Billy Carter

Chapter 8.5: Jimmy Litton-Conway

I wasn't paying attention as I stood on the train, waiting for it to reach my stop in Richmond. I was too focused on the job we were about to do - my last job for Spike, I'd decided. No more after this. I was going straight and narrow - completely. I needed to, I was already on probation and the judge had warned after my last offence that the next one I committed, no matter how low-profile it was, was going to force his hand and I'd end up in prison. I couldn't afford that. I had people who relied on me.
"Hey! Hey, excuse me, he just picked your pocket!" an old man exclaimed, drawing my attention. At first I thought he was talking about me, but I hadn't been doing anything besides minding my own business. Then I realised he was talking about the startled, wide-eyed kid clutching a fifty, crammed behind me in the filled-up carriage. Then I realised I knew the little bastard. I grinned at Billy the Cashier and pulled him into a big bear-hug - to cover up his crime.
"Billy!" I exclaimed happily. "Haven't seen you in a while man, how've you been?" He blinked at me with confusion, and I turned to the old fella who'd caught him red-handed. "Don't worry about it sir, he's my little cousin," I reassured him. "It's an inside joke we have - to keep each other on our toes, you know? I appreciate your concern though."
The old man's face relaxed and he smiled. "Oh, no problem!" he told me, and turned to Billy. "My apologies," he said, "but you can never be too careful in this city."
"Too right," Billy agreed, flashing him a smile as he gave me back my money. I put it in my wallet this time.
"Where're you headed, cuz?" I asked Billy, putting my arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.
"Richmond, same as you," he answered. "Gonna study with a minted friend."
"Right."
"What're you doing in Richmond?" he asked me with a curious frown.
"Working," I told him.
"What is it that you do again?"
"I'm a removalist."
"That's right."
For the rest of the trip into Richmond, we entertained ourselves by making up stories and memories of our fake relatives, still pretending to be related so we wouldn't blow Billy's cover. We both got off at the same stop and I sat Billy down on a bench a little ways from the crowd so we had more privacy and I could stop pretending to be his cousin.
"Now," I told him, looking him seriously in the eyes and smiling. "Lesson number one in pick-pocketing is to make sure you don't get caught, dumbass."
"I'm sorry about that, if I'd known it was you I wouldn't have-"
"Yeah, I'm sure," I interrupted, not very interested in his apology - the money wasn't mine anyway, I'd picked it from the pocket of another woman about ten minutes earlier. "At least let me give you some tips and tricks, alright?" I asked Billy.
"What do you know about pick-pocketing?" he asked curiously. I smirked.
Oh boy, if only he knew, I thought to myself. Aloud I said; "I'm a professional. Remember when I said I was a removalist? That's the most accurate legal description I can think of for my real job."
"Oh," he said, as the realization dawned on him. "So you steal for a living or something?"
"That's half of it."
"Cool." He grinned excitedly at me.
"It's not cool," I said, shaking my head. "Stay in school and get a real job, alright?"
"Yessir." Cheeky little prick.
"But if you're going to steal you may as well do it properly..." I sighed, and he looked up at me eagerly. "Well, first thing you want to do is pick the right target," I told him, and for the next ten or so minutes I gave him a few other tips about swiping wallets and purses. Eventually he opened up his school bag to show me the wallets he'd taken earlier.
"Not bad, huh?" he asked me.
"How much did you get?"
"Pittance from most, but this one had three-hundred quid in it," he told me, sorting through them. "I was gonna dump the wallets in the public toilets at the station, but then my train came."
"Well, speaking of," I glanced at my watch. "I've got to go now, or I'll be late for an appointment," I told him with a sigh as I stood up from the bench.
"Wait, can I ask you a favour?" Billy asked, zipping up his school bag and putting it on his back.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Can you take this and buy me a couple packs of cigarettes?" he asked, and held up a one-hundred pound note for me. I smiled and took it.
