The Rules: A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked

One of the men who was tooled up managed to whack her father on the back, but just as the other one went to follow suit, she appeared like a whippet on speed and used all her strength to push down on the nozzle of the can and spray it directly into the two guys’ faces. Her father, who had been knocked to the side by the heavy blow, turned to see his daughter. In her Goth outfit and brandishing his can of pepper spray, she looked wild and fearsome as she went for his attackers in a rage. Suddenly, with their hands over their eyes, they backed off, coughing and spluttering. Doubled over, they gasped for breath as saliva ran from their mouths and snot poured from their nostrils.

He pulled her arm down and removed the can. She stumbled back in total shock and looked at the devastation. The two men were almost choking to death, and the man on the ground was bloodied and lifeless. Her father dragged her away. ‘Get in the car!’

Numbed by the event, she hurriedly did as he told her. He wasted no time in pulling away. Once again, Kendall looked behind her and this time there were a few customers peering out from inside the pub. She guessed they had stayed there while the fight ensued; it was none of their business. She knew then her father was a very dangerous man. Controlling her breathing, she wanted to appear unfazed; really, though, the experience had left her traumatized. She could have laughed out loud with hysteria, but, again, her veil of silence was her best form of protection. Like her, her father said nothing; instead, he drove like a bat out of hell until, finally, they were on a main road, heading for God knows where.

She wasn’t going to be the one who broke the silence. This was a world so far removed from her own, but, strangely, as the shock wore off, she felt an inner excitement. Her father, a hard-core gangster, it was laughable until she realized that what she’d seen had been anything but a laugh. In fact, if the truth be known, it had been terrifying. But she’d been an essential part of that. If she hadn’t been there for her father, he could have been seriously hurt or worse. She may have just saved her father’s life, so she wondered how he would regard her now. Surely, he would have some respect for her, wouldn’t he? She really wasn’t sure what to think.

‘You’ve been searching through my motor, haven’t you?’ he asked her coldly.

She hadn’t expected that! ‘Lucky I fucking did, ’cos I think I saved your life.’

A laugh escaped from his mouth and he said with an evil grin, ‘It would take more than those pair of mugs to kill me. I’ve pushed bigger cunts than that out of the way to get to a fight.’

Those words chilled her bones. She knew then he was capable of far worse, and her illusion of being his hero was immediately shot down, but she wanted some acknowledgement – at least a verbal pat on the back – for her timely rescue act. Yet the look on her father’s face told her she had as much chance as a snowball in hell.

‘But—’

‘Next time, do as you’re told. Any more sauce, and you can get out and walk home!’

‘But, I’m not a kid,’ she replied, now hurt by what she saw as a patronizing remark.

‘You are when you’re in my company. Got it?’

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, deciding to change the subject.

He flashed her a quick smile, and then he sighed. He could see just from his daughter’s expression that his words had hurt her. And the fact was she’d pulled off a fucking blinder back there at the pub. He was amazed by her quick thinking and courage to confront men who were seriously dangerous. But he wasn’t going to tell her that and let her think she was invincible.

‘Listen up, Kendall. I know you wanna move in with me, and I want nothing more than to get back at ya mother for what she did to us, but the plain fact is that ya can’t.’

She turned her face away, staring out of the side window, his words whirling around inside her head. He was so cold. Did he not realize what he’d just said? Her idea was that he would have her move in with him just to piss her mother off, as in some type of emotional revenge. It was a solid plan and she honestly thought he would go for it. She would have in his position. What the hell has happened to my dad? she thought. Well, if he was that stand-offish and callous, then why should she worry about worming her way into his affections. She blinked away the start of tears and cleared her throat. ‘So, Dad, you’re a drug dealer, I take it?’

He cast a speculative glare, stubbornly ignoring her, and pulled into a McDonald’s drive-thru on the A20. Once he’d put the handbrake on, he turned his whole body to face her. With an unreadable expression, he hissed, ‘You may think because you’re my kid, that you fucking know me. Well, ya can get that notion right out of ya head! Ya know fuck all, and, ya know what, Kendall? That’s just how I like it.’

