Human Conditioning (50 page)

“Just a second, Aiden. I have
something to show you. Come round here.”

Aiden sighed. Frankie’s eyes
were twinkling more salaciously than usual and now he
was
beginning to
feel uncomfortable. If that gay ponce laid one finger on him, he would find
himself flat out on the floor with a very sore fucking chin!

He stood and stepped around
the desk. As he halted a reasonable distance away, Frankie pulled open the top
draw of the desk and, moving some papers to one side, revealed a small black
revolver. Aiden glanced down at it then back up at Frankie. He wasn’t
perturbed. He’d handled a gun before and Frankie must already have known that,
so this wasn’t a shock tactic.

“It’s for you,” he finally
announced. “A present... from me. For being such a good employee...”

Aiden gulped. “Do you give all
your employees presents?”

Frankie smiled wryly, “No,
you’re the first.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why are you giving this to
me?”

Frankie stood and, taking the
gun out of the drawer, he handed it to him, his dark crow-like eyes beseeching
him to accept it, and something else burned behind them: a burning desire.
Aiden hesitated, then took it from him. “Cheers,” he muttered.

He wanted out of there now. He
pulled up his jumper and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. Frankie
stepped forward and, catching Aiden off guard, his lips found his and his
tongue penetrated his mouth.

Immediately, Aiden pushed him away, stumbling backwards
and, as instinct obliterated all thought, he pulled the gun out with one hand
and pointed it between Frankie’s eyes. His other hand went to his lips and,
with the back of it, he wiped away all trace of Frankie’s assault.

“You sick bastard!” he
bellowed. “You try another stunt like that and I’ll fucking blow your brains
out!”

Frankie looked stunned. The
gun wasn’t loaded. Frankie knew that; Aiden suspected it. But Aiden’s fury left
Frankie feeling utterly astounded, totally mortified and hurt by the lad’s
rebuff.

When they both heard the crash
and the bellow of voices coming from inside the factory, the shock of the
episode was immediately replaced with the fear that they were being raided.
Both men stared at each other in utter amazement. There was nowhere to flee
except onto the factory floor. Frankie grabbed the gun from Aiden’s hand, wiped
it on his shirt and threw it back into the drawer just before five armed police
officers stormed into the small room and ordered that they raise their hands.  

Kamal pulled out his Motorola DynaTAC 8800X mobile phone
from the glove compartment of his black Mercedes 560SEL and dialled. He only
had to wait one ring before his call was answered. “It’s done,” he announced.
“No... I’m away from the roadside, but I have a good view. I just hope I don’t
get stuck in the damn mud down here.... Yes, he was definitely in the back of
the police car... look... Grant, you had to do something... it’s not your
fault... yes, alright... I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kamal hung up and sighed. He
sat and watched the police car, with Aiden inside, followed closely by the
police van, slowly make their way down the dark country road, and his eyes
followed them until the blue flashing lights disappeared out of view. Then he
turned the key in the ignition, slowly and attentively drove his favourite
Mercedes over the tractor cavities in the hard ground, and headed home.

“Many have asked whether I
regret the paths I have chosen, and I can honestly say that my only regret was
losing the love and respect of my wife and my sweetheart, Lily. I cherish the
moments we spent together and dream of a time when I may see her beautiful face
again.”

Aiden Foster

(1969–2002)

HMP Maidstone

7
^th
December
2001

7
^th
January 2002

Lily stared down at Gina’s grave, clutching twelve pink
roses in one manicured hand and her daughter’s small hand in the other. At ten
years old, Amy Foster was the spit of her father: all prettiness with long,
dark hair and piercing blue eyes that sometimes plunged Lily into reminiscence
of her soon-to-be ex-husband.

“This is a very good friend of
mine,” she announced as she crouched down, pulled a tissue from her trouser
pocket and began wiping the grave clean. “I thought you two should finally
meet.”

Amy stepped closer and
directed her blue eyes to the white marble. “Is she in heaven, Mummy?”

