away. ‘Remember when Crazy Joe’s Ford Mustang got burned out?’ Junior asked. ‘That was James and his stepsister.’
This was like flipping a switch. Sasha’s face lit up and he even got off the bench. ‘Hey kid, where you going?’
James turned around and was surprised to see Sasha coming forward and reaching out to shake his hand. ‘You’re the dude that burned out Crazy Joe’s Mustang? That was the funniest goddamned thing that ever happened. I laughed so hard I almost pissed my pants. We all did, didn’t we?’
Sasha turned to look back at the hard men sitting on or standing around his bench. They all started nodding and laughing, and before James knew it, the most notorious members of Sasha’s crew were lining up to shake his hand.
‘Keith Moore took a bit of a shine to you, didn’t he?’ Sasha asked.
‘James was with me in Miami when Dad got busted,’ Junior said. ‘We might have got killed if James hadn’t broken out and called the cops.’
‘Sorry kid,’ Sasha said. ‘I didn’t realise you knew Keith. I just thought you were some dickhead Junior met at the parole office this morning.’
As the big men laughed and squeezed James’ hand, he remembered Kyle’s comment that he wouldn’t wish him luck because he was so jammy that he wouldn’t need it.
‘So are you football men?’ Sasha asked.
James shrugged. ‘I can kick a ball, but I’m pretty crap. My cousin here’s not bad.’
Sasha turned to Bruce. ‘What age are you?’
‘Fourteen,’ Bruce said.
‘What position?’
‘Midfield, or on the wing, but I’ll play anywhere except in goal.’
Sasha looked at his watch before pointing across the pitches. ‘The under-fifteens are over there. There’s about forty minutes of the session left if you want to take a shot. It’s slippery, so you’d better grab some spare boots from the clubhouse.’
Bruce preferred kicking people to kicking balls, but he reckoned getting into one of Sasha’s teams would be a big boost for the mission. ‘I don’t mind giving it a go,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ve got nothing else going on.’
‘What about you, James?’ Sasha asked as Bruce headed into the clubhouse to find some boots. ‘You look like a strong lad.’
‘I’ve seen him play and I wouldn’t get too excited,’ Junior said. ‘Besides, these are the proper teams, James. You should play in the Sunday league side with me, it’s total carnage and way more of a laugh.’
‘Sunday sounds good,’ James nodded. ‘I could handle that.’
Sasha looked disappointed. ‘It’s not serious football, but if your heart’s not in it …’
A few minutes later Bruce was over on the far side, trying out with the under-fifteens, Sasha was back on the bench yelling at the Mad Dogs’ first team, whilst James and Junior had moved twenty metres along the touchline to chat with a couple of Sasha’s associates. One was a twenty-eight-year-old named Savvas, the other a nineteen-year-old who was called David but everyone knew him as Wheels.
James had read their police files while he was preparing for the mission. Savvas came from a poor Turkish background. He’d trained as an accountant, but his career nosedived when he got a four-year stretch for heroin smuggling.
Wheels had been a teenage go-kart champion, but his parents weren’t rich enough to pay his way into single-seat racing, so he’d turned his talents into a career driving getaway vehicles. Despite a reputation as a drug user, gambler and complete head case, the only thing the cops had ever pinned on Wheels was a speeding ticket and a £75 fine for peeing in the street.
‘Can one of you boys put an earner my way?’ Junior asked. ‘I’m flat broke.’
Wheels and Savvas both sucked air through their teeth. Savvas pointed at Sasha. ‘I’ve got plenty of ways for you to make money, but not unless the big man gives the OK.’
‘Same here,’ Wheels said.
‘Come on,’ Junior begged. ‘Just give me a couple of grams of coke to sell or a bag of weed. There’s tons of little rich kids at my school who I can sell it to and they’re dickheads, so I can charge way over the odds.’
‘Speak to the man,’ Savvas said firmly. ‘He’s let you do stuff before.’
‘I know,’ Junior nodded. ‘But only little stuff and if I ask Sasha now he’s gonna rip my head off.’
‘What about me?’ James asked. ‘You got something for me?’
Savvas shook his head. ‘I don’t know you from Adam.’
‘Yes you do,’ Junior said. ‘He’s the guy who did Crazy Joe’s car.’
‘Yeah, two years ago,’ Savvas sneered. ‘No offence, James,