Martini Beach Club was buzzing with party-goers and Jez Kennedy sat back on the white leather sofa and smiled. This place was making him a fortune, setting his kids up for life. The place had only been open for one month but he knew there was many a successful season to come. It had quickly become one of the most popular places to visit on the island for stag, hen and birthday parties. Open eighteen hours a day, six days a week, the place was keeping Jez and his employees afloat all on its own. Yet he still didn’t feel contented, not fully.
He’d been screwed over by someone he’d thought he could trust. But worst of all, a friend. And that was something that Jez wasn’t able to swallow.
‘How’s things going with you and Charlene?’ Danny asked, sitting across from Jez on the other side of the room.
Jez felt himself tense. ‘Fine,’ he lied.
‘She’s still acting off?’
Jez took a large mouthful of Jack Daniel’s so he didn’t have to answer. His relationship with his wife had been strained practically from day one but he’d stuck it out for the sake of the boys. In the last couple of weeks, she’d been off with him more so than usual. He suspected something was up, that she’d done something she shouldn’t have, but when he’d questioned her she’d done the usual and told him to fuck off. He didn’t want to think about his relationship and the state it was in right now. What he needed was to find out if there had been any development on bringing that bastard Cole back to Majorca. He’d already been gone a week.
‘You found him yet?’ Jez said, after swallowing the amber-coloured liquid and savouring the burn in his throat.
‘Not exactly, but we think he might be in Scotland. Rumour has it he’s working on a big deal that could see him earn fucking thousands,’ Danny replied, shifting in his seat. ‘But that’s as far as I know and I don’t want to dig too much too soon in case word gets back to him and he flees again.’
‘He’s got big fucking balls, I’ll give him that.’ Jez exhaled loudly. The bastard had stolen from him and then fucked off to Jez’s homeland. Like he’d said, big fucking balls. ‘Any idea who he’s working with?’
‘Not yet. But it won’t be long before he’s sitting here in front of you Jez. Then you’ll be able to do whatever the hell you want with him,’ Danny said with menace to his tone.
Jez nodded in agreement. He wanted that day, that very moment, right now. He thought about going to the UK himself. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than coming face to face with the guy who stole his money. Seeing the look on his face would be like all his birthdays and Christmases coming at once. However, Jez had commitments in Majorca, the club needed him present.
‘I just don’t get why he’d choose to go to Scotland when he had it all here? The sun, girls, money. It truly baffles me,’ Danny said.
‘Some folk always think the grass is greener, Danny. Thing is, you need to water your own grass, not shit all over it,’ Jez replied.
‘Couldn’t agree more, Jez. We’ll get him back, you won’t have to wait long,’ Danny said.
‘Good things come to those who wait,’ Jez replied. ‘I can take it from here. I know someone who might be able to help. If I need you, I’ll call on you.’
Jez thought about his connection back home in Glasgow. His old best mate, Billy Drysdale was at the very top of his own game by all accounts. Their lives had taken very different paths since that first time they’d visited Majorca together back in 2001. Jez just hoped that their friendship was strong enough now that he could call on Billy and ask a favour.
He pulled Billy’s number and hit call. It rang only twice.
‘DS Billy Drysdale…’ The line went quiet for a moment.
‘Billy boy, how’s it going?’ Jez said.
‘Jez,’ Billy replied. ‘Good to hear from you. Long time no speak. I didn’t even know you still had this number. You still over in Spain?’
‘Aye,’ Jez replied before he sucked air through his teeth. ‘It’s been a long time since we last spoke. Twenty odd years?’
Bloody hell, Jez thought. Two decades. Had it really been that long?
‘Aye, sounds about right? How’s things going with you?’
‘Ah, you know, wife, two boys. Running a successful business. You?’ Jez said.
‘Successful career. No wife, no kids. Couldn’t be bothered with all that on top of the job. You know me, I always liked to fly solo in that respect,’ Billy replied.
‘Look, I’ll not hang about. I’ve something to ask you, a favour.’
‘I thought as much. A gangster doesn’t contact a DS for anything else,’ Billy replied.
‘Why would you presume I’m a gangster, Billy?’
‘I’m a copper, Jez. I know these things. And it’s not as though you weren’t heading in that direction before we even went on that holiday, is it? So, what’s this about?’ Billy replied, his voice low.
‘I wondered if you had someone on your radar back in the UK. I’ve been done over here in Spain and the bastard has fucked off with a lot of money that belongs to me. Apparently, he’s in Scotland and planning a big deal. I trust you won’t have to ask what kind, given how long we’ve known each other.’
Billy was quiet for a few moments and Jez wondered if the line had disconnected. Then he said, ‘Why would I help you?’
‘Do you really need me to answer that? Come on, Billy. Do you need me to remind you of that night? Of what happened?’
‘How did I know you were going to throw that in my face?’ Billy asked. ‘That was almost twenty years ago.’
Jez exhaled noisily. He didn’t want to have to use it against Billy, but he had to. It hadn’t been easy to build a new life for himself in Spain, and for it to have started off by having to get rid of a body that had nothing to do with him had been a massive risk. He’d needed insurance, something that he could use if he had to, although he’d always hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.
‘And if it wasn’t for me, Billy, you wouldn’t be sitting at your cushty wee desk at Police Scotland. You’d be in prison yourself for a murder you committed while off your face on drink and a shit ton of drugs. You know I have the evidence, don’t you? Your memory isn’t so bad that I have to remind you of that.’
He listened to the silence on the other end of the line, the breathy sounds of Billy contemplating his position on the matter. Jez knew Billy as well as he knew himself. He wasn’t going to let anything fuck up his life, not after he’d worked so hard to get to where he was.
‘You’re a bastard, Kennedy,’ Billy said.
‘Aye, I know. You know me better than anyone. Or at least you used to. Not much has changed. So, are you going to help me or not?’