“She is, darling.”

They were both silent for a
long moment before Lily turned her daughter to face her and said, “Some people
in this world have no one to look after them. They do not have the privileges
that you and I have. This made my friend very, very sad, but she is at peace
now.”

“What kind of priv-il-eges do
you mean?”

Lily smiled fondly at her
beautiful, innocent daughter. “Some people do not have mummies and daddies who
look after them. They do not have pretty bedrooms and holidays. This can make
them very frustrated and lonely.”

Amy thought on her mother’s
words for a moment then said, “
I
do not have a daddy who looks after
me...”

Lily closed her eyes then
opened them. “No, darling. See, your father was very similar to my friend
here...”

“He didn’t have pri-vil-eges?”

“No, he didn’t, and like my
friend, this made him very sad and very angry, and that sadness and anger made
him do a lot of things I’m sure he now regrets.”

“So he was put into prison for
doing them things,” Amy said.

It was not a question. Amy was
well informed of her father’s imprisonment. She didn’t know the full extent of
what he had done, but Lily wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from her for
long. One day she would hear or read all about how her father had come to be a
Category ‘A’ criminal. Lily just had to make sure she was there for her
daughter when she did find out.

Amy had not seen her father
since she was seven months old. Of course, she had no memory of him, just the
pictures her mother had shown her over the years. And Lily had no intention of
taking her to visit Aiden, however much he pleaded. She had once sworn to him
that he would never see his child whilst she was legally in her custody and she
had meant it. Only when Amy came in adulthood would Lily have to accept
whatever she chose to do in respect of her father. But that was a long way off
yet, and she hoped that when her baby girl learned the truth, she would be
sensible enough to get on with the rest of her life without him.

“And we can’t see Daddy
because he needs to get better, because he’s still sad,” Amy pressed, repeating
her mother’s words of the past.

“That’s right.”

Lily smiled and turned back to
the marble headstone she had paid for. She had been the one to organise Gina’s
funeral. Gina’s mother hadn’t shown her face. Lily didn’t even know whether the
woman ever found out that her first child wasn’t with them anymore. Only Lily
and one other person had been present at the service. The stranger had sat at
the back of the small church, only approaching her when she had been leaving.
The woman had introduced herself as Shelly Matthews and had told her she had
met Gina in 1987 but had not seen or spoken to her since 1990. The stranger had
apologised for the sad ending to Gina’s life, had said some kind words about
her, then had left without any real explanation as to how they had met. She
hadn’t attended the burial. Lily wondered again who she could have been as she
stared at the words she had chosen to be engraved on Gina’s headstone:

GINA WATSON

BORN 1
^ST
OCTOBER 1969

DIED 15
^TH
OCTOBER 1991

PEACE AT LAST

“Happy New Year, G”, Lily
muttered as she placed the roses at the foot of the headstone. She was deep in
thought when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned. “Yes?”

“Mrs Foster?”

She stood up and acknowledged
the man before her. She had been accosted by him before. She said,
straightening her back, “Soon to be Ms Summers...”

As far as Lily was concerned,
her relationship with Aiden was long dead. She had filed for divorce every year
since he had been found guilty of offences even worse than she could have ever
imagined.

Aiden and Frankie Adams’s arrests over the drug factory had
generated several legitimate investigations into their shady past. In respect
of Frankie, Scotland Yard had not found any offences other than drug
distribution around the UK, which he had been associated with for ten years in
total, and he had been sent down for fifteen years in the end. Aiden’s case,
however, had lasted two long years.

During that time, DI Summers, with the help of those from
Scotland Yard who had not been found to be suckling at Aiden’s power teat, had
dug up many offences against him, from his involvement in the recording of
illegal sexual materials, which had landed Ashley Connor a three-year stretch
at Her Majesty’s Prison Stanford Hill, Kent – to car theft and sales of stolen
motor vehicles, which had landed Alex Lowe an 18-month sentence at Her
Majesty’s Prison Spring Hill, Aylesbury. There had also been an investigation
into Aiden’s association with the well-known dealer of drugs Reggie Driscoll
and his involvement in enforcement, resulting in the offences of ABH and GBH.