"Sure. Meet you back here at nine?"
"Sure."
"How old are you?" I asked. He looked maybe seventeen, but I felt like he might be younger.
"Seventeen next month. How old're you?"
"Nineteen," I answered. "Alright, I'll see you here at nine."
"Yeah, see ya JJ!"
"Call me Jimmy," I told him, smiling at his enthusiasm.
"Ok." We smiled at each other and then we each went our separate ways.
By the time I got to the address Spike had given me, the time was six-thirty. I saw a broad-shouldered man leaning against a lamp-post, smoking a cigarette.
"Hey man," he said as I approached him. "Have you seen my dog?"
"Is his name Spike?" I asked, making sure I sounded as bored as I felt answering his secret code. "Fuck's sake, this is a simple B and E, not a goddamned bank robbery."
"Hey, Spike's orders, man. What the fuck took you so long?"
"Train was late. Let's get this over with - where are the others?"
"Waiting by the house. Come on, let's go and catch them up."
"Fine."
We walked around the block in silence to met up with two more of Spike's cronies at the otherwise deserted bus stop. One guy had bright pink hair, and the other turned out to be Spike himself.
"Hey, this is the last job I'm doing for you, by the way," I told Spike. "I'm done after this, ok? Finished. Retired. I'm only doing this because I owe you a favour, but after tonight, no more."
Spike grinned, showing off his drug-rotted teeth, and threw his smoked cigarette onto the pavement in front of me.
"We'll see how long that lasts, won't we JJ?" Spike said with a grin.
"JJ?" The pink haired boy asked. He looked about Billy's age, sixteen or seventeen, except he looked gaunt, he was sweating heavily, his clothes hung off him like they were five sizes too big and he was holding his stomach like his guts might fall out. "You're the guy who got fifty kilos of China white past the rozzas, yeah?"
"Stroke of luck," I told him.
"Stroke of genius is more like it," said the big guy. "I'm Simon, by the way. Fairy-boy here's Danny." Danny rolled his eyes at being called a fairy, and Spike cleared his throat to get our attention back.
"Enough getting to know each other, in fact the less you know the better, just in case anyone gets caught or questioned by the piggies."
"If you don't want us to be easily identified, why did you invite pink hair over here?" I asked, pointing to Danny. "Not to mention he's obviously in withdrawal - that's just dangerous."
"He'll get his fix after he does this little favour for me - or would you prefer someone high on smack on our team?"
"I'd prefer to leave him here," I said. "It's risky and you know it."
"Risk is my middle name, James. Anyway, his hair's going to be covered - and so will both of yours and mine. Take these, but don't put them on until I say so." Spike tossed us each a small black ball of cloth. Upon closer inspection I could see it was a balaclava. "And these, too." Next Spike briefly looked over his shoulder, and seeing the street was deserted he handed out brand-new black pistols to us.
"I've never shot a gun before," Danny said, taking the gun hesitantly.
"Here," I held out my hand and he gave me his gun. I made sure the safety was on before giving it back. "The safety's on. What you want to do is leave it on, and keep your fingers away from the trigger. We aren't going in to hurt or kill anyone, we just want to scare them into doing what we say. If anything goes wrong you run, you don't shoot. Getting busted for armed robbery is a lot better then getting busted for murder," I told him.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"No-"
"Well don't lie to the kid now," Spike taunted me, grinning his horrible rotten grin and I grit my teeth.
"I didn't kill him, Spike," I snapped.
"Well you're the reason he died, it's the same thing," Spike said with a shrug. "That's why you're trying so hard to get Viv off horse, isn't it? Or is that just because you don't like me?"
"Bit of both," I muttered.
"What are you talking about?" Simon asked.
"Fratricide," Spike told him with a smile, and I shot Spike a glare. "Enough of that though, we have a job to do," Spike said. "Let's get moving."
