A Cold Killing (Rosie Gilmour) (12 page)

Ruby thought long and hard about agreeing to meet Tony. Holed up in her West End flat, she went over the risks of sticking her head above the parapet. Here, she was safe as long as she didn’t venture into the city centre or any of the haunts where she might bump into one Tony’s sidekicks. She’d always been meticulous about keeping her whereabouts secret, whether it was Spain, Amsterdam, Rome or anywhere else she pitched up for a few weeks to make sure Rab Jackson’s money was safely laundered and banked. Ruby had worked hard at cultivating this enigmatic, elusive figure who flitted in and out of the game, only appearing when she was needed to discuss the intricate accounting or to move money around the world. Rab Jackson always knew how to get a hold of her, but nobody else did and, now, he was history. Fuck him. She cursed herself for giving Tony her private email, because he was sending messages every two hours. His last email had sent a shudder of terror right through her.

‘I think Judy would want you to get in touch with me, if you get my drift.’

Brief, but toxic. She had no option but to answer the message.

*

As Ruby walked through the swing doors she spotted Tony lounging on the leather sofa in a secluded alcove at the far end of the bar off Glasgow’s Hilton Hotel foyer. Two shaven-headed gorillas sat on armchairs opposite, hanging on his every word. Tony clocked her when she arrived and put his coffee cup on the table as she strode confidently towards him. Attack is the best form of defence, Ruby told herself, but inside, her stomach was like jelly. She’d called the home this morning to inquire after Judy, terrified that something had happened. The sigh of relief she breathed when the nurse said Judy was well and sitting in her room by the window, as usual, had brought tears to her eyes.

‘Take a walk, lads.’ Tony dismissed his henchmen with a wave of his hand.

They both stood up, brick-shithouse frames bursting out of their shiny suits, and shot Ruby a fleeting glance as they slipped past her.

‘Sit down.’ Tony patted the sofa beside him.

Ruby stood for a moment, glaring at him, then moved towards one of the armchairs.

‘What’s the fucking panic, Tony?’

‘Where have you been? That’s the fucking panic. I’ve been phoning you for days. What’s the fucking score, Ruby? Don’t fanny around with me.’

‘Well’ – Ruby sat down, crossing her legs, knowing he was watching as her skirt rode up her thighs a little – ‘I’m here now. So what’s up?’

Tony’s eyes darkened and Ruby tried to hold his icy glare.

‘Rab’s dead, as you know. And now Malky Cameron, too.’

‘Yeah. I heard.’

‘You were in Spain with Rab before he died.’

‘Yeah. And what about it? I’m his accountant.’

‘One of the boys said you were at his villa the day before the fire. Having coffee at his poolside.’

‘That’s right, Sherlock.’ Ruby held her nerve.

Tony leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

‘Well, have you any idea what the fuck happened? Someone torched Rab in his house . . . I . . . None of us can work out what the fuck’s going on. I mean, how can that just happen?’

‘No idea. How would I know?’ She gave him an indignant look. ‘The Costa del Sol’s full of all the shitbags from here to Istanbul, all robbing each other blind. There’s no such thing as loyalty. I don’t know what strokes Rab may have pulled in his day, or if he’s noised somebody up over there. I’ve only known him since he was more or less retired. I was moving his money around. That’s all. Who knows what’s going on out there? Not me, that’s for sure. I’m seldom there.’ Ruby paused, watching the words sink into Tony’s head, knowing he’d be clueless as to who would wade in and bump Jackson off. ‘You not picking anything up here? Somebody must know something.’

She prayed they didn’t. She was doing well with the aggressive front.

‘Nope. Fuck all. He was in the house by himself. Spanish cops, of course, don’t give a shite about him.’ He gave a little shrug, trying to look in control. ‘But anyway, Rab’s dead and that’s it. We just need to deal with it. I’m running things now. That’s why you’re here.’

Ruby looked at him and said nothing.

‘I’m here because you keep emailing me. You said the shit has hit the fan. But what’s that got to do with me? I worked for Rab, not you.’ She shot him a defiant smile then ran her fingers across the line where her tight blouse showed a hint of cleavage. ‘That pleasant little encounter that night in your flat . . . it doesn’t mean you own me.’

