Rose Garden Request: Eamon Martini #1: fast-paced political action thrillers (Eamon Martini Action Thrillers) by P.M. HERON

Author:P.M. HERON [HERON, P.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sirani Publishing Limited
Published: 2021-09-09T23:00:00+00:00

47

The Borough of Islington, a segment of inner-city London’s northeast, stretched from Highgate down to Hackney, hosting a population of a quarter of a million people over a ten-square-mile radius. It was notorious for being home to the most powerful crime syndicate in the UK. The Carney family was estimated to be worth in the region of half a billion pounds. A family of Irish Catholics who’d moved from Belfast to London in the early seventies, the Carneys had quickly turned to crime and were less than pleased when the Martini family had muscled in on the Islington area. But for the first time in their family’s existence, the Martinis had clung to the Cleary name like an emigrating half-brother coming a thousand miles east. After a sit-down with Eamon Martini, whose attendance had represented both his Italian and Irish families, the Carneys had agreed to allow Leonardo and Antonio to operate businesses in the area, so long as their investments didn’t interfere with the Carneys’ own financial interests.

Antonio had quickly moved into the city with a thirst for power, money and sex—and that same thirst was as true today as the day he’d arrived. He was in his office on the ground floor of Club Mediterranean, the newest casino on Islington’s Upper Street. He had just climbed off a twenty-three-year-old stripper and had thrown four twenty-pound notes onto her bare chest. Rebecca Sharp had started working for him to pay her way through university.

‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered her as he poured a small quantity of cocaine onto her left breast. Using a credit card, he arranged the coke into two thick lines. ‘God, I love your tits.’ He kissed her breast, then rolled up a ten-pound note. One line went up his left nostril; the second disappeared up his right. He snorted and wiped his nose, walking across the room and admiring himself in the mirror.

Despite the fact he was the youngest of the four brothers, Antonio looked the oldest. He was overweight, with salt-and-pepper hair receding into his crown.

A knock sounded at the door.

‘What is it?’ he shouted.

A youthful guy opened the door just enough to pop his head inside. He was around the same age as Rebecca and was also working for Antonio to earn himself some cash to support his studies.

‘The Russians are here, Mr. Martini.’

‘Send them in.’ Antonio made his way back to his desk. ‘You can go now.’ He looked at Rebecca lustfully as she pulled on a white t-shirt. She stepped into a pair of jeans and smiled at him. ‘I’ll give you a call later.’

‘Hope the meeting goes well with the Russians.’

‘Shut the fuck up about the Russians. You know nothing.’

Rebecca turned and made a beeline for the door just as it opened, her head dropping in shame.

Antonio fixed his shirt, stuffing it down the front of his trousers, then sat in his desk chair.

Two men walked in. One was around Antonio’s age—in his early thirties— about five foot, seven inches tall and thin.

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