Spike led the way down a few more streets, then down a tiny back alley behind some of the most luxurious houses I'd ever seen. He told us to put the balaclavas on, and then told us the plan, speaking in hushed whispers. Danny was here to break us in, it appeared - apparently he's a bit of a computer nerd. It was up to him to disable our target's alarm system, then it was just a matter of picking the lock and entering.
"So who's the target?" I asked after the briefing.
"Hot-shot defense lawyer," Spike told me. "Richer than Queen Lizzie. He lost Reggie's case a couple months back - we're going to make sure he pays."
"I thought this was just a theft?" I asked, getting angry. "I'm not here to beat anyone up, Spike."
"We're not gonna hurt anyone unless it's absolutely necessary, JJ," Spike assured me. "We're gonna ransack the place, pinch all his lovely wife's jewelry, and Danny's gonna hack the bank accounts. Money's the only language these posh assholes speak."
"Fine. Will anyone be home?"
"No, place should be empty - lawyer and his wife are out for some fancy dinner. Only wild card is the kid - he's a teenager, about sixteen I think. Not sure if he'll be out to dinner or out with friends or whatever. I've thrown some duct-tape and some handcuffs in the bag just in case he is home though."
"And what if he is home? I mean, aside from all the tape and handcuffs - why don't we have a little fun with him? That ought to send a good message," Simon chuckled darkly and I glared fiercely at him.
"No one touches the kid," I growled, noticing Simon flinch slightly and cower at my tone and the aggressive look in my eyes as I stood over him. Spike laughed quietly.
"Yeah, Simon, I wouldn't push that with Jimmy - it's a sore spot of his," Spike drawled, and I shot him a warning look too. "Let's get on with it, then. Jim, if the kid's home I'm going to put you in charge of him."
"Fine."
Without any more arguing we carried on with the job. We all took up our positions, and when we got the signal we charged the house and crept inside. The alarm didn't go off, so Danny had done his job.
No lights were on in the ground floor, leaving the house completely dark but for the light reaching inside from the light-posts on the street. It wasn't quiet, though - we could hear music blaring from a room upstairs.
We left Simon behind to watch out in case anyone arrived back home, and searched the expansive, richly-decorated downstairs for the study. We couldn't find it though, so we took our search upstairs, looking together until we reached the only lit room in the whole place - the teenager's bedroom, which unsurprisingly was also the source of the loud rock music.
"Go ahead, I'll keep an eye on him," I told the others, keeping my voice low. Danny and Spike nodded and rushed past the open doorway, continuing their search for the study.
I stood by the door, out of sight, and listened for the teenager's movements. I heard a cough, then the music was turned down to a quiet murmur. I peered around the door and saw Billy the Cashier collapse onto his bed, his phone pressed to his ear. I didn't know he was wealthy - and what happened to studying with his friend? Unless he was just a visitor, and the kid who lived here was around somewhere else...
"Hey Annabelle," Billy said - but he didn't sound like Billy. I looked closer at the kid, trying to make up my mind. He had Billy's black hair, but it was cut and styled neatly - Billy's hair was a little longer and stuck up at all odd angles. They had the same face shape, and many of their features were the same, or similar at least. But this kid was wearing clothes from expensive brands, and they were all ironed and clean. He wasn't shabby at all, not like Billy always looks. And his eyes were brown, not blue. He couldn't be Billy. "What are you doing tonight? Nothing. Nah, mum and dad went out for some fancy work dinner. I didn't want to go. What? Is that why you go out to your parent's dinners then? To flirt with the guy who's set to inherit the most?" he laughed. "What have you been up to tonight?" he asked, then suddenly his mood soured. "What?!" he exclaimed. "You went on a date with William fucking Carter?" Ok, so they knew each other at least. "Why the fuck would you do that?" the kid continued. "I swear to God I don't get you sometimes, Annie. One second you talk about networking with your parent's friends' kids so you can marry some millionaire in the future, then you tell me you went on a date with fucking Billy Carter? He's a deadbeat, Annabelle, he's got no future - he'll be lucky to stay out of jail once he leaves school! Actually, I have seen his record. In dad's files. On his computer, Annie. You know he went to juvie a couple years ago, don't you? Yeah, everyone knows that! For stealing. Not like a car or anything, just lots of little thefts. He's a pick-pocket. Or he was. Probably still is. He's an asshole, Annabelle! I do not start fights with him. That was once, and he had it coming. He's such a smug little asshole, everyone just falls all over him, and just 'cause he can play guitar. Yes, yes - and piano. Wait, really? Violin? Anyway, just 'cause he can play a few instruments, everyone's fucking obsessed with him. I'm not jealous, why would I be jealous? He's dumb as fuck, have you seen his test scores? And he always wears those stupid clothes that look like they're about to fall apart, would it kill him to buy a few new outfits? It's like he thinks looking like a hobo is fashionable or something. Huh? Oh... Shit, now I feel bad. Really? Why are they that poor? Well is he applying for a new job? And why doesn't his mum just get a better job? They can't be that poor if they still have a house, I mean really."
