The diamond hunters, p.14
The Diamond Hunters, page 14
‘Without supervision? Yeah, most of them.’
‘Good. Good. Well, maybe I can work with you. I’m short of bodies at the moment.’
Dahl liked the sound of that. He sat forward. ‘Are you the boss?’
‘Of you – yeah.’
‘Sorry, I meant the big boss? Of the entire operation.’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘We like to know who we’re working for,’ Dahl said.
‘Nah, that’d be someone else.’
‘Do we get to meet him? Is he local?’
‘I can’t say,’ Rose shrugged. ‘Sometimes he drops by. He likes to keep his distance.’
‘So you’re the second in command?’
‘That’s me. Why are you asking all these questions?’
Dahl realised he’d pushed it too far. ‘Just interested. Like I said, I like to know who I’m working for.’
‘Well, keep the questions to a minimum. Like I said, I have a job you could do. The pay’s good. The hours are good. And it can be fun if you enjoy your work.’ He gently touched his bruised eye and flinched.
‘What happened to you?’ Kinimaka asked conversationally.
Rose just ignored him. ‘There’s this gang of drug dealers. No name; they’re not intelligent enough. I say gang – there’s five of them. They work an area of roughly ten streets in central London. I want that area reduced to three streets. Do you think you can handle it?’
‘Just point us in the right direction,’ Dahl said. ‘Five drug dealers shouldn’t be a problem. Are they armed?’
‘They carry knives, maybe iron bars, that kind of thing. They’re small fry. You shouldn’t encounter any problems, but it needs to be done.’
‘I didn’t think you were into drugs,’ Kinimaka said.
‘It’s not for us; it’s for a client. All the jobs I give you will be for a client. I have to rely on you. Tonight’s job is a test. You get me?’
‘Understood. We won’t let you down,’ Dahl wondered how he could steer the conversation back to the boss. It probably wasn’t a good idea. Rose had already called him out for asking questions.
‘When do you want the job done?’ Kinimaka asked.
‘Any time tonight. I’ll give you an address. All you have to do is confront and convince them. We’ll see how you do.’
‘And when we succeed?’ Dahl asked. ‘What then?’
Rose shrugged. ‘Then there’ll be more jobs. More money. More respect. There’s a definite pecking order among the men and women who work for me.’
‘Creates rivalry,’ Dahl said. ‘It’s a good idea.’
Rose looked pleased with himself. Dahl was hoping he’d bring something up about the boss himself and wanted to keep him talking. As they waited, Rose took out a bottle of bourbon and poured himself a stiff drink. He didn’t offer it around.
‘Will there be cops about?’ Kinimaka asked another good question.
‘Tonight?’ Rose drained half the glass. ‘Unlikely. They make the odd patrol every now and again, but they have bigger fish to fry. They’re normally after us.’ He grinned. ‘That’s why the boss likes to keep his distance.’
Dahl saw his opportunity and seized it. ‘He doesn’t come around much?’
‘Nah, he’s too busy. But he does like a drink. I’ll give him that. That’s when he meets the boys and girls.’
‘The th… people who work for you?’ Dahl had almost said thugs.
‘Yeah, the boss likes to party. And he’s knockin’ on a bit now.’
‘Knocking on?’
‘Getting old. He’s pushing fifty.’
Dahl wasn’t sure that qualified as old. He said nothing. Rose drained his glass with another swallow and then looked longingly over at the bottle. Dahl was happy to see him drinking, loosening his tongue.
‘Don’t stop on our account,’ he said.
‘I won’t. But it’s gonna be a long day. And I have meetings.’ He was about to say more, but clammed up. Three seconds later, he was reaching for the bottle again. Another two shots.
‘The boss likes to party?’ Dahl said. ‘That’s good.’
‘Oh yeah, once he’s on that dance floor you can’t speak to him. Ignores the guards, the babes, the boys and girls. He loves it. Good job he only lives a few minutes away from the club.’
Dahl was sensing gold. ‘That is good. Which club?’
