Read Online The Blue Notes by J. J. Salkeld - Free Book Online Page A

firm Max Baker, the son of the founder, had come round to Hood’s yard, and more or less told him that he’d be out of business in six months.
    ‘Oh, aye? You and whose army?’
    ‘That’s not the attitude, mate. You don’t know who you’re dealing with here.’
    ‘No offence, son, but you don’t look strong enough to lift a roll of bog paper.’
    ‘I don’t do any of the manual work. But then you already knew that, didn’t you? You’re just trying to be offensive. Deliberately offensive.’
    ‘Mate, I’m not the one telling someone I don’t know that they’ll be out of business in six months.’
    ‘So you’re one of the stubborn ones, are you? I should have known, I suppose. It’s always fun, watching the likes of you go down. They always do, like, in the end. But how much pain there’ll be, well, that’s up to you.’
     
    Even at the time it hadn’t come as much of a surprise, and it didn’t take long to get the background intel. An old army mate of his dad’s from Carlisle, Barry Cook, had been running fags up from the continent for years, and Hood was pretty sure that he’d know exactly who Baker had been talking about. He met Cook in a pub one evening soon after Baker’s visit, and when he’d finished selling his ciggies two hundred at a time the two men sat and talked. Or rather Cook talked, about how there wasn’t any money left in the smokes, and that he was thinking of trying his hand at something else.
    ‘Oh, aye?’ said Hood, ‘like what?’
    ‘That’s the trouble, son. There’s nowt left that Dai Young isn’t running these days. You name it, if it’s a bit dodgy and there’s a penny in it, then he’s into it.’
    ‘Really?’ That had come as a surprise. ‘Dai Young’s back, is he? Last I heard he’d left, with his tail between his legs. Christ, when did he become the king?’
    ‘Just a prince, son. Word is that he’s backed by some proper nutters from down south. He’s recruited a few ex-squaddies locally, as extra muscle, but I’m too old for that game. They’re all young lads, like you.’
    ‘So he’s on with the protection job, is he?’
    ‘Oh, aye, and how. It’s the usual shit. He owns a legit business, and he’s got a fair few now, and his lads lean hard on the competition. So Dai wins both ways. Either they stay in business and keep paying, or they get out and he takes over their trade. Nice work, if you can get it, like.’
    ‘And he owns a haulage business, does he?’
    ‘Aye, Baker’s. Used to be run by the old man, but he wanted to retire, the son fancies himself as a bit of a player, so….’
    ‘He got into bed with organised crime? Christ, how fucking stupid do people have to be? Young will eat the likes of him alive.’
    ‘Couldn’t pull the skin off a rice pudding, young Max. Just like you said. But he’s got Young behind him, so suddenly the little bastard’s cock of the bloody walk.’
    Hood nodded. ‘Thanks for the intel, Barry, it’s appreciated.’
    Cook reached out and put a hand on Hood’s arm.
    ‘You’re not planning to take them on, are you, lad? Look, I know you can handle yourself, like, but there’s only one of you and there’s Christ knows how many of them.’
    ‘Aye, point taken, mate. Don’t worry, I’ll not do anything daft. We all learned a thing or two, when we out there in the desert. And not just from our own side, neither. Fight a long, patient war, and use whatever you’ve got to hand, that’s what I say.’
     
    And tonight Hood had all he needed to get the job done. He’d reviewed the online satellite view of the street and the yard, and checked and re-checked his gear. He didn’t have a gun, but he didn’t expect to need one. This would be just like his last visit to Baker’s yard. Straight in and out, as sweet as a nut. No bother at all.
     
    He parked the van a couple of hundred yards down the road from the entrance to Baker’s yard. It was a street of Victorian terraced cottages, and Baker’s