Livewire

Chapter 8

Dull morning light poured in through the floor to ceiling windows in the hotel room. Kyle came too, feeling groggy, dribble dried onto his face and pooling on the pillow. He shielded his eyes and wiped his face. His legs were tangled up in the sheets when he tried to roll over. His hand reached behind him for Angie but found only sheets. His eyes widened and he turned over.

"Hello lad." A man's gruff voice. The blurred figure in the shadows leaned forward. He sat up and frantically pushed himself away from the intruder, covering his naked self with the covers. Light flashed across the man's face.

Uncle Joe.

Realisation washed over him like a tidal wave. He'd been used. It was no happy accident bumping into Angie – Joe had put her up to it. She was there to lure him in so Joe could speak to him. His mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. "Joe. What are you doing here?" As if he didn't know.

"It's been a long time, Kyle." His tone was cold.

"Where's Angie?"

Joe sat on the edge of the bed. "I sent her out for a bit so we could have some privacy. We have a lot to talk about, don't we?" He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. A lot's happened in ten–"

"No games Kyle." The coldness had turned to ice. "One hundred large. You still got my cut, don't you?" The vein across Joe's bald head began to bulge.

"How did you find me?" He tried to change the subject. "I thought you got nicked by the fuzz that day." His fingers fidgeted beneath the sheets, slick with sweat.

"Oh I was. A lot of us went down that day." His icy stare intensified. "Not you though, Kyle. I made sure you got away safe."

He gulped again. "You did Joe. I can never–"

"I spent nine years in the clink. My first ever stint locked up. That was a long time with not much else to do but think. Contemplate every decision I ever made. Thing is, you think you know how somethin' went down, but other facts come to light, and you discover what you knew was all wrong."

"What do you mean?" His voice cracked.

Joe's jaw clenched. "I thought we'd just been unlucky that day. That the rozzers turning up was just an unfortunate coincidence. Turns out that ain't true at all."

"What are you saying Joe? Someone set us up?"

Joe shifted closer on the bed. "Yes. Turns out Coulter orchestrated all of it."

His mouth gaped open. "But you were in his inner circle. Why would he do that?"

"I asked myself the same question. For months, I couldn't work out why he'd done it. The only thing that makes sense is he was threatened. He'd spent too long away from the streets and he saw me out there everyday. Grafting. Building the loyalty of the lads. So he set up the job to get rid of me."

A deep scowl set on Joe's face. "The thing is. I'd never have known it if he didn't over play his hand. I was gonna get out early for good behaviour. So he hired some cunt to get himself nicked and try to shank me in the clink. Seems Coulter is a cheap bastard. I offered his rat more and he spilled his guts. Then I shanked him and broke out of prison. Decided to pay Mr Coulter a visit." His nostrils flared. "Then I put a knife in his guts too and watched the light drain from his eyes." Kyle drew short and fast breaths.

Joe's gaze turned to the floor. "Afterward, I reacquainted myself with Angie. She's my woman now and I take care of her." The irony wasn't lost on him. Joe used her too. "She's a very resourceful gal. Tracked you down in a few months. Now enough of the pleasantries." Joe leant his elbow onto his leg and looked him straight in the eye. He clenched his fist and his knuckles clicked under the tension. "Where's my money?"

"Joe." He looked around the room before meeting Joe's gaze again. "I don't have it anymore."

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

A shiver ran down his spine. What was coming next?

"You're a resourceful lad. So I know you'll come up with something."

Joe reached forward and Kyle flinched. The weathered hand with finger tattoos reached for something on the bedside table. A gun. Kyle hadn't noticed it sitting there all this time. He gulped. Joe stood up and towered over him, his wide neck casting an ominous shadow.

Joe tucked the gun in the back of his waistband. "You have four weeks."

The door burst open and his heart almost popped out of his chest. Angie stepped into the room and walked over. Joe put his hand round her waist and turned back to him.

"Angie put my number in your phone while you was sleeping. Call me when you've got the cash." He gave her a kiss on the neck, slapped her arse. "Let's go love."

Joe left the room but Angie lingered for a moment. "No hard feelings, Kyle. It was nice to see you. For old times' sake," she winked. "You were a great shag."

The door clapped shut behind her. He slumped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. His head pounded and his heart raced. How could he have been so easily fooled? And how the hell was he going to get Joe the money?

He threw on last night's clothes and made a swift exit onto the streets. A light drizzle was falling. Veracruz felt humid and clammy, but the wet soothed his face. His stomach churned and his head felt numb. He walked along the seafront back to where he left his bike. The sound of the waves hitting the wall below helped him to ground himself, keeping the nausea at bay. Two figures approached ahead of him along the promenade, their distinct clothing caught his eye. Both wore beige chinos and black bomber jackets. Cops.

His eyes dropped to the floor and he pulled his jacket in tighter. He paid them no attention, trying to appear as though he was minding his own business.

"Hola Señor. Tienes–"

"I speak English."

"Ah, perfect. We're looking for this man." They held up a limp piece of paper. "Have you seen him by any chance?" He studied the image on the paper. It was an old mugshot of Joe, next to a recent picture from an airport CCTV. He guessed from Veracruz airport.

"No. Can't say I have."

"We're inspectors from Interpol. This man is wanted, you see. Are you sure?"

He sighed and his insides groaned. "Not many white men in this city. I'm sure."

"He's very dangerous. If you do spot him, report it to the police immediately."

"I'll be sure to do that." He would definitely not. There was a code amongst criminals. Maybe he left that life behind ten years ago, but he didn't forget - never rat. Not because it was the wrong thing to do, but because the snitch usually ended up with a knife in their back. Mr Coulter had taught him that. Ironic that he was the one to end up knifed for ratting out Joe and the crew.

The Interpol officers left him alone to his troubles. Kyle stood still with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. He had a dilemma. He could walk away and wait for Interpol to inevitably catch Joe. Then all his troubles would disappear. Or he had another choice.

He pulled out his phone and found Joe's number.

"Got the cash already."

Joe forced a laugh. "That was quick."

"Look, you should know. There's two bobbies from Interpol buzzing about looking for you. They stick out like an angry boil, you can't miss them." There was silence down the line for a few seconds.

"Thanks for the heads up, lad. Looks like I'll be heading out of town for a while. I'll leave Angie here to handle matters." The line cut.