Her breath locked in her throat. Glancing over at him, his eyes were empty. There was not a trace of compassion on his face, nothing at all. She swallowed hard, now believing that every flash of a smile he’d shot her wasn’t a warm expression of endearment but a fake and almost sarcastic gesture. At that precise moment, she learned he wasn’t who she thought he was. Maybe the years of separation had conjured up a dreamlike portrait of this wonderful loving father, a father who was left out in the cold, his child ripped away from him. But, obviously, she’d been living in a fantasy world, dreaming of her ideal father, not the one who was sitting next to her with that curled lip and an expression that told her she was a nobody in his life.

Hurt and angry, she wasn’t going to let it go. ‘I get it, Dad, you are into something dangerous, and you don’t want me to know or be a part of your life so that I don’t get caught up in it, or, worse, hurt.’

His face lit up and flushed red, as a laugh left his mouth. ‘Jesus, fucking shit! You really are fucking clueless, ain’t ya?’ He shook his head and laughed again. ‘I’m gonna take you back to the station.’

Now fuming that her father had the gall to laugh in her face, she spat back, ‘Spineless!’

‘You fucking what?’ he growled.

‘You heard, Dad. You’re fucking spineless. You should have fought to keep me, and now I’m old enough to leave home and live with you, you really haven’t got the guts to fight her, have you?’

Suddenly, she saw a threat in his gaze and her heart beat wildly. ‘Do you know what? You’re actually right. I haven’t got a clue. Just take me back to the station, you get on with your drug peddling, and I’ll find my own fucking way in life, without you and my stupid twat of a mother.’

Suddenly, the tables had turned. Jesus, I hadn’t expected that rebuke, he thought. His face fell as he blew out a deep sigh.

‘Okay, listen. My life ain’t all about that. My business is my fucking business that you have no clue about, so get the notion of drugs and dealing outta ya head. It ain’t what you think, but, see, herein is where the problem lies. You see a small picture and blow it up into a full-length feature film, and that, Kenny, I can’t fucking ’ave . . . But I’ll tell ya what I’ll do. I have a flat above the hairdresser’s in Petts Wood. You can have it with my blessing. You’re twenty, I know, even though that mother of yours has demanded you stay under her roof until you pay back all you owe, so it’s time you grew up. Next week, I’ll meet you at the Daylight Inn and I’ll give you the keys. Have ya got a job lined up?’

Wow! She hadn’t seen that coming. In wide-eyed excitement, her thoughts rapidly processed the idea of having her own pad. But then she felt her elation plummet. She didn’t have a job because her mother had put a stop to that. Shoving job applications right under her nose every five minutes, demanding she put herself forward for positions at legal firms, had driven her mad: she really had no interest in any of them.

‘I can work for you. Dad, you can trust me.’

He laughed again. ‘Kenny, I trust no one, and I mean no one. Let’s be honest, you may be my kid, but I don’t even know you. And, for all I know, she could have you clocking my every fucking move – the sly bitch.’

‘But why would she do that, Dad? I mean, she’s got her life with Alastair and the girls, a big house, and the poxy career of her dreams.’

Kendall clocked the tightness in his face melt away, as his green eyes clouded over, and his heavy brows dropped.

‘You really have led quite a sheltered life . . . ’ He paused. ‘Maybe it was for the best.’

A sudden urgency to know what he meant urged her to push for an explanation. ‘Come on, Dad, give me some clue as to what you mean? I at least deserve that. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t ask to be born into this family, or any fucking family.’

The serious tone in her voice made him sit up like a soldier. ‘Your mother hasn’t worked hard for her career, ya know, she was forced into it. Yeah, she loves the status, but, in truth, she’s just a face, behind a puppetmaster.’

Kendall chewed the inside of her mouth in contemplation. ‘Who’s the puppetmaster, then?’

A stubborn silence lingered a few moments before he huffed. ‘Look, Kendall, forget I said that. Yeah, ya mother has a good career. That aside, as much as you find her a toffee-nosed irritant, she’s still ya mother. You can have the flat . . . But I need to get going, so I’ll drop you off back at the station.’

***

It had been a month since Mike had been reunited with his son, and as he awoke before the buzzer sounded, he looked across at him sleeping. He had done the same thing every morning. Eleven years of believing Ricky was dead had left him with a constant feeling of worry. He watched his son’s soft-skinned face and floppy hair glow from the sun shining in through the small toughened glass window. His heart skipped a beat with excitement that beside him was his boy, his reason for living.

