Chapter Fifty-Eight

Joe was supposed to be meeting me for dinner in Suzie Wong’s. The illuminated clock shining on the wall opposite the bar showed the time as nine fifteen. He was over half an hour late, and even Moses was running his black enamelled nails through his peroxide white hair. It was a sure sign that the leader of the Dark Angels was worried–he didn’t mess with his look lightly.

‘Run this past me again,’ he said. ‘Glasgow Joe went after the Boyle clan on his own, over a motorbike?’ I nodded. ‘Who does he think he is? He’s hard, but…I mean–the Boyles? There’s fucking hundreds of them,’ he spat the words out. ‘And you? You should have known better.’ Moses turned on his heels, his floor-length black leather coat swirling out behind him like a cape. His eyes were blazing; he hated the Boyles but he wasn’t stupid enough to take them on himself.

I ran after him, just in case Joe going after them on his own had given him any ideas. His words suggested otherwise, but you never could tell anything where Moses was concerned. He had gone to his office; it was a grand name for a small room next to the gents’ toilets. Moses kept all his space for earning money, not wasting anything on niceties. He took a small bunch of keys out of his pocket and unlocked a long walnut cabinet that I had simply never noticed before. He pulled out a sawn-off shotgun, tucking it under his armpit, covering it with his coat. He marched out into the public areas again with me trailing, dumb, after him. Customers nodded at him, but Moses didn’t look to his left or his right, he simply marched. I finally opened my mouth to speak. He placed his finger over my lips. ‘Sssh,’ he said. ‘Glasgow Joe and Kailash would kill me if I got you involved. Stay behind and pretend you haven’t seen me.’ He tapped the package he was discreetly carrying and asked, ‘I take it this is covered by client confidentiality?’

He didn’t wait for an answer. If he thought I was just going to wait by the phone for news, he had another think coming. Moses was right. I should have known Glasgow Joe would do something stupid, and I felt a need to help out now. Christ, what would the Boyles be planning for him? I ran after him. ‘Wait!’ I shouted as he climbed into the passenger side of a rusty Ford Escort. ‘I’m coming.’ He opened the door for me and I slid into the messy back seat. ‘You don’t mind?’ I asked. After his speech moments earlier, I’d expected to have to fight him to go along. He shook his head. ‘Actually, I’d have been disappointed in you if you hadn’t come–it’s Joe we’re talking about.’