Brotherhood of Blades (24 page)

‘Everyone says it’s impossible,’ Georgia told him. ‘You said so yourself. But it’s within sight, Jason. You can get away and start fresh.’

Jason shook his head and looked at the floor.

‘Do it for Chantelle,’ Georgia urged. ‘Don’t let her die in vain.’

‘Think what you’d be doing for the estate. The Brotherhood will be locked up. The residents can live without fear in their own homes, and you’ll be a hero. At least Chantelle and your gran won’t have died for nothing.’

Jason lifted his hands in the air. ‘Where are you living, man? Are you in Wonderland or something? If you put the Elders away, their Youngers will take over. You ain’t never gonna stop gang rule. The gangs are bigger than the Feds.’

‘No gang is bigger than the Feds,’ David Dawes snapped.

‘Man, I wouldn’t take your money on that!’

‘All right,’ Georgia said, trying to keep things calm. ‘For Chantelle and your gran, then. Help us get their killers.’

Jason raised his hands again, palms outward. ‘OK. Makes no odds now, they’ll get me anyway.’ His eyes looked old and sad. ‘It’s how it goes in my world – a bullet, a blade or drugs, or the nick. No one grows old.’

‘Be the exception.’ Georgia said. ‘Give the young ones some hope for their future. Be a role model.’

Jason narrowed his eyes. She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing.

FIFTEEN

J
ason stepped out of the unmarked police car a few hundred yards from the Aviary estate. He put his hand up to check the tiny mike in his ear. Georgia’s voice came through it loud and clear, making him jump. ‘Keep your hand away from your ear.’

‘Can you hear me?’ he muttered.

‘We’re watching your every move.’

Jason nodded.

‘No, don’t nod. Don’t do anything someone might notice. Just walk on down the road and on to the estate, and don’t talk to us again. If you so much as fart we’ll hear you.’

Jason began to walk. He would have preferred to blow Yo-Yo’s brains out himself, then piss on them as they spilled on the ground. He wouldn’t even mind doing the lump for it, after what Reilly had done to Chantelle. This way the Feds would get Reilly, and the bastard wouldn’t die. With luck, he’d get his face slashed a few times, or his head plunged into boiling water in the slammer. Best of all, he wouldn’t be top dog and he wouldn’t call any shots. In a way that was more satisfying. And the Aviary would be way better off without him.

Sure, a new gang leader would come up and take over, but maybe it would be someone who looked out for the kids and the older residents, not another who used and abused them.

Jason himself would be free to take up his scholarship and pursue his dream. What was left of the Brotherhood would never find him, not with the new name the Feds had promised him. And if the CPS agreed on a deal for the carrying charge, his story would be told over and over for years to come, as proof to the estate kids that drugs and weapons weren’t the only way. Maybe sometime he could come back and teach the Youngers to dance.

But without Chantelle. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He looked down at the needles and used condoms, discarded among polystyrene food containers and empty drink cans strewn around the rundown garages. As a kid he used to ferret through those containers for bits of food. No wonder he started thieving. His mum never meant him to go hungry; it was just what happened when drugs took a hold. He remembered the way the dealers banged on the front door when she owed them money. They would hide, shaking, under the table as the heavies kicked the door in and dragged her out to beat her senseless. He used to wet himself with fear.

One memory still haunted him: his mother’s screams when they dropped a lighted cigarette down her cleavage. When her trembling hands couldn’t locate it, Jason had rushed out from hiding and poured a jug of water over her. The dealers repaid him by smashing his seven-year-old head into the door before they left.

He and his mum had spent the next hour cooling her burnt flesh with cold water. The only thing that relieved the pain was an injection of heroin. It was dodgy – another punishment from her dealer – and she fell into a deep coma. Jason called Gran Sals at work and she told him to ring 999. The ambulance got hijacked on its way into the estate, the paramedics were tied up and robbed, and by the time the emergency service sent a replacement, his mum was dead.

That night taught Jason that the man with the money and the gun makes the rules. He determined then that it would be him. And as he grew up, and one friend after another got shot or bled to death from stab wounds for disrespecting another gang, he learned another lesson: you have to make your own luck; no one gives you a chance. The only thing that made his life worthwhile was Chantelle and their dream of becoming dancers. How he regretted not taking her with him on Friday. Luanne and Alysha too, before Alysha went bad.

