Top Dog Page 8

  When she found nothing, she moved on to the bedroom, and began looking through the drawers of the bedside cabinet. Pulling out all of the receipts that Danny kept there, she studied them, checking which items he’d bought and at which times. Her eyes were searching for anything out of the ordinary.

  There was nothing at all to alarm her, and she didn’t know whether to laugh at herself for being so ridiculous, or cry, because she could find nothing to support her suspicions.

  After tidying everything away, Maxine was about to leave the room, when her husband’s jeans, hanging on the outside of the wardrobe door, caught her attention. She was supposed to have taken them to the dry cleaners that morning, but had forgotten.

  She pulled them off of the hanger, slipped her hand inside the denim pockets, and pulled out a crumpled receipt. In horror, she noted it was for petrol that her husband had purchased in Southend. The date indicated it was on the afternoon after he had stayed out all night.

  What the hell was he doing in Southend? Knowing that the bustling seaside town was full of cheap bed and breakfasts, Maxine’s heart lurched, as realisation set in.

  This was the proof she had been searching for. It was true, he really was sleeping around with other women. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and collapsing in a heap on the bed, Maxine sobbed her heart out.

  * * *

  The stench that came from Nico was overpowering. Green pus had begun to pool on the bloody stumps, where his fingers had been crudely hacked off. Having been left to sit in his own urine and faeces for the past five days, didn’t help the situation.

  As a result, Freddie and Danny were at loggerheads. The fate of Nico was at the core of their conflict. Sweat poured out from the young man’s body, whilst he mumbled in a delirious state, as fever took hold. There was no denying that Nico was in a bad way.

  “Fuck him. He’s said sod all anyway. This stinking bastard dies tonight.”

  Danny glanced toward Nico, before answering. His voice was low. “If you kill him now, then the war with the Greeks is going to become ten times worse. It’s far too soon to wipe him out. Christos will be hell-bent on retribution.”

  “Fuck ‘em all,” Freddie spat.

  “And that’s exactly the reason why I run this side of the business.” Danny’s tone was sarcastic.

  “What did you just fucking say?” Freddie roared.

  “You heard what I said. This is the reason why I run this side of things. You have to be two steps ahead, and charging in like a bull in a china shop, is not how things get done.”

  “He dies tonight.”

  “No,” Danny answered forcefully. “We wait until we hear from Christos.”

  “I said …”

  “I heard what you fucking said,” Danny interrupted. Standing only inches away from Freddie’s face, his famous temper began to bubble to the surface. “We wait.”

  “Whoa.” Big Tone, came between the two men, and pushed them apart. “Fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to solve anything, is it?”

  “That cunt dies,” Freddie said, stabbing his finger toward Nico.

  Standing protectively in front of the young man, Danny waited for Freddie to turn and walk away. He knew from experience, exactly what would happen if the Greek was taken out too soon. The backlash would be huge, and the last thing Danny needed was for the Greeks to open up a can of worms about the shooting. The longer he could keep Nico alive, the better.

  * * *

  “Listen,” Mick Johnson said. “Freddie is right, we can’t go on like this. Look at him, he’s half dead anyway. It would be kinder to put the bleeder out of his misery.”

  Danny glanced across to Nico. Mick was right. The Greek was in a bad way, but he’d seen a lot worse over the years, at his own hands.

  For over an hour, Freddie, Mick and Big Tone had argued their case.

  “It’s got to be done. Someone needs to kill him, and the sooner, the better,” Big Tone added.

  “Well, don’t look at me, I’m not doing it. And, I’m warning you now, if you kill him, then this is going to bring all of us untold grief.”

  Big Tone cleared his throat and looked across to Freddie and Mick. “Looks like it’s one of us then.”

  The three men remained quiet, each of them not wanting to get their own hands dirty.

  Silently, Danny watched them. He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit smug. Without him there to do the dirty work for them, they were useless.

  “Well,” Danny said, as he leant against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “Who’s going to do it?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, just enough to make Freddie see red.

  Freddie’s expression was twisted with contempt, as he stared across the unit. “You are one cocky cunt,” he snarled.

  Danny shrugged his shoulders. “Sticks and stones, Freddie,” he grinned.

  Purposely not taking his eyes off of his number two, Freddie grabbed up a six-inch knife. He wasn’t about to let the cocky little bastard mug him off. In quick succession, he thrust the blade twice into Nico’s chest, then threw the bloodied weapon to the floor. The stainless steel was loud, as it scrapped across the concrete.

  “Are you happy now?” Freddie spat.

  “No, I told you not to do it,” Danny reminded him.

  “What do we do with him now?” Big Tone asked.

  Freddie heaved up a can of petrol, and splashed it over Nico’s body. “We get rid of him, and any evidence.”

  * * *

  Moving forward, Danny crouched down beside Nico. He brought his ear closer to the younger man’s face.

  The scent of petrol was overpowering, stinging his eyes. “He’s still alive,” he stated, looking across at the three men.

  “He won’t be for much longer,” Freddie growled, as he set about igniting a discarded newspaper.

