AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I’ve hardly even spoke to the guy. He turned up on the wing recently, no one knows anything about him, other than he got straight onto the ones, and got a plum cleaning job that got him out of his cell when we were all banged up. He sounded foreign.’
‘He is. His name’s Almir Duka. He was in here awaiting an extradition hearing to return him to Albania. Someone hadn’t done the proper intelligence checks, and didn’t know that he had beenconnected to the New York Rudaj cartel before the Yanks deported him. He’d fled Albania after a bit of strife with a rival gang and ended up in Scotland.’
‘Why did the Albanians want him back?’
‘Attempted murder.’
‘Fucking hell. See what I mean? They have people everywhere, and wherever I am in the system they’ll get to me. They’ve too much to protect, Max.’
‘Well, you need to talk to us, Frankie. What are they trying to protect?’
Frankie scrubbed at his scalp with his fingers, his eyes wide and looking hunted. ‘Not what are they trying to protect, it’swhothey’re trying to protect.’
‘Who then? We can’t help you unless you give everything you know,’ said Janie.
‘Are we on the record?’ said Frankie, glancing side to side, worry in his eyes.
‘Frankie, there’s no lawyer, no tape machine and we haven’t cautioned you. This is intelligence gathering, not evidence. Now you called us here, so who are you talking about?’
‘I don’t know who it is.’
‘Then you’re no use to us, Frankie.’ Max made as if to stand up.
‘No wait. Look, I don’t know, right. I promise I don’t have a bloody clue, but my pa did and my brothers did, and they’d have it safe somewhere, and I might know where, leastways I may be able to find out.’
‘Maybe it’d be easier if you just tell us what you do know, Frankie, eh?’ said Max, settling back into his chair.
Frankie sighed deeply. ‘Look, seriously I don’t know who ordered that poor wee girl to be killed but I know why she was killed and I know who killed her, but they’re just the hired help. You want the mannie at the top, yeah?’
‘Of course. We want the bloody lot, Frankie. We go after corruptindividuals, bent coppers, bent lawyers and the like. We don’t go after the hired help.’
‘The killing was organised on behalf of someone my pa had in his pocket. He always referred to him as The Ace. Someone who wasn’t always big and important, but he became so. My pa had something on him and had done for years but I’m not sure what. The Ace ended up having an affair with the Polish girl, who started causing problems, so whoever he was went to my pa for help, and he used a contractor to take her out.’
‘So, your pa sorted it for him?’
‘Jack Slattery was the middle man, and he made the arrangements, you remember Jack?’
‘How could I forget?’ said Max with a straight face remembering his last confrontation with the bent ex-cop.
‘Aye well, Jack reached out to a proper nasty bastard who does this kind of thing. I don’t know his proper name, but he’s known as Droopy because he’s a right miserable-looking bastard, like the cartoon dog character – know who I mean?’
‘I know the cartoon character, but I don’t know another Droopy.’
‘You’ll be able to find him. There were also another couple of guys, one called Billy Watson, who’s no longer with us – died in jail – and another dude called Mitch. Mitch got out of the game totally and went straight, but Droopy is still active and is a fucking evil bastard. I know this because Pa was scunnered with him; after the hit, somehow Droopy started working for The Ace. Pa thought this was cheeky as fuck, but didn’t want to rock the boat, as Droopy is such a difficult bastard to keep on top of. Pa ended up allowing it in exchange for a bit of tax from him. Droopy’s ex-army, keeps out of normal trouble, and just sorts out problems for rich bastards who can afford to pay. And I mean proper pay. He makes a fucking fortune. Whoever is behind this will be rich, as Droopy charges big dough. Slattery will know who he is, for sure. You could ask him.’
Max and Janie exchanged a glance. ‘You’ve not heard then? I thought the prison grapevine would be buzzing,’ said Max.
‘No, what?’ said Frankie, his eyes widening and the colour draining from his face.
‘Jack was murdered in his cell by a lifer called Galbraith, and Mitch was shot in the face at his place in Newcastle.’
‘What?’ His mouth was agape, his eyes like saucers, and the remaining colour leached from his face.
Max just shrugged.
‘When?’
‘Very recently.’
