Layer Cake by J. J. Connolly

Author:J. J. Connolly
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Published: 2000-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chance’d Be a Fine Thing

Cody and Tiptoes come outta the doorway, both looking up and down the street but it’s deserted.

‘Listen,’ says Cody with an edge in his voice, ‘I think we need a little chat. There’s a café two hundred yards up the Cally, George’s, give us ten minutes. You two go that way and we’ll go this, okay?’

With that they march off at high speed, leaving me and Mort wandering down this quiet back street that still has cobbles on the road.

‘That geezer, I knew him,’ says Morty.

‘Who, Tiptoes? You would, he’s a face.’

‘No, Kinky.’

I stopped walking.

‘Really? How?’

‘He’s a distant relation, tenth cousin removed or something.’

‘Shit, really? I’m sorry, Mort’

‘It’s all right. I ain’t seen him or his family since he was about five, twenty years ago.’

He lights another fag.

‘It took me a while back there to work it out. Trevor Atkins. Cute kid, as I remember, but he was distant.’

‘All the same, it’s a cuntish way to end up . . . What can I say?’

‘There’s nothin to say, is there. It ain’t a big deal. I didn’t wanna say anythin back there with those two.’

‘Don’t say anythin now, either. They don’t need to know.’

We walk the long way round, enjoying the fresh air again. We walk into the café and order coffees.

‘Not eatin, lads?’ says the soapy geezer behind the ramp. ‘Why not ‘ave a bitta cake, lads.’

The cake looks like it’s been here as long as he has, the fuckin cellophane’s dusty. Morty don’t like the gaff. It’s a bit too greasy for him. The tables haven’t been wiped down properly. They’ve been wiped with a greasy rag so the Formica’s slippery and bit more shiny than it should be. He’s got his look on, the look he puts on when it’s all a bit distasteful and grubby. He sits down but keeps his raincoat buttoned up, his driving gloves on and his elbows off the table.

Cody motions me outside straight away.

‘I know what yer gonna say, Cody.’

‘This is a bit fuckin much, mate, fuckin stiffs. I thought this was gonna be a giggle. Did you hear what that kid was saying back there? Someone offed his mate.’

‘The kid’s spark out, shot away, tell ya anythin. Listen, I’ve had a think. I’ll give ya the three and ‘alf I owe ya but if you just find the bird down in Brighton, I weigh you on ten grand.’

‘Are we talkin thirteen and a ‘alf gee?’

‘No. That’s bein greedy, Cody. I’m talkin ten.’

‘I was gonna give Tiptoes something outta my whack, a coupla grand, even, see how things went, but now he could be webbed up in a murder–’

‘The geezer OD’d, happens all the time ‘round ‘ere, you said it yourself. Listen, you get a train to Brighton from the Thameslink over there you could be ten grand richer tomorrow.’

‘You pay Tiptoes his whack, two grand?’

‘Done,’ I agree.

When I thought they had Kinky and the princess I realised how much I wanted out of this thing. I consider it twelve large well spent.

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