  “You can’t fucking do that. Finish him off first.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “Finish him off,” Danny roared. He stood up in a bid to block Freddie’s way. “You can’t just burn the fucker alive,” he said as he tapped his finger against his temple. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Get out of the way.”

  “Give me the knife and I’ll do it myself,” Danny implored, looking around him for a weapon he could use.

  “Get out of my fucking way.”

  Danny stood his ground. If Freddie wanted to burn the Greek alive, then he was going to have to go through him first.

  It took all three men to physically move Danny out of the way, and with a smirk of victory, Freddie threw the flaming newspaper toward Nico’s broken body.

  The petrol ignited with a whoosh. A long guttural, animalistic groan came from the man strapped to the chair. His face twisted in agony, as his body contorted.

  The flames continued to lick and dance across the burning body, as the dying muscles twitched. The heat was unbearable. The sickly scent of burning flesh tainted the air and stuck to the back of their throats, making them cough and gag.

  Danny’s eyes were murderous. He shrugged both Big Tone and Mick Johnson away from him. “I’ll fucking kill you for doing this.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Freddie grinned. “What are you so bothered about him for? He’s fuck all to do with you, unless you’re worried you might be next?”

  “You cunt.” Lunging forward, Danny managed to crack his knuckles against the older man’s jaw bone. Incensed, he rained blows down upon him, his heavy clenched fists going to town as he pummelled.

  All of his pent up anger came to the fore. “You no good fucking cunt,” he spat, as he punched and kicked the living daylights out of the older man.

  He had no recollection of being dragged outside, away from Freddie, so intense was the white hot fury inside him.

  * * *

  “You need to calm down.” Apprehension was evident across Big Tone’s face. He blew out his cheeks and struggled to catch his breath. It had taken every ounce of his and Mick’s strength to remove Mc
Kay. He didn’t believe they were capable of that same brute force again, should the man charge back inside.

  “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

  Big Tone held up his hands, desperately trying to calm the situation down. He was more than wary of the man in front of him. He had never seen such ferocity before. “Come on, mate, that’s not going to help the situation, is it?”

  “I’m not your fucking mate,” Danny roared. He squared up to the big man, his fists clenched, ready to attack once again.

  Big Tone took a step backwards. “Calm down, Danny,” he repeated, his voice wavering.

  Pacing backwards and forwards, Danny clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt as though he could explode at any moment, as if the slightest wrong word from Big Tone would push him over the edge.

  Nervously, Big Tone glanced inside the unit, before looking back toward the pacing man. He’d always known for a fact that McKay’s notoriety was warranted, but he had never seen the man so vicious, so brutal, before. He gave a shudder, as he remembered how he’d once believed that Lloydy and Terry Stevens could have taken him out.

  After what he had just witnessed, he knew for certain, the end result would have been carnage, in Danny’s favour.

  He watched Danny like a hawk. The pacing man reminded him of a caged animal. He didn’t mind admitting that he actually felt more than a little bit scared of this crazed version of Danny McKay in front of him.

  Danny continued to pace. When he felt his fury slowly begin to ebb away, he stopped and placed his palms upon the wall and leant his weight against them. The muscles in his forearms strained, as his head bowed downwards.

  After what seemed like an age, he finally looked up at Big Tone. “I’m going to kill all of you for this,” he said, his voice chillingly calm.

  Big Tone shuddered for a second time. Danny’s calmness was now even more terrifying than his temper. Instinctively, he didn’t doubt the man for a second.

  * * *

  Once he was seated inside his car, Danny looked over at the industrial unit and had to fight the urge to not get back out of the motor, and drag all three men outside and finish his murderous rampage. He’d never been so livid, so angry before.

  He continued to stare across at the unit. The stench of burning flesh stained his clothes and skin.

  He took deep breaths to keep his temper under control. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. His knuckles were deathly white. This was the last straw, as far as he was concerned.

  He picked up his mobile phone and scrolled through his contact list. He stopped when he came to Moray’s telephone number, and without pausing, pressed dial.

  “We put the plan into action tomorrow night,” he growled into the phone. “I want Freddie brought down.”

  He waited for Moray to agree, then snapped off the call.

  With one last look toward the unit, Danny tossed his mobile phone onto the passenger seat, started the ignition, then sped away.

  This was it now. Enough was enough. As far as he was concerned, Freddie was finished.

  * * *

  Returning home, Danny turned his key in the lock. He felt absolutely drained.

  The house was in darkness and he was thankful for that. All he wanted to do was to fall into bed and sleep, if that was even possible, after the night he’d had. Quietly, he closed the front door behind him and shrugged off his jacket, before making his way across the hallway toward the stairs. Careful of where he stepped, he managed to dodge the creaking floorboards. He didn’t want to wake his wife or son. He couldn’t deal with them, on top of everything else, at this precise moment in time.

  “Where have you been?”

  Startled, Danny turned toward the door to the living room. “For fuck’s sake, Max, what are you doing standing there in the dark?”

  Maxine repeated the question her voice rising. “Where have you been?”

