She was right, they were in the pool, or rather three of them were, the odd one out being Katie who was squatting right on the edge of the pool, grinding her cunt into Frank’s face.
“Hi daddy, Becky” she shouted as we walked across the lawn,
“Grab a beer and join us”
Beside me Becky slipped an arm around my waist and squeezed me,
“God she is such a horny little bitch Paul, I’m wet again and we’ve only just got here!”
“I want to see you two together one night”
“Yes please” she giggled, “I could cum just from thinking about it!”
Her mobile rang as I took two Buds from the cool box on the lawn, but when I saw the expression on her face, I put them back down again.
“Frank”, she handed him the phone, “It’s Gary at the Kings Head”
Turning to me she said, “I think you should round your boys up Paul, somebody’s just fire bombed the kings Head!”
The fire was out when we arrived and Thank God, no one had been hurt, two brews of firemen were packing their gear away and the station officer was talking to a police officer who was obviously in charge now that the fire was out.
The officer saw us approaching and grimaced at Frank,
“Well, well, well, Mr Charlton, what a surprise”
“Yes I’m sure you’re surprised Mr Hemmings, now who’s behind it?”
Ignoring the question, he turned to me,
“And who might this be I wonder?”
“It might be the fucking Pope, but it’s not” I growled and the sneering smile left his face.
“This is Paul Halford, Mr Hemmings, of Halford Securities, Paul this is chief inspector Hemmings, we’re old friends” he added,
“Anything but friends Mr Charlton” he said dryly and turning to me said,
“And may I ask what interest you have in things Mr Halford?”
“Yes”
“Yes what?”
“Yes you may ask” I was fascinated at how quickly his neck was turning red!
Frank stepped in before I upset the poor chap any more,
“I’ve hired Mr Halford’s company to look after the security of my groups investments, from now on, he’s in complete charge of everything to do with security in any of my business interests”
“Yes” the policeman looked me up and down like I’d crawled out from under a stone, “I think I’ve heard of your little company”
“You have me at a disadvantage then” I said politely,
“How’s that?”
“I’ve never fucking heard of you” and I took Frank’s arm before he choked to death with laughter.
The landlord told us he’d seen a couple of likely lads in who looked around a little too much and drank orange juice, (not exactly the tipple enjoyed by most young east enders in London!)
“Any names?” I asked, “Sorry Paul, they’ve only been in twice, but my money’s on them, one thing though, they drove away in a Jensen Interceptor!
In this day and age there can be no more than thirty or forty Interceptors in the whole of Britain, so it wasn’t really a surprise when Frank said,
“Billy Bingham!”
“Who’s Billy Bingham?” I asked as I smiled at our “friendly” departing police officer.
“He’s the only one stupid enough to do something like this, him and his older brother Bobby run all the rackets round here, drugs, girls, protection, you know the score Paul, wannabees with muscle”
“Right, where do I find them?”
“Know The Anglers on Fisherman’s wharf?”
I knew it all right, a little dive down by the old port of London, where even the rats wore overalls!
“Yes”
“That’s their dad’s place, they still live at home and that’s where they’ll be now, laughing their fucking heads off!”
A quick phone call diverted Joe and the lads and fifteen minutes later we pulled up across the road from what had to be the most unwelcoming public house in the realm!
Being a hot evening, a lot of the customers were sitting at the rickety tables outside, getting their tattoos sunburnt.
I unclipped my attitude adjuster from beneath the dash board (a baseball bat) and waited as the four cars of my merry men pulled up in the street, then I got out and made a big play of admiring the Interceptor parked outside the pub.
I nodded my head twice and all my lads piled out of their cars.
“BINGHAM”
Those not already looking at me, jerked their heads up as I took off a wing mirror with an effortless swipe of the adjuster. They stood up as one when I took the second wing mirror off and they sat down again as they heard several clunks and clicks of bolts being drawn back, rounds being punched into breeches and sawn offs being cocked!
“That’s Billy” said Frank quietly as a young fair haired lad came out of the pub and smiled at me.
“Joe!” I shouted and Joe came up to me cradling an old fashioned sten gun in his arms.
I cocked an eye brow at him questioningly, but he just laughed,
“The old ones are always the best one’s boss!”
The Sten carried a thirty round magazine, but was prone to jamming unless you took two out leaving twenty eight, in which case it was fine, unless you required accuracy, in which case it was fucking useless!
“Shoot him”
“Ok”
If I’d said “Slot him” Bingham would’ve died right there and then, but Joe knew the score and just aimed the weapon in roughly Bingham’s direction.
“The boy threw his head back and laughed, just like that, he had at least six fully loaded automatic weapons all aimed at him and he laughed!
Slowly, very slowly, he took off his jacket and let it drop to the floor,
“No guns, Mr Halford” he said pleasantly and held out a hand as if to shake mine.
“Joe?”
“Right here boss”
“If this dickhead takes one more step” I hesitated a second,
“Slot him”
“You got it”
“You’ve pissed me off a little bit, you know that don’t you?”
Billy’s eyes went suddenly very cold.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” and I put the attitude adjuster through a side window.
He clicked his fingers and a Neanderthal behind him rose up from his seat and handed him a mobile phone.
“Bear with me a minute” Billy said softly and punched in a number. He listened for a second or two and smiled.
“For you I believe Mr Halford”
I heard it even before I took hold of the phone and every fluid ounce of the blood in my veins froze!
“Daddy, oh daddy help us please, oh no, no, no, no!”
He took the phone from my lifeless fingers and said just four words,
“Rape the fucking slags!”
-To be continued…-