search your motor was the boot.
As Terry leant into the boot to pull the heavy bundles free, Michael slipped a small lead cosh from his coat pocket. The first blow was enough to subdue Terry and knock him out. The next fifteen blows were just insurance; there was no way this ponce was ever going to recover no matter what might happen in the next couple of hours. Michael pushed the body into the boot and slammed the lid shut. Then, whistling under his breath, he got into the driving seat and started the car. He drove it deeper into the woodland until it was impossible to drive any further.
Getting out of the car, he leant in from the driver’s side and took the handbrake off. Then he used all his considerable strength to push the car, and its grisly contents, into a large, deep and extremely filthy lake. He had to wade into the freezing water and keep pushing until the car finally slipped down and disappeared out of sight into the murky depths.
Satisfied that it was gone, and that no one would know it was in there, Michael finally made his way back carefully in the darkness to his own car. His trousers and shoes were already hampering him and, opening the boot of his BMW, he quickly stripped himself. Once he had dressed in clean clothes and new boots, he got into his car, put the heater on full blast, and drove slowly back through the lanes. When he finally pulled out on to the A2, he put on his radio, and drove home at top speed, feeling good. He had achieved something.
Terry Gold’s disappearance was a nine-day wonder. His nephew’s bloody demise had been a violent lesson to anyone in the firm who harboured similar dreams of getting ahead by skimming. But the disappearance of Terry Gold, a happily married man who adored his family and always put them first, really frightened everyone who knew him.
No one was ever arrested or even suspected of having any involvement in Terry’s disappearance. On the other hand the Costellos didn’t ask around about him either. They didn’t discuss it, let alone speculate as to what might have occurred and that, in itself, spoke volumes. Not that anyone said that out loud, of course, but it didn’t stop people wondering.
Chapter Eleven
Michael glanced at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, pleased with how he looked. He was a man to respect; having the Costello brothers’ favour gave him the creds he needed to carry out his new businesses with the minimum of real effort. No one in their right mind was going to give him any kind of aggravation.
Since taking out Terry Gold six months ago, he now had his own personal earns. Patrick had given him the lion’s share of three very lucrative pubs, and a new nightclub they had recently opened in East London. All he had to do was show his face on a regular basis and collect the takings from his managers – it was so easy it felt almost wrong. He was coining it in, and he had to do fuck-all. But he was shrewd; this was just the opener. Once Patrick had seen for himself how Michael coped and what he could earn from the venues, he would then be asked to do some real work. Patrick was thrilled with him, and he had rewarded him well for proving that he was a man who could be trusted. It was just a matter of time until the serious graft was offered him. Michael couldn’t wait.
Josephine was standing at the far end of the bar, and he watched her for a few minutes. She was chatting away to her friends and, as he observed her, he couldn’t help smiling. Everyone liked her – she had no side to her and that was her greatest asset.
As usual she was the best-dressed bird in the whole place. She had a knack for finding the clothes that really suited her figure. She always looked well groomed, from her hair to her make-up to her nails. Even if she was only popping to the shops for a pint of milk she made sure she had her make-up on and her hair done. It was all part of her charm. He loved her femininity. She was fragile, vulnerable and
As Terry leant into the boot to pull the heavy bundles free, Michael slipped a small lead cosh from his coat pocket. The first blow was enough to subdue Terry and knock him out. The next fifteen blows were just insurance; there was no way this ponce was ever going to recover no matter what might happen in the next couple of hours. Michael pushed the body into the boot and slammed the lid shut. Then, whistling under his breath, he got into the driving seat and started the car. He drove it deeper into the woodland until it was impossible to drive any further.
Getting out of the car, he leant in from the driver’s side and took the handbrake off. Then he used all his considerable strength to push the car, and its grisly contents, into a large, deep and extremely filthy lake. He had to wade into the freezing water and keep pushing until the car finally slipped down and disappeared out of sight into the murky depths.
Satisfied that it was gone, and that no one would know it was in there, Michael finally made his way back carefully in the darkness to his own car. His trousers and shoes were already hampering him and, opening the boot of his BMW, he quickly stripped himself. Once he had dressed in clean clothes and new boots, he got into his car, put the heater on full blast, and drove slowly back through the lanes. When he finally pulled out on to the A2, he put on his radio, and drove home at top speed, feeling good. He had achieved something.
Terry Gold’s disappearance was a nine-day wonder. His nephew’s bloody demise had been a violent lesson to anyone in the firm who harboured similar dreams of getting ahead by skimming. But the disappearance of Terry Gold, a happily married man who adored his family and always put them first, really frightened everyone who knew him.
No one was ever arrested or even suspected of having any involvement in Terry’s disappearance. On the other hand the Costellos didn’t ask around about him either. They didn’t discuss it, let alone speculate as to what might have occurred and that, in itself, spoke volumes. Not that anyone said that out loud, of course, but it didn’t stop people wondering.
Chapter Eleven
Michael glanced at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, pleased with how he looked. He was a man to respect; having the Costello brothers’ favour gave him the creds he needed to carry out his new businesses with the minimum of real effort. No one in their right mind was going to give him any kind of aggravation.
Since taking out Terry Gold six months ago, he now had his own personal earns. Patrick had given him the lion’s share of three very lucrative pubs, and a new nightclub they had recently opened in East London. All he had to do was show his face on a regular basis and collect the takings from his managers – it was so easy it felt almost wrong. He was coining it in, and he had to do fuck-all. But he was shrewd; this was just the opener. Once Patrick had seen for himself how Michael coped and what he could earn from the venues, he would then be asked to do some real work. Patrick was thrilled with him, and he had rewarded him well for proving that he was a man who could be trusted. It was just a matter of time until the serious graft was offered him. Michael couldn’t wait.
Josephine was standing at the far end of the bar, and he watched her for a few minutes. She was chatting away to her friends and, as he observed her, he couldn’t help smiling. Everyone liked her – she had no side to her and that was her greatest asset.
As usual she was the best-dressed bird in the whole place. She had a knack for finding the clothes that really suited her figure. She always looked well groomed, from her hair to her make-up to her nails. Even if she was only popping to the shops for a pint of milk she made sure she had her make-up on and her hair done. It was all part of her charm. He loved her femininity. She was fragile, vulnerable and
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