The second Young said there was a problem, Jamieson was awake. He knows Young doesn’t exaggerate. One of the great things about him. He can sort out most trouble without ever involving Jamieson. The ideal right-hand man in that respect. He only makes a nuisance of himself if it’s big. This really is. Frank. One of the few he can respect. One of the few he really trusts. It was such a relief when Frank said he was fit to return to work. A good feeling to give him a job. To have him back. He won’t lose Frank. You judge a man by how he protects his people. The people who matter to him. He’ll go as far as he has to for Frank’s sake. Not just to impress others. It’s also to impress yourself. Convince yourself you have an organization that can rescue its own. No matter the trouble, you’re strong enough to sort it out. You can deliver another blow to Shug-bloody-Francis.
This trouble with Shug has been going on way too long. People are talking. He hears the rumours that nobody wants to tell him about. They think he’s weak. They think Shug might have the better of him. He doesn’t. Jamieson knows that, and so, probably, does Shug. Shug’s bitten off more than he can chew. He manages to keep holding on by his fingernails. Bloody awkward target. A pest that’s difficult to swat away precisely because he is small. Most of his money is legit. Most of the people who work for him are outside the industry. Targeting them would bring greater police involvement, which he needs to avoid. Have to stamp on his criminal business. Have to see it to stamp on it. Tommy Scott. A public face. Make an example. That could still happen.
Jamieson’s walking downstairs with his phone in his hand. His wife might have woken up beside him, but she didn’t show it. She won’t say a word. Won’t even ask him about it in the morning. She’s been in this life long enough to understand the value of silence. Away from the kids’ bedrooms, too. They don’t understand the value of silence. They’re old enough to understand the nature of their father’s work, but they mustn’t hear things they shouldn’t. Things they might repeat. The chore of fatherhood. Into the living room, closing the door, sitting on the couch. The first number he finds is Kenny McBride’s. Kenny’s his driver, has been for a few years. A good boy. A little nervy around people that matter, a little mouthy around those that don’t. There are still lessons for him to learn. Reliable, though, that’s the key.
‘Kenny,’ he’s saying quietly. ‘Get round to my house right away, pick me up, okay.’
There’s a slight pause while Kenny processes the order. The latest in the chain to be woken. His mind moves at a gentle pace at the best of times. ‘Yes, on my way.’
That’s it. That’s the conversation. Jamieson gives the order and Kenny accepts it without question. Jamieson never needs to justify himself. Kenny never needs detail. Others might ask for more. People like Frank and Calum. That’s because the work they do matters. It’s because they can afford to ask. They’ve earned the right to question. But drivers are ten a penny. Kenny’s expendable. Good drivers aren’t so common, but Kenny rarely needs to be good. Chauffeur and delivery boy aren’t taxing. Tonight may be a night when Kenny needs to prove himself. That’s something else to worry about.
The job formed in Jamieson’s mind as soon as Young told him what had happened. He could picture it all. The way they’ll have to do it. They supply Calum with a gun because he won’t have time to go and get one himself. Kenny drives him to the flats. He leaves him there. Calum’s on his own. He gets to the flat and does what he does so well, with Scott and his bum-chum. He gets Frank out and they leave in Frank’s car. Without realizing it, Jamieson is slapping the seat of the couch. It’s a bloody nightmare job. He’s closing his eyes tight. Justify it to yourself. Go on. Find a justification. Anything. Reverse the roles. Would you send Frank in to rescue Calum? Would you take this risk with a friend’s life to rescue an employee? No, you hypocritical prick, you wouldn’t. You’ll risk an employee for a friend, though. Even if the employee’s more valuable.
He’s standing up now, in the darkness. What would happen if you lost Frank? No, it’s still not justification enough to risk Calum. Frank’s not a young man. The end has been creeping up on him for a long time. He deserves a better end than this. That’s no justification, either. Most people deserve a better ending than the one they get. Certainly in this business. Very few get to pick the door they leave by. The thought of Frank lying on the floor of some shitty flat, with those bastards standing over him. Two little scumbags, goading him, thinking they’re better than him. The thought of Hutton putting a bullet in him. Dragging him out of the building and dumping his body somewhere. If it were Calum, Jamieson would leave him. It’s the risk a gunman takes. They don’t expect someone to come and rescue them if they botch it. They don’t expect people to risk their lives for them. They certainly shouldn’t.
Sitting down again. Another minute wasted. Not too late to back out. Let Frank suffer his fate. The price of botching a job. It’s the same for everyone, why should he be different? It’s a hopeless mission. Calum would have to get into the building and up to the flat. High up. Scott lives near the top of a tower block; Jamieson remembers that from the research. Get inside. How do you do that? That would be his problem. Get in. Kill two men. Has to be both of them. One will have Frank’s gun. Him first. Then the other one. He’s a witness. He’s a danger. He’ll have to go. So a double hit. That’s rare. Raises eyebrows with the police. Gets them all excited. Invites trouble. Then Calum has to get Frank out of the building. What if he’s injured? What if his hip has gone again? Frank might be a dead weight. How does Calum get him safely out without being seen? Oh, it’s a shitty job to send one of your own into.
But he will send Calum to do it. Jamieson knows it already. Has known it all along. Right now he’s sitting on the couch and he’s wasting time. He knows that, too. He knows he’s making Calum’s job harder with this pointless agonizing. There’s little enough time. He’s squandering a little of what there is. Just call Calum. Tell him nothing yet. Get him to the club. Too late for him to say or do anything when he’s there to collect the gun. He’s a pro. He’ll do the job. He’s one of the few capable of doing it well. Jamieson’s shaking his head. Calum will try to do the job. He’ll try to do it well. Another fucking cripple. Frank with his hip, Calum with his hands. Stabbed by the now-silenced Glen Davidson. Calum handled that well. Hasn’t done a job in the months since. Calum doesn’t want to work for an organization–that’s been obvious from the start. Jamieson has suspected for a few weeks that Calum’s swinging the lead. Time to change that.