‘Jason?’ Georgia’s voice again. ‘What’s going on? Why are you dawdling? Is something wrong?’

‘No.’ It came out numbly. ‘I’m on my way.’

The place was still crawling with Feds; for the moment he was safe. He heard Dawes’s voice in his ear. ‘We’re not coming any closer at the moment. When you locate Stuart Reilly we’ll move in. The police inside the estate are watching out for you. You’re safe, and we can hear you breathe.’

People were beginning to notice him. The jungle drums were starting to bang:
Expect trouble, Jason Young is back.

‘I’m going to Luanne’s first,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m going to warn her and Alysha to stay indoors.’

‘Tell them to lock themselves in,’ Georgia said.

As Jason walked on toward the Sparrow block he became aware that the groups of two and three people watching him walk brazenly through their estate were growing into sixes and sevens. Uniformed police also began to gather in groups.

‘Jungle drums,’ Jason said quietly.

‘We can be with you in seconds,’ Dawes assured him. ‘But we need Reilly to say he gave the word on the murders; we need three confessions. Got it?’

‘Yeah.’

But Jason had stopped listening. He was weighing up the possibility of getting a gun and taking Yo-Yo out himself, and to hell with the consequences. He could knock at Luanne’s, and write down that he needed a gun or a shank. She knew where to go; she’d get it in minutes for him. Then he could take the bastard by surprise. He liked the idea of Yo-Yo rotting in prison, but the truth was he didn’t trust the Feds not to cock up. What did they know about estates and gang life?

He walked toward the stairwell at the back of Sparrow block, heading toward Luanne’s flat on the thirteenth floor. His stomach churned as he reached the walkway and saw the cordons around the door. This was where Chantelle met her fate.

Alysha answered his knock. She looked terrible. Her eyes were swollen and some of her hair extensions were loose at the root. Her dark skin was uneven and blotchy with reddish welts across it, as if it had been scrubbed with a stiff brush. Her legs wobbled, and she put out a hand to support herself on the door frame. He said nothing. He wasn’t giving the Feds more than he had to.

Luanne’s voice sounded from inside. ‘Alysha, I told you not to open the . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she appeared in the hallway. She threw her good arm around Jason and hugged him hard.

‘We thought you’d been arrested,’ she said.

‘I got bail. How’s your arm?’

She lifted her bandage. ‘It hurts like hell, but I got off lightly.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t believe Chantelle’s never coming home.’

Her cheekbone was distorted and swollen, and the shiny mauve bruise under her right eye was new. Alysha too was in worse shape than when he had last seen her, but she hadn’t lost the attitude.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked, stepping over the threshold without waiting for a reply. ‘You look rough,’ he said as Alysha pushed the door closed. ‘Did they hurt you too?’

‘Why are you here?’ she asked warily. ‘Yo-Yo will have you killed if he sees you.’

‘Alysha, tell me. Did they hurt you?’

‘Yo-Yo’s just had sex with her,’ Luanne said in an offhand tone. ‘It hurts for a bit the first time. She needs to rest.’

Jason blinked. Alysha was twelve. That was it; the Feds could go whistle, he was taking that bastard out himself.

‘Come on, Jason, you know the score,’ Luanne said wearily. ‘Chantelle and I lost the stash of drugs we were holding for him, so we owe three times their value. He’s decided he wants Alysha earning for him on the streets. It’s either that, or more beatings until I pay the debt.’

‘Luanne, she’s a kid!’

Luanne put her good hand to her forehead. ‘I can’t take this no more. We’re shitting ourselves. He’s killed Chantelle, and he’ll be back for us. We owe him big time.’ She turned away. ‘We are way in his debt, man, and it’s all down to Haley. She flushed the stash.’

‘Is that why he had Haley killed?’ he asked quickly.

‘I want to do it,’ Alysha butted in, flicking her plaits like a thirty-year-old diva. ‘I want to go on the street and earn. I wanted to lose my cherry. I wanted Mince to do it, but he wouldn’t.’ She pouted. ‘But Yo-Yo stuck it up me, and it bloody hurt.’

Jason felt an urge to cry. She actually sounded pleased with herself. She was going wrong in a big way, and there was no one to stop her.

‘Did he hurt you?’ he asked her. ‘Apart from . . . you know?’

She shrugged bravely. ‘Yeah, a bit.’

‘But that’s Yo-Yo,’ Luanne added.