As much as his son put a loving smile on his face, in the back of his mind, there were thoughts of revenge that ate away at him. Dez Weller. He was the monster who had burned nearly every one of his photos of Ricky when Mike believed he was dead. And within hours of his arrival at Maidstone Prison, he’d found this bastard with a knife at his son’s throat. That was resolved, but then he discovered that Weller wanted Ricky as his bitch. Revenge for the latter abomination should have been a given but it wasn’t safe enough. He now had too much to lose; his liberty was paramount to ensure he’d be on the outside with his family, where he could protect them.

The last twelve years had been a whirlwind of frustration. Not being able to help his girlfriend Zara Ezra when she’d seemingly disappeared off the planet, and powerless to do anything to find his son, were not the normal kinds of challenges of life for anyone, and he rightly felt that he’d had more than his fair share.

Ricky stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. ‘Morning, Dad.’

Mike was sitting upright in just his boxer shorts. At forty-five years old, he was as solid as any younger man in his twenties. He smiled. ‘Did ya sleep well?’

Ricky nodded. ‘Yeah. Actually, I’ve slept like a baby ever since we shared a cell.’

Mike laughed. ‘I thought as much. Cor, you can’t half snore.’

‘You can talk,’ said Ricky, jokingly. ‘I’m gonna have a shower and then see what job they’ve assigned for me. I bet it’s mopping floors again.’

Ricky quickly pushed the sheet away and sat up straight. His fringe bounced, covering his eyes.

Mike watched him, remembering the six-year-old with his messy hair. Really, he was still the same. ‘Wait for me, Ricky . . . ’

‘Dad, honestly, I’ll be fine. Dez gives me a wide berth now, and his mates don’t even look me way. As for Tatum and Tyrone, I ain’t seen much of ’em.’

Mike stood up and reached for his tracksuit bottoms neatly folded at the end of the metal bedstead. ‘I ain’t taking any chances, though.’

‘Listen, Dad, I get it, right? But when I first arrived ’ere, I didn’t know anyone, and I was scared. When I lived with me muvver, she let Tatum and Tyrone do what they liked to me. I had no one to go running to. So, I accepted what life had in store. I couldn’t argue or fight back because the minute I did, I would’ve had Tatum’s three sons on me back. And Muvver always sided with Tatum. When Dez started bullying me, I was back in the same situation. I had no one to back me up, except Willie, but now I’ve got you. Having my family back means I can stick up for myself because I have protection. I can be who I want to be now.’

Mike could feel the lump in his throat. Ricky hadn’t gone into too much detail of what his life had been like. Mike believed that his son was saving him from further heartache. The thought of his boy feeling alone was enough to cripple him. And now he was worried because inside prison the rules were not the same. The sly dig with a shiv could end anyone’s life, not least his son’s. The likes of Dez wouldn’t go a single round in the boxing ring: he would be too underhanded. Just the sideways glance from the Yardie’s shifty eyes made Mike nervous – not for himself, but for his son.

‘I’m going for a shower anyway.’

Ricky’s smile reached his eyes and deepened his dimple. ‘Okay, Dad. I’ll see ya there.’

Just as Mike stepped outside the cell, Lou appeared with a smile that showed his back teeth. ‘I’ve just been down to reception to collect me mail, and it looks like ya nan’s gone overboard again.’ He looked over at Ricky. ‘You’ve got a whack of gear down there. They’re all fancy labels an’ all.’

Slowly getting up from his bed, Ricky frowned. ‘What, more clothes? Jeez, me nan’s right spoiling me, eh?’

Mike popped back inside the cell and laughed. ‘You wait until you get out of ’ere. She’ll have you up Oxford Street kitting you out in whatever the hell ya like and . . . ’ He paused and gave a cheeky grin. ‘Pops will be taking you shopping too, but not for clothes.’

Ricky’s eyes widened; he was so excited, but he never predicted what his father would say next.

‘The new BMW model’s out soon, and he thinks it has ya name written all over it.’

Like an electric shock, Ricky jolted. ‘What?’ His skin suddenly became covered in goose bumps. ‘No way. Oh my God! A BMW? That’s way too much.’

Lou shook his head. ‘I bet that’s just the start as well, trust me. Ricky, your grandparents will want to give you the world and quite rightly so. You’ve twelve years of catching up to do, mate. Me, I’d soak it up and savour every bit of it.’

Ricky’s eyes returned to look at his father. ‘But that’s such a lot. A new car. Wow! I never thought. Well, what I mean is . . . I can’t believe my life could go from nothing to now this.’

