* * *
After giving orders to his gang, Andy headed into the city. He had these recurring images in his mind that he felt compelled to follow and it was unnerving. There was a street name and three numbers; he reasoned the first number was the street address followed by the floor and room numbers. Arriving at the address he entered the building, walked into the lift and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The lift stopped. Andy got out and walked down a corridor looking at office numbers.
Two distinguished-looking gentlemen passed him in a hurry; another man who looked like a cop followed them. He hated cops. He found the office he was looking for and realised it was the same one those three men had hurried into. Andy knocked and walked in. Inside the office a secretary typed behind a desk. She looked up.
“You’re in the wrong office, sir. This is a private meeting.”
“I think I’m supposed ta be here,” Andy answered back.
The secretary spoke into an intercom and then said nothing. The tall fellow that had passed him in the corridor walked into the room. He had to be a copper.
“Can I help you, young man?”
“Yeah, look, this may sound funny, but I think I’m supposed ta be here.”
“This is a private meeting of the board. You have the wrong office. Please move along.”
The feeling inside Andy was growing stronger by the minute. He knew he was in the right place; he just didn’t know how to explain it. The man reached for Andy’s arm to escort him out, but Andy was too quick.
“Keep ya hands ta yourself, copper!” The man’s face registered shock at being called a cop.
“Well, if you know I’m a policeman, then it would be wise of you to move along under your own steam.”
“I don’t think so. We need ta talk first.” Andy was hoping his hunch was right. The copper eyeballed him and then spoke.
“All right, young fellow, speak!” wondering if this was the person Slegna had told him he was sending.
“I woke up with the address of this buildin’, along with the floor and room numbers and a funny-lookin’ number eight in me head.”
“Draw the number.” The officer handed Andy a pen and paper and watched as he drew a number eight sideways, the sign for infinity.
“It goes on forever,” Andy commented.
“What?” exclaimed the officer.
“It goes on forever. It just popped inta me head, like.”
The man indicated that Andy should follow him as he walked back into the room he had just left. Andy entered the office and saw the two other gentlemen who had passed him in the corridor sitting at the board table that was capable of seating twenty people. The side walls of the room were wood panelling and directly opposite were windows that went from floor to ceiling. Closing the door behind him he walked to the table. The other men viewed him suspiciously. He also noticed that the paper he had drawn on was now sliding across the board table towards them. They both stared intently at Andy. One of the men approached him. He was a thin balding man impeccably dressed, who stood five ten, and he eyed Andy carefully.
“What goes on forever?” he asked, looking at Andy intently.
Without thinking he responded, “That which never ends.” Andy didn’t know how he knew the correct answer.
“So, we have a new recruit. You must be a real bad piece of work to join our little group, boy. Tell us about yourself.”
Andy wasn’t stupid; the less they knew the better.
“Age before beauty, gentlemen,” Andy replied, feeling uneasy.
“I’m Duane. I have the job of inquisitor to any prospective business ventures. That muscular six-foot-six tree trunk in rumpled clothing that walked you in is Senior Detective Maleko; he’s protection. That leaves Harvey over there; he takes care of the money.”
Andy wasn’t too sure of Harvey. At five foot, sporting a nasty scar down the left side of his face and dressed flawlessly in a brown suit, his large gnarled hands looked like battering rams extending out from his jacket.
“Let me tell you about yourself,” Duane began. “You have three other members of your little gang. One is the basher, the other the follower and third is the snitch. Does that just about cover it, boy?”
Andy was in over his head, but he wasn’t going to let them see that.
“You’re right about everything except the snitch.”
“Really?” said Duane calmly. “Your snitch is the one who has been trying to get you to quit your life of crime. He is also the one your basher beat until you stopped him. Need I say more?”
How in the fuck did he know all that? Andy wondered.
“Save your brain cells, boy! The same thing has happened to us all. The hardest part will be to have your basher kill him while you, your follower and one of us watches. Got it, boy?”
Andy decided he had nothing to lose; he would either be dead or not.
“Listen, pop!” he exploded. “I ain’t no boy of yours or anyone’s, got it? If you think you’re good enough to take me, then have a go.” Andy whipped his knife out from its hiding place. “Otherwise shut that fuckin’ hole in your face before it gets shut for ya!”
The three men looked at each other knowingly and then smiled.
“You have guts, I’ll give you that,” Duane commented. “What’s your name?”
“Andy. I’m the brain and my basher is Terry. The follower, as you call him, is Mick. The one you call the snitch is Joe.”
“Well, Andy, put that pig sticker away,” Duane commanded. “Do you know what you’re doing here?”
“Fucked if I know!” Andy replied with false bravado, trying to cover up his fidgeting.
“Right, Andy,” Duane continued. “First thing, no more gutter language; it’s crass and sounds cheap. We don’t use foul language, nor shall you. You’re about to enter the big league and there are rules that must be adhered to.”
Andy wondered what he had got himself into. Whatever it was, they were rich and that would suit him.
Duane looked at him coldly. “We’ve been expecting you. You aren’t the only one given information. Between us we control most of the crime in the city. Maleko is in charge of the drug squad. If you deal in drugs, quit or he will bust your arse. Drugs are out!”
“I’m wiv ya. I hate drugs,” Andy agreed.
“Andy, it’s not us you need to be afraid of, but the one who recruited you. Do you understand me?”
He thought for a moment. Slegna sent waves of foreboding towards Andy; a terrible feeling started to engulf him. It was so real that he started shaking uncontrollably, turning white. Duane didn’t say a word. He just waited until the realisation of Andy’s predicament became clear to him.
“Your grammar is atrocious, Andy. You must be properly educated. Understand that if you doublecross us, we are unforgiving.”
The morning moved on as Andy was given a complete account of their operations and how he would be trained once he had taken care of the snitch. He wasn’t looking forward to that as he couldn’t bring himself to believe Joe would rat on them.
While Andy was being indoctrinated into his new life, Joe was at the park where Laura