The Kingsland flats were put
under surveillance again, although they had been put up for sale within weeks
of Aiden’s arrest. Regardless, some of the girls, having heard that Aiden was
going down for some time, had finally spoken out and confirmed that he was, in
fact, head of the operation and the victims of the Kingsland flats had been
offered support from local care agencies. However, many who had relied on
Aiden’s employment to survive had refused help and had either found themselves
another boss or ended up on street corners, living a life far worse than they
had ever experienced under Aiden.

If Lily and the rest of the
Foster clan had thought that that was quite enough to digest, it had also come
to light at the tail end of Scotland Yard’s investigations that in 1989 Aiden
had been associated with, and was eventually found guilty for the murder of, Mr
Kieran Baker, who had been known to the police on suspicion of sex trafficking,
though they’d never had enough on him to ever come close to an arrest. Aiden was
also suspected of the murder of Jason Ryan in 1987, though there was never
enough evidence to convict him.

His family, Scotland Yard, the
Press, and consequently the nation, had been absolutely astonished at the
number of convictions against Aiden Foster, and he was soon nicknamed ‘Mr
Industrious’ by the Press. There were even articles from supporters who found
Aiden extremely fascinating. ‘One man’s fight for survival’ had been a
favourite topic for many months, and it had raised a lot of discussion around
the state of the UK’s council estates and the lack of opportunity for ‘lower
class’ youths, which had led to discussions at Parliament.

The suited man before Lily was
overweight with slicked blond hair and light brown eyes. His suit was too small
for him and he was perspiring despite the fact that it was a cool winter’s day.
He looked uncomfortable and Lily had the urge to feel sorry for him. “I have a
message for you, Mrs Foster,” he announced.

“Call me Lily... please.”

The man nodded and passed her
an envelope, then stepped back awkwardly. Lily opened it and pulled out the
letter within. She was silent for a long moment whilst she read its contents.
“Mummy, who is he?” Amy pointed at the man. He gave her a slight smile. 

Lily finished the letter then
looked down at her daughter. Her mind was whirling, but she smiled. “Darling,
why don’t you go and play by that tree over there for a minute.”

“But I don’t...”

“Please.”

“But...”

“Go, please... now!” she
snapped. Amy’s little mouth opened in shock, but she dared not challenge her
mother again. She did what she was told. “Stay where I can see you!” Lily
called after her. Then turning back to the man, she said, “Is this some kind of
joke?”

Filing for divorce eight times
had shown Aiden how much Lily wanted him out of her life. Aiden had refused to
entertain her attempts, but as her letters had informed him, she would continue
to send him the relevant paperwork until the day she died. Now he had changed
tack. This time, he wanted her to sign away her life to him once more in order
to keep everything that was hers.

“I don’t know what this is
about, Mrs F...” Lily shot Aiden’s messenger a look of pure murder, and he
gulped and corrected himself. “Lily... I’m just the delivery man,” he pleaded.

“Well, you’ve done your job,
so you can go now.” He stared at her awkwardly. “What?” she snapped.

“I have to wait for your
agreement.”

“What?”

“I’ve been instructed by...
well, I’m not to leave until you’ve agreed to...”

“I thought you didn’t know
what this was about!” Lily spat. The man didn’t reply. Lily sighed,
exasperated. “Well, you can tell my soon-to-be-ex-husband that I
don’t
agree,
and you can also tell him that he can
kiss my arse
!” Lily turned to
check on Amy. She was obliviously digging something up beneath the large tree
she had sent her to. 

“Lily, come on,” the man
begged, changing suddenly from messenger to enforcer. “Aiden ain’t gonna let
this go. He’s got twenty-three years left to fill. He’ll keep this up until
he’s finally released, you know it.” He paused then added, “Look, I wanna be
involved in this as little as you do...”