The Face (Harry Tyler Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: The Face (Harry Tyler Book 1)
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At 8 pm, a silver-grey Rover saloon drew up outside Harry Tyler’s flat in Stratford. The driver, wearing a flat cap and
red-tinted
glasses, sat motionless as the rear doors opened and his passengers spilled out. He followed them up the stairs and watched them kick in Harry’s door. The flat was empty. The driver took off his cap and glasses and pushed past his silent, Kosovan enforcers. As he walked from room to room he drew a silver revolver. One of the Kosovans called out from what used to be Harry’s bedroom. The far wall was covered in graffiti: “Why is Johnny Baker like Millwall FC? They’re both going down.” Underneath it was a crude drawing of crossed hammers. The bewildered Kosovans looked on with eyebrows raised as Dougie The Dog started to kick and punch the wall.

 

 

At 8.45 pm Lesley Gore was eating take-away chips when the bell rang. She should have known better than to answer her door. Dougie The Dog knocked her straight to the floor then pulled her screaming into the living room where he punched her repeatedly until she was unconscious, ripped off her knickers, greased his cock with spit and brutally raped her while his men searched the flat for Harry Tyler.

“Anyone else wanna go on this SLAG?’ he said to his hired East European help. Two of the four took The Dog up on his offer. Doug watched them disinterestedly as he helped himself to the chips. When they had finished, Doug kicked Lesley hard, breaking two of her ribs. “You fucking whore,” he screamed at her unconscious body. “Know what you’re worth? Two bob.” He flung a ten pence piece at her face and stomped out, with the Kosovans in hot pursuit.

 

 

At 9.37 pm the Rover was back in East London, outside the Trojan. Dougie looked at, the pub in disbelief. The sign was gone, the windows had been boarded up and the front door was covered with a padlocked metal grille. The upstairs windows had been whitewashed and a “For Sale” sign was bolted to the upper wall.

The Dog got out of the car and crossed to the building. He pulled at the grille, but it wouldn’t budge. As he looked up and pondered, Dougie felt a warm wetness spreading down his left trouser leg. He looked down at the small black mongrel relieving himself against the wall. “Fucking thing,” he snarled, booting the dog which yelped and ran off. Doug looked at his leg and shook his head. There was no point petrol bombing the place now. He turned to stroll around the outer perimeter and saw an elderly, crippled man hobbling along supported by a
pine-coloured
walking stick.

“’Scuse me, mate,” said Doug. “Do you know when this pub closed? I was supposed to meet a friend here a couple of weeks ago, but I couldn’t make it.”

“Search me, guv’nor,” the old man replied. “Couple of days ago, I think. I only went in it once and was told to clear off. No one drank there, just a load of film people.”

“Film people?”

“That’s who they said they was. The old boozer closed about a year ago, and they reckon some film company had it. We never see no stars going in there, though. We all got told to eff off when it opened up again.”

“So where are the people who drank in there?”

“They weren’t from round here, mate. Couldn’t say where they was from. There was blacks and all sorts getting in there. Drug dealers if you ask me. They even changed the name. It was the Coach an’ ’Orses before. They called it the Trojan. What kind of stupid name is that for a pub? Don’t even know what it was short for. Trojan Horse I suppose. Oh, well, there’s a good pub round the corner, the William IV if you’re thirsty.”

Doug said nothing. He just stared at the pub. Trojan Horse? TROJAN HORSE! The enormity of the deception hit him like a jackhammer. The Baker firm had been sucked in and blown out like bubbles. Dougie fell forward and stuck his hand against the wall to steady himself.

 

 

On Wednesday, Johnny Too asked to see Maurice Bondman. The solicitor found his client in an unusually pensive mood.

“Level with me, Mo,” said Johnny. “How is it looking? Be honest.”

“If I’m honest, it’s not looking good. But then, with luck and mercy and your wonderful personality in the dock, maybe you’ll get away with ten years, God willing.”

“You know how to make God laugh, Maurice?” Johnny Too said softly.

“No, how?”

“Tell him you’ve got plans.”