  “Where do you think I’ve fucking been?” Danny barked. He pushed past her into the living room, and snapped on the light switch.

  Blinking rapidly, as the sudden light momentarily blinded her eyes, Maxine stood with her arms folded across her chest. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”

  Danny dragged his hand through his hair. “You know where I’ve been, where I always fucking am … at work.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  He gave her a cold stare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, I don’t believe you. What’s this?”

  Danny glanced down at the crumpled receipt his wife held in her hand and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s your problem, Max?”

  “My problem, Danny, is this receipt for petrol, which you bought in Southend.”

  “And?”

  “What were you doing in Southend?”

  “I’m really not in the mood for this, Max. I’ve had a bastard of a night.”

  “Well, that’s tough, because I am in the mood. What were you doing in Southend?”

  Danny battled to remain calm. He took deep breaths. “I don’t know, you tell me? You seem to know it all.”

  Determined not to cry, Maxine held her head high. “Who is she?”

  “Who is who?” Danny rounded on his wife. “Come on, Max. You’re the one who wants to accuse me of shit, so you tell me?”

  “Who is she?” Maxine repeated, her voice taking on a hysterical tone.

  “You’re not right in the fucking head,” Danny snapped, pointing a finger to his temple to emphasize his point.

  “Well, I hope she was worth it.” Maxine gave a sarcastic laugh, hiding the fact that she was close to tears.

  Ignoring his wife, Danny walked through to the kitchen. He opened the fridge door and peered inside, before slamming it shut again.

  “I said, I hope she was worth losing your wife and son for.”

  Danny’s eyes were hard, yet his voice took on a bored tone. “Yeah, I heard you.”

  Stood in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips, Maxine bristled. “Well, are you going to tell me who she is? Or is there more than one, is that it?”

  “What the fuck is all of this about? I’ve done fuck all wrong.”

  “This,” Maxine shouted, slamming the receipt down onto the breakfast bar. “You taking your tarts to Southend and staying in cheap bed and breakfasts, while I’m here with our son. Or have you forgotten all about that little boy upstairs?”

  He stabbed his finger forward. “Keep my son out of your twisted accusations. You’re really pushing your luck now.”

  “Our son,” Maxine corrected.

  “I’m warning you, Max, I’m this close to losing my rag,” Danny said, holding his thumb and forefinger inches apart. “And the mood I’m in, you really don’t want that.”

  “Why, because I’ve caught you out?” Maxine cried. “I can’t believe you could do this to me.”

  “I’ve done fuck all wrong.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “You’ve been cheating on me and this here,” she said jerking her head toward the receipt, “is the proof.”

  “It’s a receipt for petrol, that’s it. You need to get a grip, Max, and fast. You sound like you’ve gone off your head, like you’ve lost the fucking plot.”

  “All I want to know, is who she is!” Maxine screamed back in frustration, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Danny shook his head. He picked up his car keys and headed toward the front door.

  “Where are you going? Are you going to her?” Panic was evident in Maxine’s voice.

  “There is no her. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouted, throwing up his hands. “Don’t you think I’ve got enough to deal with, without coming home and you accusing me of all this shit?”

  His words stung her. In a romanticised way, she had expected him to cry and beg for her forgiveness, even if there had only been a few tears.

  As the front door slammed shut behind her husband, Maxine sank to her knees and wept. Her marriage was falling apart.

&nb
sp; * * *

  “You okay, Fred?”

  Freddie winced, and very slowly nodded his head. Just that one simple action sent shards of pain shooting down his neck and back. He could barely breathe and he would put money on it that he had more than one broken rib. He gingerly touched his face. He could feel the swelling already forming, as his fingers came into contact with sticky blood.

  Grey smoke billowed out from the smouldering, charred remains of Nico, and Big Tone averted his eyes. All the while, Danny’s words echoed through his mind. He knew, without a doubt, the man meant every word, when he said he would kill them.

  Big Tone was worried. He would speak to Lloydy and Terry Stevens, he decided. With them on board, just maybe, they could salvage the friendship they had once had with McKay. Maybe they could even make amends and smooth things over. He just hoped and prayed it would be enough in Danny’s eyes. Somehow, he doubted it. It was not only a depressing thought, but also a terrifying one.

  * * *

  Danny lay back on the couch in Moray’s office. He was now wide awake, all thanks to his wife. He was still stunned that she was accusing him of having an affair. Where the fuck would he find the time to shag other birds?

  The situation with Freddie was all consuming, and even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, there was no room for other women in his life at this precise moment in time, or in the foreseeable future, for that matter.

  He took out his mobile phone and contemplated giving his wife a call. Instead, he threw the phone down beside him. Fuck her, he thought bitterly. He had enough going on, without her hysterics adding to his problems.

  He turned over onto his side and picked up a sheet of paper from the floor that had the list of Freddie’s clubs written on it. Studying them, he took out a pen, and made his own notes beside each of the clubs. The men they chose would need to be as clued up as possible for the plan to work. If it was the last thing he did, it would be to make sure that everything went to plan.