Tony licked his lips and Ruby could see the lust in his eyes. He was easy.

‘We’ll talk about that later,’ he said. ‘But right now I need to know where all the money is.’

Rosie took a long breath and sat back.

‘Don’t worry about the money, Tony. Surely to Christ you didn’t think I’d done a runner with it?’ She put on her best would-I-ever face, and leaned across and touched his knee.

‘Well’ – Tony put his hand on top of hers and kept it on his knee – ‘It did cross my mind when I couldn’t get hold of you.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’ Ruby massaged his knee a little. She could see that the hard-man bravado was slipping. ‘I’m not that daft. Rab’s money is all over the place and, by the way, I do know it’s not just his money – it’s the firm’s money. But it’s very complicated. It’s taken a lot of setting up – accounts and different firms I’ve created, all over Europe and beyond – to keep the operation looking legit. For that, Rab paid me decent money. I did a good job and all the money is safe. Rab trusted me. So what’s the panic?’

The waiter came over and Tony ordered more coffee. Ruby asked for water. ‘There’s a big problem, Ruby,’ Tony said, his voice almost a whisper. ‘That’s why I needed to get hold of you.’

‘What problem?’ Ruby’s stomach tweaked, not knowing what to expect.

‘One of the companies we invest in. Don’t know if you know them. They’re an export/import company.’

Ruby stifled a laugh.

‘Fuck’s sake. They’re all export/import companies. That’s the whole point. How else would you get the coke into the UK?’

‘No. Listen. One particular company, they’re arms dealers. It’s something Rab invested in a few years back. Owned by Tam Dunn. You won’t know him. He moved to London years ago and he’s connected, big time, to a lot of the villains down south. Rab and him go back to the early days, so he invested with him. Dunn owns this company, J B Solutions, and they’re legit – well, on paper anyway. Totally watertight, according to what Rab told me a few months ago. But they have another company, Damar Guns. And they’re arms dealers, too, but in a different way. The two companies work hand in hand, but not on paper. Tam runs Damar, too, and he’s in with some heavy-duty Russians. There’s a load of money – massive amounts – because them fucking Russians buy and sell a lot of gear. You know how it is – they’re into everything, spreading themselves all over the shop, and they need to be tooled up big time. They bring guns – and a lot more besides – into the UK through Damar. Sometimes Damar sells guns to them, better than the Russian ones. Plus, the Russians supply birds for the saunas and stuff.’

Ruby kept her face straight but her heart was hammering.

‘The names don’t ring a bell with me. I set up a good few companies for Rab – everything from property firms to petrol stations . . . Christ . . . even a wooden-pallet company in the Midlands. I moved a lot of his money through them in various places all over the world. But I’ve never heard of J B Solutions. Or Damar. Never even heard him talking about them. Anyway, what’s happened?’

‘Well, there was some big international police and intelligence operation to trap the arms dealers while they were in the middle of a deal, but it all got fucked up. Two people got killed. One of Tam’s and one of theirs. Over in Berlin. It was a right mess.’

‘You mean one of the Glasgow boys got killed?’

‘Yeah, but he’d been living down near London for years. He was really working with Tam and for Damar. But it’s worse than that. The cops got hold of the guy I sent down from here for a bit of extra muscle. Derek Murdoch – Del. So they’ll just pump the wee man for any information then probably fucking shoot him.’

Ruby nodded.

‘Presumably, you didn’t send some eejit who’s going to spill his guts the first time the cops punch his face on a job like that?’

‘Who the fuck knows? Once cops at that level grab somebody, they can put the frighteners on them. Threaten their family. Maybe offer the guy money if he puts the finger on anyone. And they know we’re not exactly going to report him as a missing person.’

‘So who is Del?’

‘A wee hard bastard from Possil. He’s a sound enough guy but he’s not been on a job like this before. He was coming through the ranks and doing well. It was Billy, the guy who got shot, who said he wanted to take him with him. He said he could handle it. And Tam approved it, so I sent him down. He was only there for a bit of muscle during the time they were in Berlin, in case there was any funny business with the Russians. They’re serious wankers to work with. You can trust them about as far as you can throw them.’

‘So you’re sure the cops grabbed him?’

Tony nodded gravely.

‘We got word from the Russians. The cunts got away. They shot some bird dead who was with the police. They told us the cops got the wee man.’

