Zodiac's toy by John Jones (best free ereader .TXT) 📖

say to ask Ray?" he said, "he might actually have an opinion".

"Are you going to go into detail about the whys and why nots of Wayne moving in. You didn't tell me you studied law. What's the big deal anyway?"

"You didn't consult me".

"I'm consulting you now".

"and what if I said I hate the idea? You know I could make loads of trouble 'cos this house is half mine, but you know I'm not going to".

"Yes, because you wouldn't know where to start. Walk into a solicitor’s office and ask their opinion fine. Then get a bill just for talking to them".

"What about me when I need a place to kip? or if I just want to come round and watch telly". Caroline sighed.

"There's still nothing to stop you doing that".

"Well you might if Wayne’s here".

"Give me a good enough reason to take the key off you. In fact I should have taken it off you when you sent that crackpot round to see Wayne". Ray sat back in the chair and folded his arms.

"Well..?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"Do I have your permission to move my future husband into this house?" Ray just shrugged. Caroline copied him.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means whatever".

"Whatever?"

"Yes!" Ray said loudly. "Yes alright move him in then. Move him in to my half of the house. Give him a bloody key".

"I ought to give him yours, and don't worry, I will". The television came back on to the news channel. It was normal programming. There was a report from the Antarctica.

 

Later when he was walking back along the streets, a pensioner waiting outside a butcher's shop called to him:

"Excuse me, what's your star-sign?" then laughed. "Yes, it's Pisces". Ray just frowned and walked on by, telling himself he was not a believer in the zodiac. Coincidence. It was a strong weight against belief.

When he got back to the grounds of the high-rise, he saw several vans in the car-park parked at odd angles. He usually recognised the vehicles there as being those belonging to the tenants, but these he had never seen before, and when entering heard voices coming from the first floor.

There were voices coming from his flat. Ones he did not recognise. He cautiously entered, and found 'stuff' laying around. Pipes, ventilation fans, garden cabinet boxes. Suddenly an arm enclosed his neck and pulled him in close. It was Lee.

"There you are Ray," he said, "I thought you wouldn't mind if some of Gary's mates set up a cannabis growing plant in your place. I said you would be fine about it 'cos you get paid, cut in with the profits, so I said Ray would be well up for that". With his arm still around his neck, he walked Ray into the living room and let him go. Two men were in there setting up the equipment. They were simply normal looking 'blokes,' except ones that could be any age from twenty-five to fifty-five. They didn't acknowledge Ray, just went about their business.

"See. Uncle fucking Lee looks after his mates. Also, come and look at this". He left the flat and Ray followed him into Shane's, to find him standing around with his hands in his pockets looking kind of lost. In the living room a sheet had been laid out and on it were weapons of various kinds. Mostly guns. Handguns, machine-guns, rifles, fishing knives, kitchen knives, knuckle-duster knives, grenades.

"Are you preparing for a war?" Ray asked.

"They're paying us for use of our flats, and we get a slice of the profits".

"Yes, good isn't it?" said Shane with zero enthusiasm. Gary came out of Victor's flat looking for Lee and soon found him. It was clear to all that he was the big noise, or kingpin, even though his little empire had only carved out a fraction of a percentage of the criminal underworld, it was more than enough to see him driving expensive cars and having gold and diamond jewellery with a luxury house. He lived the job, if it could be called that, and his main area of interest and income was money-lending, but as with all gangster and mafia 'bosses', they wanted more. They want to expand, even though they are surrounded by riches. There is no cap. No roof where they do not wish to go beyond, and go as far as they can, slaves to their own riches, to their greed, where wealth was their ruler.

Even Lee deferred to him in his presence, and that didn't go unnoticed by Shane and Ray.

 

Later that night, the two men had set up the hydroponic equipment in Ray's flat and had got a couple of plants to start with. One of them left, but the other stuck around and it was clear he wanted to ask Ray something:

"Any chance I could kip on the sofa? Me bird's kicked me out. I can make sure the stuff's running fine".

Ray wanted to say no, get out, but found himself nodding.

"Great. What food have you got?"

 

Shane didn't feel comfortable with all the weapons in his flat. He had had a drink and it enhanced his paranoia. What if a grenade explodes? What if one of the guns goes off? What if the police come smashing their way in? Lee had bought a small mechanical steel safe and kept his post-office money in the bottom of a cupboard. The weapons he had incorporated into those in Shane's. He thought it would be good to maybe make some money from them. Also all the flat doors were shut and locked that night, as they would be from now on, Gary had said, and those in charge of the goods and the selling would be getting keys to the flats. Shane and Ray had reluctantly given their keys to go and get cut, and now several strangers, as well as Gary, had access.