Rose tipped back another slug. He opened his mouth to answer, but then a crafty light shone in his eyes. He blinked, realising his mouth had been running away with itself. He wiped his lips.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ he started scribbling on a pad. ‘Now. Here’s the address and my number. Report in when the job is done, and make sure it gets done tonight.’
Dahl stood up straightaway and took the piece of paper. ‘Consider the job as good as done.’ He said. ‘I’ll call you later.’
Rose nodded and poured himself another drink.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The London night was dark and cold. A chill wind swept the streets, scouring the concrete. Down the busy thoroughfares traffic streamed, red brake lights flaring. People thronged the streets.
But it wasn’t busy where Dahl and Kinimaka were. The whole team drove to the general area where the gang worked, and then Dahl and Kinimaka got out of the car with the others poised as backup. They had their comms fitted, but couldn’t risk the entire team going in in case Rose was somehow watching what went down. He might even have a rat in the gang.
The duo walked past a row of dour tenements, their eyes flicking every which way. The address they had was less than a quarter of a mile away. Nobody was on the street. It was after midnight. A full moon lit up the sky, shining brightly, lending a little light to the landscape. Dahl and Kinimaka said nothing as they walked.
Soon, they were at the address. It was a two-storey house, exactly the same as all the others on the block. It had bay windows and wooden fencing and a block-paved driveway. Dahl opened the gate and went right up to the front door.
‘You gonna knock?’ Kinimaka asked.
Dahl shrugged. ‘Why not?’
As well as jotting down the address, Rose had also given them the leader of the little drug-dealing gang. A kid named Patterson. Dahl raised a fist to the door and banged hard on the glass.
They waited. A long minute passed. Dahl was about to knock again when he saw a shadow on the opposite side of the door. There was the clanking of keys in a lock, and then it opened inwards.
A long-haired youth stood there, not more than twenty-five. His face was scarred, and there was a bright light in his eyes. He was either drunk or stoned.
‘Patterson here?’ Dahl asked.
The youth’s glassy eyes fixed on them. ‘Yeah, who wants him?’
‘Your new bosses,’ Dahl pushed the guy in the chest, forcing him back. He stepped into the house, grabbed the guy and checked him for weapons. He found none. The youth tried to cry out, but Dahl clamped a big hand over his mouth. He steered him down a long corridor towards a large kitchen.
They barged into the kitchen. The centrepiece was a long island, and it was around this that four other youths sat. They were talking with glistening glasses of alcohol in front of them, and joints lined up in rows, dozens of them. They had their heads down and didn’t look up straightaway.
Then, Dahl and Kinimaka were among them. The Swede threw his captive at one youth. The two smashed together and went tumbling to the kitchen floor. Mano grabbed another by the waist and hurled him off the chair into the fridge-freezer. He collided with a satisfying crunch and slithered to the floor, arms and legs flailing.
Dahl turned his attention to the last two sitting. They were wide-eyed and frightened, not the seasoned criminals Dahl had expected. They weren’t even reaching for weapons. Of course, they were very high. They might even be wondering if this was really happening.
The pain would convince them.
Dahl punched the first youth directly in the face. Blood exploded from his nose, and he fell back off his chair. Dahl reached down, grabbed his knife, and brandished it at the last youth sitting. The kid raised his hands.
‘Which one of you is Patterson?’ Dahl asked threateningly.
But the youths weren’t finished. The two Dahl had bundled to the floor rolled and got to their feet, knives clasped in their hands. One slashed at him. Dahl calmly caught the wrist and broke it, watched the weapon fall to the floor. The second came in fast, knife thrusting. Dahl let it flow past his stomach, trapped it and twisted. The youth yelped, stepped back. Dahl delivered a devastating elbow to the face that dropped him fast.
Kinimaka followed up with the guy he’d thrown into the fridge. The man was scrabbling for a knife. Kinimaka saw it, stepped on the nearest wrist, and leaned in. The wrist snapped; the arm stopped moving. Kinimaka kicked the knife under the fridge.
He reached down, hauled the kid up by his shirt and punched him in the stomach. ‘You shouldn’t be playing with dangerous weapons,’ he said. ‘How many people have you terrorised with that?’ He punched him again. ‘Bastard.’