 

 

Thursday morning was beautiful. Even inside Florida’s Stanford Airport terminal, the young family could feel the heat of the sun and the waiting humidity. The Customs Officer checked the UK passport and entry forms and handed them back to the pretty woman with her babe in arms, and her tired but happy
stubble-faced
husband.

“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Dean,” he said with a smile. “Enjoy your stay in the USA.”

“Thank you,” said Kara Tyler, grinning at Harry. “I think we will.”

EPILOGUE
 
 

John Baker was sentenced to 15 years as a category A, high-risk prisoner. The judge recommended he should serve the full term. He became a born-again Christian and wrote the occasional think-piece for
Punch
and the
Guardian
about the injustices of the penal system.

 

Joseph Baker was buried with all the gangland trappings. Dodgy Dave Courtney organised the security. The following Sunday, the
People
told how Courtney and his fellow hardmen snorted cocaine from Joe’s coffin lid the night before the funeral. It was handy publicity for his first film,
Hell to Pay
.

 

Douglas Richards evaded the police for three months before he was spotted eating a pancake roll on New Cross station by the six British National Party bootboys he and Pyro Joe had battered in Bexleyheath. The beating they gave him was so severe it was nine months before he could walk again, by which time he was serving ten years in Belmarsh Prison.

 

Geraldine Bielfeld married a 53-year-old divorced music business executive whom she met at The Met Bar. They share a
million-pound
house and a £500-a-week cocaine habit in Weybridge, Surrey, where they host sex parties for swingers.

 

Lesley Gore recovered from the assault and left the area, but not before she and her younger brother Darren had broken in to Dougie The Dog’s house and stolen goods to the value of £3,500. They now run a successful British restaurant called Nobby’s Nosh in Benidorm, Spain.

 

Maurice Bondman, inspired by Judith Keppel’s £1 million win, went on ITV’s Who
Wants To Be A Millionaire
. He had reached the £500 question – name Jack Sugden’s recently deceased wife on
Emmerdale
: was it a) Sarah b) Sara c) Tara d) Bernie – when he suffered a fatal heart attack. “Fllarghhraghhh” was his final answer.

 

Harry Tyler, real name Harry Dean, quit undercover work at wife Kara’s request and transferred to the Essex Regional Crime Squad. She gave birth to a son in July 2001. They divorced 13 months later.

 

Stephen Richards made £3 million from selling the rights to his
Mobster
computer game and another £5 million from the movie spin-off. He and boyfriend Sally share a detached house in Chislehurst, Kent, and holiday homes in Nice, in the south of France, and St Petersberg in Florida.

 
 
GLOSSARY OF SLANG TERMS
 
 

Aris Arse (Aristotle=bottle, bottle and glass=arse)

Banged up Imprisoned

Bird Time in prison (bird lime=time)

Blade-runner Someone transporting stolen goods

Blag Rob (originally a pay-roll or money delivery in public place)

Blagger Robber

Boat Face (boat race=face; also Chevy Chase)

The boob Prison

Boost To hot-wire a car

Boracic Skint (boracic lint=skint)

Bottle out To lose one’s nerve

Brown bread Dead

Bullseye £50

Bung A bribe

Bushel Neck (bushel and peck=neck)

Charlie Cocaine (also Gianluca, Gianluca Vialli=Charlie, snow, Chas, sherbet, marching powder)

China Mate (china plate=mate)

Chiv A knife

Cockle £10 (cock and hen=ten)

Collar felt To be arrested (‘he had his collar felt’)

The Currant The Sun (currant bun=sun)

Dabs Finger prints

Dipper Pickpocket

Dog Telephone (dog and bone=phone)

Drink A bribe – ranging from a drink to a nice drink to a handsome drink

Dripper Prostitute

Drumming House-breaking

Earner Easy money

Feds Undercover cops

Filth The police (also Old Bill, Plod, Dibble, cozzers, rozzers)

Firm A gang

Fit up To give or plant false evidence

Four-be A Jewish man (four-be-two=Jew)

In the frame To be prime suspect

Frankie A cut-throat razor (Frankie Fraser=razor)

Friend of ours One of us (A friend of mine means he seems OK but hasn’t been fully referenced)

Gaff A house (also drum)