‘Well, get bloody used to it, Son. You’ll never go without again. So, start thinking about which motor you’d really like, and when we get out, you can go on one of those intensive driving courses and get ya licence. You can cruise around in a nice set of wheels, a pair of Ray-Bans, and all the designer clothes ya can wear.’

Ricky lowered his gaze. ‘Dad, I’m not really into all that designer gear. I’d be happy with clothes that actually fitted, and, to be honest, I’d feel better if I could work for my money.’ He looked up and grinned. ‘Let me on the firm, Dad . . . Well, I ain’t gonna be a lawyer, am I?’

Lou shuffled uncomfortably. This was really a private conversation and one best left for Mike. ‘Look, I’ll catch ya later.’

Mike sat back down on the bed. ‘Listen to me, sunshine. I’ve enough money for us to live more than comfortably, and there’s no need for you to go down the same road as me. It’s hard, ruthless, and extremely dangerous. Look at the boys and me. We had a target on our back for years.’ He paused for a moment and sighed. ‘No doubt there’ll be another firm wanting to muscle in. It’s always gonna be dog eat dog in our world, and I don’t want that for you.’

With a stern face, Ricky replied, ‘I understand that, Dad. Really, I do. But what if it’s what I want? I’m eighteen now. Don’t I get a say in this?’

‘Sorry, Son, if I sounded a bit controlling, but, surely, you can see I’m looking out for ya, can’t ya?’

Ricky’s face relaxed. ‘I know, Dad. Sorry. The thing is, I’m a crook, not by my choice, but by my own muvver’s selfishness, so I don’t know much else. I don’t want to be a thief robbing innocent people’s houses, though. I hated it, every bloody single second of it, but I hate the authorities too. I mean, where were they when I was growing up? ’Cos they sure as hell never looked out for me.’

Mike felt his son’s pain again and this time he gave him a hug. ‘All right, let me think about it. I’m sure we can find you something to do that won’t put your liberty at risk and also make ya a bit of money. You’ve probably got a sharp eye and could show us oldies a thing or two.’

‘All I did with Tatum’s lot was watch and listen. I didn’t spend any time talking. The funny thing is when you can’t speak, people assume that you’re deaf as well.’

‘Well, let’s get out of this dump first and get back to normality and then make a decision. In the meantime, ya deserve a nice car, so start thinking about which one ya fancy. No ifs or buts.’

Ricky’s face glowed, and he chuckled. ‘Righto, chief.’

With a towel over his shoulder, Mike winked and was gone, leaving Ricky to get ready and daydream about driving a car.

After a few moments, Ricky was pulled from his fantasy by the dark, daunting face of Dez, peering into the cell. He immediately jumped to his feet. A week ago, he would have been shaking all over, terrified of the man, but not today. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ he brazenly hollered.

Dez looked sheepish. It was an expression that probably most of the inmates hadn’t been privy to. ‘Look, no beef, bro, yeah?’

‘Fuck off. No beef? Bro? I ain’t ya bro. You’re only here because ya know me ol’ man wants to fuck you up.’

The cold, cocky words leaving Ricky’s mouth left Dez totally shocked. It was more than a stark contrast to the timid boy who’d only arrived a few weeks ago. Dez’s eyes were on stalks, and for a moment, he was rattled. ‘All right, Ricky, I was just being straight up and apologizing for upsetting you, that’s all.’

Ricky stepped forward with a new-found stance, square shoulders, and with his head up. ‘Upsetting me? You held a knife to me throat. You wanted to use me as a woman. You’re fucking disgusting. Now go and shove your apologies up your arse, or me ol’ man will do it for ya.’

Dez daringly looked Ricky up and down. ‘So that’s it, is it? A threat using ya ol’ man’s name? A real man wouldn’t threaten me with someone else.’

Just as Dez was about to turn and walk away, Ricky spat, ‘No, a real man would rip you a new arsehole, but I would rip your head off!’

With an anger emerging, Dez gripped the doorframe and glowered at Ricky. As much as he was afraid of Mike, he wasn’t going to let a kid talk to him like that, not after seeing the boy as a pathetic mute, cowering in shame. The idea that overnight this kid had grown a pair of balls, and was now acting so arrogantly, didn’t sit well with him. ‘You fucking wait, ya little shit. I’ll have ya, mark my words, I will!’

‘Come on, then!’ screamed Ricky, who had gone from mellow to mental in less than a second. By inflating his chest and protruding his jaw, his face changed, demonstrating an intense fury that penetrated through his eyes.