Dahl again turned to the last man sitting. ‘Patterson?’ he asked.
‘It’s me. I’m Patterson.’
‘You run this sorry bunch of idiots?’
Patterson nodded.
‘Then listen up good. This is a warning. There are new rules. You listening?’ Dahl slapped the youth with both hands about the head and neck.
‘Yes, yeah, I’m listening.’
‘There are new rules. From now on you’re confined to three streets,’ he reeled them off. ‘The rest belong to someone else? Do you understand?’
‘Three streets? That’ll kill our business.’
‘I don’t care. That’s the new rule. If you don’t like it, call the cops.’
Patterson goggled, open-mouthed.
‘Listen,’ Dahl said very clearly for the sake of the stoned youth. ‘This is a warning, the only one you’re gonna get. You have three streets now, and think yourself lucky to get those. Adhere to the rules. That means stick to them. This has been a gentle warning. The next will be devastating. Do you understand me?’
The youth only stared, gaping.
Dahl slapped him again, this time harder. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Repeat it.’
The Swede listened as Patterson recited everything he’d said. There was a kind of understanding in his eyes. Kinimaka went over to kick another youth down, and then another. They just weren’t getting it. Probably too high to understand their peril.
Dahl leaned in to Patterson. ‘This is your only warning. Stay clear of those other streets. Don’t even stroll down them. If you do, you’re finished.’
Patterson nodded. Dahl felt that he’d done enough. He noticed that Patterson still had a knife at his waist and hadn’t even reached for it. He worried that the fuelled idiots would think this all a bad dream come tomorrow. Still… you could only try.
Dahl backed off, keeping the youths in his sights. Kinimaka had relieved them of all their weapons and thrown them under the fridge, out of reach. Dahl thought now to do the same with Patterson’s weapon. The duo backed off to the kitchen doorway and looked around.
Four youths were lying on the floor, groaning in pain. One sat at the island, fear and disbelief carved into his face.
Rose was right. It had been a straightforward job, and Dahl didn’t even feel guilty about it. These youths were the scum of the earth, dealing drugs and terrorising people. They deserved all the hardship they got.
With Kinimaka, he exited the house.
As soon as they were outside and clear, Dahl fished out his phone. He dialled Rose’s number and waited.
‘Yeah, this is Rose.’
‘Torsten Dahl here with Mano Kinimaka. We met today. You sent us to sort out the five youths earlier.’
‘How did it go?’
‘Excellent. The message has been sent and received. The youths were all high, but we got through to them, I think.’
‘Hope so, for their sakes. There won’t be a second warning.’
‘I impressed that on them.’
‘Well, good. You’ve done a good job. My new champions. Take the rest of the night off.’
Dahl laughed dutifully.
‘Seriously, I’ll have another job for you tomorrow. Come by the shop after lunch.’
‘That sounds good,’ Dahl said. ‘We’ll be there.’
Rose signed off. Dahl turned to Kinimaka as they walked back to the car. ‘Looks like we’ve got our feet under the carpet.’
‘We’re in?’
‘He just offered us another job tomorrow.’
‘We’re in,’ Kinimaka grinned.
‘But how do we get close to the boss?’ Kinimaka said. ‘We have to find out where he lives.’
‘That’ll come,’ Dahl said. ‘We just have to hope it’s sooner rather than later.’
Kinimaka nodded in agreement. Together, the two of them sauntered up the road.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Rose was back on the bourbon.
Dahl and Kinimaka had entered the travel shop a little after 1 p.m. They were instantly ushered into the back room, where Rose was waiting for them.
‘Great job last night, boys,’ the man raised a glass to them. ‘I’m impressed.’
Dahl inclined his head. ‘They put up a tiny fight,’ he said. ‘But nothing we couldn’t handle.’
‘How are you fixed for something harder?’
‘Tonight?’
‘While the iron’s hot.’
Dahl nodded and put a smile on his face. ‘What’s the job?’
