Rentners had killed before. Knifed a man in the heart over an alleged drugs debt. He'd got off on manslaughter charges because the bloke had also slept with his missus, which meant extenuating circumstances. Nineteen times he'd stabbed him, the defence barrister at his trial describing it as a passionate rage in search of an outlet, which seemed a very generous way of looking at it. Some fucking outlet. The point was, though, that this was a bad situation. Rentners was unpredictable, he was violent, and he had a gun. Stegs was as scared as he'd ever been, but he knew it would be fatal to show it. He gave Rentners a look that said that he wouldn't forget this sort of treatment.
'Get 'em in the weights room,' said Rentners, ignoring him, 'and wake that cunt up. I don't want him missing all the fun.'
Yokes started to tell him that he was making a big mistake but never finished the sentence as Rentners let fly with a wicked right hook that sent him stumbling back into the wall. Yokes was a big lad, six two and about fifteen stone, but he was left dazed by the ex-boxer's blow, and offered little resistance as Rentners grabbed his shirt and pulled him back out into the hallway. At the same time, the one with the gun against Stegs's head hauled him to his feet and led him out the same way, keeping the weapon in position. 'Make a wrong fucking move and you die,' he told Stegs helpfully.
The weights room took up the whole of the basement. It was even more sparsely furnished than the rest of the house and, being windowless, was brightly lit by strip lights on the ceiling. It was also carpetless, and consequently quite cold. At one end of the room were two racks of weights, a treadmill, and several other exercise machines. A single leather sofa was at the other end, about thirty feet away, facing this makeshift gymnasium.
Rentners shoved Yokes onto the sofa, and Stegs followed a couple of seconds later. Their hands were then forced behind their backs by one of Rentner's gunmen, and amid continued protestations they were tied with duct tape. While this was going on, Brewster was dumped unceremoniously onto the stone floor halfway between the sofa and the nearest rack of weights. For the first time Stegs noticed a steam iron plugged into one of the mains sockets a few feet away from him.
'This is fucking ridiculous,' he told Rentners, trying hard not to look at the iron. 'We're here offering you money for your merchandise, and you're treating us like shit. If I'm a fucking copper, why aren't I wearing a wire, then? Come on, search me. See if I'm fucking wearing one.'
A tiny glimmer of doubt crossed Rentners' features, then disappeared. Tape their fucking traps up, Tone,' he told the gunman.
Tone stuffed the gun in his waistband and took the duct tape back out of his jacket.
'He's right, Frank,' said Vokes, trying hard to keep the nerves out of his voice. 'Search us if you don't believe us. Don't fucking do business with us if you don't trust us, but tying us up and doing all this is just going to make your reputation--'
He was forced to stop when Tone pulled the tape round his mouth several times over, before biting the end off it.
'You'd better make sure you never run into me again, Tone, you cunt!' snarled Stegs, as Tone prepared to do the same thing to him. When he'd finished, he punched Stegs in the side of the head, knocking him into Vokes. Their eyes met for a second, before they were pulled apart. Stegs thought that Vokes was more nervous than he'd ever seen him.
Brewster was taking his time coming round, so one of the other men disappeared into an alcove round the corner. The sound of running water followed and then he returned with a full bucket. He chucked it over Brewster, and now Stegs realized why the room wasn't carpeted.
Brewster coughed and spluttered and tried to sit up. Rentners then stepped forward and kicked him in the face. 'Lie on your front, now!' he demanded.
Brewster appeared confused but did exactly what he was
'Get 'em in the weights room,' said Rentners, ignoring him, 'and wake that cunt up. I don't want him missing all the fun.'
Yokes started to tell him that he was making a big mistake but never finished the sentence as Rentners let fly with a wicked right hook that sent him stumbling back into the wall. Yokes was a big lad, six two and about fifteen stone, but he was left dazed by the ex-boxer's blow, and offered little resistance as Rentners grabbed his shirt and pulled him back out into the hallway. At the same time, the one with the gun against Stegs's head hauled him to his feet and led him out the same way, keeping the weapon in position. 'Make a wrong fucking move and you die,' he told Stegs helpfully.
The weights room took up the whole of the basement. It was even more sparsely furnished than the rest of the house and, being windowless, was brightly lit by strip lights on the ceiling. It was also carpetless, and consequently quite cold. At one end of the room were two racks of weights, a treadmill, and several other exercise machines. A single leather sofa was at the other end, about thirty feet away, facing this makeshift gymnasium.
Rentners shoved Yokes onto the sofa, and Stegs followed a couple of seconds later. Their hands were then forced behind their backs by one of Rentner's gunmen, and amid continued protestations they were tied with duct tape. While this was going on, Brewster was dumped unceremoniously onto the stone floor halfway between the sofa and the nearest rack of weights. For the first time Stegs noticed a steam iron plugged into one of the mains sockets a few feet away from him.
'This is fucking ridiculous,' he told Rentners, trying hard not to look at the iron. 'We're here offering you money for your merchandise, and you're treating us like shit. If I'm a fucking copper, why aren't I wearing a wire, then? Come on, search me. See if I'm fucking wearing one.'
A tiny glimmer of doubt crossed Rentners' features, then disappeared. Tape their fucking traps up, Tone,' he told the gunman.
Tone stuffed the gun in his waistband and took the duct tape back out of his jacket.
'He's right, Frank,' said Vokes, trying hard to keep the nerves out of his voice. 'Search us if you don't believe us. Don't fucking do business with us if you don't trust us, but tying us up and doing all this is just going to make your reputation--'
He was forced to stop when Tone pulled the tape round his mouth several times over, before biting the end off it.
'You'd better make sure you never run into me again, Tone, you cunt!' snarled Stegs, as Tone prepared to do the same thing to him. When he'd finished, he punched Stegs in the side of the head, knocking him into Vokes. Their eyes met for a second, before they were pulled apart. Stegs thought that Vokes was more nervous than he'd ever seen him.
Brewster was taking his time coming round, so one of the other men disappeared into an alcove round the corner. The sound of running water followed and then he returned with a full bucket. He chucked it over Brewster, and now Stegs realized why the room wasn't carpeted.
Brewster coughed and spluttered and tried to sit up. Rentners then stepped forward and kicked him in the face. 'Lie on your front, now!' he demanded.
Brewster appeared confused but did exactly what he was
Similar Books
