Slowly getting up from his bed, Ricky frowned. ‘What, more clothes? Jeez, me nan’s right spoiling me, eh?’
Mike popped back inside the cell and laughed. ‘You wait until you get out of ’ere. She’ll have you up Oxford Street kitting you out in whatever the hell ya like and . . . ’ He paused and gave a cheeky grin. ‘Pops will be taking you shopping too, but not for clothes.’
Ricky’s eyes widened; he was so excited, but he never predicted what his father would say next.
‘The new BMW model’s out soon, and he thinks it has ya name written all over it.’
Like an electric shock, Ricky jolted. ‘What?’ His skin suddenly became covered in goose bumps. ‘No way. Oh my God! A BMW? That’s way too much.’
Lou shook his head. ‘I bet that’s just the start as well, trust me. Ricky, your grandparents will want to give you the world and quite rightly so. You’ve twelve years of catching up to do, mate. Me, I’d soak it up and savour every bit of it.’
Ricky’s eyes returned to look at his father. ‘But that’s such a lot. A new car. Wow! I never thought. Well, what I mean is . . . I can’t believe my life could go from nothing to now this.’
‘Well, get bloody used to it, Son. You’ll never go without again. So, start thinking about which motor you’d really like, and when we get out, you can go on one of those intensive driving courses and get ya licence. You can cruise around in a nice set of wheels, a pair of Ray-Bans, and all the designer clothes ya can wear.’
Ricky lowered his gaze. ‘Dad, I’m not really into all that designer gear. I’d be happy with clothes that actually fitted, and, to be honest, I’d feel better if I could work for my money.’ He looked up and grinned. ‘Let me on the firm, Dad . . . Well, I ain’t gonna be a lawyer, am I?’
Lou shuffled uncomfortably. This was really a private conversation and one best left for Mike. ‘Look, I’ll catch ya later.’
Mike sat back down on the bed. ‘Listen to me, sunshine. I’ve enough money for us to live more than comfortably, and there’s no need for you to go down the same road as me. It’s hard, ruthless, and extremely dangerous. Look at the boys and me. We had a target on our back for years.’ He paused for a moment and sighed. ‘No doubt there’ll be another firm wanting to muscle in. It’s always gonna be dog eat dog in our world, and I don’t want that for you.’
With a stern face, Ricky replied, ‘I understand that, Dad. Really, I do. But what if it’s what I want? I’m eighteen now. Don’t I get a say in this?’
‘Sorry, Son, if I sounded a bit controlling, but, surely, you can see I’m looking out for ya, can’t ya?’
Ricky’s face relaxed. ‘I know, Dad. Sorry. The thing is, I’m a crook, not by my choice, but by my own muvver’s selfishness, so I don’t know much else. I don’t want to be a thief robbing innocent people’s houses, though. I hated it, every bloody single second of it, but I hate the authorities too. I mean, where were they when I was growing up? ’Cos they sure as hell never looked out for me.’
Mike felt his son’s pain again and this time he gave him a hug. ‘All right, let me think about it. I’m sure we can find you something to do that won’t put your liberty at risk and also make ya a bit of money. You’ve probably got a sharp eye and could show us oldies a thing or two.’
‘All I did with Tatum’s lot was watch and listen. I didn’t spend any time talking. The funny thing is when you can’t speak, people assume that you’re deaf as well.’
‘Well, let’s get out of this dump first and get back to normality and then make a decision. In the meantime, ya deserve a nice car, so start thinking about which one ya fancy. No ifs or buts.’
Ricky’s face glowed, and he chuckled. ‘Righto, chief.’
With a towel over his shoulder, Mike winked and was gone, leaving Ricky to get ready and daydream about driving a car.
After a few moments, Ricky was pulled from his fantasy by the dark, daunting face of Dez, peering into the cell. He immediately jumped to his feet. A week ago, he would have been shaking all over, terrified of the man, but not today. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ he brazenly hollered.
Dez looked sheepish. It was an expression that probably most of the inmates hadn’t been privy to. ‘Look, no beef, bro, yeah?’
‘Fuck off. No beef? Bro? I ain’t ya bro. You’re only here because ya know me ol’ man wants to fuck you up.’
The cold, cocky words leaving Ricky’s mouth left Dez totally shocked. It was more than a stark contrast to the timid boy who’d only arrived a few weeks ago. Dez’s eyes were on stalks, and for a moment, he was rattled. ‘All right, Ricky, I was just being straight up and apologizing for upsetting you, that’s all.’
Ricky stepped forward with a new-found stance, square shoulders, and with his head up. ‘Upsetting me? You held a knife to me throat. You wanted to use me as a woman. You’re fucking disgusting. Now go and shove your apologies up your arse, or me ol’ man will do it for ya.’
Dez daringly looked Ricky up and down. ‘So that’s it, is it? A threat using ya ol’ man’s name? A real man wouldn’t threaten me with someone else.’
Just as Dez was about to turn and walk away, Ricky spat, ‘No, a real man would rip you a new arsehole, but I would rip your head off!’
With an anger emerging, Dez gripped the doorframe and glowered at Ricky. As much as he was afraid of Mike, he wasn’t going to let a kid talk to him like that, not after seeing the boy as a pathetic mute, cowering in shame. The idea that overnight this kid had grown a pair of balls, and was now acting so arrogantly, didn’t sit well with him. ‘You fucking wait, ya little shit. I’ll have ya, mark my words, I will!’
‘Come on, then!’ screamed Ricky, who had gone from mellow to mental in less than a second. By inflating his chest and protruding his jaw, his face changed, demonstrating an intense fury that penetrated through his eyes.
It made Dez jump.
‘Don’t make fucking threats, you bastard. Come on!’ Ricky now hopped from foot to foot, holding up his fists.
Only used to a blade, Dez was taken aback. He’d heard how Ricky had poleaxed Tatum and Tyrone and wondered if he’d seriously underestimated the kid.
Unexpectedly, as Dez stood in the doorway, a colossal fist cracked him on the side of the head and knocked him clean off his feet. There was no wobble or unsteadiness, Dez lay on the deck, out cold.
Mike shook his head. ‘I forgot me toothbrush. Lucky I did, eh?’ He then looked at his son’s expression. ‘What happened, Ricky? For fuck’s sake, you weren’t gonna fight him, were ya?’
Ricky was still standing in a fighting stance, his face tight and angry.
‘Ricky?’
‘Yeah, Dad. I was gonna have it out with him. I ain’t scared anymore, like I said.’
Ex-Detective Superintendent Magnus Stoneham sat back on the modern, low-backed armchair with his fingers rhythmically tapping the end of the armrests. For a man in his early seventies, his demeanour mirrored that of Conrad, his youngest son, who sat opposite. Although Magnus was now grey, and he had thinner features and tighter lips than Conrad, the men were easily identifiable in many other ways as father and son.
‘So, how did the meeting go? I suspect if Mike Regan is anything like his father, then it began like pulling teeth.’
Leaning