Crooks - A London Gangsters Tale | COMPLETED

Chapter Nineteen

Wayne sat on the chromium stool at his marble kitchen island, staring down at the mobile phone in front of him. Beside it was a crumpled sheaf of paper with a phone number on it. Ever since Mikhail had handed him the envelope, he had been trying to make the call. But he kept finding he was too much of a coward. What exactly was he afraid of?

It was a tricky question to answer. But as soon as he reached for the phone, or let his eyes focus on the sheet of paper for too long, he felt the same all-conquering dread he had been feeling throughout his life, in one form or another. Sitting alone in the mansion that was really his father's property, it just seemed too good to be true. That the very thing he had been pining for all these years might finally be within his grasp.

He thought about Chloe. He had carried a torch for her for most of his life, and now she was dead. And not just dead – obliterated. Wiped from the face of the earth. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't bring himself to accept Mikhail's assertion that slaughtering the Linleys was the best and only option. Rob, yes. But the others, no. Wayne closed his eyes and replayed in his head that final brief meeting with Chloe on the doorstep of the home that would soon become the scene of her savage murder. He couldn't stop thinking about how differently things might have turned out if only he'd shown a bit of backbone. But he had let her slip away. And now there was no going back.

Then of course there was what happened to Ronnie Vincent. Ronnie was a cunt; a fucking useless waste of space who'd ruined his career and his life for the sake of a payout from the Popovs. But had he really deserved the prolonged torture and gruesome death that had befallen him in Spain? When Wayne had received the news, he had initially felt a rush of elation. But it had quickly passed, like the ecstasy of an orgasm. Before long he was left feeling hollow and depressed. Like himself, Ronnie Vincent had been little more than a pawn in a larger and more complicated game. His death was meaningless.

Wayne couldn't bear the thought of anything like this happening to his mother. He was afraid to lose her, as well. If he picked up that phone and dialled, he knew it was irrevocable. He was putting his mother and himself in terrible danger. Particularly if his dad found out. Now there was a worst case scenario. If David got wind of the fact that Wayne was in touch with his mother, he would know that he'd been engaged in a bit of double-dealing with his father's enemies. After all, who else would have dared to give him the information that David had gone to such extraordinary lengths to hide?

Wayne thought about the Linley wake. He had waited until Max wasn't around and then bribed his way past security into the chapel. Standing there alone with those four coffins, the reality of this sordid business – this wicked, wicked life – was inescapable. He was responsible for those deaths as surely as if he had pulled the trigger himself. And worst of all, he couldn't even convince himself that he hadn't known what was going to happen. He knew what the Popovs were capable of. He'd always known. But in his frustration and rage, he had ceased to care.

It was getting dark outside, but he made no effort to turn on the lights. As the dusk enveloped him, he merely sat there and stared at the outlines of the phone and the paper on the counter. Earlier, he had managed to coax himself into picking up the phone and keying in the first couple of digits, but then a wave of panic had swept over him. This was getting ridiculous. He was supposed to be a man, wasn't he? He gritted his teeth and grabbed the phone, but at that moment it began to ring in his hand. He looked at the screen. Dad.

With a quick, distressed sigh, Wayne jabbed the 'answer' button.

"Hi, Dad."

"Alright, Wayne?" David was evidently in a matey sort of mood. He spoke in that jocular way he had when he was keen to mask what he was really feeling. "How are you? Haven't spoken to you for a bit."