It made Dez jump.

‘Don’t make fucking threats, you bastard. Come on!’ Ricky now hopped from foot to foot, holding up his fists.

Only used to a blade, Dez was taken aback. He’d heard how Ricky had poleaxed Tatum and Tyrone and wondered if he’d seriously underestimated the kid.

Unexpectedly, as Dez stood in the doorway, a colossal fist cracked him on the side of the head and knocked him clean off his feet. There was no wobble or unsteadiness, Dez lay on the deck, out cold.

Mike shook his head. ‘I forgot me toothbrush. Lucky I did, eh?’ He then looked at his son’s expression. ‘What happened, Ricky? For fuck’s sake, you weren’t gonna fight him, were ya?’

Ricky was still standing in a fighting stance, his face tight and angry.

‘Ricky?’

‘Yeah, Dad. I was gonna have it out with him. I ain’t scared anymore, like I said.’

CHAPTER FOUR

Ex-Detective Superintendent Magnus Stoneham sat back on the modern, low-backed armchair with his fingers rhythmically tapping the end of the armrests. For a man in his early seventies, his demeanour mirrored that of Conrad, his youngest son, who sat opposite. Although Magnus was now grey, and he had thinner features and tighter lips than Conrad, the men were easily identifiable in many other ways as father and son.

‘So, how did the meeting go? I suspect if Mike Regan is anything like his father, then it began like pulling teeth.’

Leaning against a window in the oak-panelled study of the eighteenth-century country manor, Conrad smirked. ‘Yes, that’s exactly how it was. However, Father, you were right. He does have a sense of morals.’ He tutted. ‘It’s madness when you actually think about it. Mike Regan, a bank robber, an arms dealer, and someone serving time for torturing and murdering another man. Regan’s a piece of scum, isn’t he?’

Magnus laughed. ‘Yes, well, no doubt you are right. This idea of using a sense of morals among the immoral—’

‘Hold on,’ interrupted Conrad. ‘I wouldn’t say Regan is immoral. Lawbreaking, yes, but immoral, I’m not so convinced about that.’

‘No, quite, but the point is, we need to ensure this idea of yours and your sister’s doesn’t have serious repercussions.’

Pushing himself away from the window, Conrad walked over to his father’s drinks cabinet and poured two glasses of Redbreast Irish Whiskey.

Magnus tutted once more. ‘Not too much. That’s saved for special occasions.’

Yes, when you invite the Gentlemen’s Club over, thought Conrad. ‘How are the bridge nights going?’

Magnus raised his brow, knowingly. ‘Yes, fine. Anyway, what plans do you have in place for this clean-up operation, and, more to the point, have you had a chance to speak to your sister?’

Conrad handed his father the glass and sat opposite, settling himself in the luxurious Chesterfield leather armchair. ‘Well, that’s the issue. I have asked Regan if he would consider the idea, but, in all honesty, I feel like I will end up in a situation where I will probably have egg on my face. I can’t instil any rules in the man and his firm when their moral compass is so different from the average man in the street. Take retribution, for example. They believe in an eye for an eye. Well, that might be any person’s natural reaction, but would we resolve our problems in that way? No, of course not. We would expect our law enforcement and justice agencies to deal with those.’

Magnus slowly nodded and pursed his lips. ‘I see, um . . . Yes, well, the fact is, if Regan felt he was being controlled, then the actual project would fail. He has access to every known crook in South-East London and Kent. The man is very well respected within his fraternity. He will have these gangs pulled out from their hiding holes and either they will be brutalized, or, if he is amenable, he will hand over the garbage to the law. However, with regard to the latter, I very much doubt that will happen. And about your sister. You haven’t told me if you have spoken with her. Have you?’

After taking a generous gulp of his whiskey, Conrad shook his head. ‘No, I feel sick to my stomach. That poor girl, Brooke, having gone through such a despicable assault, I just don’t know what to say to her. Me, Rebecca’s brother – the bloody commissioner – can’t even keep the streets clean.’

‘You are not God, Conrad. Besides, Brooke has a soft spot for you. Don’t delay the visit. Also, you need to discuss everything with Rebecca, to keep her in the loop. She cannot afford to lose the next election, and I won’t have her looking weak. We have got her this far. With a little more support, she will be on the front bench before we know it. She could be a good contender for the next prime minister.’