Chapter 8
Tom arrived after lunch. Suited, moustache trimmed and bags under his eyes gone.
“Boss.”
Maddox tilted his head in acknowledgement. He followed Tom out to the car and slotted himself in the back. He glanced down at his watch, rolling the metal round his wrist with a tightening gut.
“Where we heading, Boss?”
He stopped caressing his watch and hummed in thought. “Think we should give Desmond a speaking to.”
Tom’s smile was brief, directed to the mirror. “Yes, Boss.”
One of his many revenues was loaning money. Desmond had borrowed a significant amount. Jake had distracted Maddox long enough to give Desmond a breather, but it was time to put the pressure on. He couldn’t seem too soft.
Desmond’s house was the opposite side of London. The houses were packed closely together; a sofa had been left out in the street long enough to turn its cushions a murky brown. Not a civilised part of town, but one where Maddox got a lot of business lending money.
Tom stopped outside Desmond’s house. The curtains twitched with their arrival. If Desmond had been a clever man, he would’ve realised his silhouette showed through the pale curtains.
“You reckon hes gunna open up?” Tom asked.
The curtains became jittery while Maddox watched. “Doubt it.”
Tom huffed and climbed from the car. He strolled towards Desmond’s house, buttoning his suit jacket as he did.
He struck the door with a booming fist. “Open up, Desmond...we know you're there...”
The shadow from the window faded. Maddox raised his eyebrow, genuinely surprised Desmond was cooperating.
The door didn’t open. Tom rolled his shoulders and knocked again.
The car had gained an audience, and Maddox was never one to keep his adoring public waiting.
He straightened his jacket when he left the car. A sweeping look was directed at all the lingerers and they quickly made themselves absent.
The letter box was the clearest way of communicating to Desmond, but Maddox wasn’t lowering himself to the ground to speak to him. He walked up to the door, lips close to the frame as he spoke slow and sure.
“Open this door.”
Maddox didn’t need to press his ear to the door to hear the gasp on the other side. He waited, internally counting to ten. After five seconds, a stuttering voice muffled through the woodwork.
“I-I haven’t got the money, Mr Henley.”
It wasn’t the response he wanted. He didn’t reply but stared blankly at the door and began his internal counting once again.
The door clunked and edged open. Tom moved to barge but Maddox stopped him with a firm hand to his shoulder.
Desmond shook in the hallway. Eyes wide and brow sweaty. Maddox strolled inside, leisurely with his pace. Desmond backed away in time with the movements, stuttering nonsense as he went. The house reeked of cigarettes, so intense it tickled Maddox’s nose. Not only that, but he was positive the very air was misty from fumes.
“Mr Henley-I-”
“Quiet,” Tom muttered, following close behind.
Maddox backed Desmond into his kitchen and flicked his eyes at the kettle.
“You not gunna offer me one?”
Desmond’s eyes dropped to where Maddox looked. “Of-of course.”
Maddox flicked his head for Tom to search the house and settled at the kitchen table. The ashtray overflowed, and a minute inside the smoky house had him reaching into his suit pocket. The cigar had been meant for Ian’s demise, but he'd never gotten around to smoking it, kept it with him as a reminder of that night. He sighed, flicking his zippo and lighting it up. Desmond’s eyes latch on to the cigar and Maddox raised an eyebrow.
“Drink?” he reminded.
“Hmm, yes...Tea...is tea okay?”
Maddox grunted a yes, lips plugged by his cigar. He wasn’t going to drink whatever Desmond made him but found people cooperated when given a task to distract them. The strength of the tobacco had his eyes watering. He realised he hadn’t smoked anything for weeks. Jake had distracted him from his nicotine addiction.
“You owe me money,” he said plainly.
Desmond nodded his head solemnly at the floor. “I know...”
The tone was sad, bordering on tragic. Maddox huffed, flicking the ashtray in front of him till it pinged.
“How many smokes are in there?”
“Urm...sixty...maybe more.”
