under the Proceeds of Crime Act with confiscating the ill-gotten gains of career criminals. Sensible people always had legitimate businesses to demonstrate where their income came from, which is why Bobby owned pubs, clubs, restaurants, a catering company, a property agency, even a couple of newsagents, anything with legitimate turnover that we could use to launder cash.
‘Didn’t he have anything legit?’
Bobby shook his head, ‘stupid bastard was still signing on in Toxteth.’
‘That is sticking two fingers up at the man,’ I said, ‘queuing up at the dole office with your Rolex and a wodge of drug money in your back pocket.’
‘He’ll need benefits by the time they’ve finished with him. They filmed him secretly for one of those uncovered, fly-on-the-wall documentaries,’ and he shook his head, ‘I tell you, if that Macintyre bloke came near me looking to make a name for himself I’d stick him in the boot of his own car, lock it and push it into the Tyne, I really would.’
‘I know you would. How about our friends in Glasgow?’ I offered, ‘the Gladwells?’
Bobby thought for a moment, ‘too old, maybe ten years ago but not now. We’ve had our scrapes me and Arthur Gladwell but we always sorted them in the end. Imagine the stress of being the Top Boy in Glasgow for that long.’
‘There’s a lot of competition.’
‘They’re fucking psychos up there. Remember, it was us that built the wall, to keep those buggers out.’
‘I’ll have to remember to tell Laura that. Her old lady’s a Scot. So you don’t think it’s him?’
‘Gladwell? No, too old, too busy and he’s got enough on his plate keeping his boys out of trouble.’ He’s got four sons. Remember we met the eldest and his shrew when we went up there a couple of years back to sort out that construction scam? What was her name again?’
‘Martine,’
‘You called her Lady Macbeth.’
‘With good cause,’ I assured him, ‘but not to her face. She was as sour as a bag of lemons that one.’
‘Imagine fucking that,’ and he whistled as if he was contemplating the demands of the SAS selection process.
‘Tommy Gladwell must have done it, at least a couple of times. They’ve got two kids.’
‘He’s a twat that bloke.’
‘Known as ‘wee Tommy Gladwell from what I remember, even though he was fat and forty by then.’
‘He’s like all the Gladwell lads, carries on like he’s hard as nails but he can’t shit without his old man’s permission and now he’s got his wife involved in his business, imagine that,’ he clearly thought that was taking feminism a step too far.
‘London then?’ I suggested.
‘Met’s all over it. You’ve got Super grasses and SOCA, the ARA and not to mention all the competition, Albanians, Russians, Yardies and Turks. Who’d have time to come up here?’
‘Maybe they think it’d be easier?’ he gave me a filthy look, ‘I’m not saying they’d be right mind but, you know, with some people, the grass is always greener,’
‘It’s possible,’ he conceded then reconsidered, ‘no, no, you’re telling me that some fat cockney twat’s gonna come all the way up here, shooting his mouth off, while we let him get away with taking over the place? Nah, I can’t see it, can you?’
‘I dunno,’ I said, ‘it happened to the football club.’
He laughed so hard at that I thought he was going to choke.
‘Who then?’ I urged him when he’d calmed down.
‘What about closer to home?’ he asked.
‘You mean our crew or beyond?’
‘Either.’
‘Our mob? Only one man with the balls and the brawn and, how can I put this nicely? I can’t. He’s not got the brain.’
‘Finney? I know and he’s loyal, at least he always has been and we pay him a lot. I mean what’s he going to spend it on? He wouldn’t make a boss and I can’t see him working for anybody else after all these years. So, not Finney, anyone else?’
‘I’ve thought about it, obviously I have.
‘Didn’t he have anything legit?’
Bobby shook his head, ‘stupid bastard was still signing on in Toxteth.’
‘That is sticking two fingers up at the man,’ I said, ‘queuing up at the dole office with your Rolex and a wodge of drug money in your back pocket.’
‘He’ll need benefits by the time they’ve finished with him. They filmed him secretly for one of those uncovered, fly-on-the-wall documentaries,’ and he shook his head, ‘I tell you, if that Macintyre bloke came near me looking to make a name for himself I’d stick him in the boot of his own car, lock it and push it into the Tyne, I really would.’
‘I know you would. How about our friends in Glasgow?’ I offered, ‘the Gladwells?’
Bobby thought for a moment, ‘too old, maybe ten years ago but not now. We’ve had our scrapes me and Arthur Gladwell but we always sorted them in the end. Imagine the stress of being the Top Boy in Glasgow for that long.’
‘There’s a lot of competition.’
‘They’re fucking psychos up there. Remember, it was us that built the wall, to keep those buggers out.’
‘I’ll have to remember to tell Laura that. Her old lady’s a Scot. So you don’t think it’s him?’
‘Gladwell? No, too old, too busy and he’s got enough on his plate keeping his boys out of trouble.’ He’s got four sons. Remember we met the eldest and his shrew when we went up there a couple of years back to sort out that construction scam? What was her name again?’
‘Martine,’
‘You called her Lady Macbeth.’
‘With good cause,’ I assured him, ‘but not to her face. She was as sour as a bag of lemons that one.’
‘Imagine fucking that,’ and he whistled as if he was contemplating the demands of the SAS selection process.
‘Tommy Gladwell must have done it, at least a couple of times. They’ve got two kids.’
‘He’s a twat that bloke.’
‘Known as ‘wee Tommy Gladwell from what I remember, even though he was fat and forty by then.’
‘He’s like all the Gladwell lads, carries on like he’s hard as nails but he can’t shit without his old man’s permission and now he’s got his wife involved in his business, imagine that,’ he clearly thought that was taking feminism a step too far.
‘London then?’ I suggested.
‘Met’s all over it. You’ve got Super grasses and SOCA, the ARA and not to mention all the competition, Albanians, Russians, Yardies and Turks. Who’d have time to come up here?’
‘Maybe they think it’d be easier?’ he gave me a filthy look, ‘I’m not saying they’d be right mind but, you know, with some people, the grass is always greener,’
‘It’s possible,’ he conceded then reconsidered, ‘no, no, you’re telling me that some fat cockney twat’s gonna come all the way up here, shooting his mouth off, while we let him get away with taking over the place? Nah, I can’t see it, can you?’
‘I dunno,’ I said, ‘it happened to the football club.’
He laughed so hard at that I thought he was going to choke.
‘Who then?’ I urged him when he’d calmed down.
‘What about closer to home?’ he asked.
‘You mean our crew or beyond?’
‘Either.’
‘Our mob? Only one man with the balls and the brawn and, how can I put this nicely? I can’t. He’s not got the brain.’
‘Finney? I know and he’s loyal, at least he always has been and we pay him a lot. I mean what’s he going to spend it on? He wouldn’t make a boss and I can’t see him working for anybody else after all these years. So, not Finney, anyone else?’
‘I’ve thought about it, obviously I have.
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