Ashes to Ashes by Paul Finch

Author:Paul Finch [Finch, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-02-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Vic Ship was in the old soap-making plant, behind the bare desk in his makeshift office, when his minions finally reported back that the cop had got away. It didn’t trouble him – he’d half expected that; in some ways it suited him. Otherwise, he’d never have given the guy a head-start.

This wasn’t a real office, not any more – just a slightly private place in which to insulate himself from the common herd whenever they assembled here, and to reinforce the impression that he was the man, the one you needed permission to actually speak to. But there was no decent equipment or furniture in here, just scraps and relics left over from the days when this gutted structure had been in normal use. Rubbish cluttered the corners; dust-laden blinds covered its outer windows, which were uniformly dingy and cracked. Ship and his number one fixer, Alan Cornish – the young presentable guy who’d accompanied him during Heck’s brief interrogation – now sat one at either side of the litter-strewn desk.

While they waited, Cornish flicked through pages on his iPad.

Slowly, the rest of the crew reconvened on the old factory’s shop-floor, dogs yipping and whining, men arguing. The first one to come to the office was Nayka. He didn’t bother to knock, but noticeably – further lessening his ‘iron man’ image, along with the blood and bruises he still sported – he now wore a hoodie top under his fleece-lined doublet, even though it concealed his notorious cobweb insignia. It amused Ship to see the Russian in this reduced state. Ever since arriving in Manchester, this semi-official spokesman for the St Petersburg syndicate had adopted a leadership role, treating his British colleagues as newcomers to the urban crime scene.

At present, he was fuming.

‘You gotta kill this Goddam cop!’ the Russian stated flatly. In the fashion of most of the psychopaths Ship knew, Nayka’s humiliation had enraged him but it hadn’t humbled him. ‘You gotta kill his family, his friends, everyone who knows him.’

‘Says who?’ Ship asked. ‘You? Just coz you got your itsy bitsy face mucked up.’

‘Is the code.’

‘Not round here.’

Nayka’s angry face twisted further. ‘You let him speak you like that … some pigshit cop? You let him shame you in front your bratva?’

Ship sat back. ‘Far as I could see, Nayk, he was tipping us some kind of wink.’

‘Chto za hoy! One of your dogs died.’

‘Our dogs die all the time, usually in the ring. Am I supposed to cry?’

‘Tony Kemp get hurt.’

Ship eyed him, amused. ‘Tony Kemp fucked up. As did you. You were supposed to bring Heckenburg back here. Not the other way round.’

‘Vic! This son-bitch cop one of Shaughnessy’s rats?’

Ship glanced at Cornish. ‘What do you think?’

The fixer shrugged. ‘If he is part of their crew, why didn’t the rest of them come with him? Start shooting, turn their flamethrower on the whole lot of us?’

Nayka glanced from one to the other, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You say Shaughnessy not behind this … just because he not come here?’

Cornish stood up.

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