I'd been too busy wondering about the connection this kid had with Billy to realise that Simon had come upstairs behind me.
"Hey, they're back, we have to get going-"
"Shh!" I hissed, but it was too late. I heard the kid stop talking mid-sentence.
"Um, hang on a tick, Annie. Mum?" he called. "Dad?"
Neither Simon or I made a sound, and I waved my hand to gesture he should press up against the wall. Suddenly the kid stepped out into the hallway, but I was waiting. I grabbed him and covered his mouth with my hand before he could make a sound, and brandished my gun. His eyes widened in fear and I felt guilty - I felt like it was Billy I was threatening, they looked that similiar. "Tell Annabelle your parents are home and you'll ring her back later," I murmured in his ear. "If you scream or yell I'll shoot your brains onto the ceiling." He nodded, and I slowly removed my hand from his mouth. He put his phone back to his ear.
"H-hey Annabelle, my parents are home. I'll call you back later, ok?" he said without taking his eyes off me. I was a little impressed by how well he could keep his composure - I'm a tall guy in a balaclava, that'd be enough to make some of the bravest hesitate. "Alright, bye." I watched him hang up, then I covered his mouth again - just in time too, because we all heard the front door open and a woman call out:
"Kenny, we're home!"
Kenny struggled to call back out, and deciding he was too much of a risk I hit the side of his head against the door-frame to knock him unconscious and carried him into his room. I quickly set him down on his bed and Simon kicked his phone into the room by his bed on the floor - to avoid leaving fingerprints.
We hurried quietly through the house until we reached Spike and Danny in the study.
"We need to go, they're back," Simon told Spike and Danny.
"Hurry up Danny," Spike growled.
"It's loading, I can't control how fast it loads!" Danny exclaimed in frustration. "There, done."
"Good, now log off and shut down and put everything back how it was," Spike ordered.
"There's more to erasing a digital fingerprint than logging off," Danny muttered.
"Well do whatever you have to do and do it quickly! Jimmy, where's the boy?"
"I knocked him out and set him up on his bed. His parents will see him and think he's having a nap," I told him.
"Great. Did he see you?"
"Thanks to Simon."
"I thought you were guarding the study, not keeping an eye on the kid!" Simon exclaimed.
"Shut the fuck up, they'll hear you!" Danny snapped. He sat up from the computer and ripped a USB out of the computer. "Let's get out of here already!"
"Come on, out the window."
We all followed Spike out of the first-story window and sprinted to the back fence, climbing over it and landing on our feet on the pavement on the other side.
"Alright, the car's a couple of blocks over," Spike told us, taking off his balaclava. The rest of us took them off too, and he took back our guns.
"Did you get anything from the bedroom?" Simon asked.
"Yeah, I grabbed some things while Danny was working his computer magic," Spike told us. "I took her jewelry and his watch collection," Spike told us with a grin. "Let's go back to the hotel, and I'll pay you all your cut in cash. Except you, Jim. You can go home."
