at first, Tommy had decided to take Jimmy’s advice. Their brothers needed to know the score, and he needed to have some of the responsibility taken off of his shoulders.

  Tommy took a seat. He waited for Mad Dog to also sit down before speaking. More than anything, he wanted their full attention. “Okay, so this is how it is. After we robbed the Palais, I was hauled in front of Freddie Smith.” He gauged their surprised reactions before continuing. “Freddie gave me an ultimatum. If we didn’t give back the gold, he was going to come after Jonny.” This time an angry buzz went around the room, and Tommy held up his hand to quieten them down. “Now, obviously I took this threat very seriously, and I not only couldn’t let it, but I also wasn’t prepared to let anything happen to our brother,
so …,” he paused, “… and what I’m about to say next must go no further than this room. I need your word on that.” Tommy waited for his brothers and Mad Dog to nod their heads, knowing without a doubt they wouldn’t repeat what he told them. “So, on the night of Jonny’s fight, I killed Mark Hopper.” He heard them gasp. “As far as Freddie knows, Hopper fucked off with the gold. So, hopefully that’s the end of it, but there’s always a chance this could still go tits up, and so I need you all to be vigilant. That’s it.” He held out his arms. Relieved to have gotten it off of his chest, Tommy looked to Jimmy, and gave a small smile, as his brother nodded his head toward him.

  “I knew there was something wrong, lad, but have to admit, I hadn’t expected it to be so bad. Hopper’s really dead?” Mad Dog spoke quietly.

  Tommy nodded his head. “Yep.” He leant forward in his seat to speak privately. “The thing is, I don’t know who else is involved. Now, as for Freddie Smith, he believes Hopper took the gold and fucked off, but I’m guessing Hopper had backing.”

  “In other words, people could still be expecting that gold.”

  “Yeah, and that’s what worries me. They could start digging around, or they may just believe Freddie Smith’s version of events, I don’t know.”

  “Other than us, does anyone else know?”

  Tommy nodded his head. He took note of Mad Dog’s raised eyebrows, and continued. “Danny McKay and Moray Garner. They disposed of Hopper’s body.”

  “Well, you have no worries with those two.” Mad Dog let out a sigh of relief. “And do you think Freddie believes Hopper fucked off with the gold?”

  Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but what I do know, is that he believes McKay and Garner took the gold to him.”

  “Well, that’s a start, and at least it came from his own men.”

  “Exactly.” Tommy nodded his head.

  “So, just how much danger are we all in?” This came from Gary and as he always did, he looked over at Tommy with contempt in his eyes.