London Falling Read Online Free Page B

of money. Nothing to stop a jeep mowing down the gnomes in the front garden and then some twat from Jamaica chucking a grenade through your window. Here’s the secret, Tony:
London’s always about what’s moving underneath, about what’s pushing what. It was understanding that which let me get past what Alf left me with.’ He raised his can of
lager, managing a smile as if at some private joke. ‘To Alf.’
    Costain joined in. ‘You never did talk much about him dying.’
    ‘You’re right there, Tone. There’s a lot of memories you don’t want to dwell on.’
    ‘I know you. You’re not going off after midnight. You’ll be staying put.’
    ‘Nah, I’m off. To somewhere abroad. Oh, get that look off your face. I don’t mean right now. It’s just that things are going to change now, maybe very quickly, starting
at midnight, and I haven’t got . . . I haven’t got the protection no more. When everyone realizes that . . . well, all I’ll have then to protect me is loyalty and
tradition.’
    ‘Maybe sometimes loyalty and tradition actually count. They do between me and you, anyway. You know I’ve always watched your back.’
Just go out front, get in the car, and
go. I’ll say you tricked me. I’m going down, anyway.
    ‘You have indeed, Tone, and I’ll see you lot right. I’ll distribute a shitload of working cash to the soldiers, and use the rest to leg it.’
    Maybe give me something I can give them. Just tell me about the freelancers. About the supply.
    ‘Anyway, it’ll all go to hell.’ He threw aside the empty can of lager and grabbed another. ‘I caused chaos in this town on my way up, but that’s nothing compared to
when they’ll start fighting over what I’ve left behind. And they don’t have the advantages I had. It’ll be back to the old days, to shootings on the doorsteps. It’s
meant to be the end of the world soon, innit?’
    ‘Always is.’
    ‘I thought tonight I might manage to keep my edge, that I might get someone I know to extend a deal, but . . .’
    Costain inclined his head, waiting.
    ‘Now I might be on the wrong end of it. Someone might make a better offer. And then—’
    Costain looked up just then and saw Sefton in the doorway, making out that he was heading for the bog. He held his hand up: five minutes until they arrive.
    Okay.
    He actually found he was smiling now that they’d got to it. He was the star of this picture – inside, at least – and he’d either pull this off or it’d kill him.
‘Rob . . . you know what you mean to me. And that’s real, that’s solid, but this comes from the same place, okay? No reason for me to even say it, otherwise. You see . . . Blake
isn’t my real name.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Rob, mate, I’m an undercover copper.’
    Sefton was out of the doorway like a shot, a horrified expression on his face, away and down the stairs without a sound.
Yeah, you just scuttle off
. Costain’s gaze flicked quickly
back to Rob.
    The king of London, his expression now a mask of horror, was getting slowly to his feet. ‘I could have known,’ he said. ‘I could have asked.’
    Oh, Christ, where did
that
come from?! Why did he have to go and say
that
?!
    ‘I didn’t, though,’ Rob continued, ‘’cos it didn’t seem like there was anything you lot could do.’
    Costain stayed sitting. ‘None of what you’ve built up can protect you from the other gangs. Or from your freelancers if they’ve been turned. All it would cost you is those
fuckers. The dark side of your network. The ones who let you down.’
The ones you could have ‘asked’ about UCs!
    Toshack held his gaze for a moment. Then he went for his gun.
    Sefton went into the front room, where he ignored the soldiers drinking in front of the telly. He looked at his watch. Three minutes.
    No, Costain, the stupid bloody sod, didn’t even have that much time.
    So, which window? That one. He went over to a lamp, and checked nobody was looking at him. He quickly moved the