So now the flats were effectively shared with the dealers. Gary had decided to use Victor’s flat as his new operations, constructing it in such a way as to seem like a cosy office. The customer would come into the living room and sit on a sofa, be offered a drink and Gary would be at a desk with a laptop. He had also brought filing cabinets and a large digital keypad steel safe. He could keep some of the seized goods he had in the other parts of the flat. Widescreen televisions, laptops, children’s bikes, electric guitars.

 

That night Ray didn't get much sleep, mainly because there was a complete stranger on his couch, and also because he could feel something moving over his foot. Something crawling. His bare feet were sticking out at the bottom of the bed and it crawled over his ankle. Then it stung, and Ray cried awake slapping instinctively at the pain. In a sliver of moonlight, the little creature fell to the floor, and Ray for a second saw a scorpion, before it scuttled away beneath the door.

"Fuckin' little bastard!" he hissed, rubbing his foot, but tiredness overwhelmed the pain, and he lay back on the bed until sleep overtook him.

 

In the morning, he had a dull throbbing ache in his foot which told him the scorpion was real. He went into the living room to find the man sitting on the sofa, who looked up at Ray and said: "What's for brekkie?"

 

There was still more setting up to do, but by midday, the flats seemed to be open for business. Ray's place needed more time for the plants to grow, but the stranger and his friend who had brought cannabis in from elsewhere had seemed to settle in, and had even given Ray a shopping list of ordinary food to get while he was out. He had been given ten pounds, but the list would clearly come to more than that.

Ray left the flat and found Shane sitting on a low wall at the edge of the car-park. He sat next to him.

"Good, isn't it?" said Shane, "and we'll be getting money out of it as well". Ray nodded, but they both knew neither of them really meant it.

"Did Lee ask you?" Ray said. Shane shook his head, then added:

"Maybe we should move".

"Yes, but we'd need to tell Lee. He wouldn't be happy about that".

"No," Shane muttered, "but would we need to tell him? He’s got his new mates and job and everything. Would he even notice if we left? Anyway, I'm going the boozer, you comin'?" He stood up.

"No," Ray said, "I've got a shopping list to get. Maybe later I'll join you". Shane wandered away, but Ray just sat there for a while, and saw people he had never seen before enter the high-rise. The front door had not been fixed in all the time they had been there, so anyone could wander in. Tenants or customers, Ray thought, then stood up and walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

As he walked to a mini-market two miles away, he never shopped at the place he worked at, even with a ten percent discount, he would feel too embarrassed, he gave serious thought to moving away. Maybe he could persuade Caroline to allow him to stay at the house, even though he knew he didn't really have to ask her permission. He felt he should. If she should say no, then he didn't know what he would do.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought it very unlikely, she would allow Shane to move in as well. No, she won't even want me. He would kind of feel like an unwanted guest if he did move into the house, if he exerted his right.

He would see how it went back at the flats. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad, and the thought of renting out his place for cannabis plants and earning profit made him feel slightly better, except for the fact he wasn't asked. Lee was similar to the man that went inside two years ago, but each of his traits had been enhanced, like he'd trained on them all inside, akin to when people go in that didn't exercise before, had pot-bellies and thin physiques. Came out of prison with muscles, with six-packs, because there wasn't much else to do inside.

He entered the store and grabbed a basket. Now he felt pressured not just by Lee, but by Gary and his minions. In fact it seemed to be only Shane he seemed equal with.

He was surprised the shopping list didn't feature a lot of alcohol. Except at the bottom. 'Four-pack of Bacardi rum punch’. It featured normal foods. Apples, milk, tea-bags, butter, bottles of water, sugar, cereals...

How long am I going to be doing this for? he wondered. Buying food for strangers to eat at my flat? And how long am I going to be a stupid fucking mug? Yes I'll do it. I'd love nothing more than to go the shops for you lazy twats. Would you like me to cook as well? clean up? Just make yourself at home. He also hated the fact that Gary had had keys. He didn't know how many, or who had them. Ray was glad of the fact that there wasn't too much worth stealing in his place.

He was close to the fruit and veg section and headed for the apples. However there was an elderly couple in the way and he was about to reach across them when the man turned around and looked at him. He was taller than Ray, had white hair and a grey moustache. He held out one hand to halt Ray, then held out the other with a closed fist.

He slowly opened it, and as if it had been made of sponge, a live 2-inch striped bark scorpion appeared. Ray just stared at it, and the man threw it into the apples, and there was not just one, but several, crawling all over the fruit and veg.

"Security!" the man shouted, standing back and pointing at Ray. "That man threw Scorpios into the food". Other customers cried