"What? He doesn't get a cut?" Simon asked.
"He owes me," Spike told him. "This job was his last repayment. Now we're even, right Jim?" Spike asked me.
"Right," I muttered. I was still suspicious - Spike wasn't one to take small favours as repayments (and yes, breaking and entering for him was a very small job). I was waiting for the catch to come, but he didn't say anything else and we parted without a fuss. I had some time to kill before meeting up with Billy again at the train station, so I walked to a liquor store to buy some cigarettes for Billy with the money he'd given me. I wasn't sure what he smoked, but he seemed like a mellow Richmond's guy to me. I bought a pack for myself.
I took my time heading back to the train station, then I just smoked and waited for him to arrive back.
"Hey, how tall're you?" I looked to my side when I heard his voice to see Billy standing beside me.
"What?" I frowned and took another drag on my cigarette.
"Nothin'."
"You try any of those tips I gave you?" I asked.
"Not yet."
"Go try 'em now. I've got your back if anything goes wrong, alright?"
"What're you gonna do?" he frowned up at me warily.
"If you fuck up?"
"Yeah."
"Yell at you. Just trust me, ok?" He only hesitated for a second - but it was long enough for me to slide the cigarettes and change into his pocket without his noticing. I imagined him finding them later and smiled to myself. I was a bit fond of the kid. He was like a little brother or something. He had some charm about him - naive innocence that shone through and intrigued me. I'd lost that attribute a long time ago.
"Alright." Then he disappeared into the crowd. I lost sight of him for a second, then I found him again, brushing past people and apologising sheepishly for pushing and bumping into people. I noticed he'd paid attention to my advice and was picking good targets. He took about half a dozen wallets and purses before squeezing his way back through the crowd to me.
We found our secluded seat again and he showed me his tidy little score. "Nice work," I commented, and gave him a smile. "Can I have the wallets? You can have all the cash, but I could use those for, uh, work," I told him. Maybe if I gave Spike all the IDs and bank cards he'd hold me in good favour and wouldn't ring me up for another job.
"Um, I guess," he shrugged and started going through his score and pocketing all the cash. "So what exactly do you do? I mean I get part of it's stealing, but you don't hurt people or anything?"
"No, of course not," I assured him. "At least, not innocent people."
"Well... what does that mean?" he asked, his eyes flickering up at me briefly before returning back to the cash in his hands. I smiled.
"I don't kill people, if that's what you're thinking."
"I didn't mean-"
"Train's here," I interrupted him. I took all the stolen wallets and zipped them safely up in my bag, and he pocketed his money.
"Hey, have you got my fags?" he asked as we got on the train.
"Yeah, check your pockets." I watched out of the corner of my eye and grinned as I he pat himself down, eventually finding the cigarettes in his jacket pockets. he looked up at me in amazement, like I was magician who'd just performed a card trick for a small child.
"How'd you-"
"Give me your phone number," I said - perhaps a little bossily.
"Why?"
"I have a favour to ask you."
"Yeah?" I took my phone out of my pocket and showed him a photo of my sister, Ashley.
"That's my sister. She's thirteen in that photo, but she's actually sixteen now - about your age. Her name's Ashley, she was taken three years ago by child protection services, and I'm trying to find her. I know for a fact that she's still in London, and I was hoping you could ask some of your friends about her or anyone who looks like they might be her," I told him.
"Oh, sure."
"Give me your number and I'll text you the picture. You can call me if you find her or anything."
"Yeah, no problem! I'll definitely let you know if I hear anything."
"Great." He gave me his phone number and I filled him in on what I knew about Ashley that might help him find her. Bill listened closely and assured me he'd ask his friends, then we both had to split up and catch different trains.
"Oh, Billy?" I turned around before either of us could lost in the crowd. He looked back at me. "6 foot 8!" I yelled to him, and he grinned back at me.