Jason looked Luanne in the eye. For the first time he was delighted that he was wearing the wire. ‘She’s twelve years old,’ he said. ‘They call it statutory rape. Where I’ve just been, guys get cut up for that.’

Luanne pulled a face. ‘Like anyone cares.’

‘I care. Where is the bastard?’

‘He’s sorting Mince out, for disobeying him and not doing Alysha.’

‘I wanted to do it,’ Alysha protested. ‘I can go and earn money for us now. And it’s none of your business.’

Jason ignored her. ‘Where? Where is he sorting Mince out?’

‘In his mum’s flat, ground floor of Eagle block. Why? Are you going to take them all on single-handed?’ Luanne asked. ‘Face it, man, Yo-Yo rules around here. Don’t get yourself killed over something you can’t do nothing about.’

Jason put his hand on Luanne’s good arm. ‘Chantelle’s dead,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t really care if I get myself killed. But he ain’t getting away with this, and he ain’t gonna hurt you two no more. When we’re done with this you’re both coming away with me.’ He looked across at Alysha. ‘Where did you get the shank you gave me on Saturday?’

‘Mince gave it me. I’m his Younger, and I’ve done good.’

‘And the gun? Where did you get the gun you put in the shed?’

Luanne shrugged. ‘I got it from them.’

‘Who?’

‘What’s got into you?’ Luanne demanded. ‘You know who.’

Jason sighed softly. ‘I need you to say it.’

Alysha’s chocolate-coloured eyes widened. ‘Hey, are you in with the Feds or something?’ She blinked, and he knew she had him sussed. ‘He’s wearing a wire,’ she said to her sister. ‘He didn’t get bail. He’s got no money.’

Alysha was the brightest and most streetwise of them all, Jason reflected ruefully. He nodded. ‘You’re right.’

‘Careful,’ said Georgia’s voice in his ear.

‘Is that why they let you out, so you’d grass for them?’ Luanne asked.

‘I’m gonna bring the Brotherhood down,’ he told her. ‘You’ll never have to be scared again.’

‘I ain’t scared,’ Alysha said. ‘I’m going on the streets, and when I’ve got my own money I’ll run the drug business and really earn. I’ll be running this estate one day, and I’ll be rich. Tell that into your wire.’

‘I’m taking you away from here,’ Jason told her. ‘We’re gonna find a better life.’

‘You’re really scaring me now,’ Luanne said, pushing him towards the door. ‘Get out of here, will you? I ain’t gonna take the rap for you being a grass.’

‘Drugs ain’t good news,’ he said to Alysha. ‘They catch up with you, and take you down. Either that or you get sent down. Let me tell you, prison is not fun. It’s cold and lonely and scary.’ He looked at them, aware his words were falling on deaf ears. He tried to lighten his tone. ‘You don’t deserve to end up there, but if you carry on working the streets and selling crack for Yo-Yo, that’s what will happen.’ He hesitated. ‘That’s if Yo-Yo don’t get you first.’

Luanne was looking nervously at Alysha. She was getting the message. He carried on.

‘Look at what he’s done to you – your arm and your face.’

He could see Luanne was trying to hide her fear.

‘I’ve lost my mum, my gran, and now Chantelle. You’re all I’ve got left. I’m not going to lose you.’

Luanne raised her voice. ‘Will you get outa here!’

‘Yo-Yo’s not in a good mood,’ Alysha said as he opened the door and came face to face with the cordons that marked the place Chantelle died. ‘He’s got his dogs down there to sort Mince out.’

‘You’re doing well,’ Georgia said as Jason walked back down the stairs. ‘We can already arrest Reilly for sex with a minor. But you still have to get him to hold his hands up to the three murders. We’ve moved on to the estate. You won’t see us, but we’re within eyeball of the Eagle block.’

‘There are dogs in there,’ Dawes said. ‘Be careful.’

‘The dogs scare me more than Yo-Yo,’ Jason said, heading for the rubbish-strewn pathway that led to the Eagle block. As he turned up the hood of his sweatshirt against the piercing wind, the sound of barking halted him. There were voices too, raised and angry.

‘That’s Yo-Yo,’ Jason said quietly.

‘Second flat along. No lights on, but they’re in there. Knock on the door.’

Jason hesitated. How he wished he was holding a gun.

‘We’re right here,’ Georgia assured him. ‘And CO19 are on standby. We just need to hear him say that he authorized the killings, and we’ll come straight in. End of.’