Certainly more, by the shabby decor and the lack of food in the doorless cupboards, Maddox suspected all he ingested was smokes.
He bunched his lips around the cigar before tugging it from his mouth. “It’s a start, then.”
The kettle clicked but Desmond missed the noise. “Wh-what?”
“Give up smoking...give up smoking and I won’t slap interest on what you owe.”
The ashtray wasn’t the only container overflowing from smokes. The bins were piled, butts littered the floor, and Desmond’s fingers were stained black from the excessive amount he relied on.
“I-I can’t give them up.”
Maddox’s attention was drawn to the end of his cigar. Grey ash sparkling with hints of gold each time he sucked. Desmond continued to watch with longing on his features.
“Remind me why you borrowed the money?”
Desmond sniffed loudly, and Maddox flexed his face at the noise. God, he hated sniffing.
“My daughter’s fees for art school...”
Maddox nodded, finding the stained photograph of Desmond’s daughter pinned to the fridge.
“She enjoying it?”
“Yes...she loves it.”
Maddox bobbed his head with a smile, and Desmond mimicked the motion with a rasped laugh. Nervous laughter, how odd it was.
“Good...I did you a favour, now you owe me. Give up smoking. Not only will it lengthen your life and the time spent with your daughter, but the money will start paying your debt.”
Maddox exhaled the smoke in his mouth slowly before tapping his nail against the ashtray. “So what’s it gunna be? Give up the smokes, or I go back to traditional means? Would be a shame for your daughter to see you broken and bleeding.”
Desmond turned from his pile of smokes and whispered ‘deal’ at the opposite wall.
“Good...I expect the first payment in a week.”
Maddox stood, scraping his chair as he did. “Thanks for the tea.”
Desmond’s jaw dropped, and he frowned in confusion at the cups on the counter.
Maddox puffed on his cigar, tutting at the pile of inferior quality.
“Nice chatting to you, Desmond.”
He breezed from the room, whistling sharply to get Tom’s attention wherever he had gone in the house.
Tom plodded down the stairs. “No cash.”
“That’s okay...we’ve come to an agreement, next week…or we start with his fingers.”
Tom flicked his head and followed behind Maddox as they left the house. Desmond didn’t linger in the doorway. He slammed the door they left open and by the loud thump he had collapsed against it.
A minor job, but a step in the right direction. Maddox climbed back in the vehicle, finally confident he could put Jake behind him. He smoked the remainder of his cigar with Beethoven belting out around him.
Chapter 9
Two weeks later his phone jingled with an unknown number. In most cases he ignored such calls, but the person on the other line persisted.
“All right boss?”
Maddox dragged his eyes from his device and settled them on the back of Tom’s head. They rumbled along the road after a satisfying day of intimidation. Beside Maddox sat a bag of cash and jewellery, his customers were finally tripping over themselves to pay him back. He wanted to settle into the car, close his eyes and visualise the next lot of jobs he had to do. The caller broke that calm, kept jolting him back to full awareness.
“Unknown video caller...” he told Tom.
Tom shrugged. “They see it's you and they’ll hang up pretty quick.”
A snort escaped Maddox. He smiled fondly in the mirror, glad Tom had relaxed a fraction. A job well done usually loosened people and the serious Tom was no exception. A job well done interrupted by the arsehole calling his phone.
Maddox pressed accept and waited for the connection to enlighten him.
Richie’s grinning face beamed from the other side. The suddenness of having his rival in front of him increased Maddox’s heart rate, but he didn’t give it away. He stared stone-faced down the camera.
“Ah, Mr Henley.”
Richie continued to grin, but the tight smile made him look manic rather than sincere. He had enough wrinkles without forcing them.
“What do you want?”
Richie nodded with a laugh. “Straight to it, then.”
“You’re wasting my time. I don’t like people who waste my time.”
There was a glint in Richie’s eyes, the cloudiness sparked with scheming. Maddox glared back, curious but not willing to show it.
“You have the Beethoven diamond, right?”