Ruby digested this information then folded her arms.

‘So, on paper, Del’s just another hoodlum caught up in a killing abroad? What do you care, if there’s nothing to link you to it? Just keep out of it – that’s my advice.’

‘But Tam’s shitting himself because, four weeks after this happens, there was a hit on some old geezer. The university guy in London. It was all over the papers. Guy got shot in the head in a café in the middle of London. They’re saying it was some Russian gangsters who did it.’

Ruby’s stomach lurched and she hoped the colour wasn’t rising in her face as she pictured the old guy slipping off his chair, his brains all over the wall.

‘I vaguely remember the story,’ she lied, re-crossing her legs, knowing Tony would focus his mind on them. ‘The papers will say anything. And even if it was Russians, what the Christ has that got to do with Tam? Or you?’

‘Because the fucking lecturer was in Berlin. He was there. He must have been working with the cops or the secret service or some fucking thing. He must have been part of the operation.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Ruby screwed up her eyes. ‘A university lecturer in a shoot-out with Russian mobsters and arms dealers?’

‘He was there. Definitely. And now he’s dead.’

‘How do you know he was there?’

‘The Russians told Tam.’

‘Christ! So was it them who shot him in the café? Why would they do that?’

Tony shook his head.

‘They said they didn’t. But as I said, you can’t fucking trust these bastards.’

‘It said in the papers it was Russian-looking guys who shot him. But why would they?’ repeated Rosie.

Tony put his hands up and sighed, frustrated.

‘I don’t fucking know, Ruby. But something stinks, and we can’t trust anyone.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘And since the old guy was shot dead, the cops are all over it and Tam is panicking in case the heat comes all the way through to his company.’

‘J B Solutions?’

‘Aye. Well, mostly the other one – Damar. But if they look hard enough they might find they’re both connected. Damar supplies just about every gangster from Glasgow to London with weapons. And they also ship guns and stuff abroad – Africa – for some crazy fuckin’ war out there that’s been going on for ever.’ He leaned closer to Ruby. ‘But fucking Tam hasn’t got the right licence for that, and he’s shipping container-loads of arms abroad. So now he’s shitting himself in case the heat comes to him.’

Rosie gave a soft whistle.

‘Big stuff indeed. But surely you and anyone else who deals with Tam on the ground here are far enough away from all that kind of shit if they start investigating?’

‘We hope so. But we’re thinking that we need to make sure everything’s solid – money-wise – and safe. Maybe we should move things around again.’

Ruby thought for a moment.

‘It would be risky to start moving a lot of money around. Best to sit tight. Not attract any attention. The companies I’ve created for Rab are all legit, trading at small profits. There’s nothing to connect anyone. I’ve not even heard of that company you’re talking about.’

‘You probably haven’t. Rab invested a lot of money in Tam when he started out down south. It kept our hand in with the London mob and also the lads up in Manchester and Newcastle. So Tam was useful to Rab and he put some money behind him.’

‘Well, I’ve never heard any of that.’

‘It would be before your time.’

‘So how did Rab get his kickback? I’ve moved a lot of money for him over the past three years.’

‘Easy. The wads of cash he gave you to set up the companies you created? A lot of that came from Tam. Not all of it, obviously, as a lot was from here and other sources.’

Ruby racked her brain for any memory of Tam Dunn, but she’d never even heard Jackson mention his name.

‘Unless Rab’s name is anywhere in that company Tam has set up, then it’s all okay.’

‘That’s just the point. He was named as one of the directors a few years ago, when Damar was set up. So if they start looking at the company records, who knows what they might find.’

Ruby nodded.

‘I see what you mean. I can’t believe Rab was that stupid.’ She brushed her hand over Tony’s thigh. ‘But the money is all safe, the way I’ve set everything up. Don’t worry.’

He reached for her hand and caressed it gently.

‘Okay. That’s what I wanted to hear.’ He glanced around the almost deserted bar and spoke softly. ‘But that’s not all.’

Ruby wondered what the hell was coming next.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to know the ins and outs of this, but I’m going to invest a whole lot more with Tam. I’ve already made a promise to him. We shook hands on it the last time he was up.’

‘Did Rab know this? That you gave your word?’ Ruby asked.