Gary Toilet (Gary Glitter=shitter, also Khazi)

Give a pull To impart words of advice

Gold watch Scotch whisky

Grass Informer

Grumble Cunt (grumble and grunt=cunt)

Gypsy’s A piss (gypsy’s kiss=piss; also Jimmy, Jimmy Riddle=piddle, slash, lash)

Hank Marvin Starving

Harry Semen (Harry Monk=spunk)

Iron Gay man (iron hoof=poof; also Duke of Kent=bent, Ginger Beer=queer)

On your jack Alone (Jack Jones=alone)

Jacks £5 (Jack’s alive=five; also Lady Godiva=fiver)

Jacksie Arse

Jamjar Car

K £1,000

K Ketamine (also known as Special K, Vitamin K)

Khazi Toilet

Khyber Arse, from Khyber Pass

Kosher The real thing

Long firm A business set up and allowed to run over a fairly lengthy period with the sole intention of defrauding creditors

Mark yer cards To give advice

Minces Eyes (mince pies=eyes)

Monkey £500

Moody Fake

Mug A stupid person (also muppet, ice cream)

Mulla To beat up

Mutton Deaf (Mutt and Jeff=deaf)

Nonce Child sex offender

Nugget A one pound coin

Oily Cigarette (oily rag=fag)

OP Observation post

Parcel A consignment of stolen goods

Patsies Piles (Patsy Palmer’s=farmers, Farmer Giles=piles)

Pet the poodle Female masturbation (also beat the beaver, hit the slit, juice the sluice, bash the gash, slam the clam)

Pete Tong Wrong

Peter A safe

Plates Feet (plates of meat=feet)

Pony £25 (also macaroni=pony)

Pony Crap (pony and trap=crap)

Pop Pawn (pop-corn=pawn)

Porkies Lies (porky pies=lies)

Puff Cannabis (also dope, grass, blow, wacky baccy, ganja, weed, pot)

Pukka A real deal

Rosy Tea (Rosy Lee=tea)

Ruby Curry (Ruby Murray=curry)

Rubber Pub (rubadubdub=pub, also battle cruiser=boozer)

Salmon Erection (salmon and prawn=horn; also lob-on)

Saucepan Child (saucepan lid=kid)

Schnide Fake (also Sexton Blake=fake)

Score £20

See You Next Tuesday A cunt

Septic American (septic tank=Yank)

Shebert A cab (sherbert dab=cab)

Silvery A black man (silvery spoon=coon; also Fergal, Fergal Sharkey=darky)

Slag A person with no principles

Slaphead A bald man or Yelland, one who wears the pink crash helmet

Slaughter A safe place to dispose of stolen goods (also slaughter house)

Smack Heroin (also horse, H, junk, skag, shit, brown, Harry, boy, the white palace, the Chinaman’s nightcap)

Sov £1 (from sovereign)

SP Information (starting prices)

Speed Amphetamines (also sulph, whizz, Billy, phets)

Spiel Patter

Squirt Ammonia in a bottle

Stewards Investigation (from steward’s enquiry)

Stretch One year in prison

Stripe To cut the face with a Frankie or a chiv

Swede Head (also loaf, loaf of bread=head, noggin)

Syrup Wig (syrup of figs=wigs)

Taters Cold (potatoes in the mould=cold, also brass monkey’s, from it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey)

Tea leaf Thief

Thru’pennies Breasts (thru’penny bits=tits; also Bristols, Bristol City’s=titties, Earthas, Eartha Kitt’s=tits)

Tiddlies Chinese people (tiddly wink=chink)

Tin-tack Sack

Tits up To go wrong, or pear-shaped; as in “it’s all gone tits up”.

Tom Jewellery (tomfoolery=jewellery)

Weasel Coat (weasel and stoat=coat)

Whistle Suit (whistle and flute=suit)

Wipe his mouth To put up with the situation

Wrong ’un Bad or untrustworthy person

Yelland
see Grumble

Copyright
 
 

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ePub ISBN 978 1 78219 354 8
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This edition first published in paperback in 2001.

 

ISBN: 978 1 78219 354 8

 

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