I was happy to be home, when I finally reached the dilapidated old building. I was sure it wasn't safe to be living in, but the council had never ordered us to leave. We couldn't afford to leave, anyway. My little sister Belle greeted me at the door, and I could hear the babies crying.
"Hi Belle, where's Viv?" I asked her, looking around the room for my girlfriend.
"She's asleep. I tried to get dinner ready for Nick and Tom but they won't eat it and Tom won't stop crying."
"It's alright Belle, have you eaten?"
"Yeah."
"Well it's getting late, how about you get ready for bed and I'll deal with the boys?"
"Ok." Belle headed off to the bathroom and I found the boys sitting in their highchairs in the kitchen. Nick was four and Tom was only just over six months old.
I fed the fussy babies, and plopped them in front of the TV while I went into the bedroom we all shared to get their pyjamas. I was about to leave the room when I stepped on something that crunched beneath my feet. Frowning, I opened the door a little wider to let more light in from the lounge room to get a look at what I was standing on.
It was glass. I looked up at the window and realised the pane was broken. My heart almost stopped. I'd committed enough break-ins to know one when I see it.
I checked the small closet, but it was empty. I raced around the rest of the house but I couldn't find anyone who wasn't supposed to be here - I even checked my mother's room, but I couldn't find anyone. Well. Beside my mother.
But why would anyone want to break in here? We have nothing. The only slightly valuable thing we have is the TV, and it's a little shit-box - I pinched it from someone's garage a few years ago.
Belle came out of the bathroom dressed in her pyjamas, and I asked her if she'd heard anything while I was out.
"I did hear glass break in the bedroom," she admitted. "But I thought Viv was having one of her bad turns, and you told me to stay away when she does that."
"No, that's right, good girl. But there wasn't anything else after that?" I asked because from where the glass had fallen inside meant that the window was broken from the outside - and if Viv was in the bedroom then she couldn't have done it.
"No, Viv just carried on like usual - throwing things, crying, all that stuff," Belle said with a shrug. A lump caught in my throat.
"Ok, can you please stay out here and get the babies ready for bed for me?" I asked her. "I'm just going to check on Viv."
"Alright. Jimmy, I know she's your girlfriend, but why does she have to live here? She scares me sometimes."
"I know, but she doesn't have anywhere else to go, baby," I told her. "You remember I told you how her uncle's a nasty guy? It's not safe for her to be there. We'll talk more in a second, ok? Dress the babies for me."
"Ok."
"Thanks love." I kissed the top of her head and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind me before I turned on the light.
Viv could've been sleeping, but I know a dead body when I see one. Her shirt was torn open, leaving her bare breasts exposed, and her knickers were down around her ankles. She was far too still and she wasn't breathing.
The OD wasn't an accident - if her state of undress and the broken window weren't enough evidence that she'd been attacked, it was the needle in her arm - one of Spike's signature pink needles.
And it still had a tiny amount of heroin in the barrel.
I leaned back against the closed door and sighed heavily. Vivian didn't deserve this. She'd been doing so well staying off and away from that shit, she'd just gotten a new job she was excited to start on Monday - she was turning her life around, like I was trying to, and I was starting to think we might actually be able to salvage something of our lives together.
My phone buzzed and I looked at the text.
SPIKE: Consider both of your debt's paid.
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to drive down to his hideout right now and choke the life out of him. He deserves worse for all the shit he's done to countless others - he started with me when I was ten, and Viv was thirteen when she fell in with his crowd.
Honestly, I'd be doing the world a favour - Spike's basically a serial killer when you look at all the lives his ruined and taken as a result of his actions. He's caused God knows how many ODs and suicides over the years - he's almost cost me my own life a couple of times in the past.
But I knew that if I killed him, I'd eventually get caught, and I couldn't afford to go to prison. I had people relying on me.
All I could do was take care of the dead girl in my bedroom.