Rollie toyed with the silk headband of his fedora, for the hundredth time giving them his impression of Danny Glass discovering a vanload of strawberries. For him, it never got old and never would. The people in the room knew the score and played along, although it had stopped being funny a while ago. Laughing at the boss’s jokes was an important part of the job, especially if the boss was Albert Anderson’s son and heir.
Rollie was in fine form. His mobile hadn’t stopped ringing with people keen to talk about the video and how great it was to see Glass exposed as a coward and a clown. They assured him Albert would approve.
‘What time is it? I’m in the mood for a party.’
Jonjo said, ‘Still a bit early. Better wait ’til after twelve, when the serious clubbers arrive.’
Rollie put a drunken arm round him, ruffled his hair and poured a drink for himself and his new best friend. Jonjo was enjoying his status. Only one thing bothered him – he hadn’t spoken to his uncle George since Rollie had told him about the video. George had looked at him just once in that meeting, and he remembered the contempt on his face.
Rollie read his mind. ‘Where’s George? Anybody seen George?’
Charlie Thompson wasn’t a fan of Ritchie. The two didn’t get on. Most of the time Ritchie ignored him and Thompson resented it. ‘Doing his usual “man of mystery” shit. He’ll turn up.’
Thin-skinned and immature even when it was going his way, Rollie saw Ritchie’s absence as a slight. ‘He should be here. We’ve got things to discuss. Hasn’t been a peep out of the Glass camp. What does that mean?’
‘Danny’ll be trying to keep his crew together. Bound to be worried about how long he can hold onto them. At least some will want out.’
‘Exactly, he’s weak. We should be capitalising on it.’
Charlie put the mix in. ‘Forget about Ritchie. We don’t need him. It’s Glass’s birthday. The whole family will be there. We should go over and help him blow his candles out.’
Jonjo realised they were about to put the advantage the video had given them in jeopardy. Glass’s stock, even among his own men, had to be rock bottom. If Thompson was right, people would start peeling away, one or two might even come over to their side. That would be the time to hit him. What was being suggested was foolish because it was unnecessary, except Rollie was too stupid to see it.
He said, ‘After his brother’s coming-out party, he’ll be expecting us.’
Charlie dismissed the objection. ‘No, he won’t. Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice and all that.’
Rollie turned the idea over. ‘I like it. Finish the bastards off, once and for all.’
‘Yeah. Go in blasting, only this time make sure we get all of them, including the sister.’
‘What would it take?’
Thompson pointed to the men in the office. ‘We’re all here, ready to go. Say the word and it’s done.’
This was a mistake. Jonjo took out his mobile. ‘Let me try George again.’
Rollie Anderson hadn’t forgotten his bitter disappointment at the failure of the raid on the King of Mesopotamia and the revenge he’d waited seven years to savour. He overruled Jonjo. ‘Fuck your uncle. Charlie’s right. We don’t need him.’