The diamond was in the safe in his house. He no longer trusted such a valuable piece in full view of the public. Everyone’s loss was his regain.
“So what if I do?”
“I want it.”
Maddox glared unblinking. Tom slowed the car, pulling up on the curb and clicking the hazards on. He didn’t turn, but Maddox knew he listened intently.
“I want it.... or I damage something of yours.”
“You have nothing of mine,” Maddox replied, rolling his eyes.
Richie laughed, the high-pitched cackle rang like a cymbal. The other man was somewhere open, and echoing. All Maddox could see from the feed was darkness surrounding his ancient face.
The view changed. Richie’s face no longer filled the screen and Maddox scrunched his toes in anger when his rival was replaced by Jake.
Jake slouched, lip dripping with blood and eyes unfocused. He lifted himself unsteadily, pleading with his mesmerising blue eyes for help. Maddox wore a mask of indifference, but inside equal worry and fury consumed him. This was what Maddox had feared would happen. Jake was obviously afraid. His skin had turned ghost white and his eyes glistened, but Maddox couldn’t reassure him. For Jake’s sake, he had to deny his value.
“Why are you showing me him?”
Richie barked savagely, but the camera remained on Jake when he spoke.
“He’s yours, isn’t he?”
“He’s not mine. Some guy who entertained me for a bit, nothing more.”
The imagery spun and Richie filled the screen again. His sneer pushed up his nose, sunk his eyes in his face. There wasn’t a more rodent looking man in the whole world.
“I’ll just kill him, then.”
Maddox shrugged. It took all his learned willpower not to growl and threaten when Richie moved behind Jake.
“I’ll blow his brains out right now.”
Maddox sighed, moving his attention to Tom in the front seat. It was a moment to calm himself before addressing Richie again.
“I have no interest in him. I’ll keep the diamond, thanks.”
Maddox shuffled in his seat, thumb hovering over the end button before pressing down firmly. The screen went black. His lip pulled back and his fists tightened till the bones ached.
“Boss-”
“We need to find him.” Maddox snarled.
Tom’s head bobbed, and the car pulled off from the curb.
“Soul Tree?”
Richie’s known hang out, but the location had been booming, echoing, not the pub he and his cronies were usually found in.
“It was somewhere else. I’ll call the others, we need to move fast.”
Amber, he told to scroll through the CCTV feeds near Jake’s house. Lewis, he told to dress casual and head to Stationary Corner. Richie had to have picked Jake up from somewhere. If it was there, one of his colleagues might have remembered the car. Carl was sent to Jake's place, tasked with searching the flat in case they had kidnapped him from there, left some clues of where they were heading.
“What about me, Boss?” Tom asked.
Maddox rocked forward. “Back to the house.”
The car screeched to a stop on the road. Maddox galloped from the vehicle, breezed into the bedroom and removed the artistic swirl from the wall. Cliché to keep the safe behind a picture, but Maddox liked the cliché.
He prodded in the code, drawing his other gun from the darkness. If he was to go to war with Richie, he needed to be armed with both.
They had to find the location fast, Jake’s life was on the line. He had hoped his indifference had helped, knew if he gave himself away Richie would start harming Jake to enrage him further. Jake’s bruised face appeared in his mind. They had hurt him, were probably doing so that very second.
He braced his hand on the wall, suddenly swamped with unhelpful emotions. He needed to focus, not think of Jake as a person of flesh, blood and bone but an object that had to be reclaimed.
Tom was on his phone when Maddox climbed back into the vehicle and he hung up abruptly.
“Anything?” Maddox snapped.
“Nothing on Jake...but I heard Samson’s at his usual haunt.”
Maddox rolled his thumb to his forehead. “And?”
“He’s done deals with Richie....he might know where they’re holding Jake.”
Maddox slapped his hand to Tom’s shoulder. “Good idea.”
Samson looked the type to sob his secrets without much effort, but just in case, Maddox loaded both guns.
“Let’s go make the piggy squeal,” he said, hand unshaking on the gun at his side.