Rose knocked back a double slug of the bourbon and reached for more. His eye looked slightly better today, not as bruised but definitely more colourful. He leaned back in his chair so far Dahl thought it might break.
‘The job, right?’ he said. ‘Well, there’s a nightclub called Silk’s. Some asshole has been beating people up outside the nightclub. He does it regularly and always avoids the cops. Different areas, different times. The guy who owns the nightclub is losing business. He wants the problem taken care of.’
‘Sounds like a job we can handle.’ Kinimaka said.
‘The guy’s just a punk. A bully. He needs taking down.’
‘Silk’s nightclub,’ Dahl repeated. ‘Tonight.’
Rose nodded and swigged more alcohol. Dahl noticed it was a fresh bottle. He wondered if there was ever an hour when Rose’s system wasn’t replete with bourbon. But they had their orders. They could get deeper into the organisation by carrying them out.
They killed time for the rest of the day before heading out to the nightclub at opening time. It was a cool, clear night. The streets were packed, and the noise level was high. Already a queue had formed outside the club. The front doors were currently closed, the appointed hour not quite upon them. Dahl saw a mixture of men and women, singles and couples, dressed for the night. He had already checked the surrounding area using Google Streetview, so he was familiar with the layout. He and Kinimaka would split up to maximise their chances of finding the thug.
The doors opened, and the patrons filed in. Dahl and Kinimaka nodded their goodbyes and walked away to their positions. They would patrol the streets. Dahl walked past the nightclub’s entrance and down the side of the building. He ended up at the back, moving slowly, looking all ways. There were several streets. He already knew they’d have to get lucky to find the perp.
An hour passed, and they were both patrolling the streets. Dahl figured the thug wouldn’t strike where it was busy, so wandered the quieter areas, watching and listening.
It was a little before midnight when he found success.
He turned a corner. There, right in front of him, a large man had a youth pinned to the wall. He was leaning in close to the youth, whispering viciously. From the description, Dahl knew it was their man.
The thug was broad, well-muscled and had blonde hair. His eyebrows were thick and bushy. His lips were tight, compressed, almost white.
The thug put a big hand around the youth’s throat, squeezing, and then punched the kid in the stomach. The thug grinned. He punched again.
By that time, Dahl was close to them. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Put the kid down.’
The thug jumped in surprise, then whirled. He still held the youth pinned to the wall. ‘Get the hell out of here.’
Dahl used the comms to contact Kinimaka. ‘I have him.’
‘You have who?’ the thug asked.
‘You,’ Dahl said. ‘We’ve been looking for you.’
‘We?’
‘The team. You’ve been beating people up around this nightclub. You’ve evaded the cops. You’re losing business. I’m here to make you stop.’
The thug turned on him, letting the youth slither down the wall. ‘Piss off, man. I can do whatever the fuck I want.’
‘Not anymore,’ Dahl delivered a harsh blow to the man’s chest. The thug staggered but didn’t go down. He coughed. His face went red.
‘Stop what you’re doing or we will come back and kill you,’ Dahl said. ‘Do you understand?’
The thug came at him, big arms swinging. Dahl found the attack laughably slow. He stepped inside both haymakers and nutted the thug point blank in the face. At the same time, he brought a knee up into the man’s solar plexus, stunning him. The thug stopped dead in his tracks.
His forehead split. All the air flew out of his lungs. His eyes bulged. Dahl was left with an easy target.
He stepped back and then battered the man’s head, striking ears and temple, eyes and nose. Blood flew every which way. The thug swayed. Dahl could have finished him right there and then, but he wanted him lucid.
The Swede grabbed hold of the man’s throat and pinned him up against the wall. ‘I could kill you now,’ he said. ‘Beat you to death, or just break your larynx, making it impossible for you to breathe. Are you listening to me?’
The thug tried to nod, but found it difficult. Dahl increased the pressure, watching the man’s eyes widen even more.
‘This time, and only this time, I won’t kill you,’ Dahl said. ‘This is your one and only warning. Stop hurting people around this nightclub. Now… do you hear me?’ He let go of the throat.
